Harry Potter, Naruto 1. The Girl with Red Hair

**EDITED**: April 2014. Mostly grammatical.

**The Girl with Red Hair:** "Well you made it," she said happily. "So you're stuck here now. I'm not sending you back out there in the middle of a war! You'll just have to stay here with me from now on. Do you think you'll be alright with that?" All Harry could do was stare at her. She accepted him. HPxNaruto cross

**Author's Note: **Harry Potter and Naruto crossover. Written with the assumption that readers are at least generally familiar with both. There is a particular vernacular that comes along with both of these, and while I attempt to include them in a manner that is self explanatory, I do expect ya'll to be familiar with the vocabulary.

**All Usual Disclaimers: **...apply. Original characters and concepts may or may not be claimed, but are mine regardless.

**Warnings & Ratings:** Rated T for teen, due to violence, language and handling of much weaponry.

o- **The Girl with Red Hair** -o

By: Renatus

Harry was five when he discovered the picture and his life changed.

His Aunt Petunia had gotten into a rare mood to clean, and not the dust the family portraits along the mantle in the parlor, but the deep sort of clean that had Harry carting old boxes out of the hallway closet so she could sift through them for anything valuable and then out to the curb with them.

Once the last of the little cardboard boxes was dumped across the kitchen table, Harry crawled under it, hoping to be forgotten for a while so he could rest after trucking up and down the stairs all morning. It worked until his Aunt pushed a few too many of the old pictures and cards from the box onto the floor. Harry had caught sight of a particularly colorful little envelope, and upon inspection found only a picture inside of it. It was of a toddling girl, bright hair streaming around her, red as the bridge she stood on. Buildings of a shape he'd never seen before rose around her into a happy little city, with a sparkling horizon of water that stretched up to the blue sky.

On the back was written only, 'our little flower.'

He thought it was his mother at first. He had heard once his Aunt say his mother had red hair.

Petunia took one look at it over her nephew's shoulder and gave a disdainful sniff. Harry jumped and hunched at the sound, wary of a slap to the back of his head or the woman snatching the precious little photo out of his hand.

She did neither.

"Our cousin's kid," she commented, thoughtful and clearly having forgotten her unwanted nephew. "Kisha, or Kusha or some such odd name as that. Such an odd bunch. Strange, like your parents' no good friends."

Then the woman eyed her nephew with the same disdainful look she had given the photo. Harry shrunk further into himself. The last time he had seen that look his Aunt had decided to teach Harry how to fry bacon so as to earn his keep.

Petunia snatched the envelope out of his little hand, ignoring the gasp the boy made as its edge sliced through the flesh of his fingers. She turned the cheery yellow envelope over in her hands and her eyes lit up at the writings scrawled down its face.

"We'll see about that extended family," she said to him. "You'll be much happier over there in China, or whatever land they're in, Asians, the lot of them."

Harry remained silent. She didn't expect him to answer or respond. Every time his Aunt wanted him to make a sound at all she would tell him so. Until then he was to keep his mouth shut, and so he did.

She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips curling into a plotting smirk. "On the other side of the world, they are, boy."

Then she walked away.

Harry watched her balefully from under the table, sucking on his fingers and clutching the photo of the little red-headed girl to his chest. Family.

o-

It was many months later that the topic of the cousin from China came up again.

"Get the mail, boy," his Uncle commanded.

And like he had done for two years, Harry retrieved the mail from the little pile it made by the door. He didn't bother to sift through it, though he eyed the many narrow white envelopes and the periodical featuring kitchen wares and a happy dumpy woman in a ruffly apron on its cover. Amidst the stack was a cheery yellow envelope.

His Aunt snatched the pile from him before he got more than a glance at it. She tossed the bills into a bin on the counter, the magazine onto her empty plate at the table and then stared at the yellow envelope with a surprised look. She sunk into her chair slowly, still staring at the cheery color.

"What is it, pet?" Uncle Vernon asked, noticing his wife's sudden mood, but not bothering to stop eating.

"It's –" Petunia shook her head and looked up at Vernon, turning the envelope's face so he could read it from across the table. "It's from Japan."

"Japan! Who's in Japan?"

"My mother's half sister," Petunia said.

Uncle Vernon squinted at the woman, making his face look rather like a shriveled prune. He had actually stopped eating in order to give his attention to his wife and the envelope from the other side of the world. Harry held his silence, barely daring to breathe, hoping that they'd continue to forget he was still there and standing by the table and hearing everything they said and not keeping up with refilling their teacups.

"I thought you sent it off to China?" Vernon finally asked.

"No, I was mistaken," said Petunia, eyeing the envelope's writing. "It's some place over there by Japan, not China."

Vernon grunted. "So what's it say? Will they take the freak off us?"

Dudley, sitting between his parents, with his plate under his chin caught onto the conversation then. "Is the freak boy going away?"

Dudley, when his parents did not respond, turned a pinched, pucky look to his cousin. Harry thought it made him look more like a pig than it usually did. Harry responded with a flat look of his own, unimpressed with his portly cousin's attempt to intimidate him.

Petunia pursed her lips, looking down at her nephew with a sour expression. Harry hunched his shoulders and shuffled back a step, eyeing his Aunt from downcast eyes and his overgrown fringe of hair.

"If they don't, maybe we could just stuff the boy in a box and ship it off to them anyways," his Uncle said. Then he returned his attention to his breakfast, only giving his wife periodic glances as the woman tore the envelope apart. Neither gave Harry much attention at all, as if talking about shipping him by freight to China or Japan wasn't about to change his life utterly.

Harry rather hoped that they would. How long would it take to be shipped to China?

He watched his Aunt pull out a rather long letter, it's writing about as sketchy and crooked as Harry's attempts had been in school last year. Petunia's face puckered increasingly as she read through it and by the time she had flipped the paper over and reached its end she was frowning deeply and oh, she did not look pleased at all. Harry shuffled back further, making sure that he was out of reach of her long spindly arms in case she decided to whip one of them at him.

"Well?" Vernon asked around the slice of ham he had just stuffed into his cheeks.

Petunia fisted her fingers into the yellow paper and dropped them to the table hard enough to rattle her teacup.

"They won't take him," she said stiffly.

Vernon's eyes narrowed again. "Well why not?"

Petunia waved the crumpled letter angrily. "Says there's a war going on and it's not safe for him to come or them to leave to get him!"

Did that mean they wanted him or not?

"Rubbish! If there was a war we'd have heard it on the telly." Vernon scowled, his face changing colors in a display that Harry was well familiar with and highly wary of. For the third time since he had delivered the mail to his Aunt Harry shifted backwards away from the table.

"I wanna watch the telly!" Dudley exclaimed, spewing a bit of his eggs across the table.

"After breakfast, Dudley," Petunia said absently, eyeing the letter with a dark scowl.

"I still say we box him up," his Uncle said, waving his fork at Harry. "Send him off before school starts up again so I don't have to pay money for the freak." Vernon eyed the boy down the length of the utensil, then eyed the chunk of ham on its end. Vernon stuffed the meat into his mouth, chewing loudly and squinting at Harry with a slightly disgusted look.

"Mum!"

"Perhaps," said his Aunt, drawing Harry's scattered attention. She had the look on her face that was the same as when she was peering through the blinds at the neighbors and trying to figure out what they were up to.

She smiled grimly at him, smirking. "Perhaps so," she said.

Harry hadn't seen her quite so happy since she got her new frying pan last spring.

"Telly, mum!"

"Then go, Dudley," Petunia said, still eyeing Harry like he was some particularly difficult puzzle.

Harry, hunched, stuffed his hands into his pockets, his fingers curling around the little picture of the red-headed girl hidden there. He wasn't sure what his Aunt's look meant for him. He wasn't sure to be wary or happy about it. Maybe they'd send him to his distant relatives in China – Japan?

Would they want him? Or would they just send him back to the Dursleys?

o-

The Dursleys had Harry on a plane out of Heathrow by the end of the summer, just a few days after his birthday and Harry wasn't sure whether he wanted to consider it a present or not.

All three of them had driven Harry down to London for the momentous occasion. And as Petunia handed her nephew off to a stewardess chaperone, she stuffed the yellow envelope into his pocket.

"You'll need that when you get there," she said, her smile too sharp to be pleasant. "It's their address."

Harry let the blonde stewardess grab his hand and small duffle bag, even as he stared between his Aunt and the crowds of people in the airport.

"Come along, honey," his blonde babysitter said. The curvy blonde tugged on his hand and with one last look at the Dursley family Harry turned and followed her. The Dursley's waved with happy smiles on their faces. Harry hoped that he wouldn't have to see them again.

"Honestly, sending a five-year-old onto a plane by himself," the stewardess grumbled, dragging him through the airport at a speed that had Harry jogging to keep up.

"Six," he told her.

His voice made her stop so suddenly that Harry took three steps further and got tugged back by his arm. He eyed the grip she had on his hand sourly. She didn't seem inclined to let him go any time soon.

"What did you say, hun?"

Harry looked up into her brown eyes, noticing that her hair was darker when closer to her head. The rest of her blonde locks was twisted up into a messy bun with flyaway strands of hair around her ears.

"I'm six," said Harry. "My birthday was last week."

She eyed him with some skepticism, her eyes tracking his short skinny height as if deciding whether or not he was tall enough to be six.

"Very well, sweetheart," she said. "Let's go. We don't want you to be late for your flight." She began walking again, dragging him along like a dog on a leash. Harry just concentrated on keeping his feet under his body and his arm attached to his shoulder. He barely heard anything the woman was saying as she ranted with a vaguely polite scowl. "Your relatives barely got you here on time. Honestly! Over thirty minutes late to drop you off. They're lucky they didn't miss the flight entirely. Who sends a kid on a plane alone anyways?"

Harry thought that she should know that the Dursley's did exactly that.

o-

The flight was long and Harry slept through most of it.

When not sleeping he was munching through a seemingly endless supply of little bags of peanuts and drawing random designs across the pages of the in-flight catalogue with the pen his babysitter, Miss Darcy, gave him. For her part, the blonde seemed to have spent the entirety of the flight chatting up the man in the suit across the aisle. Harry knew the look on her face. Petunia got it every time the milkman came by.

By the time they reached the other side of the world Harry's bum was numb, he had run out of pages in the catalogue and Darcy was grumbling in a darker tone than when they had left.

And like she had in Heathrow, the blonde dragged him through the strange airport by his hand, Harry jogging to keep up with her brisk pace in the crowds.

"Where are they?" she mumbled, scanning the people around them. The stewardess attached to his hand shuffled through the crowd, dragging him along. Harry let her and turned most of his attention to the crowd. Some of them held signs, most of them held signs that had pretty scribbles scrawled across them. The people looked different, like the little boy in his class, Pang, Ping, Harry couldn't remember his name. But he remembered his face, he had been nice to Harry until Dudley had broken his nose and told Pong that Harry was a freak and not to go near him. Peong had steered very clear of Harry after that day, as had every other kid on the playground.

It was two hours later that Harry realized that something was wrong. Or rather, Harry knew what was going on, and the stewardess began to figure out that something was wrong.

Darcy had gone from grumbling to dark cursing and most of the people had thinned to the point that only a few remained behind with Harry and his babysitter. He had been perched on a bench with his duffle beside him while she stood next to him tapping her shoes onto the floor with steady clacks.

"Well?" she asked. Harry jumped at the sudden address, and peered up at the woman. She was frowning down at him, her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pursed in the way that meant trouble for Harry. He hunched his shoulders, trying to make himself look smaller. Maybe she would forget about him, since she seemed a bit too keen on glaring at him right now.

"Where is your family?" she asked him. Harry didn't answer, he wouldn't have had time to anyways. "They were supposed to be here when the plane landed. That was hours ago! This is ridiculous! Rude! I've things to do besides babysit a boy for them all day." She poked her fingernail into his shoulder. "Well?"

Harry shrugged and shook his head in the negative.

She puffed up her cheeks and let out a huff of air, turning her glare to the general environment around them. Harry let out a quiet breath.

She had gone back and forth from Harry to the phone booth beside the bench, her eyes on him the entire time like a hawk. Harry heard the dial-tone and subsequent ringing blare out from the phone as the woman scowled at it and held it a foot away from her ear.

"Hello?" his Uncle Vernon's voice came through the phone, loud.

"Mr. Dursley, this is Darcy Clapp calling from British Airways in Tokyo," the blonde said into the phone, "I'm here with your nephew Harry –"

"Haven't got a nephew!" Vernon yelled through the phone. Harry hunched his shoulders even further.

The stewardess looked scandalized. "Mr. Dursley, I'm –"

"Don't know any Potter neither," Vernon continued, his voice a bit high pitched and very loud through the receiver. "Don't call back here, saleswoman! I don't want what you're selling! We're going on vacation! To Majorca! For weeks! Good bye!"

"Why, I never!"

The sound of a phone being fumbled, distant curses, and then a slam echoed out of the receiver. The dial-tone rang through the following silence like a screeching alarm. Harry stared at the phone in minor horror. He didn't even hear his babysitter's string of complaints and insults directed at his family in England.

Harry knew that they hadn't liked him. They had never pretended to, and had told him so at least every other day since he could remember.

But his Uncle had just disowned him entirely.

"Do you have the number of your family here in Japan, hun?" she asked. Harry started and looked at the blonde. She had kneeled next to the bench, putting her on his level. Harry studied her. She still wasn't happy, that much was obvious. She looked down right annoyed actually. But she didn't seem about to backhand him or wave a frying pan about anymore, so Harry figured it was safe to communicate.

"No, ma'am," he said, which caused her to frown. "But I have their address."

"Let's have it then."

Harry dug the yellow envelope out of his pocket, where it had spent the entire flight, and handed it to her. She took it and studied it for a moment, sighed, and grabbed his duffle off the bench.

"Come on, let's find an officer who can contact them for us."

Harry allowed her to grab his hand and lead him off again.

The stewardess flagged down a man in a uniform and proceeded to spout out a language that had Harry openly staring at her. The officer too stared, though he seemed as if he were trying to figure out what she was saying. Their conversation was a bit stumbling, and punctuated with a plethora of gestures, many of them directed at Harry, who had taken to hunching half behind the blonde woman through the duration. The man in the uniform kept looking at him with a squinty-eyed expression that reminded Harry of Petunia when she was angry.

Then the woman handed the yellow envelope to the man.

The officer stared at the envelope, stared at the stewardess and then stared at Harry. His eyes were wider than Harry had yet seen them.

"You go here?" he asked, pointing at Harry then to the envelope.

Harry nodded. He supposed that was the idea. To go to where his distant relatives were. He wouldn't be going back to the Dursleys, that much was obvious. Even if they put him back on a plane to England, the Dursleys would be gone off to Majorca and no one would be there in Heathrow to pick him up.

"This," the officer said, pointing to the scribbled letters on the envelope, "this… hard."

"What do you mean hard?" Darcy sputtered, indignant. "What's hard about it? Just look up their number and call them. They can't just abandon this boy here!"

Harry rather thought that they could, actually. The Dursleys had, after all.

The officer made a cutting motion with his hand, slicing it back and forth through the air from his wrist. He seemed tried for patience.

"Hard," he said with finality.

Harry let out a breath and hung his head between his hunched shoulders. Now what?

He felt a firm hand on his shoulder and he jumped at the unexpected contact. The officer didn't remove his hand, even as Harry leaned back from the man's sudden proximity. He just smiled a bit at the boy, which soothed Harry's nerves more than it ought to have.

"Hard," the officer said again, holding the envelope out. "Yes – possible." The officer offered the cheery yellow envelope with a little nudge. Harry took it slowly, fingering the parchment paper with ginger fingers. The officer nodded and Harry gave the man a small smile in return.

"Burumaru-san," the officer said, pointing to himself.

Harry repeated the name, then pointed to his own chest. "Harry."

The officer nodded, pointed at Harry's chest and said, "Hari-kun."

Harry frowned at the change. The man had rolled the r's in his name oddly, hard, as if they were almost l's, and the added 'kun' did nothing but confuse him.

The officer returned his attention to the stewardess, and during the ensuing conversation, Harry studied the envelope. He stared at the lettering across its face, forming the words slowly in his mind. Petunia Dursley, Number Four Privet Drive – Harry stopped and began again at the other set of letters. Kushina Uzumaki, Kono – Konohagakure, Hi no Kuni. It all meant very little to him, all except the name: Kushina.

Didn't his Aunt say that her cousin's kid was named something like that?

Harry stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled the picture out. It was dog-eared and crinkled from living in his pocket for so long, but the bright colors of the photo were still there, and the little toddling girl stared back at him with a bright, wide smile.

Kushina, 'our little flower.'

Someone tapped him on the shoulder and Harry looked up from the picture to the officer.

"You, come," he said. And with that the stewardess handed over Harry's duffle and leash and the uniformed man pulled Harry out of the airport by his arm.

o-

The following few hours were something of a confused blur for Harry.

The man's understanding of English was slim, and Harry's understanding of what he came to know as Japanese was nonexistent. Communication between the two males, thus consisted of a great deal of hand gestures and charades, which was effective enough for Harry to inform him when he had to pee, was hungry or wondered what in the world something was.

The man had taken him to some sort of official looking office where Harry was invited to remain in a chair for most of the afternoon munching on salty, fishy snacks and water from the fountain nearby. By the time the sky was turning colors out the wide windows the officer led him back out of the office with a sheaf of papers under his arm.

"Three weeks," the man said, holding up three fingers in front of Harry's nose. "Then you go."

Then Burumaru-san took him to his home, where Harry stayed for those three weeks.

The officer had a wife – Maoko – who spoke no English at all, and a teenaged daughter - Fuyu – who was fluent enough that Harry didn't know the difference. The girl was all too happy to teach the little British boy in her home her language, and Harry found himself at the receiving end of a series of cheery little lessons about how to count, and greet someone properly and bowing. The bowing was odd.

By the time Burumaru-san told him to pack his duffle up and that he was leaving, Harry had enough of a grasp of the language that he could at least say hello, thank you, candy please, and 'I don't speak Japanese, do you know English, please sir?' And somewhere along the route Harry learned what Maoko said every time she saw him ("You are too thin, Hari-chan!") and placed food in front of him. Apparently, she thought he was far too thin for his good. At least Harry learned how to use the chopsticks from how often she fed him.

Maoko handed him a lunchbox wrapped in a brightly patterned cloth, and Fuyu hugged him and ruffled his hair, making it stand even more on end than it usually did. She chirped out a tearful goodbye amidst a cheerful rendition about luck and fortune and life and Harry stopped listening.

He was sad to see them go.

Then Burumaru-san took his hand and dragged him out of the house.

Their trip progressed in silence, Harry was more intrigued by the scenery outside the train's windows, while the officer filled numbers into a little book of squares and puzzles. They returned to the office-building, and Burumaru-san gave him the packet of papers.

"This," he said, waving the thick envelope of papers in front of his face, "Yours. Not lose!" Harry nodded, holding the envelope tightly in his hands. "You go with Ito-san," the officer said, pointing to a tall, dark-haired man in slacks and sandals who was standing nearby. Harry eyed the man nervously. Ito-san was broad-shouldered and taller than the officer and had the air of tensed power about him that put Harry a bit on edge.

"Ito-san go with you," the officer was saying, pushing Harry towards the grim-looking guy. "Take you to family, yes. Villages closed because of war. Ito-san take you close and then walk."

Harry wasn't sure he had a choice in the matter. Ito-san didn't grab Harry's hand like the stewardess and the officer had done. Instead he put his large hand on the back of Harry's neck and steered him deeper into the office building that way. Harry glanced behind him once to see Burumaru wave with an encouraging smile.

Harry expected to be shuffled back onto a bus, or an airplane, or even a boat. He did not expect to be led into a window-less cinder-blocked room and locked in with the intimidating Ito-san. The man didn't speak. He just led Harry into the center of the room and with simple gestures that Harry would be stupid to misinterpret, told him to not move. The finger motion across the man's throat made Harry swallow heavily and nod a bit frantically. He planted his little feet where the man told him to and barely dared to breathe.

With his duffle slung across his shoulder, and the packet of papers clutched against his chest, Harry watched the tall Ito with some curiosity and no little amount of trepidation. The man was wandering around the room inspecting the floor with a critical eye. Harry finally took his eyes off the man long enough to inspect the floor himself. The smooth surface had been carved. Intricate designs that Harry now knew to be Japanese characters crawled across the flagstones in a complex circular pattern of circles within circles.

Harry stood alone in its center.

Ito pinned the boy with a stern gaze, motioning that Harry not move. Harry nodded quickly, not wanting to anger the man. The tall man seemed satisfied with his response, then kneeled on the outer edge of the circular pattern in the floor.

Harry felt it. A ripple of force passed through him, making Harry clutch his forearm around his middle at the strange sensation. Wind whipped up out of nowhere, blowing his hair into and out of his eyes. It ruffled Ito's clothes and swirled around the room like a hurricane.

Blue light trickled across the floor, spreading from the kneeling Ito across the carved designs. It lit the room in a brilliant blue glow, highlighting the scripted characters and designs of the pattern.

Harry was fascinated.

Another wave of unseen force slammed through him and Harry fought to remain standing where he was as it threatened to topple him to the floor – or across the room. Then a flash of light so bright that Harry cried out, squeezing his eyes shut and curling in on himself in a crouch, remembering only to keep his feet rooted to his spot and his hands on the envelope against his chest.

The ripple of force was back, making his legs shake as it built up around him, squeezing the air from his lungs and whipping him right off his feet as if someone had picked him up by his ankle and shook him.

Harry fell.

o-

His landing was rough, but cushioned, knocking the wind out of him and leaving him dazed.

He stared blankly up at the ceiling – canopy. Grand, tall trees towered over him, weaving their branches together into an intricate knot work of limbs and leaves. Filtered sunlight streamed through them, casting the shadowed leaves into a bright array of dappled colors and floating pollen. Cicadas called loudly through the trees, competing with the birds in a cacophony song.

Harry lay in his pile of leaves and ferns, breathing and listening to the sounds of a forest so grand he was sure he was dreaming.

Then Ito's stern face blocked out the pretty streamers of light above him.

The man motioned for him to get up, and with a huff and a heave, Harry found his footing. His duffle swung around him from its strap. Ito-san made a few quick motions with his hands and Harry stood staring for a moment as he worked out what the man wanted. Nodding, Harry stuffed his packet of papers into the duffle and secured the bag across his chest and shoulder, settling the pack against his back.

Harry watched as the man pulled out a strip of dark cloth and tied it around his head. Knotted tightly in the midst of his brown hair, the bandana sported a shiny metal plate on its front, right over his forehead. Ito then picked him up and swung him onto his broad back. Harry sucked in a startled gasp, suddenly finding himself attached to the man with his arms around his neck and his legs held in firm hands at Ito's sides.

Ito asked him something in Japanese, turning his head to catch Harry's eyes, "Are you ready, boy?" It was the first time he had spoken to Harry and despite the language, Harry knew what he had said. His three weeks of lessons with Fuyu had taught him much.

Harry responded in kind, "yes, sir."

Ito looked surprised, though barely so. His facial features didn't seem to be inclined to share his emotions much, but Harry's face was close enough to his that he saw the slight widening of the eyes and raised eyebrows.

Ito pointed at the metal plate on his forehead and spoke quietly. Harry did not know all of his words. "This is Konoha's - Those who wear - - are your friends, boy. - - only them. Konoha is at war."

Harry memorized the swirled pattern, nodding his limited understanding, and wondered what symbol marked those on the other side of the war. Ito seemed to realize that his statement was beyond Harry's full understanding for he didn't speak again.

The man raised a hand and laid a finger over his own lips – the universal sign for silence. Harry nodded his ascent.

Ito gripped his thighs and jumped up into the trees.

The rush of wind across his ears nearly whistled and his hair whipped around his head in a wild array. Ito's grip on his legs and Harry's death grip around the man's neck kept him from falling to the ground. And it would not be a fall he'd likely come out of unscathed. Ito was running through the trees anywhere from ten to twenty meters off the ground, leaping between the branches of the trees like some sort of steroid monkey.

Harry just concentrated on leeching himself to the man's back and trying to catch his breath in the rush. He had lost it somewhere in that initial jump.

Once his surprise settled, and he got the hang of breathing through the rushing wind, Harry found himself enjoying the run through the tops of the trees. A lot. He knew he was probably grinning like a maniac, but the sheer energy and speed of Ito's effortless run, the wind whistling across his ears, the leaves of the trees occasionally grabbing at his wild hair and tickling… it was exhilarating.

The morning passed uneventfully. Ito paced himself through the trees at a steady loping gate that left him taking deep breaths when they stopped for lunch, but otherwise seemingly untired. Harry perched himself in a crouched position with his back to one of the towering trees and rested the bento box Maoko had given him on the top of his knees. Their short lunch break was as silent as their run had been. Harry concentrated on his lunch and trying not to clack the chopsticks against the box's rim too loudly. Ito munched through two chewy bars and eyed the dappled shadows of the forest around them.

Harry was observant enough to know that the other man was wary.

The afternoon continued much like the morning. Harry clung to Ito's back, and the man leaped from branch to branch in a dazzling run that despite the hours acting like a baby monkey, Harry was far from bored of.

It was shortly after Ito's whispered, "we are nearly there," that the man's wariness paid off.

Something sharp and shiny shot past Harry's ear, so close he could feel it's passing as it sliced through his hair. Ito dropped off the branch in a sudden move that had Harry gripping the man for dear life. They twisted and spun through the air and suddenly they were back on the branch they had started on. Harry gasped as he realized that the man had somehow spun the two of them around the tree limb like an acrobat in a circus.

But where before their path had been clear save for leaves and sunbeams, now a curious looking person stood facing them. He was relatively small, a teen really, and dressed darkly with dull metal armor plates strapped to his chest, arms and legs. He wore some sort of mask that covered his nose and mouth, and like Ito, had a bandana tied around his head. His symbol was different, however.

It was the blood and the weapon that stood out, though. The blood was everywhere, splattered across his chest plate and it looked to have soaked his entire left sleeve. A triangular-shaped knife spun on the end of his finger, its edge glinting whenever it caught what little sunlight filtered down through the leaves. Harry sucked in a breath as a stinging pain filtered into his senses. He touched his ear gingerly, finding the pain and pulling his fingers away. His blood stained his fingers and he stared at it. He hadn't even felt it get cut.

"Iwa," said Ito softly, though his voice carried deeply through the trees. "You are - to Konoha, little Iwa-nin. Did you get lost - -?"

Harry stared incredulously at the man he clung to. His grasp of the words were suspect, but there as no mistaking the man's tone. He was taunting the boy?

"Let me pass," the bloodied boy demanded.

"Escaping?" asked Ito.

The Iwa-nin crouched low over one heel, the other thrown out before him on the branch. His knife was no longer twirling, but held tight in one fist as his second hand palmed the hilt. No matter the mask, Harry could tell that this boy was serious. It wasn't quite the look that Dudley got when he led a game of Harry Hunting. Nor was it the look of his Uncle Vernon when Harry got in the way one too many times. It was the look that Harry got when faced with either Dudley or Vernon – the one where Harry learned what desperation and panic was, and the urge to fight his way out so he could run.

Ito swung Harry off his back effortlessly, and Harry teetered for a moment before he found his own balance. The branch of the tree he was on was wide, but high, and Harry kneeled down in order to grip the rough bark with his hands, feeling a little like a precariously perched chicken in a tree. They were very high, and the ground seemed very far away.

The bloodied boy moved faster than Harry could see. One moment he was ten meters away, and the next Ito was ducking under a curled punch and back-swing with a sharp blade. Harry stared up at the two in rising awe. Their fight was wild and quick, consisting of hands, feet and deflected sharp objects that whistled off into the trees. And still the two remained perfectly balanced atop the tree limb.

One of the boy's endless supply of sharp pointy objects whizzed over Harry's head, and he ducked even as it passed through his hair. He turned and frowned at the thing, now embedded into the trunk of the tree. He ran a hand over the top of his head and inspected his fingers, but didn't find blood.

With a glance at the dueling pair barely a meter away from him, Harry gripped the handle of the knife and yanked hard. It slid out of the trunk with some difficultly, and the force Harry used to pull it out nearly toppled him out of the tree.

The sudden jarring of the branch he was perched on did topple him.

He caught only the flare of light out of the corner of his eye before the world fell out from under him. He fell. Most of the tree limb fell after him in a rain of splinters and leaves. Something caught him just before the ground did, and the rough handling put a crick in his neck even though he was thankful. Strong arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind and he felt a solid body at his back.

The feeling of something cool and sharp touching his throat made him freeze.

"Don't move," came the muffled sound of the boy's voice. It hissed out through his mask and across Harry's head with the sound of threat and promise. Harry wasn't about to move, but his eyes roamed his range of vision a bit frantically. The tree limb had broken across the ground and leaves were still falling through the trees. The forest seemed oddly quiet after the crash of the tree. He found Ito picking himself up from the other side of the felled branch. The man didn't get far.

Harry couldn't see very well with the leafy log in the way, but he could see enough. Ito's motions were twisted and strained. He couldn't lift himself much more than his torso up off the ground. Harry suspected the man's leg was caught under the fallen tree limb.

For the first time since that morning Harry spoke, "Ito-san."

The teen behind him tightened his grip on his shoulders and the knife shifted. Harry didn't feel pain, but he did feel the warm trail of liquid that dribbled down into the hollow of his collarbone. He sucked in a breath as he pushed his body back into the solid wall the teen made behind him, trying to put distance that wasn't there between his neck and the blade.

"Leave the boy, Iwa-nin," said Ito, his voice strained.

"Can you even stand?" asked the teen. "What are you going to do?"

"He's a boy," said Ito, staring over the edge of the log with a dark look. "A - child. He's - ."

Harry wondered, briefly, what Ito said about him.

The Iwa-nin behind Harry hummed deep enough that he could feel the vibrations at his back. Harry got the feeling that the teen didn't believe Ito. The grip around his shoulders tightened roughly, even as the blade at his throat left. Harry saw only the glint of metal as the knife flew through the air. Ito disappeared behind the log with a pained sound.

Harry grit his teeth, not knowing, but assuming that the blade had hit the man. The man whose back Harry had spent the majority of the day wrapped around. The man who was taking him to a family who might not abandon him like the Dursley's were so quick to. He clenched his fists and felt the woven fabric of the handle of the knife in his right hand.

He hadn't lost it in the fall from the tree.

Harry swung hard and wild, aiming up and behind. He held the knife like he had seen the boy hold it; gripped tight in his right hand, powered by his left and the force of his entire, tiny body. He twisted in the other's embrace, feeling the dirt and leaves under his feet shift. He didn't feel the blade cut, but he did feel it when the edge of his right fist slammed into the thick fabric and solid muscle of the other's bicep.

The teen yelled and pushed him away and Harry went sprawling to the ground, hard.

He stared at the teen clutching the top of his arm. Harry's eyes tracked down to his own hands, to the blade he still clutched in a white-knuckled grip. It glinted wetly, red, and blood coated his own hand and the hem of his long sleeves. He forced his hand to open and his fingers responded with a sluggish twitch. The blade tumbled out of his grasp to the ground between his knees. Smooth sharp pains in the flesh of his thumb and forefinger made him suck in a breath. It was similar to when he had first cut himself with one of Petunia's kitchen knives, except… smoother in a way his Aunt's dull blades weren't. Harry couldn't tell how much of the blood was the teen's and how much was his.

The Iwa-nin hissed out a string of angry words that Harry's limited vocabulary didn't cover. He shot his gaze up to the teen standing over him. He was still clutching his arm, blood seeping through his fingers in a sluggish, bright pattern. Pain and anger was etched across his masked face and his eyes were glaring harshly down on him. Harry both leaned backwards and raised his arm up in front of his chest. He wished he hadn't dropped the knife, but he didn't know what he'd do with it now anyways.

The teen's movements were faster than Harry could react to, but slower than they had been when he had first attacked Ito in the branches. Harry was scooped up off the ground and slammed into the unforgiving embrace of a tree. He let out a pained, strained sound from his throat that sounded high-pitched to his ears. Just as his bearings evened out enough for him to open his eyes again the Iwa-nin's forearm whip-smashed across his chest.

Any air in his lungs escaped him and he struggled to breathe, unable to. His body spasmed and it felt like his ribs had been constricted into his chest. He couldn't breathe!

There was a shout from somewhere. It was followed by a few quick, scuffling sounds and a thud, but Harry couldn't concentrate enough to find the source of the noise. He curled over himself trying to gasp in a breath, wrapping his arms one over his abdomen and one across his front, hoping to block any further strikes.

A firm hand gripped his shoulder and Harry jerked away, slamming back into the tree behind him in his haste. The bark bit into the flesh of his back, but he didn't care. He still couldn't breathe.

"Easy," soothed a voice.

The hand remained and a second gripped his other shoulder. They forced him backwards firmly, but not painfully, straightening his shoulders. Harry squinted at who had a hold of him, and found the face of an unknown blonde man. Bright blue eyes looked back at him with concern. It was an emotion that Harry had directed at him very few times in his memory.

"Easy," the blonde said again. He pushed Harry's shoulders back into the tree, and pulled his arm away from his abdomen. "Straighten up, relax."

Harry did as he was told, though relaxing wasn't easy when black was edging into his vision and he was panicking at his body's lack of oxygen and the pounding rush in his head.

"Breathe," commanded the blonde.

Something low in his chest finally shifted and Harry sucked in a breath, sudden and quick, filling his lungs with an edge of desperate relief. He let it out in a rush and gasped in air again.

"Good," the man said. Harry looked up at him, still gulping air in a sort of happy delirium at being able to breathe again. The blonde gave him an encouraging smile, and squeezed his hand on Harry's shoulder. It was a foreign, supportive gesture to Harry.

Te blonde spoke but Harry knew only that he was asking a question by his tone. Harry just blinked owlishly and the man repeated his question, his words simpler and spoken slower.

"Are you hurt?" the blonde asked.

Harry's chest ached and his back throbbed and the sharp pains in his hand from the knife burned. Harry raised his right hand and the blonde took it in his own. He turned it over in strong hands, and gently swiped at the blood with his thumbs. Harry couldn't help the hiss through his teeth when one of the man's thumbs found the slices across his fingers. The blonde glanced at him and back to his hand.

The blonde spoke slowly again, and Harry knew most of his words. "This was the first time you used a kunai?"

Harry wasn't sure what a kunai was and told him so.

The blonde blinked at him and Harry wondered if he had screwed up the words.

"You are foreign," said the blonde, obviously surprised. Then one of the triangular blade knives appeared in the blonde's hand. "This is a kunai."

Harry looked at the kunai knife then back to the blonde's blue eyes and answered his previous question. "Yes sir."

The kunai disappeared and the blonde nodded. "Well done."

Harry stared, unused to the words being directed his way. The blonde continued to wipe the blood from his hand, careful of the cuts even as they seeped a bright red. Harry just watched him, struck by the man's firm yet undeniably gentle handling. The blood was wiped away, and cool white bandages were wrapped around his finger, thumb and hand. The cuts continued to pain him, but Harry was no stranger to the sensation.

"What is your name?"

"Harry."

"Haryi-kun," the blonde repeated with a smile, his pronunciation the same as Buromaru-san's had been, with the R's rolled into almost L's. But now Harry knew the kun for what it was, a mark of him being a child, a sort of pet name given to him by anyone older than him. Fuyu had called him, Hari-chan, though.

"My name is Namikaze Minato," the blonde said with a cheery smile, apparently quite happy to meet him.

The blonde squeezed his shoulder again and got to his feet. Harry remained where he was, suddenly realizing that he had sat at some point, but not really caring. He relished in his newfound appreciation for the ability to breathe and watched the blonde's three young friends move about the fallen tree limb. Two boys, one girl, all young teens. Younger, even, than the Iwa teenager. They had managed to free Ito, and the man was grumbling as the girl hovered over his leg. One of the boys stood looking over her shoulder, his spiky black hair made more so by the strap of cloth around his forehead. He was pointing over the girl's shoulder at the man's leg, which didn't look to be sitting at a comfortable angle. As he watched, Ito snarked something up at the boy, who grinned widely back at him, and the girl swatted the arm out of her face.

"Ito-san," said Harry. His voice caught everybody's attention, including the grumbling man leaning against the felled tree limb. Ito stopped his complaining and looked Harry over. He wasn't sure how he looked, but Harry felt pretty awful.

"Alright, boy?" asked Ito.

Harry nodded, and let his body settle into the tree's embrace.

o-

The rest of the journey through the forest was slower than it's beginning. Ito's leg was rather mangled and he had to be supported by the tall blonde. The girl, Rin, trailed along at Ito's side, keeping a careful eye on him and reminding him often to not put any weight on that leg. Harry was finding a rising amusement in Ito's stream of grumbling responses, mostly because the man was scowling and the girl was utterly ignoring it. The Iwa teenager had been bound and thrown over the shoulder of a white-haired boy with a cloth mask. Harry hadn't yet caught his name nor been introduced and the boy said very little. He didn't seem at all burdened by the weight of the other.

Harry, despite having spent the majority of the day clinging to another's back, still found himself rather exhausted after the scuffle and his run in with certain death, he was sure. Instead of walking as he might have otherwise done at their slow pace, he found himself being piggy-backed again. This time, on the black-haired boy's back.

The boy had greeted him loudly and cheerfully, his dark eyes somehow bright through the goggles that wrapped around his face. "Heya! I'm Obito!"

Initially startled at the boy's enthusiastic nature, Harry was quickly growing to like him. Obito chatted constantly through their trek, a stark contrast to the silent journey Harry and Ito had taken. Harry didn't have a cue as to what the older boy talked of, but Obito didn't seem to mind at all. Any sense of wariness had long faded and a strong feeling of security wrapped around the little group. They walked surely and confidently and Harry marveled at it.

"Where are you from, Hari-kun?" asked Obito, turning his head to look at Harry over his shoulder.

"England."

"Where?"

"It's far from here," said the blonde. "Beyond the Elemental Nations."

"Beyond the Elemen – Minato-sensei!"

Minato glanced at Obito and Harry with a small smile. "Hari-kun has traveled a long way."

Obito's stare went from Harry to the blonde and back again. "Woah. What're ya doing here?"

Harry shrugged, not knowing how to answer. How could he say that his Aunt put him on a plane to the other side of the world because she didn't want him in her home? How could he tell them that he was desperately hoping for some distant family to just accept him? He wasn't even sure he had the words to answer them.

Ito answered for him, "the last of his family is in Konoha."

Obito looked at the boy on his back, but Harry just sort of blankly watched the gravel pass by under them. He could feel the other boy's tenseness, his shock and even the sour traces of sympathy and pity. Harry didn't want these things, not from the cheerful boy.

"You're coming to Konoha to live, then?" asked Obito. Harry merely nodded once, hoping he would be allowed to stay, but not knowing where else he could, or would go. He was quite sure that the Dursley's would not accept him back. Maybe Burumaru would let him sleep in Fuyu's closet –

"Great!"

Harry startled at the happy sound and stared at the boy.

"We can be friends, then!" Obito was giving him a wide grin in return, and let go of one of his thighs in order to give him a thumbs-up. Surprised by this boy's easy acceptance of his presence, Harry smiled.

He had never had a friend before.

o-

Konoha wasn't quite like Harry expected. He had expected the red bridges, wide rivers, circular buildings with cone-like roofs and the sea that blended into the sky. He had expected the image from the picture.

Konoha, however, was a bit different. For one, it was much larger than Harry thought it would be, considering Obito had been calling it a village. It's buildings were a hodge-podge of structures, many with brightly colored shingling roofs, buried amidst a forest of towering trees that didn't quite hide either buildings, tall walls or the mountain that the village backed up to.

It was the walls and gates that Harry met first. They towered over the small party in a strong statement of defense, shading the road and casting bright streams of sunlight over their heads from the sinking sun. The group passed through the gate with minimal resistance. The four guards eyed Harry with a mixing of suspicion and interest, but the blonde's quick words had them turning away. Harry slid off Obito's back, soaking in the sight of the village, and perhaps, his new home.

A firm hand on his shoulder turned his attention from the colorful and varied inhabitants to the tall blonde.

"Welcome to Konoha, Hari-kun."

The group left the teenaged attacker in the care of the gate guards and the white-haired youth, and Ito-san at the Hospital where the girl - Rin - hovered with the others dressed in white frocks. Ito gave Harry a small nod and pat on the head as he was taken away down the halls with the girl trailing them and listing off things Harry didn't quite understand. Harry waved and wondered if he would see the other man again.

"Now what, sensei?" Obito asked, his hands up over his head and looking up at the blonde with a grin.

Minato said something that had Obito looking dubiously down at Harry.

But Obito quickly shrugged and wrapped a long arm around Harry's shoulders. Minato gave the two a bright smile and a little wave that morphed into a shooing motion and Harry let the taller boy pull him out of the Hospital and back into the warm sun.

It took a bit of time, but Harry finally figured out between words and gestures that Obito was going to help him find his family. Harry revealed his precious picture with its cheery yellow envelope from his pocket. Obito took one look at the envelope and exclaimed loudly at the picture and before Harry could puzzle out what he had said he was being dragged through the streets by his arm.

Harry scowled at the hold on his wrist, but got distracted by the sights around them, and Obito's incessant talking. Harry's Japanese had improved in leaps and bounds during his stay with Burumaru-san and his family, but the older boy leading him around by the hand talked faster than he walked, and Harry had a hard time catching more than a few words.

He didn't mind. The sheer variety of people and shops and buildings and – was that man walking up the wall? – Harry had never seen such things before, not even on Dudley's telly.

Obito stopped suddenly, sending Harry, whose attention had been just about anywhere but on his guide, crashing into him. Harry frowned at the taller boy's back. Then, he heard the sibilant voice of another. Harry peeked around Obito to its source, a tall, thin, long-armed man with dark hair that hung over his shoulders like limp spaghetti. His eyes were yellow, slit like a snake's, and as soon as Harry's head of wild hair made itself known those eyes were on him.

When he spoke, the man's voice was decidedly serpentine. "Who is this?"

Harry felt Obito shift, but he didn't remove his watchful gaze from the man.

"This is Hari," Obito said slowly, unsure. "He just got here. He's Kushina's cousin."

"Uzumaki Kushina's cousin?" the man asked, bending his body forward and closer to the two boys. "I didn't know any of her - - their wars. How - that she's got family members. How - - her."

Harry didn't know a lot of the words the man spoke but he got the gist of it. More, Harry got the intent and it put him on edge, and he tensed out of reflex and shuffled half a step back away from the man. He spoke strangely, spacing words apart in odd places, and much of it streamed together in long sibilant sounds, or at least Harry thought so. The scrunched look on Obito's face seemed to agree with him.

"We better get going, Orochimaru-sama," Obito finally said, edging Harry away from the lanky man. "We need to find Kushina and all."

"Of course," the said, smiling at them. It was a wide, strained sort of smile; a smile that Harry likened to the smile of promise-of-pain that he got every once in a while from Vernon. Harry didn't like it one bit.

"Come on, Hari-kun," Obito said, nudging him.

Harry didn't say a word, but kept a wary eye on the man even as Obito gripped his wrist and pushed him down the street away from him. Orochimaru watched them go the entire way until they rounded a corner that put them out of sight.

Harry determined that the man was creepier than Mrs. Figg and all her cats.

"Guy creeps my out," Obito said to no one in particular. He had taken to leading Harry by his leash again, pulling on his wrist as he stalked through the street. Harry had to trot to keep up with his longer legs and agitated pace. "He's a Sennin, Hari, so he'-. Really -. And creepy! And he comes and goes like a snake, he does. I don't like him much. I much prefer Jiraiya-sannin-sama better! He's much cooler, and can - toads! I've met him once. He's Minato-sensei's sensei."

Harry had very little idea what the other boy was rambling about, but half-listened anyways, even as he kept glancing behind him. It felt like he was being watched, and not the nice way either. More like the way he felt when Dudley got it in his head to try his new game out: Harry Hunting.

Every time he turned around to look, or glanced over his shoulder he'd only see what they had already passed. Orochimaru was never in sight and that didn't really settle Harry's nerves any at all because he still felt like he was being watched.

"Oy, we're here!"

'Here,' was a charming three story townhome butted up between like neighbors and painted a daffodil yellow. It was narrow and tall, with windows lining each of its stories. The third was taller, with a steeply slanted roof that drained all to one side into a narrow space between the house and its neighbor. A short picket fence wrapped around the front garden with fresh whitewash, and trampled tulips.

"Oh, that's Kakashi's fault," Obito said, pointing at the broken flower stalks Harry was inspecting. "He threw me clear cross the yard and straight into the flowers. Kushina was sooo mad! Sensei made us run laps for hooouuurs."

Harry looked up at the older boy, fascinated. "We still have to replant those, come to think of it," Obito continued, still staring at the trampled flowerbed.

"Come on," the older boy said, suddenly all cheer again. "I'll introduce you! Sensei knows Kushina, she's an amaaazing cook. Best onidori I've ever had, and that's saying something,"

Harry stopped trying to listen as he was led by his leash – arm – through the fenced front yard and up the stoop to the door. It was a tall door painted a dark grey color with a little round window of blue tinted glass.

It opened to reveal a woman, and it only took Harry a moment to recognize her as the girl from his picture, only grown.

She was tall and slender, but neither taller nor skinnier than Aunt Petunia, rather she was a really pretty sort of tall and slender with solid hips and shoulders and an oval face. Her hair cascaded around her in waves of glorious color. It was like a waterfall of red water. Harry had never seen so many shades of red before.

"Heya Kushina!" Obito greeted cheerfully, "This is Hari-kun, he's a relative of yours!"

Harry started and ducked his head, unwilling to watch should she reject him like Petunia had done. Obito didn't understand his sudden shyness.

"Oy, Hari, what's up with you?" But Harry didn't really hear him.

There was movement and the sound of cloth and suddenly her knees were on the ground at his feet and her red hair had curtained around her and brushed against his arm. Slender, calloused fingers touched his chin and lifted his head, but still Harry kept his eyes down.

Her voice, when she spoke, entranced him. "Will you look at me cousin?"

He obeyed, as much because she had asked as because she had claimed him as her cousin, as family. It was more than any of the Dursley's had ever done. The closest Petunia had come was to have said, "your mother," and "my sister" within a span of five minutes of each other. Never together. Never telling Harry he belonged with them, was accepted, was a part of them.

Harry found himself looking into mis-matched eyes. Her eyes were both blue and green, brilliant in color, like jewels that sparkled and were set in an oval face with wide cheekbones and a full mouth. She was smiling at him.

"You've come a long way, Hari-kun," she said, "and along a dangerous road. What were they thinking? I told them not to send you now."

He had the fleeting, real fear that she was about to send him back to England.

Her smile grew. "Well you made it," she said happily. "So you're stuck here now. I'm not sending you back out there in the middle of a war! It's far too dangerous to be wandering about outside of the village, the village is bad enough with all the weirdos running around. You'll just have to stay here with me from now on. Do you think you'll be alright with that, Hari-kun?"

All Harry could do was stare at her, too shocked and surprised and happy to say or do anything for a long moment. She accepted him.

"Yes," he finally said, still unable to do much more than stare.

Kushina's smile, he decided, was more brilliant than her hair.

o-

Harry made the decision to become a Shinobi almost immediately.

o-

**Author's Note:** I couldn't help myself, you see.


	2. The Man with Yellow Eyes

**EDITED:** April 2014. Mostly grammatical.

**Author's Note: **Kushina is related to Petunia and Lily as a sort of half cousin. Lily/Petunia's mother had a half sister, who is Kushina's mother in turn. That would make Kushina and Harry… third cousins I believe, disregarding the half. The specifics of that story is largely forgotten or unknown by the characters themselves, so it'll likely not come up.

o- **The Man with Yellow Eyes** -o

By: Renatus

Harry made the decision to become a Shinobi almost immediately.

He moved into the yellow townhouse with Kushina and learned quickly that it housed more than just his red-haired cousin. Living with her was the blonde from the forest, Minato, who had his own room, though Harry hadn't seen him since. Harry was given one of the two rooms at the very top, in the front of the house. Minato, he was told, had the second room, which sported a narrow bed and a tall, skinny window that overlooked the back garden. There was a large bathroom and a linen closet for the floor to share, and then Harry's room, which was really tall on one end, with the roof slanted as it was. It had one tall, skinny window too, which Kushina opened immediately and the sounds of the narrow little street floated in on the warm breeze.

"Kakashi-kun stays here sometimes," Kushina told him as she bustled around the room. "So you two will have to share when he does. He won't mind. You don't do you?"

Harry shook his head in the negative but Kushina had continued on without seeing it, picking up spare socks, kunai and a couple empty plastic cups of something like soup.

Harry didn't mind sharing the room at all. He didn't know what to do with so much space. His cupboard at the Dursley's had been considerably smaller. Though it had a lumpy mattress. This room only had a couple rolls of thick, feathered pads that his cousin called futons. Harry thought they looked much more comfortable than his old lumpy mattress.

"You didn't bring much," the woman continued with Harry only catching snatches of her words, dumping her armload into a dresser drawer. "But I suppose you'll - - things fast -. I grew so fast a - - - that I was looking for new - every few months. You'll need a pair of - though, those old sneakers won't do at the Academy. Too -. Oh!"

Kushina stopped and whirled and was suddenly kneeling on the floor in front of him. She had moved so fast that Harry, who had been inspecting Dudley's most recent hand-me-downs that he wore, had startled back a step in surprise. She moved slower as she placed her hands on his shoulders and Harry was struck again by the variegated reds of her hair that caught the light from the window behind her in a fiery dislay.

"Hisui," she said. Harry did not know the word and told her so. He didn't understand a lot of the words she used. And she talked too fast for him to puzzle most of it out.

She smiled and spoke slowly. "It is the name of bird from my home. The Jade Kingfisher. They are sea-shore birds, and like the quiet - and small fish that they - up from the waters. They are shy, but beautiful and guard their homes strongly. Your eyes are the same color as their feathers. Do you not like it?"

Harry shook his head yes, then no, and giving up, simply said, "I like it."

How could he not? He hadn't been called such a wonderful name ever. The Dursley's and never even called him 'Harry' all that much, mostly when they weren't talking to him but about him.

"I like it too," Kushina said, smiling happily. "A hari is…how can I explain it? It is a needle, or a hook, like this." And she pulled a thin metallic rod out of her sleeve and showed it to him. Harry inspected it, noted the sharp ends and the slickness of its surface. It wasn't much longer than her hand, and very thin. "I think Hisui is better for a name," Kushina continued, letting Harry take the little needle from her. "But Hari-kun suits you too, really. I guess I'll just call you Hisui! It'll be my special name for you, cousin!"

Harry thought that was a splendid idea. "I've never had a special name," he told her. He didn't really think that some of the names Vernon or Aunt Petunia called him were very special. They certainly weren't as nice as the one Kushina had given him. So he didn't tell her about them.

She looked sad for a moment then smiled at him. "Well now you do," she said.

Harry nodded and made to give the needle back to her. "No, you keep it." She pushed his hand back to his chest. "It's called a senbon. It's yours now. I'll teach you how to use them!"

Harry just stared - awed. No one had ever given him anything before and here she had given him both a pretty name and one of her own belongings.

And with a quick warning about being careful of its sharp ends, she launched right back into talking, oblivious to the momentous moment in Harry's life.

"Hisui, do you know what a Shinobi is?"

Harry didn't so Kushina told him, explaining it all in a way that he could understand and follow with his limited vocabulary. It sounded like something from one of Dudley's movies, and Harry was rather amazed. Kushina led him to one of the windows in the room and sat with him on the low window seat. She pointed out the window to the roofs across the street.

"There, see him?"

Harry squinted and didn't see anybody.

"There, he's stopped, see him now?"

Now Harry did. It was the white-haired youth from the forest, one of Obito's friends. He had been running, or maybe he had just been somewhere else and suddenly was standing on the edge of the roof across the street. Harry had only seen a blur and then he was there, cool and masked and – he disappeared again. Except this time Harry saw him shift, then take a step and run. But he ran faster than Harry had ever seen anyone run before.

"Kakashi-kun," Kushina said, naming him. "He's a Chunin, one of Konoha's Shinobi."

"Are you a Shinobi?" Harry asked her, looking up at her face.

"Yes," the woman said with a smile, putting her arm around her cousin's small shoulders. "Yes, I fight to protect this village and its people. It is my home, and the home of my precious people. And I will fight for it until the day I die."

Kushina smiled, tugging him against her so her hair fell around and enveloped them both. It burned brilliantly in the light coming through the window.

"You are one of those precious people now, Hisui," she said. "I hope you'll like having Konoha as your home."

Harry couldn't care less where home was, so long as she was there. He did like Konoha, though.

o-

The morning Harry was to start at the Academy dawned chill and bright and clear. Harry, in his anxiety turned excitement was up with the sun and in the kitchen earlier than he was normally. The house was quiet; quiet enough for Harry to hear the bird song from the back garden through the closed windows.

He dressed in new clothes and sandals and he paused in the bathroom to look at them more properly. He wore grey shorts that were long enough to cover his knees, "For you to grow into, Hisui," Kushina had said, and a green shirt with long sleeves and a spiral pattern on its front. He had never had new clothes before. They felt small on him, used as he was to Dudley's large hand-me-downs.

He grinned, patted at his wild hair in a barely-there attempt to tame it and scampered silently down the stairs to the kitchen.

He found cold rice balls and fish in neat little metal boxes in the fridge complete with bamboo chopsticks stickered to their lids. So armed he slid to the floor in the corner made by the counters meeting the wall under the stairs and proceeded to eat his breakfast in the silence of the morning.

So when a yawning, bruised and blonde Shinobi wandered into the kitchen, Harry was surprised. He hadn't heard the man come down the stairs that he sat under, and hadn't seen him or his students since the day he had arrived a couple weeks ago. Harry and Kushina had had the house to themselves and had filed their days with language and village tours and delicious foods Harry had never ever seen before.

Minato, at first, didn't seem to see him and Harry sat silent in his corner, watching. Minato blindly moved through the kitchen, opening the fridge, which completely blocked the blonde from Harry's view and closing it again with a matching box of breakfast in hand.

Then the man saw him.

It was probably luck – very good luck – but Harry was only slimly saved from a skewering. The blonde reacted suddenly, blindly, shooting out a kunai from some hidden pocket straight towards the crouched form in the corner of his kitchen.

Both of them moved so fast that it took Harry a moment for his brain to catch up. Harry ended up staring over the lip of the metal box he held before him like a shield, staring at the man who now stood meters closer to him than he had been only seconds ago. The blonde had thrown the weapon and caught it before it even reached the corner. Harry only recalled a quick blur of color and sound as if the blonde had moved across the room in a blink, but the blonde had somehow caught his own kunai midair after he had thrown it. It never even touched its intended target.

Harry's fingers were white from the grip he had on his breakfast box – and he doubted it would have saved him if the blonde hadn't caught the weapon. He stared wide-eyed over the rim into equally startled blue.

Minato let out a string of words that Harry didn't know, but he sounded almost-angry. Harry didn't move. When Vernon sounded like that Harry usually got slapped if he was within reach. If he could have backed up, he would have. The blonde shifted towards him in an agitated step, still letting out angry words, and – Harry couldn't help it – he flinched.

Minato went from surprised-angry to surprised-stricken in a heartbeat and with only some hesitation moved again towards the frozen boy in the corner. The forked kunai disappeared as fast as it had been drawn.

Harry's stillness had returned and the only movement he made was to watch the blonde's very slow progress towards him. Once Minato was within arms-length he crouched and reached towards the steadily held bento-box. His movements were very slow.

Harry still didn't move.

The blonde seemed to take this as a good sign and with a small, sorry smile took the box out of Harry's hands. Left without his makeshift and effective shield, Harry let his hands drop into his lap, and his breakfast. He looked down to find his rice and fish scattered across his lap and onto the floor; mostly though, in his lap.

Minato looked really sorry, which settled Harry's nerves a lot. Vernon never looked sorry, unless he had swung and missed Harry completely. The sorry look would usually go away fast to be replaced by anger again. But with Minato the sorry was still there on his face and Harry felt bad for flinching.

The blonde finally spoke again and this time Harry knew the words.

"I am sorry, kid," he said, touching Harry's shoulder lightly, slowly. When Harry again didn't flinch the hand became more firm on him. "You startled me and I reacted without thinking. I didn't know you were in the house."

Harry knew this already, but nodded anyways.

"Kushina's your family, then?"

Harry nodded again, which made the blonde give him a small smile.

"Sorry about your breakfast, too," Minato said, eyeing his lap and the spilled rice. Then Minato plopped himself down right next to Harry on the floor in the corner. Harry watched him with some confusion but when the blonde offered him a pair of chopsticks and held out his own boxed breakfast Harry cottoned on.

"We can share mine," the blonde said, giving him a bright smile.

Harry returned the smile but instead of digging his chopsticks into the offered box, he scooped up a piece of fish from off his knee and happily shoved it into his mouth.

"It's still good," he said around the fish, causing his companion to laugh at him. Harry grinned.

"You have good reactions, kid," he said. "You'll make a good Shinobi."

Harry just smiled, happy with the compliment and the company, his morning's brush with death already passed and not quite forgotten.

o-

Minato walked him all the way to the Academy, showed him the building's entrance and because they were early let him into the Missions room with him, which was located within the same gated complex, but in a different building. The round room was tall and large and echoed a bit to Harry's ears. It was, however, brightly lit and all the windows had been thrown open to let in the fresh air and it wasn't too busy, though Minato warned that at times it could be very much so.

Harry held his silence, his hands in his pockets where Kushina's senbon rested, a comfortable smooth presence reminding him of her acceptance of him. As he looked around Minato greeted and chatted and moved through the room. The blonde didn't introduce him and Harry didn't mind, distracted as he was by all the different people. Finally they made it to the broad desk sat to one side and the old man seated behind it.

His voice was about as wrinkled as his face, but he greeted them both with a smile that Harry thought was a real one. "Minato, who is your young friend?"

"Hokage-sama," Minato pulled Harry from his position half behind him so that Harry was standing in front. "This is Uzumaki Hari."

And hadn't that been a point of contention. Harry, having spent all his remembered days sleeping in the Dursley's cupboard under the stairs, had only ever been talked about, talked over, yelled at, sneered at or swung at. Rarely, and only by either Dudley or Aunt Petunia, had he been called 'Harry' at all. When Kushina had asked him his full name to fill out his application for the Academy, Harry had replied with the only name he had ever really known to be his. Harry. She had asked about his father, to which Harry simply said that he didn't know. Aunt Petunia had put down Potter as a name for him when he went to school last year, but she had also always called his dad 'that Potter' so Harry had always assumed his father's name was Potter, which was an odd name, and not really his name and that Aunt Petunia had only put it down on his school forms because he didn't have any other anyways and they, like the Academy in Konoha, wanted a second name for him. His teachers at the primary school had always called them by their first names, and Harry just didn't associate himself with the name Potter at all.

Harry thought it was odd. What was wrong with just Harry?

After her rant and fury at their mutual relatives subsided, Kushina had proceeded to fill in his application with her own family name, telling him in no uncertain terms, that he was now Uzumaki as well as Potter. "Potter is a silly name, anyways," she had said, sticking her tongue out, "but I suppose if it's your father's, it'd only be right for you to keep it. But Uzumaki is yours now too, Hisui." Family.

Harry had happily accepted it and he loved his new name, too: Hisui. It was elegant and special.

"Hari-kun," Minato said, gaining his attention with a bemused look at his mental wanderings. Then he proceeded to give him a little lesson in language and etiquette. "This is the Hokage of Konoha, Hiruzen Sarutobi. You should call him Hokage-sama. It's proper."

Harry nodded and did as he was told. "Hello Hokage-sama."

"Welcome to Konoha, Uzumaki-kun," was the response.

Minato poked him in the back of the neck with his finger.

"Thank you, Hokage-sama," Harry said dutifully, reaching up to rub his hand over the spot of his poking.

"I believe your application for the Academy stated your name as Hisui," the old man said. "Do you prefer Hari?"

Harry just shrugged, rather fond of his new name and not particularly attached to Harry as he hadn't been called Harry very much when the Dursley's had Freak, Boy and You Useless Thing to use.

The Hokage chuckled and leaned forward over his wide desk, a long, thin pipe puffing a thin trail of smoke in one hand.

"You've come a long way, I hear," he said.

Harry merely nodded but replied with a, "yes, Hokage-sama," when Minato poked his neck again.

"As quiet as you were at that age, isn't he, Minato?"

Harry craned his neck around in time to see the blonde's faint look of twisted exasperation.

"I doubt," the old man said, "being under Kushina's care will keep him so for long."

"If she stops talking long enough to let him do so," Minato said.

The Hokage chuckled and leaned back into his chair, puffing on his pipe and letting out rings of smoke that floated over his head. Harry watched them, rather fascinated.

"Looking for missions, Minato?" he asked.

"For my Genin, yes. Something close to home for a day or three, if possible, Hokage-sama. They're still a little banged up, despite their ready status."

"Not Genins anymore," the old man said. "And you looked more banged up than they, as I recall."

Harry glanced between the two, catching Minato's somewhat sheepish look and the older man's amused chastisement. The blonde was banged up, and his face still bruised along one side. Harry knew, having seen the man in a t-shirt that morning, that his arms were more colorful.

"They'll always be my Genin," Minato said.

"I'll see," the Hokage said, sounding suddenly sad. "There is a lull after the Hot Wash at Ando Point, but you know it won't last."

The two men descended into sudden silence and Harry wondered, not understanding. It was then he noticed the almost-there tensions in the room, how the Shinobi looked tired, and worn, many of them beat up yet still up and walking with a determined look to them. And also sadness and fear.

And Harry remembered that Kushina had mentioned a war in her letter to Aunt Petunia.

Minato nudged him lightly, "It's almost time for classes, Hari-kun," he said. "Time for you to go. Do you remember the way?"

Harry nodded and made to move towards the door. Minato's hand on his shoulder stopped him and the man pointed to the old man smoking his pipe behind the desk. Harry blinked at him, then turned and executed a bow from his waist. Fuyu had taught him about the bowing.

Harry straightened and turned to go again and caught Minato moving out of the corner of his eye; the man's finger aimed for the back of his neck again. Determined not to be poked into speaking for the third time, Harry dashed out of the way in the same manner that he evaded Vernon's swings at his head. Harry paused a couple paces away from the blonde, caught sight of his surprised look and still pointed finger, waved at the Hokage and dashed right out of the room.

He heard the Hokage's laugh until he was halfway to the Academy building.

o-

Harry didn't realize that he had a very large problem until he sat in his seat for his first class.

He couldn't read. He knew how to read English, he had learned that in his first two years of primary school back in England. But whatever was drawn on the chalkboard in the front of his classroom was definitely not English. He had no idea what it was supposed to mean. The teacher, a large, rotund man who had introduced himself as something-something Chouga (he had pointed to a portion of the board that presumably read his name, but Harry couldn't read it), was talking in simple enough vocabulary, but Harry's worry over his inability to read had him distracted enough that he couldn't catch more than one in ten words.

It only seemed to be about rules anyways, though Harry wouldn't have minded knowing them, he wasn't too worried yet about missing something important, like how to be a Shinobi. And maybe Kushina would teach him how to read the pretty writings.

It was just as he was calming down enough to listen that his teacher called his new name. Harry looked up, startled. Chouga stood at the front of the sloped classroom, smaller to Harry's eyes than he knew him to be. The man was easily as large as Vernon, but where Vernon was angry and pinched in the face Chouga was simply round and kindly with squiggly lines across the curve of his cheeks. The large man waved his hands in a standing motion.

"Uzumaki Hisui," he said again.

Harry stood slowly, not taking his eyes off his teacher, set to listen with all his might and hoping he'd know all the words and that the man wouldn't ask him to read.

Harry needn't have worried about the reading, or understanding the man's words. He should have been worried more about not knowing the answer to any question asked of him.

"What is the First Rule of Shinobi?"

Harry just stared. He had no idea. Was that what he had been talking about? Shinobi rules, not classroom rules? Something in his face must have tipped his teacher off that he didn't know the answer. Chouga gestured to the lines of script on the chalkboard behind him, as if prompting, and Harry nearly panicked.

"Would someone answer for him?" Chouga asked, his voice still as even and soft as it had been since the start of the class.

Harry chanced a look at his classmates and cringed at the myriad looks he was receiving. And the silence. No one had yet spoken up for him.

Then a clear, if softly spoken voice from the back of the classroom, had most of the children taking their eyes off Harry, who was still standing, if now curled a bit in on himself at the attention.

"The First Rule of Shinobi," Harry glanced over his shoulder to see a red-haired girl standing in the very last row, her tall spindly form bowed across the desk as she leaned over it. Her hair was thickly roped and hung over her eyes, and yet Harry thought she was looking right back at him.

She cited the First Rule as if she had known it all her life. "A Shinobi must always hold allegiance to their Kage."

"Yes, thank you, Lin-chan," Chouga said. "The Kage is a hidden village's head, its leader and protector. He is the strongest of the village's Shinobi."

Harry slid back into his seat silently, resolutely not looking at the others around him, staring down his large teacher at the front. He expertly fought down the urge to cry from frustration and embarrassment. Tears had never endeared him to any one before.

o-

Chouga had pulled Harry aside when the other kids filed out for lunch on the grounds. He spotted the girl who had answered his question for him as she slipped out with the rest. She paused in the hallway, the last out the door, looking back at him. He mouthed a thank you to her. Her head tipped forward into something of a nod, but before she brought it back up again she had slid the door closed between them.

Harry turned to his teacher, his eyes downcast, watching the man's feet.

"Uzumaki-kun," Chouga started, stepping towards him. Harry matched the man's step forward with two of his own. Backwards. There was silence and Harry kept his eyes riveted on the man's fat toes peeking out of his sandals. He could see his own toes, so small in comparison to the other's. Chouga was a big man.

Chouga took another step forward and Harry repeated his retreat.

Then his teacher took another route. "Where are you from, Hisui-kun."

"Surrey, Chouga-sama."

This earned him a chuckle. "Sensei, Hisui-kun. Chouga-sensei. Though I am flattered at the sama, I am not worthy of it, I'm afraid. I am only a Chunin."

"Surrey, Chouga-sensei," Harry repeated dutifully.

"Out of the Elemental Nations, I believe."

Harry just nodded. Chouga-sensei's feet turned and Harry peeked up through the wild disarray of his hair to watch the man round his desk and sit in the chair. It creaked under his weight but the man didn't seem to be at all concerned that it would hold him.

Chouga watched him in return, his eyes a warm chocolate brown that matched his hair and the warmth of his face. Harry didn't not trust him, and having the large man now sitting a few paces away from him settled his nerves and allowed him to see Chouga-sensei and not think of Uncle Vernon towering over him with a meaty hand.

Chouga then gestured to the board behind him. When he spoke it was kind, soft, unassuming and not accusing. "Can you read this, Hisui-kun?"

Harry eyed the scribbles drawn across the chalkboard with trepidation. This was a repeat of the first days in Primary back in England. When his teacher had asked him to read out the letters she had written and Harry was left gaping and staring, unknowing what she was even asking of him. She had asked him three times, before telling him to sit and asking another student. By then his entire class had been staring at him, egged on by Dudley's mean chuckling from the back of the room.

This time had been a little different though. No one had laughed at him. The teacher had not asked him again. Some one else had spoken up for him.

"No, Chouga-sensei."

"You'll spend your lunches here with me then," his teacher said, giving him a smile. "And I'll teach you how to read, Hisui-kun."

And so his days at the Academy began with rules, history and anatomy in the morning, lunches with Chouga-sensei for reading and writing, tactics after lunch, and what he came to know as unarmed combat in the afternoon where they ran, mostly, a lot, and learned how to roll, fall and get slammed to the ground without getting hurt.

o-

Harry suffered through the classroom lectures that forced him to struggle with the written form of the language. He enjoyed the time during lunch with Chouga, but his dislike for the fancy kanji only rose as his fight with it did not end. It was in the afternoons, during the physical exercises with the injured Genma that Harry excelled.

The Academy year was broken into three sessions, and Harry had joined at the start of the second. Despite the late start, he didn't feel like he had missed much. Chouga had described to him why. The Academy classes were designed to be joined at any session, with a rotation of subjects that let the students advance at the pacing they were able to do so. Exams at the end of each session would determine pass or fail and advancement into other classes.

The thought of tests made Harry nervous, but he enjoyed the afternoons out of doors.

The running and rolling and falling were old hats to Harry, who had been playing Dudley's Harry Hunting game for nearly two years – ever since they went to Primary and were let loose on the playground together. His speed on his feet was only rivaled by the long-legged Morino Idate who could outlast him in laps around the complex grounds, but Harry could beat him in short sprints all afternoon long.

Evading holds as they moved into learning grappling, was also something that Harry excelled in, and was experienced with. Initiating holds, however, was not something he felt terribly comfortable about.

Genma would only let him practice his evasion for so long before forcing him to do something besides dance out of his sparring partner's reach. "You can't pin him without getting a hold of him first, Uzumaki! Pins! Holds! Get him down on the ground!"

And Harry would obey and dodge into range and try to slip under or through the other's reaching arms and hands and most of the time he'd get a shoulder or the back of his shirt or arm caught and down he'd be on the ground with a knee planted in his back. It would always leave him tense, ready for a blow, like Dudley would have done. But none of the Academy students would take advantage once they'd pinned him, and Harry learned to relax a little, even with the largest of their classmates, Idate or Kabe, both of who were probably half again larger than Harry.

It was one of these times, pinned to the ground with Kabe's knee digging into his spleen, that Harry spotted Orochimaru through the complex gates. Harry froze, staring even as the man stared right back at him. Neither moved and Harry only really saw Orochimaru and his yellow eyes and stringy black hair through the vertical slats of the gate. He was smiling, that not-smile that said he was thinking of something mean to do and staring at Harry while he thought it.

A light blow to the back of his head pushed his chin down into the dirt and Harry shot his arms up to try and retaliate before he got struck again. He hit something hard and fleshy, something cracked and someone cursed and the weight on him slid to his side. Harry rolled and found Kabe slouched next to him, holding both hands to his nose, which was bleeding profusely. Harry had nearly forgot that he had been sat on by the larger boy.

Harry just watched as the boy's blood seeped through his fingers and slid down his wrists.

"That's better Uzumaki!' Genma announced, suddenly standing over them. "About time you broke a hold. Let me see that, kid."

Kabe let their teacher pull his hands away from his face to inspect the damage Harry's flailing had done. Harry took the time to look back at the gate, searching the wide road outside and the buildings across the street, even going so far as to eye every window and the rooftops.

Orochimaru wasn't there.

"You'll be fine, it's not broke," Genma said, slapping Kabe on the back jovially. "Well done Uzumaki."

Harry turned his attention back to his teacher and gave the man a nod. Genma looked down at him with a crooked smile, a senbon stuck between his teeth.

"Let's see you do it again," he said, revealing his teeth in a grin.

Kabe groaned, still holding his nose and Harry eyed the other boy with minor worry. He hadn't thought he had struck him that hard. How could he have, pinned as he had been? Regardless, the two got to their feet and faced each other again, barely a pace apart, crouched with arms held away from their bodies.

"This time try to hit him before he puts you on the ground, Uzumaki. Begin," was his teacher's advice. Kabe sent Genma a sour look and Harry took the opportunity to dash into the other boy's personal space. He hadn't learned how to strike, or kick, or anything of that sort – at least not at the Academy. But Harry had learned how to slap with the back of the hand (or the side) and how to swing and how to kick at things low on the ground simply by experience in receiving such blows and dodging them in turn.

So since Genma had told him to strike Kabe, and because Harry was shaken by seeing Orochimaru watching him and tired of being pushed down into the dirt so much, Harry did, which the larger boy was wholly unprepared for.

Harry tucked in close to him, skirted around his torso close enough that their shirts rustled together, and once at Kabe's back he jumped as high as he could and with his open palm, slapped the larger boy square in the back of his head. The force of it sent Kabe stumbling forward. He grabbed at the back of his head as Harry landed lightly and immediately danced out of swinging range even though Kabe didn't swing. He just held his arms over his head and squinted at Harry as if he hadn't quite seen him before.

Genma crowed in smug excitement, gripping Kabe's shoulder tightly. Harry wasn't sure who was holding up whom, but kept and eye on both of them anyways.

"That was beautiful!" Genma said, his senbon making audible clacks against his teeth as he talked. "That's the way to do it, well done, Uzumaki!" Then he slapped Kabe hard on the shoulder, which nearly sent the boy to the ground. Kabe turned a glower on their sensei, who was oblivious. "Never underestimate your opponent! Never take your eyes off him either. Your size doesn't matter if you don't pay attention, Kabe, my boy!"

Genma gave them both another, "good job," before finally limping away to torment their other classmates. Harry, having never quite forgotten him, looked through the gates again for Orochimaru.

"Yama Kabe."

Harry whipped his head around to his opponent, who was still holding one hand to his head and offering the other to Harry in a handshake. Harry eyed him for a moment, considering. He was a full head taller than Harry and just as more broad. Long limbed, and thickly built, he almost had no neck, but his smile was wide and his eyes were bright in his mirth at his own mistakes and their teacher's antics. Harry felt dwarfed next him, but he also didn't feel threatened.

"Uzumaki Hisui," he finally said, stumbling over his own name, but stepping forward slowly and clasping the other's hand in his own.

"Nice to finally meet you properly, Hisui," Kabe said, grinning. It was a crooked, easy grin that stretched his face into something not-quite-comical and scrunched his eyes up.

"Yeah," he agreed, "Nice to meet you."

o-

Harry's first act of rebellion came on a day of growing frustrations a couple months into his education at the Academy. He had woken to a quiet house, which was usual, and had eaten breakfast and walked to the Academy alone, which was unusual. A short note scrawled in Kushina's scratchy writing was taped to the fridge. Harry had been unable to decipher most of it, but had gotten the gist; Minato's team had come in late in the night (the blonde was sprawled over the couch, not having made it up the stairs to his bed or even out of his uniform) and Kushina had been called onto a team sent off on some mission to who knew where.

Harry hadn't been able to read that part. And so he trucked off to school alone and worried, his senbon his fingers twisting awkwardly across the back of his knuckles as he walked.

The morning's lessons consisted of muscle anatomy with drawings and labels in neat kanji scrawled across the multitude of chalkboards lining the classroom. Harry spent the morning painstakingly copying what he saw, each careful stroke of sound and word, unable to read most of it, too distracted by his worry to be able to split his attention between copying and listening. While he had each board carefully copied on a long scroll, he had no idea what his teacher had said about it all.

Lunch with Chouga wasn't much better. The large man was letting it hit home to Harry that many visual writings had different verbal meanings, even pronunciations, which Harry found to be utterly confusing and unfair and served only to frustrate him further.

So when Kabe cornered him between tactics lectures in the classrooms and an afternoon of grappling practice with their new combat instructor, Aoba, who had recently been injured, Harry was about done with the entire day.

"Ready to get out of here?" Kabe asked, winking at him even as he gripped Harry's shoulder and steered him towards a door.

"We're ditching for the lake," he continued. Harry wondered who the 'we' consisted of. "You're coming."

Harry didn't care enough to protest and by the time they snuck over the complex's fencing he was trailing Kabe without prompting.

The we was two other students, both of whom Harry was generally familiar with. While the Academy split up the students for classroom lectures, afternoons were a mass exodus of the younger students into the complex grounds for their physical lessons.

Harry had sparred with them both on occasion over the past months. Morino Idate, like the large Kabe, was tall and long-limbed but not as thick and was rather coltish with an easy grin and wide eyes. He held the honor of being the student who could run the furthest and longest. In contrast, the girl, Ky Li Lin, was smaller, though more average than the even smaller Harry. She was rail thin and had long fingers that she used to push her red hair back with. She was utter rubbish at running, decent at throwing, and spent most of the lecture time staring out the windows, which she always sat next to. If given a question, though, she'd always know the answer.

Harry had not forgotten that she had stood up for him on his first day.

Quick introductions were remade in the shadow of a tall apartment building and Harry added Idate and Lin to his short list of friends. Their quick and easy acceptance of him had him grinning along as the four ran through the streets of the village, away from the Academy and its lessons.

They spent that afternoon at a small lake located on an interior training ground. The high walls of the village could be seen through the trees and over the row of buildings nearby, even as the trees secluded the pond. Stripped down to his shorts like the others Harry jumped feet-first into the shallow pond. The water was cool and clear and helped wash away the heat of Fire Country's hot afternoons.

"Better than suffering under Aoba-sensei," Idate said, sitting on the bottom of the pond so that only the top of his head could be seen. "He's a little intense."

Harry agreed with this. While Genma had been loud and said a lot of words that most of the girls in the class yelled at him for, he had been a little easier on them, and grinned a lot. Aoba, in contrast, didn't smile, but it was hard to tell with the high collar of the cape he wore. He also tended to stand over the sparring students and intone all that they were doing incorrectly in a deep monotone voice and he hardly ever blinked while staring.

Idate was convinced that he was either a psychopath about to murder them all or a pervert. Harry just thought he was grumpy.

"What's up with all the different teachers, anyways?" Idate asked, staring up at the sky. It was a good question. While Chouga was still there, they had gone through two combat instructors and three tactics teachers in the past two months.

"The war," Lin said simply from the bank. She had stripped down to her snug shorts and a tank top, revealing a straight, slightly coltish body. "They've conscripted everyone over Genin level for war missions, and that includes the Academy instructors, who are all at least Chunin." She paused, yanking her hair out of her face, though wild roped strands fell back in front of her eyes regardless. "The ones we get are grounded or waiting for reassignment."

Idate shot up from the water with a splash and incredulous look for the girl on the bank. "Grounded? You mean injured," have you seen the color on Aoba-sensei's face?"

"Looks like he got hit with a tree branch," Kabe said.

"Or thrown into a tree face first!"

"Anyway," Lin said, stepping out into the water with a careful, slow step. "It's a war-time procedure, just like the rushed, three-year Academy curriculum instead of the usual five."

Idate gave a determined, excited look and slapped the water with his fist. "Good, I'm ready to get out there!"

Harry wasn't so sure he was ready to go anywhere. He saw what Minato and his Genin looked like the few times they had dragged themselves back to the village or to Kushina's dinner table. Battered and weary and sad and bruised. Obito even had bandages wrapped around his head so much one time that he could barely see or open his jaw enough to eat. He had tried to get Rin to feed him, but Kakashi ended up doing it, blithely offering the tandoori to his grumbling and embarrassed teammate in tiny little bites.

"You'll have to learn how to throw a kunai or something first at least," Kabe said, taunting.

Idate flushed and glowered and swung his arm in a wide splashing arc that sent water towards Kabe and Harry both. As the two larger boys degenerated into a competition of who could displace more water, Harry shifted away towards the bank.

It was then he noticed that Lin, who had taken a couple more short, slow steps into the pond, wasn't actually in the water at all, but rather standing atop it. She was balancing herself with her arms akimbo and her tongue between her teeth and in her concentration on her feet had caused her hair to fall forward and curtained almost her entire face, leaving only the line of her jaw and her lips visible.

She was walking on the water.

"What is that?" Harry asked, his voice quiet in his hesitancy to break the girl's focus.

Lin wobbled but remained upright, the water rippling around her feet. "Water walking," she said around her tongue. "Chakra control exercise."

A yell and a loud splash from Idate and Kabe's scuffle had the water making waves that splashed at the shore. Lin, her concentration and level surface both broken wobbled, tipped and with a shout splashed into the lake shooting up a spray of water and complaints.

Harry blocked the worse of the splash with his arm, grinning at Lin's sodden, disgruntled look.

"I win!" Idate crowed from the middle of the pond, wrapped halfway around Kabe's broad shoulders, his fingers tangled in the other boy's hair and his ankle hooked over a shoulder to hold him above the surface.

o-

The four trudged home as the sun was getting low, still wet, hungry and making up improbable ninja arts. The others were doing better at it than Harry, as he was unfamiliar with what was so-called normal in the Shinobi world, and what wasn't so much. They had shot down his idea of being able to see through walls very quickly.

"Oh, the Hyuga can do that," Idate said in a manner that told Harry he ought to have known already.

"Super strength would be awesome!" Kabe announced, flexing his biceps. "Strength to uproot trees!"

"Give it a few more years," Lin mumbled, as the boys watched the large Kabe demonstrate his future technique in uprooting the great Konoha trees. The larger boy wrapped his arms around the trunk, not even able to hug half the girth of the tree, and strained against it, making ridiculous faces.

"Flying," Harry suggested, as the three turned away from Kabe's continued attempts to will himself to super strength.

"Like, without wings?" Idate asked.

Harry shrugged. "Wings wouldn't be so bad."

Idate looked at him cross-eyed. "You'd look really weird with wings instead of arms, Hari."

"I suppose you could have a bird Summons," Lin said. "You could probably fly on some of their backs, if they were strong enough."

"There's an idea!" Idate said, clapping his hands together. "Summons! What about a dragon for a Summon!"

"That's unlikely," Lin told him, "They wouldn't stoop to answering a human's call."

"And other creatures are so high and mighty?"

A soft, hissing chuckling interrupted the boys' conversation. All four froze and turned to the source. Harry saw him first, leaning against the side of a building in its shadow, arms crossed and staring down at them with an amused smirk.

"Orochimaru –"

"Orochimaru-sama!" Lin said, covering Idate's lack of polite honorific.

Orochimaru slid out from the shadow, his yellow eyes flickering between them and coming to rest on Harry.

"How are your studies, Uzumaki-kun?" he asked, sidling up to Harry. Harry, stiff, shuffled back half a step but stopped when the motion only served to increase the strange delight in the man's eyes.

"Well enough," Harry finally answered.

"Good." Orochimaru's grin widened. "Are you getting stronger, Uzumaki-kun?"

The man reached out and gripped Harry by the bicep with long, strong fingers in a vice-grip. Harry figured he was getting stronger, what with all the exercises in the yard. He was about to answer with an affirmative but Orochimaru didn't seem to be at all interested in a response from him. The man's fingers squeezed hard and Harry repressed the flinch at the pain.

"Good," Orochimaru said, leaning down to speak into his ear. "It wouldn't do for you to be weak."

He released Harry suddenly and leaned away. "After all," he said, his eyes sliding between the four Academy students, "there is a war going on."

Orochimaru gave them his creepy grin again and took a sidling step back. Harry let the breath he had been holding out in a silent rush. The man noticed and gave him a knowing, patronizing look.

Harry frowned as the man turned with a bending, sinuous motion.

"Get stronger for me, Uzumaki-kun," Orochimaru said, slithering away from them down the street. Once he was out of sight, Harry's frown deepened and he rubbed his arm where the man had gripped him. He felt bruised.

"You know," Idate said into the silence. "He's damn creepy."

"He's a Sannin," Lin chided, "Be respectful!"

"He's the damn Sannin-Creepy-sama," Kabe quipped flapping his jaw ridiculously as Idate made a face at the girl.

"It's an honor to have his attentions, Hari," Lin told him, ignoring Kabe's insult to the man. "He likes you. Maybe he'll chose you as an apprentice!"

Harry was quite sure that if that happened ever he wouldn't be accepting it.

"And so young, too," Lin continued. She eyed Harry critically. "What have you been doing to get his attention?"

"Nothing," Harry said.

Idate gave the girl an incredulous look and waved his arm off in the direction that Orochimaru had disappeared in. "He's creepy! He was practically sticking his tongue in Hari's ear! He's probably a pedophile. Hari, watch out for him, don't let him try to touch you."

"Idate!"

Harry looked at the taller boy as if he'd lost his mind.

"He's a Sannin!" Lin exclaimed.

"Sannin or no," Idate said, waggling his eyebrows and sticking out his tongue lewdly.

Harry frowned again and looked back down the street.

o-

Academy was held six days a week for most of the day. By they time the running and rolling and falling was over with stomachs were growling and the sun was low. It was after a particularly weary day that Harry wandered out of the complex gates after the other students. He waved at Kabe as they turned to opposite directions. They had begun to learn joint-pins and locks, and Harry, with his small size, had found himself pinned to the ground of the Academy's training yard more times than not with Aoba spouting instructions at him as he tried not to breathe in the dust. It was only about one in five chances that Harry managed to secure a pin or joint lock before his opponent and the odds were continuing to frustrate him.

He was still shaking dirt out of his hair as he began his walk home, alone, which was unusual, but Minato was out with his team on a mission and had been for nearly a week, and Kushina had taken a C-rank that had her running messages to an outpost somewhere.

Harry had gone about his day with the knowledge that his cousin would be back in Konoha in time for dinner with him where they would try to make each other forget that Minato was still gone without word and she would pull books down from her shelves and read to him to help him with his growing Japanese vocabulary.

He was going to need it. The first session was nearing its end after three months and Harry had a tight ball of nerves up-setting his stomach from the thought of the written tests he was going to have to face.

It was as he was turning the corner to his street that something had him freezing in place, his senbon stilling from its path across his fingers. A shadow darted out of the corner of his eye and he whipped his head around to follow it. There was nothing there. Nothing except tall row houses, lit windows with families setting dinner, a cat in the narrow alley, birds – not singing.

The cat's eyes glowed yellow and Harry stared as they grew and shrouded his sight, filling all that he saw with their sickly yellow, slit eyes, and a darkly amused laughter rolled over him and suddenly Orochimaru was there and the cat wasn't a cat but a snake that slithered up his legs and wrapped around his chest and hissed obscene promises into his ear and Harry fell as the eyes claimed his mind.

A lone senbon lay discarded on the road.

o-

He woke in fits. At times coherent and others not so much. There would be times that it would only be blackness and he wouldn't know if he was awake or not or if Orochimaru and taken his eyes and now he was blind and couldn't see. Sometimes it was quiet and still. Harry would lay and not be able to move and not have the energy to try. Distant screams or pleadings or whimpers would echo around the ceiling and he'd scrunch his eyes shut and think of Kushina's endless waves of red hair. There were times that he'd wake and there would be only pain that simmered through his veins like some kind of acidic blood poison and he'd whimper and gasp and not scream even as Orochimaru loomed up over him with his snake eyes and hissed at him.

Once, Harry hissed back.

He thought he had asked, "why?" but Orochimaru, in his surprise never answered him.

And since waking only hurt, Harry slept and built a house in his mind and armed it was trip-wires and paper bombs and chain-link fences with barbed wire toppings and gattling guns and canons and dragons. He filled it with the smell of Kushina's cooking and her red hair and Minato's smile and Obito's laughter and the sparkling stars in the sky and shepherd's pie and dango and geraniums.

Pounding woke him briefly. It thrummed up through the table like a great heartbeat and his head hurt and the pain pounded in rhythm to the banging down some hallway. He groaned and tried to move but couldn't and suddenly Orochimaru was there, hissing obscenities down on him and grabbing his head in a vice grip that dug his nails into the soft part under his jaw and the scalp over his forehead.

Harry protested but was too weak to even shake his head or voice words.

Orochimaru was talking, gabbling quickly about a clan with long life and blood and something about natural disasters. Harry only heard his name – Uzumaki – and the mad desperation of a cornered man. Harry barely understood what was going on. The pounding grew louder, more forceful, and Orochimaru's nails dug deep enough to draw blood, and raked down Harry's face. He cried out at the sudden sharp pain of the scratches.

Harry thought he was going to kill him.

Instead he loomed and stretched and leaned over Harry where he lay. He brought his face so close to Harry's that their breaths mingled. And quick as a striking snake Orochimaru bit him. Teeth sharp and finely serrated slipped deep into the flesh where his neck met his shoulder and molten fire flowed through the bite, burning his veins and turning his flesh to ice as it passed.

Harry gasped in sharply, the air burning his lungs even as he struggled to breath it in. Orochimaru left him as quickly as he had come, but Harry barely noticed for the ice that was taking over his limbs. It was cold. Yet even then his blood burned and his insides churned.

It built up in a swirling mass and clashed and then something within his mind cracked and shattered and dark, slippery shadows surged forth and consumed him gnawing at his gut.

Harry ran; ran back to the house he had built with its dragons and geraniums.

o-

It was Kushina's voice that woke him again. She was singing, or humming with the occasional stream of words as if it was an old song and she couldn't remember all the words even though she never forgot the tune. Harry thought he was still in the house in his head until he saw a room he didn't know stretched over him. Painted almost all white, with blue curtains and a window that led to a hallway that was equally whitewashed. A faint and muffled beeping and voices that came and went floated through the ajar door.

It was a hospital.

Harry decided that it was a safe bet that he was no longer going to be subjected to pain upon waking and that it would be alright if he remained awake for a while.

Kushina was in the chair next to his bed, sprawled over it withher legs thrown over one arm and her hair over the other with her arms crossed over its back for her chin to rest on. While the chair was facing more or less towards Harry in his bed, she had turned herself to see out the wide window to the sky and the towering trees outside. She continued to hum and sing, seeming unaware that she was doing so out loud.

Kushina was also unaware that Harry was awake and thirsty.

His first attempt to speak got him only a rough gasping of air, which served its purpose in gaining his cousin's attention. She whirled in the chair and was leaning over Harry in an instant. Harry, for his part, was still trying to control the sudden fit of cough that racked him and had managed to push himself half upright.

"Easy," she said, sitting up on the bed next to him. "Easy, you're safe, just breathe, it's ok, you're ok, Hisui," she continued in a litany, curling her arm around his shoulders and holding him up while he worked to control his lungs and throat and just breathe.

Harry's body cooperated after a moment, and he sat hunched into Kushina's warmth in silence, breathing in her faint scent and relishing in the heat of her body being so close to his. He had so rarely been held like this.

"Alright, now, Hisui?"

Harry nodded and she shifted away, but didn't leave. She handed him a glass of water from the side table, and Harry cradled it in weak hands as he drank. She turned so she could look at him straight and Harry looked up into her mis-matched eyes. Brilliant and sparkling, they were like the summer sky and new cut grass rolled into one gaze. She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair. No doubt it was a tangled mess. Her look of amused resignation confirmed it.

Harry finally gathered the courage to ask the one question he had from the beginning.

"Why?"

Her face was full of sadness and regret. "He wanted your blood," she said, resting two fingers on his chest over his heart. "My blood. Our clan's blood."

"Uzumaki."

Kushina nodded and Harry wished he could take the sadness away for her.

"What's special about it?" Harry asked.

She hesitated. "He wanted many people's bloodlines." She shook her head and ran her fingers over his hair again. "The Uzumaki clan has the potential for long life, vitality and stamina. You are a part of that clan, even if distantly now." She smiled at him, though it was a small, almost strained smile. "We also tend to have special chakra, and I think he wanted both things."

"Special chakra?" Harry looked down at the cup in his hands, half full. He didn't feel all that special. Just lucky. Sometimes.

"Yes," Kushina continued, still playing with his hair. "I will train you some, and see if you have this special chakra. Not all in our clan did."

"I lost your senbon," Harry said very quietly. Kushina looked at him with a confused expression, as if completely ignorant of what he spoke. "The hari you gave me," Harry clarified, wondering how she forgot when he remembered the gift with such incredible importance.

"Oh," she said softly, wide-eyed. Then she smiled sadly and her arm tightened around him. "I will give you a new one, Hisui."

Harry just nodded, ashamed that he had lost her gift and awed that she would so readily give him another.

She seemed distant to Harry, as if thinking about something far away. He kept his silence and watched her watch the scenery out of the window, content just for her nearness, comforted by her touch. The terrors of Orochimaru's dark lab seemed distant and muffled in the light of the morning. He wondered how long he had slept. He wondered if anybody else, who's screams he had heard echoing in the tunnels had lived too.

o-

Exactly what Orochimaru had done to Harry was mostly a mystery. His body told a story of needles and cuts, shackles and bites and lingering poisons. The physical wounds would heal, and with the medic-nin's attentions, quickly so. The poison residues would seep out on their own, and he'd feel better as they did, as if shaking the flu. Having never had the flu or even been sick, Harry found the come-and-go fever chills and general aching of his body a weary burden that he was anxious to be rid of. His chakra was reacting oddly, they said, coming and going in waves that was unusual, sometimes it would dim so low they thought he should be in a coma, and other times it would pulse and surge. They didn't know what to do about it, nor did they know the source of the odd reactions. But he was very young and the medics were optimistic that his chakra would settle on its own. He would live for sure and might still be Shinobi one day. Maybe; if he would ever be able to control his strange chakra patterns.

Harry found their words pessimistic and told Kushina so. She stared at him, then laughed, the sound rich and joyful.

"You'll be a great Shinobi, Hisui!" she told him, still grinning ear to ear. "Never give up!"

"Teaching him your way of the ninja, Kushina?" Minato asked from the door.

Kushina mumbled into Harry's ear about it being better than anybody else's so-called-way, but either Minato couldn't hear or chose to ignore the comment. Harry, for his part, was rather distracted by the look in the blonde's eye. It was hard, weary and chill as ice. But when Minato met Harry's eyes, his look softened if just a little and Harry was reassured that whatever had made the man so cold and mad wasn't anything Harry had done.

"How are you feeling, Hari-kun?" he asked, crossing the room to stand near his bed.

Harry shrugged, "Better."

Minato studied him and Harry endured the scrutiny in silence.

"Do you remember what happened?" Minato finally asked.

Harry jerked a little and suddenly Kushina's arms were around his shoulders again and the heat of her closeness comforted him. She was always so warm to the touch.

"Yes," he said. "Some."

Minato nodded, thoughtful.

"I was walking home from Academy," Harry said, preempting either of them asking. "Orochimaru came out of the alley. I fell asleep. I remember his eyes."

Minato's tense look started to return as Harry talked, but the man didn't interrupt or even prompt him to continue. Kushina remained unusually silent as Harry struggled to explain the disjointed memories of what had happened to him at Orochimaru's hands. He could recall very little of anything.

"I didn't wake up much. I remember screams from far away. And snakes. And dark lights." Harry hunched and reminded himself that Kushina was there, holding him, and the sun was shining and he wasn't hidden away unable to move underground where he had learned of pain on a level he had never known before.

"It hurt," he whispered, staring at his knees under the blanket. His cousin's hands tightened their grip, warm and strong and there.

"He bit me."

That got Minato's attention. "What? Where?"

Harry, startled at the man's sudden intensity, just reached up to wrap his hand over the place Orochimaru had bitten him. Minato moved so fast Harry barely saw him. He was suddenly leaning over the bed, pulling Harry's hands away from the spot so he could see it. Harry flinched at the sudden and unexpected contact but didn't otherwise move.

Minato, seeing the flinch, gave him a small, apologetic smile. Harry let the man pull the collar of his shirt aside to peer at the bite. His face darkened and iced over again and Harry kept his stillness and silence out of reflex.

"It's a cursed seal," the blonde said, "a juinjutsu."

"Is he going to be alright?" Kushina asked, her voice laced with tense anxiety.

"He woke," Minato said, shrugging one shoulder slightly, seemingly optimistic despite his short words. "Only one other with this mark did so, out of the eleven we found two years ago. You remember him biting you?"

Harry nodded. It was one of the few clearer memories.

"I can use a sealing method to lock away the worst of its affects," Minato said, still inspecting Harry. "But you seem to be faring better than Anko-chan had. She didn't remember receiving the mark. It was causing her a considerable amount of discomfort and negativity, but that could have been due to Orochimaru's continued proximity by still being in the village. The best way that she could describe it was that it felt like a burning snake crawling under her skin hissing at her in anger."

Kushina sucked in an angry breath and Harry felt her hands tighten and loosen again on him. Minato simply watched, as if waiting to see how Harry would describe what he felt. He felt weak, tired, at times chilled and others sweaty. He had a faint headache and the small cuts and needle holes dotted along his arms and legs still stung. But he didn't think he had a snake under his skin and told the blonde that.

"It's not under my skin," Harry said, then tapped his head, "They're here." This did not seem to comfort them at all. "And they don't hurt me, but they are hissing at me. And I have a headache I guess. I think they're angry, but they can't go anywhere."

And that was the difference. Harry had somehow trapped the essence of the dark chakra that Orochimaru had injected into him, chained it and sealed it away in a windowless room in the house he had built in his head. The snakes hissed, they writhed, they spit angry jets of poison, which Harry theorized was the source of his current dull headache. He'd have to chain them up better, and maybe muzzle them.

Minato and Kushina shared a look over him, but Harry was a little distracted with his internal attention on the ugly yellow and red serpents in his head and the white chains that he wanted to knot around their snouts.

"Hisui," Kushina's stunned voice caught his attention. Harry looked up into her eyes and found more than just surprise there. Was that pride? "I think those lessons on our special chakra might have to start sooner than later."

Harry blinked. Our special chakra?

o-

Once he was able to walk mostly steadily on his own, and the scratches on his face and arms had healed to angry red lines, the medics let him go home. He made it all the way out the front door of the hospital before becoming too winded to continue.

Kushina leaned over him, her hand on his shoulder, it rarely having left him since he had woken three days ago. "The poisons will make you tired very easily," she said, soft enough that only Harry and Minato, who stood behind Harry's other shoulder, probably heard her.

Harry just concentrated on breathing through the cotton in his chest, gripping the set of eight shiny new senbon Kushina had gifted him upon his checkout. He was quite determined to never lose them.

As Harry got his breathing settled and his legs to stop feeling so wobbly, they continued, slowly. Their way through the village was long, and littered with little pauses at small shops and a dango stand and at the gates to the Academy complex and in front of one of the public bathhouses – all disguised so that Harry had a chance to catch his breath and rest his weary body. All the while Kushina chatted to him about the village's happenings and her friends and their lives. Every once in a while Minato would add a few words of his own to her stories before Kushina talked over him again. Harry just listened.

He had been held in Orochimaru's underground facility for over a month.

o-

Harry's return to the Academy was heralded by a mass rise in tensions due to the war.

o-


	3. The Clan from Whirlpool

**EDITED:** April 2014. Major edit: the Uzumaki clan taijutsu has been entirely removed from this story, which was originally introduced in this chapter. It's removal has affected very little in the grand scheme of things. Also grammatical edits.

**Author's Response:** No, I haven't forgotten about Tenzo/Yamato. He'd currently be… nine or ten at this point in the story, so he's off busy being a Chunin. Also: the timeline is only partially canon right now, for those of you wondering. Also Also: these folks are ninja, remember; underneath the underneath and all…and yes, that's a hint of sorts for something. Last Also: meet Anko. She's twelve.

o- ** The Clan from Whirlpool** -o

By: Renatus

Harry's convalescence lasted a few weeks and would end with his return to the Academy for its winter session. He had missed completely the ending tests of the three month session he had started in. As the long winter break wound to a close, Harry got the chance to introduce his first friend to his student peers. Obito trailed him through the village, his head and arm bandaged to near ridiculous degrees and half his face purple from bruising. His recent wounds didn't seem to deter the teen's cheerful mood at all, and Harry was glad for that.

"Where're we going, Hari?" he asked, letting Harry lead him through the village's streets towards the interior training grounds.

Harry gave the taller boy a grin. "Swimming!"

Obito's face morphed into something that was almost indulgent, but it faded quickly into anticipated happiness. Harry decided to ignore the indulgent and just focus on the happy.

They ran into Lin in the shadow of a building, and the red-haired girl greeted him with a bright smile.

"Hisui!"

"Lin-chan," Harry greeted, "This is Obito!"

The two exchanged their own hellos, and the three continued on to their favorite swimming hole. Lin shot him a few penetrating looks through the thick ropes of her hair, which Harry did his best to ignore. It had been near two months since she had seen him, after all, and Harry knew rumors had spread about what had happened. The few times he saw one of the Academy students in the streets the last couple weeks, they always gave him very intense curious looks.

By the time they arrived to the training ground and the pond therein, Lin had apparently decided that Harry was still Harry and was relatively whole and she was no longer worried about him. Her worry had instead changed to curiosity. Harry ignored that, too.

Kabe and Idate were already in the water, splashing and making such a ruckus that they didn't even notice the new arrivals.

"Boys," Lin grumbled, eyeing the two with distaste. "Wouldn't see a damn mountain until it dropped on their heads."

"Hey, I've an idea," Obito said brightly, forming a seal with his hands. Harry and Lin watched him with undisguised fascination, and Obito grinned widely at the attention. The teen flashed through several seals, two of which Harry didn't even know, before ending in the familiar seal of the ram and stomping the ground hard with one foot. He intoned the words of an earth release technique and with the combination of his voice and the stomp, the ground rippled out from beneath him.

Harry and Lin stumbled into each other as the ground pushed up under their feet and spread out like a ripple in a pond. It rumbled loud and low, and sunk under the bank of the lake with a small splash. Harry stared at the water as it rippled subtly, disappointed at the seemingly failed technique.

He was about to turn to Obito when a loud crack sounded through the clearing. It was followed closely by a great splashing wave that surfaced from out of nowhere in the middle of the pond and pushed up high into the sky like a geyser. The two boys in the water yelled out in surprise as they were displaced along with the lake water. The water shot up, crested and then fell back to the ground like a sudden downpour of rain.

In the midst of it, Idate and Kabe waded in the lake, stunned and staring as the pond water rained down on them, drenching them in a way that their splashing hadn't quite been able to do.

Obito crowed in delight.

"You have got to teach me that technique!" Lin said, staring at the soggy boys with glee.

o-

Harry's return to the Academy was heralded by a mass rise in tensions due to the war. Having arrived in Konoha well after its starting, and only having been barely exposed to it at all, the concept of a Great Shinobi War was rather foreign to him. He knew about it, of course. He knew that it was dangerous. He knew that almost weekly ceremonies were held where names of Shinobi were called out as heroes. Fallen heroes.

Harry understood it enough to fear hearing Kushina or Minato's names called.

He also knew, intellectually, that he was being taught to some day take part in it, should it go on for that long. Despite that, he had a hard time imaging what a battle between Shinobi was really like. His classmates talked about it, a lot, embellishing their schoolyard spars with imagination to something beyond reality. Their speculated stories were punctuated with made up techniques and bravado and ending in glory.

Harry wasn't so sure that was the way battles really went.

They also stared at him for the first few days, knowing that something had happened but not having been told what or where he had been for nearly two months, only that he had disappeared for a month, been gravely injured and spent weeks in the hospital and then at home. They knew that the Sannin, Orochimaru, had been chased from the village by the Hokage last month. They also knew that the Shinobi of Iwa were pushing hard at the northern borders and had infiltrated some of the tall Fire Country forests lately and most of the Jonin of Konoha were not currently in the village (statistics Harry knew to include Minato and his team) nor many of the Chunin, though the masked ANBU were in plentiful supply.

All of these things coincided and left Harry feeling like they looked at him as a piece of the informational puzzle. He did his best to ignore the stares and took his seat in the classroom, the familiar sight of Chouga something of a comfort, though the chalkboards full of kanji was not.

They had moved on from muscle anatomy and were now studying the chakra system. Due to Harry's incarceration and following time in the hospital, he had missed the end of session exams, the two week winter break and the start of the winter session. Kushina had merely shrugged and told him to do his best.

And so he did, armed with a few weeks break that included much time with his cousin. Harry was ready to tackle the arduous task of Academy lectures again. Harry dictated his notes carefully, and wondered what all he had missed.

His return also coincided with another new physical defense instructor, or rather an assistant to Aoba, who was no longer bruised but still had his arm in a sling. Anko wasn't all that much older than some of the older students in the Academy. With violet hair, gold-brown eyes and a red, cropped shirt over a mesh body suit, she was very colorful next to the grey and black-clad Aoba who was considerably taller.

They were like night and day.

Aoba sat them all down in the shade of the wide tree in the yard. Harry plopped down next to Kabe, breathing hard and sore from their runs. It was a blazing afternoon, hot and humid. He felt as if he was completely worn out already, and his large friend gave him a fleeting, worried look. Harry shook his head and tried to control his breathing. The runs around the complex yards hadn't worn him out so much since his first months in the Academy.

He felt as if he had started over.

"We'll be starting lessons in weaponry," Aoba told them, setting a box down at his feet. Harry and the others craned their necks trying to peer into it to see what surprises it held for them. Aoba's teenaged assistant crouched down next to the box, ruffling through it and making clanking sounds. She caught the increased looks of interest from the students and gave them all a rather wild grin, which Aoba didn't see at all.

Harry frowned at the girl as she pulled an armful of something out of the box.

"We'll start with kunai," Aoba told them. "It is a standard and versatile tool and we will be working with them for the rest of your time at the Academy. The kunai will be your closest friend, when we're done."

A set of a dozen dull-edged kunai were passed out to them by Anko, the girl grinning at them as she handed out the braces. Harry received his with a straight face, eyeing the weapons with a stirring of trepidation. Anko's grip tightened and didn't release them, and Harry raised his eyes to meet hers. Her thin grin morphed into something wide and a little sinister and something in it sparked a burst of dark familiarity and fear in him.

Harry let out a low hiss and jerked backwards, pulling the brace of weapons out of her hand. Kabe moved next to him, his bulk almost looming, but comforting in a way that Anko's bent over form was not. The girl's look turned into triumph and she moved away without a word.

Harry watched her go with a guarded expression, his thoughts whirring.

"Alright?" Kabe asked, his voice so quiet Harry barely even heard him.

Harry nodded, feeling his body settle and his heart rate slow back into something more normal and less panicky. He glanced around, but his classmates weren't paying him any attention, their eyes on their own new weapons or on Aoba as he spoke of the kunai's usefulness.

Anko didn't look back at him, continuing her route through the seated students and passing out kunai. Harry eyed the girl, unsettled.

Her grin had reminded him very strongly of Orochimaru.

"Pay attention!" Aoba called out. Harry gripped the brace of kunai in his lap and tried to ignore the teenaged girl moving around them while simultaneously keeping alert for her exact position in relation to him.

Harry and his classmates were then lectured on the basic and myriad uses of this standard Shinobi tool. It could be thrown, stabbed, used as a knife in a battle or to dig roots or cut tough ration bars. It was effective as a hook to tie steel wire to, or a weight to throw flash tags, or used as leverage to scale a tree or sharpened and tied to a staff to make a spear. Aoba stressed the kunai's versatility, while Anko twirled one around her fingers with a demented grin behind his back.

Harry fingered the set that rested in his lap as he listened, thinking of the Iwa boy-Shinobi in the forest that Harry had stabbed in the arm.

She didn't even look at him again.

o-

Harry was crouched over his meticulous notes from Academy at the kitchen table when he was joined by Minato. The blonde raided something out of the fridge and slid onto the bench opposite him with barely a sound. Harry felt his presence more than he heard it, but the sound of the man's chopsticks breaking apart had him raising his head. The blonde gave him a smile as he offered a second pair to Harry.

Harry took the offered utensils and pushed his schoolwork aside. Minato set the boxed lunch down in the middle of the table, rice and fish and snow peas and candied carrots. Harry grinned as he snatched a slice of sugary carrot out of the box and popped it into his mouth.

"Good thing Kushina is off on a mission," Minato commented, pulling the fish apart into bite-sized pieces. "Or she'd yell at us for ruining our dinner."

Harry smiled around his mouthful.

"When will she be home?" he asked.

"Probably late tonight."

Harry just nodded and dug into the fish of the bento box. The two males ate in silence, both thinking of their absent housemates. Kushina had taken a mission, which Harry knew no details of, and Kakashi was assumed to be off in the training grounds lost somewhere. Harry was quite sure that Rin and Obito were with the white-haired youth, but he didn't actually know for sure. That Minato was home while his students were not was unusual.

Minato finally broke the silence half way through their cold meal. "What are you learning, Hari-kun?"

Harry swallowed his mouthful of rice to answer. "Chakra systems, terrain tactics, sweep kicks and kunai throws."

"How are you doing with them?"

Harry shrugged. "Fine."

Minato gave him a level look that was laced with expectation and Harry ducked his head a little into his shoulders.

"I do alright with the study and tactics if someone explains it to me," Harry admitted. "And the yard activities are easier now, but I still get tired fast." This last was said with a scowl.

"You were inactive for nearly two months," Minato said a little slowly. "It is expected that your conditioning was set back some. Is it going easier for you now?"

"A little."

"Good. How is your aim?"

Harry was glad the man wasn't asking him about his lectures. His ability to read the complex writing systems was still sketchy and not a little embarrassing. Harry didn't like to talk about it and rather hoped that the blonde knew nothing of his struggles.

"We just started throwing them," Harry said of the kunai. Then, in an attempt to railroad any discussion of his mediocre ninja skills Harry asked about Anko.

"Anko?" Minato looked surprised. "She's at the Academy?"

"Helping Aoba-sensei in the yard," Harry confirmed. "She's –" Harry trailed off, unsure how to explain the teenager. She unsettled him.

Minato was silent for a while, watching and Harry didn't offer anything more. The blonde didn't ask, either.

"Anko-chan was once Orochimaru's student. One of his Genin," Minato finally said. Harry stared. No wonder she reminded him of the man. "He gave her and nine others a very similar Cursed Seal to the one he gave to you, though they were a little different."

"They were different?"

Minato nodded but didn't explain the differences. "She was the only one of the ten who survived. That was two years ago."

Harry was confused and was sure it showed on his face. Orochimaru had done all that to someone else? Years ago? Minato seemed to read his confusion and questions.

"The Third chastised him, even grounded him from active missions for a number of months." The blonde let out a carefully controlled breath of air and stared over the half wall that separated the table from the kitchen and out the window to the back garden. "Orochimaru produced documents that showed that the ten Genin had given their permission for the seal to be placed on them. While the technique was dangerous, Orochimaru said he did not know it would kill them, and expressed regret that it had. The Third granted him some leniency and classed the technique as a Forbidden one."

Harry caught the traces of fury and indignation from the man and the leaking traces of them had the boy stilling in response.

"Anko-chan doesn't remember being Sealed," Minato said. "Her memory is clouded of that time. She is understandably sore about it. Her sensei gave her the Cursed Seal and cast her aside."

Harry wasn't sure what to think of that, but knew what it was like to be rejected. He also knew what it was like to receive a Cursed Seal. The pain had flooded him like an acidic poison. He wondered if it would be better to not remember the application. Maybe he would stop flinching when somebody got too close to touching his shoulder if he didn't remember.

"Orochimaru is responsible for a great deal more than we had ever thought," Minato commented, watching him with a careful eye. Harry bore the scrutiny, his mind distracted by the hazy, pain-filled memories of Orochimaru and the more stark encounters he had with Anko over the last few days at the Academy.

Harry finally pulled himself from his memories only to look up to Minato's dark look. He pulled back slightly in surprise which had Minato's face softening immediately into a thin, though comforting smile.

"Kushina and I would both like to get our hands on Orochimaru," the blonde said, a coldness flickering through his icy eyes. "So we could wring his neck for what he's done to so many. And especially to you."

Harry stared. He'd never had anyone be so full of revenge for him. Towards him, yes. He'd dodged Vernon's knuckles and Petunia's wooden spoon enough to know that look of dark promise well. But no one had ever taken up retribution on his behalf before.

It stunned him into wonder.

o-

Uses Of The Kunai became a daily addition to their afternoon lessons in the yard. The students would be split into smaller groups and rotate through stations, some running, some grappling, some throwing kunai or practicing various other uses of the blade and then they'd all switch after a time.

Harry found he rather liked the kunai throwing practice. He would line up across from the row of round straw targets with his group, and rotate through the three different kinds of throws they had been taught. Over the shoulder, full arm throws that had the kunai spinning head over hilt, that were difficult to get the pointy end to strike the target at the right time. Then across the chest throws that were done facing the target sideways that sent the blades straight at the target and under-handed throws that had them pulling the kunai from their leg-pouches and throwing all in one smooth motion. Then they were to switch hands and do them all again, a dozen times each, and then repeat.

Harry liked the repetition. It was soothing and he could fall into it with a steady rhythm of concentration until Anko bounced up behind him.

"Hisui-kun! Throw harder, use more force!" She leaned up right behind him with her nose next to his ear. Her sudden proximity startled him so badly that he jerked violently away from her, unbidden memories of Orochimaru's slithering touches and hissing in his ears surfacing and causing him to sweat.

Anko stared at him in startled surprise that was quickly replaced with a gleeful, dark grin. Harry thought that it looked like a promise of much future discomfort.

"Such reflexes, Hisui-kun," she said, darkly happy. "Did I scare you?"

Harry didn't give her a verbal reply, and only returned her look with an irritated one of his own.

"You'll have to get over that," she said more quietly. She looked at him as if understanding, but also with determination. Dark shadows flickered in her bright eyes, dulling their color, and Harry studied the girl with Minato's words echoing in his ears. She had survived Orochimaru like he had. Perhaps she had suffered similarly. He couldn't help but feel something of a kinship with her, despite his edginess with her unexpected closeness or creepy grins.

"Yes, Anko-sensei" Harry conceded giving her a single nod.

She grinned at him, but this time it wasn't dark or demented or gleeful; just happy, sharing.

o-

They discovered one of the cursed seal's side effects only a few days after Harry returned to classes.

The dreams had always been there, even back in England, misty visions and feelings of foreign places and people; pain, shadows, fear, hatred – they would jerk Harry awake with a muffled gasp, sweating and clammy and cold, even in the warm air of Fire Country. He rarely remembered them, never understood them, and the agitation they caused would fade with the morning to be picked up again the next night when the moon was dark.

Sometimes, when he was home, Kakashi would reach across the floor in the darkness and press his fingers against Harry's shoulder - there and firm.

Then he had one that made him scream.

He woke to hands on him, pinning him down, escalating his fear and he thrashed violently.

"Hisui!"

Harry stilled, gasping in deep lungfulls of warm air, eyes wide and staring into the concerned bicolored eyes of Kushina. Her face was close to his, etched in worry, and her hands felt strong and reassuring against his shoulders.

"Kushi-nee – " sister, he called her. He couldn't help it.

She drew him into her, wrapping her strong arms around him and he clung to her support as the dream seeped from his mind, leaving a dull ache and a fog behind that was barely felt through the lingering fears. He noticed distantly that he was trembling and his breathing was short and gasping. She shushed him and rocked him and Harry never wanted to let her go.

"Is he gone?" he asked desperately.

"Who, baby?"

"Him…is He gone?"

Kushina hesitated and it only served to make Harry's trembling worsen. "Yes," she finally said, "He's gone from the village."

Harry wasn't quite sure who he was asking about. There was Orochimaru, and then there was the dark familiar presence in his nightmares that was so similar but yet so different at the same time. The yellow and red snakes were hissing and spitting and writhing in his mind and he couldn't even determine if they were angry at him or fighting each other, and he could only knot chains around the mess of both and pull the links tight and muzzle them and then flee.

But even in the tree-covered yard of his mind, with the house closed up tight and dark, he could hear the echoes of the snakes hissing from deep within its confines.

Kushina sang then, a lilting tune that spoke of waters and wind, waves and leaves, of deep surfs and all the colors of the rainbow found in the scales of fish. Harry realized that it was a child's song. It taught him of the ocean, which he had never seen before, but he felt like he knew something of due to her song. It was long, and repetitious, repeating lines and verses in differing orders, like the ever-continuous thrum of waves on the shore.

The foreign malicious anger and his own terror settled as the song went on. As his trembling ceased her voice softened to a hum, continuing the song's tune but leaving off its words. Harry continued to listen, wondering what it would be like to stand on the ocean's shore and feel the waves hit his shins.

"What's it like?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper in the dark of the room.

"What?"

"The sea."

Kushina's arms tightened around him and when she spoke Harry could hear the smile as well as the sadness in her voice.

"It's endless," she said. "It goes on and on until it reaches the sky. And then it comes back in waves, some small, some large, some curling and foaming and massive in their size, taller than a tree, wider than a mountain. And sometimes its still, even though it still has a heartbeat. I used to swim in the lagoons, deep still pools of water off the coast, sheltered by rocks and shoals and covered in coral reefs. They were filled with colorful fish, teeming with life. It was where the Jade Kingfishers lived, too, and they would flit around my head, just out of reach. I would swim with them all day, diving to the cool depths, digging my feet into the sand at the bottom and looking back up through the waters to the sun that tried to light up the sea from the sky. It would look like sparkling crystals."

"I've never seen the sea," Harry told her, enchanted by her story.

"Our clan is from the sea," she said. "Our ancestor, Uzumaki Katahama made a pact with the boss of the Eastern Swirling Sea, so long as he respected the waves and the life it brought, it in turn would not destroy the life he built on its surface. So he built Uzushio in the Land of Whirlpools, right atop the rocks that rose from the sea."

"Is that where you were born?"

"Yes." Kushina's voice lowered in sadness.

"What happened to it?"

"Fire and tsunami. It sunk into the sea."

His cousin did not explain the details, and Harry could hear the depth of her own memory in the words that she spoke, as if she had seen her village's ending. He wondered how old she had been, and he regretted that he would never be able to see the brightly colored roofs that rose out of the waters from his picture.

He fell into a dozing sleep in her arms, half in her lap even as they both sprawled atop his futon, until after dawn when he fell deeper into sleep. He had never felt so safe.

o-

Minato chose to put a seal on him after that, despite Harry's assurances that the two snakes in his head weren't going anywhere.

"Just in case," he said, leading Harry into a building he hadn't ever been in before.

With stark stone walls, and windowless rooms, Harry felt both confined and sheltered. ANBU roamed the halls at odd intervals, focused and unstopping. None of them greeted them and Minato didn't try to talk to any of them in turn. Harry watched them when they encountered one, never having been so close to one of the masked Shinobi before, fascinated by the different styles of masks and the uniforms they wore.

"Here we are," Minato said, and led him into an open room. Harry inspected it as the blonde shut and locked the door behind them. It was empty save for a pail and a few brushes lying beside it in the center of the room. A single bare lightbulb hung low from the ceiling.

"Strip down, Hari," Minato said, pulling his flak vest off and leaving it in a neat pile by the door. "I'll have to draw the scripts on your skin. You can leave your shorts on."

Harry did as instructed and was soon shivering as he sat cross-legged in the center of the chilly room. The light swung over his head.

Minato used the brushes to draw concentric circles of scripts that Harry couldn't read on the floor, and his finger to draw them onto Harry's back, down his arms and around one of his shoulders. It was then that Harry realized that the dark paint in the bucket wasn't paint at all, but rather blood. It smelt coppery, and was cold.

"This is a sealing technique, a fuinjutsu," Minato told him as he worked. His voice was low and even and comforting to Harry. "It is called the Fuja Hoin, and while it can completely seal low level techniques, Orochimaru's juinjutsu is not a low level. So the Fuja Hoin will rely on your own will to suppress Orochimaru's evil chakra to work fully."

Harry was both relieved and worried with the explanation.

"But since you have already sealed Orochimaru's chakra within you," Minato continued, coming around Harry to paint scripts down one side of his chest. "Perhaps the Fuja Hoin will work very well."

Minato trailed the line of seal scripts over Harry's hip, down his thigh and onto the floor where it connected with a spoke of one of the circles already painted there.

"I'm also including the mark for my Hiraishin," Minato told him, giving him a quick smile. "So I can always come to your aid if you need it."

Harry found that to be remarkably comforting. He had spent a month holed up by Orochimaru, unfound, no one knowing where he was or who took him or what had happened. If Harry had the mark of Minato's transportation technique on him at the time, the man would have been able to find him so much sooner.

"Done," Minato announced. He caught Harry's eye with both tension and encouragement written across his face.

"This will hurt, some," he said, regretful. "Are you ready?"

Harry pulled in a slow silent breath that filled his lungs and raised his shoulders. He nodded.

"Good."

Minato moved to stand behind him, and after a prolonged moment of anticipation, he began.

It did hurt, but not as badly as when Orochimaru had bitten him in the first place. Harry clenched his teeth together and endured the strange aching sensation, watching the script lines curl and retreat to the point where Minato's hands hovered over his left shoulder. They itched as they moved and a dull ache rose at the seal's center.

As the scripts disappeared from his view, and the pain faded, Harry was left exhausted and gasping. He felt like he had just run laps around the Academy complex for hours.

"Alright, Hari?"

Harry felt himself nod even as his body slid bonelessly to the stone floor in a rising tide of sleep, the snakes in his head muffled beneath a shroud of inky script lines - dark ropes that stood out against his own white chains.

o-

It took over a month for a physical sign of Orochimaru's meddling to make itself known. Minato had noticed it first, as he and Harry sat around the table. Harry was on his knees for height, head bent over the surface as he carefully copied the scripts of a flash tag. Minato had caught sight of his carefully copied Academy notes one night, and had promptly pushed a paper tag and a stack of blank papers in front of him.

"This is the scripts for a flash seal," the blonde told him, pointing out the half circle design with radiating lightning bolt patterns, "A flash tag. It's a basic seal technique and most Shinobi are able to draw these out on their own, with a little patience." Then the blonde gave him a bamboo brush with a narrow head, and a pot of ink. "Seals use blood and chakra to work," he told Harry. "So we mix our blood in with the ink, which gives it our chakra, so long as its fresh enough. Without the blood, and without the chakra, the seals are just pretty scripts of lines."

Minato smiled at him and showed Harry how to cut his finger or palm in order to add his blood to the pot of ink. The blonde bandaged his finger, then Harry got down to making careful copies of the flash tags.

"You'll be able to use these," Minato said, watching his progress with a critical eye, "And maybe anybody closely related to you by blood, but anybody else would likely make it malfunction. It's why Shinobi draw their own seals. Using someone else's seals can be very dangerous."

Harry had given the man a mumbled, "yes sir," his attention already focused on his new task. Minato ruffled his hair and the two fell into silence as they worked. Harry had gone through four copies, one of them rejected due to a mistake, when Minato spoke again.

"Hari –"

Harry moved the brush away from the tag he was working on and raised his head, but Minato's fingers pressed it back down again. He watched the man through his fringe, puzzled. Minato was staring at the top of his head with a focused, confused gaze. The man had both hands digging through Harry's hair now, pulling at strands as if to get them out of the way. What was so interesting about his scalp? "Hari," Minato said, pulling at his hair. "Your hair is growing out a different color."

"It is?"

Minato nodded and finally let go of his hair, so Harry could raise his head. He pushed his fingers through the wild locks, pulling them forward and trying to see what the man was talking about. All he saw was the over-grown fringe of his bangs, as dark as it had always been.

"Yes," Minato said, "Blonde maybe. It's a very light color."

Harry gave up trying to see is hair and cocked his head at the man. Minato simply pointed a finger towards the kitchen and the decorative mirror that they both knew hung in the window over the sink. Harry scrambled off his chair and into the kitchen, Minato watching him over the half wall that separated the table and the kitchen proper. It took a little effort, but Harry climbed up onto the counter, balancing on the edge of the kitchen sink. The mirror was floral-shaped, separated into sections of petals. Harry pulled it towards him without knocking it off its hanging string and angled it above his forehead.

It wasn't very noticeable, the change in his hair color, but once it was pointed out to him it was very obvious and he wondered how he hadn't noticed it before. Harry pulled his bangs to lie flat, revealing the roots of his hair and the very light coloration that was growing in place of his normal black. Harry stared for a while before letting the mirror clink back to its resting place. He turned in his perch and looked back at the blonde. Minato was still at the table, sitting back against the wall, watching him.

"I don't know what it means," Minato said softly, reading the questioning, almost scared look Harry was giving him. "We'll stop by the Hospital tomorrow. Maybe someone there will have an idea."

Harry wasn't really comforted, but as he slid back to the floor and returned to the table, he decided he wasn't really bothered by the change of his hair either. He didn't feel any different, after all. He just wanted to know why.

The Hospital staff had no information to give them. His hair was simply growing a different color. As far as they could tell, there was nothing wrong with him, they took a blood sample and poked and prodded and had nothing to offer. Minato sent Harry off to the Academy with a mumble about someone named Tsunade.

o-

Harry's lessons at the Academy were augmented by the occasional lesson at home with Kushina or Minato or at times Obito or Rin , depending on who was in the village when. Each would focus on different things with him. Kushina with her chakra lessons about chaining and restraint and love and occasional lessons in cooking or gardening or trips to ramen stands. She also taught him how to swim, telling him about the sea she learned in, and all the fish that she had caught in the waters to take home in tanks and line her room with. Then Rin, who would help him decipher his notes from the lectures, and Obito who loved to grapple in the back garden or show him hidden ways through the village to secret spots, telling him loud stories and silly jokes all the way. Minato, though, would sit with him in the living room on the rare occasions they were home together alone and Harry would learn about the fancy scripts the blonde had drawn on the floor and his skin that helped to seal away the snakes in his head.

It was his strong interest in sealing that focused his attempts to learn the written language he so struggled with. His sudden focus got him through his first set of exams, barely, and he finished with some of the lowest scores of his classmates. Choug told him not to worry about it too much. When he asked Harry some of the questions verbally, Harry was able to give an answer. He just struggled with the kanji.

"It's the exams in your second and third year that matter more," Chouga told him. "For now, the exams just help us to move advanced students through the curriculum faster. Just do your best, Uzumaki-kun, you are learning fast."

Harry, since his kidnapping by Orochimaru, was never alone at home and always had someone to walk him home from the Academy. Harry relished the company and attention, but their careful handling of him was slowly driving him insane. He had never had people care so much before.

In contrast, Anko's sudden appearances outside of the Academy were full of surprises, sharp edges and the occasional flash bomb and she didn't treat him like he was about to fly off the deep end or spiral into depression, or rather, she treated him as if she was looking forward to the point where he went mad.

She also started giving him weaponry. She favored small projectile objects that could be sharpened to fine edges and points and hidden away behind strips of cloth, into pockets or stuck in her hair. She had been ecstatic when she discovered he kept the senbon from Kushina on him at all times - ever since Orochimaru.

"See, you can hide them all and carry lots of them in all different places," she said, wrapping his wrists in white bandages. It was after lessons had ended and Harry was sitting in the swing tucked into the corner of the complex yard while Anko stood next to him, rolls of white linen and shuriken and kunai scattered at her feet. "Your hair is too short to tuck up with senbon," she trailed off, eyeing his shaggy hair. "Did you know your hair has two colors?"

Harry nodded. He did know. It was very obvious now. A two fingers width of black at the ends, and the same of blonde near his scalp – a blonde so light it looked nearly white next to his black. Harry hadn't let Kushina cut it yet, wanting to keep a hold of his original hair color for as long as he could. He was almost beginning to like the duo-tone look, except people always gave him strange glances, their eyes lingering on his head. Like Anko, who was almost cross-eyed as she stared at his hair.

Finally she shrugged and continued right where she had left off at, "but you can slide them under your sleeves here."

She demonstrated by slipping a few of his senbon needles between the folds of the linen wrapped around his forearms. They sat snuggly next to his skin, hidden under the wrappings.

"Try slipping them out and hitting the tree," she told him, pointing to a single paper target that had been slapped onto the tree trunk nearby.

Harry did so, standing and slipping the skinny needle from the linen around his wrists and flicking it at the target. The motions were a little jerky and not as smooth as he had seen Anko do, but the needle struck the edge of the target regardless.

"Sloppy," Anko informed bluntly.

Harry scowled and repeated the motion, this time focusing on combining the actions of slipping the senbon from the bandages and throwing into one movement. He missed the target by a handspan, but his movements had been smooth.

"Well, you'll get it eventually I guess."

Harry frowned. "I'll practice."

"Damned right you will," Anko said forcefully, but with a wide grin.

Harry did it again with the third senbon tucked against his arm and managed to both keep a continuous action and hit the target, though not at its center.

Anko shrugged and handed him a roll of linen cloth. "You can hide things against your legs, too, kid," she said. "Dead useful, this stuff."

Harry agreed, but thought she over-focused on its use. She had both her legs and her forearms wrapped joint-to-joint with the stuff. He wondered how many senbon she had lining her shins.

o-

The backyard of Kushina's townhouse was no wider than the building but ran deeper, enclosed by a tall, wood-slatted fence that was taller than Minato but no hindrance to any of the houses's inhabitants. A tiered garden butted up to the house in order to take advantage of the full afternoon sun, and a narrow porch ran out between the garden beds from the backdoor and down to a lawn. A stretch of grass ran away from the house, decorated with a series of targets and wooden posts and dummies used for training. The back of the yard was shaded by a copse of tall fire country trees that was shared by the two houses on either side as well as the civilian day care that backed into the yard from the street over.

The yard was a popular area for the house's residents and one could often be found there - Kushina or Harry in the garden beds, Minato lounging in the trees as Kakashi or another of his students used them for target practice.

So when Harry arrived home form the Academy to find Obito attacking the wooden dummy in the yard, he was not surprised. With rice-balls in hand and a bowl of sliced apples, Harry lingered on the patio space amidst the flanking garden beds and watched the energetic teen as he finished his snack.

Obito did not use the standard Konoha style of taijutsu that Harry had been learning at the Academy. Harry picked up the basics of the goju-ryu style of unarmed combat with relative ease, but with varying degrees of success. It was sometimes an odd mixing of general techniques, incorporating hard striking attacks such as kicks and closed hand punches with softer open hand circular techniques for attacking, blocking, and controlling the opponent, including locks, grappling, takedowns and throws. It had two basic forms, hard and soft, which were loosely designed to work both separately or together, and to which most students found affinity with one or the other. Harry had an easier time of the soft form where he could use his speed and evasion to evade blows and strike at sensitive areas rather than the hard style, that relied on physical strength and power.

Obito clearly used elements of the goju-ryu, but Harry did not recognize most of his forms and katas. The boy's familiar Academy-style strikes that spun the wooden dummy around on its stand would flow into an evasive sort of style that had him moving along with the dummy's spinning arms and twisting as if turning an opponent's strikes back on them. It looked like an awkward melding and Obito's disgruntled expression did not help.

Obito stopped shortly after Harry had finished the last of his slices of apple and the older boy ambled over to the patio. Obito plopped down next to Harry with a huff, glaring mutinously at the idly spinning dummy, but giving Harry a smile of welcome regardless.

"Was that goju-ryu?" Harry asked him.

Obito shook his head at the same time as shrugging which gave an unsure sort of aura about his response, "mostly."

"What else was it?"

Obito looked rather grumpy about this line of questioning, but before Harry could change the subject, he answered.

"The Uchiha taijutsu," Obito said, still string moodily at the dummy in the yard. "Mostly. Some of it. I've had to add in some of the striking stuff I learned at the Academy though."

Harry thought abut this for a minute. "Doesn't the Uchiha taijutsu have strikes?"

Obito let out a huff that could have been either amusement or derision. "Sure, but I can't get someone to teach it to me properly."

"Why not?"

The older boy huffed again. "They won't bother with me much until I can wake my Sharingan."

Harry knew what this was, abstractly. Obito talked about it enough and about how he'd gain it and be the best shinobi ever and show up his clan, too. Harry wasn't exactly positive what the Sharingan did, but he knew the word and that it was something that belonged to the Uchiha and them alone and that Obito for some reason wasn't fully Uchiha without it.

"So they won't teach you taijutsu?"

"Well yes," Obito said, though he shook his head no at the same time. "But no, oh, sort of."

The teen must have seen the confusion on Harry's face for he tried to explain.

"They'll teach me some stuff," Obito said. "I learned a lot when I was young, before the Academy and some during the Academy, like all my cousins did. But after a while they kind of stopped. I'm a Chunin! And I still haven't woken my Sharingan, so they won't bother much with me."

Harry didn't ask if the boy's dad would teach him. He knew that Obito's parents died years ago, when he was really young and could only remember sort of what his mother looked like.

Harry thought this was terribly precious. He had no idea what his mother looked like except that she had red hair.

"My clan doesn't like me much," Obito said softly, slouching on the porch next to Harry. His shoulders were curled in and he had his arms akimbo across his raised knees so his hands could hold up his head, but only barely. His chin was still nearly level with his knees.

Harry eyed him for a long minute. "My Aunt and Uncle didn't like me either."

Obito shifted from between his knees just enough to peer at Harry.

"They didn't like it when I did better in school than Dudley so they wouldn't let me do my homework anymore."

Harry didn't usually talk about the Dursleys. Mostly because he just didn't have anything to say about them and he was pretty sure that Kushina wouldn't like anything he did say about them anyways. Harry wasn't really ashamed, or embarrassed, but he understood enough to know that the Dursleys weren't nice and weren't supposed to make him sleep in a cupboard or call him Freak instead of Harry.

"They sent you here, though, right?" Obito asked, still peering at him from between his knees.

Harry nodded.

Obito sat up and gave him a wide, happy grin. "Then they did something right!"

Harry supposed that was true.

"C'mon!" Obito said, bounding up to his feet and dragging Harry with him. "Let's spar or something."

Harry let the teen drag him into the open yard, happy to see the other's smile again.

o-

By the time his hair reached below his ears Kushina cornered him in the kitchen, fingering a kunai and standing next to a wooden chair. Harry knew what she wanted to do and glanced over his shoulder towards the door on the far side of the living room.

"Oh no you don't," she said, grabbing the back of his jacket in a firm grip. "Your hair is a disaster!"

"But –"

"No buts!" She said, grinning as she plopped him into the chair in the middle of the kitchen. She stood in front of him and waved the kunai's sharp end at his nose. "And don't make me tie you up!"

"She will," Minato said from his seat at the table, grinning at them. "She's done it to both me and Obito, though somehow Kakashi has managed to evade her so far." He trailed off, looking thoughtful and Harry scowled at him, unamused by his lack of aid.

"His needs a trim, too," Kushina said, eyeing the blonde.

Harry shifted in his seat and the redhead shot her attention back to him, making him freeze in place.

"Sit still," she commanded, raising her kunai and circling him. "I know what I'm doing."

Minato made a strangled sort of coughing noise, which earned him the kunai in Kushina's hand sailing at his head. He only tilted his head out of the way, grinning and holding his hands up in surrender.

Harry made to break for it out the back door but didn't get further than half-standing from the chair before her hand pushed him back into it.

"Don't worry, Hisui," she said, a little too sweetly for comfort. "I've got another one."

Kushina slipped a second kunai from her leg pouch, pulled at his hair, and a sudden sound of a blade slicing through strands caught his attention. Locks of dark hair edged in light blonde dropped into his lap. He stared at it a bit mournfully. She was cutting the dark color completely off. He'd be completely white-haired when she was done with him.

"I suppose we could leave some length on the top," Kushina speculated.

Harry shifted as she pulled at his hair and he was showered with loose strands.

"Sit still, Hisui!" she admonished, "I don't want to cut you."

Harry glowered and did as he was told, ignoring Minato's faint chuckling from the table.

Kushina didn't leave him with much. Clearly her thoughts of a decent haircut included very little hair left on the head. Harry stared mournfully into the mirror she held up to him. He pushed his fingers through the short hair left, eyeing the very light strands a bit warily. He looked so different without the dark hair he was used to. What was left was short, spiky blonde – blonde so light as to be called white. He looked like a relation of Kakashi's.

"A little short don't you think, Kushina?" Minato asked, eyeing Harry's knew haircut.

"It's handsome," she defended.

Minato's gaze moved from Harry to her. "You cut it unevenly too many times, didn't you?"

Kushina sniffed and glared at him, which told both the males that, yes, she had cut it unevenly and the short length was due to her correcting the mistake.

"It's handsome," she said, close to growling it at him.

Minato just hunched his shoulders and told Harry, "It'll grow," which got Kushina snarling at him. Harry took the opportunity and edged out of the chair away from her. He was just about to slip out the door when Kakashi slipped in through it. The two boys froze and stared at each other – Kakashi at his hair.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

Harry merely pointed over his shoulder to Kushina. Kakashi nodded and gave him a look that told him he should have been able to avoid it. Harry, unimpressed with the older boy's unimpressed look, stuck his tongue out at him and pushed past him out the door to the yard.

"Oh good! Kakashi!" Kushina's voice followed after him. "You're next."

Harry wished someone had taught him how to perform the Body Flicker. Kakashi's quick escape from Kushina's hair-cutting-kunai only served to remind him of his failure to do the same. Kakashi paused in his escape to perch on the fence circling the yard and waved at Harry before disappearing in a swirl of leaves and smoke. Harry stared after him blithely, fingering the short strands of his white hair.

o-

Harry woke the next morning a little groggy, so it took him a while to notice that Kakashi, who had beaten him downstairs, was staring at him. Harry went through the motions of collecting a handful of rice balls and a glass of milk from the fridge before sliding into the seat across from him. Kakashi continued to stare.

Harry stared back and finally spoke, "What?"

"Your hair."

Harry blinked, confused, and ran his hand over his head, digging his fingers through his shaggy, wild locks of hair. He paused, and yanked on his bangs, pulling them in front of his eyes.

His hair had grown over night, right back to a length that brushed the tops of his ears. The white-blonde strands were long enough for him to see them over his nose. He shrugged and turned his attention onto his breakfast. He ignored Kakashi's continued staring.

The other residents of the house found the overnight growth of his hair to be a little strange, but Harry merely shrugged it away. It had happened before, after all, when Aunt Petunia had decided he needed a haircut before Primary. She had sat him down much the same as Kushina did and proceeded to hack at his hair with her sewing sheers. She had left him with little more than uneven fuzz and he was so mortified he had plotted half the night about ways to convince her to not send him off to school like that. He had eventually fallen asleep and woke the next morning, tired and grim, Aunt Petunia rapping on the closet door and already yelling at him. She had yelled a lot louder when she caught sight of him, his hair grown back to exactly the way it was before she had cut it. She had never tried to cut it again.

"It's an interesting manifestation of chakra," Minato commented, studying his head with no little amount of curiosity. Harry dodged the man's groping hand, shifting he and his breakfast out of the blonde's immediate reach. Minato just chuckled and wandered into the kitchen looking for his own breakfast.

"It's strange," Kakashi said, still staring.

"Not so much," the blonde countered. "Unusual, but not completely strange."

Harry spared the two half glances, more concerned about filing his stomach than about the overnight growth of his hair.

"His hair grew overnight," Kakashi insisted with a narrow-eyed look at Harry, which the younger blithely ignored.

"Haven't you ever used your chakra without express knowledge of doing so, Kashi-kun?" Minato asked.

Harry eyed the white-haired youth with a mixing of curiosity and amusement at the nickname. The teen in question gave his sensei a flat, unimpressed look over his mask and didn't respond.

Kakashi's silence didn't deter Minato in the least. "I seem to remember you charging your strikes once or twice when your frustration got the better of you when you were still at the Academy."

Kakashi sniffed with disdain and bent his head over his breakfast with an air of stubborn disregard. This made Minato chuckle again and Harry looked between the two, curious about how to charge one's strikes with chakra.

The teen kept his silence and Minato stopped teasing him as the three finished their breakfast.

Harry stopped by the bathroom before leaving for the Academy that morning and inspected his hair. It was wild and standing on end as it had always done. It was still white, though, but he was almost used to the idea. He pushed at his bangs, revealing the scarring above his right eye, a criss-cross of old and older wounds that left silvery traces behind. The scars meshed with each other, losing their definitions and it was barely discernable anymore which was the old scar from the car crash of his infancy and which was from Orochimaru's infected nail-scratches. Harry frowned and pushed his bangs down over the marks, hiding them behind a curtain of white-blonde.

It didn't look bad on him, he thought, and his eyes looked very bright and colorful in contrast.

o-

Time passed and before Harry new it, he was turning seven and he had been in Konoha for almost a whole year. Kushina made an occasion out of it. She invited over almost everyone Harry knew, from Minato and his team to Anko-sensei and Chouga-sensei and some of his classmates and Kushina's friend Mikoto-san and her young son Itachi, and the old man who ran the ramen bar and his baby daughter Ayami, and one of Minato's friends that Harry had met a couple times who had the same blonde hair but was taller and his hair was in a ponytail that went all the way down to his waist. Their narrow townhouse, which sometimes seemed very large with only a few people in it, was small with the crowd.

Harry, who had never before had a birthday party and had never been invited to one, was utterly overwhelmed.

Armed with a new, green hooded jacket from Minato and his team – which Obito had presented with a wide grin and a bright "Happy birthday Hari!" that nearly out-shown his teammates' smiles in its brilliance. Harry had it zipped up to his chin and felt a little less exposed with everybody's attentions. It sported the whirlpool crest on its arms in black and white, but instead of the same design on the back, it had a pattern after the Kingfisher stitched there, the jade threads blending in with the cloth but showing in sudden catches of shape when the light hit it right. It made it look like he had camouflaged wings that would twitch as he moved. Harry thought it was the most awesome thing ever.

"Hari?" Kabe asked, picking up the name Obito had shouted. "Is that for all those senbon you carry around all the time?"

"Or because he's skinny as a needle?" poked Lin.

"Seven?" Kabe asked, grinning widely as he shouldered his way past the smaller Lin to get to Harry's side. Lin scowled at him, but Kabe only patted the girl roughly on the shoulder.

"We're the same age," Kabe informed him, "my birthday is next month."

Harry was probably half Kabe's girth and barely came to the other boy's shoulder. That they were the same age only served to annoy him. He was probably one of the smallest of his classmates, one or two of whom were up to two years younger than him.

Kabe ignored his irritated look and handed him a brace of shuriken with a bright green ribbon tied into a complex double dragon knot. They had been learning knotwork in their afternoon lessons, and Kabe had taken to the skill quite well. Harry turned the brace over and slid one of the small weapons from the casing. They were five-point shuriken, newly sharpened and iron-shiny. They were practice weapons, with their reflective surface, but Harry was quite happy with them. He had only used the basic four-point shuriken handed to them at the Academy, and the new, smaller shape interested him greatly.

"Thank you," Harry said, sliding the weapon back with its brothers.

Kabe grinned again, splitting his face in half.

"Here, you'll need this kid," Anko said, suddenly behind him. Lin, who had been standing next to Harry twitched at her unexpected appearance. Anko was no longer at the Academy, having been drafted back into missions months ago, but neither was Aoba-sensei. However, none of the students forgot about the teenaged Chunin. She tended to leave quite the impression and had a habit of dropping in on a few of them unexpectedly. Harry seemed to be her favorite target, and he'd gotten used to her jumping out at him when he least expected it but not all the others had gained the same immunity as him.

He no longer jumped when she did so, which always made her grin maniacally at him.

She gave Lin a condescending pat on the head, which caused her roped hair to fall into her face. Lin slid away from her, scowling darkly and grumbling under her breath. Harry, whose ears were better than most of his classmates' caught a few of her words, insults all.

Anko pushed something into his chest and Harry scrambled to catch it. It was a leg pouch, like the one he already wore on his right leg that was, along with his hip bag, overflowing with weapons and tools. Most of them were from Anko, who in tandem with the generous Kushina, had gotten him well used to accepting small gifts over the past months.

Harry grinned and with only minimal fuss, fastened it around his left leg and slid his new brace of fancy shuriken into it. Anko left him with a ringing knock of her knuckles on his head, which Harry largely ignored.

Despite his initial discomfort, Harry settled down and enjoyed the party in his honor.

Kushina, Mikoto and Rin had prepared a veritable feast for the lot of them, and Harry sat at the head of the table set up in the back yard – a seat of honor he had never taken before – and suffered through everyone's questions and well wishes, even while secretly quite happy with it all.

It was after the meal, and the impromptu duel between Anko and Obito that had to be broken up by an irate Kushina, that she pulled Harry into the house alone. Harry followed her silently all the way up to the second floor and the open office space that took up half of it in conjunction with her bedroom.

"I have something for you Hisui," she said, smiling as she crossed to a low-slung chest stacked over with extra blankets. She pushed the blankets to the floor and cracked the box open with a sound of protest. Harry didn't catch all that was within it, but she pulled out a narrow, long box and sat it on the floor. With a come-hither motion, Harry dropped to his knees across from her, the plain wooden box sitting between them.

"I have told you stories of my Clan's home and of its sea," she started, her hands caressing the box even as she smiled at him. "It was once a vast and numerous Clan, with a powerful reputation. I remember some of them, from before the destruction of the village. They were good, proud people. Skilled Shinobi and craftsmen."

Harry nodded.

She laid her hand on the lid of the box. "This is for you, Hisui."

Kushina opened the lid of the box, and Harry was to the contents within it. Nestled amongst a red woven cloth was a full set of sealing tools: half full jars of black ink - ready for chakra-laced blood to be added - a set of carved bamboo brushes in a range of sizes next to a ribboned stack of parchment and linen slips. Complementing the set were brush rests, ink plates, a stick of red wax, a flint firestarter and a bronze wax seal. Harry pulled the seal out of the box, inspecting the carved jade handle in the shape of some sort of long-legged water bird and inspected the inlay. It was an encircled bird in flight with tapered wings. It looked like a kingfisher.

"The Uzumaki Clan was also renowned and feared for their unrivaled skill in fuinjutsu," Kushina said softly, something darkening her tone. "Their seals outshown all others."

Harry ran his fingers lightly across the soft bristles of the largest brush. It was easily twice the circumference of his thumb.

"I will teach you this Art," Kushina told him. "What I know of it."

Harry replaced the jade wax seal, and hovered his hands over the ink pots, hardly able to wait to learn, barely able to touch the beautiful sealing kit and happier than he had ever been in his life.\

o-

It was a rare evening after lessons, that Harry was lingering just inside the complex gates alone, twirling a kunai around his finger in absent boredom, that Kushina's friend Mikoto showed up to escort him home. Itachi was with her, and both the four-year-old and Mikoto looked grave.

Fear and worry bubbled up in his stomach.

Mikoto motioned for him to follow, and without a word between the three of them, Harry trailed the two Uchiha's to his home. It seemed like a very long walk to Harry as Itachi intermittently looked back at him from his place by his mother, his eyes dark and watchful.

The house he shared with Kushina and Minato was quiet, and the blonde was not in the living room. Kushina was there, with Rin and Kakashi. The white-haired older boy was standing in the wide doorway to the kitchen, eyes closed and head bowed. His forehead protector was at an odd angle and covered his eye. Rin, who was usually politely cheerful at all times was silent and downcast as she huddled in a chair across the room from him. Kushina stood very near her, one hand across the girl's shoulders even as she watched Kakashi with sad, worried eyes.

Harry looked between them all and wondered where Minato was, and feared.

"Kushina-nee?" he asked, lingering in the front door, reluctant to enter the house.

Kushina spared him a small, strained smile and motioned for him to come. He hesitated for a moment but obeyed and crossed the living room into her arms. Mikoto and Itachi followed him into the house, but stayed by the door.

"How was Academy, Hisui?" Kushina asked, running her fingers through his wild white hair. Harry played along, and told her that it had been good. They were learning techniques that utilized caltrops of varying shapes and Harry had added another weapon to the pouch strapped to the back of his shorts. He had found the handful of little metal spikes particularly useful in spreading behind him as he scaled a tree by kunai. It had, in their spars that day, derailed Idate very effectively, who had recently taken to flips and handstands that launched him around the yard. Idate had been grumbling and cursing under his breath at him all afternoon, nursing the punctures in his palms.

Kushina gave him that little distracted smile again.

When she did not volunteer what had happened, Harry asked. "Where's Minato?"

"At the mission's office," Kushina said softly. "He'll be back later."

Harry looked from her to the still downcast Rin, to Kakashi who hadn't moved an inch, to the two silent Uchiha's at the door and back to Kushina again.

"Where's Obito?"

That got a much different reaction. Kushina's eyes tightened and saddened even while he heard Rin flinch in her chair and from the corner of his eye he swore Kakashi got even more still than he had already been.

And Harry knew.

He hung his head, his chin settling into the zipped collar of his coat and masking his face up to his nose. He didn't bother to ask if Obito was at the hospital. If he was, they'd all be there, Harry knew. Like a couple months ago when the older boy spent three days wrapped up in bandages and trying to sneak out to no avail whatsoever. Harry had spent his evenings with him and Rin, sneaking him dango and folding hundreds of little paper cranes that Rin had taught him how to make. They had nearly filled that room with the colorful paper birds, much to Obito's ire and secret amusement.

"Hisui," Kushina started, her voice laced with sadness, which did nothing but confirm what Harry already knew. She trailed off, clearly unsure how to say it.

"The mission went bad," Harry said, soft and quiet. "Didn't it?"

"They completed the mission," Kushina said, "But –"

Harry's decisive nod told her that she didn't have to try and explain. Harry knew well enough that the details were probably classified, and he didn't want to hear it anyways.

"Obito-kun saved us from a trap set by the Iwa," Rin said. "He was –"

"Very brave," Kakashi finished for her.

Harry looked over to the white-haired youth. Despite having often enough shared a room with the boy, Harry didn't know him very well. Kakashi was often off somewhere training or on missions, and rarely spared Harry much time or words. He seemed very different to Obito, whom Harry had found himself a bit attached to over the past year. Kakashi spoke less than Harry did, and the few times that he was in the house at the same time as Obito, he would frown at his teammate as the Uchiha gave time and tips to Harry in the yard.

Harry had always gotten the impression that Kakashi didn't think very much of him, or really, of anybody except maybe Minato.

Kakashi pushed himself away from the wall and took a few steps towards them. He was eyeing Harry as if he hadn't really seen him before, his look almost sad and rather intense. Harry bore the scrutiny, taking in the newly healed wound that scratched down the upper portion of the boy's cheek from his covered eye. It almost matched the light scarring that Harry had from Orochimaru's nails that hadn't yet faded entirely - and likely wouldn't ever.

Kakashi pushed his forehead protector up over his brow, revealing the full extent of the wound and the three-pronged tomoe swirling slowing around his iris.

Harry, who had been suffering occasional nightmares of yellow and red snake eyes for a year in alternating patterns of terror and mania – both of which wanted to swallow him whole – caught one glimpse of Kakashi's new red eye and recoiled, violently.

His reaction was so sudden that Kushina hadn't been able to keep hold of him and Harry spun out of her grasp and back against the wall of the living room in a swift agitated movement. His brain caught up with his reflexes seconds later and he panted as he stared at Kakashi in a mixed sense of shock and apology.

Kakashi, for his part, looked stricken.

Harry had seen an Uchiha Sharingan before, in a passing Konoha Policeman, and had flinched at its coloration. He had also seen Mikoto use it once, and his reaction had been far more controlled the second time. He didn't know Obito had one as well, having suffered the boy's griping about the lack of that particular family talent quite a few times. Seeing the Uchiha Sharingan in Kakashi's eye, however, had surprised him greatly.

He knew, somehow, that it was Obito's. Obito who had always yearned for it just so that his clan would accept him and no longer disregard him because he didn't have it yet.

"Sorry," Harry whispered, watching Kakashi's sad face. The other boy seemed to accept it and moved forward slowly, not covering the eye, and simply watching Harry for any adverse reactions. Harry didn't move away, but he didn't move towards him either, and when Kakashi reached out to brush his fingers against Harry's shoulder they both relaxed.

Harry had not startled because of Kakashi, but because of his dreams, and the white-haired youth seemed to know that. Kakashi had been present in their room on more than one occasion that Harry woke gasping and sweaty from a nightmare with no source. Harry in turn, had witnessed a few nightmares of Kakashi's. Neither had spoken of those nights to each other. Both used the simple, short touch of fingers to shoulder to let the other know of their presence, their understanding, letting the other know that they were awake now, offering comfort that was enough to return to sleep in the dark hours of the morning.

"Sorry," Harry said again. Kakashi shook his head slightly in both acceptance and denial that Harry need apologize. He reached up, and pushed his forehead protector back down over his eye. Harry didn't realize he had started crying until then. Wet tracks of water trailed down his cheeks.

The sight of the red Sharingan in Kakashi's face hit home hard and deep that his first friend was gone.

The war had taken one of his precious people.

o-

Harry stood between Kushina and Anko at the ceremony of remembrance and treaty. Minato stood a few rows further forward, just behind his two Genin. It was a Konoha event, and despite it being about the treaty, no Iwa Shinobi stood in attendance. The end of the war had come suddenly, but even with its cessation the tension in the village did not wane. Regardless, the ceremony was held and the village remembered all those who had given their lives to protect it.

Harry listened to the Hokage speak of sacrifice, of the Will of Fire, of the village which was more its people than the buildings, which made it precious, and the youth, which gave them all a future.

And he remembered Obito. Loud and direct, with energy to spare at all times. The older boy had been Harry's friend, and his first one ever, besides perhaps Fuyu who lived in Tokyo and had let Harry sleep on a futon on her floor and taught him Japanese and bowing. But Obito had called Harry friend, and had taken him on grand tours of the village filled with adventure and strange foods. He had accepted Harry without question or thought and Harry was going to miss him desperately.

But the war that had taken all his precious people away so often for unknown missions, and caused worry beyond anything Harry had ever felt before, was over.

It was a bittersweet day.

The afternoon was spent at home, with Rin and Kakashi and Anko joining them. While Harry taught the girls how to play go-fish with a deck of handmade cards, Kakashi sat silently in a corner with a pile of kunai to sharpen and dull with pitch. Harry sat at an angle so he could see everyone, and watched Minato and Kushina sit next to each other on the sofa, his arm draped around her shoulders as she braided long lengths of thin red string into thick cords of rope. The worry that had always lined Minato's face had not faded, but only seemed to have deepened. The blonde watched Kushina's deft fingers in contemplation, occasionally shifting the finished cords off her lap to pile at their feet.

Harry had heard the rumors. That Minato had single-handedly took out a troop of Iwa Shinobi on a field in seconds. A feat that had so shaken Iwa that it had ended the war. Harry was smart enough to realize that the blonde was a target because of that, and war over or no, any Iwa would try to kill him if they could. Harry was simultaneously awed and curious.

If Minato was so fast, why was he so worried?

o-

It was only a month after the war's official end that Namikaze Minato was made Hokage and he married Kushina in secret.

o-

**Author's Note:** I know that none of Minato's students are Genin anymore. Harry knows this, too, but they were, once.


	4. The Man with the Mask

**EDITED:** April 2014. Mostly grammatical edits.

**Author's Note: **Harry will go to Hogwarts. I won't tell you if he goes alone or not or when. Harry's hair color change is not a frivolous choice; there is a reason. Harry's presence will change things, subtly at first. Strange, how some people want the story to progress faster, and some want it to go slower. The only thing I'll say about a love interest is this: she'll have red hair.

**Chapter Disclaimer:** The story that Jiraiya tells at the wedding ceremony is a scene out of The Girl From Whirlpool, by SilverShine, which is utterly delightful to read, and I wish I could write Minato as well as her.

**Author's Second Note:** Duck!

o- **The Man with the Mask** -o

By: Renatus

It was only a month after the war's official end that Namikaze Minato was made Hokage and he married Kushina in secret.

The morning began with the couple and a few of their closest friends. Harry, Rin and Kakashi stood together, and nearby was Mikoto, sans son, and Minato's friend, Inoichi. Also present at the small shrine hidden in the woods was the Hokage and a man Harry had never met before. Minato introduced him as his sensei, one of the Sannin, Jiraiya, whose hair was as light a color as Harry's now was.

He towered over Harry, who had to crane his neck almost all the way back to see his face and the wide, happy grin that stretched across it. Jiraiya gave him a booming hello and clapped his hand on his head. It dwarfed him and nearly sent him to the ground. Harry naturally settled into a stable but flexible stance that had been drilled into him at the Academy and withstood the sudden weight with only minimal fuss and a frown that accented his glare at the man.

"He's got your feisty eyes, hey, Bloody Habanero?" Jiraiya crowed.

Kushina huffed, glared and stalked over to the large man and with a wide splay of her red hair, swung her arm up and across the back of his head.

"I told you not to call me that!" she scolded. Jiraiya cradled his head in a hunched crouch and sulked.

"Geez, you're not teaching the kid how to hit like that, too are you?"

Kushina's glare turned into a gloating grin and the white-haired man at her feet groaned.

"We really don't need two crazy Uzumaki terrors running amok," he grumbled, low enough that probably only Harry, whose head was at the level of the man's mouth, heard him. "One's scary enough." Kushina just looked at him with both a glower and a grin in one.

"Jiraiya will live through you both," Minato commented, "He survived me in my Genin days."

"Physically," Jiraiya said, "Drove me into early insanity, he did."

Kushina gave a short laugh and moved to loop her arm with Minato's, whose smile was as sunny as his hair.

Jiraiya peeked out from under his arms and gave Harry a grin. "Made for each other, those two are. Probably the only ones able to withstand the craziness of each other."

The ceremony was short and Harry thought it was beautiful. A brace of towering fire country trees and a red torii framed the couple. The cords of brilliant red strings that Kushina had spent so long braiding hung from the entwining canopy of branches, dangling bells and prayer scripts and little mirrors that reflected the light filtering in through the leaves. Minato and Kushina had exchanged their usual rounds of clothes for the historical dress of kimonos and hakama. Kushina's was white and a green that matched her eye, while Minato wore a slick dark green hakama and a white jacket with red blossoms that were the same shades as his wife's hair.

Harry, to his extreme pleasure, stood in the place of family at Kushina's side, while Kakashi stood opposite him for Minato. For the occasion, both boys had also donned matching kimonos of a rich emerald color. Harry had never felt so dressed up, or a part of something so special. He fingered the yellow-gold stitching on his kimono's sleeves, shaped into a stylized flock of birds that trailed up his arm and across his back to his feet. Likewise, Kakashi's bore golden threads of wheat and winds. The two looked much like brothers with their matching clothes and hair.

The Third Hokage stood in place before them, and offered the couple a bright and committed look of a future together. He offered the two bamboo cups of sake, which they exchanged and drank in tandem. The new married couple radiated a happiness and love that Harry thought was near-tangible. Minato smiled often, almost constantly through the ceremony, his eyes sparkling and avid on his new wife. Kushina, laughed brightly and smiled more.

The intimate celebration in the woods was a large contrast to the formal procedure that had named Minato as the Fourth Hokage a week before. It had been more solemn and probably the entire village's population had been in attendance, dressed in their best as they gave their attention to the passing of the mantle of Kage. Harry hadn't seen too much of it, having been regulated to standing further back, behind the ranks of active Shinobi with the rest of the Academy students. That night, however, he had ran his hands over the stitching that stretched down the back of Minato's new coat as they spoke of the sealing arts in the quiet of their living room, and Kushina painted prayers on thin strips of linen paper for her upcoming union.

Mikoto and Rin spread out blankets and a small feast, and they picnicked under the trees and torii, sharing in the joy of the occasion. Harry sat between Minato and Jiraiya, who had taken it upon himself to tell as many embarrassing stories about the new couple as he could. The Sannin was aided in this by Mikoto and Inoichi even as Kakashi noticeably kept himself out of Jiraiya's direct line of sight.

"Back a few years ago during that little spat with Kumo," the Sannin was saying. He had a bottle of sake that was twice as large as the three on the blanket being shared by the others and was waving it around widely.

"Spat!" Inoichi exclaimed, "That spat was a war that lasted three years and took countless Shinobi sacrifices!"

Jiraiya squinted at him and twiddled his fingers. "Yes that one." The then waved his arm over Harry's head and swatted Minato's. "This little brat was off in those mountains as head of some ickle little outpost, whatsitcalled, and one day decided to go and get himself captured by the Kumo."

"A disguised it as a meeting about a track of recent disappearances throughout a few of the villages," Minato said, rubbing his head where Jiraiya had caught him.

"A, A, psst," Jiraiya said. He elbowed Harry a little harder than he was really comfortable with. "Minato tangled with that one a few times. Now don't go interrupting my story, I was just getting started!"

"Yeah, hush Minato," Inoichi said. "I like this story."

Minato let out a long sigh. "By all means, sensei."

"So smart little Yellow Flash here," Jiraiya continued self-importantly and with a jerky thumb in Minato's direction over Harry's head. "Goes and lets Kumo's A tie him up and haul him off into some hidden mountain base on a summit where none of the rest of us could breathe. That stupid base you were outposted in was bad enough, I remember that one. Felt like I had a bear on my chest."

"What happened?" Harry asked, watching the animated guy with some amusement and wariness of his long heavy arms.

"I'll tell you," Jiraiya said happily, throwing an arm around Harry. "The entire outpost is in an uproar! No one knows where he's got carried off to, and the Kumo sent a crappy ransom letter a Genin wouldn't have agreed to and we're stretched thin so all Minato gets to go looking for him is his little troupe in the mountains and a single team of rookie ANBU."

"They needn't have bothered," Minato commented. Jiraiya ignored him.

"So they're all meeting and discussing their elaborate plans in their little tents. Even dragged me in from across the country to save the day, of course."

Kushina snorted and Minato rolled his eyes.

"A week later, in the middle of their big planning session to track down some tiny little base up at the summit, who comes flashing in? Minato!" Jiraiya waved his arm at the blonde's head again, but Minato ducked under it this time. His sensei frowned but continued his story anyways. "Landed in his Second's lap, he did. Scared her into an early grave, or at least into a fit of coughing. Did she ever get over that?" he suddenly asked Minato.

"Gekko? No. She was always a bit sickly."

Jiraiya gave a gruff puff of air through his teeth in either disappointment or apathy, Harry couldn't tell. "He wanders about the tent for all three minutes, announcing to all and sundry that he had had a plan working all week long and that, no he didn't need their help, thank you very much."

"It wasn't quite like –"

"Stuffed almost an entire plate of biscuits in his mouth, too!" Jiraiya said right over Minato's protest. "And then, he tells us all to just sit tight and disappears again!"

"Where'd he go?" Harry asked, rather entranced by the story.

Jiraiya waved his hand in disinterest. "Back to that summit base to clear it out and find any intel left around there. Did it all on his own too, safe and sound, the brat."

Harry glanced between the large man and his blonde student once or twice.

"I still want to bury that A in the ground up to his nose," Kushina said, agitated. She punched one fist into her palm. "He ruined our first date!"

Minato looked a little sheepish, even as the red-head turned her glare on him, as if it was his fault he got kidnapped and tied up for a week.

Jiraiya seemed to know exactly what Harry was thinking, for he leaned down close to him and in a loud whisper told him that Minato had every opportunity to not only escape whenever he wanted, but he could've probably avoided capture altogether. The man had let A capture him.

Kushina's annoyed look turned into something like renewed self-righteous anger, her entire attention focused on her new husband. Minato, for his part, hunched his shoulders and scratched at his hair while simultaneously shooting his teacher exasperated glances.

"Nothing like a good lovers spat to start them off." Jiraiya said, his voice quiet enough that only Harry heard him. He gave him a conspiratorial wink and nod. "It's good for them."

Harry couldn't stop grinning throughout the entirety of the morning.

o-

Harry had first noticed the ANBU presence trailing him when a skinny guy with a bird mask made the mistake of making noise a little too close by. Harry had heard his feet scrape next to the wall in the alley, and it didn't take much for him to spot the white mask reflecting the morning sun before disappearing.

Harry had been used enough to Minato's sudden flashes in and out of the house since his inception into the Hokage's office. While Kushina twitched and either slapped at him or scolded him for not using the door, Harry had taken to trying to puzzle out how the blonde did it. Without success. Regardless, the ANBU's sudden disappearance from Harry's sight didn't even phase him and he turned and continued on his way as if he hadn't even seen him. For a moment, Harry wondered if he had.

He had nearly forgotten about the event until he saw the same bird masked man badly hidden in a tree while he swam in the pond with his friends. Kabe, Idate and Lin didn't seem to notice their watcher, but Harry had caught the tell-tale sound of flipping pages that wasn't quite masked by the rustling of the leaves. Harry was well familiar with the sound. Kakashi had taken to flipping pages under his quilt during the nights he was home and hadn't dragged himself in from a mission half asleep. Harry never caught sight of whatever book the older boy was so interested in, but he knew the sound regardless. Harry caught sight of a figure in a tree, white mask half hidden by the book he was flipping through. The man had short dark hair and besides his somewhat skinny frame and obvious youth, it was the only distinguishing feature about him.

The third time he caught sight of the ANBU, Harry asked Minato about it.

The new Hokage looked faintly startled, then annoyed before ruffling Harry's hair and telling him he had good eyes. Harry denied it, saying each time he had heard the man before spotting him, and he hadn't even seen the ANBU the third time, only heard the flipping of pages over a roof's ledge that he had heard at the pond. He knew it hadn't been Kakashi. The white-haired boy had taken a delivery mission to the country's border that morning as Harry started his classes.

Minato had chuckled. "He's just there to keep an eye out for you," he said. "To protect you. It's not a secret you live with me, and there's a lot of people who don't like me much."

"You're afraid someone will hurt me to hurt you?" Harry knew this tactic. They had covered it in the Academy Tactics class only recently.

"Yes, exactly," Minato said. "Don't worry about Duck too much, ok?"

Harry pondered this for a moment before asking, "Does Duck follow around Kushina too? Cause she's closer to you and I don't think Duck is good enough to keep an eye on her properly. He reads too much to keep up with her moving around all the time."

Minato's smile was a rather brilliant one at his concern for her. "No, Duck is only assigned to watch over you sometimes. I have Owl watching Kushina for me."

Harry nodded, trusting the man to find a suitable protector for his cousin. Owl sounded like a more watchful and smarter name than Duck anyways.

o-

The new batch of Academy students brought Uchiha Itachi.

Each of the three sessions of the Academy schedule had the potential to bring new students to their classes. Some of them took entrance exams to see if they knew enough to skip some of the courses. Harry had not taken these, though both Idate and Kabe had.

Harry, having missed part of a session due to Orochimaru, and struggled for so long with the language was required to repeat alot of the lecture courses his classmates had already passed. At first embarrassed, angry and fearful that Kushina would reject him because of his near-failed written tests, he had stood by Chouga-sensei with downcast eyes while his teacher explained Harry's abysmal scores.

Kushina had simply hugged him, ruffled his hair, and told him she had failed her first test and a few of her last ones, too, and to not let know-it-alls like Minato or that Aburame Shida (who had been the top of Harry's classmates) get him down.

"There's more important things," Kushina said happily, "Like Ramen."

"Your classmates will grow more diverse every session," Chouga-sensei said, giving Kushina a fondly amused look. "It is quite common for children to be more skilled in different areas. Some will repeat the yard-exercises, while some won't understand tactics well, and others may fail their written history tests."

Harry felt a bit more comforted by that.

"He knows much of the material," his teacher continued, turning his attention to Kushina. "When I asked him the questions verbally, he is able to tell me many of the answers. He needs only to continue his studies in reading and writing, and I am confidant that Hisui will be able to complete the exams at the end of the session with good marks. As it is, he will repeat some of the classroom lectures, but he is up to par in the yard exercises and will stay with the same group there."

"Hear that, Hisui?" Kushina asked, digging her fingers into his hair. "You'll be top of the class next time!"

With that, Harry decided he didn't actually mind repeating some of the classroom lectures. His increased understanding of writing and reading Japanese made it all make a lot more sense to him and the few repeated lectures were easier.

He wasn't the only one repeating some of the classes. Idate chose his seat between Harry and the window, cuffing him on the ear as he did so. It left the seat next to Harry open and it was filled by the young Itachi.

Harry had always thought the boy quiet. Itachi probably spoke less than Harry did, and seemed always to be watching and weighing whatever he was seeing.

Idate thought he was unnerving, but Harry, having met the boy before, was less annoyed with the five-year-old's presence. It wasn't unusual for one so young to start at the Academy, but it wasn't common, and Itachi's innate genius revealed itself quickly. Quiet in the classroom, the other boy carried a certain presence that made his quick reflexes and skill in their spars very obvious.

Harry hadn't yet fought the other boy, but like everyone else, he saw the way Itachi dominated his opponents.

"He's kinda scary, you know?" Idate commented. Harry glanced at the taller boy at his shoulder. They were supposed to be sparing, practicing hip throws, but both of them had gotten a little distracted with Itachi's spar against Lin. The red-head was rather well known to have a good hand at unexpected throws, but Itachi hadn't fallen for it yet. Both were still on their feet and circling, and the dirt smeared across the girl's back and the leaves in her hair was evidence that she had made it to the ground once or twice already. The Uchiha's clothes, however, were still as clean as they always were.

"She's starting to get mad," Harry said.

Idate sucked in air between his teeth in a rather elaborate hissing noise. "Wooo, boy, he'll be in trouble if he manages to piss her off enough."

"Or she will be more so," Harry countered, having taken advantage of Lin's quick temper once or twice before himself. She was more likely to be vicious when mad, but she also left her legs open. Harry had gotten rather keen on leg sweeps lately, and egging the girl's temper on made it ridiculously easy for him to use them against her.

The two boys continued to watch the two circle each other, Itachi and Lin now wary enough to be watching the other carefully. Their new yard sensei, Aoi, didn't bother to reprimand them for standing around and staring. He was quite intent on the Uchiha's spar as well.

Harry saw the opening just as Itachi moved for it. The younger boy did exactly the same thing that Harry would have done. He moved in high, crouched down quick as Lin's fists moved over his head and swept his leg out in a tight, sweeping circle that caught the girl's ankles and sent her crashing to the ground hard.

Harry heard her body connect to the dirt and the surprised, pained groan that seeped from her throat.

Itachi stood a pace away from her, watching her with a nearly expressionless face.

Lin curled her lip and growled at him, but didn't retaliate.

"Well done, Itachi-kun," Aoi praised, squeezing Itachi's shoulder before offering the girl his hand. Lin ignored their sensei's offer and pushed herself to her feet alone.

"You use the same tricks that Hari does," she told the Uchiha. It wasn't a compliment. It never was when she called him Hari.

Harry couldn't tell if the younger boy sensed that or not, but Itachi glanced around the yard to settle his gaze on Harry. Harry couldn't read him any better than he ever could. The young Uchiha was just so guarded, so internalized, that his face seemed to suck all expression right out of him. But Harry thought he saw something flicker in the boy's eyes, something like a fire, like coals being stoked from cool black into glowing embers.

Harry had the rising desire to fight the other boy.

o-

Harry and Itachi's pseudo-rivalry was a remarkably passive thing. With having heard many of the lectures before, and with his slowly increasing skill in reading and writing, Harry's marks in the classroom were no longer the lowest of his peers, even as Itachi's strange semi-disinterest kept him from being at the top of their class – at least officially. There wasn't a single person in the classroom who didn't know that Itachi was smarter than his marks let on. In the end, the two boys tended to have scores that were very close to each other, just shy of the top, which gave the other students reason enough to eye the two speculatively.

Their classmates perceived more of a fight of contest between the two boys than either of them were willing to give to it. The phenomenon baffled Harry, even as he played the game of rivals with Itachi. Harry simply enjoyed the game, but he rather thought Itachi was looking for a challenge to overcome.

Harry was passing by the missions office on the complex grounds after classes to see if Minato was there – he wasn't – but he ran into Itachi as he slipped out of the gates. The younger boy was leaning against the wall in a way that Harry, who had sidled through the barely-open gate, collided squarely into him. It took them both to the ground and Harry lay winded, Itachi's knee pressing into his diaphragm even as his elbow dug into Itachi's ribs.

Itachi grunted, "off."

Harry puffed out an annoyed breath and rolled off the other boy, sitting in the dust and eyeing the young Uchiha. Itachi only returned an annoyed look of his own.

"You're boney," the boy said.

Harry snorted. "You're knobbly."

They regained their feet and both lingered. Harry was in no hurry to go home just yet, and Itachi looked as if he had nowhere to be, or that he didn't want to be where he ought to.

Preferring to avoid a house he was sure was going to be empty at this time of day, Harry offered an alternative to the boy.

"Target practice?" Harry asked.

Itachi turned from eyeing him sideways to looking at him full on. Harry slipped one of his special, five-pointed shuriken from the brace in his left leg pouch. Itachi looked at it with interest.

"I know a place," the younger boy said. With that he turned on the ball of his foot and headed away down the street. Harry blinked and followed after him. They traversed a few roads that Harry knew, and quite a few that he didn't, and it wasn't until they stopped at a square field that Harry realized that they had crossed into the Uchiha district. A board fence lined three sides, half hidden through the copse of trees that ringed the field. Decorated at even pacing down the fence was the Uchiha's crest. Scattered throughout the trees, on the fencing, on the ground, in the leaves above his head, and even a few on triangle stands in the field were dozens of little round targets.

They were essentially surrounded.

Harry nodded, more than satisfied with the practice field, and pulled the full brace of shuriken from his pouch. It was a small brace, holding only twenty of the metal stars, but it was the perfect size for practice. He slipped half of them out of the holder and laid them out on the ground at his feet. He then handed the half-full brace to Itachi.

Itachi slipped one of the stars out, inspecting it.

"Sansangogo?" Harry asked. "By twos and threes?"

"To one hundred."

Harry nodded. "You can throw first." He eyed the younger boy. "You can have one practice throw, since you've not thrown the five-point shuriken before."

Harry felt he was being very generous with his offer.

Itachi simply slid his feet into stance and sent a shuriken spinning off into the trees. It hadn't even struck a target before he had a second in hand and was in motion to throw again.

Sansangogo was a point system taught to Harry by Obito when the older boy had discovered Harry hadn't a clue what it was. He had been glad for the lesson, as it seemed all his classmates knew of it and it was common to count points that way. Two points to strike the middle ring of the target, three more if it was at dead center, negative two points if the outer ring was struck and minus three if the target was missed altogether. It could be played to any total, and with any number of participants and there were a number of creative variations.

Their game could potentially be a long one. Neither were spectacularly adept at shuriken throwing, having far more practice with kunai at the Academy. It was clear, however, that both Harry and Itachi had some skill with the projectiles, and were easily bored by basic target practices. By the time they both passed forty points they were beginning to up the ante.

"Hit it while you're in the air," Harry suggested.

Itachi did as suggested, took two quick steps and launched himself into the air, throwing across his chest to hit a target for two points. Harry imitated the motions, got lucky and scored himself three points.

Itachi's usually passive expression had settled into an almost-smile, and their game was on. They executed increasingly complex maneuvers, even going so far as to throw three or four shuriken in a round. They were both particularly fond of jumping into the air and attempting to throw as many of the little stars as possible before their feet hit the ground again. Their points rose and fell in waves, and neither really cared too much about the final outcome.

They were somewhere in the eighties, Itachi closer to ninety than Harry was, when they were found.

"Itachi-kun," the older boy called. He appeared in the field from nowhere, suddenly there with a dissipating cloud of smoke wafting around his knees from use of the Shunshin technique. "There you are."

"Shisui-san," Itachi greeted. The younger boy gestured to Harry, who was crouched at his side, having been eyeing a trail of targets for his next round. "This is Uzumaki Hari," Itachi said, startling Harry, who hadn't known that the other boy was aware of that name. All of his classmates called him Hisui, which was the name on the classroom rolls. Only Minato, his students or very occasionally, Lin, ever called him Hari.

"Uzumaki-kun," Shisui said, overly polite.

"Hari, is fine," Harry said, nodding to the older boy and rising to stand.

Shisui was probably only a few years older than Harry, taller and dressed in a modified Konoha uniform. He had the standard flak vest, but wore a navy, high-collared shirt that bore the Uchiha's crest on the back of the neck line. Harry guessed him to be at least Chunin.

"What's the game?" Shisui asked, eyeing the targets, five of which had shuriken sunk into them. Itachi held their record so far, with hitting five while in the air and scoring an impressive nine points, having executed a clever turn in the process. Harry had been working out how to stay in the air long enough to do the same. He was tolerably good at acrobatics, but it was becoming clear that the younger boy was slightly better.

"Sansangogo," Itachi answered.

Shisui looked intrigued. "Oh? Who's winning?"

Itachi shrugged even as Harry pointed at him, unsurprised by the boy's modesty.

"Can I watch?"

Itachi looked at Harry, who shrugged to show he didn't care.

"Sure," the young Uchiha said. "It's Hari's turn."

Shisui settled down near them into a cross-legged position and rested his chin on his hands, elbows on knees, looking as if he was waiting for their game to continue in utter anticipation. Harry eyed him with some consternation, reminded rather strongly of Obito's mannerisms, except Shisui wasn't as loud when he talked, and didn't talk as often.

He was beginning to think that Itachi was the odd Uchiha, all quiet and passive, next to Obito and Shisui's boldness.

"Hari-kun," Shisui said, "Did you know that you have a follower?"

Harry cocked his head to the side in question, and Shisui pointed over his shoulder with a careless motion of his thumb. Harry looked past him into the copse of trees and to the Uchiha fence. He didn't see anybody, but he had a notion of who Shisui was talking of.

"That's Duck," Harry said, even though he didn't know if Duck was actually there. The rookie ANBU had been getting better at keeping himself hidden from Harry's ears – most of the time.

Shisui hummed thoughtfully. "Hokage-sama assigned him to you?"

Harry nodded. "He's a new ANBU," Harry revealed. "He's getting better."

Shisui laughed outright at that, apparently quite amused at Harry's summation of the skinny Duck.

Deciding that Shisui's presence wasn't a distraction, Harry returned his attention to the targets and their current goal of striking six while airborne. His best theory was that he was going to have to launch himself off a tree. He wasn't going to be able to jump off the ground and have enough time to throw six shuriken with any decent accuracy. He couldn't launch himself high enough for the time needed, and he had yet to master throwing two in one hand to strike different targets.

"Can you hit the same targets in the same round?" Shisui asked, watching Harry eye one of the trees.

"No," Itachi answered.

Harry spread the six shuriken in his hands to settle between his fingers and sprinted off across the clearing. His momentum carried him six strides up the tree and before gravity could pull him back to the ground he launched backwards into the air. As soon as his foot left the bark of the tree he threw his first shuriken. It was followed closely by the rest, right hand, left, right again, one star at a time. He spun and flipped, picking out targets in quick glimpses and sending the stars at their centers and moving on before he even saw where his throws landed. It was over quickly and he landed on all fours, his last turn in the air nearly making him land on his head.

"You got six," Itachi said, "but two are negative."

"Three bull's eyes, though," Shisui commented.

Harry regarded his six targets. Three centers for nine points, one middle ring for two, and two of his shuriken had hit the outer rings of the targets, docking him four points.

"Seven points, not bad," Shisui said.

"And you hit six targets, regardless," Itachi said. "You've the record now."

Harry nodded, proud of himself. "You'll score points though, on all six," he told Itachi, which was probably true. Itachi's accuracy was rather impressive, even if the younger boy had yet to be able to throw six shuriken accurately yet. But now that Harry had opened up the use of the trees for springboards…

"You two are going to be a little scary when you master tree climbing with chakra," Shisui commented.

"Is that like water walking?" Harry asked.

The older boy gave him a surprised look. "You know it?"

Harry shook his head. He couldn't walk on the water like he had seen Lin do, but not for lack of trying.

"It takes a lot of concentration," Shisui said, "Both tree climbing and water walking moreso. They are chakra control exercises, and they teach precision."

"Sounds useful," Itachi said.

Shisui smiled. "Yes! They are also very useful skills, Itachi-kun."

"Will you teach us?" Itachi asked, both surprising Harry for his inclusion and making him look to Shisui in anticipation.

"Well, you're both a little young, but I can't imagine it'd hurt anything."

Neither of the younger boys were inclined to beg, but Shisui seemed to know this. After a moment of letting the two sweat it out, he grinned and gave them an affirmative.

"But don't expect too much," he warned them. "You're young yet to have much of any precise control over your chakra."

And so Harry got his first lessons in chakra control, and learned that walking up the side of a tree looked a lot easier than it was in practice.

o-

Early summer was marked by the announcement of an impending arrival of a new family member. Harry was confused for all of five minutes as Kushina grinned happily and Minato grinned goofily and Rin squeeled and Kakashi blushed.

It was the blushing that really gave it all away.

Harry wasn't an idiot, and he wasn't as naive as Kushina sometimes assumed, or wished, he was. Academy lunches – the ones where Harry wasn't ensconced in the classroom with Chouga – were shared with all the students in attendance, even the older ones. And the older ones talked a lot and they liked to try and impress the younger ones. Harry was used enough to the tactics, having once had a bully for a cousin, but some of what the older kids talked about got some of the younger ones either very confused, quite grossed out, or very very embarrassed.

So armed with gossip and hearsay it only took Harry a good five minutes to decipher that Kushina was pregnant with a baby. He eyed her belly with some speculation. She didn't look like she had a baby in her. Then again, she had taken to wearing a loose shift that trailed down to her knees that summer, and it hid the shape of her body quite well, especially with her long hair trailing around after her.

"When are you due, Kushina-san?" Rin asked. The girl had sidled up to Kushina and was almost hovering over her, staring at her belly much the same as Harry was.

"October," Kushina said, "only five more months."

"What! How come you didn't tell us?" Harry's attention was taken from Kushina to stare at Rin. Rin, who was normally so painfully polite and well spoken, had fallen into a gushing girl the likes of which Harry had only seen on the telly. He looked at Kakashi, whose cheeks were still a little pink over the rim of his mask. The other boy was staring at Rin too, though with less surprise, and a great deal more wariness.

Harry decided to keep an eye on her as well. If the young Jonin was watching her like a hawk, then obviously something was up.

But Rin didn't seem at all interested in either of the boys. Her attention was solely on Kushina, peppering her with questions, many of which Harry would've wished he hadn't heard if he had only known all of the references. He caught some of Kushina's few answers. Yes, she was going to have a baby. Sorry she hadn't told them all yet, she really wanted to have, but it was safer for the baby that nobody knew until it could no longer be hidden. Of course she knew the gender, she was absolutely sure the baby was going to be a boy. Yes she had a name, and no she wasn't going to tell them yet. Yes she was excited, ecstatic, it was the greatest joy in her life.

Rin's questions didn't end and eventually Harry, Kakashi and Minato sidled out of the living room and out to the back yard, leaving the women to a conversation that had descended rapidly, if Kakashi's stiffness had anything to say about it.

Harry wasn't entirely sure what he thought.

Minato seemed to sense his mood and trailed him over to the wooden dummy along the yard's fencline. As Harry settled into a stance and began knocking the dummy around, Minato leaned against one of its support posts, utterly unphased by the rattling vibrations going through it from Harry's strikes.

Harry was just starting to work up a sweat when he spoke.

"What do you think, Hisui?" Minato asked, using the name Kushina had given him. He had been doing it more so lately, as Kushina almost never called him anything but. Even Rin and Kakashi called him Hisui on occasion, instead of Hari, the name Harry had introduced himself as so long ago in the forest when he first came to Konoha.

Harry paused long enough to shrug before settling back into a sporadic rhythm of strikes again. Harry was thinking of a lot of things; thoughts and memories flashing through his mind in an abstract blur. The feelings stood out more than his thoughts and he tried to pinpoint them even as his thoughts continued to rush by him.

Images of a dark lab, feelings of being unable to move, fear, pain, a flooding panic and poison, yellow eyes that swallowed him whole. But Orochimaru was interspersed with images of a playground full of kids that watched Harry run from his cousin, and a cupboard under the stairs, and an angry burn from a hot pan that stretched across his palm. Also, snippets of Shisui as he taught Harry and Itachi how to walk up trees, and how to aim in two directions with one throw, and Kakashi's simple touch to his shoulder in the dark of the night after a nightmare, and Obito dragging him through the village, chattering as much as Kushina usually did…

He realized, somewhere, that he was thinking of family, of cousins, of brothers.

It was easier to say what he felt, rather than what he was thinking. The glimpses of memories were too disjointed to make sense in words, but his emotions were strong as they cycled through him.

"Surprise. Happy. Glad. Worry. Fear. Protect. Get stronger." He punctuated the words with strikes to the wooden arms of the dummy, sending it spinning around its post in a clattering whirl.

Minato was silent for a moment. "Fear of what?"

Harry gave a final hard strike to the dummy and stepped back out of the way of its spinning arms. He watched it spin for a moment before looking at the blonde.

"That Orochimaru will take him."

Minato regarded him with a look Harry couldn't read. Harry endured, and in short order Minato was turning him by the shoulders and kneeling before him, putting their noses at the same height. The blonde smiled at him, bright and sunny.

"So selfless, Hisui," he said, his smile still there and full of promise. "You'll be an amazing older brother for Naruto."

Harry blinked at the name before grinning himself. He would get stronger. He would protect him – Naruto.

Minato reached out and ruffled his hair, making the light strands more on end than they usually did. Harry ducked away, but didn't leave the man's hold.

"Jiraiya is coming for a visit, soon," Minato told him, making Harry smile. "We're going to name him Naruto's godfather. Do you think he's a good choice, Hisui?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. He thought it was brilliant. He liked Jiraiya.

o-

Jiraiya arrived in Konoha a month after The Announcement late on a bright morning. It was the end of the week and Harry didn't have Academy, though he had loose plans to meet up with some of his friends for some training – or swimming. Kushina and Minato happened to be both out of the house and the large man burst through the door only to startle Harry and Kakashi in the middle of their late morning breakfasts, both having happily slept late.

"Jiraiya!" Harry called a happy greeting. It drowned out Kakashi's groan.

The man gave a drawn out, booming "good morning," and crossed the length of the house in only a few long strides. "Nothing like a bright morning to cheer the blood and – what are you eating?!"

Harry blinked and looked down at his usual breakfast – rice and a white fish and he even had steamed radishes today. All cold. Kushina had cooked it all up in bulk and boxed the meals for the week, as she usually did. The boys in the house would eat the boxes for either breakfast or lunch or late night snacks when the woman wasn't guarding her kitchen from them. Kakashi had made a strong dark tea that he was knocking back with near alarming relish and which Harry had dumped liberal amounts of cream into. Harry had even gone through the trouble of making toast he slathered with creamy butter and ate the fish with.

All in all, it was an elaborate breakfast for the two boys with Kushina having left the house before the sun rose that morning.

"Breakfast," Harry told the Sannin. "There's another bento in the fridge if you're hungry."

Jiraiya eyed the spread on the table with something akin to disappointment.

Harry took that as a 'no thanks' and turned most of his attention back to his food. The Sannin finally slid onto the bench across from Harry, shoving Kakashi over as he did so. The teen gave the man a flat look, which Jiraiya seemed to be completely unaware of. The man continued to eye the table's offerings with a morose expression.

The three sat in silence for a whole of two minutes before Jiraiya sat up and slammed the table, hard.

Harry jumped at the sudden loud sound and stared at the tall man.

"That's it!" the Sannin exclaimed, standing up and looming over the boys. "That's it! We're going for a proper breakfast!"

"Proper…" Kakashi said, drawing the word out in a way that made it sound absolutely horrible.

"Yes!" Jiraiya shot his arm up over his head in a dramatic pose. "None of this… this…" he gestured at the spread on the table with a limp hand.

"Come, young ones!" Jiraiya said, pulling Kakashi out of his seat by the scruff of his clothes. Harry rose before the man could do the same to him, abandoning their breakfast spread with some remorse, but managing to stuff the last three bites of toast into his mouth all at once.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked once he managed to swallow, eyeing Kakashi's dark expression with some concern.

"Out!"

The Sannin hauled the young Jonin out of the house bodily while Harry followed on his own merits, his curiosity getting the better of his wariness. Kakashi escaped the Sannin's grip once on the front stoop, but didn't bother trying to get further away. Harry wondered if the other boy was as curious as he was about Jiraiya's idea of a proper breakfast. Harry had fleeting thoughts of eggs and bangers and muffins and thick tea and sausage and mashers…

"Let's go!" Jiraiya yelled, pointing down the street with his entire arm and half his body.

Harry glanced at Kakashi, catching the teen's hunched shoulders and narrowed eye. But the Jonin still did not use the Shunshin or even look like he was ready to bolt.

Jiraiya marched down the path to the street and headed down towards the interior of the village.

Harry trailed after the Sannin happily while Kakashi trailed him with a brooding expression that could rival Hi no Kuni's spring storms.

Jiraiya's idea of a proper breakfast was much like Obito's had been.

Harry stared at the red banners of Ichiraku's Ramen stand with a strong bout of nostalgia. He could almost see Obito pushing the banners aside, strutting into the interior of the place with a loud greeting and a wide grin, adjusting his goggles along the way.

Harry hadn't been back to Ichiraku's since the older boy's death. Not even Kushina had taken him back to the ramen stand. Harry turned to the teen next to him as Jiraiya ducked into shaded interior. Almost all of Kakashi's face was hidden from him, with the boy's covered eye facing him and his hair shadowing what little Harry could see. But the Jonin's shoulder's were slumped.

"Ramen," Kakashi said, so quiet Harry barely heard him. Then an even quieter sound that sounded like Obito's name.

"I miss him," Harry said.

Kakashi stiffened noticeably but then suddenly relaxed. He gripped Harry's shoulder and squeezed and Harry let out a sad sigh.

"Come on, Hari," Kakashi said, his voice still quiet but loud enough for Harry to hear him. "I'm hungry."

Harry nodded and let the teen push him onto a stool.

"This," Jiraiya proclaimed, gesturing at the ramen stand as a whole, and apparently utterly oblivious to the boys' morose remembrance. "This is a proper breakfast."

"Yes," Kakashi said. "Just don't tell Kushina."

Jiraiya gave him an incredulous look.

Harry knew that Obito would have agreed – ramen did make the perfect breakfast.

o-

Harry's first practical lesson on using his chakra chains outside of his body came over a year after Orochimaru, on the evening of his eighth birthday. It was given entirely through words rather than demonstrations. Kushina had gone quickly from faintly curvy to full on rotund within months and Harry thought her size made her move like a wobbly flamingo. Instead, she sat on the wide steps of the porch, her gardens flanking her in full bloom, and directed him in the use of the chains from her seat.

Harry didn't mind this much, except it would maybe would have been easier to see how she did it.

The molding of the chakra was a challenge but Harry was able to chain the snakes in his head and atop the Fuja Hoin script lines. It was the extending of the chains outside of his body that proved a particular challenge. Kushina had explained the technique to him in different ways but still he struggled to extend the glowing, bright shapes of the chains in his mind to his body's material form.

"Imagine them in your mind, and then feel them," Kushina told him from her seat.

Harry had been doing this for the past thirty minutes already, but hadn't gotten anywhere with it.

"I am," he said, his eyes closed and picturing the chains in his mind coming out from his arms very well.

Kushina was silent for a minute before saying, "Do it differently."

Harry huffed and slouched from his cross-legged position in the grass. Her laughter made him open his eyes and stare balefully at her.

"Why can't you show me?" Harry asked, sure that if he just saw how it was done than he could figure it all out and do it too. Kushina did not answer though, and her silence had Harry looking at her in concern. Her face was a little closed, reflecting hints of sadness or something close to it. Finally, she opened one arm in a gesture for him to join her and he scrambled across the grass into her arms.

Seated next to her with her arm wrapped around him, Harry could feel the unique warmth that was unique to Kushina, as if she had a fire burning within her and he could feel the heat of it radiating out through her skin.

"I can't show you the chains, Hisui," she told him, her other hand over the roundness of her belly.

She continued before Harry could ask her why.

"My chains are all used up inside me," she said, rubbing her hand over her belly. Harry eyed her rotund middle with some skepticism, wondering how a baby would make her unable to use her chakra chains. She was able to perform other techniques with her chakra, Harry had see her use a water technique on a sleeping Kakashi just the other day. The wave of water had come up out of the ground, cresting high amongst the trees in the backyard, and crashed down on the sleeping teen in the branches, drenching him and sending him tumbling to the ground.

Kakashi had retreated to some unknown location before Kushina could really get started on her rant about him being lazy and not helping with the dishes after dinner, but Harry had heard her loud and clear from his inherited position of dish-washer in the kitchen.

"You see, Hisui," she said, clearly seeing his skepticism, "I am holding something inside of me like you are, something other than baby Naruto." Her hand shifted from her belly to her sternum and she rolled her fingers into a fist. "It is an awful, powerful thing that I am holding, and I cannot let it out. All of my chains are holding it inside, so I can't use any of them to show you how to use yours."

Harry considered this. "Bigger than my snakes?"

"Yes, much bigger," Kushina said, running her fingers through his hair. "It is very big. But I know you can still use your chains. I know it, Hisui!"

Harry nodded, skeptical but willing to believe her.

Kushina ran a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair, tangling her fingers in the wild strands. Harry leaned into her, relishing in the familiar heat of her body. He moved one hand off his lap and touched his fingers to her round belly. She reached out to his hand with her own and guided his palm to lie flat against the upper curve of her stomach.

"Here," she said, a smile lighting her voice. "He's moving here. Can you feel him?"

Harry did. He stared at his hand, wide-eyed and a little breathless. He could feel the little motions and thumps against his palm. "Does that hurt?" he asked.

Kushina chuckled. "No. But it is a little uncomfortable sometimes, like when he hits my kidney."

Harry found himself grinning, holding his hand to her belly and marveling at the motion of life within her. He couldn't believe that a kid was curled up in that tiny little space, but the movements under his hand was proof that little Naruto was there; alive.

"He's a little feisty," Kushina commented. "So much energy!"

She sounded terribly fond and not the least bit annoyed.

"You're going to have to help me keep an eye on him when he comes, Hisui," she said, tugging at his hair.

Harry nodded seriously. Of course he'd keep an eye on Naruto. Probably two.

"I'll protect him," Harry promised.

Kushina smiled at him, placing her hand over his over her belly. "I know you will," she said. "You're his big brother, Hisui."

Harry nodded again, still serious, still in awe of the kicking little thing inside his cousin's body, still determined to protect his new little brother when he came into the world.

o-

October came with a chill wind that was unusual for Hi no Kuni in that time of year. Harry hunched his face into the tall collar of his jacket until only his eyes peeked out of it. With his hood up over his head, he probably looked like he was hiding from the world, but after two years of warm weather and hot summers, the chilly wind was a bit uncomfortable.

Despite the chill, Harry wasn't much bothered. Today was to be Naruto's birthday.

He hadn't seen Minato since the morning when the blonde had dropped him off at the Academy. Kushina had been collected by Biwako-sama, the two women giving him instructions to stay in the village and not to leave it. Harry thought it an odd request. He hadn't left the village since he had got there.

With Kakashi due to return from a mission sometime that day, which he hadn't returned yet from, Harry was left with Rin for the evening and the two wandered through the village, distracting themselves from their anxiousness. Duck flickered in and out of Harry's vision, trailing them along the roofs like a white shadow. He wasn't trying to be particularly subtle. They both knew that somewhere secret and safe, Kushina was giving birth to Naruto. They eventually made their way up the winding stairs to the top of the Hokage Monument. Harry worked his way amongst the stone spikes of the Fourth's hair and looked out over the village.

"It's pretty up here," Rin said from his side. Harry just nodded and they sat and watched the village from above.

After a time, Rin pulled out little squares of colorful paper, setting them in a small stack at her side.

Harry watched the older girl fold the paper into careful, straight folds. She gave him a smile as she folded, making shape out of the flat paper and a brightly patterned bird emerged, sitting on her palm, twitching in the breeze.

"A paper crane," she said, offering it to him. Harry took the fragile thing carefully, turning it around in his fingers, marveling at the play of bright colors and patterns of the paper.

"Here, Hisui-kun," Rin said, handing him a piece of paper. Harry smiled and settled down to folding and they soon had a pile of colorful little cranes around their knees. Rin picked one up and smiled.

"What are we going to do with them all?"

Harry looked at the scattered pile of colorful little cranes, then at the village stretched out under them.

"Let's set them free," he suggested.

Rin caught his intent easily and grinned. "Yes! Let's!"

Harry gathered up an armload, standing near the edge of the level spike of hair, Rin next to him.

"Ready?" she asked.

"On three."

"One," Rin said, smiling.

"Two."

"Three!" they said together and threw their arms up into the air, scattering the paper cranes. The wind picked them up, fluttered them around and carried them away. The birds soared, drifting down over the village in a colorful flock of fluttering paper wings.

"Pretty!" Rin said, watching their progress. Every once in a while a metallic sheen on the papers would pick up the light of the sun and reflect it back, making them twinkle as they flew.

It was a beautiful sight.

"There's a legend," Rin said, "That the one who makes a thousand paper cranes will be granted a wish."

"A thousand?"

Rin nodded, smiling. "What would you wish for, Hisui-kun?"

Harry didn't know. The only wish he'd ever had was granted by Kushina accepting him into her home and life and giving him a family. He couldn't really think of anything else he'd ever ask for.

"I don't know," he finally said. "What would you wish for?"

"I think I'd like to see my mother again. She died when I was little."

Harry thought about that. He'd never known his mother. Aunt Petunia only very rarely spoke of her. The only things he knew was that she married a man named Potter, had red hair and died in a car crash. It wasn't much to know and he didn't even have any memories of her.

"I think," he said, "that I'd wish to know my parents, if only a little bit."

Rin gave him a sad glance, but smiled through her sympathy, softening the look. "It's a good wish," she told him. "Let's try it, ok, Hisui-kun?"

"One thousand paper cranes?"

"Yes!"

o-

Their evening of paper cranes and wishes was interrupted by a nightmare.

It started as a distant ripple of badness, as if a great storm was blowing in and it was only a matter of time – short time – before it crashed dramatically over them. The feeling made Harry freeze, shivers running down his spine and tensing his muscles as he stared out over the village and the sunset and the forests surrounding it all.

"What – what is this feeling?" He couldn't pinpoint its source.

Rin sucked in a sharp, startled breath. She was just as stiff as he was, her hands frozen in the act of folding a wing of a crane.

"Its –" she swallowed audibly. "It's a killing intent. I've never felt it so strong. Where's it coming from?"

They didn't need to wait long.

The rolling distant sensation crashed down on the village in a thundering clap, sending up a ploom of smoke and dust that rose over the village and trees into the darkening sky. Out of the smoke a monster loomed, thrashing and snarling. It reared its great, red head back and called out to the sky. The sound reverberated over the village, knocking against the trees and echoing back again. Harry clapped his hands over his ears, calling out in shock at the sound that penetrated so harshly into his head.

The killing intent that had been distant and ominous was now suffocating and heavy, pressing down on him in tangible waves that pushed him to his knees, unable to move.

Harry nearly panicked. The last time he had been unable to move –

The creature, it looked like a wolf, or wild dog, howled and snarled and its tails slashed out of the smoke of its summoning in a wide destructive arc. They plowed through a whole neighborhood, scattering debris and shingles and stone and sending more dust up into the air. Distantly, through the air, when the monster's growls subsided if only a little, Harry could hear the cries rising out of the village.

"Be still!" a voice hissed urgently behind them. Harry cut his eyes to the side, to Rin and the masked face that was now between them, staring out over their shoulders at the beast. It was Duck. "No sudden movements," Duck said, "Don't draw its attention!"

Both Rin and Duck were trembling under the pressure of the beast's intent and Harry realized that he was as well.

The monster bunched and its tails took another wide swipe, toppling buildings and crushing roofs in, and it moved out of the smoke enough for Harry to see it.

It was red in the sunset, the color of red of blood, with a host of tails that didn't stop moving. It was a fox, or at least something like a fox.

A familiar lightning-flash had Harry raising his head, just in time to see Minato appear amidst the crackling display of the Hiraishin. Thunder rumbled in his wake as the sound caught up with him.

He stood at the edge of the spike of hair, tall and bright, his coat whipping around him in the wind, staring down the fox monster with a cool air that Harry could feel.

"Minato-sensei," Rin whispered, her voice strained.

The blonde turned his head enough to see them, his eyes widening then narrowing, before turning right back to watching the beast rampaging in the village.

The fox let out a furious howl, its red eyes staring straight at them, and it took a menacing step in their direction. Harry saw the damage its one step made, raking gouges through the street's cobbles and toppling market stalls like so many dominos.

"So, you sensed me," Minato said.

The fox snarled and opened its maw, barring teeth and throat and a gathering ball of dark energy. It licked and crackled into a dense sphere and shot forward towards them with startling speed.

"Oh no you don't," Minato said, holding his hands out in front of him, one of his kunai clasped between his fingers. Harry watched, alarmed, as the malevolent sphere of chakra hurtled towards them, aimed to crash directly into the head of the stone Fourth of the monument.

It never reached them, though it came close enough that Harry could feel the heat of it on his face.

A wide, crackling array of lightning spread before the Fourth, flashing across the sky and it swallowed the spherical attack from the fox with a thunderous boom. Harry clapped his hands over his ears again, wincing as a ringing picked up in his head from the sound.

"Not on my watch, demon fox," Minato growled out coldly. He was making hand seals, Harry could see his elbows moving in a swift pattern, but the blonde never got a chance to complete his technique.

Harry actually heard it, the scuffing step of a sandal across dirt, before Duck's body pitched forward with a pained, gurgling grunt. Harry stared and before he could even move to check on his guard the girl's body next to him jerked sharply and flew into him. Rin called out in pain and her larger body forced Harry down, pushing into the grass, even as her momentum continued and she flew, skidding across the rock of the monument to fall over its edge. Harry stared as she disappeared with a startled scream.

"Hisui!" Minato called, "jump! Catch her!"

Harry didn't hesitate, he didn't think, he didn't look back to see what had forced Rin over the edge of the high monument; he just did. His feet found purchase, his chakra pumping and pushing without his control through his soles in a powerful surge that shot him forward after the girl. The wind whipped through his hair and jacket as he fell, Rin just below him, falling faster than he was with his lighter weight. Harry tucked his body into something small, wishing for weight, for speed in the fall so he could catch her.

From somewhere that weight came and he hurtled down through the air. He collided straight into her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug, her own coming around his shoulders in a trembling hold. Harry looked over her shoulder as he saw the trees below the monument growing nearer and larger as they continued to fall.

"Minato –" he whispered, staring at the fast approaching ground.

A flash lit the corner of his eyes, and thunder rumbled behind his head in a gentle sound and suddenly strong, long arms wrapped securely around them both and Harry felt Minato's chest press into his back. The lightning flickered again, crackling around them all and the trees below them disappeared in a flash that nearly blinded him. Long grass and fallen leaves replaced the trees. They tumbled roughly across the forest floor, thunder rumbling after their jump and startling birds out of the trees.

Minato grunted as he pushed the two off him, rolling them onto the grass. Harry propped himself over Rin as the girl moaned in pain, clutching at her ribs, her arms still trembling.

"Rin!" he called, looking her over, trying to determine what was wrong. She peeked at him through squinted eyes and Harry could see the pain laced through her gaze.

"Ribs," she said through clenched teeth. "Pierced a lung."

"Can you heal it?" Minato asked, leaning over Harry to look at her.

"Well enough so you don't have to worry about me," she said, a glow of green chakra already lacing her fingers. Harry watched in concern and fascination, having so rarely seen Healing techniques before.

A presence distracted him even as a voice called out into the small clearing they had jumped to.

"I won't let you get away."

Harry whipped his head around, and caught sight of a dark-robed man with a strange, one-eyed mask swirl into sight. It was a technique unlike anything he'd seen before, neither the Shunshin or Minato's space-time jumps looked like that. Harry glanced at the blonde, catching sight of a cold, calculating look as the Fourth stared down the stranger.

"Are you Uchiha Madara?" Minato asked. Harry held his breath for a beat, surprised at the man's icy tone. There was a rising pressure of intent building between the two and already Harry could hardly move because of it.

"No, it can't be, he's dead," Minato continued.

The man's voice was deep when he spoke, laced with confidence – arrogance. "Well…who knows?"

"At this point it's not important who you are," Minato said, still chilled and nearly toneless. "But why are you attacking Konoha?"

"I guess you could say it's both a whim and a plan," the stranger said, "both for war and for peace."

Harry watched as the stranger let a chain fall from the billows of his sleeves, rattling to the ground around his feet. Minato responded in kind, his eyes narrowing, pulling one of his three-pronged kunai from a hidden pocket, his feet shifting in the grass as he readied to pounce. The man's battle demeanor put Harry in mind of an icy tiger, muscles bunching, ready to strike its prey out of the snow.

The masked man moved at the same time Minato did, calling out, the chain rattling behind him as he shot forward.

It was faster than Harry could follow, their movements a blur as their speed brought them together within seconds, but it stopped just as fast. Minato went straight through the stranger, the robed man's entire visage fading into a shadow as the blonde passed through him. But then he solidified and the chain wrapped around the Fourth's arms and chest, pulling tight, rattling and causing the blonde to hiss at the constriction.

Then the crackle-flash of lightning flashed across the clearing and Minato disappeared only to reappear meters away. The thunder rumbled softly across the area. The two turned and stared at each other, and Harry could only see the icy blue of Minato's eyes shadowed by his bangs.

The stranger shifted and suddenly Harry saw the man's eye – Sharingan spinning – and staring directly at him. The man moved his feet closer and Harry tensed.

"You should be watching your opponent," Minato said, his voice ice.

The masked stranger turned his attention back to the Hokage. "Perhaps so."

They moved, blurs of color and shadow and Harry only knew that they were charging at each other.

It ended with an explosion. Minato hovered over the splayed stranger, his arm pushed down into his back with an arching backlash of dense chakra. The force of it pushed Harry to the ground, his body spread over Rin's, the wind whipping at his hair and clothes and sending dirt and grass into the air.

"Hisui-kun," Rin gasped out. Harry pushed his weight off her, careful to use the ground as leverage and not her body. She winced and her arm was still wrapped securely, protectively around her chest.

A distant, angry howl roared over the trees, nearly drowning Minato's voice, "Now the the nine-tails will no longer be yours to control."

Harry turned his head towards the sound, recognizing the call of the great fox that was in the village. He couldn't see it, not even the Hokage Monument, the trees stood too tall.

"No wonder you're Hokage," the stranger said. He had moved to a high branch of a tree, one arm crossed tightly over his chest, clenching the other. Harry could see the blood dripping from the unused arm in a rhythmic stream and he realized that the man had lost a hand. "I'm impressed," he continued. "You were able to wound me and wrest the fox from me…But the nine-tails will be mine once more."

The stranger started to fade, the vision of him swirling in an ever-widening whirlpool that held his single-eyed mask at its center. Harry met that eye, unable to look away as the stranger gazed at him. "I am the ruler of the world. I have many means at my disposal." He disappeared in a swirling screech, leaving the clearing eerily silent after the short – so very quick – battle.

Harry stared at the empty branch, disturbed by the man's words, breathing rapidly in the sudden aftermath and loss of the heavy intent that the man had cast over the area. He couldn't help but wonder where he had gone, and when he'd be back.

o-

Minato jumped them to a small building that Harry was not familiar with. It was scattered with supplies, neatly organized across shelves and chests. In the center was a raised area with a futon spread across it, and Harry saw Kushina's red hair splayed and falling over its edge to the floor.

"Kushina –" Harry whispered. She shifted and turned, her body moving sluggishly and Harry met her eyes. She was pale and sweating as if in a fever, and as she raised her arm towards him, he realized that she was utterly exhausted. Harry crossed the small room quickly, leveraging himself up onto the space next to her, curling his legs under him and shifting into her warmth.

Except she wasn't warm. Her usual fiery body heat was gone, no longer radiating out from her like a comforting blanket. In contrast, she felt chilled and cold.

"Kushina-nee," he whispered, feeling her hand grip his own. She was trembling and he could see how much effort it took her just to turn her body and reach out to him. Then he caught sight of the baby – Naruto.

Blonde fuzz stuck out wildly from his head – the sunny, golden blonde that Minato had, not at all like Harry's washed out blonde-white color – and bright blue eyes stared back at them all. He was small and pale, with whisker markings on his cheeks, like birthmarks. The baby had one hand curled tightly around two of Kushina's fingers, and she held the boy close to her, almost desperately.

He turned back to Minato, feeling helpless, searching for answers. Why was she so weak? The blonde merely pushed Rin towards them, telling her to sit and rest. He pushed his fingers through Harry's hair.

"Watch over them," Minato charged. "I'll be back soon." He pulled on a jacket, armed himself with more pouches and weapons than Harry had seen him with since the war, and he was gone, leaving beyond a quickly fading rumble of thunder and light.

Rin joined them on the bed, folding herself up near Kushina's head, pulling the woman's head into her lap and running her fingers through her long hair. The girl's hands were laced with chakra, a soothing, cool feeling washing down from her, settling into Kushina's body like a balm. His cousin gave the girl a weak, thankful smile.

"Hisui," she said, her voice hoarse and strained.

She must have seen something of his terror and panic in his eyes. He could still feel the distant pressure of the beast in the village, his body trembling from the encounter with the masked stranger.

"His name is Kurama," she said, her voice soothing to him even as it was laced with her own fears. "He is the force of nature that I've had sealed within me, Hisui. He is all fury, and anger, and maliciousness, but he knows one thing that is worth something: it is how to keep a promise. The masked-man wants him to wage war and he tore him from me."

"The fox –" he said, his voice quiet to his own ears.

She still heard him, though. "Yes, the nine-tailed demon fox."

Harry thought of the monster that could level buildings with a swipe of its tails, the fury in its howls and felt his limbs tremble in remembrance.

"Hisui," she said, urgently, "Kurama cannot be used for this!"

Harry agreed, but he didn't know what to do about it.

Harry remained where he was, strangely tired, positively alert regardless. He worried for Duck, who had been left injured atop the Hokage Monument, and for Rin as the girl curled around her own body and Kushina's head. Kushina remained on her side, curled around her son, whispering to him words that Harry only occasionally caught. Things she had told to him before, words of the sea, of the winds, of the waves.

Her body trembled periodically, and Harry watched her in increasing worry.

Minato didn't return for a while. They hadn't moved much. Harry had retrieved a kunai from one of the shelves, one of Minato's special three-pronged weapons. He had felt a little safer, a little more prepared, with it clenched in his hand. Rin had nearly fallen asleep, curled up near Kushina's head, her face twisted a little in faint pain.

But when Minato did return, it was in a sudden flurry of motion. Before Harry even registered his presence, he was being scooped up and the light and thunder of his Hiraishin buffeted them in a flash. A booming explosion rocked their heels, and Harry felt something hard and unforgiving strike the side of his head.

o-

The blackness in his mind faded but didn't really go away. Harry blinked rapidly, trying to see, but even though the shadows retreated to the corners of his vision, they lingered stubbornly, feeding the throbbing in his head. It took him a moment to decipher what he was seeing.

A weight crossed over his middle, restricting his breathing - it was Rin. She was half sprawled across him, her face pale and her eyes squinted open. She looked more battered than he felt.

"Rin," he whispered, tugging at her arm over his stomach. She shifted and winced and Harry helped her role onto her back. She wrapped her arms around her ribs, her face twisting and a pained hiss seeped out through her teeth. She gave a single nod and sunk back into the grass, closing her eyes and looking like she was trying to control her breathing.

Harry looked for Minato.

Minato stood as if he was injured, exhausted or bearing a great weight across his shoulders, his arms cradling his small son close to his chest. Kushina was kneeling, hunched over much like her husband, bright chains of chakra shooting out of her back and into the ground behind her. They were arguing, he hunched over her, she up at him. Harry tried to concentrate, to hear their words, but he only heard a buzzing and ringing in his ears.

Harry stared at the chains. He had never seen her chakra chains before, though she had told him of them. She had said that once she used them in battle, but chaining the force of nature that had been within her had taken all her power with them. It finally struck Harry hard that the monstrous beast over the trees was once sealed away within his cousin's body. He wasn't sure he really understood how that was even possible.

The fox was just so big.

The chains disappeared into the dirt, diving deep as if trying to find the other side of the world, but the growling coming from over the trees took Harry's attention. The nine-tails was there, spitting at the sky, hissing and growling and chained tightly down. Kushina was holding the fox captive.

Kushina had went paler at her husband's last words, her eyes wide in shock, and Harry strained through the buzzing in his ears to just hear.

"The masked man who attacked you," Minato continued, looking down at the child he held. "He will bring catastrophe upon us! As the host, this child will be the one to stop him! I just know it!"

Kushina was pale and trembling, and Harry was aware that she was lucky she had survived the extraction of the great beast from her. Rin had helped, but her efforts had only soothed, not healed.

"Kushina-nee," Harry gasped out.

She turned, her face pale and her body trembling.

"Hisui," she said, reaching out to him. Harry pushed himself to his hands and knees, but couldn't manage to find his feet. He crawled over the short space to her instead. Kushina dug her fingers through his hair once he was close and Harry slumped, exhausted and dizzy and his head pounding. Through it all he struggled to think, vague thoughts floating through his head that formed something of an idea.

"Kushina-nee," Harry said, shifting his hold under her, which in turn made her tighten her grip in his white hair. "Can I help chain him?"

She stared.

"I've chained up the snakes," he continued, trying to convince her that he could help and not just to hold her up from falling flat to the ground. He didn't think he had much time, before he passed out. He knew the signs of a concussion when he had them. He'd gotten one or two in the Academy yard. Something had hit his head, hard. "I can help chain the fox."

"Hisui."

Harry looked from his stricken cousin to Minato, who was staring at him as if he hadn't quite seen him until then. Harry knew that look. It was the look the blonde got when he had been puzzling something out and suddenly the answer had come to him and he was now fitting all the pieces together.

"He is Uzumaki," Minato said, his voice strangely even and he was still staring at Harry. Harry blinked back at him, fighting away the threatening shadows at the corners of his eyes. "Even still, perhaps the whole fox is too much for him yet. Half can be done. I can separate the Yin and Yang…"

"Minato… but –"

"And then with the Hakke no Fuin Shiki," Minato said, almost mumbling.

"But I don't want them to have that life!" she protested, halting Minato's sudden planning.

Minato was silent as he stood, staring down at her. Kushina's body was trembling, still panting in her increasing weakness, but Harry could tell she had a list of protests against whatever plan Minato had put together.

"Why?" She asked, "To preserve the balance? For our country? Our village? There's no reason to sacrifice our boys for that!"

Her outburst took a lot of her strength, and left her gasping for breath, shaking in Harry's hold, cold and pale.

"Abandoning one's country," Minato said, a thoughtful, soft look on his face. "Abandoning one's village… that's the same as abandoning one's child. As someone whose country was destroyed, you should understand that best, shouldn't you? You know the harsh life that awaits those without a country."

Minato crouched down on one knee, putting himself close to them. He sat Naruto down before Harry's knees. "I am willing to die for my son," Minato glanced at Harry, "both of them, that is my role as father."

Harry stared, feeling tears in his own eyes, knowing that the sons Minato spoke of included him, and never feeling so accepted, so a part of something before – so loved. He glanced between the two, staring at each other, and then to Naruto, who lay between them all. the center of a triangle, bundled and resting. The baby shifted and a sliver of blue was revealed in his eyes as the child looked up at him. Harry reached out his hand, ran his fingers over the boy's cheek. Naruto closed his eyes, his mouth twitching.

Harry knew then, that he would do anything to protect him. Everything.

o-

Harry had never extended his chakra outside of himself before, not in the way Kushina had done with her chains, despite all his lessons on how. He had learned tree walking, but had not mastered it, and knew of techniques and chakra control, and he knew how to knot the chains of his own chakra around something in his own mind – but he had never dug chains of his own power into the ground to restrain something meters away.

Despite his inexperience, Harry did it. He would protect Naruto.

His chakra chains were of slightly different look than Kushina's, diamond-shaped links that rattled with the same bell-like sounds and glowed brilliantly with power. They shot forth from his arms and hands and back, many little ropes of links that curled, hovered, and dove down deep into the rock beneath him. It was a strange sensation, and he didn't really control them as much as he directed them towards his target: the snarling, restrained nine-tailed fox.

Kushina's voice called out in surprise.

Harry felt his chains curl and shoot up out of the earth into the sky, soaring above the monstrous creature, arcing over and diving back into the ground, crossing paths with each other as well as the loose netting that Kushina had already thrown. It pulled tight, and he gasped at the feeling. The fox fought and he pulled the chains tight, snug against the burning fury that was the nine-tailed fox.

He pulled it taught and nearly collapsed from the exertion.

"Got him," he ground out, most of his concentration on the fox over the trees.

"Hisui –" Kushina gripped at his hair, pulling him close to her body. "Hisui, you don't need to –"

"I want to," he said. "I have to. I'll protect him, even if I have to take on the same burden." Harry looked up at her, meeting her mismatched eyes and gave her a smile. "I can do it. I can help. I can. I'll do anything to protect Naruto, and you two."

"Oh Hisui, it's not your job to protect us," Minato said, reaching out to grip Harry's shoulder.

Harry thought that was silly. "But family protects each other."

Neither of the adults had an argument for that. Kushina gripped his hair, pulling him snug against her, and Minato's determination solidified into something that Harry could almost feel. They had given him family, true family and taught him that family protects each other, and Harry was never going to let that policy wane. He would protect his family, and their home, and their village and he would do anything to see it done. It was his way.

Minato raised his arms to form seals, but Kushina reached out and gripped his forearm, stopping him. Her knuckles were white with her grip.

"Not that seal, Minato!" she told him, her eyes bright against the paleness of her face. "Not that one! You need to be here! I won't be. They need you!"

"Nine-tails's chakra needs to be separated for –"

"Hisui can separate it," Kushina cut him off and startling Harry. He could? "With my help. You can not use that seal!"

Minato was quiet for a moment, his eyes meeting those of his wife's, their argument and battle of wills silent.

"I won't last, Minato," Kushina said, her voice so soft Harry barely heard her. He had suspected, but her words – He stared at her, her words sinking in to his mind like a death toll. "But I can use the last of my strength to help split Kurama's chakra. I can help Hisui to chain him. But you need to be there! Please –"

Minato finally nodded, his face solemn and sad. "I could never compare to you." He reached out to her and touched the tips of his fingers to the side of her face. "Even if it is just for a short time, there is something you can give him as his mother that I never could. That is a mother's role. I think I might have just enough strength for this. Kushina, with the Hakke no Fuin Shiki, I'll seal the last of your chakra inside of Naruto. You won't get to see him for long once he grows up, but he will need your help, when he tries to control the nine-tails as its host."

Harry felt Kushina's fingers tighten in his hair. "Hisui –"

"I cannot place the Hakke no Fuin Shiki on Hisui," Minato said, reaching out to grip Harry's shoulder. "Not if he chains the fox himself like you did. The two techniques will interfere, you know this."

Kushina just pulled Harry closer to her, and Minato moved to make preparations for the seals, taking Naruto with him. Minato moved swiftly, summoning a pedestal complete with encircling candles, and lay the baby gently into its confines. Harry heard the man offer the boy a soothing sound, running his hand over Naruto's head.

"Love is the key, Hisui," Kushina told him, her voice low, just loud enough for him to hear her, her breath tickling his ear. "Fill the vessel with love, and then you can overcome Kurama's fury and hate."

"Love?"

"Yes."

Harry thought of love. He thought of Minato and Obito and Rin and even Kakashi. He thought of Naruto. Mostly he thought of Kushina and her waterfall red hair and her strong arms around him in a hug. Harry buried himself into her body under her shoulder and despaired at the loss of heat that was so familiar.

A wet cough wracked through Kushina and Minato whipped her head to her. She crossed an arm over her middle, still coughing, unable to get it under control. Her weight bore down on him. Harry could see blood dribbling from the corner of her mouth.

"Kushina," Minato stepped towards them, "Are you alright?"

Something yanked Harry from behind, pulling his arms backwards and jerking his body to the ground. The sudden force of it knocked the wind out of him and he lay dazed. Belatedly, he realized it was the chakra chains, the fox suddenly not where it had been a moment ago. Harry caught only a glimpse of the fox's form as it hurtled towards them all, a great rushing shape that blurred into color and suffocating intent.

Pain slammed through his shoulder and Harry screamed as muscles and bone ripped and snapped. He fought against the rising tide of unconsciousness, struggling to stay awake through the agonizing pain of his shoulder and spreading numbness of his right arm.

He squinted up through tears and haze and saw Kushina hovering over him, the angry face of the Nine-tails snarling down at them. A long, razor claw sliced through his shoulder, dripping blood, disappearing through the middle of Kushina's body and going back up to the extended arm of the fox.

Harry stared in growing horror, realizing that the fox's claw had gone clean through her abdomen. Even still, her hands gripped it tight, holding it back from bearing further down on Harry. Harry reached out his left hand and saw that his whole arm was trembling near violently. He touched the back of Kushina's hand and she gave him a strained, bloody smile. Her eyes were tight with pain, but bright with emotion.

Harry pulled back, tightening the chains of his chakra, too shocked to make the fox retreat but trying anyways.

The sound of the chains rattled and the fox let out another long, angry hiss. It didn't retreat, but the pressure bearing down on his already battered body lessened, and he could see the muscles in Kushina's arms cease straining so hard.

"You alright, Hisui?" she asked, her voice laced with pain and determination.

Harry could only nod.

Then he looked to his side, sucking in a startled breath. It caused pain to flash at his shoulder, but it was drowned out by what he saw. Minato was in much a similar state as his wife, crouched low over his blonde-haired little son, hands and knees dug into the turf as he held back the fox's claw with his own body.

It took one agonizing moment for Harry to discern that the claw hadn't gone through Naruto as well. Minato had apparently let it go through his own body if only to push it to the side, barely. The sharp nail dug deep into the ground at the side of Naruto's head, just far enough away to miss the baby, but close enough to drip his father's blood into the hair over his ear.

"Minato-sensei, Kushina!" Rin stumbled, over to them, no longer holding her own ribs, but her hands outstretched towards the couple skewered by a monster's claw. Harry had nearly forgotten she was nearby. She looked exhausted, tears trailing down her cheeks, barely able to get her feet under her.

"Don't, Rin," Minato said, "Save your strength."

"But –"

The blonde shook his head slowly, blood pooling under his chin, his face deathly pale. Harry stared at him, not quite able to take in Kushina, who's face looked worse – sweating, trembling, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. The fox's claw looked to have gone straight through him as well, except higher in his chest, closer to his shoulder, dangerously close to his heart, Harry knew.

"Minato-sensei –" Rin said her words laced with sorrow. The girl slid to the ground as if boneless, her arms trembling lightly even as she reached out to grip Minato's jacket. Harry saw Rin's head bob as if nearly falling asleep, but she determinedly held on, awake, pleading with her eyes.

"This is the first time I've ever lost an argument with you," Kushina commented, turning to look at her husband. "It's how I know you must be serious."

"Thanks Kushina."

Minato forced himself to his knees, panting, pushing back against the claw that held him down, hands rising to make seals, "Now, time for the Hakke no Fuin Shiki to put the nine-tails within Naruto."

"Hisui," Kushina turned back to him with a strained look. "I know you can do it. Pull, now. I'll hold half of him back."

Harry met her eyes and did as she told him. He pulled.

He heard Minato speaking, but Harry was only really focused on her and the effort of trying to reel in a power the size of a mountain.

"Chain it up tight," she was saying, talking him through the task even as she struggled to breath, "shrink him down. He's only so big to look scary, you can make him smaller."

The chains rattled, singing out a clanging sound of little bells, and Harry pulled his chakra back into himself, dragging a protesting, furious creature along.

"That's it Hisui," she said, but Harry couldn't see her anymore, he only saw the landscape of his own mind, shadowed with his concussion, littered with chains shooting off into every direction, clanging and sparking as they shifted and reeled back into the ground, straining at the struggle of it. He heard Minato's voice call out, but couldn't catch the words over the sound of his own power.

And suddenly the force of the Nine-tails didn't seem so large, and the task of reeling him in was easier, swifter. His chains sped through him, into him, dragging trailing strands of red that looked something like blood, but thinner, like red water.

It dripped into his mind like a leaky roof in a downpour, echoing across his hearing in a pattering, tinkling sound of water. It hissed as it struck the ground, splashing up in red arcs.

Harry eyed the drips warily and with rising trepidation.

And then the drips turned into a flood.

o-

The fox's chakra burned into him like boiling water, smooth and swift and undeniably hot. It rushed through his veins and sought out escape through his ears, his mouth, and Harry struggled to contain it. He used the chains, as watery as it felt, and even as it flowed around his attempts to lasso it, it burned. It flooded his senses so all he saw or felt or tasted was the coppery hot power of the nine-tails.

It bashed around the roof of his mouth and boiled in his lungs, and seeped into his head through his nostrils. Then it found the snakes in his mind and the house that still stood there, surrounded by geraniums. The fox surrounded it, streams of swirling waters cast red from some inner darkness, and Harry felt undefended, despite his dragons and canons. How could he defend against a flood?

It was like a rising tide. Harry threw chains over it even as it rose into foaming waves, gurgling and boiling. He was surrounded and the house trembled under the rising force of the fox's invasion. The chains weren't enough. Harry turned them into nets, chain-linked together, heavy and metallic.

He was too late.

The waves crested high, bearing down on his mind like an angry red tsunami. It crashed through him with a roar and buried the house in thundering waves, consuming him. He sunk into their depths, timbers floating around him, copper on his tongue. Heat roiled into fury and he thought he was going to drown in it.

Somewhere, past the roaring waters in his mind, he heard Kushina's voice echoing over the waves. It was a clear bell to Harry, and he latched onto the sound as a lifeline.

"But just be yourself, and live your dreams! I wish I could be there to teach you so many more things. Hisui, I know you'll look out for him, tell Naruto stories of us and teach him of our clan. Naruto, look up to your brother, aid him and learn from him. Love each other, you're brothers now." She sounded pained, tired, and teary. "Protect each other and never let go, never give up!"

Harry's head broke the surface of the tides and even as he floundered he cast every bit of strength out that he could into a wide net. The sound of chains rattled and sparked like flashing bells and the red waters boiled, even as it began to subside. Harry's chakra pressed against it, pushing it away, bearing down.

But where could he put so much water?

Thought turned to image and the waters drained, swirling and angry and spitting back at him. His chain nets pressed back, sparking and ringing out, louder and more clear than the watery gurgles and roars of the red waves.

"Stay put," he ground out, "go down."

Some how, the waters followed his words. Like being sucked down a hole, or the drain of a sink, the roiling waters were pulled into a deep dark well of his own making. Wide and deep, and lined with stone and iron, the waters were contained. Harry topped it with woven chains and nets, securing.

The bubbling waters turned and splashed and a snarling face bulged out at him, hissing and spitting a spray of red. Harry frowned and hissed back. The fox's eyes dilated in surprise and with the lull, Harry knotted the chains around its muzzle and tethered it into the depths of its own watery power.

"Be still," Harry commanded.

Miraculously the fox obeyed, grumbling out of the deep and into the ravaged spaces of his mind. It looked like a great disaster; as if a flood had rushed the banks of a river and washed away all the structures leaving behind only broken trees, debris and mud. Harry supposed that was exactly what had happened. The house was gone, as were the snakes and the trees and the mountains and the dragons and the geraniums.

Exhausted, Harry slumped to his knees in the mud, wondering if he knew how to leave his own mind or if he even wanted to. He watched the waters of the wide well simmer under the netting. Water dripped into his eyes from his hair; he was sopping wet and felt as if he had been drowned. He was so tired.

Minato spoke in a voice that tolled of finality, "Seal."

Kushina's voice floated through the quiet aftermath, clear and smiling. He wished he could see her hair again. He had always admired her hair.

"I love you."

o-

When next Harry woke it was to someone singing, but it wasn't Kushina.

o-

**Author's Commentary: **I am well aware that Kushina's nickname is fully translated as "Red Hot-Blooded Habenaro" but that is such a mouthful. Harry wasn't always going to become a Jinchuriki. I hadn't even planned on it, but the bloody stubborn boy went and did it anyway, which reveals just how little control I have over this kid... I rewrote this chunk of story at least three times, and managed to force the issue once, but it was unnatural and strained and really, Harry just would. So I had to let him talk Minato and Kushina into it... the stubborn lot.

**From the Crystal Ball:** A peek into the future perhaps, because little scenes of Hari-Shinobi interacting with The Wizards keep creeping into my brain. No promises this will actually show up in the story later, but it may as well.

Harry eyed the stick in his hand with unhidden skepticism. It didn't look particularly dangerous or very effective as a weapon. It was dull and unwieldy – he wouldn't be able to throw it with much accuracy. It was too big to hide easily, too slim to bludgeon someone with. He supposed he could use it as an extension to jab at pressure points, but that was impersonal and he could misread the touch and miss the point or press too hard. It could be used to stab at something soft, an eye, the jugular, maybe an ear through to the br…

"Well give it a wave!" the Wandmaker said, shaking his hands in a vertical arc and stopping Harry's internal assessment of the wand as an effective assassination tool.

Harry shrugged and did as instructed.

Several things happened all at once.

Something gave an indecent yank at his chakra. The well in his mind boiled. Angry red sparks shot out of the tip of the wand like a great firework set alight and an entire row of shelving, boxes, wands and wood all exploded. The force of it sent Harry back several paces, his arms crossed in front of his chest in an instinctive move to protect himself. His staggered feet and a ready defensive stance allowed him to weather the explosion without being sprawled out across the floor of the shop on his backside.

His Wizarding companions hadn't fared quite so well as the Shinobi.

From somewhere within the rubble and cloud of dust came the Wandmaker's voice, a little raspy, and interspersed with hearty coughs as if the man was trying to clear out his lungs. "No, no, that won't do at all."

Harry rather hoped it was the dust that was making the man sound excited.


	5. The Sage of the Toads

**EDITED:** April 2014. Mostly grammatical edits.

**Author's Note: **Ready… Set… Divergence! And Jiraiya, the stage hog.

**By the by**: romance will be no more a part of this story than it is in canon (either canon). Does that settle everyone a little?

o- **The Sage of the Toads** -o

By: Renatus

When next Harry woke it was to someone singing, but it wasn't Kushina.

The voice was low and a little rough, but had a pleasing timbre regardless. The song was about the open road and a traveler and a beast and a damsel and the moon – Harry turned on the bed, his shoulder flaring in muffled pain and found its source: Jiraiya.

He also found Naruto. The baby was curled up next to him, his blonde head tucked up into Harry's chest. Harry wrapped his good arm over the baby, finding a strange, soothing comfort in his heat and presence. His shoulder thrummed distantly and he inspected the heavily bandaged quadrant of his chest. The bandages wrapped around his ribs, collar and right arm, stretching all the way down to his belly button and his elbow. They were seeped in brown from old blood and a blossoming spot of bright red where his arm met his torso. The thrumming continued and Harry figured he had been given something to dull the pain.

Jiraiya's song continued. The large man was sitting in the window, perched there like an overgrown, pot-bellied owl, belting out his song to the afternoon. It was descending rapidly into something that probably shouldn't be sung in public and he was using words that were increasingly out of Harry's vocabulary.

"Jiraiya-sama," Harry greeted.

The man jumped in surprise and nearly fell right out the window.

"Ah! Hisui-kun!" he said once he had regained his perch. "You're awake. You've been out for two days."

"Yes," Harry said. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to be though. His mind was not letting him forget recent events despite his desire to have a morning without the memories. They were a little disjointed, shadowed by the blow he had received to his head by the collapsing hideout, and hazed in the red that was the nine-tailed fox. It was a little difficult to remember the details, or the order of events and he wasn't sure he was ready to look too hard anyways.

But Naruto was curled up in his arm, the baby's warmth undeniable, a heavy reminder to all that had happened. Harry felt like he never wanted to let the child go, ever.

"The little tyke just wasn't happy until they laid him down with you," Jiraiya told him. He was watching the two boys with a fond, somewhat sad sort of expression. "Then he just curled right up and went to sleep."

Harry looked down at the baby. Naruto's face was peaceful in sleep, even as his nose twitched and he snuggled his cheek closer to Harry's body. He was very warm cuddled up next to him, as if his little body radiated the heat of a bonfire. The warmth was incredibly soothing to Harry, who likened it to Kushina's heat whenever he was nearby her.

"You alright, Hisui-kun?"

Harry nodded. He was fine, in a distant sort of pain and was faintly groggy, though he was really, very hungry.

He didn't really want to ask, but he had to know, "Kushina? Minato?"

Jiraiya's silence was heavy and Harry bowed his head to rest against Naruto's.

"Rin slipped into a chakra coma due to exhaustion. She used all her chakra, we think, to heal you, whose wounds were the least of –" The man shrugged uncomfortably, eyeing Harry a little warily. But Harry didn't need to be told about triage, he was in the Academy, after all, and the Academy was still on a war-time curriculum. They may not have learned much of healing arts, but they knew how to discern a fatal wound. Harry had seen the way the fox's claw had gone straight through Kushina and Minato, the Hokage more to one side, even as Kushina's body was pierced centrally. Harry knew what organs were in the path of that kind of strike.

"Or she healed Minato. We're really not too sure. Minato is being held in a stasis healing array," Jiraiya said quietly. "He took some extensive damage to his ribs and lungs and his shoulder is practically torn to shreds. The medics were in a right frenzy… they aren't sure he'll make it. We were waiting for Tsunade. She's our best medic and if anyone can get that boy back on his feet, it'll be her. But she's a little –" Jiraiya trailed off with a very uncomfortable look. "Well, she was a ways away, and those arrays can only hold him for so long… she's with the boy now. We won't know for… a while."

Harry nodded, his nose bumping against Naruto's head at the motion. The baby's fine blonde hair tickled his face.

Jiraiya spoke again, even more subdued. "Kushina –"

"I know," Harry whispered into Naruto's hair. Harry wasn't an idiot. She was dying already, then the fox's claw had gone right through her as she deflected the worst of it from Harry. Harry knew she would not survive that. He had heard her last words to him, over the roaring waters of the nine-tails' power in his head. I love you.

"I'm sorry, kid."

o-

Whatever healing Tsunade was doing took nearly three days. Harry hovered in the hospital during those days, alternatingly in the room assigned to him, in the room Rin was laid in looking like she was merely asleep or in the hallway outside the array chamber's doors. Always Naruto was with him. A few of the medics fussed over him, but gave him a cloth sling that wrapped over his good shoulder and under the other and held the baby to his chest with ease, even with the wounds he sported. Even though they frowned and fussed, Harry wouldn't let Naruto out of his sight. So they taught him what he needed to know and changed his bandages with disapproving looks but no words.

Naruto had proven to be born with powerful lungs and the newborn was most content when next to Harry.

Jiraiya came and went, as did the Third Hokage and Kakashi, but Harry kept his vigil, watching the doors and waiting for news.

It finally came in the early hours after dawn. Harry was sitting outside the chamber, Naruto cradled in the sling, awake and staring up at him as Harry waved his fingers in front of his nose. A mostly empty bottle rested beside his knee, next to his half-eaten breakfast of rice and fish. Jiraiya was nearby, crouched against the wall half asleep.

The door creaked when it opened, as if from long disuse. Jiraiya jumped at the sudden motion from the door, wobbling and nearly toppling to the floor. He jumped to his feet as a figure emerged.

The woman who exited the chamber looked incredibly tired and as pale as a patient.

"Tsunade," Jiraiya said, crossing the hall to prop the woman up. She didn't protest and leaned against him wearily.

"He's stable," she said. "But he's slipped into a coma. He used up all his chakra with whatever hair-brained scheme he came up with. The boy's damn lucky to even be alive. I don't even know how he is. He's damned stubborn, even like that." She waved her arm absently behind her.

"But he is alive, right?" Jiraiya asked, his eyes darting over to Harry. The woman didn't seem to have noticed him yet.

"He might not wake, and if he does he might not be whole, but yes. He's alive."

Harry sucked in a rattling breath, catching her attention. She stared at him, squinting her eyes at him, then at the baby in his lap, which caught her attention more than Harry had.

"Is that –"

"Naruto," Jiriaya said, "Minato's son. And Hisui, Kushina's cousin."

She winced and looked away, mumbling an apology.

"I need to sleep," she told Jiraiya. "And I need a very strong drink, preferably before I sleep."

The man nodded and guided her down the hallway. Harry watched them go until they turned a corner and looked back at the chamber Minato was ensconced within. He rose, clutching Naruto to him, and crossed the hall. The door was still ajar and he peeked through, curious, needing to see him.

He was easy to spot. Minato was laid out on the floor in the middle of the room, a thin futon underneath him, and a blanket thrown over his body. A complex system of circles were stretched out on the floor, drawn in something dark, occasionally lighting up with chakra and racing towards him only to sink into his body.

He was heavily bandaged, his torso completely covered with thick gauze, but his chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm. He was alive.

"Sealing and stasis arrays," a voice told him. Harry glanced over his shoulder to find the Third shadowed by a familiar figure. Duck. "And healing, too, it looks like."

"Will he wake up?" Harry asked.

The Third gave him a grave look. "Maybe."

Harry nodded. "Can I stay here a while?"

"Don't step on the arrays," the Third said after a moment.

Harry just pushed the door open far enough to slip inside and settled against a wall, sliding down the floor to sit cross-legged, Naruto nestled in the nook between his knees. Duck followed him inside without a sound, leaning up against the wall near the doorway. Harry spared the masked figure a glance, wondering about his wounds and glad he was alive.

He knew the Third still stood in the doorway, and the three watched the blonde in the center of the room breathe.

o-

Rin and Minato did not wake, and after two weeks Jiraiya managed to convince Harry to return to the Academy. This was done with a fair bit of cajoling, a bit of guilting and a very stern promise from the man to keep a watch on Naruto at all times. Jiraiya told him he was going to recruit help in the form of Uchiha Mikoto, who had her own little one, and would know what to do. Harry decided this was acceptable, and despite the discomfort at the distance from Naruto, he returned to his classes.

His return was not anything really of note to his classmates. Many of the students had filtered back to classes after the nine-tails had been let loose through the village. Many of them had lost family members, friends, loved ones, and Harry was not the first or last to return to the Academy.

He was still recovering from his own wounds, though most of the littler ones had faded to barely-there yellow bruises or scabbed over scrapes. The hole through his shoulder was almost fully healed, much to the medics' astonishment, but flashes of pain still waved out if he jostled it wrong.

Chouga was not there. In his place was a curvy woman with strawberry hair and a sorrowful, gentle look about her. She gestured Harry into the classroom and he eyed her as he took his seat.

"That's Haruno Ichigo-sensei," Kabe informed him with a low whisper.

"Where's Chouga-sensei?" Harry asked.

Kabe shook his head. He either didn't know, or their teacher had not survived the recent destruction. Harry was betting on the latter, even as he hoped for the former. Maybe Chouga's family had lost someone too, and he just hadn't returned to teaching yet.

Ichigo had a kind voice, and many kind words, even as she sought to impart knowledge to her students in a swift and effective manner. The students liked her and she encouraged them to learn while also encouraging them to play and have fun. It was like she was trying to remind them of the good things of life, even of Shinobi life, after the death and destruction that the nine-tails had caused to the village.

She caught on to Harry's continued struggles with the written form of the language very quickly. She pulled him aside before lunch to hand him a Library Pass.

"There are resources there that can help you," she said.

Harry just nodded and let his eyes fall to somewhere near her feet. She wasn't overly tall, even next to him, but her hair was long and pretty, curling at the ends as it wrapped around he waist. Her waist, which was round with child...

Harry felt a sudden pang of severe loss, and turned away from her.

"Uzumaki-kun?" she called after him.

Harry ignored her and darted out of the classroom, clutching the Library Pass and trying not to let the tears he felt fall.

She looked a lot like Kushina had, in the few months before That Last Night.

o-

Rin pulled out of the chakra coma two weeks later, groggy, tired, barely able to remember the night that had put her under for so long. She smiled at him weakly when he came to see her, Naruto in the sling around his chest. She looked very tired, leaning up against a pile of pillows and Kakashi's shoulder, who sat next to her on the bed. When she grabbed his hand, her grip was weak.

"Hisui-kun," she said, her voice dry and hoarse from disuse. "I'm so sorry."

Harry hovered, fighting gratefulness at her attempts to heal him, and anger that she hadn't tried to heal Minato, no – Kushina, too – instead. His own feelings shamed him. Both were family, but Kushina – she was blood and she had been the only one of Harry's blood to not send him away.

And she was gone.

"I tried…" she winced, her grip weakening on his fingers, then tightened again suddenly. "She told me no, she told me no, Hisui-kun. She told me you, you and Minato and sensei needed it most. I'm so sorry."

Kakashi watched them silently through one half-closed eye.

Harry closed his eyes and finally, moved his limp hand and squeezed her fingers in return. He couldn't blame her, and didn't, not really. His feelings waged a war within himself, not against her and as much as he wanted to lay blame, he had been there. He knew Kushina. She would have said no.

So selfless, was Uzumaki Kushina.

Harry held in the tears he could feel gathering and crawled up onto the bed next to Rin, barricading her between himself and the Jonin on her other side. He was careful of the precious burden he had strapped to his body and the lingering ache of his scarred shoulder. When he was settled next to her, their shoulders touching, her body propped up between the boys, Harry introduced her to his little brother.

"He's so beautiful," she said softly, brushing her fingers over the bright fuzz of hair. Naruto stared up at her, his blue eyes wide and bright, watching her marked face with an inquisitive look.

Rin's waking soothed Harry some & settled Kakashi's crazed tenseness, but he still wondered about Minato, and the Hokage still slept.

o-

Over a month after the attack, and the village had mostly returned to normal. The strawberry-haired woman left the Academy and Chouga-sensei returned, bandaged and limping, but alive and with a smile for each of them. Harry appreciated the familiar face.

Harry's days were spent at the Academy even as he raced away from it each evening, back to Naruto and his vigil over the still unconscious Namikaze Minato.

It was one of these evenings, while Harry was in his usual spot along one of the walls of Minato's room, that Kakashi came around. He had visited before, but he was a Jonin, and was quite active with missions, even more so since Obito's death and again since the nine-tails' attack. Harry barely saw him except mid-month, before Rin woke, when the other boy spent three days in the hospital due to some unnamed mission.

The older boy slipped into the room, looked around, and without a word, slid down the wall to sit next to Harry. They were so close that Kakashi's shoulder brushed against his. Neither spoke for a while, and both white-haired boys just watched the seals across the floor spark and settle, and the man breathe.

Finally, Kakashi hit the nail on the head.

"You can't protect him if you don't get better," he started, his voice flat and direct. "You wont get better if you don't train, and you can't train inside an array chamber."

Harry flinched.

Kakashi gripped his arm in a tight hold, and Harry didn't fight him off.

"Come on, Hisui," he said, his voice softer than before, muffled even further by his mask. "Watching him makes you feel better, but it doesn't help anybody, least of all you or Naruto."

Harry sat still, stubbornly watching Minato in sleep, willing the blonde to heal, to get better, to wake up. Kakashi let him, but didn't let go of his arm. After a few minutes the older boy tightened his hold, reminding him he was there.

"Alright," Harry whispered.

Kakashi helped him to his feet and with Harry cradling Naruto in the sling, he followed the young Jonin out of the hospital.

o-

Harry returned to his training, his body heavy and sore, his muscles nearly screaming at him much like it had done after his convalescence after Orochimaru held him.

Rin moved into the empty bedroom of the rowhouse, the one Minato used to sleep in before marrying Kushina and focused her efforts on caring for the boys in the house, especially the newborn.

Harry still stopped by the hospital every day, peeking into the array chamber, making sure Minato was still breathing. His days fell into a routine. He'd wake, and Rin would be there, breakfast made, Naruto in her lap. She'd send him off to the Academy and he'd go, brushing his hand over Naruto's head before he left, feeling the heat of the boy like Kushina had felt to touch, like Harry felt sparking deep inside himself now. Harry knew what that heat was, and found a strange, undeniable connection between the three of them from it. Each of the three had the nine-tails tethered within them.

He wondered if he was as hot to the touch as Naruto was, as Kushina had been.

Then the Academy, classes and the yard, and he'd ignore the stares, the questions and speculations about the Hokage –

"You lived with him, didn't you?"

"What do you know about what happened?"

"The Third's taken the spot back, now, besides, the Fourth is gone!"

"I heard he gave his life to stop the fox."

"Nah, he's in hiding, recovering, he'll be back!"

"You think he killed it or something? My father says it was a force of nature, how can you kill a force of nature?

"Were you there? Where were you when it happened?"

Occasionally, Kabe or Idate or Lin would head off the worst of their classmates, only for Harry to slip out on them, away from the swarm that his peers had become and the noise they made about what they knew nothing about.

He'd leave the Academy with minimal social interaction and wander through the hospital's hallways and watch Minato for a few minutes. Sometimes, one of the medics assigned there would tell him how he was doing. It was the same thing every time.

"He's stable, there's no change."

They thought this was a good thing, that the blonde would be lucky to wake at all, and more than a few of them expected him to never wake. Harry found it entirely pessimistic, and stopped asking for updates.

His evenings were spent at home; dinner with Rin and Naruto, and Kakashi if he was home from his maddening array of missions. Harry knew the two were keeping an eye on him, watching him carefully, making sure he ate. But Harry didn't have any trouble eating, he just wanted Minato to wake up, and Kushina to come back…

Then Harry would wander out to the yard and move through the numbing taijutsu forms from the Academy, or once or twice he'd meet up with Itachi on the Uchiha field, and they'd challenge each other's skills and run through endless braces of projectiles.

It was the times in the yard that Harry felt most like himself again and not so distracted by his loss. He would get lost in the motions and rhythms of the katas, and the sun would set before Harry made it back to the house again where he'd slip into his room where Rin had laid an often fussy Naruto on a futon. Harry would curl up beside the baby, wrapping his body around him, and they'd both sleep.

o-

Change to his half-lived routine came in the form of Jiraiya the Sannin two months after The Last Night. The tall man stepped into Harry's head-bowed walk out of the Hospital and only the sight of his stilted sandals had Harry stopping before running straight into him. He blinked and then followed the man's body all the way up to his face. He had never seen the usually jovial man look so grim before.

Jiraiya stared down at him with a pensive look that slowly morphed into something determined.

"Alright, kid," he said, crossing his arms over his wide chest. "We've got a problem and it's not solving itself."

Harry just stared back at him and then made to move around him.

"Oh no you don't!" Jiraiya said, grabbing the back of his collar and spinning him right back to the spot he had started in. Harry frowned and shrugged the man's hand off.

"You can't keep going like this, kid," Jiraiya told him. Before Harry could respond or attempt to go around the man again, Jiraiya gripped the back of his jacket and with a grunt hauled him up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Harry made a sound of protest, which only made the man grip his knees and stalk down the street. Harry struggled, but the Sannin was unconcerned with him, and by the time the man crossed out of the outer neighborhoods of the village into the training yards, Harry had given up on slipping from the man's hold.

Jiraiya finally let him down, none too gently, in the middle of a grass-covered clearing. Harry glanced around, eyeing the tall trees and the narrow stream that fed into a wide calm lake and the chain-link fence in the distance that marked the training ground's entrance into which Jiraiya had marched them.

"Training Ground Three," Jiraiya told him, looking around fondly. "My Genin team trained here, years ago, under the Third. He wasn't the Third, then." Jiraiya trailed off, eyeing the stream with evidence of old memories playing behind his eyes. "And I trained my Genins here, Minato among them. And Minato trained his brats here too."

Harry looked around the training grounds again, taking in the place with more interest. The trees bore evidence of strikes, of swords, and there was a crater on the other side of the stream where the grass no longer grew. Three solid wooden posts were buried in the clearing, looking worn and enduring both weather and Shinobi training over years, maybe even decades. Over the trees, he could spot the top edge of the Hokage Monument, the four faces partially obscured, but still overseeing the stretch of forest and training grounds that encircled the village and its tall walls. He could see the Fourth's profile, which faced directly over the village, as if watching over the buildings and all their residents.

"Will he wake up?" Harry finally asked.

Jiraiya let out a long, loud breath. "That kid…" he seemed to be both very fond and very exasperated. "He's stubborn. Got a will and determination beyond anyone else I've ever met, except maybe Kushina. If he wants to wake up and live, then he will."

Harry thought about that, recalling Kushina's fiery determination and colorful hair that was a match to Minato's glacial will and sunny smile. "What if he doesn't want to?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Jiraiya countered. "He's got you and Naruto to live for, and all the village, too."

"But Kushina's –"

"He loved that girl," Jiraiya cut him off. "Never mistake that! He gave her his heart. But you better believe he loves you and Naruto, too. You two are his heart. Kushina gave him both of you. And this village," he made a wide, all-inclusive gesture. "Konoha is his soul. Don't worry, kid. He'll wake. He's just looking to make a flashy entrance, the dramatist. He always did like making a scene, not that he'd ever admit to it."

Harry felt something like a smile tug at his lips and he turned from the Fourth's stone profile to look at the tall man next to him. Jiraiya had crouched down, resting his elbows on his knees and was looking up at the Monument over the trees like Harry had done.

"I wish he'd hurry up," Harry said, summing up his feelings on the matter.

Jiraiya gave a gruff snort and looked down at him. "Me too, kid. Me too."

Harry sighed and pulled his legs under him from the sprawl that Jiraiya had landed him in, looking around the training grounds and eyeing the thick forest of trees especially.

"Here," Jiraiya said, catching his attention. "I've got something that'll help take your mind off things, and give you something to show off to Minato when he wakes up."

Harry watched the man pull the large scroll from his back, standing it on end between them. It stood as tall as the man's waist, which was almost at the same height that Harry was. Harry eyed it top to bottom, and took in the man's stilted sandals, briefly wondering if he wore the same, if he'd look at all taller.

"What do you know of summoning, kid?"

Harry furrowed his brow and pushed thoughts of foot-high stilts out of his mind. "It requires a contract," he said, not knowing much of the subject at all. Lin had mentioned it before, on more than one occasion, stating that her family, the Ky Li's held a summoning contract. Harry had seen Minato summon toads on numerous occasions, usually to use the little amphibians as quick messengers between he and Jiraiya to wherever the old man got to when he wasn't in the village.

"It's a form of sealing arts," Harry said.

"Correct on both counts," Jiraiya tapped the scroll, leaning it to one side a little. "This is a Summoning Contract with the Toads of Mount Myoboku. I'm going to let you sign it, kid," Jiraiya looked at him critically from the corner of his eyes, "But you'll have to prove your own worth to the toads or they'll never answer your summons."

Harry looked over the large scroll, wondering how he would have to prove himself to a race of amphibians.

"Think you can manage that, kid?"

Harry shrugged one shoulder. "What do I have to do to prove myself?"

"Who knows?" Jiraiya said, pulling the scroll up with both hands so that it was horizontal over Harry's head. "Depends on who you manage to summon."

Harry watched as the man waved the large, undoubtedly heavy scroll around with a dramatic flair. It unfurled with a long, waving curl, and settled across the ground at Harry's feet. Jiraiya gestured to it with a great sweep of his arm that Harry had to duck under or else risk having his head knocked about.

"Behold! The Great Summoning Contract of Mount Myoboku!"

Harry looked up from the list of names on the scroll long enough to give the man a flat, unimpressed look.

Jiraiya was undeterred, and simply handed him a bamboo brush. "Use sealing ink," he told him, "you know what it is?"

Harry nodded. Minato and Kushina had both taught him of the sealing arts, each using slightly differing methods from each other. Kushina's seals were deep, intuitive things that used blood, pure and simple to script lines and circles that formed the arrays. Minato's sealing methods were more complex, more logical, making leaps between concentric circles and radiating lines of scripts that utilized his speed and lightning affinity to its maximum potential. The Hiraishin was a prime example. Harry still hadn't figured out how it worked.

"Blood or Blood Ink?" Harry asked, running the tips of his fingers down the blank space at the end of a long list of names – a couple of them he recognized, some were foreign names that revealed a clan full of toads.

"Either."

Harry nodded and with a kunai from his leg pouch, he sliced a line down the pad of his palm. He let the blood pool in his cupped hand and with the brush, he wrote out his name in the space provided, carefully writing the lines of kanji that named him: Uzumaki Hisui.

The scroll slid and rolled up as soon as he had finished and left Jiraiya standing over him, using the large thing as a sort of crutch or cane. Harry wiped his hand on the grass, pushed the knuckles of his hand into the cut to help stem the blood flow and waited for more instructions. Jiraiya told him how to cast the summoning technique in quick, easy directions. Harry didn't think it sounded at all difficult.

"You'll need blood. The more chakra you infuse into the summoning, the larger the summons you can call," Jiraiya told him. "Everyone summons a different toad their first time, I think. I'm curious who yours will be."

"Who did Minato summon?"

"Gamahiro," the man said, looking proud and a bit amused. "One of Gamabunta's, that's the Boss Toad, one of his brothers. Scared Minato to falling right off his head. The silly kid apparently hadn't expected a toad to be the size of a mountain."

Harry didn't expect a toad to be the size of a mountain, either, but he realized he was probably going to have to reevaluate what he knew of toads.

"Go on then!"

Harry gave the man an exasperated look but did as he was told, forming the hand seals with practiced precision, not bothering to hurry, feeling his chakra stir and the waters in his mind rise to a simmer and he slammed his bloodied – though no longer cut – left hand onto the ground.

"Kuchiose no jutsu," he called out. There was a strange push-pull on the well in his mind, and small bit of thick smoke puffed out from between his fingers and – that was it.

Harry stared at the spot under his hand in confusion.

"Huh," Jiraiya said from over his head. "That's about expected."

Harry frowned, starting to feel quite annoyed and also distracted by the swirling well of waters in his mind. Something had stirred the fox up.

"Try it again, then," the Sannin directed.

Harry nodded, inspected the amount of blood still on his hand and determining it to be adequate he folded his fingers into the sign of the Ram.

"…not expecting too much, really," Jiraiya was mumbling as Harry tried to concentrate. "You're young and your chakra is still developing. Might not be able to do it for a few years. Who knows how lo –"

Harry ignored the man gabbing over his head, closed his eyes and pulled at the chakra in his mind. The chains of his chakra rattled and tolled and the well's waters simmered with the slack. A watery form of a fox's snout pushed up out of the water, pressing against the chains, hissing and sizzling.

Harry slammed his hand onto the ground.

"Kuchiose no jutsu," he intoned with quiet intensity, and watched as the dark scripts spread out from his palm across the ground in a swift array. They stretched out from him, under his feet, across the grass and dirt and suddenly a burst of smokey air rose around him and the ground surged under his feet.

Harry gripped at the rising surge of rock that nearly took off his head, and wobbled at the sudden force of upward movement, but he didn't fall. As the smoke from the technique began to thin in the winds, he saw that the stones he had gripped weren't stones at all, but rather short protrusions of horn, brilliantly blue and he had his hands wrapped around one in something of a death grip. He stood slowly, not letting go of the horn, and eyed the slowly revealed body of the toad beneath him.

It was large, though Harry wouldn't say it was as big as a mountain, not even the Hokage Monument. Harry was now almost as tall as the Konoha trees, though. The toad was mostly a dark sort of aqua, a color like deep tropical waters, and it was decorated with swirls of deep blues down the sides and brilliantly blue horns that stretched back in rough lines over its eyes and tapered away down its rocky back. It was rather squat with long limbs and seemed to be wider than it was tall. Three rods of thick polished wood the size of small trees were strapped to the toad's back, held in place with a corral-colored sash. Curved blades rose from the ends of the poles, looking like cresting waves and as deadly as a tsunami.

"Woo hoo!" Jiraiya's voice called from somewhere below. The man called the toad something Harry wasn't familiar with.

"I don't know that word, Jiraiya-sama," Harry said, leaning over the side of the wide toad from the horn. "Is that its name?"

"No, no," Jiraiya said as the toad shifted under Harry, as if it just then noticed it had a passenger. "He's a toad of the sea, a sea toad, called sea devils - Ankou. Kinda rare nowadays, I was led to believe. What's your name," Jiraiya asked the blue toad, "We've not met before!"

The toad moved and a rumbling voice echoed across the clearing, laced with something like irritation. "Sankakunami," it said.

Harry heard Jiraiya let out a low moan, and barely caught the man's words. "Oh, you've done it now, kid. Had to go and summon a boss of the waves."

Harry wasn't sure he caught the name correctly, or would be able to pronounce it anyways. The boss toad rolled its head upward and Harry caught sight of one bright yellow eye, staring at him through the gaps of the horned ridge over its eye. "And who are you, little brat?"

Harry frowned, but responded anyways. "Uzumaki Hisui, Nami-sama."

"Nami-sama! Appropriate!" the toad exclaimed, "for I am named for the waves!" The toad seemed inordinately pleased. "Uzumaki," the toad rolled the name out long, as if tasting it. "You summoned me, little Uzumaki?"

"Yes," Harry said, still frowning at being called little. He didn't think the toad was especially polite.

The toad hummed and Harry could feel the vibrations of the noise rattle up his legs.

"Who gave you our contract?"

Harry pointed his arm out over the toad's eye, down to Jiraiya who stood looking up at the sea toad with his hands on his hips. The toad's eye rolled back down to the man.

"I've heard of you, Jiraiya the Sannin, Sage of Toads," Nami-sama said, sounding utterly unimpressed by what he saw in the man. Harry tended to agree with the toad. Jiriaya didn't really look like anything special, more like a lazy, over-grown bird…

Jiraiya either didn't catch the toad's tone or ignored it entirely, striking a dramatic pose that Harry knew was only the prelude to a grand statement proclaiming the man's awesomeness.

The toad didn't give him time to even get started.

"Can you swim, little Uzumaki?" it asked, raising the front of its body and tilting the surface Harry stood on. It didn't let Harry answer either, before it suddenly crouched low and sprung up in a great leap. Harry gripped the horn, glad he hadn't let go of it and that his shoulder was healed up. He rode out the winds, squinting and trying to judge the toad's trajectory, fearing he knew exactly where its jump was going to land them.

He was right. Sankakunami landed in the center of the lake with a great splash, displacing water in white-capped waves and sinking like a stone. Harry sucked in a startled, almost panicked breath as the waters closed over his head.

The Sea Boss's idea of testing Harry seemed to involve very deep water, swift directional changes in turbulent underwater streams and sudden jumps over the surface, skipping across large, choppy waves only to sink back into the sea. Harry wasn't sure when the sea toad had transported them from the little lake in the Konoha training ground to the ocean but it was very obvious that it had been done.

Harry simply gripped the horn with legs and arms, breathed deep breaths of air whenever the toad surfaced and rode out the fanatical jaunt through the storm-ridden waters.

Then the toad dove deep, through the high waves and into darker waters, spitting out a stream of bubbles as they sank. Harry didn't think the toad had any intention of surfacing again for a good while, and the rising fear of drowning nearly convinced him to let go of the toad and take his chances on reaching the surface on his own. But the distant streaming light of the dull sun was far away and even the motion of the waves had faded with their depth, and Harry could hardly tell they were even sinking anymore. Sankakunami floated, slowly moving through the water with no effort, occasionally letting out bubbles that would drift past Harry's body and up to the surface, far above them.

Harry stared up at the depth of water above him, the distant sun and waves then looked down to the dark depths that they were sinking into. He ignored his body's demands for air and the stinging of the salt in his eyes. He gripped the horn, his hold tightening on reflex in his rising panic and fast waning air.

One of the toad's released bubbles floated up and hit him square in the face. It stuck to his face, wrapping around his head in a semi-slimy wet hold and the shock of it made him suck in a short gasp. Air filtered into his lungs and Harry froze.

Oxygenated air filled the bubble wrapped around his head. He stared through the distorted view that the pocket of air gave him and took a breath, letting old air out and pulling in oxygen slowly, cautiously. It was damp air, and salty and laced with something that was probably chakra but it gave him the oxygen he needed. He held the air in just as the bubble swayed and burst into a small cloud of little spheres, floating up over his head. Harry grinned, eyeing the occasional trails of air that the toad released from the corners of it wide mouth.

Sankakunami was giving him a way to breathe underwater with him.

Harry timed it carefully as the toad continued to let the waters of the sea carry them and as his lungs began to burn and the toad let loose another stream of bubbles, Harry leaned over and put his head in their path. When the bubble struck his face and molded around his head he wasn't surprised, and he grinned as he breathed in oxygenated air.

The Sea Boss rumbled under him, but Harry couldn't quite catch his words, then the toad began to swim. They moved through the waters with great, powerful strokes, following the dim contours of the sea floor, trailing long colorful lines of rising reefs and scattering schools of brilliantly colored fish. Harry was entranced, fascinated by the sights of the depths of the warm waters of the sea, and the life that the toad showed him. Kushina's songs of the sea filtered through his mind, the songs that she used to sing to him, and he smiled a sad smile as he hummed the tunes, breathing through the rising pockets of air the toad gave to him, soaking in the sights of the reefs.

The sea toad surfaced in a calm lagoon surrounded by tall, steep hills that rose out of the waves and rolled up onto a dramatic, mountainous shore. They floated on the surface of clear water that was far deeper than it looked. Scatterings of colorful fish swam around them, having followed them from the reef they had crossed from the open sea to the lagoon waters. Harry breathed in deep and slow and steady, taking in the warm salty air of the ocean that was incredibly fresh after the salty damp scent that the toad's bubbles offered.

"Well done, little Uzumaki," the toad said, then spit out a stream of water from its mouth. It arced before them, sending a mist that revealed a shimmering rainbow in the sunlight. Harry wondered where the storm went to, having not noticed when it faded, being under the surface of the water for so long.

"I am Sankakunami, the Boss of the Waves of Myoboku. If you have real need of me," the toad continued, paddling in the water lazily, "I will answer your summons."

"Thank you, Nami-sama," Harry said, and for the first time, released his grip on the toad's horn. His shoulder was sore, deeply so, but he felt the dull ache to be well worth the use of his arm. He sat cross-legged atop his head, tired and worn and soggy. Sankakunami rolled his eyes up to look at him, and Harry thought the toad was amused. They remained that way, the toad paddling in the water, the sea lapping around them, Harry humming songs of the sea. The sun sunk lower under the distant bank of clouds, sending the sky into a riot of fiery colors that contrasted the rainbow shades of blues and greens of the lagoon and the bright greens of the forests that crawled up the shore.

"If a lesser need arises," the toad said, "call my brother, Namimani."

Harry nodded, and since the toad was no longer looking at him said, "Yes, of course."

"Good."

The toad dived suddenly, and before Harry could get a grip on the toad again the waters closed over him in a turbulent wave. He lost his purchase and was left flailing in the swirling waters, hardly able to see as the motion stirred up sand and waters into a cloud. He kicked and felt his head break the water's surface. He shook water out of his hair and looked around for the toad.

"Hisui!"

The toad was nowhere to be seen, not even in the depths of the little lake, but Jiraiya was wading into the shallows, yelling and waving at him and the tall trees of Hi no Kuni rose up around them, not quite hiding the view of the Hokage Monument over the foliage. Harry sunk and swam towards the shore, looking one more time into the depths of the lake for the sea toad.

Sankakunami wasn't there and Harry pulled himself into the shallow water tiredly.

"Hisui," Jiraiya called again, and suddenly the man was next to him, gripping his shoulder and hauling him up onto the shore and out of the lake. Harry let him, too tired to shake him off and rather grateful for the support. He was exhausted. And very very wet.

"What the hell happened to you?"

o-

Namimani proved to be considerably smaller than his older brother. Harry summoned the toad a couple days later, back at Training Ground Three alone. It took him five tries before his chakra cooperated and it left him shaky and the waters in his mind agitated and simmering in anger. They continued to slosh around the well's deep cavern, driving Harry to distraction.

The small sea toad was only really small in comparison to Sankakunami, for Namimani was still taller than Harry and much larger than his original ideas of how big toads should be.

"Heyo," the sea-green toad greeted. He was almost the same color as Sankakunami, just lighter, brighter, with smaller horns on the ridges over his eyes and the green swirls along his sides were in a more playful pattern.

"Hello," Harry said. "I'm –"

"The Little Uzumaki, I know," the toad interrupted. Harry frowned, recognizing that he'd gained a title in being The Little Uzumaki and not sure that he liked it much.

"You're Namimani, then," Harry said.

"Yup!"

Harry stared at the toad, taking in the brilliant corral sash and the three wooden poles across the toad's back. Namimani's weapons weren't bladed, and the wood color was lighter, as if made from a different sort of tree than his brother's, possibly even bamboo, except they were solid.

"Whatcha need?" the toad asked, rolling his words together in a manner that Harry found a little difficult to follow.

"I wanted to meet you," Harry said, ignoring the toad's unimpressed look. "I didn't think it would be polite to summon you in a fight without having ever met you before."

"I wouldn't have minded," the toad said, shifting his wide feet over the grass and dirt of the training ground. He rolled his eyes towards the lake, and looked rather uncomfortable at being out of the water.

Harry eyed the lake as well, feeling a little disconnected from his own summons. He had thought that he and Sankakunami had at least found something that they had agreed upon – the beauty of the depths of the sea, but he had no connection to the littler brother.

"I was also curious if you would want to train with me," Harry ventured. "Perhaps we could teach each other something –"

"You think you know something worthwhile, Little Uzumaki?" the toad asked, suddenly looking back at him.

Harry's frown returned but before he could defend himself, the toad spoke again.

"How old are you? You look like a little kid, have you even had any training yet?"

"Some –"

"Can you even swim Tadpole?"

Harry paused at the new nickname, eyeing the aqua and green toad speculatively. Tadpole huh?

"All Tadpoles have tails," Harry said, watching the toad closely and lacing his words with a touch of derision. The toad heard it and rumbled wordlessly.

"Jump?"

"Higher every day," Harry said, "and my legs are still growing."

Namimani hummed low and thoughtful.

"Can you stand on the waves?"

Harry cocked his head to the side and the toad took that as a negative, his wide mouth splitting into a sardonic grin.

"Give me waves and I'll learn to surf," Harry countered, daring the toad to deny him again.

"Oo, oh really, Tadpole?"

Harry just stood his ground and stared the toad down. Their heights were even and while he couldn't meet the toad eyes to eyes, he was able to stare down one of the toad's bright yellow eyes. Namimani stared back and suddenly burst out a loud, croaking laugh.

"Ho oh! You're a feisty one!" the toad said through his laughter. It was laughing so deeply that it had crouched low to the ground, encircling its belly with one webbed foot. "Brother didn't tell me you had such spirit!"

Harry watched the toad laugh with a small frown, wondering what exactly, was so funny.

"Alright, Tadpole," the toad said, calming his laughter some. "I'll give you waves to surf."

"Thanks," Harry said, not sure if he really meant it or not. Something about Namimani told him he might regret asking for the waves. Considering Sankakunami's sudden transportation to a storm-ridden ocean reef, who knew where the little brother toad would take them.

The toad chuckled. "Learn to walk on water, Tadpole," it told him, pointing to the lake with its webbed foot. "And then call me again. I'll teach you to ride on the waves."

Harry eyed the lake then the toad. "You're not going to stay?"

"Nope! But summon me if you need me. I'll fight for you, Tadpole."

The toad disappeared in a damp fog that smelt of salt and sand, leaving behind echoing last words, "I like you, Tadpole."

Harry sighed and made his way to the lake, wondering if water walking was as hard to learn as tree climbing was.

o-

Jiraiya found his attempts to walk on water quite amusing. Harry, who was quite soggy after multiple failed attempts, found the man perched in a tree laughing at him to be highly annoying. After an hour of dunking himself in the lake, Harry trudged over to the tree the pot-bellied owl that called itself a man was perched in. Jiraiya watched him, chuckling and Harry glared at the man from the ground.

"You look wet, Tadpole," Jiraiya quipped, using Namimani's nickname for him. Harry frowned, still irked that the man had witnessed his encounter with the green sea toad. Jiraiya had poofed into existence behind him after Namimani left, grumbling about Harry's luck at summoning sea toads, which according to the Sannin, were a grumpy lot. Harry rather agreed after meeting the brothers, but was still a little annoyed with the man's eavesdropping.

"It's harder than it looks," Harry grumbled, shaking his head and sending a spray of water out from his hair.

"It's not that hard," Jiraiya countered. Harry sent him a glare. "Well, you are skipping a step or three, you know. Going straight to water walking. Have you mastered tree climbing at all yet? Or leaf throwing?"

"Leaf throwing?" Harry hadn't heard of that exercise yet.

"Sure, leaf throwing. Step three of chakra control," Jiraiya said. He plucked a leaf out of the branches around his head and threw it. Instead of flopping about in the air though, as Harry expected, the leaf shot into the ground like a spinning shuriken and just as sharp. He stared at the quivering leaf buried in the dirt.

"Not all that strong, and it won't go through armor or nothing, but dead useful at times, especially in large numbers," the man said. "Better when you do the same trick to a metal shuriken though."

Harry would have to agree. He crouched down and pulled the leaf out of the ground. It ripped, and he was left with only half of the oval shaped leaf.

"It doesn't last long," he commented, letting it flutter back to the ground. "What's stage one and two?"

"The chakra bursts you learn at the Academy, and the leaf concentration exercise."

Harry nodded, thinking of the chakra exercises they learned and practiced at the school. It seemed overly simple and a big leap from uncontrolled bursts of chakra to leaf throwing, but he could almost abstractly see the connection. The chakra bursts they practiced were designed to get the students aware of their own chakra, what it felt like, and how to channel it. Hand seals were a large part of that channeling, and helped to focus the design and intent of the chakra and mold it into a shape. Chakra bursts were simple applications, letting loose little bits of chakra through two-hand seals. And the concentration exercise required a steady application of that chakra to hold the leaf to one's forehead. The Academy students had a wide range of success rates with molding chakra, and Harry tended to fall somewhere in the middle of his peers at the skill – or at least, he used to. He couldn't give out a steady stream of chakra at all anymore, not since the fox.

He picked up a fallen leaf and turned the fragile thing over in his hand.

"Try the seal of the Ram," Jiraiya commented from his perch.

Harry didn't bother to look at the man and followed his advice, folding his fingers around each other, the leaf held between his hands, into the seal of the Ram. He focused inward, pulling at his chakra, prodding it awake. The waters in his head rippled and Harry prodded them back into submission while simultaneously trying to pull his own chakra to his bidding. The dichotomy was tiring and wore on his concentration, distracting him and puling his attention into two different directions.

He pulled chakra to the leaf in his hands and his restraint over the waters in the well slipped and they boiled, sending a spray of hot red water into the air of his mindscape. The leaf burst in his hands, and he sucked in a startled breath, staring as the leaf fell in a fine shower of shredded green. His hands were wet, splattered with green-tinted splashes of water. He frowned at the result and shook out his hands.

His control of his chakra had always been a little better than mediocre compared to his classmates, but ever since the night the nine-tails flooded his mind Harry's skill had slipped drastically to the bottom of his class. He just couldn't quite split his attention completely between restraint and letting loose. It always seemed to be one or the other. The times that he did manage to channel chakra it burst out of him like a small bomb going off. It was like he had too much power for the use of the exercises, and he couldn't strain it down into something manageable.

"Maybe you should try a bigger leaf," Jiraiya commented. Harry glanced up at him and caught sight of the man's intense look. He was watching him carefully, almost warily, but the look faded behind a grin quickly. "Keep practicing, Tadpole," he quipped, jumping down from the tree. "You'll get it eventually."

Jiraiya ruffled his hair and wandered off. Harry watched him disappear into the trees towards the ground's entrance before turning back to the tree and all its leaves.

He had a feeling he was going to need quite a few.

o-

A couple of days after Harry's encounters with the toads, Jiraiya hauled him to the Konoha Hospital and the waiting Tsunade. Harry hadn't encountered the woman much. She seemed to wander in and out of the room Minato laid in at odd times, but never spoke to Harry if he was sitting within the chamber, despite eyeing him as she worked.

Jiraiya pushed him into a room that looked like a standard check up room, and Harry spotted the medic by the window almost immediately. She was standing akimbo with her fists on her hips, staring down at him with a critical eye. Her heeled sandals gave her some considerable height over him and Harry frowned back up at her.

"Here he is," Jiraiya announced as he closed the three in the room. "I don't think he's gotten a proper check up since the attack…"

The man trailed off and Harry turned his frown from the woman to the Sannin.

"Minato will string me up somewhere if he found out I didn't make sure you were healthy, kid," he told Harry. "Not that he'd succeed of course, but he'd try, the stubborn brat."

"Oh, he'd succeed, I'm sure," Tsunade quipped, "you've gotten slow in your age old man." Then before Jiraiya could respond beyond indignant sputters she spoke to Harry, "So you're Kushina's cousin? An Uzumaki?"

Harry nodded.

She eyed him a moment longer then waved a manila folder in the air. "Your medical history is sorely lacking, brat, and I intend on fixing that." She grinned, the edges of it a little dark or feral. "Right now."

Harry's frown only deepened as she pointed to the medical table with the clear indication that he should sit on it. His feet shifted, his mind contemplating the merits and chances of escaping out the door – guarded by Jiraiya – or the window – past the grinning medic.

"Sit!" she said, still pointing at the table and raising her eyebrows.

Harry wasn't much fond of doctors or hospitals or school nurses. They meant well he supposed, but they had only ever really caused him trouble with the Dursleys. Harry had learned to avoid the careful attentions of the school nurse at Primary very quickly. Vernon and Petunia had not been happy to get a phone call from the rotund lady asking them about Harry's bruises.

Harry had merely received a new bruise later that evening, having not been quick enough to duck Vernon's angry swipe at his head upon entering the house after school. He had had a ringing headache for most of that night and burned the bacon to boot. Petunia had not been pleased.

Harry had been dragged out of the kitchen by his ear and promptly locked in his cupboard, hungry and hurting.

No, he was only wary of the attentions of doctors.

Jiraiya and Tsunade didn't give him any option to escape them, however. He took a side-step, opting for his chances with the window, knowing that Jiraiya's long arms would scoop him up before he made two steps towards the door. Tsunade took two sudden strides forward, gripped the back of his jacket and lifted him straight up off the floor. Harry stared at the empty meter of space under his feet before scowling at the woman. She sneered back at him, holding him up so their noses were at the same level without her bending down at all.

Harry wondered how in the world she had the strength to do that. Then he wondered why adults seemed to always use the scruff of his jacket to haul him around all the time.

Tsunade plopped him down atop the table with nary a by-your-leave and none too gently.

"Sit," she commanded, poking the top of his thigh with a hard jab of her finger.

"You can't beat her, kid," Jiraiya commented, taking up residence against a wall and grinning at him.

Harry hunched his shoulders and pouted, feeling a bit like a scolded puppy.

She got right down to business. "Any medical conditions, allergies, or past injuries I should know about?"

Harry didn't answer right away, so Jiraiya did for him, taking his silence for what it was: rebellion.

"Kushina took him in a couple years ago, from outside the Elemental Nations," the man informed the woman, "I don't know if they got him in for a standard medical check at the time."

"They didn't," Tsunade said with a frown at the file in her hand. "Only after his first stay in the Hospital –"

Harry remembered that first stay, back only a few months after he had arrived in Konoha. He didn't remember much of the first days, too tired and pained, but he remembered the boredom of the last days, and the lingering flu-like symptoms, and moreso he remembered why he had spent over a week in Konoha's Hospital.

Orochimaru.

"Shortly after Orochimaru got his hands on him," Jiraiya glanced warily at Harry but he didn't react to the mention of his time held by the mad Shinobi. Harry's nightmares of that time had almost completely gone, and he didn't remember much from the experience regardless. Minato's seal had dulled the stark emotions from the nightmares and they faded over the months. Harry only got them once in a while since, and hadn't had a night terror since the nine-tails. "He had the kid for a month, as I understand it. No one really knows what that slimy little snake did, except give him a Cursed Seal. Minato used the Fuja Hoin on it, that's about all I know."

The medic was silent and grave for a long while, staring in Jiraiya's general direction but clearly not really seeing the man. Harry wondered, then, if she had known Orochimaru or any of the man's other captives.

"Have you looked at it recently?" she asked finally, turning her eyes to look over Harry, lingering on his shoulder.

"No."

"Do so." Tsunade poked Harry's leg again. "Well, brat? Any other past injuries?"

Harry just shrugged, figuring she wouldn't really care to hear about every bruise and scrape he'd garnered over the years. Why, his knuckles were still taped from his katas against the wooden dummy that morning, and he had a nice slice on his thigh, not far from where she kept poking him, from a too-hasty and sloppy pull of a kunai from his leg holster during the Academy yard practices yesterday. It was already healed up and scabbed over, anyways. And did she really want to know about old scars from car accidents that happened when he was a baby? It was just too many injuries to name. They'd be there all day long.

Tsunade finally just nodded, apparently unconcerned and began her check up. Harry sat through it mulishly, doing as she directed but betraying how much he didn't like it all on his face. The woman expertly ignored his glower and went about her bending of limbs and poking of ribs and she even stuck her pinky finger into both his ears which made him twitch both times.

It wasn't until she had him lay back on the bed and splayed her hand over the center of his chest that her face went from almost-bored to suddenly intense. She stared at her hand, or his chest under her hand, with an utterly shocked look.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, lifting his hand to poke at his ribs near her hand.

Tsunade blinked out of her surprised daze and removed her hand, only to place it over his belly. Her intense look only got worse and Harry felt a curious tickling sensation ripple through his middle that set the waters in his mind to a boil.

Harry sucked in a startled breath at the internal reaction, and sucked his belly in, away from her fingers even as he began to retreat into his mind. He caught a vague glimpse of the well, its red waters simmering under the glowing netting that held it in. A wafting scent of copper and smoke drifted across his senses and heat coiled in his chest, and Harry wondered if the fox would try to escape him.

But the waters settled without him having to do anything.

Tsunade's stern voice called him back out again. The medic had crossed her arms over her ample chest and was squinting her eyes at him speculatively. Harry endured her gaze, glancing once at Jiraiya still in his corner.

"What it is?" Jiraiya asked. Tsunade didn't remove her eyes from Harry and seemed to be weighing something in her mind. Finally she held up a fist and raised two fingers.

"First, Jiraiya," she said, turning her head towards the man but still staring at Harry. "How much would you say Hisui weighs?"

"Hmm? His weight? I don't know, maybe three stone?"

Tsunade scooped Harry up by the scruff of his neck again. The suddenness of it made him suck in a startled breath, flailing his arms up at her hand in surprise at being hefted around like a kitten. The woman was able to lift him with seemingly no effort, and it was rather disconcerting for him. She hefted him, raising and lowering her arm in a way that jostled his body like a sack of potatoes and Harry finally had enough of it.

"Oi!" He called out, slamming his forearm against her own. She didn't drop him, however, so Harry went another route. He lifted his arms up over his head, relaxed, and slid right out of his jacket. He landed in a crouch and scuttled away from her.

He needn't have bothered with the distance. She let him go, with an amused, curious look. Harry put his back to the window and stared the two down balefully, annoyed at having been forced to sacrifice his beloved jacket.

"He has her spirit," Tsunade commented.

"I'm still waiting to see the temper," Jiraiya said, chuckling. "Kushina was as hot-headed as she was red-headed."

"Yes, indeed," the medic said, still watching Harry but making no more moves to poke at him. She turned back to Jiriaya suddenly. "He weighs almost three times that of a normal child of his height and build should."

The man's eyes got quite wide and he gaped at her. "Three times –"

"About nine stone, give or take," Tsunade said, "A little less perhaps."

"How is that – nine stone!"

Tsunade turned speculating eyes back to Harry, who was slightly less defensive now and was more curious. "He's also got the heaviest bone density that I've ever seen. Most of his weight stems from his skeletal structure, which his muscles have had to change to accommodate. It's really quite remarkable. You didn't notice that he has the weight of a full grown man?" She accused Jiraiya.

"I don't think I've ever picked him up."

Harry distinctly remembered being hauled about like a sack of potatoes but didn't bother reminding the Sannin of that. Before Jiraiya, Kushina was probably the last to carry his weight, but only on her lap. Otherwise Minato had carried him through his Hiraishin, but Harry figured the man had been a bit distracted by the nine-tails to notice Harry's weight.

He wasn't quite sure he liked the idea of being so strange – his bones were heavier than normal? Maybe that was why he always sank like a stone when he tried to walk on water.

"How's your training, Hisui-kun?" Tsunade asked, gaining his attention.

Harry rolled one shoulder in a half shrug. "Fine," he said.

"Any abnormal muscle strain or soreness? Do you tire easily with physical exercises?"

"No."

Tsunade looked puzzled and unconvinced.

"I was really tired for a while after – in the Hospital the first time." Harry offered, still not quite willing to speak of his time spent in Orochimaru's clutches. The two in the room with him nodded, regardless, knowing what he was speaking of. "But the medics at the Hospital said it was the poisons, that it was flu symptoms. They went away a few weeks after I returned to the Academy."

"Was your training in the yards difficult at first, once you returned?"

Harry wasn't stupid. He had a pretty good idea where the woman was headed with her line of questions. He had been a little extra tired the first month or so after returning to the Academy. It felt like he had started all over, all his muscle and endurance gone in the month he had been held by the man, and the subsequent time recovering. Running made his legs feel heavy, throwing tired his arms quickly and he was easily winded during spars and tactics runs. It was like he was carrying around the running weights from class, except he hadn't been. Picking up the weights to run with them had only made it so much worse.

It had passed, in time, but Harry remembered his frustrations at the set back. It had repeated again after the fox's attack, but his tiredness and sore muscles faded faster.

He nodded in answer to her question and explained the extent of his body's reactions to both hospital stays. "You think Orochimaru did something."

"We discovered he's dabbled with genetic manipulations on children before," Jiraiya told him, his face stormy. "Just not on one so old. His last round of victims had been infants. Only one of them survived the tampering. But that was years ago."

"At the time… we hadn't known it was Orochimaru," Tsunade reminded the Sannin. "Its possible Hisui had a particular affinity to whatever genetic tampering he enacted. If their blood type was the same, or he used another's genetic code that was very similar…" Tsunade trailed off into thoughtful mumblings and Harry stopped trying to make sense of everything she was saying. It sounded like complex medical jargon.

"Who knows," she finally said, talking more to Jiraiya than to Harry. "Keep an eye on his weight, though. If he gains weight too fast his muscles and sinews won't be able to keep up. His body will crush itself." She turned suddenly to Harry, waving a finger at his nose. "Strength training for you!" She commanded. "Your bones are so heavy your muscles will need extra strength, just to hold your body up and together. Got it?"

Harry got it. Her words were enough to inspire a little fear in him; fear of his own body, but she also gave him a way to fight it, counter it, work with it, and that's all that Harry needed.

"On the plus side," she said, apparently deciding that she'd scared him enough, "it'll be extra difficult to break your bones, but also likely extra painful when it happens."

Harry frowned as the woman gave him a wide, smirking grin.

Then she held up her fist with two raised fingers again. Harry eyed her hand, watching as she lowered one finger and left one raised high.

"Second," she started, suddenly looking at Jiraiya very seriously. "He has a massive well of foreign chakra in him. Did you know he sealed part of nine-tailed fox?"

"What!?" Jiraiya's jaw hung a little slack and his eyes shifted jerkily between Harry and the woman.

"You didn't know?" the medic looked at him with disdain. "It's obvious as soon as you touch his chakra."

Jiriaya gave her a squinty-eyed look before turning it on Harry. "Is that what that was?"

Harry just watched the two, still a little wary and again thinking of escape out the window at his back. They didn't know he had half of the Nine-tails sealed in him?

"His chakra feels a lot like Kushina's did when she was the Jinchuriki," Tsunade commented, studying Harry curiously, "just considerably less…large. As if the nine-tails is much smaller."

"Or a half of it," Harry said.

Jiraiya looked as curious as his woman friend now. "Oh? How'd you manage that one, Tadpole?"

Harry shrugged, less keen on talking about that night than he was about Orochimaru's lab. At least he didn't remember Orochimaru's lab. He looked away from the two, fighting away his rising and stubborn grief and ignoring the simmering of the waters in his mind. "I helped hold Him," he said, very softly, his voice muffled by something deep in his throat. "Like Kushina could do. She helped me cut him in half. Minato sealed half in Naruto. I chained the other… in me."

The two adults were silent in the wake of his confession. He chanced a peek at Jiraiya and saw speculation and – was that – impressed? He looked at Tsunade and found similar, though she was more surprised and curious than impressed. Neither was angry or disappointed and Harry found himself relaxing a little.

"That's –" Tsunade started and trailed off, pinning Jiraiya with a sharp look. "Why wasn't I told he's got half of a tailed beast sealed inside of him?"

The Sannin held up his hands in surrender and warding. "I didn't know! Honest, I don't think anybody knew!"

Tsunade narrowed her eyes.

"The Third thinks half the fox is in Naruto," Jiraiya said. "He thinks Minato did something to cut the fox in half, sealed it away somewhere else. He thought it was that death seal - the Shiki Fujin, but Minato's still alive. The other half he sealed in his son. I had no idea the Tadpole could even use Kushina's chakra chains, let alone that he managed to seal half of the fox in himself as well. She was older when she took it on."

The medic smirked, obviously quite pleased with the resulting confession of information and turned her attention back to the Tadpole. Though she obviously wasn't speaking to him when she asked, "which half of the nine-tails do you think he sealed?"

Harry saw Jiraiya shrug in his peripheral vision, but he was more distracted on giving the medic a glowering look. He wasn't fond of being talked over and about when he was standing right there, thank you. He'd had enough of that with the Dursleys.

"No idea," Jiraiya said. "Could be either I suppose. Can you sense its nature?"

"Not accurately. Not without him using it." Harry could tell that bothered the medic. "Well?" she asked him.

Harry rolled his shoulders in a shrug. He didn't know which half he held, and what was the difference anyways? One half of a giant fox or the other? That was besides the fact that he was quite sure he wouldn't tell her anyways, if just to annoy her for hefting him.

"Can I have my jacket back?" he asked instead.

Jiraiya let out a loud guffaw and Tsunade just glared.

o-

"This juinjutsu still has some of its power," Jiraiya informed Harry. "You've definitely changed it somehow." The man poked and prodded at the point of the old bite, the now muscled flesh between Harry's neck and shoulder. Harry endured the poking with something of a defeated air. After Tsunade's check up, Jiraiya had put him right back up on the table to get a look at the cursed seal. He had exclaimed at the absence of the Fuja Hoin. Harry didn't know when it had broken, but he wagered it was when he caged half of the nine-tails and the fox flooded his mind. He wondered if Minato's Hiraishin mark was still there, or if it had gone with the breaking of the other.

"It was clearly once one of that bastard's juinjutsu," Jiraiya continued, "But you've gone and morphed it, kid."

Harry frowned at being the one blamed. It wasn't him who had affected the stupid cursed seal. He was quite sure that the nine-tails had everything to do with that. The Sannin descended into mumbling and Harry only caught bits and pieces – something about transformations and dark power and a kid with anger issues.

"I would reapply the Fuja Hoin, but I don't want to interfere with anything your doing in your head. Kushina was always real sensitive to seals put on her…"

"I'll be alright," Harry assured. He really wasn't worried about Orochimaru's snake. It was a worm in comparison to the mountainous half of fox. He would be more comfortable if he knew exactly where the snakes had gone off to, but he had his suspicions on that.

Jiraiya patted his shoulder and handed him his mesh shirt back.

"Be careful with this, kid," he said, watching Harry redress. "It tries to turn you to Orochimaru, like it whispers. It gives him control over you if you let it, feeding off your dark emotions. I wouldn't put it past him to be able to activate it if he was close enough to affect its power, no matter what you did to mutate it."

"It did use to hiss at me a lot," Harry said.

Jiriaya looked at him sideways. "Used to? It doesn't now?"

Harry shook his head.

"Why not?"

Harry pondered that for a moment, remembering the strange, watery battle over the nine-tail's will, when the red waters flooded his mindscape and left nothing but broken debris, mud and a deep, chained well.

"I think the nine-tails ate it," Harry said after a time.

Jiraiya blinked at him, stunned, before bursting into rolling laughter. Harry just sat and watched the older man, a smile growing on his face at his mirth.

"Oh hoo!" Jiraiya slapped his knee with a smack. "Wait until that little eel finds out. I wish I could see his face! His great and slippery control eaten! By a fox! By a piece of fox! Eaten!"

Jiraiya clearly found it very funny, or ironic, but Harry figured he was probably missing part of the joke. He didn't think it was that amusing.

o-

Harry was wandering through the village alone (though he suspected that Duck was nearby), on his way home from the Academy and the Hospital by a round-a-bout way when he caught sight of an idea. Rather, he passed by a shoe-shop and something in the window caught his eye. He paused in the street and stared at the sandals on display. They were a dark color with thick green straps and were very similar to Jiraiya's stilts. They weren't quite as tall, only as tall as Harry's hands were wide, but the green was brightly patterned against darker emerald and Harry liked them immediately.

He stared at them for a while, considering. He had a small amount of money, given him by either Minato or Kushina over the past year as allowance. Having never had such a thing before, nor any desire for something which he would spend it on, Harry had simply stashed it away, carrying only a small amount in case he and his friends stopped at a food stall.

He had never bought anything for himself though before.

Harry entered the shop to get a better look at the sandals. The shopkeeper watched him with attentive disinterest and Harry poked at the sandals in the window. They weren't actually made of wood, but of the same sturdy rubber material that his current sandals were made of. The green was even brighter without the window to dull its tone and with a quick judge of size, Harry grabbed them right out of the window and turned to the shopkeep.

"Interesting choice for a kid," was all the man said, taking his coin.

Harry scampered out of the shop and home, uncaring about the man's opinion of him.

The sandals were more difficult to walk in than he had anticipated. The two stilts under his foot shifted his balance a bit and he had to pick up his feet a little differently to keep them from catching on the ground. They clacked as he walked, making more noise than he liked. They did make him feel a lot taller though.

"The geta match your eyes," Rin told him, passing him Naruto and inspecting his new sandals. Her name for them was new to Harry, but he filed the word away. Harry held the growing baby to his shoulder, feeling the little blonde's fist grip at his jacket.

"I like them," she said, smiling at him. "They remind me of Jiraiya-sama a little, but they suit you Hisui-kun."

Harry smiled his thanks, already turning his attention to the boy in his arms. Naruto's body heat soaked through his jacket and comforted him in a way nothing else did. Haruto's head tucked into the crook of his neck and Harry felt immensely soothed.

"Pork for dinner tonight," Rin said, moving through the kitchen. "Kakashi should be home, so we'll wait a little to see if he is late or not, ok? He's been arriving late more often lately…" she trailed off with a growing frown.

"Ok," Harry said, moving out the back door with Naruto. He crouched down on the porch, settling down in the cooling evening air, whispering to the boy in his arms and telling him about all the colors of the fish in the sea that he had seen as he swam the reef with Sankakunami.

Naruto listened, interspersing his words with gurgles or coos, watching Harry with bright blue eyes and waving his little hands at his overgrown hair. Harry didn't bother to push his hair out of Naruto's reach, letting the little boy grip and pull at the white locks. He thought of Kushina and how she'd be fingering a kunai and talking of cutting it, but Harry couldn't bring himself to. For some reason, his lengthening hair reminded him of her, even as she would sit him down to cut it short again.

So he let the ear-length hair grow and spoke of the sea to his little brother, who gripped at his hair, bounced his feet on Harry's legs and listened to his voice, their mutual heat comforting each other.

o-

Namikaze Minato woke four months after the birth of his son and the death of his wife.

o-

**Author's Commentary: **Poor little Curse Seal. Eaten by a fox. Didn't it know that snakes and foxes don't get along?

**Wikipedia Tidbit:** 1 Stone is equal to about 14 pounds. The average, healthy weight for an eight-year-old boy is 55-60 pounds or about 4 stone. Comparatively: the average healthy weight for an adult male at 177 cm (5'10") should be between 140 and 175 pounds (roughly), which is 10 to 12.5 stone.

**From the Crystal Ball:**

"My parents were British," Harry said in his defense.

Hermione stopped suddenly, her fingers gripping his sleeve and hauling him to a stop just a pace in front of her. Harry turned enough to give her a questioning glance.

"You said that your family was from Japan – what was the province again?"

"Hisama Shima," Harry said, "the Elemental Countries."

"Yes, that," Hermione said, looking as if she was mentally jotting a note to remember it. Harry figured she probably was doing just that.

"When did I say that?" Harry asked not surprised that he would say such a thing, but not specifically remembering the incident.

"Last Tuesday."

Harry nodded and hummed a semi-agreeable sound.

"Why do you keep giving different answers?" she asked, "You've said your British, Japanese, or from Uzushio – and I still haven't figured out where that is!"

Harry watched as she listed off his varying answers about his heritage, fascinated as her hair frizzled out around her ears in her agitation.

"If you stop asking me I'll stop giving you false information," Harry offered.

Hermione gave him an incredulous and disapproving look. "Hisui, that's called lying."

"Fabricating," he insisted. "Basic Shinobi Art."

Hermione's Look did not fade. Not one bit.

"Violent-prone, mendacious shinobi," the girl grumbled, shaking her head and dragging him down the hallway by his sleeve. Harry turned her words over in his mind, wondering what mendacious meant and why people always insisted on leading him about by his arm like a dog on a leash.


	6. The Shadow of the Leaf

**EDITED:** April 2014. Mostly grammatical edits.

**And Then:** Sankakunami isn't the same level of boss as Gamabunta. He's quite a bit smaller actually. It's like if Gamabunta was King, then Nami-sama would be … an Earl or Count perhaps, like a lesser lord. All are from the Mount Myoboku region, which in my mind rolls into the sea.

Enter from Stage Right: Minato the Miracle.

o- **The Shadow of the Leaf** -o

By: Renatus

Namikaze Minato woke four months after the birth of his son and the death of his wife.

At the time Harry was buried in the wet mud of the shallows of the lake at Training Ground Three, a small, brilliantly green sea toad perched atop his head. In a nearby tree was Duck, lounging across a wide branch and half hidden by foliage. Harry could hear the occasional flipping of pages as the young ANBU didn't even bother to hide his morning's entertainment. Harry was about ready to be annoyed with the toads' continuous passing on of him, Namimani had denied working with him until he could walk on water, and Harry had the hardest time balancing his feet on the waves.

So Namimani had told Harry to summon his little brother, Konbu.

It was a task that took Harry half the morning to accomplish. He had an easier time with Namimani than Konbu, and had summoned the middle brother twice by accident. Namimani had proceeded to deliver a lecture about the uses of chakra regulation and control and disappeared with a rather firm bop to the top of Harry's head. Harry had sat down and struggled with the chains and the water and finally managed to use the right amount of chakra to summon the little Konbu.

Konbu was the same general shape and bright green color as his two older, and much larger, brothers, but he was about the size of a puppy or a large cat and had a strange fondness for burying himself in Harry's wild white hair, gripping the strands with sticky webbed feet.

He also liked sweets, anything with more sugar than nutrition, and demanded them often as payment for time spent away from his reef near Mount Myoboku.

Harry had learned quickly that plying the green toad with strawberry pocky was particularly effective in getting tips about how to charge leafs or soggy reed stalks with chakra, or how to balance on the ever-moving surface of the water.

It was harder than the tree climbing, which, nowadays, he always managed to over power and shoot himself off into the air like a rock out a slingshot. He had gotten very good at aerial flips and landing on his feet, but he still hadn't made it more than six or seven paces up the tree. And, tired of shredding leaves into fine confetti, Harry had returned to the pond. The landing was softer and the cool water helped diffuse his rising temper.

"You've got too much chakra," the toad said around the sweet covered pretzel. "Use less."

Of course Konbu's idea of tips didn't quite mesh with Harry's idea of usefulness.

He had been trying to use less chakra. Except whenever he tried to pull chakra out, the chains over the well shifted, the waters rippled, the nine-tails pushed at him, he'd push back and suddenly his little bit of chakra turned into a wave that would try to drown him.

"Put the Geta back on, Tadpole," Konbu told him. "Less surface area."

Harry frowned at his bare feet, buried in soggy mud under the shallow water, and then to his geta on the shore. The stilted sandals would give him far less surface area to coat in his chakra, that was sure. Each sandal only had two teeth, barely two finger widths wide.

Harry slogged back to dry ground, shedding mud and water as he went. He picked up the paper packaging of wrapped pocky and slid two more of the sticks out for the toad on his head. Konbu chirped a happy thanks and Harry was sure he felt crumbs fall into his hair.

Rubbing the worst of the mud off on the grass, Harry slipped the geta back on to his feet and returned to the water. Concentrating chakra to his feet had been difficult. Regulating it was an uphill battle. But moving his chakra past his feet into the solid, lifeless objects attached to his soles was something else entirely. It was a completely different feeling, pushing and controlling his chakra into the sandals rather than to the surface of his own body.

Once he managed it though, he stepped out onto the water, balanced the stilted sandals on the calm surface, concentrating on the chakra at the teeth, feeling it touch the water, pushing at it, bouncing back, rippling the surface and holding him up above it and in his elation he lost all concentration and he wobbled dangerously.

His sudden dunking into the lake sent up a splash of water and mud all the way to his ears.

"Well you almost had it there," Konbu commented thoughtfully, "For like, a minute. Forgot to tell you that it would be harder to regulate your chakra through them, didn't I?"

Harry let out a frustrated huff, interrupting the toad's condescension and stepped back to the shore, right out of the mud and leaving his sandal behind, buried. Frustration getting the better of him, he growled low in his throat and dug his arm into the water and mud to retrieve his lost footwear, resisting the urge to throw it at the nearest tree.

His favorite pair of sandals were saved by a voice calling his name from the trees.

Harry let out a long, slow breath, fighting down the stubborn heated frustration and focused on the sight of Jiraiya all but jogging across the clearing, grinning like a loon.

"Hisui!" he called, waving his arms about over his head. He was moving fast enough that his coat and hair flared behind him. Harry rethought his opinion of the man as being a pot-bellied, lazy old owl. Clearly, there was something that could motivate the Sannin into moving faster than a loping walk. Perhaps he wasn't as lazy as Harry thought.

"Ah," the toad on his head said, its voice low and unimpressed. "I'll go now, if you've no need of me, Tadpole."

Harry scowled at the name and waved his hand about his head as if swatting at a fly. Konbu got the message and with a grumpy croak, was gone.

"Hey kid," Jiraiya greeted, coming to a stop nearby. He blinked at Harry's soggy clothes and muddied legs. He still had one sandal on a foot and one dangling between the muddy fingers of his hands. Harry was sure his clothes and hair were in no better state. He really had landed his head in the mud once.

"What on earth?" the Sannin exclaimed, eyeing him warily.

"Water walking," Harry said, scowling at the mud slipping wetly down the inside of his right knee. He shook his leg, dislodging the worst of it, and dropped his sandal down onto the ground before him.

"Water or mud walking?" Jiraiya asked.

Harry nearly snarled at him, his frustration burning hotter. Stifling the urge again, he slipped his geta back onto his foot, shook the worst of the mud and water off his arms and crossed them over his chest so he could glare up at the man properly.

The Sannin watched him with barely hidden amusement and consternation, but the man didn't make another comment about the amount of mud and water Harry had managed to soak himself in that morning.

"Thought you were going to try the leaf throwing, Tadpole?"

Harry's frown deepened. "They only turn to dust. Sometimes soggy dust." Which was true. Harry still hadn't figured out where the water was coming from.

"Dust?"

"Like confetti, except for mice," Harry narrowed his eyes and the tall man blinked at him.

"What on earth are you doing to turn leaves into rodent confetti, kid?"

Harry felt a growl work its way up his chest, his frustrations over the past weeks getting the better of him and his worry for Minato cloying in his throat. "What do you need?" Harry asked, hearing the tightness in his voice.

Ah!" Jiraiya brightened considerably, as if someone had flipped a switch on a light. "Minato's awake!"

Harry's frustration and ire vanished in a swirl of excited warmth.

"He's awake?"

Jiraiya nodded, "Come on, kid, I'll use Shinshin."

Harry didn't need to be told twice, he stepped up close to the tall man and gripped the hem of his coat as Jiraiya laid two big hands on his shoulders. The man's grip tightened securely, and then they were gone, streaming through the winds and leaves in a streak of motion that blurred his vision and ruffled his hair into a wilder array than it normally was.

They paused only briefly between flickers, altering directions around objects unable to pass through, once atop the Konoha wall, another on the edge of a tall apartment building, then to the slanted shop roof that stood across the square from the Hospital's main entrance.

o-

They found Minato in the same sealing chamber that he had been laying in for four months. Someone had rolled in a bed, and the sealing arrays were gone, and Harry thought the room could use a window or three, but it was a very fleeting thought. His attention was wholly caught by the blonde man sitting up in the bed.

His right arm was in a sling, bound securely to his chest, which was still wrapped in bandages. Minato saw him and grinned, and if there was tiredness in his eyes, Harry ignored it. He raced across the room in an unusual bout of childishness and jumped up onto the bed. The Hokage caught him with a strong, sure arm and Harry dug his face into his chest, breathing in his scent and marveling at the sound of his heart – beating.

"Hisui," Minato greeted softly, digging his fingers into Harry's shaggy hair.

Harry sucked in a breath, so damn happy he was tearing up and just squeezed him. The blonde let him and didn't say anything more, securing his arm around Harry and tightening his hold in return.

"I thought –" Harry started, but couldn't finish, and pressed his nose into his shirt.

"Hey," Minato said, his voice hoarse and low but it still sounded like him and Harry loved the sound if simply because he had been so scared for so long that he'd never hear it again.

"…thought you'd never wake up," Harry said, his voice muffled by the man's shirt and chest.

"Of course I would," Minato said, running his hands through Harry's hair in a manner that reminded him of Kushina. "I'm too stubborn for that. I've got you and Naruto to look after. I couldn't go off just yet."

"Told ya, kid," Jiriaya commented.

Harry ignored the Sannin and finally pulled his face out of the chest he'd been buried in. Minato gave him a small, encouraging smile and brushed at a lock of his hair that had fallen into his face. Harry just took in the sight of the man's bright blue eyes and savored in the feel of his hands, happy beyond belief that he was awake and that he wasn't going to be alone, just he and Naruto.

They still had somebody. They still had family.

Minato seemed to read something of his thoughts in his face or eyes, because he just pulled Harry back into a tight embrace, mumbling words of comfort and family to him as Harry let the tears fall that he'd bottled up for months.

o-

The medic-woman breezed into the room with a scowl and a long list of the Hokage's injuries.

"That beast ripped your shoulder apart," Tsunade informed, staring the bed-ridden man down with a stern expression. Harry sat in the bed next to him, his eyes ping-ponging between Minato and the medic in full on lecture mode. She stood over them with her arms crossed over her chest and her feet planted apart. She did not look impressed and seemed quite intent on informing the young Hokage just how unimpressed she was.

She continued in a stern litany, "It tore through the upper quadrant of your ribcage, one lung, nearly shattered your collarbone on that side, completely dislodged your right arm, shredded seven muscles, five tendons and three major veins." She paused only long enough to take another breath before going on, her voice not losing its reproval at all. "It came perilously close to your heart and you were damn lucky it didn't rip your esophagus. You would have drowned in your own blood. Or your spinal cord, which would have likely paralyzed you for good."

Harry glanced at Minato, but the man took in the medic's words with a flat expression, most of his attention on the little bundle that was his son that rested on his lap - the very son Minato had take the injuries for in order to protect.

"As it is," Tsunade continued, waving one hand nonchalantly at her patient, "I still don't know if you'll ever be able to move your arm again. They almost had to amputate it. There wasn't much but broken mush and shredded flesh holding it on to you. Plus, extreme chakra exhaustion, a host of minor lacerations and bruising, which, frankly, I was wholly unconcerned about."

Harry had winced three times though her succinct summary of Minato's health, and Jiraiya in his corner had visibly flinched at least once. Though the Hokage took it in stride, nodding along and poking at his slinged arm with a curious expression. Harry wondered if the he could feel it.

"Sounds like you were lucky, kid," Jiraiya commented. It earned him a sharp look from the medic, but it served to bring Minato out of the reflection of his arm.

"Will I regain feeling?" he asked.

Tsunade turned from her glare at the Sannin to shrug. "Depends on how well your body will heal and adapt to the injuries. You'll be heavily scarred, inside and out, regardless. Hook up with some of the medics assigned to physical therapy. You're going to need it."

The blonde nodded.

"One more thing," Tsunade said, her voice lowering to something different than the rebuking she had been using. Harry held his breath. "Half your chakra is gone."

Minato froze, his eyes a little hazy and just stared at the medic. "Pardon?"

"Half of your chakra is gone," she repeated. Then Tsunade lifted her hands out, palm up, like a set of scales. She shook her left hand as she spoke, "Yin," then her right, "Yang." She clapped her hands together with a smack. "Chakra."

Minato gave her a flat look from his bed.

"With me so far, brat?" she asked with a taunting smirk.

Minato didn't dignify her question with a response, not that she seemed to mind. She merely separated her hands so she could wave her left at him again.

"Your Yin chakra is gone," she told him bluntly.

"Gone?"

"Completely."

Mianto stared at her, dumbfounded. "How is that possible?"

"I haven't a damned idea," she said.

Harry thought she looked both annoyed and deeply curious. She kept eying Minato like a particularly challenging and anticipated puzzle.

"Is that why my right side is numb and I can't move my arm?"

"Nope."

Minato gave her his flat, unimpressed look again and poked his dead arm with a finger.

"That's because you let a damned fox try to tear your body in half," Tsunade said bluntly.

Harry stared at Minato. The blonde looked like he was far away, his eyes staring blanking at a spot near his knees, with a little crease between his eyes that told Harry even though his body wasn't moving, his mind was. Naruto made a noise in his lap and it brought the Hokage out of his daze. He leaned down over the boy, his hair curtaining his face.

"How is he still –" Jiraiya stared at Minato with something like incredulousness, or abject wonder. Harry rather thought it was a bit of both.

"Alive?" Tsunade finished with a sharp grin. "I have no idea. Without the balance of yin and yang in his chakra I just do not know. I've never seen the like before. Still, there are plenty of people in the world without a drop of chakra." She eyed Minato with a rather sharp look. "All previous cases of such a split has resulted in death, usually from the trauma of the separation."

Harry simply watched the Hokage and his little brother in his lap, half hidden by the man's arm. He was curious, but his curiosity was thoroughly drowned out by the overwhelming joy that he was alive and he couldn't much care that half his chakra was gone and the medic woman thought he shouldn't even have woken up at all.

Harry was just thankful he had.

"Half your chakra, half your body," Tsunade said, then cocked her head and looked at him with a devious squint. "Is half your brain gone too?"

Minato froze for a minute before shaking his head and giving her an ironic smile. "I don't think so."

"What did you do, Minato?" Tsunade asked, her voice loosing the teasing edge. "You shouldn't have survived intact with half your chakra taken from you, either half. The Hyuga can even see the difference. I think you might have traumatized one of them, which is impressive, by the way, I've never seen one of those stick-up-the-ass Hyuga guys so pale and trembly before. Weak reaction for a medic…"

Minato paused in his action of lifting up his dead arm to give the woman one sardonically raised eyebrow. "Quite the statement, coming from you Tsunade-hime," he said.

Harry eyed the woman with curiosity – hime? Princess? Tsunade was unrepentant, and merely shrugged one shoulder, waiting for his answer. Minato let his arm fall back to the bed with a dull sound.

"Not quite intact," he said.

Tsunade waved the comment away, unconcerned by the man's inability to move one arm.

"You should be dead," she told him. "You're lucky."

Minato pondered that for a while before looking up at her. "After the nine-tails attacked the boys I was unsure if I would survive, and gambled that I would not. I knew the damage done. I doubt I would have, if not for Rin's insistence in healing me after assuring Hisui's stability. I used the Hakke no Fuin Shiki to reseal the released nine-tails in Naruto, and laced the seal with the last of Kushina's and my own, chakra. I suppose it was my Yin chakra that I sealed."

Tsunade's eyes had widened comically as he finished his sentence and it took a while before she was able to speak again. Minato and Harry, who had been silent anyways, waited her out.

"Screw lucky," she finally said, staring at him as if he were some sort of ghost. "You're a damn miracle."

o-

Minato waking from his four-month coma was only the start of an equally long convalescence. He convinced Tsunade to let him go home – a long argument that made Jiraiya drag Harry straight out of the room – and stop worrying about his apparent loss of chakra – half of. Minato didn't seem worried about it, stating it was in as good a place as any.

The arrays had kept him alive, breathing, stuffed full of nutrients and muscle stimulants, but it did very little for endurance or muscle strength. He was drastically weakened, easily tired and positively starving. He had been a big eater before, Harry knew, but he was beginning to put the Hokage on par with a glutton. After a couple weeks of pretty much just eating, sleeping, snuggling Naruto and waving away hovering ANBU or the squad of Hokage guards, Minato finally made his way into the backyard.

His movements were stiff and slightly unbalanced by his arm in a sling across his chest, and sweat broke out across his brow early, but the blonde pushed through the exercises with an icy determination and stubborn set to his jaw. After a few days of empty-hand forms, he added in a ninjato, which Harry had never seen him use before. Minato then continued his forms with the blade flashing in the sun, still slow, still awkward but his movements slowly, over the days and weeks, settled into something that was smooth and deadly instead of stiff and weary.

Harry sat on the porch steps, Naruto in his lap, and watched.

"I've never seen anyone else take the Academy's taijutsu to such heights," Rin commented, joining him on the stoop. Harry started a bit and then took a closer look at the forms that Minato was moving through. He saw it now, the juxtaposed combination of strength and flexibility, movements that jumped and flowed between the two extremes sometimes suddenly, sometimes in gradual transformations.

It was startling to see the basic Academy forms incorporated into such a complex system style. Harry hadn't put such a value on the goju-ryu techniques. It was generic and used as a basics sort of training in physical combat, but Rin was right. Minato took it to an advanced, complex and very effective level. The man's ninjato flashed in the light, a natural extension of his arm and the forms flowed around the blade as if they had been made for a sword.

Harry wondered what it would look like in a real fight.

"I'll hold him for a while," Rin said, "If you want to join him."

Harry eyed her, glanced at Minato and then shrugged. He passed Naruto to her, the infant squirming and agitated until the girl propped him up so he could see his father moving in the yard. Harry wandered down the steps to the yard, his geta clacking once, twice on the wood before being muffled by the grass. Minato paused at the noise, and smiled at him, motioning Harry to join him.

"Would you like to spar, Hisui?" he asked, and Harry nodded. It felt like it had been a long time since they had trained together. Minato carefully sheathed his sword and set it on the porch next to Rin. He passed his hand over Naruto's head before returning to Harry.

Harry took the time to step out of his geta, curling his toes in the cool grass. He still wasn't used to fighting in them, he tended to lose one of them at the worst possible moment.

"Open hand only," Minato said, settling into stance and giving him a smile. "Ready?" Harry took up a basic sparring stance, his feet staggered just a bit past his shoulders, right behind the left, his torso shifted forward and his arms up, barricading his chest.

Harry nodded, and made the first move.

Harry knew the Hokage was slowing himself down, but he also knew that Minato wasn't holding back too much of his strength. His strikes hit him hard, and only by keeping his stable center was Harry able to weather the blows without tumbling to the ground. The lack of use in one arm didn't seem to hinder the man over much. Harry returned punches and kicks, beginning to circle, moving into more complex katas even as Minato demonstrated the crazy ability of slipping effortlessly between the two extremes of soft defense and hard offense.

It was inspirational, and a chore to fight. Harry was hard pressed to keep up with his increasingly complex moves, even as he saw him tiring. Weakness or not, Harry was only eight and a half and was no match to the Hokage. Minato took advantage of one of Harry's more elaborate spins that took his feet off the ground; a daring move considering Harry knew the man was faster than he was, fast enough to catch him in the air, which was exactly what Minato did. He gripped his ankle, twisted and suddenly Harry's upward momentum was going in the opposite direction and he slammed into the ground.

He let out a gasp of air, breathless from the force of hitting the ground so hard, and stared up at the blonde bent over him.

"Injured?" Minato asked, raking his eyes over Harry's body in obvious concern.

Harry wasn't sure, but he didn't think he was seriously hurt. He shifted, and felt that his body had slightly dug itself into the turf. Minato had really thrown him down hard.

"I don't think so," he told him.

"Up you go," Minato said, offering his hand and pulling Harry out of the ground with a grunt. Harry stretched, rolling his muscles in a wave from his fingers to his toes, making sure everything was in working order. His spine popped and his arms were probably bruised but nothing was broken.

"Tsunade gave me your medical file," Minato commented, watching him check for major injuries. "She thinks Orochimaru might have affected your genes, specifically –"

"My bone density," Harry interrupted. "I know. I'm heavy."

Minato's lips twitched. "We'll keep an eye on it, ok?"

Harry nodded.

"We'll start you on some strength training exercises," he said.

Harry frowned at the thought of more training to add onto his rotation.

"I've noticed it," the man said. "Your strikes are hard and solid, more than someone your size should have without exceptional chakra control. Plus, it took me no small bit of effort to throw you down that hard. You are heavy."

Minato knelt down next to him. He watched with some curiosity as the man placed his palm over Harry's belly, much like Tsunade had done. He felt something, subtly tickling at him, cool and barely there and only at the point the man's hand touched his stomach.

The waters in his mind simmered at the touch, hissing out into his head with such a hot menace that Harry recoiled physically. Minato ignored it.

"You're holding it well," Minato commented, pressing his fingers into the hard muscles of Harry's belly. "It seems restless though. How do you feel?"

"Hot." Which was the truth and it wasn't just from the sun. They were in the beginnings of Hi no Kuni's cool, dry season and while it could still be as warm as an England summer, Harry's overheated feeling came from within.

Minato raised his eyebrows, a half amused, half questioning look on his face.

"I don't think he likes it when other people touch him," Harry said. "The waters start to boil and I get hot and then I have to push him back in the well and he simmers at me for a while after."

"This has happened before?"

"When Tsunade poked at me," Harry said, eliciting an amused sort of smirk from the man.

"Can you hold him when he – simmers?"

Harry shrugged in a half nod. "I think so."

Minato regarded him silently, his face largely blank save for a trace of thoughtful curiosity. Harry waited him out in equal silence. Minato pulled his hand away and Harry replaced it with his own. He couldn't feel the nine-tails this way, through his hand. All he felt with the canvas material of his jacket and the plain of his stomach underneath. In his mind, though, the well was still rippling making the chains ring out an occasional bell-like toll.

"How is your chakra control, Hisui?"

Harry frowned at the reminder of his lack of control. His face obviously told the blonde his answer for he chuckled at Harry's disgruntled expression.

"It is rare for children your age to have very good chakra control," Minato said. "Your body is still growing and your chakra is changing and growing and all the exercises at the Academy will make it grow and change, too. So it will be difficult for you to have exceptional chakra control for a few years, yet."

Harry, in a rare mood, pouted. "But I can't control it at all. Can't even do Leaf Throwing."

Minato just smiled. "What happens to the leaf when you try?"

Harry didn't bother to explain. Instead, he picked up one of the fallen leaves from one of the trees of the yard and pushed his chakra through it, trying to get the hardened, chakra-laced casing around the leaf that Jiriaya had achieved.

He went through the same process; he pulled his chakra forward with the sign of the ram, the chains over the well rattled and jingled, the waters surged at the slack, he pushed them back, the fox settled back into its hole and then everything rebounded and energy poured through his arms and through his fingers.

The leaf shredded itself in his hand.

Harry glared at the damp, shredded mess.

"Wind," Minato mumbled, inspecting the resulting confetti. Harry shook the damp pieces of leaf off his hands, going so far as to wipe the worst of it off in the grass at his feet.

"There are seals I could place on you to help you hold him," Minato said, slowly, once Harry had cleaned off his hands. "But I don't want to use them until I must. They will affect your own chakra and hinder your progress in control. They could also do permanent damage to your growth. You are young. It will be better for you to learn to hold the fox and exert your chakra outside of your self at the same time without the aid of the seals. Kushina had to do the same, and it took her many years."

Harry nodded and held in a sigh, thinking of all the troubles he had been having with water walking and his inability to regulate his chakra. It made completing the simple techniques at the Academy very challenging.

"Be careful, Hisui," Minato said, pushing his fingers through his hair. "Holding the nine-tails takes a great amount of chakra and control. Kushina struggled for years to be able to both hold the fox and perform chakra techniques. The fox could break out of your hold if your will wavers."

Harry pulled in a deep breath at the warning, meeting the man's cool blue eyes solemnly. The thought of the fox escaping him scared him. Memories of a red monster tearing through the village rose up and Harry felt an echo of the nine-tails' powerful presence tremble down his spine.

Suddenly, the blonde gave a bright grin.

"But I trust that you can do it, Hisui!"

o-

The end of winter marked a two week break between Academy sessions and Minato's return to full Hokage duties. Harry was woken that first morning of break by Kakashi, who poked his shoulder as he left their room. Harry blinked blearily after the older boy, noting the dimness of pre-dawn that barely offered enough light to see by. Harry eyed the sleeping baby curled up next to him. Naruto was still blissfully asleep, his nose twitching every once in a while, but otherwise the boy was still.

By far more curious than alarmed, Harry rolled out of bed and trailed after him, leaving Naruto tucked into the still warm quilt.

Harry paused outside of the second bedroom on the floor and pushed the door open a hands breadth. Grey light from the windows streamed weakly into the room, highlighting Rin's face and arms curled on the bed. Harry didn't try to wake her, rather he simply left the door ajar and creeped down the stairs. Rin would hear if Naruto woke.

Harry found Kakashi and Minato in the kitchen, the former shoveling riceballs into his mouth and the latter downing tea in a manner that wasn't much more polite. The blonde offered Harry a plate of cold balls of sticky rice without a word. He accepted rice and tea and within minutes the three males were fed, dressed and leaving the house.

Harry still didn't know what was going on.

"Let me carry you?" Minato asked once they reached the yard.

Harry gave the man a questioning look but nodded anyways. Minato didn't explain. The blonde crouched, gripped his arm and with a solid swing had Harry clinging to him piggy-back style.

"Third Training Ground," Minato told Kakashi, giving Harry a very good idea of what was going on.

Kakashi rocked back on his heels and then shot off across the yard, jumping up onto the top of the high fencing-wall and then up onto the roof of the building beyond it. Minato was just behind him, his one good arm wrapped under Harry's thigh. Harry wrapped his arms around Minato's neck and shoulders for balance as the man jumped up onto the roofs and chased after Kakashi.

The rooftop run to the training ground was fast, but not Shunshiin fast. It whipped wind through Harry's hair and made him both exhilarated at the speed and a little breathless. They were joined by two shadows, and Harry probably wouldn't have noticed them except they ran close and kept pace and neither Kakashi nor Minato gave them a second glance.

They weren't the usual masked ANBU. Harry was also relatively sure that he knew them both, though it was difficult to see the details of their faces in the low light.

They reached the training ground in less time than Harry had ever experienced. The little group stood around the clearing, catching their breath from the run. It left Kakashi bouncing a little on his toes and Harry could feel Minato's deep, controlled breaths under his chest.

Minato let him slide to the ground with a thankful smile. "Thank you, Hisui," he said. Harry just nodded, unsure why he was being thanked.

"Your weight makes me work a lot harder," Minato said. "I need the strength conditioning, and Kakashi is very fast when he wants to be."

Ah.

"Speaking of strength –" Minato started, eyeing Harry speculatively. "It's past time to get you started on strength training. Tsunade's orders."

Minato gestured to one of their shadows, who approached with a grin around a senbon stuck between his teeth. His fellow, who Harry recognized easily without the wind whipping his bangs into his eyes, followed him.

"Shiranui Genma is a member of the squad that guards me," Minato told Harry. "Along with Shisui, whom I think you already know."

Harry actually knew them both. He gave Shisui a smile, which was returned before he greeted the other. "Genma-sensei." He hadn't seen him in a long time.

"Heya, kiddo," Genma said.

Minato looked between the two. "You were rotated into the Academy a couple times, weren't you Genma?" he asked.

"Three times. Back during the war. Met your little tyke there," Genma said pointing at Harry. "He looked a little different back then, but I recognize the eyes."

"You spent more time on Academy duty than the rest of us," Shisui said, smirking. "You just couldn't keep yourself from getting injured."

Genma just waved him off, unconcerned with his record of ill-health. "Still doesn't speak much, huh?"

Harry felt Minato's hand run through his hair. "He talks when he needs to," Minato said in his defense.

Genma shrugged, unrepentant. "What do you want me to do, Hokage?"

The blonde smiled brightly, with a hint of something dark and Harry wondered if he was about to regret following Kakashi out of bed this morning. "Log rolls."

Genma grimaced and then grinned around the needle in his mouth.

"Shisui can keep watch," Minato continued. "While you show Hisui the technique."

"What will you be doing, Minato-sama?" Shisui asked.

"Me and Kakashi won't be far away."

Shisui did not look like he believed him but Genma only shrugged and began pulling Harry towards the trees nearby by his arm.

"You're going to hate this," Genma told him happily.

o-

Genma was right.

The log rolling exercise was about as bad as water walking, but for entirely different reasons. Harry's frustrations with water walking – and leaf throwing and tree climbing – stemmed from his inability to accomplish the tasks with any degree of consistent success. His problem with the log rolling wasn't because he couldn't do it. He could and that was why it was horrible.

The technique itself was quite simple. Find a heavy downed tree, and push it until it moved. Then do it again. And again. Genma had found an ideal specimen: a thick trunk as tall as Harry's thighs and about as long as he was tall, that had lost most of its branches and looked to have been some swordsman's target practice. The teen chopped off what was left, leaving the downed tree a log that looked like it could actually be rolled without its roots or branches stopping it. Genma dragged it out of the tree line into the open area of the training ground, and Harry trailed after him.

Genma had then shown him various positions in which to fold his body against the log.

"They'll work different muscles," Genma said, correcting Harry's stances. "Go on then! Push!"

Harry crouched down, dug his shoulder into the bark of the log, his feet into the ground and pushed with legs and torso and arms.

The log didn't roll, but shifted a little in the dirt.

"Harder, Hisui!"

Harry did as he was told and pushed harder and the log began to roll. Harry went with it, pushing and moving his arms down along the thick bark as it moved to keep the motion up. It rolled sluggishly away from him. He stumbled after, leaning against it as the tree settled.

"Why'd you stop?" Genma asked, crouching down and settling his weight. "Keep going. Cycle through the three positions I showed you. Roll it until you can't roll no more!"

Harry spared the youth a look for his vocabulary before he returned his attention to the heavy log.

o-

By the time the sun had risen to the point of peaking over the tall trees mid-morning, Harry was exhausted. Genma found him sprawled belly down over the log like some arboreal cat, half asleep and his muscles twitching in complaint.

"Hate me yet, kiddo?"

Harry didn't even bother to respond, or move.

"Yup," Genma said happily. His teeth clacked against the senbon in his mouth and Harry wondered if he was grinning. He likely was. "That one sucks."

Harry grunted weakly in agreement. It felt like his entire body had turned into wet noodles.

"You didn't do too bad, though. Good job, then." Genma continued, still clacking and grinning. "You should probably rotate this exercise into your usual routine. Maybe every other day or so. Off-set the log rolling with something designed for speed or agility, like tree running."

Harry had a good idea of what tree running might be, but was quite sure that he didn't want to know how Genma might mutate it into something that would turn him into jelly. Log rolling had sounded harmless enough, too, at first. Then Harry rolled a tree through the training grounds for half a morning.

Genma seemed to know where his thoughts were going, for he chuckled. "I've got a consolation prize for you, kiddo."

Harry pushed his curiosity back down into a deep dark hole. It had only gotten him into strength training this morning and he didn't want to know what else was in store for him. It wasn't even mid day yet.

"But you'll have to get up to see it," Genma continued.

Something in the other man's voice made Harry squint his eyes open to peer at him through his hair. Genma wasn't even looking at him. Instead, he was staring off somewhere through the trees, his eyes a little wide and the senbon between his lips still and forgotten.

Harry's curiosity would no longer be ignored.

He pushed himself painfully up to his knees and wavered for a moment atop the log. Once he was stable and straddling it, he followed Genma's line of sight into the trees.

It took him a minute to figure out what Genma was staring at. Harry didn't see anything except the forest at first. Then he saw movement that looked almost like shadows – then the shadows slowed into an almost pause before flickering into motion again. It was in the short times that the movements slowed that Harry was able to discern what he was seeing.

Minato and Kakashi were sparring.

They were moving so fast that Harry couldn't even follow them with his eyes. They simply appeared as swift shadows or on the occasions that the sunlight streaming through the foliage caught their hair, flashes of light and color. Harry had never seen anyone move so fast without a transport technique.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Genma said.

Harry could only nod, distracted by the task of trying to keep up with the two sparring in the trees.

"Hokage is the fastest ninja around," Genma continued, "probably the fastest to have ever lived."

Harry could believe that. Even without the aide of chakra techniques like the Shunshin or Minato's Hiraishin, the man was fast. He wondered if he'd ever be that fast. It seemed impossible, yet Kakashi was just as much of a blur of motion as Minato was.

"Ah, there –" Genma said, pointing into the trees towards the dueling pair. "See, Kakashi is slowing."

Harry didn't see. Both of them seemed to be just as fast as each other and as they had been since he started watching. He was about to label their speeds as equal when the whole spar ended.

Harry didn't really catch what was done to end it. He only saw the result. Kakashi frozen in stillness with his hands held out to his sides in something of a surrender and his chin up and baring his throat carefully against the pointed fingers of Minato's good hand.

Genma chuckled gleefully beside him and Harry just tried to figure out what Minato had done to win.

"Told ya, kiddo," Genma said, clapping his hand hard onto Harry's shoulder. It pitched him forward and Harry wobbled atop his perch with sore muscles. "Hokage is fast. That bad arm doesn't even slow him."

"How?" Harry asked, not sure if he was asking how Minato won, or how the man had gotten the reputation as the fastest Shinobi in the Elemental Nations.

"He's got naturally high-speed reflexes," Genma said, "And he's got that Hiraishin, of course. And training. I remember him training before the war, back when he was still a Chunin. I was in Academy still then, and I saw him and his team racing atop the walls. He was winning of course."

Harry glanced towards the village. He couldn't see the high village walls from their position, but he remembered the height easily enough. The wall circled the entirety of the village in a graceful arc and was probably quite a long distance if it was run.

"Your speed isn't so bad, kiddo," Genma said, his eyes still on the pair in the trees. Minato and Kakashi had settled into easy stances and appeared to be discussing something. Harry gave the man next to him his attention. "Your reflexes were pretty good for a kid as I recall."

"I used to run with my cousin," Harry offered, thinking of the Harry Hunting games that Dudley had started at Primary back in England. Harry had learned very quickly that it didn't do to be caught in that game.

"Keep it up then," Genma said, giving him a lopsided smile around his senbon. "Maybe you'll catch Hokage someday, or bypass him. You never know!"

Harry turned back to Minato and Kakashi as the pair emerged from the trees, winded and dirt-smudged but both clearly grinning. It was hard to imagine being able to move as fast as the two had been going, but the thought was exhilarating. Harry was already the quickest of his classmates, able to out-sprint the lot of them. Maybe he would be as fast as Kakashi and Minato one day.

"Hisui!" Minato greeted, raising a hand and waving.

Harry grinned as he stumbled off his training log, crossing the clearing to meet the others halfway, sore muscles and exhaustion forgotten in the face of the blonde's bright smile.

o-

Jiraiya left Konoha one cool, sunny morning at the end of April, giving Harry a fond parting pat on the head as he exited the gates. "Don't do anything I wouldn't now, Tadpole," he said.

Harry scowled at the petting, but his frown faded as the man disappeared into the forest.

"He'll be back," Minato said from his side. "He just can't stay still anymore. Tsunade either. They both wander about more than they stay in one place. I'm surprised they were here for as long as they were."

"Why not?" Harry asked. He hadn't known that the medic had left the village as well. He was still a little miffed that Jiraiya left with such nonchalance. Harry recognized his feeling; he was being possessive. He didn't want the man to leave. He didn't want any of his precious people to leave. He frowned at his own emotions, eyes on the road that wandered out of the village and into the woods.

"Jiraiya keeps an eye on things out there for us," Minato said. "Will you miss him, Hisui?"

Harry didn't deny it and nodded.

"He'll be back," Minato promised again. Harry believed him, but the lingering need to keep all those he cared about close and tightly bound up in his arms was still there.

"I still can't believe he taught you summoning," Minato grumbled, annoyed. Harry eyed the blonde warily, recalling the reaction he had had when Harry first summoned Konbu to show off his new skill, encouraged by Jiraiya. Impressed, surprised then a rapid onset of incredulous indignation. Harry had not received the brunt of that, but he had seen the confrontation between Minato and Jiraiya about it – which resulted in the Sannin being more than a little sheepish. Apparently, summoning could be quite dangerous and he was not pleased with the Sannin teaching the technique to an Academy student, no matter the reason. Harry had bristled at that until he realized that Minato was being protective and was worried about him, which killed his ire immediately.

Harry hadn't had many people worry about his safety before.

Jiraiya had then told Minato exactly who Harry had managed to summon on his first try, which caused the Hokage to stop his ranting very quickly in order to stare at Harry with no small bit of surprise.

"The Sea Toads?" he asked, clearly surprised.

Harry learned then, that Minato shared his teacher's opinion of them being a grumpy lot.

Harry agreed with the two men. One meeting with each of the brothers was enough for Harry to know that summoning either Sankakunami or Namimani to show off would have been just stupid. Konbu was bad enough. The little bright green toad had demanded a whole package of strawberry pocky for the trouble of having to preen under the attentions of the two older Shinobi, fellow toad summoners or not.

"Konbu is teaching me water walking," Harry offered. Minato gave him a look that was a little bit unbelieving.

"Well, pointers anyways," Harry amended. "It's easier with the geta." He pointed to his feet.

"Is it?" he asked, eyeing the stilted sandals Harry wore with a smile. Harry was getting smoother with walking in them, but they still made too much noise. He liked them too much to give them up, however, and was determined to walk silently in them, eventually.

"Well, not really," Harry admitted. "I keep sinking."

The blonde chuckled and Harry thought about being irritated but was still just too happy that the man was up and about and walking and alive to be much annoyed.

"Come on," Minato said, gripping his shoulder and turning him back into the village. "I'll walk you to the Academy."

"Can't I skip the rest of the day?" Harry asked. He had already missed most of the morning and was far more inclined to cuddle up to little Naruto for the day than go to class.

"Not if you want to be Shinobi."

Harry allowed the man to lead him back through the village towards the Academy.

o-

Harry left Minato at the Missions Office weakly bantering with the Third, who was manning the area, to join his classmates in the yard. The unusual coolness of the afternoon coupled with the bright sun had all the students quite active. Harry found his friends in the shade of a wide tree. Kabe was towering over a crouched and bored-looking Idate. Both the boys were attempting to ignore the scolding Lin.

Harry approached them warily.

"- can't believe all the rumors!" Lin was saying. "Sure they're powerful, but that doesn't mean they brought it here."

Idate peered up at her, curling his lips into a disgruntled frown. "They're the only ones said to be able to control it."

"It didn't seem very controlled to me," Lin retorted.

"Saw it did you?"

"Of course I did! It was rather hard to miss! What were you doing? Sleeping through the destruction?"

Harry had a sinking feeling that he knew what they were talking about.

"Mom shuttled me off to one of the safe houses before I knew what was going on," Kabe admitted. "Where were you, Idate?"

"Here."

Lin gave him a strange look. "What were you doing at the Academy at that time a night?"

"Training –" Idate drew the word out long, spinning a kunai around his finger in emphasis.

Then Lin spotted Harry sneaking up behind them. "Hisui!"

Harry sidled up to the group, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to be part of this conversation.

"Where were you at, Hisui?" Idate asked.

Harry rolled his shoulders and didn't quite meet their eyes. "At when?"

Lin huffed. "When the nine-tails attacked."

"You mean when it was set loose," Idate piped up.

"You don't know that!"

"Course I do," Idate said. "Everybody's saying it."

"They're rumors!"

"What rumors?" Harry asked, drawing the attention of all three of them. They all gave him varying looks of disbelief and incredulity and Harry forced himself to stand his ground without hunching his shoulders.

"You were injured for a while, weren't you?" Lin finally asked. "You came back to Academy later than most of us."

Harry didn't respond to that, but none of them seemed to mind.

"Some have the power to control the tailed-beasts," Kabe started.

"Legend," Lin said.

Kabe continued as if she hadn't said anything. "Power like the Uchiha Clan's Sharingan."

Lin piped up again, "Rumor."

"More than a rumor!" Idate countered, "Half the village is whispering it behind their hands. Even my mom's heard it! Course, no one dares to say anything if one of the clan is about, but –"

But Harry stopped listening. In his memory he saw the spinning red and black of the Sharingan set in a flamed mask. He knew that one did have the power to control the nine-tails. And that person was an Uchiha. It was neither legend nor rumor, it was truth and fact.

"Besides," Lin's voice cut through his thoughts. "Can you really believe that one person could control something that powerful? The nine-tails is said to have been a force of nature!"

"The Hokage got rid of it, didn't he?" Kabe countered. "He's only one."

But there had been four persons there, Harry thought. And Minato couldn't have sealed all of the fox alone. Half, yes, but not all of it. So who could have the power to control it all?

The man's name came to him like a whisper on a breeze. Madara.

"You boys are impossible!" Lin exclaimed, her voice louder than it normally was. "If you base your mission intel on rumor and legend you'll never get anything done."

"Sometimes rumor is all you've got," Idate said. "What would you suggest then?"

Kabe answered in her place. "Research."

o-

Kabe's idea of research required Harry's unused Library Pass and a little bit of conniving to get the Chunin on duty at the Library's doors to let all four of them in on it. Harry figured that the Chunin's boredom was more of a factor in the teen letting them all in than any effort on their part in persuasion.

"Why don't they just let anybody in, anyways," Idate grumbled. He was still shooting annoyed looks back towards the entrance and Kabe had resorted to guiding the other boy through the tall shelves.

"It's not hard to get a pass," Harry said, earning him a narrowed-eyed look from Idate. Harry just shrugged in response.

"Come on, this way," Kabe said.

The group trailed the larger boy through the dim building. His quick pace was evidence of his familiarity and Harry began to wonder how often Kabe came to the Library.

"What are we looking for?" Idate asked.

"The Clan Records," Kabe said.

"You mean the public ones."

"What's the difference?" Harry asked.

Idate studied him a moment before speaking. "You're not from one of Konoha's clans."

Harry frowned, feeling like he had maybe been insulted. "I'm not from Konoha," he said.

This caused both the boys to look at him in surprise but Lin was angry and rounded on Idate before anybody could comment on Harry's origins.

"What's it matter if he's not from a clan?" she poked Idate sharply in the chest. "I'm not from some stuffy clan and I can still kick your ass!"

Idate frowned but then grinned widely. "Only if you can catch me, sweets!"

Lin looked angry but before she could retort Idate continued. "All the clans keep their own records, but we are required to submit public copies."

"What, you don't trust the Library to keep the records for you?" Lin retorted.

"Not really," Idate said. "But mostly because the public records are usually… well fixed."

Kabe stopped suddenly, making Harry who had been following him, nearly collide straight into him. "Fixed how?"

Idate eyed the larger boy, a little guarded in the face of Kabe's sudden ire. "Who knows," he finally said. "Could be hiding a bastard son, or a worthless child. Maybe the real records show a clansman who had a lot of girlfriends and the clan had to hunt down any illegitimate children to keep the clan's Bloodline guarded. They wouldn't want something like that to be public. It all depends. Heard the Hyuga went through quite the trouble to track down a missing Genin before the war and put a seal on him. Not sure if they killed him or just hid him somewhere, but I don't think his name is on the public records. Me and Ibiki couldn't find it anyways."

Kabe did not seem to like this explanation very much.

"How do you know all this, anyways," Lin asked.

"Morino is a minor clan in Konoha," Idate said. "I've sat in a few of my brother's lessons. He's the heir, of course, being older, but father doesn't mind me sitting in. Says it never hurts for me to learn something."

"What little you can, you should," Lin said, her nose curled up in a clear show of her feelings about his clan status and his intelligence.

"Oi!"

"Come on," Kabe said, grabbing Idate's sleeve and dragging him down the shelves again.

"Are we there yet?" Lin asked. "I'm hungry."

"Again?"

"Yes."

"You just ate!"

"An hour ago!"

"We're here."

o-

The Uchiha Clan Record wasn't anything spectacular, Harry thought. Kabe had dragged them into a squared corner of shelving stacked with old scrolls. The Uchiha's was a tall though thin thing, and Kabe rolled it across the table, weighing its corners. Kabe gestured at it with a wide sweep of his arm.

"The Uchiha Clan," Kabe said.

Harry eyed the complex diagram and vaguely identified it as a family tree.

"You really think they're going to have their skills and abilities listed here?" Lin asked, staring at the scroll with obvious disdain.

"Possibly, but probably not," Idate said.

"What are you looking for, then?" Lin asked.

"Uchiha Madara," Harry said, making his friends pause in surprise. Kabe closed his mouth on whatever he was going to say.

"The founder?" Lin asked.

Harry blinked. "Founder of what?"

Lin gave him an incredulous look and spoke slowly, as if she thought he should already know the answer. "Of Konoha."

Harry didn't respond and just stared at the girl. He had only heard the man's name from Minato when the blonde had faced off with the masked man. Lin spoke of him as if everyone knew who Uchiha Madara was.

"Don't you pay attention in history lessons?" she asked.

Harry shrugged, wondering if Madara was a history lesson he had missed at some point and then wondered what else he might have missed.

Lin sighed and shook her head.

It was Idate who answered his question. "Uchiha Madara and Senju Hashirama formed an alliance and created Konoha. They were the heads of their clans, and were rivals. The Uchiha and Senju clans along with all the clans that they had conquered came together and formed the first Hidden Village, Konoha. Hashirama would become our First Hokage. You do know that at least, right?"

Harry nodded. He had learned who the four Hokages were quite early on. Everybody knew who the Hokages were. He had a particularly fond memory of he and Kushina sitting on the slanted roof of her house, staring up at the Hokage Monument under the stars and the full moon as she told him of the men who's faces were now carved in the stone.

Lin inspected his face for falsehoods and once satisfied, continued the story. "Madara and Hashirama later fought at the Valley of the End, where Madara died. There are statues there of them both. You should go see them sometime."

Harry tried to recreate a picture of the map of Hi no Kuni in his head and pinpointed the Valley of the End landmark far to the north of the village.

"Here," Lin said, pointing towards the top of the Uchiha family tree. Harry studied the markings under her finger, puzzling out what it said slowly and with some difficulty.

"Who's this?" he asked, sweeping her finger over to a name next to Madara's.

"His brother," she said, studying the scroll with thin curiosity. "He died young."

"So Madara's dead?" Harry asked.

Lin nodded, pointing out the string of dates beneath the founder's name.

"The public records of the skills should be around here somewhere," Idate commented, pushing at the length of scroll still curled around its bobbin. "Though with the Uchiha, there probably isn't much…"

Harry watched them pour over the old Uchiha scroll, his eyes flickering back to Madara's name and the dates of his life and death. If Uchiha Madara was dead, then who was the man in the mask using his name?

o-

Harry first met Itachi's father by accident.

With Rin mended, and Naruto out of his newborn stage, she had finally taken a full time post at Konoha's Shinobi Hospital. Her day-time schedule required Minato to find an alternative babysitter. Harry had recommended the Uchiha woman only because she was a friend of Kushina's, and because she had helped watch Naruto before. Minato had given Harry one of his wide, sunny smiles at the suggestion.

Which was why Harry was slinking through the Uchiha district just before dusk, trying to ignore the plethora of Sharingan eyes that watched him with idle interest.

Harry made it to Mikoto's house without having to explain his presence, and rapped on the doorframe while simultaneously not staring back at the man in the shadowed alley across the street. He couldn't make out the man's features, but there was no mistaking that subtle glow of red in his eyes that stared him down. Did all the Uchiha run around with their red eyes on all the time?

Harry had never had an aversion to the color red before. He could distinctly recall all the myriad shades of reds that cascaded through Kushina's hair. But he did not like red eyes. They made him nervous. They made him deeply nervous for reasons he didn't really like to think about much – most of those reasons involving night terrors that had left him trembling in a cold sweat. He was happy that they had stopped after Kushina had died, since she was no longer there to hold him afterwards.

So standing in the heart of the Uchiha neighborhood was like facing down his fears by letting them swallow him whole.

The door slid open with a near silent hiss and Harry whipped his head away from the lurker in the alley to be faced with a looming figure with slowly turning Sharingan.

Harry stared. His mind was flickering with images of the masked stranger who had kicked Rin off the monument and pulled the fox out of Kushina. It was the same Sharingan shape, those three, twirling drops dark against the red. Harry could recall few details of the masked man, he was too well covered, it had all happened too fast – but he would never forget those red eyes. The Uchiha clan's eyes.

The same eyes as the man now standing over Harry with the same broad shoulders and build in body…

It took Mikoto pulling her husband out of the doorway and Harry's line of sight for him to snap out of his fear drenched memories. He sucked in a fast, startled breath and let the woman block his immediate view of the man. She reached out and pushed her fingers against his shoulder and Harry let the air out in a woosh. He hoped she couldn't smell the smoke and copper on his breath. He could sure taste it. The waters in his mind were boiling.

"Mikoto-san," he greeted, his voice only a little shaky.

"Hisui-kun," she said, sounding as if it was the second or third time she had said his name. It probably was. "Please come in. Naru-kun is in the living room."

The mention of Naruto got Harry's feet moving more than her invitation did. He entered the house with a wariness he couldn't really hide and glanced around for the man who had opened the door. He hadn't gone far. He had taken a seat across the wide living room, his legs folded beneath him on the mats. His face was directed towards the two infants on a futon in the middle of the room, but his eyes were still on Harry.

The man hadn't deactivated his Sharingan, either.

Harry toed his geta off at the door before he stepped on the tatami mats of the floor.

"Hisui-kun," Mikoto said softly, touching his shoulder again and guiding him to stand a few paces in front of the man. "My husband, may I introduce Uzumaki Hisui, charge of Namikaze-sama and cousin of Kushina." She turned to Harry only enough to look at him. "Hisui-kun, Uchiha Fukagu, Head of the Uchiha Clan, the Konoha Police Force, Jonin and my husband."

Harry did the polite thing and gave the man a bow. After Mikoto's formal introduction he could hardly do anything else without making a fool of himself. He didn't, however, fully remove his gaze from the man, keeping at least his knees in his sights as he lowered his chest and head.

He wasn't stupid enough to believe that the man didn't notice.

Harry did not remain bowed, but straightened after only a moment. It was rude of him. He should've waited until the man addressed him before raising his head. But Harry didn't trust the man enough to give him that kind of etiquette.

The Uchiha Head didn't speak for a long moment. "Welcome, Uzumaki-kun."

Harry bowed his head again, though not his body, and thanked him. Mikoto steered him away then, with a barely-there touch on his shoulder. Harry crossed directly to the futon and Naruto. He crawled across it on his knees and the little blonde gurgled out a happy sound at the sight of him.

"Hey there," Harry said, picking the baby up so Naruto could bounce his legs against the cushion. Naruto seemed very happy, his face cracked in an unrestrained grin as he gripped Harry's sleeves and kicked at his knees. Harry smiled at the boy's antics.

"Thank you for watching him Mikoto-san," Harry said.

"He is always welcome here," she told him, picking up Sasuke as he began to fuss. Harry eyed the little dark-haired boy with curiosity. Sasuke was about the same age as Naruto, only a few months older and the two infants were largely the same size.

"As are you, Hari."

Harry nearly started, but being as much on edge as he was with Fugaku in the room out of his direct line of sight Harry managed to refrain from actually jumping. Instead, he whipped his head around to an interior doorway and the one who had spoken.

"Itachi," Harry greeted the younger boy. Itachi nodded and slid into the room on near-silent bare feet. The boy gave his father a solemn nod, kissed his mother's cheek and patted Sasuke's head before speaking again.

"I'll walk you out."

Harry merely nodded.

Their walk through the Uchiha district was more silent than their leaving of the house had been. The only noise between them was Naruto's admiral attempts at spitting bubbles into Harry's hair. Harry was too keyed up from meeting the intimidating Fugaku to discern if Itachi noticed his discomfort with the other boy's clan or not.

They didn't speak until they had crossed out of the gates of the neighborhood.

"See you tomorrow," Itachi said, already turning to go back home.

Harry spoke up before the other boy could leave. "Your family…"

The young Uchiha stopped and turned to face him, his face curious. Harry caught the guarded look in the boy's eyes, though.

Harry gave him a small, no doubt anxious smile. "They're a little odd."

Itachi's brows rose high. "And yours is mismatched."

Itachi turned on his heel and slid back into his clan's streets. Harry grinned at his back, having caught the growing little smirk the other boy had just before he turned away.

o-

That evening was the first time Harry noticed the glares, walking with Naruto from Mikoto's. It had been four months since Minato had woken, eight since the nine-tails wreaked destruction across the village and the boys had become its twin hosts. Even now, there was still a great scar that cut across the village where buildings had not yet been rebuilt and rubble was still scattered across the deep gouges of earth and rock. The wall had been the first to be repaired, but most of the rest of the destruction had not yet been reconstructed. It served as an ugly reminder. Harry remembered Minato eyeing it one day, standing on the edge of a cobbled road that was cut off and fell into a steep trench.

He had gazed at the destruction with lingering sadness and regret.

Duck was trailing him, in and out of Harry's senses like a flickering shadow, not really trying to be subtle, just following. The man had been invisible to any of Harry's senses within the Uchiha District, but had then appeared atop one of the nearby buildings after Itachi had left him.

He didn't notice the glare at first, but when he skirted around a civilian woman, she barked out a sharp command to 'watch it!' Harry startled at the mean tone of her voice and skipped out of her immediate reach, his reactions quick and ingrained even years after the Dursleys. He stared at her even as she glared at him, one hand on her hip and the other waving a stiff finger about in the air.

"Watch where you're walking!" she yelled at him. "Don't be getting into the way of good honest folk!"

Harry frowned as her eyes skipped between him and Naruto, her glower not fading at all, and if anything increasing. She huffed, loud and stark and stalked off down the street. Harry just stared after her, high-strung, bewildered and feeling very protective.

He glanced at the other pedestrians, most of them having stopped at the sudden loud confrontation. He didn't know any of them, and most were civilians of various ages. Almost all of them were giving him shadowed looks. Some were outright glaring, their eyes dark and some mean. Harry could see the tenseness in them, and felt the heavy air. There was a Konoha Policeman near a turn off, watching the sparse crowd with intense, red eyes. His presence was both comforting and unnerving to Harry who wasn't sure to trust the other man to help him or not.

The sudden presence of Duck at his shoulder almost made him jump, but Harry was familiar enough with the masked man to not react to his closeness. The ANBU didn't say anything, or move further. He just stood behind Harry's shoulder, a solid, white-shadowed presence that inspired the small crowd to go along with their previous business.

"She's a widow," Duck said very quietly. Harry heard, however. The ANBU was largely aware of Harry's hearing range, having been guarding Harry for over a year now, and having got in trouble due to it once or twice. "Her husband was a Chunin Shinobi. He died in the attack."

"She was told," Harry said. Duck didn't respond and he wasn't sure he had spoken loud enough for the masked man to have heard him. It didn't matter. It was obvious. The woman knew of the nine-tails having been sealed in Naruto.

Harry rubbed his hand over Naruto's back and wondered.

She hadn't been hateful with him, mean, but not hateful. She had been hateful just towards the baby.

o-

Kabe and Anko noticed the oddness of the village's reaction to Harry on a late evening after lessons. They were sprawled under the wide tree in the Academy's training yard, Harry with Naruto gripping his shorts and trying to eat the grass, waiting for Minato to be finished with his work. They were teaching Harry how to play a game called go, which Harry was poor at. Kabe was trying to be helpful as he crouched behind Harry's shoulder, but Anko wasn't as much – which was understandable as she was acting as his opponent for the lesson. Somewhere in the thick foliage over their heads was Duck, but Harry hadn't seen or heard from the ANBU in a while. It was as Harry was pulling a fistful of grass out of Naruto's mouth that Kabe spoke.

"There's someone staring at you."

Harry paused in his task to turn towards the yard's gate. A young vested Shinobi stood across the street, staring darkly through the vertical slats of the gate and straight at the little group under the tree.

"At me?" Harry asked, turning away from the Shinobi staring at them.

Kabe only nodded as Anko smirked at their watcher, pulling a kunai out of somewhere – Harry thought her sleeve. "Want to test it?"

Before Harry could respond or ask what she was planning, Anko got to her feet and walked over to the old swing on the other side of the tree, twirling the kunai through her fingers as she went. Harry turned back to their watcher and the dark eyes still staring at him.

"At you," Kabe said behind him. Harry thought about pointing out that Kabe could be the one being watched, but didn't bother. Harry agreed to a point, though he was pretty sure that it was Naruto being watched, not him. There were some in the village who just watched him, their eyes shadowed, mean or suspicious – fearful. There were some in the village who had eyes like Vernon and Petunia had, and they watched him as he passed, watched Naruto as Harry carried him. Most didn't give Harry much attention unless he had Naruto with him.

Harry watched the Shinobi in return, ignoring the rippling of the waters in his mind and wondering if he was imagining the distant, barely-there killing intent or not. The youth finally turned and left, scuffing his feet into the dust on the road and jumping up onto the roofline. The boy gave one more, narrow look back at them before he flickered and disappeared.

"Who is he?" Harry asked.

Kabe shrugged. "Might be better to ask why he's staring at you."

"And generating a descent amount of killing intent in the process," Anko said as she came back around to them. Her kunai had been slipped into her hair. "What'd you do to tick him off, Hari?" she asked with a gleeful smirk.

Harry frowned. "Nothing."

"Well," she said, still far too happy for Harry's peace of mind. "You've managed to make an enemy! And you're not even a Genin yet." She clapped a hand hard onto his shoulder. "Good job, kid!"

Harry's frown didn't fade. He didn't think making an enemy was something to congratulate him for. And he hadn't done anything, and anyways, who was the watcher? Harry had had someone watch him like that before – Orochimaru; a situation that had not ended well in Harry's mind.

He didn't see the watcher again, though every once in a while, Harry thought he felt eyes on him.

o-

It was an early summer evening that Harry found himself with little to do and no desire to train alone. Namely, he had no desire to go through his usual training exercises that more often than not left him frustrated and either soggy (water walking), bruised (tree climbing) or his muscles twitching in protest (log rolling). Naruto was with Mikoto so Harry made his way towards the Uchiha district with intents on retrieving the infant early. He was halfway through a little used route of the neighborhood when he came across Itachi and his father. Harry stopped to watch them, curious about what they were doing perched on the end of a dock without a boat or fishing rods, staring out over the little pond with intent –

And then Fugaku breathed fire.

It wasn't a small stream, or even a little burst of flames, and Harry was positive that he spit it out of his mouth – a great flaming ball wider than the man was tall roared out across the water, sending spray up into steam and engulfing the space over the lake in a great display.

Harry had never seen anything like it.

He had lived in Konoha for years, had seen the use of various Shinobi arts before, most notably the Shunshin and Minato's transport technique and Kushina's chakra chains stood out starkly in his mind. But he had never seen anything like a great flaming ball before. It was nothing like the subtle techniques he knew. It was flashy and large and looked very destructive.

As he watched – stared – Itachi mirrored his father's actions, his hands flashing through seals before he rose one to his mouth and spit out a sphere of flames of his own. It wasn't quite as large as Fugaku's, but it was a small difference as the flames burned out over the pond, hot and dense.

Harry waited for father and son to finish their lesson. Moreso, he waited for the clan head to leave so he could approach Itachi without having to interact with the man. He did so, after a time, leaving the two boys with a few quite words to his son and an unreadable look for Harry. Itachi came to Harry.

"Fire?" Harry asked, once the younger boy was within hearing distance.

"A clan technique," Itachi said, something in his voice making Harry pause. He inspected the Uchiha, taking in the singed look of his hair, the soot on his hands and the red, likely burned patches on his fingers and chin. Underneath the surface wounds and the smoke residue was a strong thread of pride.

"Cool," Harry offered with a smile. It was an honest assessment. Harry thought that the great ball of fire spit out from one's mouth was rather cool.

"It is," Itachi said in a bout of self-pride that Harry thought was likely well earned. "Target practice, Hari?"

Harry nodded and let the boy lead him towards the Uchiha's target ground.

o-

Harry and Itachi were tied in the last few rounds of their game when Shisui came around, appearing beside them in a weak puff of smoke and dust.

The two younger boys stopped their contest, staring. Shisui was dressed in uniform, a battered one, and he was bloodied. His headband pushed up his hair into a short, wild array, and the older boy appeared to be favoring a leg. It took Harry a moment to realize that the other was wearing an ANBU uniform, though he was missing the usual animal mask.

"Shisui-san!"

"Hey boys," he greeted them, giving the two a small, slightly strained smile.

"Are you hurt badly?" Itachi asked, giving his cousin a critical once-over.

"No, I'll be fine." Shisui looked down at his bloody clothes, and gave them a sheepish look. "Most of its not mine. Sorry. I was on my way home when I saw you here. I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's alright," Itachi told him.

"Is Minato –" Harry started, knowing that Shisui was one of the blonde's guards.

Shisui quickly waved his hand dismissively. "No no, Minato-sama is fine. I was on a mission."

Harry relaxed, keeping an eye on how the older boy walked. Shisui was definitely favoring his left leg.

"Who's winning?" he asked them.

Harry pointed to Itachi, who shrugged. Shisui looked around the field, eyeing the fencing that separated the area from the housing on the other side. He looked a little distracted, but before either of the boys could call him on it, he spoke.

"Are you two hungry?"

Harry and Itachi looked at each other. It was late, and neither had eaten in a while, and both were a little sweaty and tired from their training.

"You look it," Shisui said. "Come on, I think I've got tea and ramen at least."

Harry and Itachi collected their strewn weapons and followed Shisui off the field. The older boy led them through a short route behind the Uchiha houses and up a steep flight of stairs over an Onigori shop.

"I don't think you've been here before, Hari-kun," he said, unlocking the door and pushing it open a hands-breadth. He reached into the narrow space and fiddled with something out of their view. "This is my place." Shisui gave the two a smile and done with whatever he had been doing, pushed the door all the way open.

Harry followed the two Uchihas inside, and eyed the frame of the door. A long, narrow paper tag stretched down the wall beside the doorframe, covered in a curving script. It was a seal, and if he read it correctly, it was a fire release tag, probably set to trap someone if they opened the door unaware.

Harry briefly wondered why Kushina never laid traps at the house, but then thought of the tags that lay almost hidden along the top edges of all the windows and the banners of red scripts that decorated each room, their brush strokes speaking of Kushina's firm, sure hand. They had always reminded him of seals, and now he wondered about them.

"Ah, tea first, I think," Shisui was saying. Harry shook his head and focused on the young Uchiha bustling about the small kitchen. He shed weapons as he set up a tea service, looking quite at home and considerably more at ease than he had in the training ground.

Itachi watched him with an unreadable look, and more than once Harry caught the younger boy eyeing the windows, his eyes shadowed.

"Sit, sit, boys!" Shisui said, waving them towards a low table in the corner. Harry and Itachi knelt on opposite sides and watched the older boy.

Visible weapons left on the kitchen counters and with teapot steaming hotly, Shisui joined them. Itachi moved the cups and little plate of biscuits and Harry just watched. The boy was moving with careful, practiced motions as if going through a long known routine.

Itachi poured tea into their cups and the two Uchiha's seemed to settle onto their heels as if from relief.

Harry shrugged, and wrapped his hands around the hot little cup of tea, savoring its scent and eyeing the chocolate covered biscuits.

Shisui spoke suddenly, just as the tea was cooling enough to sip. "Where is Duck today, Hari-kun?"

Harry shrugged, and glanced out the window across the space of the living room. He could just make out the top of the roofline of the buildings across the street, but he didn't see any familiar masked figures there. He was not surprised at this.

"He'll be around," Harry assured. Duck usually came and went without Harry's knowledge. There were days when Duck was always there, flipping pages in his book, and Harry wondered if the masked teen ever slept, and then there would be a week where Harry wouldn't even see or hear him at all.

"Shisui," Itachi started, getting his cousin's attention. "What was your mission?"

Shisui's smile held a hint of indulgence that made both of the boys frown. "Hokage sent me out to find some information is all," he told them.

"It's classified," Itachi said bluntly.

"Yes."

Harry scowled at the teen's evasive answers, his expression mirroring Itachi's. The younger Uchiha tried another line of questions.

"Why did you join the Hokage's Guard Squad, Shisui?"

Shisui made a thoughtful humming sound and sipped at his tea. "Why do you want to be Shinobi, Itachi-kun?"

"It is expected."

Harry stared at his friend, surprised by his answer.

"And you, Hisui-kun?" Shisui asked.

Harry answered automatically, still distracted by Itachi's reasons. "To protect my precious people."

"Ah, yes."

"What about you, Shisui?" Harry asked.

"Why I became Shinobi?" Shisui set his tea down, leaving his fingers wrapped around the little porcelain cup. "I started like Itachi, because it was expected of me, as Uchiha. But then I learned that in order to protect, I needed to be strong. Our cousin taught me that."

"Our cousin?" Itachi asked.

Shisui smiled, but turned his face towards Harry. "I believe you knew him, Hisui. Our cousin taught me the value of protecting those we hold dear, with all our might, even to our greatest sacrifice."

Harry knew who he was speaking of. "Obito."

"Yes, exactly," Shisui said, "He told me once that to protect is the greatest goal."

"Is that why you joined Minato's guard?" Harry asked. "To protect?"

"Yes, I suppose so," Shisui said, his smile now holding a hint of conspiracy. "I joined Hokage's guard to protect, yes, but mostly because he asked me to, and it is a great honor." Shisui gestured to his white vest and uniform. "I joined ANBU to protect peace; the peace of this village."

"So that is why you became Shinobi?" Itachi asked.

"It is why I continued to be Shinobi," Shisui clarified. "Yes, I believe that to protect peace from the shadows, is the greatest sacrifice and achievement. And the ANBU are Konoha's shadows."

The two boys were silent at that, and Harry turned the teen's words over in his mind, thinking of Minato's guards and the ANBU shadows and all the Shinobi of the leaf. Harry had become Shinobi to be like Kushina. Was that like Shisui and Itachi, joining the Academy because of expectation? But Harry also continued to train in order to become stronger, so he could protect Naruto. And his desire to protect was what drove him now.

Harry looked Shisui over, taking in the dirt and the visible bruises and the general weariness of the older boy's body. He had taken injuries on a secret mission that only a few would know he had been sent on. Harry wondered about what it took for that, then thought of little Naruto and he knew.

Naruto made Harry strong. Was peace the thing that drove Shisui?

"How is your training, Itachi?" Shisui asked into the silence.

"Well, cousin," Itachi said, and continued to explain the successes and frustrations of his training. Harry listened and answered in turn when Shisui asked him the same question. The three males drank their tea, munched on snacks and when the ramen was finished, ate happily and fully.

The sun sunk and the two Uchiha escorted Harry all the way to Mikoto's where they exchanged Itachi for the sleepy and cranky Naruto. Shisui, his uniform hidden by a long jacket, entertained the little blonde over Harry's shoulder with tiny little bursts of fire out of his mouth all the way home.

Harry wondered if all Uchiha could spit fire.

o-

When the glares from the villagers did not abate by mid-summer, but only spread and increased in frequency, Harry told Minato about it. They were in their kitchen, Harry preparing a dinner of thick meaty sandwiches while the blonde distracted a happy baby by tickling his belly. Harry waited until halfway through their meal before broaching the subject of the mean looks.

"Have they harmed you?" Minato asked, his eyes hard and deeply cold.

Harry voiced his response quickly in the face of the man's ire. "No."

"They yell at you?"

"A little."

Minato's frown thinned more. "It was supposed to have been kept secret."

Harry didn't have to ask what he was talking about. He knew that the fox being sealed away was supposed to be secret. Minato had asked him – told him – to not tell anybody. Harry hadn't.

"What exactly do they do?" Minato asked him, watching Harry very intently. Harry told him. The villagers glared and sneered, eyeing Naruto with distrustful, hate filled eyes. They didn't give him quite the same looks, but it was close. Harry could tell the difference when he walked the streets without the infant. Some people distrusted him, but they hated Naruto. It wasn't everybody, not even very many, but there were enough now that it made Harry a little cautious in the village's streets and thankful of Duck's usual presence nearby.

The blonde Hokage listened to him carefully, so tightly wound that Harry could feel the tendrils of killing intent leaking off the man in cold ripples. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and goose bumps trail down his arms all the way from his shoulders.

Namikaze Minato was not pleased.

The Hokage stood once Harry was done and with barely a word, he gripped the boy's shoulder and executed a rocky jump out of their kitchen. Harry sucked in a startled breath at the sudden rough handling, the sound drowned out by the trailing rumble of thunder that followed them and sounded through the air with a loud crack.

It was the first time Harry had seen the man use chakra since That Last Night, and it hadn't been a smooth use of it either. Harry felt nauseous and battered by the trip and he was pretty sure his hair had been singed by lightning somewhere along the way.

Harry didn't stumble, but it was a near thing. Minato was already moving by the time he got his bearings and took in his surroundings. They had been jumped to the Hokage's office; not the Missions Office where Minato or the Third often sat to hand out mission assignments, but the private office at the top of the Hokage's residence tower that overlooked the village on one side and butted up close to the monument on the other. Harry had only been in the office a few times.

Minato didn't seem much affected by his rough use of chakra, though Naruto was hiccupping into the blonde's shoulder. The Hokage paced from his desk to the shelving along one interior wall, to the door that led out to the waiting room where a single Chunin aide jumped at the sudden appearance of the man.

"Get Sarutobi in here!" Minato demanded. Harry heard the Chunin stumble out a "yessir" just before the blonde closed the door to return to his desk.

Minato moved in a tightly controlled flurry that set Naruto on edge enough to fuss through the hiccups. The Hokage finally passed the infant to Harry, who decided to just get out of the man's way and took up sentinel in Minato's chair and tried to soothe the disgruntled infant.

Soon enough, they were joined by a small gathering of Shinobi: the Third, a white-cloaked ANBU with the red trim of a Captain, Duck, three elders who looked important but whom Harry didn't know and a wide-shouldered man with a furry collared coat and a scar cut across his nose who Minato called Nara.

Minato began their impromptu meeting bluntly.

"Who let out the S-Class secret that my sons are a Living Sacrifice?"

Harry ignored the glances sent his way by most of the group, largely distracted at being claimed as a son by the man, and not nearly disturbed as being called a Sacrifice as he thought he maybe ought to be.

"It – has been leaked?" Nara asked, something in his voice dark and hard.

Minato spared him an equally icy look. "There are villagers harassing my sons," he said in clipped tones.

Nara frowned. "Civilian or Shinobi?"

"Both," Harry piped up from his spot in Minato's desk chair. The Hokage turned around from his position in front of the desk to look at him. "Mostly civilian."

"For the most part it seems to be civilians with Shinobi ties, who have lost someone to the attack," Duck commented.

Minato gave the ANBU guard a withering look, which had him hunching his shoulders sheepishly. "And why did you not report this to me earlier?"

"They did not appear to be threatening," Duck explained, his head still lowered between his shoulders making the white of his mask stick out from his collar. "Only angry, and occasionally vocal. At first it was only one or two civilians, but it seems the news has spread over the recent month or two. There are perhaps two dozen or more who have voiced negativity towards –"

"Months?" Minato nearly hissed out.

"A few civilians can hardly do even an Academy student much harm," the ANBU Captain said, coming to Duck's rescue. His voice was deep and low, but strangely melodious at the same time. A soothing sound, Harry thought. He agreed with the man, somewhat. Harry was in training and a few civilians weren't much of a threat with his ability to escape. But Harry wasn't always alone and running with Naruto would slow him down.

"It happens most when I am with Naruto," Harry said.

Minato's bright blue eyes cut back across his shoulder and Harry nearly flinched, ashamed at his inability to protect the baby. He wasn't strong enough. Minato's look softened at the near-flinch.

"An S-Class secret has been leaked to civilians," the Hokage said. Harry couldn't see the man's face with him turned back to the group gathered in the room, but he knew he'd see ice in the man's eyes. He could hear it in his voice, feel it chilling the air surrounding the blonde like he were a glacier. "As of two months ago only the people in this room plus the two Sannin were aware of the existence of a Living Sacrifice. Was I mistaken?"

Harry watched the elders glance between themselves and the Third, even as Nara frowned at the ANBU Captain.

"You were in a chakra coma for four months, Namikaze-san," the elder woman finally said, as if that explained everything.

"I had left strict instructions," the Hokage countered.

Harry frowned, realizing that Minato hadn't expected to live, or was just very thorough in his contingency plans. He hoped it was the later.

"Hiruzen-san had returned to his position," the woman said, "when you did not wake."

Minato clearly turned his ire onto his predecessor.

The Third sighed at the attention and pulled his unlit pipe out of his mouth. "Those who lost someone to the fox deserved to know – "

The Hokage interrupted him with a sharp, "Nothing."

The Third frowned. "The fear would have festered and built, Minato," he said. "They needed to know that the nine-tails had been resealed."

"Into my sons!"

"Only that it was resealed," the Third said. "Not that there are now two hosts. They must have simply assumed on which of your boys it was sealed into."

And they had assumed that it was Naruto.

Harry could feel the tightly controlled emotions within the blonde, it nearly drowned out everything else in Harry's senses. The waters in his head rippled at them, agitated and distracting Harry. He ignored the speculative looks given him by the little group.

"You expected civilians to be able to keep that secret?" Minato asked, and without giving any of them time to respond, "Now it is known who the Jinchuriki for the nine-tails is. Do you have any idea the danger you have put my son into Hiruzen!? Did you think of that before you let loose an S-Class secret to a host of civilian mourners to allay their fears?"

"It will serve to protect the boy as well," the Third said.

Minato made a sharp gesture with his good arm, but seemed too mad to say anything else. He paced instead, six paces one way, six the other, back and forth before the desk. Harry followed the man with his eyes even as he caught sight of the others beyond the blonde. They kept their eyes on the Hokage as well, though Harry caught the curious looks from the elders past the blonde's pacing form.

Minato stopped suddenly, his face blank and the feelings wavering off of him soothed down into something calm, or hidden.

"Duck," the Hokage said, his voice echoing the blankness of his face. "Please take my boys to one of the bedrooms down the hall. We will be staying here tonight."

Duck bowed his head and gave a soft, "yessir."

Harry let his guard guide him out of the office. They exited a different door than the one through which Minato had yelled for the Chunin aide, and Harry looked around the room curiously. It was another short hallway, decorated simply and sporting a few doors on either side – all closed.

"Where are we?" Harry asked.

"This is the Hokage's residence," Duck told him, still guiding him down the hallway.

"Why isn't Minato living here?"

"He stays here sometimes," Duck said. "If he's working late. He has dinner with you most nights, though, right, Hisui?"

Harry looked up at the masked teen. He didn't think he'd ever heard Duck call him by his name before. Though, they rarely ever had a conversation, either.

"Here," Duck said, pushing them all into a room. "This will do."

It was a narrow, but long room with a tall ceiling and an equally tall and narrow window at the opposite end. A raised loft butted along one long wall, cutting the room into a general L-shape. It was sparsely furnished, with a high table or desk and a short row of shelving in the corner by the window. Harry scaled the narrow steps to the raised floor to find a rolled futon and blankets tucked along the wall.

"There's a closet under here," Duck said, opening the short door beneath the raised platform and poking his head inside. "And a bathroom across the hall."

Harry looked around the room, missing the short, slanted ceiling of his bedroom at Kushina's row house and the comfort of the familiar presence of Kakashi sleeping across the room from him.

"What about Rin and Kakashi?" Harry asked.

"I'll send them a note to know where you are."

And before Harry could continue, "You should sleep, Hisui," Duck told him. "It's getting late."

Harry rolled out the futon and curled up on it with Naruto. Duck took up sentinel near the window, his mask still firmly in place and looking quite comfortable in his perch.

Sometime through the night the door opened, and Harry spotted Minato's silhouette and his bright hair. He thought he heard the man whisper something, but in the morning, he forgot all about it.

o-

The household split into two after that. Kakashi and Rin remained at Kushina's yellow house. Harry and Naruto then moved fully into the tower residence and the L-shaped room.

"Its safer," Minato said, as they carried boxes of their belongings into the tower. "The only reason we hadn't moved fully in before was that Kushina preferred her house, and our marriage was a secret. It was safer for her to be there. But the tower is better protected and I would be comforted knowing that you and Naruto are here now."

Harry just nodded and went about unpacking the stack of red-scribbled scrolls that once adorned Kushina's living room. He was going to hang them around his new bedroom.

"The house is yours though, Hisui," Minato told him, watching Harry's progress.

Harry paused and stared at the man. "Mine?"

"Yes," he said with a smile.

Harry continued to stare.

"But… Naruto…"

Minato leaned down to his level. "Naruto is her son, but so are you, Hisui. Kushina would have wanted you to have it. If you want to continue to live there later, you can."

Harry thought about it carefully, weighing his desire to live in the house against his desire to remain next to Naruto. Naruto won.

"I'll live here," he said.

Minato nodded and ran his good hand through Harry's wild hair. "I thought you might. Kakashi and Rin will take care of the house for you. You can move back anytime you like." Then he grinned, wide and bright. "You might want to once you get older."

Harry wasn't so sure he'd want to sleep anywhere but near Naruto, but didn't say so.

o-

Their move into the Hokage's residence didn't go unnoticed, but nor did it much affect Harry's daily routine. The stares and glares from various villagers remained, but Duck had taken to being quite visible in his trailing of Harry while in the village. Nobody did more than glare and Harry learned to identify the glarers very quickly and keep his own distance in turn – especially if he had Naruto with him. It seemed to be a mutual peace.

His friends and classmates commented on the move in the first few days, though Idate was more interested in his relationship to the Hokage rather than where he was living.

"Is it true that the little blonde kid is the Hokage's son?" Idate asked him one afternoon in the yard.

"Come on, Idate!" Lin said before Harry could respond. "Rumors again?"

"What? Rumors are a perfectly good source of intel!"

Lin scowled at the lanky boy.

"Besides, Harry carts the kid around all the time," Idate continued, "He'd know. Not rumor then, is it?"

Harry, recalling Minato's rules on what he could talk about and what he couldn't, answered, "Yes."

Lin stared at him while Idate crowed in triumph.

"Who's the mother?" Lin asked.

Harry shrugged, looking away. That was one thing he wasn't really comfortable talking about. It was no longer on Minato's list of things not to say, but Harry wasn't keen on speaking about Kushina. He still missed her too much, no matter that it had been months since she died.

"Does it matter?" Idate asked, "he wasn't married anyways. No matter who she was, it was still out of wedlock."

"They were married," Harry countered, a little angry.

Idate blinked at him in surprise. "Alright…"

"Anyways," Lin said, cuffing Idate. "Who cares? Check this out!"

The girl flipped the ropes of her red hair back over her shoulder and held out her hand, palm up. The two boys stared at it, then at her.

"Watch!" she commanded.

They did as she told them and as they eyed her hand a little bug crawled out from under her sleeve, scuttling across her wrist to run slow circles around her open palm. It was a many-legged, dark thing, with a spot of brown in the center of its back. It was no bigger than a thumbprint.

"A spider?"

"My dad gave him to me," Lin said proudly, showing off the bug. "Isn't he beautiful?"

"Uh-huh. Are you crazy?" Idate asked. He was staring at it with a strange expression that bordered on fear. "Is it poisonous?"

"Of course," Lin said happily, pushing her hand closer to Idate, who leaned equally away from it. "Well, lightly so anyways. He's a protector spider. My family breeds arachnids. Hachi here is my first charge!"

"Hachi? You named it!"

"Of course I named him!"

"It's a bug!"

"He's an arachnid!"

Harry let out a silent breath and took a couple silent, slow steps away from the two, watching as the spider in Lin's hand scuttled in increasingly agitated circles.

"Do you think it can jump?" a voice asked from his side.

Harry looked around and down to find Itachi watching the argument with mild curiosity.

"Possible," Harry said. "I didn't want to be close enough for it to jump on me."

Itachi's lips twitched into something that could have turned into a smile, but didn't quite make it that far.

Their current yard instructor, whose name changed every day someone asked him, interrupted what could have degenerated into a good little spar, or a display on spider jumping abilities.

"Lin, Harry! Match it up!" their tall, masked sensei wandered over to split the group up. Harry eyed the man's head curiously, as he usually did ever since the teen appeared in the yard as their instructor. His face was masked, but not like Kakashi's was. Their new yard instructor had wrapped wide bandages around the top of his head, over his forehead, eyes and all the way down to his ears. Harry guessed he was about the age of Genma, but it was hard to tell without being able to see half his face.

None of the students knew his real name, either. The teen gave them a different name on a daily basis. Kabe had taken to making a chart, marking all the names on a calendar and looking for a pattern, but Harry had stopped trying to keep track of them days ago.

"You're all up for final testing in the next year," their instructor said. "Focus!"

"Yeah, yeah, Tara-sensei," Idate grumbled, happily edging away from Lin.

"Tara?" Itachi said, soft enough that probably only Harry heard him.

Harry just shrugged. "I thought sensei had switched to Toka today, or was it Tonbo?"

"I stopped keeping track," Itachi admitted, which made Harry smile.

"Let's go!" their many-named instructor called, making shooing motions at Idate while simultaneously crooking a finger towards Harry and Itachi. "Match it up!"

Lin pocketed her little friend, and with a final glare at Idate she stomped her way over to Harry. "Come on," she said, dragging him away from the others and into an open space. Harry let her, catching Itachi's almost-amused look and Idate's considering sizing-up of their youngest classmate.

"Can it jump?" Harry asked once Lin let go of him.

The red-head huffed angrily and threw up her fists. Harry hopped back away from the hostile stance.

"Maybe I'll sick him on you and you can find out!" she retorted hotly.

Harry decided that he'd probably never ask the girl about her spiders again. It seemed to just make her angry. She started at him with quick, angry strikes that sent her dreadlocked hair flying and Harry was a little hard pressed to keep up with her, blocking her attacks with hastily thrown up forearms.

Harry and Itachi still didn't know if Lin's spider could jump or not.

o-

Naruto's first birthday was marked by an assassination attempt.

o-

**Author's Commentary: **The Morino family isn't canonically a major Clan. For the sake of this story, you can assume there are generally three levels of clans in Konoha: the Noble Clans (Aburame, Akimichi, Hyuga and Uchiha) the Major Clans (Inuzuka, Nara, Sarutobi, Senju and Yamanaka) and the Minor Clans, of which the Morino are one, and likely also the Uzumaki. I am curious why the Senju aren't considered a noble clan in canon though. Maybe it is and my information is dated…

Genma is about eighteen, and Shisui is eleven or twelve (three years older than Harry). He's probably a Chunin about now.

I need an Uchiha Clan hand-to-hand style… anybody got some good ideas?

Erm… sorry about the cliffhanger? At least the chapter was a long one…

**From the Crystal Ball: **

"Now, see here," Hermione said, "Our magic isn't all parlour tricks and nonsense!"

Harry was about to respond but she cut him off before he could say a word.

"You can't base your opinions on the simple lessons in school!" She said, "Magic is a vast and complex field of study and the spells a child learns in school are only the basis of it. They are designed to teach us how to use wands, and to exercise our magic. They are not useless!"

Harry still hadn't figured out a use for turning a cockroach into a button, but he was rather fond of being able to turn little sticks into little sharp needles. He could use that one, he had all sorts of ideas for that one, but somehow he doubted that the girl would appreciate any of them.

"I'll show you," Hermione said, raising her chin up and brandishing her wand solemnly. "Aguamenti."

Harry watched the stream of water come from her wand with curiosity. It splashed down onto the stones around the lake like a fountain of soft rain.

"Very handy if there should ever be a fire," Hermione said, most of her concentration still on her wand.

"Or for watering plants," Neville commented from his seat against the tree.

"Or filling your brothers' drawers with," Ginny said. Harry raised his eyebrows at the red-head but she only shrugged, completely unabashed and looking a little feral all at the same time.

Hermione ended her spell and looked at him with unhidden satisfaction.

Harry only nodded, the fingers of one hand curled under his chin as he thought of the best way to respond.

Boar. Dog. Ram. Harry's hands flew through the handseals quickly, and he saw his companions all take a step back at the motions. Neville even went so far as to scramble around the base of the tree as Harry gripped one wrist and held his hand out towards the expanse of grounds. The Black Lake stretched behind him and energy surged up through his arm and spiraled in his hand and he heard the lake's waters shift behind him.

His friends only heard his Japanese intonation, "Suiton: Hohanryu."

And the lake surged. Harry didn't see the wave but he could feel his chakra laced through the water rising high over his head and just as it was about to crest and roll over the grounds like a tearing tsunami he let the technique go.

Water rained heavily down on them all, splashing onto the bank in buckets. It drenched everyone, collecting into deep puddles and sending the grassy earth into a muddy landscape. Harry just stood through it, rather enjoying the feel of the water falling on his head and watching his companions scramble and curse at it all.

Hermione was the only one who hadn't gone running for cover, or gone running at all. She stood in the exact same spot as she had when she cast her watering spell, and she was as dry as she had been when they left the castle. Her expression was a little stormy and she was meeting Harry's eyes with an annoyed look.

"Must all your spells be destructive, Hisui?" she asked.

Harry shrugged, sheepish, and wondered what technique she had used to stay dry through his Water Tearing Torrent.


	7. The Legacy of Clan Uzumaki

**EDIT NOTICE: **April 2014. All previous chapters have been edited. For returning readers: the Uzumaki clan's taijutsu has been removed, and it has done little to affect the grand scheme of things. No other major changes have been made, most edits were grammatical.

**Author's Note:** As far as I can find, the Uchiha Interceptor Fist Style (or any other specific Uchiha Taijutsu style) is a work of fanfiction. If anybody has evidence of it being canonical, I'm happy to be proven wrong in my research. Regardless, it's got a good ring to it.

**Chapter Disclaimer: **This chapter contains another reference to a scene from The Girl From Whirlpool, by SilverShine. which is a story I love (can you tell?) and I demand you go read it and bother her to update it as much as ya'll bother me to update this...

**Author's Second Note:** I liiivve!

o- **The Legacy of Clan Uzumaki** -o

By: Renatus

Naruto's first birthday was marked by an assassination attempt.

It was the end of fall after Harry's ninth birthday. The early October evening was cool and breezy with the threat of a storm to blow in before the night was through. Rin had thrown open all the windows of the house to let the fresh air in and the heat from the stove out. Harry sat at the table, enjoying the cool air and the smells from the dinner Rin was preparing, distracting the energetic little blonde in his lap with a handful of crayons and the white tablecloth. Naruto was currently scribbling a bright green in wide arcs across the blue circles Harry drew.

"Are your studies going well, Hisui?" Rin asked. Harry looked up at her, taking in her hair, which she'd pulled up into a ponytail, and the pink apron wrapped around her torso.

"Only if they don't ask me to do clones," Harry said sourly. And so long as the fox doesn't fight him too hard, he thought.

"Still having trouble with chakra control?"

Harry scowled, "yes."

Rin gave him a sympathetic look. "You'll get the hang of it eventually. And I'm sure your tests will go well in the spring."

Harry didn't really share her optimism, but he was stubborn enough to keep trying regardless. He was determined to be able to do a technique without fighting with the stupid fox in his head every time.

Sudden silence from the kitchen made Harry pause and look up again. Rin was standing still, staring out of the window to the darkening yard, a sliver of anxious worry crinkling her brow and eyes. They were waiting on Kakashi and Minato, and both were late for reasons that Harry didn't know, but he suspected that Rin did. Her occasional pauses in her action tipped him off to the seriousness of whatever mission Kakashi had been sent out on. Minato would unlikely leave the missions office, or his own office in the tower until his first student returned safely. Harry hoped they wouldn't be waiting too long. He hoped that Kakashi was alright.

Naruto's sudden chanting drew both of their attentions away from the window. "Isui! Isui! Isui!"

"Hey," Harry said, grabbing the toddler's wildly waving fist and the crayon-turned-weapon that was stabbing dangerously close to his eye. "Careful."

"He has so much energy," Rin commented.

Harry nodded, returning to coloring blue circles across the tabletop for Naruto to cross out. Over the toddler's happy gibberish Harry heard the sounds of Rin returning to her cooking.

With the noise, neither of them heard the approaching footsteps until there was a scuff of a sandal just outside the backdoor. It was an entirely foreign sound to the house. None of its visitors made such a noise while walking – especially the two missing dinner attendants. Harry's head shot up just as the door banged open with a thunderous crash.

A darkly dressed and masked figure burst through the doorway, silver glinting ahead of him. There was the clang of metal on metal and Rin's kitchen knife embedded itself into one of the walls. Harry hadn't even seen her throw it she had reacted so fast.

The intruder moved quickly, advancing on Rin even as a second followed him into the house. Harry sunk down underneath the table, his mind entirely on protecting the child in his arms.

The fight in the kitchen was quick and loud and ended with a sharp, pained cry from both the combatants. Rin's sound of pain rang loud in Harry's ears.

By the time she yelled out, the second intruder had crouched down beside the table.

Harry glared at the masked face, his only weapon a handful of bamboo chopsticks and the crayons that had scattered across the floor. He thought of his weapons and tags, all tucked away in his tool pouches, all stacked neatly by the back door in the kitchen – he lashed out with his foot instead. He hit the man's shin first, and emboldened by his success, struck again. The man caught his ankle with a harsh grip and dragged him out from under the table. Harry lashed out with his second leg, swinging it up with all his strength and catching the man squarely in his chin.

He recoiled, clutching his jaw and Harry saw the sharp anger that flashed through his eyes.

"Little brat."

"Get the kid already!" the one from the kitchen ground out.

"I'm working on it," the man over him said, reaching for him again. Harry scuttled backwards, his progress hindered by the struggling toddler he held to his chest and his worry for the silent Rin. He almost made it to the front door before he was stopped.

Harry kicked out but was again grabbed and dragged back across the floor. A heavy sandaled foot struck him in the soft portion of his side, digging deep into muscle and tissue and organs. Harry cried out in pain at the strike and was wholly unprepared for the second that landed in the same spot. It made him curl tightly around his middle, the action instinctive and protective. Naruto's scared cries were loud in his ears and he could do little to fend off the hands that pried at his arms.

A third blow struck his back, hitting him squarely in a kidney.

"Give it up, brat."

"Move it Shoshi!"

Harry fought, but he couldn't prevent the two men from prying his arms apart, away from Naruto, and he cried out in anger and pain as the little blonde was taken from him, his voice joining Naruto's in the house.

"I said shut up, kid," and Harry was kicked again, the blow striking his diaphragm and leaving him gasping and winded and his eyes watering. He couldn't yell. He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't hear Naruto.

Harry struggled against his body's desire to pass out and sleep. He forced himself to his hands and knees, gulping in air and half crawled half stumbled across the floor to the kitchen.

It looked like a great struggle had occurred. Vegetables and dish ware had been knocked off the counters, joining Harry's tool pouches and the downed Rin. She was slouched against the fridge, her chin low and tucked into her chest. One arm was bloodied from shoulder to elbow and dripped onto the floor in a steady pattern.

Harry snuggled up close to her, putting his ear against her stomach, unable to raise himself much higher. Her heartbeat sounded muted against the side of his head.

"Hisui –"

Her fingers brushed against the top of his head, soft and shaky. "I'm alright."

"They took him," Harry choked out.

Rin's breath was a little ragged, occasionally hitched in pain.

"Naruto –"

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, his emotions swirling dark and hot and the waters in his mind were rising. His anger and desperation sank deep and the sky in his mind was turning dark and cloudy.

"No," he whispered, denying the fox.

Rin's voice was dim through the angry bubbling of the well. "Sensei will find him."

But Minato didn't know.

Harry pushed himself up, his anger and rising determination dulling the pain of his torso. He pulled one of his pouches towards him, his hip bag, and gripped the sturdy canvas tightly in his fist. The heat of his anger rushed through him, carrying the memory of Naruto's scared cries with it.

The waters retreated and surged, splashing against the knot work of chains that held it down. Harry repeated his denial, though whether it was from Naruto being taken or the fox attempting to get out he wasn't sure.

The waters hissed up at him, sinuous and serpentine, yellow eyes glowing out at him through the chains even as the waters leaked through the links. The waters rose to a boil that splashed out hot and sizzling into the mud around the well, collecting and slithering towards him like a snake. Harry felt it wrap up around his leg, his torso to settle around his collar and ribcage. The watery serpent hissed at him and Harry hissed in return and suddenly it struck.

Something in him snapped, and the tolling sound of chains rattled across his mind followed by a rush of boiling water that surged into his limbs from the point the snake bit – his shoulder, just behind his collar.

Harry was up and racing out the door before he even realized what he was doing.

o-

Harry didn't know what guided him except that he heard Naruto and followed the sound. His vision was hazed dark and red at the corners but it didn't slow his sprint through the streets. Nor did the action of strapping his hip bag back to the place it should have been – on his belt.

It wasn't fast enough. They had too much of a head start, they were faster than he was, he was too slow, too heavy. He needed more speed. He pushed hard, and pulled deep and speed came from some far off corner and Harry dashed after the sound of his little brother's echoing cries, suddenly light on his feet.

He heard them before he saw them, but it was a narrow difference.

They weren't running very fast, and as Harry gained ground he could tell that they were slinking across the rooftops trying to stay hidden. It allowed his winding race through the streets to keep pace even as they took a more direct route towards the village walls and the training grounds that lay outside.

Harry caught them in a park just shy of the wall.

The two paused at the base of the tall village wall but Harry didn't even slow down.

His target barely had time to turn before Harry barreled into him at full speed. His shoulder dug deep into the man's gut. They didn't move much. The larger man let out a woosh of air, his arms locking around Harry's shoulders and head, his feet dug solidly into the ground.

Harry's right shoulder was numb from the blow and he couldn't move his arm, but he got his feet under him enough to slip a paper tag from the pouch strapped to his belt. He slapped it onto the man's leg and it activated almost instantly.

A surge of electricity shot through both their bodies, making the man cry out in shock and pain. Harry felt his body tremble from the surge, and stumbled backwards, his fingers tingling and feeling like sparks were rocketing around in his mouth.

He was grabbed roughly by the scruff of his neck and thrown away like a sack of potatoes. Harry rolled and skidded across the ground, and pushed himself up to a crouch. His body was shaking, burning, and Naruto's cries had only increased in volume and they echoed in his mind like a stream of tolling bells. It didn't drown out the roaring of the waters.

"Damnit," ground out the first man, squinting and twitching.

"He's fast for such a little brat," the second said. He held Naruto against his chest with one thick arm. He had thrown Harry halfway across the park.

His downed partner was already pushing himself to his feet and Harry felt satisfaction in the sight of him having to use the wall for purchase. "How'd he follow us?"

"Doesn't matter," the larger one passed Naruto over with little gentleness. Harry narrowed his eyes, catching sight of Naruto's closed eyes and sleeping face – even as his cries still echoed in his mind. Harry's anger burned over his curiosity, though.

"Make sure he doesn't follow us again. We need to get to the forest."

The larger man advanced but Harry's attention was mostly on Naruto and the kidnapper scaling the wall with him. His split attention cost him.

The ground surged under his feet and Harry stumbled against the rock that was no longer solid. It crawled up his shins like living molasses, anchoring him to unsteady ground and preventing him from giving chase. Harry struggled against it, pulling one leg up and out of the sticky stuff only for his other foot to sink further in.

"Stubborn kid," the man ground out. "Let me give you some advice. Quit struggling."

Harry ignored him and tried to find purchase in the heaving and liquidated ground.

"You'll only sink faster, kid," the man said, his smirk clear in his voice even while his dark mask hid his face.

He was right. The sticky mud had sucked him down to his knees and Harry couldn't move out of the area of its effect without sinking further in. The man had turned the usually solid earth into a sticky quicksand.

Harry heard the man chuckle darkly. He looked frantically up the tall village wall but the kidnapper had disappeared into the trees beyond, Naruto with him. Harry was torn between struggling against the technique holding him with all his strength and the warning words the man gave to him to avoid doing exactly that.

It didn't seem to be making much of a difference. He was still sinking, only slower. Harry sucked in his breath as the ground crawled up his thighs, trapping him further in the earth. A snarl rose through him, fueled by frustration.

"Hisui!"

Harry whipped his head around in time to see Duck slam his hands into the ground. They met solid earth and thick trees shot up out of the ground in a long line straight to Harry. They grew fast and tall and thick straight out of the muddy earth, sprouting wide branches that blossomed into leaves. He felt one grow up at the bottom of his feet through the molasses and push. Harry let his legs fold as the quicksand slid away and suddenly the growing tree propelled him hard and fast out of the sinking earth and into the sky.

Harry flew high and dropped just as fast. He flailed slightly at the summit of his flight, the sudden weightless feeling strange and jarring and suddenly he was falling. Straight towards his target. Harry tucked in his arms, crossing them in front of his head and rolled into a ball and let the weight of his unusually heavy body pull him to the ground in an increasing pace.

He dropped like a ton of stone.

The masked man's eyes widened as Harry freefalled into him. They collided hard, Harry's weight and momentum driving the ninja to the ground.

Harry rolled away from him, dazed, bruised and his shoulder still numb while his arm pulsed with dull shooting pains. He tried to stand but fell just as fast. His limbs felt heavy, as if weights had been strapped to his wrists and ankles, slowing him, holding him down.

He focused on his opponent, searching the area for him, and finding him sprawled across the grass not far away. He was still, except for his chest rising and falling in a slow, shallow rhythm.

Someone's feet jumped into view and crouched down next to the masked ninja and Harry recognized Duck's white mask.

Duck pressed his fingers to the man's neck. The man didn't move and something in Harry dismissed him. Duck rose and approached Harry, helping him to his feet with obvious effort. Harry wavered once then found his balance again. There was a roaring in his ears that nearly drowned out the sound of Naruto's cries.

Duck spoke but Harry was no longer hearing.

"Naruto –" Harry said, eyeing the tall wall. He moved towards it without thought, fighting through the heavy sluggishness of his limbs. He needed to move. He needed to hurry. His body cooperated, slowly moving faster, and then quicker, the strange heaviness weighing him down lifting as if he were shedding weighted packs – but his motion was stopped. Harry followed his shoulder and arm with his eyes to find a hand holding him back. Duck.

"Let me go," Harry said.

Harry saw Duck's head move and a distant sound of a voice filtered into his mind. He shook his head and repeated his words, but Duck's hand did not let him go. Harry frowned at the restraint, his mind filled with snarls and cries and Naruto's voice growing dimmer with each passing second –

Harry lashed out.

The ANBU retreated, his mask scratched by Harry's clawing swipe, but his only thought was that he was now free and Harry turned back to his pursuit. The wall was a hindrance, an obstacle, but he ran towards it anyways. He needed speed and lightness, and with barely a thought he ran up the side of the steep stone, digging the toes of his sandals into the barely-there crevices, scratching at the surface of the wall for purchase, scaling it foot by foot with nothing but determination to drive him to its peak.

He topped it and sprang off its edge and sailed into the trees beyond, following a path that he couldn't see and could only hear in his head. He barely realized his own actions, taking note only that the trees were passing by in a blur, that he was kicking up dirt and leaves as he ran. The noise of his own footfalls were drowned out by the snarls in his head and Harry let sound bubble up from the depths of his throat to sound out loud into the forest as a roaring cry.

Birds scattered and the sound of their wings thundered in his ears.

Harry burst through low foliage into a clearing just in time to be blinded by the wild flash of lightning as it streaked through the trees. He cried out sharply, falling to the ground as he clapped a hand to his eyes.

The inability to see slowed him, made him pause crouched in the fallen leaves of the forest floor, his ears his only point of reference. The roaring of the waters in his head made it difficult. Harry tried to silence them, tried to hear because he could only see spots of white and black across his vision.

"– ake him!"

"He's too fast!"

Harry snarled quietly, frustrated, nearly desperate. Where was Naruto?

"– my son!"

Minato. Harry knew that voice, even when it sounded cold in anger. Minato was there.

The clanging sound of metal on metal rang through the trees.

"You said he didn't have it anymore!" a voice called out – the kidnapper. Harry growled low in his throat at the sound.

"Focus! Who cares if he still – ergk –" That was the sound of pain, and it was followed by a wet cough.

"Hakkei!"

"Pay – attention –" Harry could hear the deep gurgling that signaled a punctured lung, or blood in the esophagus. It made a deeply satisfied feeling bubble up in his gut.

"You've been weakened, Hokage," another voice called into the clearing. How many were there? "You're not worthy."

Footsteps sounded behind him and Harry whipped his head around, little good it did him. He still couldn't see more than shadows and spots.

"Hisui!" It was Duck's voice, and suddenly the masked teen was next to him, and Harry felt his hand touch his shoulder softly, gingerly.

"Naruto?" Harry asked, urgently.

There was a pause and Harry pushed his body to his knees, wavering, blinking rapidly in hopes to restore his sight. He was starting to see color, but it was all patches of green or brown. He could see the vague shape of fallen leaves, his hand – was that mud splattered across his skin?

"Hokage has him," Duck said.

Harry wished that his guard's words soothed him, but they didn't. He could still hear Naruto's faint cries through the waters in his mind, as if the waves and splashes were echoing them back to him from far away. His body seemed unresponsive, as if cocooned, unable to move.

Bright light flashed across the corners of his eyes again, making him whip his head around and squeeze his eyes shut. Thunder crashed loud and sudden into the trees, making his ears ring in protest.

The ringing echoed across the space of his mind, and the flooded waters began to still. Harry stood in their depths, watching the waves ripple against his shins, slowing. When did the well flow over?

Distant light flashed across the clouds over his head, as if a shadow of lighting, and the thunder sounded again, distant.

Harry looked out over the shallow waters that stretched across the landscape, lapping against the empty foundation of the house and splashing into the walls of the well. They were no longer agitated, but rippling like a pond under an autumn wind.

"Hisui –"

Harry knew the voice, looked up at the sky and the distant cloud of thunder that rumbled there.

"Minato?" he wasn't sure if he said it aloud or only in his mind.

"Hisui," Minato repeated. "You can hold him, I know you can."

Harry didn't know what he was talking about at first, but the knowledge came to him slowly, trickling into his thoughts like a leaky roof. The Nine-tails. He was holding the Nine-tailed demon fox. The waters was the Nine-tails. And they had flooded him.

Harry frowned at the watery landscape and the well that stood over it. He moved through the water, slogging through the muddy bottom and forcing his feet forward through the current. It flowed faster the closer he got to the well, as if it was a river flowing outward in slithering streams, wrapping around his legs and tugging at his knees.

"Let me pass," he ground out, digging his feet into the ground to push forward. He reached out and gripped the edge of the well, the stones hot and wet under his palm. Harry pulled himself to the rim.

He looked into its depths.

The well's waters were surging up against his chains as if about to burst out, but only trickling rivers were able to escape the spaces between the links. Those little snakes of hot water were streaming their way over the edge of the well and into the muddy landscape of his mind, filling it like an overflowing river in flood season, crawling up his body like twining ivy.

"Go down," Harry commanded, frowning into the depths.

A hiss echoed up out of the well and Harry thought he saw glowing orange eyes glare out at him. "Be still," Harry said. "Go down."

The chains were easy to reapply, crisscrossing them over the well's opening in intricate layered knots. They stopped the leaks, holding the fox's power in its hole. The waters lowered and then surged back up at him in a hissing mass of watery serpents, roaring out at him in fury and anger.

"Be silent," Harry hissed in return.

The fox did not try to rush him again, but every once in a while a slender tendril of water would slither up the side of the well to push at the chains. Harry watched it for a moment, making sure there were no holes. The watery red serpents that had twined around his body were gone, melted back into the flood waters.

He turned from the well and inspected the flooded landscape of his mind. The waters were still, if lapping against his ankles and the side of the well. He had no idea how to return them to the well.

"Hisui," Minato's voice echoed from the clouds. "Well done."

Harry blinked at the words, suddenly feeling very tired. He closed his eyes and slipped to his knees in the muddy waters. The feel of a hand on his shoulder made him open them again. He blinked at the dim light and the dark spots that danced in the corners of his vision.

Before him crouched Minato, his hair bright even in the evening gloom. The blonde was watching him with some intent, his good arm reaching out to him, clasping his shoulder firmly.

"Minato," Harry greeted.

The man's smile was bright. "Well done, Hisui."

Harry frowned, a little unsure of what he had done. "Naruto?"

"He is safe," Minato said, "I promise."

Harry's frown deepened though, when the man's assurances did nothing to allay his worry.

"Let me take you to him," Minato said.

Harry nodded and made to move only to discover that he could not. He looked down at his body, hoping to force it, but found an encasing of – was that wood?

"Ah, Duck, if you please?" Minato said, gesturing to Harry's bound body.

"Yes, Hokage," Duck said from behind Harry. The masked man's voice held a hint of embarrassment in it. The wood melted away, slithering off him as if alive, dissolving back into the ground at his feet. Harry watched it in fascination.

"Come on, Hisui," Minato prompted, pulling him into his side. "I'll take you to Naruto."

Harry just nodded and let the man's arm wrap around his shoulders. Just before Minato's flash of lightning, Harry spotted the downed and bloody figure of the masked kidnapper.

He was not breathing.

o-

Naruto had been ensconced in the little L-shaped room of the Hokage Residence, watched over by the white-masked Duck. Harry scaled the ladder as soon as Minato let him go, curling around the little body and relishing in the feel of the familiar heat. He stared at the whiskered face, running his knuckles across the baby's cheek. Naruto's eyes peeked open, revealing sleepy, bright blue before closing again. His little body curled into Harry's own.

Harry let out a long sigh that seemed to take all his tense worry with it.

"Rest, Hisui," Minato said, peering over the raised edge where Harry was curled on the futon.

Harry just nodded, tired and relieved and wanting only to sleep with his arms around his little brother so he could make sure no one ever tried to take him again.

"They did not hurt him," Minato soothed. "They were not after him to hurt him. They only wanted me."

Harry peered blearily at the man, hearing the sadness and the anger that laced his words. Minato was watching Naruto sleep, his hand curled gently around the baby's head, fingers carded through the thin, fine blonde hair.

"They wanted me," Minato repeated, "Because they thought I was weakened."

"Hokage?" Duck said, sliding into the room and closing the door behind him.

"They wore Iwa headbands," Minato said, his voice laced with something dark. "But they were no Iwa ninja."

"Yessir," Duck said.

"Don't let them out of your sight," Minato said sharply.

An echoing "yessir" filled the room and Harry frowned at the sound.

Harry glanced at the man in the doorway and back to Minato, then paused and looked to his side, to the white-masked figure that slouched against the wall at his feet. Duck.

"Two?" Harry asked, looking between the two ANBU with identical masks, one lightly scratched as if by a clawed hand.

"Both are Duck," Minato said, glancing between them as well. He turned back to Harry with a little conspiratorial smirk. "It's a secret, Hisui," he said, putting a finger to his lips. "Two Ducks to watch over my two sons."

Harry just blinked back at the blonde, too tired to really respond except to marvel at being claimed as son by the man. He wasn't sure he'd ever get over that.

Minato seemed to understand his fatigue for he reached out to run his fingers through Harry's mop of hair, pushing him back down into the blankets of his futon.

"Sleep, Hisui."

Harry snuggled around the baby in his arms and groggily asked one last question, "Rin?"

One of the Duck's answered, "she's fine."

Harry closed his eyes and he slept, soothed by the heat of Naruto's little body.

o-

Harry was very reluctant to let Naruto out of his sight for some time after his kidnapping. Minato indulged his protective streak for a few days before he forced the two to part ways. Harry had to attend classes in order to graduate and Naruto was not welcome in the walls of the Academy just yet. It was no place for an infant, after all.

"Duck will be near him, always," Minato assured, as he pushed Harry into the Academy's yard.

"But – "

"And Mikoto is perfectly capable of defending Naruto along with her own son."

"Yes but I – "

"And the Uchiha District is nigh impossible to infiltrate without the Clan knowing of it," Minato continued through Harry's weak protests.

Harry couldn't really deny what the blonde said. He knew Mikoto was strong, and that Duck would not let Naruto out of his sight, and that the ever-watchful eyes of the Uchiha would know if their neighborhood was breached by an outsider, but Harry didn't want to let his little brother out of his sight. Harry wanted to take little Naruto and burrow into a cave and keep him safe forever.

"Go to class, Hisui," Minato said, his voice lowering into sternness and his hand pushing Harry further into the yard.

Harry nodded, though didn't move at first, watching as Naruto tugged at his father's long bangs, fitting the bright strands into his mouth and drooling down both his fist and the man's vest with happy abandon.

"Go on, Hisui," Minato said again, his eyes soft even as his voice remained stern. "Learn, grow, become even stronger."

Harry nodded again and finally turned towards the Academy yard and the classroom waiting for him. He may not be able to mold chakra with any consistency or skill, but he was determined. He would pass his tests and graduate and he would become Shinobi and he would protect Naruto.

Harry jogged across the yard, glancing once over his shoulder to the two blondes in the gateway before slipping inside through the classroom window. It took far too long to go around through the doors.

o-

The Academy was both easier and harder for Harry. While his grasp of the written language had solidified into something vaguely useful, he still struggled with chakra application, and Chouga was well aware of his troubles; as was all of the class. His attempts at any form of chakra technique usually resulted in failure due to either inability to channel chakra at all, or way too much of it.

One such disastrous attempt occurred on a chilly November morning with his entire class out on the Academy yard. Harry had lingered amongst Kabe and Itachi, ignoring Lin's glowering at the younger boy for some perceived slight against her as Chouga reviewed a basic body replacement technique.

"It is a simple technique," he said, "but also very useful. You have all had time to study the theory, and today we will be putting the Kawarimi into practice. Hana, will you please start us off?"

The girl went forward from the mob of students, three grey puppies ambling happily at her heels.

Chouga motioned to a log that lay a few meters from where the girl stood. "Please replace yourself with the log, Hana-chan."

The girl nodded and stared the log of wood down. Her hands carefully went through the seals needed for the technique, Tiger - Boar - Ox - Dog - Snake, and with her intonation, "Kawarimi no jutsu," twin puffs of cloud and smoke appeared where the log lay and she stood. As the smoke dissipated and cleared, the class could see her success -

"Ah, you left your partners behind, Hana-chan," Chouga said, motioning to the trio of puppies that surrounded the log where she had stood but a minute ago. One was sniffing at it, while one of its brothers barked across the distance between them and the girl.

"Oh," Hana said and whistled her pups to her. They sprinted across the distance in a mass of puppy-limbs.

"Try once more," Chouga told her.

Her second attempt surpassed her first, and she rejoined the class with a satisfied smile on her face.

"Hisui," Chouga called and Harry took his place across from the log.

"Kawarimi no jutsu," Chouga told him, motioning to the hunk of wood.

Harry eyed it warily, but flashed through the hand seals and called out for the technique to work - he felt it - his chakra rising to his call, the chains rattled, the waters in his mind swirled and followed the path of his chakra and suddenly surged through him in a boiling rush like a firehose suddenly turned on.

Smoke billowed wildly around him and Harry stilled, unable to see through the fog.

It was as it cleared that they all discovered the results of his attempt. He had succeeded, sort of. The log now stood where he had when he began, and he in its place - along with his entire class.

"Ah," Chouga said, eyeing Harry. "That was a little strong, Hisui-kun."

Harry hunched his shoulders and eyed his classmate's varied reactions of surprise and hilarity.

"Try again, please."

Harry did. Twice more, once not succeeding at all except to create a miniature puff of smoke in front of his nose that gave him a fit of sneezing. But on his third attempt he managed to replace just himself - but his distraction of wrestling with the waters in his mind caused him to replace himself with one of the large trees instead of the log. The uprooted tree swayed dangerously on its torn root system and toppled with a groaning crash, scattering his classmates and sending dust and leaves up into the air. Harry just stood and glared at the downed tree while in his mind he chucked a rock down the well at the hissing fox.

"Well," Chouga began, dusting off his shoulders. "Perhaps you should work on some chakra control exercises for the rest of the lesson, Hisui-kun."

Harry didn't say anything. He just plucked one of the falling leaves from out of the air in front of him and stalked over to sit against the Academy wall. He sullenly held the leaf against his forehead with one finger and forced his chakra to behave.

Harry remained there for the rest of the morning, holding the leaf to his forehead with chakra alone, glaring past the edges of the leaf at his classmates as they practiced the body replacement technique on the other side of Harry's tree.

o-

Harry wasn't sure what to make of the two Ducks. He could not ever tell a difference between them, except that one was easier for him to spot – he made more noise and didn't bother to hide himself much, though kept his distance – and the other was very silent in his comings and goings but was more willing to talk to him. If Harry was with Naruto than only one Duck was nearby, and Harry assumed that when the two boys were separate a Duck was with either.

Distinguishing the two turned into something of a frustrating game for Harry. They were visually identical – both skinny teens with short dark hair – and spoke similarly, if at all. One had a faintly scratched mask while the other did not. The most frustrating was that the only time he had ever seen them together was in his room in the tower and he had been far too fatigued to take note of any differences.

Which was what brought he, Anko and Lin to the top of the water tower just outside the Uchiha district.

Harry had not told the girls exactly what he was doing. Minato had said that the two Ducks were a secret, so Harry had drawn Lin with him by another method – the simple and very effective excuse of skiving classes to eat sweets and gossip. He would have brought the boys, but they had already incited Chouga's ire and were being carefully watched throughout the morning's lessons.

Anko was just a bonus. He and Lin had literally run into the older girl on their way through the village away from the Academy Yard.

"So a couple of crazies kidnapped Naruto to lure Hokage into the forest so they could fight him to prove that he was weak?"

Although, Anko was far more interested in the night that Harry learned of the two Ducks.

"Yes," Harry replied shortly. "They wanted to kill him."

He was still annoyed at the kidnappers' success in taking Naruto from him.

"They wanted to kill the kid!?"

Harry shot the older girl a sharp look. "Minato."

"And they didn't have an army?" Anko asked, shoving the first of her supply of dango into her mouth.

"There were four of them," Harry said, still short. He didn't remember seeing all four, he actually could only recall seeing two of the team. He had had to ask Minato what had happened. He was quite sure that the blonde had only told him a little bit of it all – he was sure, actually, that Minato wasn't telling him something. He just didn't know what.

Anko was silent for a long moment, and then, "and they lured Hokage out into the forest to fight him?"

"Yes."

"He has had his arm in a sling for months," Lin said.

Anko didn't seem to think that this mattered one wit. "He's Hokage."

"A Hokage with one good arm," Lin countered.

"He's the Fourth," Anko repeated.

Lin made a frustrated sound that was almost a growl, which only prompted Anko to cackle out a gleeful bark of laughter. Harry glanced between the two girls flanking him, wondering if he should be worried that they might brawl and push him off the edge of the water tower. Lin looked about ready to pounce, but Anko merely grinned widely around her dango stick, settled back on her heals.

"He took out an army all on his own in the war," Anko continued gleefully. "And they sent how many?"

Lin scowled at her.

Satisfied that he wasn't about to plummet three stories to the street, Harry returned to his vigil.

He had Duck Number Two tailing him today, the Duck that made more noise and didn't hide as well, but never talked to Harry - the one without the scratches on his mask. He was perched on a roof somewhere off to the kids' left, tucked into shadows of ventings. Duck Number One - the one with the scratches and who liked to read and had more experience with Harry's range of hearing - Harry presumed, was near Naruto, who was still at Mikoto's for the day.

They would likely have to enter the Uchiha district to spot him, and Harry really wanted to get the two Ducks closer together so he could compare any physical differences. Unfortunately, the Uchiha district was not conducive to sneaking around.

Harry hadn't yet figured out the next step to his plans, which was why he was perched atop the water tower like some gargoyle, twirling a senbon between his fingers and glowering down at the gate that marked the Uchiha district's main entrance.

o-

Harry's planning and the girls' gossiping was interrupted by Kakashi who was ambling down the street that passed by the Uchiha's gate. Harry spotted him quite easily and before the girls, who weren't really paying any attention to the people on the streets as much as their current point of interest. Kakashi's mass of white hair made him easy to spot, and Harry watched the older boy idly as his mind toyed with various ideas of how to sneak into a district full of police officers that commanded eyes reported to not miss any detail.

It was as Kakashi passed by the tall, blue-painted gate to the district that it happened.

Three young Uchiha teens had been loitering beneath the gate, perhaps guards or just a few Chunin with a day off. Harry hadn't thought much of them, but as Kakashi went by them, the three perked up and called out to the other teen. Their faces were twisted into revulsion and contempt, and while Harry could not hear their words, their tones were taunting and degrading towards Kakashi.

If Kakashi responded, Harry could not hear nor see, but as soon as one of the Uchiha drew a kunai from his hip pouch Harry was moving.

He heard the girls behind him call after him in surprise, but he didn't even pause. Harry jumped from the water tower to the nearby roof and skidded down the side of the two-story building, tumbling into the road curled into a summersault. He was up and dashing across the street before he even came to a stop and as the Uchiha raised the kunai across his chest in preparation to throw, Harry sent the senbon in his fingers whistling through the air.

It struck the kunai with a bright clang and all four of the teens turned to stare at him as Harry skidded to a stop in front of Kakashi's shoulder. His defensive stance was very obvious to them all and Harry had little doubt that they could not see the anger on his face.

How dare they!

"Hisui -" Kakashi said, surprised.

"What is this?" one of the Uchiha boys asked, looking down at Harry with a sneer.

"Hisui," Kakashi repeated, "shouldn't you be in Academy?"

"Why are you attacking him?" Harry demanded.

The Uchiha with the kunai tossed his head arrogantly. "We did no such thing, brat."

"We were just talking," another said.

"Letting this one -" the first gestured to Kakashi, "know that we expect the return of our clan's property from a thief."

"So keep your nose out of it, brat," the second said.

"Hisui," Kakashi said, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. The older boy exerted some pressure, pulling Harry back and out of his defensive stand against the Uchiha teens. Harry stumbled into Kakashi's solid weight, but he didn't take his eyes off the three Uchiha.

"He's no thief," Harry nearly spit at the the three. They did not look to believe him, and only sneered at him more.

"Come on, Hisui," Kakashi urged, "I'll take you back to the Academy."

Harry let Kakashi pull him away from the Uchiha district, but it wasn't until they turned a corner that he stopped glowering at the three teens. It was only then that he realized that the girls and Duck Number Two had joined them.

"What was that about?" Lin asked Harry, her hands on her hips and Duck hovering just behind her.

Harry ignored her and looked over Kakashi, as if assuring himself that the teen was still in one piece. He paused his inspection when he caught the look in the older boy's one eye. Kakashi was looking at him with an irritated sort of fondness.

"You don't have to protect me, Hari," Kakashi said quietly, but without any true reprimand.

Harry shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed at his reaction to the threat against Kakashi. He knew that the other could well take care of himself. Kakashi was a Jonin, after all, and could handle a trio of upstart Uchiha teens.

"Nice throw though, kid," Anko said with a gleeful grin and clapped Harry harshly on the shoulder. "I think you actually managed to surprise the Uchiha brat. You might make a halfway decent shinobi after all."

Harry rolled his shoulder to dislodge her hand and frowned at her. "I will be shinobi, and I will protect my precious people!"

Anko blinked at his vehement reply, but then grinned widely. "I know you will, kid."

"Why do they think you are a thief?" Harry asked Kakashi.

Kakashi merely tapped his face once, just to the side of his covered Sharingan eye.

"But - "

"Obito gave it willingly," Kakashi said softly. "But they do not care if he did or not. They don't think I should be allowed to keep it. I am not Uchiha."

Harry frowned, which prompted Kakashi to reach out and ruffle his mop of hair. "Don't worry about it, Hari," he said, his uncovered eye revealing his smile. "We know the truth."

"Still," Harry started, his frown still there.

Kakashi just made a sound that came out as a sort of muffled hum and slouched away, his one visible eye creased into a smile.

Harry stared balefully after him.

"Well that was exciting!" Anko said happily.

o-

Minato confronted Harry about him leaving the Academy in the middle of lessons one day when Harry and Naruto were lounging the blonde's office atop the tower. Minato was working through the pile of paperwork on his desk, and while waiting for him to finish so they could go to dinner, Harry had pulled out his sealing kit and a box of crayons. Naruto happily scribbled across an endless stack of papers with a brilliant orange while Harry carefully drew up a stack of basic seal tags.

"Why are you skipping your lessons at the Academy, Hisui?" Minato asked him.

Harry froze in his motions of drawing a shock tag, the ink from his brush pooling at its tip as he held it over the linen tag. In the silence, Naruto's happy gabbing sounded loud.

"Chouga-sensei tells me you have missed three of his lessons in the past two weeks," the blonde continued.

The ink from Harry's brush dropped, marring the seal and Harry finally laid the brush down atop the tag, letting the linen soak up the excess ink in the bristles. The tag was already ruined.

"Hisui?"

Harry, tense, rocked back on his heels and finally chanced meeting the man's eyes. Minato was watching him with a rather blank face, emotions making his eyes darken from their usual brilliance into deep blue pools. He did not appear angry or even disappointed - just concerned. Harry relaxed marginally and let out the lungful of air he had been holding.

"Are you ok, Hisui?" Minato asked, rising from his desk to come closer. Harry watched him and felt accomplished when did not tense again or flinch when the man laid a hand on his shoulder. Harry had not felt such trepidation from a guardian in years and it had surprised him - the shiver of fear that had come out of the deep recesses of memory.

Harry let out another rough breath and gave the man a thin smile.

"I am not angry, Hisui-kun," Minato said softly, his face confirming his words. "Why are you not attending your classes at the Academy?"

Harry shrugged weakly, but answered, "I can't do the ninjutsu, anyways."

"Are they difficult?"

"Not really."

Minato's voice never lost it patience. "Then why can't you do them?"

"I use either too much or too little chakra every time," Harry confessed. Chouga probably told the man already anyways. "I can't do them."

Minato was silent for a long minute and the time allowed Harry to recognize his own feelings: shame and embarrassment. He could hear Kushina's voice in his head, offering encouragements, telling him he'd be able to do it, no matter how long it took and it didn't matter at all if it took until he was fifty, she loved him no matter what. She had failed Konoha's graduation tests, too after all, and she was still amazing.

"You'll do it, Hisui," Minato said and it took Harry a minute to realize that it was Minato speaking and not the memory of Kushina in his head. He blinked up at the man and caught an encouraging smile from him.

"You just have to keep practicing," Minato continued. "And one day you'll be amazing. You can do anything you put your mind to, I know it. Just like Kushina."

Harry hung his head, memories of Kushina playing strongly in his mind, intermingled with his memories of Minato who was as dear to him as she had been. He mumbled a quiet, overwhelmed "thank you," for the man's confidence in him.

Minato must of heard him anyways, for he ruffled a heavy hand through Harry's wild white hair, the gesture familiar and comforting and making Harry peer up at him with a smile.

Naruto suddenly threw his hands up into the air, sending a fistful of crayons scattering around him. "Haa!" the boy exclaimed, grinning and cheerful.

Minato laughed and scooped the toddler up, tossing him over his head and making the boy squeal in delight. Harry watched father and son with a grin, feeling very much a part of the family.

o-

Despite Minato's confidence that Harry would work out his issues with his chakra, Harry continued to struggle throughout the entire following academy session, from January straight through March and the two week spring break before the next session did little to increase his control.

Harry did, however, stop skivving off on his lessons though and so had to largely but his investigation into the Ducks on hold.

Harry enjoyed the two week vacation from classes, glad to be done with the pressures of learning and away from his peers, who found his lack of control an endless source of amusement, and his connection to the Hokage an endless source of gossip.

Harry spent much of those two weeks at Kushina's house with Rin and Kakashi, and with Naruto instead of leaving the toddler with Mikoto during the day. In exchange for the woman's babysitting the little blonde so often over the past year, Harry would take Sasuke along with him as well, which drew Itachi more than not. The group filled the row house with bodies again, something that brought Harry a certain joy. It seemed to be good for Rin and Kakashi too, as they both took days off from their duties to share the vacation with the boys and by the second week, Minato was showing up from his work as Hokage earlier every day.

It was one of these afternoons at the house, with Itachi laying on the living room floor beneath two giggling toddlers, that Harry expressed his frustrations with his inability to adequately complete the general ninjutsu skills his classmates were largely accomplishing, and Minato suggested a solution.

"Perhaps sealing would help," the blonde said, not really looking at Harry but at the children on the floor with Itachi. He seemed to have been thinking aloud.

"How so, sensei?" Rin asked from her place next to Harry at the table. Minato blinked and turned to look at them over the tabletop. He looked at Rin a moment before shifting his attention to Harry.

"Kushina mentioned something about her clan using basic techniques through fuinjutsu rather than activating them via handseals." Minato smiled fondly, sadly. "She thought Uzushio's way was better than Konoha's. She struggled with our Academy's basic techniques, too."

"Uzushio," Rin said softly, "That's the village of the land of whirlpools, right? It was destroyed."

"Years ago, yes," Minato said. "Kushina hailed from Uzushio."

"Oh!"

Minato gave her a comforting look, then to Harry, "I bet she has some of her training scrolls here."

Harry perked up at that, having seen Kushina rifle through some of them, or read them on occasion, but he had never thought there'd be something in them for him.

"Come on," Minato said, rising and offering Harry a hand. "Let's go take a look."

"Don't take too long!" Rin called as they ascended the stairs, "We're having dinner in an hour!"

"Yes, yes," Minato said, dragging Harry up the second floor and the large master bedroom that Kushina had always slept in. They passed through a sitting room that housed a number of shelves and scrolls of its own along with a pair of deep, comfortable couches before entering the bedroom. Harry lingered just inside the doorway as Minato crossed to the wall of shelves along one side of the room. He hadn't been in the room since Kushina had died. Minato still slept there, on rare occasions, but they usually slept in the tower now and were rarely in the row house anymore, unless visiting Kakashi and Rin. The room hadn't changed much at all. It was still packed full of the odd things that Kushina had collected, sea shells and coral sculptures, scrolls that hung from the walls depicting artful drawings of a coastal sea, braided strands of red threads, and a wall full of shelves that had collected books and scrolls and knickknacks of all sorts.

It smelled like her.

"Ah, here!" Minato exclaimed, pulling a scroll from a pile of its fellows. Minato tossed it to Harry, who inspected the small thing curiously. It was not overly large, no longer than his forearm and not terribly long, either, though it was certainly not a short scroll. It was a little worn, its edges scraped and dog-eared and dusty. It had been well-used, but it had been some time since its last use.

Harry rolled it open between his hands and inspected the neat kanji that stretched across the surface. He had, at least, caught up with his peers in his ability to read in Japanese, no matter his struggles with his chakra. The scroll was not complicated. It read much like a recipe book, sectioned off by technique and listing their requirements and final outcomes. There was little in the way of hows or whys included, and Harry did not fully understand the recipes.

True to Minato's sharp memory, the very first seal in the scroll was a variation of the clone technique. "Fuin Bunshin," Harry read aloud.

"Keep trying with the Academy version of theses techniques, Hisui," Minato said. "You should learn them and know them. They are very useful. But Kushina would want you to have these, I am sure of it." Minato smiled sadly and laughed softly. "She would have given them to you even if I had told her that you should learn things our way too. I am sure she would have said that her way was better anyways."

"I miss her," Harry said, eyeing the neat writing on the scroll in his hand. He wondered if it had been Kushina's hand, but it didn't have the same character and flourishes that her handwriting did.

Minato kneeled down in front of him and gripped Harry's shoulder with his good hand. His face told Harry that Minato, too, missed Kushina, terribly, and that he understood. The blonde didn't even have to voice it.

"She loved you," Minato said. "You were hers in her heart, as much as Naruto is. These scrolls are yours, Hisui. They are your heritage. Most are from her home village and her clan, to which you are a member."

Harry nodded, his eyes tracking along the wall of shelves that was overflowing with books and scrolls.

o-

The spring session of the Academy began at the beginning of April and it heralded a rise in the pressure to perform and succeed.

"You have all been assigned to this class because you have been marked for possible graduation at the end of this course," Chouga began.

Harry stared at the man, then glanced around the classroom. He was relatively familiar with most of the faces within, having been in and out of lectures and yard practices with them for the past three years. He knew some better than others, having jumped around in his lecture courses as much as he had done due to various convalescences, but not a single one was a complete a stranger to him. Given a bit of time and a good memory day, Harry could even name them all.

Amongst the group were those whom Harry knew best, Kabe, Idate, Lin and Itachi. There was the girl with the puppies just two rows ahead - Hana - and the brown-haired twins in the front row who routinely failed to perform their yard exercises with any skill, and the girl from the bug clan, whom Lin alternately got on with or hated depending on the day and the Hyuga boy with the bandana around his head - the entire class of kids stared back at Chouga with a variety of expressions from excitement, trepidation to out-right fear.

Harry was feeling rather close to the fear side of the scale, and he thought of the scroll of general techniques from Kushina's - and his! - clan that he hoped against hope would allow him to pass the Academy graduation exams he'd be facing in three months.

He did not want to fail them.

o-

Harry's last session in the Academy passed in a blur of training, lessons and hair-pulling evenings bent over Kushina's training scroll in a corner of Minato's office or the kitchen table at the row house with sealing supplies scattered across its surface while he attempted to master the technique.

It was tricky, if just because the theory differed so much from what he had been taught at the Academy. Konoha relied on a series of handseals to trigger and mold the use of chakra into the desired results. The handseals were for triggering the correct, muscle-memory responses in concentration and chakra molding and putting them out of order or skipping them, while possible in one with a very strong will, usually resulted in failed techniques. Uzushio contained all of that into a seal and a seal without the use of the linen tags that Harry was familiar with using.

The Academy had given Harry three years of training and lessons in the use of handseals, and while Harry was familiar with fuinjutsu, and even Uzushio's fuinjutsu to a point, he had to learn an entirely new branch of theory before he could accurately perform the seal clone without the crutch of a tag - which Kushina's scrolls stated was the desired result.

His need for more information had driven him back into Kushina's bedroom and the wall of scrolls and books. He had found the theory he was looking for, but he also stumbled across a scroll that told of the fall of Uzushio. Written as if it were a collection of stories taken from a bunch of people and narrated by one author, it told a varying and knotted tale of betrayal, rebellion and slaughter amidst the destruction of fire and tsunami - a force of nature loosed upon the remnants of a village feared for their skills in fuinjutsu.

Harry was pulling at his long hair, bent over the scroll, when Minato interrupted him.

Harry did not even look up from the scrolls that lay scattered around his knees on the floor of Kushina's bedroom. He was eyeing them rather blindly, his mind turning over the contents of them in a shadowy turmoil of information and story and accounting.

"Hisui," Minato said and Harry peered at the man through the curtain of his hair, idly thinking that it was getting awfully long. It nearly reached down past his shoulders when he stood upright. With his head bent over as it was, his hair curtained his entire face.

"Hisui," Minato said again, and suddenly Naruto was placed atop the mess of scrolls, right in front of Harry's crossed legs. The little blonde leaned forward and looked up at Harry from beneath his curtain of hair, his big blue eyes wide and curious, as if looking behind a sheet to see who was there. Naruto recognized him suddenly and grinned widely, reached out with his little fists and gave Harry's long hair a good yank.

"Ow!" Harry called grabbing the toddler off the floor and pulling him into his lap.

Naruto just laughed at him, his hands knotted into Harry's hair as if they were glued there, waving his arms around and yanking the locks every once in a while. Harry hugged the boy to him and dug his chin into the boy's neck and blew out through his mouth. Naruto squealed, squirming and giggling and finally let go of Harry's hair in order to grab at his face.

"Naruto!" Harry called, but couldn't be angry with the boy when he was giggling and wiggling and warm in his arms.

Harry tracked his fingertips down the boy's ribs and sent the toddler into another fit of cackling giggles. Naruto curled up tightly into his lap, trying to fend of Harry's tickling fingers with knees and elbows.

Suddenly Harry felt a set of fingers against his own ribs and he whipped his head around to see Minato crouched over him, grinning widely and soon Harry was curled around Naruto, giggling just the same.

The three ended in a heap on the bedroom floor, scrolls scattered and faces still grinning. Naruto was sprawled across Harry's chest, his hand fisted in his father's coat, and Harry was using Minato's stomach as a rather effective pillow.

The sound of paper being shifted echoed in the now quiet room as Minato picked up one of the scrolls Harry had been reading. There was a few moments of silence before the man gave a sad sigh and dropped the scroll in order to push his hand into Harry's hair.

"You chose some heavy topics to read, Hisui-kun," he said.

Harry remained silent, reflective and it was a long few minutes before Minato spoke again.

"Uzushio were our allies," the hokage said. "I remember the day Kushina came to Konoha. She was a part of a group of refugees fleeing a civil war. My teammate had dropped a dango stick in my hair that afternoon and I was picking it out as we watched the refugees arrive. Kushina came alone, with no family. I remember her hair - it stood out so bright!"

Harry smiled, despite himself. He had loved Kushina's beautiful hair, too. Minato let out a breath that Harry felt more than he heard.

"She is - was not the last Uzumaki," Minato said, seeming to skip a great deal of story between Kushina's arrival in Konoha and her death there years later. "But there are few of the clan left and they are very scattered now."

"It wasn't a civil war," Harry corrected quietly, thinking of the scroll's dark contents.

"No, but that is what everyone was told."

They were both silent again and Harry realized that Naruto had fallen asleep and was drooling onto his jacket. The toddler was still sprawled bonelessly across Harry's body and the boy's warmth was a remarkably soothing thing to him. Kushina had had the same sort of heat.

"This collection is a part of her family's library," Minato said and Harry saw his arm wave over them at the wall of shelves. "It is what is left of it, most of it anyways. It contains all that she could find and collect about her clan's techniques and history. It is their legacy, in written form."

The two lay on the floor in companionable silence until Harry began yawning. Minato tucked Harry and Naruto into the big bed that once slept Kushina and without a word, crawled in beside them, wrapping a long arm across both the boys. Harry snuggled his nose into Naruto's hair, and watched Minato's face until he fell asleep, his mind turning over abstract thoughts of Uzumaki seals and a village sinking beneath fire and waves as it fought destruction.

o-

It was the summer before Harry's tenth birthday that he graduated the Academy and became a Genin. He alternately struggled and succeeded in the exams. His written tests on theory and tactics and the like gave him some challenges but he soldiered through them. The tests in the yard afterward demanded he demonstrate his ability to throw kunai and hit targets and he did really well, hitting all bull's eyes - the only one in his class to do so besides Itachi - and he demonstrated his katas without any mistakes. It was the early afternoon where they would be called up to show that they could perform ninjutsu that had him nervous, even after all the written and accuracy tests.

He sat through almost his entire class being called into the room behind Chouga's desk before it was his turn.

"Uzumaki Hisui," Chouga said, motioning him to come down to the front as Itachi came out the door. Harry passed the younger boy silently, and noted the encouraging nod Itachi gave as he passed by.

Harry slunk into the back room.

He was faced with a long table pushed up against the opposite wall, behind which sat three figures, none of whom Harry knew, two men and an elderly woman. They took a long minute to notice his presence, but then the middle one waved at him.

"Show us the clone technique, then," the examiner said, barely looking up from the stack of papers in front of him. "And state your name, please."

"Uzumaki Hisui," Harry obeyed. "The clone technique?"

The man peered up at him over a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. "Yes."

Harry repeated the man's instructions in his head, and then nodded, satisfied. The three examiners all watched him as he pulled three slips of linen tags out of his hip pouch. He ignored one them beginning to speak and quickly slammed the three tags onto the ground at his feet, channeling a trickle of chakra - a trickle was easy - into the three to activate them before the examiners had a chance to recant any of their words.

The tags activated, spreading out lines of sealscript across the floor and with a swirl of air and smoke, revealed nine clones of himself, arrayed before him in a close-knit formation.

"Fuin Bunshin," Harry said softly, kneeling behind his squad of Harry-clones. "The clone technique, as asked."

"Bunshin, Uzumaki," one of the men said, irritated, "This is not - "

"We asked for a clone technique," the lady examiner interrupted. "We did not specify. He accomplished the task we set him and he did so with accuracy." She turned from her fellows to eye Harry with interest. "I hailed from Uzushio, boyo," she told him, garnering his surprise. "I have not seen our clone technique performed for many years. Well done, Uzumaki. Well done, indeed."

The disgruntled examiner grumbled but did not argue.

The lady from Uzushio wrote something down on the papers before here, folded them and put them in an envelope. She then held out the envelope to Harry, along with a shiny new hitai-ate, which he took with a respectful bow to her. His name was scrawled across the envelope's front.

"Congratulations, Uzumaki Hisui," she said, smiling at him. "I hope I see more of Uzushio's techniques from you in the future."

o-

Harry bounded out of the Academy with a wide grin on his face, the envelope of his results clutched tightly in his hand and the cloth band of his new hitai-ate streamed from his fist. He skidded in the yard, where most of his classmates still lingered with family who had met them as they exited after their final test. Harry was one of the last of his class to finish and he scanned the busy yard for familiar faces.

Itachi was standing rather formally before his father and Mikoto, who had Sasuke on her hip. Lin was gabbing irately at a tall man with broad shoulders and greying red hair - her father, Harry knew, though he'd never met the man properly. Hana was amongst a veritable pack of clansmen and dogs and - there!

Harry squeezed between a pair of tearful girls who had failed their yard exams and sprinted over to Minato who stood near the missions office with Naruto perched on his shoulders.

"Well?" Minato asked, smiling as if he already knew the answer. He could probably tell from the proud grin stretched across Harry's face.

"I passed!" Harry exclaimed, waving his results absently. "I used the seal clone and they passed me!"

"They didn't ask for the Bunshin, did they?" Minato asked knowingly. "You saw a way through their instructions! Well done!"

Harry opened his mouth to recount the events inside the examining room by each exact detail but then noticed that Naruto's fingers, which were dug deeply into Minato's blonde hair, were covered with some sort of pink substance.

"Is that - jelly?" Harry asked.

Minato's shoulders slumped a little and his eyes rolled skyward as if he could see his son's happy, sticky expression atop his head. Naruto had the sticky substance smeared across half of his face, his shirt and his own hair as well as Minato's

"That would be dango sauce," Minato said morosely.

"Oh."

Harry watched Naruto tangle his little fingers deeper into his father's hair, the boy's expression one of deep concentration as if it was imperative to the continuation of the world that Naruto ensured the sticky sauce covered every strand of blonde hair.

"It's everywhere, isn't?" Minato asked flatly, as if both afraid of and already knowing the answer.

Harry merely nodded, eyes riveted to the sticky toddler.

o-

Harry wasn't sure what he expected out of a Jonin instructor, but the man who collected them was not it.

o-

**Author's Commentary:** Oh, Naruto, sticky Naruto, you scene thief, you.

**DATA BOOK ENTRY:** for fun. Enjoy.

Name: Uzumaki Hisui, AKA: Hari, Tadpole

Rank/Ninja Registration #/Age: Genin/010410/9.5 years

Height/Weight: 122cm (4ft)/variable

Dream: To be strong and protect his precious people.

Quote: "Family protects each other!"

Ninja Skills: Ninjutsu: 1.5, Taijutsu: 2.5, Genjutsu: 1.5, Intelligence: 2, Strength: 1.5, Speed: 3, Stamina: 2.5, Handseals: 2, Total: 16.5

**From the Crystal Ball:** Weasleys!

The impromptu group then introduced him to yet another orange-topped sibling. Harry, his hair looking jet white in comparison to the brilliant oranges and coppers around him, was beginning to feel a little outnumbered.

The twins gave him a back and forth introduction of the newest sample of Weasley.

"This is our littlest –"

"Our ickilest –"

"Our brother Ron –"

"Ickle Ronnikins."

The ickle Ron took one startled look at him and blurted, "What are you, a Malfoy!?"

Harry didn't know what a Malfoy was, but he knew what an insult was and he wondered if he should bother to react to it yet or save it for later. He had been wanting to try out that stick-to-needle spell on someone's wand…

"Ron!" one of his brothers admonished, scandalized. It was the skinny, proper one. Ron only gave him a squint-faced, rebellious look.

"He does look like a Malfoy, with his hair," Bill mused, "But his face isn't nearly feminine enough."

"That's right," said one of the twins – George, he thought. "Malfoys are a might bit girly round the edges –"

Then the twins started answering each other's sentences again.

"Hisui now –"

"Hisui here is too square of jaw –"

"Much more masculine –"

"That's for sure –" the twins continued, not even missing a beat. Harry was finding their back and forth conversational habits to be rather amusing to watch, if difficult to follow at times.

"He does too look like a Malfoy," Ron insisted.

Charlie waved his hand in front of Harry's face as if pulling off a sheet from a statue. "Do try to look past his hair color, Ron," he said with a wide grin. "If you imagine him with different hair color he looks nothing like the Malfoys."

"His hair is white," Ron said, stubborn.

"What's a Malfoy?" Harry asked into the narrow space of conversation.

Ron and the proper-brother stared at him while Bill let out a loud guffaw, followed closely by the twins.

Harry's theory that all Englishmen were mad was quickly solidifying. Despite that, the collective Weasley's and their never ending stream of ribbing, jokes and laughter was rather infectious and they were quickly growing on him.


	8. The Beginning of Team Four

**Author's Notes & Responses: **Harry's databook ninja skills would put him at about average for a graduating Genin, sitting near 14-16 points total, which is also the average total for the Rookie Nine of Naruto's class (16). Check out for some comparisons.

Of some interest here, is that Harry and most of his classmates are a couple years younger than Naruto's generation upon graduation. This is due to the still recent Third Shinobi War and the war-time curriculum that the Academy is still under during Harry's time, which would rather fast-track them (I believe Lin made mention of this back in an earlier chapter). This curriculum will be switched to a peace-time one very soon, but it isn't important for Harry, so I doubt it will ever get mentioned in the story properly.

Meh, I'm not completely happy with this chapter. Ah well. I've stared at it for a month straight, time to move on for now. So: Duck! Duck! Goose!

o- **The Beginning of Team Four** -o

By: Renatus

Harry returned to the Academy the day following his tests and graduation along with the rest of his graduating class to receive their team assignments. Dressed in a pair of long dark shorts and the green kingfisher jacket given him by Minato's team, Harry affixed his shiny new hitai-ate over the scars on his forehead, pulled his hair into a messy ponytail at the back of his head and ran out of the tower with Minato's call of good-luck behind him, his geta clacking softly against the ground.

The classroom was rowdy, which was not terribly unusual for a bunch of shinobi kids - Primary school back in England and never been quite so loud and rambunctious - but it was especially loud as Harry slipped into the room. Freed from the demands of schooling and tests and lessons, Harry's classmates were thoroughly enjoying their newfound freedom. Harry dodged an elbow and ducked under a random kunai and slid along the wall of the classroom looking for a relatively safe place to sit that hadn't been claimed, guarded or booby-trapped. Finally spotting Kabe, Idate and Lin towards the back of the room, Harry made his way to them.

"Hey," he greeted, sidling up to Kabe's solid bulk. Behind the larger boy were a couple of boys arm-wrestling at their table, two others cheering them on.

Kabe's eyes flickered up at him, carted around his head at Harry's change in hair style, and then he grunted a greeting before returning his attention to whatever mischief Idate and Lin were cooking up. Harry peered around their shoulders to the shadowed space between them and found a little yellow and green frog curled in the bottom of a small basket in Lin's hands.

Harry's eyebrows rose up beneath his hitai-ate at the sight.

"What exactly is your plan?" Kabe asked the other two. The frog seemed relatively calm, though it kept turning around in tight circles, as if it were restless from the noise around it. Its skin was bright and glossy, as if coated with a fine sheen of wax or water which gave it a distinctly slimy look.

"It's for Chouga-sensei," Idate quipped, putting the lid back on the little basket before the frog got too agitated and struck out at them or escaped.

"She's a parting gift," Lin said with a somewhat manic grin.

"You know, to show our appreciation for Chouga-sensei teaching us the last few years," Idate said.

Harry eyed the three for a moment before looking down at the little basket in the girl's hands. "She?"

Lin nodded happily and skipped away from them, down the shallow steps of the classroom towards the teacher's desk at the front. She wove through the chaos of the classroom with remarkable ease, even managing to pull another girl's hair as she slid by and causing said girl to round on one of the boys behind her with a righteous right hook. The innocent, utterly unprepared boy collapsed across the desk with a very dazed expression.

Idate crowed in laughter behind Harry's shoulder and he could even hear Kabe chuckling.

Harry just shook his head and grinned.

The three boys watched over the heads of their oblivious classmates as Lin slid the basket onto the desktop, shifting a big red apple that was already sitting there so that the two were arranged neatly together. With everyone so distracted with their own things, no one seemed to even notice her.

"Is it poisonous?" a quiet voice asked next to Harry.

Harry stiffened at the unexpected voice and whipped his head around to find Itachi hovering at his elbow, his dark eyes intent on Lin as she sidled out from behind the desk.

"I'm not sure," Harry answered, nonplussed that the Uchiha already knew what was going on. "It looked harmless."

But looking harmless didn't say much for the frog's potential to be deadly and the vague look Itachi shot him said as much. Harry merely shrugged, turning his hands up at his sides in his own gesture. The younger boy seemed to sigh out silently, a sure sign of disappointed exasperation - likely at Harry's failure to gather adequate information - and turned away. Harry watched him glide down the row of desks to sit next to the window at the far end.

"How in the hell do you do that?" Idate asked.

Harry turned to the taller boy. "Huh? Do what?"

"Understand his not-speak?" Idate said, gesturing towards the young Uchiha sitting in the center of a circle of silence at the end of the desks. "I swear you just had a whole conversation with him and you didn't say a word!"

Harry blinked and shrugged, which caused Idate to throw his hands up in frustration. "See! How do you know Uchiha-ese? Your not a part of their stuck-up clan! See?"

Harry didn't see and as Idate continued to gesticulate wildly, he turned to Kabe with a look of question. The tall, bulky boy just shrugged himself and the two turned back to watching Idate throw his arms around and grumble about weird Uchiha prodigies.

Chouga arrived then, and he brought his large, meaty hands together with a resounding clap that somehow managed to cut through the ruckus and bring a semblance of control to the class of recent graduates. The classroom scrambled for seats and Harry ended up next to Itachi, with Kabe and Idate on his other side. Lin, who hadn't quite made it back through the rowdy throng, was a row ahead.

"Congratulations," Chouga began, starting a round of self-satisfied hoots and cheers from the new Genin. "Now please pay attention as I call out your team assignments."

o-

Harry wasn't sure what he expected out of a jonin instructor, but the man who collected them was not it.

Harry's team had been called in the middle of the pack. Chouga listed off the teams in order of team numbers, from one to nine, and Harry watched as Kabe was included on Team Two with an Aburame and the Hyuga boy with the bandana. Lin went to Team Three, and then Chouga called Harry and Itachi's names.

"You two are on Team Four," Chouga continued after calling their names, gesturing to where the two boys sat beside each other, "along with Inuzuka Hana."

Harry scanned the class and found the girl and her puppies right next to Lin a row ahead. The Inuzuka girl turned enough to give the two boys a nod and small enthusiastic wave before Chouga began speaking again, listing off teams five through nine.

"Congratulations!" Chouga said happily. "Please wait here as your jonin instructors come to collect you!"

Three teams had already been collected, and more filtered out as they waited, Chouga issuing more congratulations and farewells to his students - some of whom he'd been teaching for years - as they all filtered out of his classroom. He was also collecting little gifts some of them gave him, sweets and ornaments of thanks. Chouga let them all stack up on his desk, burying the little basket with Lin's frog in the process. Harry noticed Lin strung taught as a bow while also hanging her head in disappointment. She probably would not be able to see Chouga's response to finding a slimy frog amongst his pile of gifts, something that Harry knew the girl preferred - seeing her victims' reactions. She was further disappointed when her jonin-sensei arrived to collect her and her team and Chouga waved them out of the classroom with a wide happy grin.

Harry just shook his head and sent a mild look of suffering to Itachi, who completely ignored him save for a flick of his dark eyes that acknowledged Harry's presence.

Harry's new Team Four did not have long to wait before a tall man of some noble standing silently entered the room on the heels of Idate's Team Five. Harry was distracted by the tall boy's immediate insulting of his fellow, a boy with markings next to his eyes named Minoji who had been one of Idate's rivals in their long-distance yard runs. Minoji and the third boy on the team were both already rounding on Idate as they stampeded out of the door.

"Team Four!" Chouga called, and Harry's attention zero'd in on the tall jonin standing near their teacher.

Harry recognized his clan immediately, it was quite easy with the man's tell-tale pale eyes. He was otherwise somewhat nondescript and didn't look quite like what Harry thought of a jonin. He wore more traditional clothes in various shades of grays and browns that wrapped around his torso, tied by an obi and barely revealed a shirt of armor netting beneath his collar. His brown hair was long and pulled back lowly, revealing his hitai-ate around his forehead and making his very pale eyes stand out in his face.

"Hyuga Hizashi, Team Four," Chouga introduced, and with a silent gesture from their new instructor, the newly minted Team Four trailed him out of the Academy. Harry and Itachi were rather silent as they followed the tall man, but Hana bounded after him with energy.

"Hizashi-sensei, where are we going?" Hana asked, hot on his heals, her three gray puppies bounding after her. Hizashi gave her a silent, unreadable look and didn't slow down his stride at all. Hana kept up with him with relative ease, her longer legs making this an easier task than it was for the boys, both of whom were considerably shorter.

Hizashi led them silently off the Academy grounds and down the road. The three new Genin trailed after him like little ducklings and Harry and Itachi exchanged puzzled looks while Hana asked for the second time where they were going. They weren't going for a mission, they had left the missions office far behind them, and the Genin-favored training grounds were off towards the mountain, but they were walking away from that direction.

As they turned a corner and Hana asked about their destination for the third time, Hizashi paused and turned to regard them.

"We will have tea at Hosyu's," he said, gesturing to his side. Harry followed the direction to a little tea house situated between a civilian tailor's and a three story apartment block painted a minty green.

"Tea?" Hana asked incredulously, staring a little cross-eyed at the shop. She rounded on her instructor. "What about training? And ninjutsu? And missions? What about our missions, Hizashi-sensei!?"

Hizashi regarded her with an unreadable expression. "Will you join me for tea, Inuzuka-chan?" he asked formerly.

Hana just blinked at him, caught off guard by the man's formality, the stripes on her face making the expression look like a wild animal caught in surprise.

Hizashi repeated his invitation to Harry and Itachi, addressing both by their family name in turn. Harry merely nodded, his motion edging into something of a bow.

"I would be honored by your company, Hyuga-sensei," Itachi replied.

Hizashi nodded at Itachi, eyed Harry for a long minute and then turned his expectant gaze onto Hana, who was gaping at Itachi as if she had never seen anything quite like him before.

Harry rather got the feeling that they had suddenly all become a part of some ceremony that he had no knowledge of, and which Hizashi and Itachi both knew all the motions and proper words for. Hana's shared ignorance to the pattern did allay some of his trepidation, however.

Hizashi, having seemingly given up on getting any kind of proper response out of the girl, turned and led them into the tea shop.

Tea with Hizashi was a strange affair. The man went through the motions of preparing the tea, commenting on the flowers at the table, the scroll of calligraphy hanging on the wall next to them and serving the green tea in a way that spoke of long years of familiarity and ceremony. Harry watched him and Itachi, who seemed equally familiar with the ritual, with care wondering if drinking tea with such formality was a clan thing. Harry had only ever gulped down the thick, bitter tea that Kakashi and Minato drank in the mornings. Kushina had taken tea in the afternoons sometimes, and would share it with Harry, but they usually just sat on the back porch amongst the garden beds, sipping through a kettle of light tea and polishing off entire packets of chocolately biscuits between the two of them.

Harry had seen Kushina host Mikoto once or twice though, and what they had done over a long afternoon on the back porch was very similar to the carefully practiced motions of Hizashi.

Throughout the tea ceremony, Hizashi asked them questions about themselves, things like what they did when not training, or what their favorite foods were, or places they liked to go, and what they did when at home. Harry learned a few things about both his teammates from these questions. Hana's family was one of the clans of Konoha and had a very close relationship with dogs. All of them were given a puppy as a partner, and somehow Hana had gotten the three Haimaru brothers, three identical boy pups with gray fur and white bellies. She rattled off their names proudly, but as the three were in a pile of limbs and tails and noses, it was rather difficult to tell which was which.

Harry revealed that he wasn't from Konoha, initially, which seemed to surprise them all quite a bit.

"Aren't you related to the Hokage, though?" Hana asked, as if relation to a Hokage demanded one be from Konoha.

"He married my cousin," Harry said. "She took me in when my aunt sent me here."

Hana stared at him with open shock, clearly having had no idea of Harry's family at all.

"I did not know Hokage-sama was married," Itachi commented.

Harry merely nodded, and in an effort to turn the conversation away from him and his family - Kushina - he asked their new instructor if he was married.

"Yes," Hizashi said. "And I have a son, Neji, who is now two years old."

He said this with a strange mixing of pride through a frown.

With that, Harry learned that all of them had a younger sibling of a relative age, Hana and Itachi both had little brothers and Harry had Naruto and Hizashi, his son.

Itachi already knew, but Harry told his new teammates that his dream, goal and drive was to protect his precious people, and that was why he was a shinobi.

"That is a noble reason, Uzumaki-kun," Hizashi told him. "Many choose to be shinobi for the same reason, to protect something that they care about."

Harry's eyes flickered to Itachi, who had started at the Academy because it was expected of him - like all in his clan - before he eyed the other two members of his team, both members of their own clans. "Is that why you are shinobi, Hyuga-sensei?"

Hizashi nodded. "I am shinobi to protect my family, my clan and my village, and to protect our future."

Hana had an odd look on her face, as if she were only now considering the reasons of why and wasn't sure she liked them.

"Why did you become a shinobi, Hana-chan?" Harry asked her.

Hana's somewhat twisted facial expression cleared into a wide, confidant grin that stretched the stripes on her cheeks. "What else would I be?"

Harry supposed that her response was a lot like Itachi's had been when Shisui had asked them why they wanted to be shinobi.

"When will we start missions, Hizashi-sensei?" Hana demanded as the plate of light snacks on the table emptied and she apparently got bored of the get-to-know-each-other session.

Hizashi took his time, setting his tea down on the table in front of him before settling his hands on his lap and gazing at the girl across from him.

"There will be no missions until you have passed my final test," Hizashi told them.

They all stared at him.

"But we've already graduated!" Hana protested. "You can't give us more tests!"

"I may, and I will," Hizashi said. "You may have passed the Academy tests, but my word is the final say. If you do not pass my tests, then you will return to the Academy without your hitai-ate and will have to retake the graduation exams."

This announcement did not sit well with any of the new Genins, though Itachi probably hid it the best of them all, and Hana was by far the most vocal about her ideas on the matter.

They parted ways very shortly after that, with Hizashi's formal farewells, and instructions to meet him at the Fifth Training Ground at eight in the morning to commence his final tests of them.

"Well," Hana said mutinously as they watched the Hyuga glide down the road away from them.

"What do you think it'll be?" Harry asked his two teammates, who were flanking him.

Hana curled her lip at the tea house they had just exited. "Probably to have tea."

Harry considered this. "I don't know," he said, "that seems a little silly. Shouldn't he test us on shinobi stuff?"

"I don't see why he needs to test us again at all," Hana said. "We've passed the graduation exams and I'm sure the Academy gave our results to him. He should already know we're ready! We've been training for years!"

Harry watched the girl continue to grumble through her scowl, her facial expressions open and sharp as she ranted. He glanced at Itachi, curious what the other boy thought, but Itachi was still watching the road that Hizashi had disappeared down, his expression reflective. It was more emotion than the other boy usually showed. Harry reached out and lightly tapped one finger on the corner of the boy's shoulder, which made the Uchiha whip his head around. Harry had already retracted his hand, and raised one eyebrow in question at the other. Itachi regarded him silently for a long moment before offering a one-shouldered shrug.

Well none of them had any idea what the test would be.

Harry sighed, eyeing the growling girl on his left and then the super-silent Uchiha on his right. Hana was a long-limbed girl, older than Itachi but close to Harry's age. If he recalled correctly, she was a year behind him, while Itachi was even younger. Still, Hana was a good half a head taller than Harry. Her coltish body was covered by a pale jacket that she had belted at her waist with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. It was long enough to drape over her hips and the slim shorts she wore.

"Should we go check out the Fifth Training Ground?" he suggested.

Hana huffed. "Somebody probably already has it signed out."

Harry shrugged as if to say, who knows? but Hana wasn't paying any attention to his body language. Instead she gave one last growl at the end of the road, before whirling on her heels, her pony-tailed hair flaring around her head. Harry ducked her hair, and watched her stalk off in the opposite direction that Hizashi had gone. Her three puppies bounded after her with happy yips and the occasional play-wrestle.

Harry turned to Itachi and shrugged again. Itachi remained silent but his head tilted just slightly to the side, as if waiting for Harry to say something. Harry slipped a senbon from the folds of linen wrapped around his forearm and held the needle up between them. Itachi's eyes flickered between him and the senbon and back.

"Sansangogo?" Harry asked simply.

o-

"Every new Genin team is tested by their jonin-sensei," Minato told him that evening when Harry asked about it. "Most usually pass."

Harry was not particularly comforted by this assessment.

"But what is the test on?" Harry asked. "How can I study for it if I don't know what it's about?"

Minato gave him a small smile over Naruto's head, who was perched on his father's lap and happily using the Hokage's desk as a drawing surface for a particularly neon green crayon. Minato hadn't yet noticed that the toddler was scribbling wildly across official looking documents and not the plain sheets of paper put there for the boy's entertainment.

"You'll do fine, Hisui," Minato said. "I have every faith that your team will pass the test."

Harry pouted, pulling at his bangs in frustration and exasperation at the lack of information. Small twinges of pain had him letting his hair go and he inspected his hands critically. He and Itachi had spent some time playing their targeting game before parting ways. During their increasingly daring and elaborate attempts at throwing senbon at their targets, they had taken to using the trees and their slowing increasing skills at tree walking in conjunction with acrobatics and throws - Harry had managed to take his fair share of tumbles as he pushed himself past his skills. His left hand had taken the brunt of his injuries as he scraped it down the rough bark of a tree to turn himself around and save his head from a personal meeting with the ground.

The rough gouges in his palm and across his fingers and his broken nails were already healing, but still tender. Harry poked at the wounds idly, flexing his hand.

"Did you clean it?" Minato asked.

Harry glanced up at the blonde to see Minato watching him over Naruto's head, his eyes sharp and watchful, his brow tinged with concern. Harry nodded and as if to prove it, held his hand up to the other.

"It's already better," Harry told him. Minato inspected his hand silently and Harry saw his face filter through concern, critique and satisfaction. Harry dropped his hand back to his lap once Minato nodded his acceptance.

"You are healing quickly, Hisui," the blonde told him.

Harry knew this already, but it wasn't anything really new, and Minato knew that, so neither of them said more about it.

Giving up on needling data out of Minato about the nature of his looming test, Harry asked about the strange ritual over tea that Hizashi enacted.

"Ah," the blonde said, surprised and nodded. "The tea ceremony. The Hyuga would practice it and teach it to their members, of course."

Harry thought about this. "It seemed very complex."

"It often is," Minato agreed.

"You don't think the test will be about tea, do you?" Harry asked.

Minato grinned and then noticed Naruto's neon green scribbles on his paperwork.

"Naruto!"

o-

Harry arrived at the Fifth Training Ground thirty minutes early and with two rice balls still in hand for breakfast. He lounged near its gate, eyeing the patch of forest beyond. He could hear the sound of running water somewhere out of sight, and the mountain that the Hokage's faces were carved into ran up behind all the trees. The gate was a wooden, slatted thing attached to a running wall of chain links that curved around and disappeared into the trees, seemingly enclosing the bit of forest into a semi-circle butted up against the mountain. Harry debated entering or waiting at the gate for his team, and settled against the gate with a sigh.

Maybe he hadn't needed to run all the way there.

Harry was just finishing his final rice ball when Itachi arrived, strolling along the path that wound between the backside of the Third Training Ground and led to grounds four, five and beyond them, along the tall village walls, the sixth.

Harry licked the last traces of rice from his fingers and waved.

Itachi leaned up against the fence beside him without a word. Harry used the time to ensure that the thin wrap of linen bandages around his left hand were secure. Itachi watched this in silence, having been present when Harry had gotten the injury. The wounds were healing well, but the scabs were a little tender and Harry didn't want it to interfere with whatever test Hizashi had for them.

By the time Hizashi arrived, promptly at eight, Harry and Itachi were playing a pick-up game with Harry's collection of senbon between their knees. Harry glanced at the man as he rounded the bend from his cross-legged seat. Harry's motion cued Itachi into their teacher's presence and he looked over his shoulder from the crouch he was in, his fingers frozen over the interlocking pile of senbon.

"Where is Hana?" Harry asked quietly, more to Itachi than to their approaching team leader. Itachi did not dignify Harry's question with a response, instead standing and offering their instructor a quiet, "good morning, Hyuga-sensei."

"Good morning, Uzumaki-kun, Uchi-"

Hizashi's greeting was interrupted by a loud holler, "I'm here!" followed by Hana, careening down the path in a wild sprint, one pup under an arm and the second two racing after her. She skidded to a stop in front of them, gasping for breath but grinning happily to have arrived close to on time.

"Good morning, Inuzuka-chan," Hizashi greeted after a long minute, his voice betraying not a drop of anger or disappointment in her mad dash and tardiness. In fact, his tone was just even, without much inflection at all.

One of Hana's puppies nosed at the pile of senbon and snuffed. Harry reached out to pat it once on the head, a gesture that had the pup spinning on its paws and growling at him. Harry watched the little pup for a long minute, more amused by it than anything. Its hair was standing on end and its big eyes were narrowed cutely in a snarl. One of its brothers tackled it suddenly, and they both sprawled over the senbon and rolled across the ground, growling and yipping and chewing on each other's ears.

Harry began picking up his scattered senbon.

"Your test is this:" Hizashi said, wasting little time now that their greetings were completed. The three Genin perked up in varying degrees of tenseness and anticipation. Hizashi held up two strips of white linen gauze between his fingers. They stared at the fluttering pieces of fabric, confused.

"I will post these at the far end of the training ground," Hizashi said, gesturing behind him at the gate. "I will be guarding them, and each of you must work to retrieve a flag and return here. If by noon, you have failed to do this, you fail my test and you will be sent back to the Academy."

Harry was silent along with this teammates. Hana managed to speak first.

"You're missing one. There's three of us."

Hizashi's face shifted into something that was almost a smirk, the most emotion they had seen from him yet.

"There are rules applied to this test," Hizashi continued, raising one finger in the air before them. "Rule number one, in order to pass, you must retrieve a flag back to this point."

Hizashi ignored Hana's mumbled, "well, duh."

"Rule number two," he said, raising a second finger, "the test ends at noon."

Harry eyed the sky and the still low light of the morning. The sun had risen, but the tall trees still shrouded it, making it seem earlier than it was. By noon the sun would be directly overhead and they would be able to see it without difficulty, even through the thick canopy.

Hizashi raised a third finger. "In order to pass, you must come at me with intent."

Hana huffed, eyeing the flags in his hand with sharp, determined eyes. Harry glanced at Itachi and saw the boy looking down the length of fencing that enclosed the training ground. He sighed. He was going to be facing steep odds with Hana's fierce determination and Itachi's natural ability.

Hizashi did not add a third flag to his collection, and all three of the Genin noted this.

Hizashi told them that they had to give him a thirty second head start to hang the flags at the opposite end of the grounds, and then the Hyuga entered the training ground and disappeared.

Itachi began counting aloud immediately.

o-

Harry stared moodily at the two strips of linen, flapping lightly in the breeze. They had been tacked to the highest point of a branchless, half-dead tree that towered over the vague clearing. Situated at the far end of the little forest of the training ground, edged on one side by a narrow, bubbling stream, the clearing was mostly very light brush and rough, long grass and butted up close to the ground's encircling fence. In the very center was a cragged old tree that was once clearly very tall and rather majestic, but now was just cracked and old, though it was still very tall and competed with the towering fire country trees surrounding it. It looked like it had been struck by lightning.

At its base was Hizashi, standing tall and poised and watching the clouds in the sky over his head or the birds flying over, apparently completely oblivious to Harry's glower from the tree line.

Behind the jonin, muffled and mutinous, was Hana, tied to the tree with so much rope that Harry could barely see her beneath it all. Her puppies were equally tied, collared and leashed to the girl's feet looking as rebellious as their owner.

"We could have used her for this," Itachi murmured very quietly, his chin hovering over Harry's shoulder.

Harry glanced at the younger boy and then back at the display before them. They could have used Hana. Neither of the boys were proud enough to think that they could take on a jonin nor distract one for long. But with Hana they could have tag-teamed Hizashi while the third worked to retrieve the flags. They had to get Hizashi away from the tree.

"We'll have to free her," Harry said, almost as quietly as Itachi had spoken. "We don't have a lot of time left, it's almost noon."

"We will need a distraction."

Harry considered this. "I can do that."

Itachi shifted and Harry could see the boy looking at him from the corner of his eye. Harry pulled a few tags from his hip pouch and smirked.

Itachi eyed the tags and then nodded, a slight twitch and curve of his lips revealing his own smirk. "Traps?"

Harry nodded and pinned one of the tags to a nearby tree with a senbon.

"Can I set them off?" Itachi asked, inspecting the scriptlines on the tag.

Harry nodded. "With just a touch of chakra."

Itachi's eyes raked over the tag. "A flash?"

"And bang," Harry said with a grin, and held out three more tags to the boy. Itachi took them and glanced at their instructor and teammate by the tree.

"I'll set them off and lure him away," Itachi said.

Harry shook his head with a small smirk, making Itachi look at him strangely. "We both will," Harry said, smirk turning to a grin. "I don't think a jonin will fall for an obvious lure."

Itachi was silent, so Harry pulled another tag from his hip pouch, this one different than the flash-bang tags he had already handed over. Itachi's eyes read over the scripts quickly and Harry could see the dawning realization of Harry's hacked plan in his eyes.

"Ready?" Harry asked.

o-

Their plan went off without a hitch until Hizashi put his hand through Harry's chest.

The jonin had not fallen for the trio of Bunshin clones that Itachi utilized as distractions, but Harry's seal clones were of a different sort and instead of being sort-of illusions that could not take nor deal damage, Harry's clones were of a solid variety that could deal damage very well, thank you, but couldn't take hits at all.

Hizashi ignored Itachi's clones completely as soon as he swung an arm through one, though the jonin seemed to have taken the swing only as a courtesy. Harry's trio of seal clones closed in just behind Itachi's, charging straight through the illusionary clones and took the jonin by surprise. It wasn't much of a surprise, and Hizashi saw the difference between their two types of clones very quickly, but it was just enough for Harry to drop another flash-bang tag at the jonin's feet, just as the man's hand went through his chest and dispersed the clone.

Itachi's and Harry's clones had only gotten the jonin as far as the edge of the tree line and another Harry was only a pace from the tied-up Hana when Hizashi sent a kunai into his last clone and a second straight at Harry.

Harry ducked under it and dashed the remaining distance to the pole-tree.

Itachi - the real Itachi, not any of his visual clones - utilized the split second opportunity to dash at the jonin from the opposite direction. Hizashi kicked up a heel at the incoming Uchiha, but Itachi dropped to the ground and slid right under the man's leg.

Itachi then activated the flash-bang tag that Harry's clone had dropped under the man's feet.

It didn't have a concussive force, being a tag that only let loose sound and light, but it was a loud bang and the flash lit up the clearing like lightning in the dark. Having expected the light, Harry closed his eyes just as he saw Itachi's fingers close in on the tag, so his sight was saved from the bright flash, though his ears rang in the aftermath of the tag's bang.

Harry opened his eyes just in time to aim the slice of his kunai through the ropes around Hana. As the girl regained her feet, Harry put the handle of the kunai between his teeth and began scrambling up the tree. In his peripheral vision, he saw Hizashi walking calming towards the girl, with Itachi left behind him, trussed up like a pig and left squirming near the tree line, his dark eyes narrowed on the man's back.

"That was a dirty trick!" Hana yelled at Hizashi. Harry was curious what he had done, having not seen the encounter that had resulted in the girl's capture.

"Give me a few!" Harry asked of the girl, his hands and feet scrambling to find purchase on the limbless tree. His ability to tree climb with chakra was iffy at best, and he didn't even try, so Harry had to really focus and use both hands and feet to make his way up it. He heard Hana's puppies yip and growl below him, and her loud challenge to their teacher, but Harry was more focused on his climb and the two flags over his head.

Hana called out the name of some technique below him, but Harry couldn't split his attention enough to see what she was doing, or how she was doing agains Hizashi. Just as he neared the top of the tree, he heard Hana yell out and he risked a glance downward. Hizashi had flung her by a foot away from the tree, one of her puppies curled in her chest as she flew across the clearing. She crashed through the brush near Itachi and Harry's eyes darted to the jonin at the base of the tree.

With no apparent effort at all, Hizashi leapt to the tree and ran up it as if he were not held down by gravity at all. Harry grit his teeth around the kunai and climbed up the last meter with an edge of desperation. His fingers closed around the flags just as Hizashi's head came into his line of sight on the other side of the tree. Harry didn't waste any time, and pushed himself backward as hard as he could, flinging his body out into the air.

Hizashi looked rather surprised by this action, which was probably the only thing that gave Harry time enough to knot the flags around the kunai's circular hilt, flip in the air, and throw it towards his teammates on the ground.

It thunked home in the dirt in front of Itachi's nose, whose bonds were being sawed through by Hana. As soon as his hand was free, Itachi grabbed the kunai and flags and sprinted into the tree line. Before he even made it past the first tree he flung the flagged kunai into the trees.

"Get to the gate!" Harry called at the girl, who was staring after Itachi and the thrown kunai.

Hana whipped her head around just in time to see Harry crash to the ground, and the clone disperse.

Itachi did not stop running after he threw, and far ahead amidst the trees, Harry dropped from a tree and pried the flung kunai from its target. The flags tied to it fluttered at the motion. As soon as it was loose he sprinted away, a fair distance ahead of the running Itachi. With his back to the others, Harry took the time to slip one of the flags free of its knot and wrap it around the bandages already on his hand. It blended in, and he knotted the remaining flag further around the kunai's handle, disguising the loss.

Hizashi, who was perched regally atop the tall tree, ran right back down it, his eyes on Hana as she finally scrabbled to her feet and sprinted after the departed Uchiha.

Harry - the real Harry - kept pace ahead of Itachi, the flagged kunai gripped in his hand. His longer legs and quicker pace slowly allowed him to pull ahead of the younger boy, but just as he thought they'd won, that he'd be able to reach the gate, Hizashi dropped down in front of him like a gray shadow.

Harry hadn't even noticed him catch up.

Harry skidded in full sprint and just before he ran headlong into the man he twisted on his toes and flung the kunai back through the trees towards Itachi. The torsion of the movement at that speed caused him to tumble and roll roughly, and he collided with the raised roots of a tree. Gasping through the sudden pain from the rough landing, Harry saw Hizashi leaping through the trees after the flagged kunai. Harry winced and forced himself to his feet. Starting a little slow as he ensured all his limbs were still working, Harry returned to his sprint through the trees towards the gate.

His fall had allowed Itachi to catch up and nearly by-pass him just as Hizashi dropped to block the Uchiha's path as he had Harry's. Itachi did the same thing Harry did, and flung the flagged kunai backwards to Hana. She didn't catch it out of its throw, and it thunked into the bark of a tree. She ripped it out of the tree as she went past, hardly slowing down. Running behind the two boys, Hana had clearly picked up on their plan and as Itachi stumbled awkwardly from his throw and Hizashi jumped over the boy's head towards the girl, Hana sprinted right at the man. Instead of leaping up to avoid Hizashi's block, she dropped to the ground and skidded at his feet, kicking up dust and leaves.

From out of the little cloud her puppies scattered, dashing through the brush. Harry saw that one of them had the flagged kunai its his jaws and he grinned.

"He's coming!" she called.

Harry glanced over at Itachi through the trees, then risked a quick look behind him to Hana, who was sprawled across the ground and looked to be trying to hack up the dust she had stirred up. Hizashi's gray form loomed in front of her, his pace easy and almost lazy as he disregarded her and followed the dogs sprinting through the underbrush.

Hana crawled to her feet and ran after him.

The puppies dashed in a crazy zig-zagging pattern, their look-a-like hides making their mad dash an effective cover. Their small bodies allowed them to dash under brush and roots that Hizashi was unable to follow through, slowing the jonin down somewhat.

Harry knew it wouldn't last though.

Harry pulled kunai between the fingers of his right hand and purposefully ran straight at a tree in front of him. With his velocity, Harry was able to run a fair distance up its side before he lost any control and just before gravity grabbed hold of him again he kicked off the tree and flipped in mid-air.

His kunai sailed back through the trees with good aim and towards the trailing jonin. Hizashi ducked two and pushed the third aside with the flat of his hand, but Hana gained a half stride of distance on the man. Harry pulled another kunai and faced him down.

Hiashi slowed his run into a steady walk forward and Hana circled around him, her eyes a little wide as Harry squared off with the jonin.

Harry knew he couldn't beat him. Hizashi was a jonin, but Harry was determined to buy Hana enough time to get the flag to the gate, so Harry's focus was deterring the man from stopping her.

It wasn't easy.

Hizashi had a fluid sort of taijutsu that made landing a hand on him nearly impossible and the man kept spinning around Harry to his back. Harry felt rather ineffective and the feeling was very aggravating. Still, every time Hizashi slipped past Harry's defense to go after the other two, Harry would put himself back between them.

And then Hizashi got hold of his wrist and tossed him straight up into the canopy. Harry crashed through the branches and winced as he got tangled in the interwoven limbs of the thick canopy. He nearly went crashing right back down through them all, but managed to reach out and grab hold of a branch to stop his fall. He dangled by his arm, a good long distance from the forest's floor, which was distinctly devoid of one Hyuga Hizashi.

Off in the distance he heard a surprised yelp from Hana that was closely followed by her cursing. Harry sighed and reached up to add his second hand to the branch over his head. It took some maneuvering and a rather daring jump, but Harry made his way back to the ground. He ran off in a jog, noting the silence of the training ground and concerned by it. He found Hana halfway, strung up by her ankle from a tree as if she had stepped into a trap. Harry stared at her for a long minute before she caught sight of him and yelled for him to let her down.

Harry pulled a kunai, twirled it once around his fingers to give her a minute to assimilate his intent, and then flung it through the rope holding her over the ground. She fell with a startled yelp and barely landed on all fours, saving her head from the injury.

"Come on," he said, before she could yell at him. She grumbled but kept on his heals as he ran towards the gate.

They emerged from the tree line a little warily as it was still very silent. Harry eyed the sun over their heads and scowled but then he caught sight of Itachi and Hizashi. Hizashi was stood before the ground's gate, his arms crossed over his chest. Itachi was squared off with the man, a few paces apart with Hana's trio of puppies trussed up together just behind him. Itachi had the flagged kunai clutched tightly in one fist.

Harry made a gesture to Hana to circle around them in one direction and Harry went the opposite way. As he skirted around the two, Harry eyed the sun that sat high over them, and he slipped a kunai from his pouch.

Hizashi's eyes flickered between the three arrayed around him but he focused on Itachi and the flagged kunai in his fist. The young Uchiha just stared straight back at him, not yet moving and seeming to completely ignore his two teammates to either side of him. Harry suddenly broke into a sprint towards the gate, a move that Hana copied. Itachi jumped backwards, over the dogs' heads and putting more distance between himself and the jonin. Hizashi didn't really move, but leaned slightly towards Harry as if considering him the first target of the three.

But as Harry and Hana neared the gate behind him and Itachi threw the flagged kunai towards the girl, Hizashi moved against his leaning and intercepted the kunai before it neared her. She let out a disappointed cry.

Harry just kept going and crashed through the gate.

He panted, using the slatted gate to help hold him up after the long sprint through the ground's trees. Hana was little better, breathing harshly as she glared at the jonin for his interception of the flags. She had slid to her knees, staring up at Hizashi. Beyond them, Itachi was also breathing hard, watching them with unreadable, dark eyes.

Hizashi looked around him at the three, then up at the sun directly over head. "You've failed," Hizashi said blandly.

"But we almost got it!" Hana cried.

"Almost does not complete a mission," Hizashi told her seriously, his voice edging into cold. "Almost is not good enough when you are tasked to guard your client from robbery or death. Almost is not good enough when you must sneak into a lord's manor and escape with information without alerting them to your presence. Almost is not good enough when your team and your Hokage and your village depend on you to complete your mission."

The Hyuga stared down at the girl and then said harshly, "You've failed your mission."

"No we didn't."

Hizashi blinked and looked up at Itachi. The Uchiha had strolled forward easily and cut the puppies loose from their ties. Then he straightened and pointed back behind Hizashi to the gate and to Harry. When the jonin's white eyes met his, Harry held up his wrapped left hand. He slowly reached up with his other and unwrapped the flag from the rest of the bandages around his hand. He let it flutter in the breeze from his fingers.

"Hey! When'd you do that?" Hana asked as she stared.

"The first time I got hold of them after Itachi threw them into the trees," Harry said.

"You've had one the whole time?"

Harry shrugged at the girl and watched Hizashi's face.

"So, you pass?" Hana asked him with narrowed eyes.

"No, we all do," Itachi said surely.

"Oh?" Hizashi said. "Are you sure about that?"

Itachi merely nodded so Harry explained. "You never said that we each had to have a flag to pass, just that we all had to work to retrieve it and that a flag had to come back to the gate by noon. We've all worked to retrieve the flag," Harry gestured to his teammates, and then waved the linen flag in his hand, "and we got a flag back to the gate."

Hana grinned widely. "Mission accomplished!"

Hizashi was silent for a long minute and Hana's smile slipped a little as he dragged it on.

She tried again. "Mission accomplished, right Hizashi-sensei?"

Finally, the Hyuga offered them a small, satisfied smile and he nodded.

"Well done, Team Four," he said, making Hana's grin break out wide again. "You pass."

Harry grinned as well and as he looked over his team, even Itachi wore a small, satisfied smile.

o-

"The test is about teamwork," Minato confirmed when Harry had finished telling him every minute detail of his team's victory. "He probably would have passed you even if you didn't succeed in gaining the flags, so long as you all three worked as a team."

"But we did get the flags," Harry said. "One of them, anyways." He was quite proud of this fact.

Minato nodded a wide smile on his face.

"It sounds like you did well, Hisui," Rin's voice came from her place in the kitchen. She had promptly kicked both Harry and Minato out of the area when they had tried to help. Kakashi hadn't even tried, though if it was from refusal to cook or knowing that the girl wouldn't have allowed the help, Harry wasn't sure. Rin's head suddenly appeared around the wall between the kitchen and the table where the boys all sat, tucked up under the stairs to the second floor. She grinned brightly at him. "You all worked together to accomplish your mission."

"You could have utilized your clones more effectively, though," Kakashi commented idly. Harry eyed the young jonin rather petulantly. Kakashi was seated on the booth of the table right next to Harry, his covered eye facing him so Harry barely saw a sliver of his face at all. Harry stuck his tongue out at him, sparking a startled laugh from Minato, who was sitting across from the two white-haired boys.

Kakashi eyed the Hokage briefly before turning to regard Harry through his one eye, but by that time Harry's tongue had retreated and he was watching Minato laugh with satisfaction.

"Your Fuin Bunshin are solid," Kakashi continued, as if Minato hadn't started laughing out of the blue. "You could have used them more efficiently."

"I didn't really know they were that different from the Academy's clones until I saw Hizashi-sensei's fist go through Itachi's Bunshin and they didn't disperse."

Kakashi turned to Minato, "Aren't solid clones dangerous?"

Minato nodded slowly, his lips still twitching a little in mirth. "Hmm, some yes. The Kage Bunshin are dangerous. They use up a lot of chakra and most can't create more than a couple of them. But Uzushio's Fuin Bunshin variation, while solid, are just a little different."

"How so, Minato-sensei?" Rin asked, leaning absently against the edge of the wall.

The blonde regarded Harry for a moment. "Harry, would you create one Fuin Bunshin, please?"

Harry nodded and moved Naruto from his lap to the bench between he and Kakashi. The jonin eyed the toddler a little warily, which Naruto returned with a happy gargle and a wave of a fisted, slobbery cookie. Kakashi leaned further away, but couldn't go far with the low dividing wall to the kitchen in the way.

Harry slipped a single tag from his hip pouch and reached over to lay it on the floor beside the table. His clone poofed into existence with a trailing bit of smoke. Across from him, Minato created a typical Konoha Bunshin clone and the two stood shoulder to should beside the table. Then, Minato made a handseal Harry had never seen before and with a mumbled, "Kage Bunshin," created another clone, which stood along with the other two.

Everyone regarded the three. Besides two being Minato, and one being Harry, there were no distinct differences between them all. From appearances, they were all clones and they could not be distinguished. Minato's Kage Bunshin then waved his hand through the regular Bunshin's shoulder, making the illusionary clone shimmer like a faint heat wave.

"The center is, of course, the Academy taught Bunshin clone," Minato commented. "They are visual clones, and are classed as illusions, because they are not solid. As you can see, physical objects can pass through them without disrupting them."

Minato gestured to the clones' feet. "Note that these illusionary clones have no shadows."

"But the other two do," Harry said.

"Yes," Minato agreed.

Minato's Bunshin then returned the gesture, and waved its hand through the Kage Bunshin's shoulder.

"Likewise, a Bunshin cannot affect anything physical around it," Minato commentated. "But a Kage Bunshin is able to affect its physical environment, or opponents."

The Kage Bunshin Minato reached out and stole the Hokage's cup of tea from the table, smirking slightly. It raised the tea cup in a mocking salute, which had Rin and Harry both chuckling.

Then the blonde struck out like lightning, his fingers darting out to strike the Kage Bunshin square in the chest. It dispersed with a pop, the tea cup tumbling from its fingers. The Hokage caught it easily and raised it to his lips with a smirk.

"But a Kage Bunshin is easily dispersed when its chakra system is disrupted," the blonde said. He gestured with the tea cup at the last Minato clone. "But I could do the same with the Bunshin, and I would be wasting my efforts. I cannot disrupt its chakra system, as it does not have one, and it cannot harm me anyways."

The Bunshin waved at them all with a somewhat silly grin and Minato waved it away. It shimmered and faded and was gone. The Hokage turned to the Harry clone, who regarded the blonde a little warily.

"Harry's Fuin Bunshin is somewhat in the middle of the two," Minato said. "It is solid," he reached out and pressed his fingers against the clone's arm, not hard enough to dispel it, but hard enough to push at it so it rocked backwards on its heels. The Fuin Bunshin steadied its balance and reached out to pluck the tea cup from Minato's fingers, demonstrating its ability to affect the physical environment just like the Kage Bunshin. Minato let the Harry clone steal his tea with an approving nod.

"But unlike the Kage Bunshin, it does not have a perfect copy of the original's chakra system," Minato said with a gesture at the clone's body. "A Kage Bunshin contains an equal fraction of the original's chakra, which is what makes them so dangerous. Most people do not have the capacity to split their chakra so much. The more Kage Bunshin clones made, the more fractionated the shinobi's chakra becomes, which limits the amount available to each. For many shinobi, fractioning their chakra more than two or three times cripples them considerably."

"You mean a Kage Bunshin is able to use ninjutsu?" Rin asked, surprised.

Minato nodded and clarified, "they can use chakra in all its forms."

"But a Fuin Bunshin can't," Harry said, remembering this element from his studies of the technique.

"And we can make our usual Bunshin look like they are using chakra," Rin said. "Even though they aren't using anything."

"Exactly," Minato gestured to the Harry clone again. "A Fuin Bunshin does not have a chakra circulatory system like the Kage Bunshin. It cannot use chakra in any way. It also does not fracture the shinobi's chakra like the Kage Bunshin, though I do believe it uses more chakra to create than our illusionary clones."

"So a Hyuga would be able to tell the difference," Kakashi said. Harry turned to find the boy with his Sharingan uncovered, the red eye fixated on the Fuin Bunshin still holding Minato's tea. Harry stiffened at the sight of the red eye but he didn't recoil. Instead he rather forcefully sucked in air and then let it all out again. Kakashi's eyes flickered from the clone to Harry beside him, his expression unreadable. Slowly, the older boy let his Sharingan eye close and he reached up to draw his hitai-ate back over the eye. Harry watched this all rather stiffly, his reactions beyond his full control. Kakashi continued to regard him through his normal, dark eye for a long minute before turning his face far enough away that Harry was no longer in his field of vision.

"The Sharingan is unable to copy Fuinjutsu techniques used through tags," Kakashi volunteered softly.

The dining room and kitchen was silent for a while, broken only by Naruto's distracted, happy sounds from between Harry and Kakashi. Harry forced his breathing to more regular patterns and systematically uncoiled his muscles from their sudden stiffness. He hadn't had nightmares of red eyes in a long time, but that didn't mean he forgot about them. But moreso, seeing the Sharingan in Kakashi's face was a sudden and stark reminder of Obito's loss and with how rare it was for Harry to see Kakashi's - Obito's - Sharingan at all, it always managed to surprise him terribly and he'd stiffen up at the rush of emotions and memories the sight brought with it.

With Kakashi's reactions to Harry's own, he rather thought that the young jonin remembered Obito every time he used the Sharingan, too.

"So," Harry ventured into the silence, "Hizashi-sensei will be able to see through my clones, but a Uchiha won't be able to copy the technique?"

Minato turned from his gaze out of the window that overlooked the front garden beds. Harry knew that one of the Ducks was perched out there in the tree, a silent, shadowing guardian as they dined at the row house that evening. Harry was actually pretty sure that at least two ANBU were present tonight, as he'd seen their shadows flanking them as they made their way through the village to Kushina's house. He'd only caught a look at one Duck-shaped mask though.

"I'm sure they could copy the pattern of the seal on the tag if they got a look at the scripts," Minato said, his voice betraying nothing of the stifled exchange between the two white-haired boys across from him. "But once you succeed in creating the clones without the use of the paper tags, I highly doubt that they'd be able to recreate the technique unless they had some training and knowledge of fuinjutsu. Fuinjutsu is notoriously difficult to copy, especially Uzushio's variety."

"That is a strong asset," Kakashi commented, then, "And while Hizashi-san would be able to see through your clones, he would have had to activate his Byakugan to do it. Until he did so, you could have utilized them as further distractions when you were racing for the gate."

Harry huffed, not really interested to hear any criticism on his team's total win against their jonin instructor. He was still a little too proud of having actually won the game to be willing to hear Kakashi tell him how he should have done something or could have done it better. Nor was Harry at all interested in the other boy telling him that Hizashi probably had let them win. Harry knew that already, but he didn't care.

"Also," Minato said, "while the Kage Bunshins retain and return their memories to the original when they are dispelled, the Fuin Bunshins, like the Bunshin, do not do that."

Minato reached over and simultaneously plucked his tea cup out of the clone's hands and poked it hard enough to dispel.

Harry regarded the remnant bits of chakra smoke and wondered what it would be like to suddenly receive a bunch of memories from a clone.

o-

"When do we get to start missions, Hizashi-sensei?" Hana asked the following morning as she skidded to a stop before the rest of her team. Team Four had met again at the gate of the Fifth Training Ground, with Hana sprinting down the path just barely shy of late, calling out to them as soon as she could see them.

"Soon," Hizashi answered after he had prompted her through proper greetings, "but not today."

"Aww," Hana slumped.

"And probably not tomorrow," Hizashi continued, regarding the girl as she leaned against the fencing in her disappointment. "Likely not the day after, either."

Unmoved by his genins' visible despair at ever getting a mission, Hizashi herded them all into the training ground and told them to warm up with three running laps of its perimeter, commenting how training was just as important as mission experience.

The three genin didn't bother to complain against this much as they started out on their run, though Hana grumbled for the entire first lap of it.

Training with Hizashi was a mix of the predictable and the entirely unexpected. Harry was used to the idea of running and spars and practicing kunai throws or chakra control exercises - they were expected sort of training activities, the like of which he had grown used to from the Academy. Hizashi directed or led them through these familiar training exercises every morning, and after a week, Harry was able to see a vague pattern to the physical trainings.

But there were times every other day that Hizashi had them train in something that completely took Harry by surprise, like calligraphy or the tea ceremony, or long afternoons arrayed around the low benches of a cherry tree park when their teacher told them about history and legend and tradition.

Hizashi also had a penchant for organizing games with the other genin teams. It was not unusual for Team Four to be put up against one of the other passed genin teams, like Lin's Team Three, for an afternoon of capture the flag, or ninja tag. Harry did not really need Hizashi's explanations of what sorts of skills these games were making them learn and practice.

o-

One late evening at the tower, found Harry crouched over a couple of Kushina's sealing scrolls with Naruto curled on the futon at his back. The toddler's warm body pressed against his lower back and Harry could feel the boy's steady breaths as he slept. Outside the tall, narrow window that overlooked the mission's office wing and the Academy building beyond, was the darkness of early nighttime, scattered with the lit windows of the village's still awake residents. Rain pattered heavily against the glass, interspersed with distant rumbles of thunder and the flash of lightning as it struck through the forest around Konoha.

Harry was currently studying the next step to his Fuin Bunshin technique, which would allow him to create the clones without the use of the paper sealing tags. The theory and technique was scrawled out across the scroll over his lap, detailing the steps and methods to transfer the seal that he drew out on the tags onto his skin, and how to make such a seal a permanent addition to his arsenal.

Satisfied that he had the theory down, Harry looked around his room for his inks, wanting to draw the scripts in none-chakra laced ink onto his forearm in order to practice before he added blood to the inks. Not seeing his ink pots, Harry finally remembered that he had left them in Minato's office earlier in the evening.

Harry set the scrolls aside and slid off the futon silently, eying the sleeping toddler to make sure that Naruto didn't wake. When Naruto just rolled and continue to sleep, drooling on quilt, Harry slid down the ladder and out of the door on bare feet.

He padded softly over the polished wood floor in the dark, eying the sliver of light coming from the ajar door to Minato's office at the end of the hall. The rain sounded dimly on the roof overhead. Just as he reached the door, though, he heard voices and he paused, not wanting to interrupt a meeting or debriefing. He sidled up to the door quietly and peered through the narrow space as someone spoke - and then a pained moan sounded out into the room and Harry's breath caught in his chest.

Harry hovered breathless at the door, idle curiosity making him linger. With one eye pressed close to the very narrow crack, Harry could just make out the figures in the room, or at least a small portion of the room. He recognized Minato immediately, hovering over a smaller, hunched figure in an ANBU uniform. The ANBU's mask was dangling from its ties at the teenager's belt and Harry recognized it's shape as one of the Ducks, though at the angle it hung he could not tell if it was the scratched mask of Duck Number One or not. His hair and build did not help Harry to distinguish him, and both Ducks had short, black hair and were of a similar size and build. He could not see the teen's face, either, as the ANBU had his back to Harry, and he was curled in on himself as if in great pain.

Minato had one hand on the ANBU's shoulder, gripping the muscle between neck and arm and it seemed like it was only this hold that kept the teen from toppling right over onto the floor.

"I don't know if it is a result of the cells, or if he did something else," Minato said quietly. Harry could hear the emphasis placed on the word he, and knew that the blonde spoke of somebody in particular, somebody important, not that it helped Harry identify him at all.

The unnumbered Duck grumbled out something, but Harry only caught a reference to some sort of internal battle or sickness. The teen made some gesture with his arm that Harry couldn't see, sharp and angry.

"I fear the side effects of this," Minato said. He spoke as if he had made the statement before, and was only repeating his concern.

"I've survived this long," Duck said wryly.

Like the two Ducks' hair and build, their voices were similar enough that Harry could hardly ever tell them apart, though their speech patterns were usually distinctive. The pain laced through the teen's voice, though, made it rougher and Harry could not place to which Duck it belonged.

"Still," Minato continued.

"Would Tsunade-hime be of help?" another voice asked. Harry felt his body freeze at the familiar voice that came from some corner of the office that he couldn't see. Minato glanced up past the slouched Duck to whomever had spoken.

"It is possible," Minato said slowly. "Her knowledge of medicine is extensive."

"And she was Orochimaru's teammate for many years," the other said.

Minato seemed to consider this. "She may know enough about such cell graphs to assist." He looked down at Duck's bowed head. Duck was trembling, Harry could see even from his distance through the rather dimly lit office. "This is probably the most extensive case that I've ever heard of."

There was silence for a stretch in which Minato steadily held Duck through his tense shaking and Harry considered the probability of being able to sneak away without the three shinobi in the office hearing him move. He already hardly dared to breathe.

"I will retrieve her," the third said finally.

Minato looked up at whomever it was with a cheery sort of smile, even though it was a little tight and small through his obvious worry for Duck. "Thank you for volunteering, Shisui-kun," Minato said.

The familiarity of the voice and the name finally clicked into place for Harry and he wondered how he hadn't identified Shisui right away. But then the older teen sidled into Harry's narrow range of view and he was able to catch sight of the ANBU uniform that he wore. Shisui still had his mask on, shaped into something vaguely similar to the Ducks' masks, but painted a different pattern with red stripes streaking down from the temples to the corners of the jaw below the ears.

"I'll leave immediately," Shisui said. The Uchiha made to move towards one of the office's windows, clearly intent on following through with his statement, right now, but Minato shook his head once and Shisui stopped.

"I need you here, Goose," Minato said, his voice laced with meaning. Harry wished he could see Shisui's face, but the Uchiha did not remove his mask, and he barely moved at all, not revealing anything of what he was thinking or feeling.

"I understand, Hokage-sama," Shisui said.

Duck let out a derisive sort of chuckle that had the other two looking at his bowed head. "Bastards are always scheming," Duck commented tightly. He was still trembling, and Minato was still holding onto him.

"Precisely why I need you two in the village right now," Minato said. "I will send another team to fetch Tsunade-hime, or at least to deliver a missive inquiring on her knowledge in this."

Shisui offered a respectful acknowledgement, even as Duck's body finally stilled from its constant shaking. Minato reached out and pulled Duck upright with a strong grip on his arm, his face revealing both concern and slight relief. Shisui reached out towards Duck, but his hand hovered over the shorter ANBU's right shoulder, as if afraid to touch him. Instead he shifted in order to drop his hand against Duck's left shoulder blade.

On very careful, quiet feet, Harry slowly slid back down the hall away from the office. The storm outside helped to hide the sounds of his movements and it wasn't until he was closer to his own room than the office that Harry finally dared to breathe again and he dashed back into his room as quickly as he could, shutting the door behind him with a barely-heard click. He leaned back against the door and eyed the still asleep toddler atop the raised platform, letting the strange conversation in Minato's office replay itself in his mind. Worry gnawed at him.

What was wrong with Duck?

o-

It was the very next day, three weeks after their graduation, that Team Four received its first mission.

"Yes!" Hana crowed, pumping her fist over her head. "Missions!"

Hizashi chuckled and there was something dark and promising in the sound that made Harry eye their teacher with some trepidation. Still, the three genin trailed their instructor into the Missions Office with vibrating anticipation.

The office was a continuous stream of teams and shinobi all coming or going, picking up missions or returning to report their completion. Harry sidestepped a pair of chunin not much older than him, grumbling about their looming trek to Suna for a delivery missions and a rather bloodied but satisfied jonin who cut in front of Team Four and the team of three chunin in front of them to deliver his report of success so he could retire to the hospital.

Minato was at the missions desk for the afternoon, a pile of paperwork that threatened to tower higher than the carefully stacked missions scrolls next to it. As one of the other desk attendants - a young chunin Harry didn't know, received the jonin's mission scroll to file away, Harry identified the third figure behind the desk as Genma. Genma gave the chunin team in front of them a wide grin around the senbon in his mouth. The smile was returned with a chorus of familiar greetings.

"Genma," one of the younger chunin said as he sidled up to the desk. "Give us something good, ok?"

"Yeah, no more gate guarding," another said.

"I thought you liked the guard missions, Izumo-kun," Genma said with a smirk.

Izumo was the shortest of the three chunin, though barely, and had his hitai-ate wrapped around his head like a bandana that pushed his hair down over his ears and one side of his face, nearly hiding one of his eyes completely. He frowned at Genma's words.

"How about an escort mission," one of the others said, reaching up to scratch at a scar that crossed over his nose.

"No, no," the third cut in, "those are boring!"

"How're they boring, Kotetsu?" Izumo asked, staring at him with a disgruntled frown. "At least we get out of the village a while on them."

"Give us something with some action, Genma!" Kotetsu said, ignoring Izumo entirely, which only caused the other to growl lowly at him.

Harry watched the interaction with amused fascination. The three chunin were in their early teens, older than Harry and his team, but considerably younger than Genma, who was practically a full grown adult. Kotetsu and Izumo stood shoulder to shoulder, bantering endlessly even as they carried on a conversation with Genma about their missions. The third - the one with the scar over his nose - stood barely an arms length away from them and seemed to spend half his time glowering at the pair, then he'd turn and make a comment to Genma along the same lines as his teammates.

"I have a mission for you three," Minato cut in.

His voice silenced the four chunin immediately, who all turned to regard their Hokage. Minato just leaned lazily over the desk on his elbow, propping his head up with a fist and smiled at the team of chunin.

"I have a mission that requires speed and skill in target acquirement," Minato told them. "And will also require your abilities to guard and escort. You won't have to leave Hi no Kuni for this one."

The three chunin looked between each other and then back at the half-smirking blonde Hokage.

"Alright," Izumo said with some hesitancy. "What is it?"

Minato's smirk morphed into a satisfied grin and he plucked a mission scroll from out of the middle of the pyramid stack before him. The rest of the scrolls trembled at the sudden absence of one of the pile's supports, but the tower didn't fall. Genma eyed it with some trepidation, however, even as Minato tossed the pilfered scroll to the trio of chunin.

Harry eyed the scroll as Izumo caught it. Like the rest of the scrolls in the pile, it was perhaps a hands breadth from end to end and its diameter was rather narrow compared to a few of the others - one of which on the bottom of the pile, was quite thick, belaying the length of its contents. Izumo's mission scroll was edged in yellow and the chunin eyed it for a long minute before breaking the seal and pulling it open. His teammates flanked him and read the scroll's contents over his shoulder.

"Whoa," Kotetsu commented.

"Do you know where she is?" the third asked Minato, who shook his head, no.

"Alright," Izumo said, rolling the scroll back up and slipping it into one of the many pockets of his flak vest.

"Locate the target and deliver the missive," Minato ordered them. "Escort the target back should you recieve an affirmative response."

The three chunin gave a chorus of "Yessir."

Genma marked something down on the papers spread before him, and then gave the three chunin a grin and a shooing motion. "Get on then, don't be late!"

The three chunin left with a mildly chaotic mix of insults, grumbling and speculated plans.

Harry watched them leave, wondering about their mission and the she they were looking for. Tsunade?

"Team Four," Genma greeted them with a wide grin. His senbon clacked from one side of his mouth to the other. "Mission time?"

"A D-rank, please," Hizashi said politely.

Somebody elbowed Harry in the ribs and he whipped around to Hana, who gestured with her head towards the pile of mission scrolls. Giving up on the departed chunin team, Harry gave his attention to his team's upcoming first mission and felt anticipation stir in his belly.

Genma plucked one of the blue-trimmed scrolls off the top of the pile, glanced at it briefly, and then handed it over across the table. Itachi, who was standing closest to the table of the team, received it silently.

"That's a pretty standard D-rank," Genma commented. "The storm last night downed a few trees and the parks are littered with loose branches and leaves." He gestured to the opened scroll in Itachi's hands. "That's for Komen park in the market district. It needs some straightening up."

"What? Clean-up?" Hana exclaimed, pulling the scroll from Itachi's hands to stare at it in blatant disappointment. "What kind of mission is this?"

"A D-rank," Genma told her, smirking a bit gleefully at the girl.

Hana let out a sound like a drenched cat, and Harry eyed her a little warily, wondering if she was going to rip the mission scroll apart in her ire.

"Let's go," Hizashi said, standing aside to gesture his genin towards the door.

Harry pulled at Hana's sleeve, and she reluctantly followed even as she continued to glower at the scroll. Harry gave a parting wave to Minato as they all filed out the door.

o-

Harry contracted Minato's supervision to apply his very first Uzushio seal to his skin. This was more for the blonde's sharp eye as a second opinion on the correctness of Harry's carefully copied seals than because Harry thought the man would want to supervise Harry for safety reasons.

Minato inspected the stack of two dozen copies of the seal script Harry handed him. They were each perfect copies of each other, drawn in plain black ink, blank of power. They were merely practice seals so that Harry knew he'd be able to trace the seal's design without mistake when he had to do it under the pressure of permanency.

"These are well copied," Minato congratulated. The blonde inspected Harry carefully and then his blue eyes tracked over the carefully presented sealing implements that Harry had arrayed before his knees. Minato rose and rounded the desk to kneel in front of Harry's position and sat the stack of copied seals in front of him. He didn't touch any of the sealing tools, but Harry could tell that he was still inspecting them all carefully. Harry just sat on his knees and waited him out, letting his own breathing even out and the anticipation in his gut settle as much as it would.

"Ok," Minato said softly. "Are you ready, Hisui?"

Harry nodded.

"Talk me through it once more," Minato instructed.

Harry let out a semi-impatient sigh, which sparked a wry smile from Minato, but Harry did as asked.

"The Fuin Bunshin script is centered on this kamon," Harry began, pointing to the spiral that sat at the center of the seal array. He then traced his finger over the curving line that skirted around the circular spiral and trailed away from it like a ray of the sun. There were two of them, one to either direction opposite each other, mirrors of each other in appearance but not in content. "These trailing scripts control the amount of chakra drawn and filtered. Ah, they are basically the substitutes for the handseals that most of Konoha's ninjutsu uses."

Minato nodded. "And the symbols?"

Harry pointed to each of the four symbols in turn that sat at cardinal points to the kamon at the center. "Nature, shape, body, replication." Harry then pointed out the thin line that circled through each of the symbols, connecting them and crossing the two radiating arms. "This is the containment line that draws them together."

Minato was silent long enough that Harry looked up from the array to the blonde's face. Minato's eyes were intense, tracking over the array very carefully and Harry had a stark appreciation for the man's careful analysis of his work. The consequences of screwing up a permanent inking array could be severe, and the easiest way to mess up was to miss a detail, or draw the scripts in the wrong order. Since this was Harry's very first skin inking, he was both nervous and excited.

"Ok," Minato said finally. "Let's see it."

Harry gave the blonde a grin and Minato rocked back to sit on his heels in imitation of Harry's posture. Harry focused down on the tools before him letting the instructions and method filter across his mind as he took three careful, steady breaths.

Harry picked up the bamboo brush in his left hand, cradling it familiarly in his fingers. He raised it over the inking stone, which had already been prepared with his blood, naturally laced with his chakra. He dipped the brush into the red liquid, dabbed it once on the stone's edge to rid it of excess, and carefully brought it over his inner right forearm. With another controlled exhale, Harry dropped the tip of the brush to his skin and began the much practiced pattern of the seal array, beginning with the spiraling kamon that centered over the pulse point in his wrist.

As he inked it, he felt the blood tingle on his skin, drawing chakra from both his blood as well as up through his skin, powering the array with a latent sort of energy. He drew the two rays around either side of his wrist until their end points were just a hair's breadth from each other. With the final thin stroke that encircled the kamon through the four cardinal symbols, the entire array lit with power and seared into his flesh.

Harry grit his teeth against the prickling pain and heat, watching as the black ink flashed with the green light of his chakra, lighting up the array that stretched delicately around his wrist. It settled quietly, the green light fading away to reveal the pattern etched across his skin in bright green ink. It was the same color as his eyes.

Harry reached out with the fingers of his left hand to trace around the edges of the seal, careful of the tender skin left behind. Regarding the fresh seal, Harry pulled his thumb up between his teeth and bit hard enough to draw blood. He drew the kanji for the number three directly in the center of the kamon.

The seal lit up again, tender and sore, but brilliant in light and three clones poofed into existence around him. Harry eyed them with a wide grin, immensely satisfied. They were just like Harry's tag-based Fuin Bunshin, solid but without chakra. They'd be able to dole out damage, but not any sort of chakra technique. They were even restricted from water walking and tree climbing. But they could hit.

"How does he react?" Minato asked him, inspecting the trio of clones. Not once during the use of the seal did he feel the struggle of the pull-push on his chakra that the handseal reliant techniques caused. With the regulation of chakra amount drawn into the scripts of the seal, his chakra reacted easily to the seal's activation. The tag seals had been relatively easy, requiring only a trickle of chakra to activate, with the number of needed clones built into the drawn seal. Neither was like the Academy's Bunshin, where Harry had to carefully regulate his chakra in order to match the number of clones he wanted while simultaneously molding that chakra into the right form - it was too much when he was also struggling with the stupid fox in his head.

Harry finally shrugged in response to the blonde's question and sat his brush down onto its rest.

"There is no reaction," Harry told him. "Not like when I try techniques with handseals and I have to regulate my chakra actively. Then when I pull chakra from the chains, he pushes up against them, and then I have to push him back down and the technique fails or he pushes too hard and too much chakra comes out, like he's pushing a wave of it back at me."

Minato regarded him after this explanation with a combination of mild concern and no small amount of amusement.

"You are using all of your chakra to hold him, aren't you, Hisui?"

Harry shrugged, unsure. "Maybe. Probably. I don't know."

"I doubt that with the use of one of the Academy techniques that you would use enough chakra to afford him an opening to escape," Minato speculated. "I suspect he is just making things difficult. Kushina often commented how he did so."

Harry thought about that. "You don't think he'll get out?"

Minato gave him a wide grin. "I trust you will be able to hold him, Hisui."

"But will I ever be able to do ninjutsu?"

Minato reached out and laid his good hand on Harry's shoulder, giving the muscles there a comforting squeeze. "Yes," the blonde said simply.

Harry let out a long breath, comforted by Minato's words and trust but also feeling like he had a lot of work ahead of him.

"As you grow and practice, your chakra capacity will expand," Minato said. "If you can hold him now without him pushing against you while you are at rest, than I have no doubt that you will be able to perform powerful ninjutsu when you are older."

Harry huffed. "But what about now?"

Minato chuckled and rocked back on his heels. Harry pouted at the man.

"Kushina once told me that she at first used every ounce of her power to hold the fox in," Minato said softly. "Because she was so scared that she would fail and he would escape her. But then she learned how to condense her hold on him and make the cage more efficient so she could also use her chakra to fight outside of her body."

"The chakra chains?"

Minato nodded. "I remember seeing her use them once when she was young, before she gained the fox though I hadn't known that at the time. But there were many years where she did not use them at all. It wasn't until much later that I saw her use them again."

Harry sat back on his heels and let his eyes wander over the sealing tools in front of him, Minato's words rolling through his mind. It was comforting to know that Kushina had gone through much of the same struggles that he was now and to know that she overcame them to become a powerful shinobi gave Harry a lot of hope. He turned his wrist over on his knees and watched as the newly inked seal let out a faint shimmer across his skin.

"That is a well done seal, Hisui," Minato said.

Harry beamed, staring at his very first Uzushio seal, permanently marked across his skin.

o-

Harry did not see the trio of chunin return to the village, nor Tsunade's medical check on Duck, but Harry did see Tsunade if only because she was loitering in Minato's office one evening when Harry returned from picking Naruto up at Mikoto's.

With the office door ajar, Harry had no qualms about walking right in and the lone chunin aid remaining in the reception office barely gave him a glance.

Harry paused as he caught sight of her and Naruto gabbed into his ear from his position of imitating a monkey on Harry's back. Lounged comfortably in Minato's chair, Tsunade eyed him over her raised cup of sake.

"How was your day, Hisui-kun?" Minato asked.

Harry pulled his eyes away from the medic to give Minato a rather weary smile. "It's a game day," Harry told him, which caused Minato's eyes to light up in obvious mirth. "Capture the flag against Team Two," Harry continued, trying to let Naruto down onto the floor. The little toddler just clung tighter to Harry's neck, lifting his legs up high under Harry's arms in protest of the idea.

As if the choking hold Naruto had on his neck wasn't enough the toddler chanted, "No, no, nonono."

Harry sighed and just sat down right where he was, halfway into the office. He crossed his legs in front of him and Naruto didn't even move, clinging tightly to his back, his legs still tucked tight up under Harry's arms.

"Stay there, then," Harry commented easily, reaching up to grip the boy's little feet and give them a shake.

Naruto's grip didn't loosen, but neither did he let go. The toddler tucked his wild head of hair into the back of Harry's neck and started blowing weak raspberries along his spine. Harry rolled his shoulders against the almost tickle.

"Who won?" Minato asked, watching the two with fond amusement.

"Team Two," Harry said, disappointed. "They've got a Hyuga and an Aburame, and they took Hana out almost right away. The Haimaru pups were still whining at the Aburame at the end of the game. I think he gave them flees or something. Then Kabe nearly gave me a concussion and putting a defensive Hyuga against an offensive Uchiha was just pointless. They went on forever and the Aburame got our flag before I stopped seeing double and I'm pretty sure they cheated."

Minato chuckled, the sound nearly drowned out by Tsunade's barking laugh. Harry just glowered at them.

o-

Tsunade gave the two boys a casual medical check-up, with Naruto refusing to leave his Harry-perch all the while, even when Minato tried to coach his son into this arms. Naruto seemed to think it all a game, giggling madly and nearly cutting off Harry's air with the tight grip he had around his neck. Harry sat on the edge of Minato's desk. Tsunade worked around this, though she grumbled about stubborn kids.

"Well, your weight is lower than it was last time," she told Harry, eying him intently. "You've dropped a full stone." She turned to Minato. "What did he do to muck it up now?"

Harry frowned at the implication that he was at fault, but Minato's serious, contemplative expression stopped him from voicing his objections. Instead, he watched the Hokage's face as Minato looked Harry over.

"It could be from the night of the kidnapping," Minato said finally, prompting Tsunade to return her regard to Harry. "He activated the curse seal that night."

Harry blinked, surprised. He had?

"Didn't you have a Fuja Hoin on that?" Tsunade said, her voice accusing. "I told Jiraiya to check on it, that lout!"

"It wasn't there," Harry told her. Tsunade's eyes narrowed at him and he continued. "Jiraiya said it wasn't there. I think the fox ate it."

Tsunade did not look convinced. "Ate it?"

Harry shrugged one shoulder. "Well, it ate the snakes, I guess the Fuja Hoin went with them."

"More likely the Fuja Hoin simply broke when you sealed the fox, Hisui," Minato corrected. "It is not the most stable of seals, and while it could potentially hold back Orochimaru's cursed seal, such a powerful force as the nine-tails would very likely burn it out completely."

"So he's vulnerable to Orochimaru's juinjutsu?" Tsunade asked.

Minato did not immediately respond, which made Harry feel a bit nervous.

"I –" Harry stopped, swallowed and then started again, taking considerable comfort from Naruto's heat wrapped around his back. "I used the curse seal?"

Minato's gaze softened and he reached out to grip Harry's shoulder.

"You drew on the nine-tails' power when you chased after Naruto," Minato told him. Harry felt horrified. He hadn't realized – he had assumed the haze was from the blows he had taken, from his anger and desperation – but the fox?

"He did not escape, Hisui," Minato insisted, leaning down in order to look straight into Harry's eyes. "You used his power, through the curse seal, but the nine-tails did not come out."

"But – "

"You held him."

Harry sucked in a breath that was terribly shaky but he nodded. Minato's fingers on his arm tightened and then let go. Naruto finally let go of Harry's neck only to crawl into his lap and reattach himself to the front of his jacket, balling the material in his fists. Harry wrapped his arms around the toddler.

"We don't know a lot about how Orochimaru's curse seal works," Minato began, settling against the desk close enough that his elbow brushed against Harry's shoulder. "It appears to gather a foreign chakra at the expense of the user's own, forcing a sort of transformation at the same time, though if the changes were meant to occur, or if they are a side-effect of the foreign chakra, we do not yet know."

Harry sat in silence, his head bowed over Naruto's, taking in the toddler's scent and heat for comfort as Minato spoke.

"As far as I can determine," Minato continued, "The nine-tails utilized the pathways of the juinjutsu in order to push some of its power outside of Hisui's hold. Or, because Hisui inadvertently activated the juinjutsu, because the fox had – eaten – the curse seal, the foreign chakra gathered was that of the fox's instead of whatever chakra the juinjutsu would otherwise have gathered."

Minato rocked to the side, pressing his body into Harry's shoulder. Harry glanced up at him through the fringe of his bangs, catching sight of his kind expression. "What do you think, Hisui?"

"I'm not sure," Harry said after a minute in silence. "I – I didn't feel like the fox was in control, but –" Harry frowned, trying to sort out his memories of the night that Naruto had been kidnapped. It was over half a year ago now, and Harry's memories of the night had been hazy from the start anyways.

"I don't remember thinking –" Harry stopped, realizing how odd that sounded, even though it made sense in his head. He hadn't really thought out his actions. He had made no plans or considered tactics. He had just chased them all down and reacted.

"The snakes were swallowed by the fox," Harry started over. "And are deep in the well with all the water now, and I can't ever hear them hissing any more, but the nine-tails hisses at me often enough. When they took Naruto, the waters came up out of the well, little rivers like serpents, and one struck me here," he pressed a hand over the spot that Orochimaru's curse mark resided behind his shoulder. "And then the sky was all red and I wasn't thinking anymore, just running."

Minato's good hand came up to rest heavily atop his head and Harry leaned into the man, ridiculously happy for the support, both physically and emotionally.

"An emotional trigger?" Tsunade asked. "Or a response to a desperate bid for power? That kind of weakness is just what Orochimaru would look for, would cultivate." She gave Harry something of a scolding look. "You'd play right into his hands, drawing on power that isn't your own –"

"Enough!" Minato snapped. Harry heard the woman's jaw snap shut at the quick, icy tone. Harry watched the two from behind the thin curtain of his bangs. Tsunade was staring at the blonde, her face a myriad of emotions too complex for Harry to decipher. She had her arms crossed over her chest and didn't seem to be pleased. In contrast, Harry could blatantly tell that Minato was angry. His eyes were lit like iced water and even though his slouch against the desk put his head lower than the woman standing over him, Minato still managed to stare her down.

The two clashed glares for a while with Harry tense and still under Minato's arm. Despite the comforting and familiar heat radiating from the toddler in his arms, Harry could feel the icy chill that wafted off Minato, as if the man had turned himself into a glacier and was blowing out arctic winds into the room. Finally, Tsunade let out a sound from the corner of her mouth and looked away.

"Can you remove the juinjutsu?" Tsunade asked into the silence, still not looking at them. Instead she was staring idly out of the windows to the village laid out below.

"Perhaps," the blonde said slowly, his fingers curling into Harry's scalp. "The curse seal is sunk deep, and we know that its application is extremely dangerous, killing more of its victims than not. Jiraiya and I figure that its removal would likely be even more dangerous, with an equal or greater threat of death and in the least, would cause a great deal of pain. We do not know what its removal could cost."

Minato pulled Harry closer to his body, effectively hugging both of them to his side. "We have been very hesitant to remove it without more information, and now, with the nine-tails seeming to have tied itself around it -"

Tsunade was silent for a long time and then said hesitantly, as if wary of speaking the words, "it may pose too great a risk not to, with the fox."

Minato did not refute the statement and Harry curled tighter into the man's side, holding Naruto close to his chest like a teddy bear to the point that the boy's blonde hair tickled at his nose. As much as he disliked the curse seal Orochimaru had left on him, marking him, Harry feared its removal more, especially now. It had been so painful on receiving it, that Harry never had any doubts that its removal would not be equally painful.

He no longer even knew where the snake in his head was anymore, swallowed as it was. He feared the fox would come out with the snake and that he wouldn't be able to hold one back while the other got taken away and then the fox would be lose again and Kushina was no longer there to help him put the fox away again.

"I will contact Jiraiya," Minato said quietly, then, "I know you can hold him, Hisui."

Harry wasn't sure if he believed the blonde's words. Sometimes, when Minato said them, it sounded as if he were trying to will it to be so.

o-

Harry spent most of his tenth birthday on his hands and knees pulling weeds out of old man Mori's garden. Beside him, in a mirroring position, was Itachi, the younger boy silent as he used a kunai to cut through a particularly stubborn fibrous weed. Hana, a ways off to their left, had both her hands dug into the dirt around a scraggly little shrub while one of her puppies had hold of a stem and was tugging at it in a distinctly unhelpful manner. Another lounged at her knee half asleep and the third was behind her, happily digging a hole into the garden dirt. Somewhere on Mori's roof above them, lounged Hizashi in the shade of the large tree that shadowed half the house and garden.

They'd taken a number of D-rank missions over the past couple weeks, none of them any more exciting than another. While Itachi silently soldiered through the chores and Hana's grumbling only increased with each one, Harry was beginning to feel quite bored of them all and was almost ready to join the girl in her grouching. Pulling weeds was no more fun than cleaning up after storm damage, and they'd taken missions to collect firewood, paint fences, gather herbs for an old lady who ran an herbal shop, swept the market streets free of debris and trash and even hunted down a runaway cat.

The D-rank missions made Hizashi's training interesting and the once a week training games were the highlight of the genins' weeks by far.

Faced with a stubborn weed with deep roots, Harry rolled up his jacket's sleeves and got a good grip on the plant. His force nearly toppled him backwards when the weed's roots came free of the soil, and Harry's arms cartwheeled against gravity. He glowered at the weed and tossed it into their growing pile at the edge of the garden. Harry was just about to grab the next when Itachi's hand snaked out and gripped his wrist.

Startled at the sudden touch, Harry stared at the younger boy, whose eyes were riveted to his arm. Harry followed the other's gaze and realized that the boy was inspecting the fresh new seal that was scrawled across the inside of his right wrist. It was no longer tender and the surrounding skin had faded from raw red to his normal pale tone. The brilliant jade color of the ink stood out brightly against his skin, a nearly perfect match to the color of his eyes.

"A seal?" Itachi asked, studying the seal with rather intense eyes.

"My Fuin Bunshin," Harry told him, letting the boy twist his wrist around to an awkward angle. "So I don't have to use the tags."

Itachi was silent for a long minute and then released Harry's arm. "I have not seen a seal like that before, nor known them to be inked on the skin."

"It's an Uzushio thing," Harry said, surprised by the Uchiha's admission of ignorance. Itachi had an inordinate amount of knowledge in his head about Konoha's history and clans. Harry had thought he would know something of Konoha's once ally, Uzushio and their prominent Uzumaki clan. Maybe not.

Itachi nodded as if that explained it all, and turned back to the weeds without another word or glance. Harry watched the younger boy's bent head for a while, idly noting how Itachi's brown-black hair was tied in a low ponytail that left his bangs free to frame his face and shade his eyes.

"Has your father given you another fire technique?" Harry finally asked, also returning most of his attention to the weeds.

Itachi was silent long enough that Harry figured the Uchiha wouldn't be responding, but then the boy gave an affirmative and explained the basics of his new fire ninjutsu that let him spit out many little balls of fire that he could manipulate into a rapid-fire attack.

Harry and Itachi passed the rest of the tedious mission with talk of ninjutsu and tactics, which drew Hana in as well, though she seemed less capable of splitting her attention between the conversation and the weeds and the boys ended up doing more of the work while her puppies dug random holes and covered them all in dirt.

o-

Harry eyed the chunin's face, something about it being very familiar to him, but the twisted angry expression made it difficult for Harry to place him.

o-

**Author's Commentary:** OK! That got long...

Harry's Team Four went through a few different variations in my head before it settled into this configuration. It was always going to be Itachi, and it was always going to be Four (a rather unlucky number), but the girl flip-flopped between Lin and Hana (and there was a brief moment early on where Lin was an Aburame) but I decided to stick with all canon characters for Team Four. The instructor changed half a dozen times as well before coming back to Hizashi. Tsume was considered for a moment, but was discarded because she was only a special jonin, but it sure would have been amusing as all hell to stick Itachi with her... I suppose Hana will do to satisfy my amusement.

Also, random aside, amongst the mentioned four passing Genin teams from Harry's class, there are actually only three original characters, and one of them is a jonin instructor. You'll be seeing the lot of them pop in and out with them being Harry's peers and all, so here's another data book entry:

**DATA BOOK ENTRY:** for fun. Enjoy.

**Name:** Ky Li Lin

**Rank/Ninja Registration #/Age: **Genin/012087/10 yrs

**Height/Weight: **139cm (4ft 7in)/38kg (84lbs)

**Dream:** To be the best & first Kunoichi in her family.

**Quote:** "He's a centipede! Isn't he beautiful?"

**Ninja Skills:** Ninjutsu: 1, Taijutsu: 2, Genjutsu: 1, Intelligence: 2, Strength: 2.5, Speed: 1, Stamina: 3, Handseals: 2, Total: 14.5

**Team:** Team Five: Hiai Tejina (OC), Minoji, Shibire, Ky Li Lin (OC)

**From the Crystal Ball:** Snape!

Harry, who had been sparring with the Uchiha Clan's greatest prodigy in ocular illusions for years, noticed the mental intrusion immediately. He responded like he had learned to do with Itachi: in kind.

Harry was generally rubbish at casting genjutsu except at the most basic of levels. He was, however, quite adept at noticing them - or at least that something was off. He was also not very good at breaking complicated genjutsu with any speed or grace and on some occasions, not at all. What he could do, though, especially with ocular illusions, was draw the caster into his own head - which was so often exactly where they were trying to go - and turning his mindscape against them.

He had done it to Itachi plenty and even had caught Shisui twice before the two Uchihas had retreated from the challenge to no doubt find some other, super crafty way.

Harry did it again with this Professor Snape, meeting the man's dark eyes boldly, squarely and calmly.

Snape had nothing on the general creepiness of Orochimaru (despite their eerily similar dispositions), or the full intimidation level of a Konoha jonin's killing intent; jonin like Hizashi, Fugaku and the Fourth Hokage when faced with a threat to his family and village.

Snape's attempts to intimidate dimmed to a very small candle in comparison to the flaming, fiery fury of the Nine-tailed Demon Fox.

Snape did have a remarkably powerful presence for someone who otherwise seemed like a civilian. For a civilian magic user, Snape's delving into ocular techniques was probably the most interesting and useful skill Harry had yet seen in his short time. And the man was just intriguing anyways, once he got past the dungeon-creepy-crawliness of him.

Lin, of course, would probably _love_ the man.

Despite Harry's confidence and experience though, there was very little that could have prepared him for the force of Snape's intrusion into his mind.


End file.
