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chojiakimichi · 3 years

Text

Take Me Back To The Start

Pairing: Nara Shikamaru x OC

Summary: Uchiha Madara was dead; a man who had always made it seem like the only reason he was still alive was because the Grim Reaper was too scared to take his soul was dead. And Uchiha Toshiko, was back to bury him. She wasn't back to remember or stroll down memory lane with the boy who broke her heart, she was there to say goodbye to the man who raised her. But if she just so happened to find herself once more walking familiar paths while doing just that, well then, Toshiko supposed it just couldn't be helped.

Chapter: One — Six Feet Under

Word Count: 12.5+

Warnings: None; Angst, Modern AU

Notes: Find on ao3

Uchiha Madara was dead; the man who'd survived over just over century on nothing but spite, determination and soba noodles was dead.

He'd never wake up and huff at the sun for shining in his eyes again. Never again would Uchiha Madara hobble into the kitchen of his ancestral home and huff at whatever eldritch horror his eldest grand-nephew Obito had accidently made for breakfast that morning nor would he ever again sit on the back porch, smoking his pipe whilst glaring at any local children that rode their bikes far too close to his lawn.

Because he was dead and in three days time he'd be cremated and his ashes would be scattered into Naka river like every other passed Uchiha leaving nothing of him behind but the memories he'd help create and the decrepit sandals he had refused to replace for the past— who could even remember how many —years.

Toshiko, the youngest of Uchiha Madara's grand nieces' and nephews' rested her head against the cool glass of the trains window as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

Death wasn't a stranger to Toshiko; how could it be, she and her older brothers— Sasuke and Itachi —had all watched their parents die in a car crash as children. And yet despite the fact that Death wasn't a stranger and despite the fact she had lost her parents already and should know what it was like to lose someone— to loose a parental figure; Madara had almost been like another father to her, after all he had been the one to take her and her brothers in after their parents deaths —Uchiha Toshiko still felt her eyes mist over and her heart twist in her chest.

Because her grand uncle was dead. Because she'd never get to see the perpetually grouchy, practically ancient old man she loved like a second father ever again. Because she missed him and that feeling would never go away.

Toshiko's dog, a young, fluffy white Chow Chow she'd named Masshu— short for Masshupoteto —after being gifted him, stirred at her feet, his head popping up from atop his paws as he turned to look up at her.

Sometimes when when Toshiko looked into Masshu's eyes she'd swear she could hear nothing but Wii music going on behind them; she thought that her supposed guard dog's head was filled with nothing but the thought of chasing squirrels and the promise of future treats. This time though, as her wet eyes flickered from the thick tree-line the train was speeding past to Masshu, Toshiko could have sworn she could see concern in the canines whiskey eyes; almost as if he knew she was upset.

Toshiko flashed the Chow Chow a wobbly smile; it was the kind of smile that the more it screeched across her face the more it turned downwards. Her heels squeezed at the large dogs sides in acknowledgment— Masshu set his head back down on his paws —as she turned back to the window; Toshiko's eyes dragged across the blurred scenery.

Her stop was getting close.

The twenty-six year old female sucked in a deep breath before she grabbed her phone from her smoky colored coat pocket and untangled the headphones she'd wrapped around the device before her impromptu nap earlier during the train ride.

Toshiko punched in her phones code with the pad of her thumb. Her password was just the numbers that correlated to the first four letters of her name; eight-six-seven-four. Her brother Sasuke liked to make fun of her for it, saying how if someone wanted to seal any information from her phone they could; that it'd be easier then taking candy from a baby and while he was right, no matter how many times the older man harped about it to her, Toshiko kept her passcode the same.

Toshiko opened her Spotify app and shuffled her liked songs. Train's Drops of Jupiter was already playing by the time she put in her right earbud. Toshiko's head tilted up at the sound of the songs first few cords, her head once more resting against the windows cool glass.

Now that she's back in the atmosphere, with drops of Jupiter in her hair.

Toshiko kept her password the same not only because it was easy to remember but mostly because— as Sasuke had gone into the private sector after having dropped out of college —he'd undoubtedly still go on about security and safety even if she ever did change it, but also partly because if she just did whatever Sasuke said, when he said it he'd always expect her to and she refused to have that.

Little sisters, after all, were supposed to be difficult.

She acts like summer and walks like rain, reminds me that there's a time to change, hey.

When was the last time Toshiko and her grand uncle had talked?

When she had been in university the year before they had talked two-three times a week. Sometimes they'd only chat for a few minutes; just checking in with one another, while other times Toshiko and Madara would talk for hours. He'd gripe about whatever new annoyance plagued him for an hour or so before she'd go on about how stupid people in her classes could be and their idiotic options on social policies and how they were so wrong it was almost maddening.

But lately, ever since she had started her job at the Fukuoka prosecutors office Toshiko's life had began to revolve around work. The only time she ever seemed to go back to her tiny apartment was when she needed to feed and walk Masshu and even then, as of late, Toshiko had begun to hire the boy who lived on the floor below her to walk the Chow Chow.

So when was the last time Toshiko and Madara had spoken?

Since the return of her stay on the moon. She listens like spring and she talks like June, hey.

It hadn't been the day before he'd died. Hadn't been that week either. Two weeks? Toshiko racked her brain to remember only to come up with the last time they had spoken being sixteen days before he'd died; twenty three days ago in total.

Nearly a month.

At the time of their call Toshiko had told her grand uncle about a case she'd won while sitting first chair— it'd been a negligent homicide case; not only her first homicide case of any kind but the first case she'd sat first chair for —and though he hadn't said it in so many words, Madara had sounded so proud of her. Toshiko could remember the light feeling that'd carried her through the next two days following that call.

"Konoha station coming up next," the conductors voice rang out; snapping Toshiko out of her thoughts.

Toshiko pocketed her phone and grabbed the bookbag she'd stuffed full of clothes the night before in one hand and the loop of Masshu's leash as she stood from her seat, nudging Masshu out from under her and towards the trains doors, pausing at them as she looked around her mostly empty train car to see if anyone else would be getting off with her.

No one moved from their seats; three of seven people left in the car were asleep and the four that weren't were all too engrossed in whatever they were watching on their phones or reading from the books propped up in their laps to be getting off with her, leaving Toshiko's dark eyes to move from the sea of mostly empty seats to the window closest to her.

The train was slowing down.

Toshiko wrapped the length of Masshu's leash once around the palm of her hand, and then twice. While she didn't expect Masshu to bolt when the doors opened up— Masshu had been incredibly well trained; the whole point of Sasuke having bought Masshu for her was for him to act as her guard dog once she'd moved off campus and into her own apartment —it just was easier to hustle him off the train quickly on a tighter leash.

The song changed from Trains Drops of Jupiter to One Directions new song Drag Me Down, something that while Toshiko wasn't quite in the mood to listen to she didn't bother to skip as she still liked it.

"Approaching Konoha station now. Please remember to take all your belongings with you when you exit the train car," the conductors voice said as the train began to lull to a stop.

Toshiko could see the colorful benches that littered the Konoha train station; several of the benches had foxes painted on them. As the train continued to stop Toshiko's car passed the stairs that lead from the platform to the road and the tiny station building that sold snacks for people to eat on the train and tiny Konoha-centered knick-knacks to tourists who had wandered into the small building in search of directions.

"This is Konoha station," the conductor sounded, as the train came to a full stop. "This is Konoha station, the next and last stop will be Aomori. Please remember to take all your belongings before you exit the train. Thank you for riding Thunder Rails."

Toshiko shuffled closer to Masshu; the fingers not curled around Masshu's leash tightened as they gripped the strap of her bag. Her heel clicked against the floor once before the doors opened up with the same kind of sound Tupperware's made when being unsealed. Then as if she were in a race and the gun signaling the start had sounded, Toshiko shot off the train and into the platform, Masshu trotting behind her, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth.

Half way up the platform Toshiko felt her phone buzz; the young woman paused to pull it from her coat and saw it was a message from her brother Itachi.

Parking lot. First row.

Toshiko felt her lips press together, she could have sworn Sasuke was the one who was supposed to pick her up, not Itachi.

Not bothering to respond— not because she minded that it was Itachi picking her up and not Sasuke but because she'd see her eldest brother in less then a few minutes anyway —Toshiko paused her music before shoving both her phone and the headphones attached to it back into her pocket. She tugged at Masshu's leash, signaling that once more they were on the move. Something Masshu instantly complied with.

Toshiko and Masshu both scampered up the concrete steps that lead to the main road and the orange station building, that had been built the same time as the railway only to turn left and walk down the hill that lead to the dead end that was the Konoha train stations parking lot. There were three cars in the parking lot; Itachi's, like he said was in the first row.

Though even if it hadn't been, and even if there were more cars littering the lot, Toshiko would have easily found her brother as he was leaning against the front end of his car.

Like Toshiko he was dressed in black. His long hair was tied back into it's usual low hanging pony tail, his wiry glasses were perched at the end of his nose and though his smile didn't reach his eyes the tension in his shoulders disappeared at the sight of Toshiko, who, at the sight of her eldest brother, felt the tears she'd been holding back on the train quell up in her eyes once more.

Their grand uncle— their ōoji-san —was dead; Uchiha Madara was dead. The only parent Toshiko had known for the past twenty years was dead.

Was gone.

She loosened her hold on Masshu's leash.

"Nii-san," Toshiko croaked, her tears falling. One then two; Toshiko caught her bottom lip between her teeth only for it to trembled violently. She hadn't really cried when Obito had called her the week before and told her of their grand uncles passing; sure tears had automatically fallen at the new but it hadn't been real then.

Uchiha Madara being dead were just words; they hadn't been true, couldn't be. He had always seemed too stubborn to die, seemingly immortal; Uchiha Madara had been a hundred and two when he had died. At the time hearing that he had died had almost been like hearing pigs had learned to fly; absurd.

But then the closer she'd gotten to Konoha on the train the more the truth had began to set in until she'd been forced to acknowledge it. To swallow it; Uchiha Madara being dead wasn't just words, they were Toshiko and the others new reality.

Come three days time she and her brothers and her cousins would be cremating their grand uncle.

Itachi pushed off the square front of his car and Toshiko met the older Uchiha half way, her arms outstretched. Toshiko heard Itachi let out a soft sounding oomph when she barreled into his bony chest. Toshiko clung to Itachi the same way she had when their parents had died and Sasuke had been hospitalized following the car crash; like he was her last and only life line tethering her to the Earth.

Toshiko's shoulders shook as she cried into her eldest brothers chest; Masshu's nose pressed against the back of her thigh as one of Itachi's hand's moved from her upper arms so that it was splayed out between her shoulder blades while the other was curled around the back of her head, cradling her against him.

"It's alright Toshiko," Itachi said, his own voice raspy, the same way it would be if he were on the verge of tears; and perhaps he was.

Itachi— and Shisui —hadn't been close to Madara, not the way Toshiko and Sasuke and Obito had all been, not because of any family drama or clash of ideologies, but because unlike them, neither Itachi or Shisui had been raised by Madara.

Shisui had grown up in Tokyo with his mother following his fathers death, only ever visiting Konoha during the summer while Itachi— who'd been born a genius —had gotten out of living in Konoha year round following their parents deaths due to the fact that at thirteen— right before the deaths of Toshiko, Itachi and Sasuke's parents —Itachi had been accepted to university. Meaning that he only ever came to town during Christmas break and summer holidays with Shisui, when neither of them had classes.

But just because he hadn't been close to the their grand uncle didn't mean he didn't care. Itachi had always had the biggest heart out of everyone Toshiko knew, always caring about every little thing.

Toshiko felt herself nod and though she tried to collect herself and force the tears to stop it wasn't until several minutes later that Toshiko, puffy faced and red-eyed pulled away.

"I'm sorry," Toshiko said with a forced smile, as she wiped her face with the cuff of her sleeve, "I didn't mean to cry on you."

"You've done worse. Incase you forgot I used to help mom change your diapers," Itachi said with a smile; like Toshiko's it was obviously forced. Though unlike hers it looked far more natural, anyone who didn't know the tall thirty-four year old wouldn't suspect a thing.

Toshiko let out a breath, one that could've doubled as a quiet laugh, and stepped away from her brother. Masshu rubbed up against the outer part of her leg. "You are so gross Itachi."

"What?" He blinked innocently, the slight, sudden upturn of his lips was far more genuine then it had been a moment before, "It's true."

His left hand raised— Toshiko didn't bother to try to dodge; she'd long ago learned the effort was fruitless —and just like he'd always done to her and Sasuke when they'd all been growing up, Itachi poked her in the dead center of her forehead.

Toshiko's nose wrinkled at the touch.

"Whatever nii-san," Toshiko said; her chest was still heavy and her eyes were still wet but Toshiko nonetheless rolled her eyes at her brother. "Anyway," she said, motioning to Masshu, who'd taken a seated position next to Toshiko, "This is the dog Sasuke got me when I moved a few months ago, 'Tachi, meet Masshu. Masshu," Toshiko motioned to Itachi, "Meet my brother, Itachi. Be nice."

Itachi crouched down and held his hand out; Masshu didn't hesitate to put his paw in the palm of Itachi's hand. Itachi shook it the same way he would a persons.

"Nice to meet you Masshu." Masshu's large head rolled to the side before Itachi dropped his paw and straightened up; he looked to Toshiko, "I have my luggage in the back seats, will he be alright in the trunk?"

"Yeah," Toshiko nodded, only to frown. Just like she could have sworn it was supposed to be Sasuke picking her up she could have sworn that Itachi had been meant to arrive in Konoha two days before then to help with the last minute funeral preparations. "You haven't gone to the house yet?"

Itachi shook his head, "I only got back to the country early this morning, I got delayed at the conference and missed my original flight in."

"Oh," Toshiko said. "I'm sure Sasu loved that," she added sarcastically.

It wasn't that Sasuke hated Itachi— Toshiko wasn't sure Sasuke could ever —it was just that the middle Uchiha sibling still carried around the childhood anger and resentment he had towards Itachi, something that Toshiko— though she wished Sasuke would let go of now that they were adults —understood.

Toshiko got why Sasuke resented Itachi. He— Sasuke —had been, for the first few months following the crash that had killed their parents in a coma due to the head trauma he had sustained when their father had lost control of the family car and gone into the river. And when he had woken up their parents had already been buried, their house— the only home Sasuke had ever known —had been packed away and Itachi had been practically out the door and on his way to university, leaving them behind with Madara and Obito two family memeber who— neither Sasuke nor Toshiko had know well —at the time were virtually strangers.

"I know," Itachi nodded as he lead her and Masshu to the back of his dark red Toyota Roomy. "It's why I'm picking you up though and he's not. Sasuke got in last night and I was already on the road, I figured it'd be easier."

Itachi opened the trunk's door.

"Up," Toshiko said with a snap of her fingers and her hand in the trunk; effortlessly Masshu jumped up into the trucks back.

"That was sweet," Toshiko— as Itachi closed the trunk's door —said instead of the You know it won't stop him from giving you shit for not arriving when you said she wanted to say.

Itachi let out a hum as he moved towards the drivers side; Toshiko passed him as she moved to the other side of the car towards the passengers seat. Toshiko, before she got into the car, threw her bookbag over her seat and into the back next to Itachi's two large suitcases.

"Is that all you really brought?" Itachi asked with a raised brow and an amused glint in his eyes.

"Yeah?" Toshiko responded as she slid into the passenger seat; "I know I still have pajama's here, at least enough for the next few days and I accidently left a pair of sneakers here last time I visited Obito and Ōoji-san so I didn't bother to bring any other shoes but these," Toshiko explained, pointing downwards towards the black flats she was wearing, "So between no pajamas and no extra shoes, all my clothes fit into my bag."

"Alright," Itachi said as he began to pull out of the parking lot.

They hadn't even fully pulled out of the lot when Toshiko saw Masshu peaking over the top of Itachi back seats. She smiled at the dog only to quickly frown when Masshu rocked forward and placed his paws over the seats, his nails biting into the seats pleather.

Toshiko turned in her seat so that she could look back at her dog, her finger outstretched and wagging in Masshu's direction.

"No. Down," Toshiko ordered Masshu, "Sit normally. Sit." Obediently Masshu's paws dropped and hit the trunks carpeted flooring. "Good boy," she said in a high pitched baby-voice, "You're such a good boy."

Masshu, as if agreeing, let out a loud bark. Toshiko smiled at the white Chow Chow before turning back in her seat only to grimace when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror; her face was splotchy and red, and her eyes were the kind if pink you only ever got after crying, the kind that made her dark eyes seem darker then they really were.

Pointedly looking away from her reflection Toshiko peered out her window and at the familiar sights of Konoha that passed her and Itachi by.

Hokage Rock, the mountain range that ran along the north of the town— the one that if you squint hard enough looked like it had faces carved into it —still seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky; the same way it had seemed when she'd been a child.

Ichiraku Ramen, a tiny ramen restaurant that was situated between two larger buildings, looked exactly same as it always had. As she and Itachi passed by Toshiko even saw the familiar flash of blonde sitting along the Ramen shops counter.

Only to frown; because for every unchanged thing Toshiko saw the twenty-six year old found something that had changed or something new that had popped up since the last time she had stepped foot in Konoha and while she didn't hate the new changes she spotted outside the car window— like the pair of officers who stood idly outside the Konoha Bank, half-heartedly guarding it because they had been needed and without a doubt over due —Toshiko could still remember what had been there before.

She could remember what had once been in the same exact spot the new, nice looking restaurant Yakiniku Q stood. It'd been a Lighting Burger that'd burnt down one New Years Eve after a few of the local high school students had too much fun with the box of fire works they had managed to get their underage hands on.

Toshiko could remember how for days the smell of sulfur had lingered in the air; she could remember how the outside of the Konoha library— which she saw was a greyish sort of pink —had for years, been a bright ugly purple because someone had messed up when placing the order only for it to be kept that way because no one on the town counsel had wanted to figure out which funds to reallocate to repaint it properly.

Nostalgia— the leaden kind that made Toshiko's bones feel waterlogged —washed over her.

Was this growing up?

Was adulthood coming home— because while perhaps Toshiko had begun to build a life for herself in Fukuoka, the place her mind always flew to when thinking of the word home wasn't her one bedroom apartment or her tiny office at work but Konoha —to find out the places you had memory after memory of had been bulldozed while away?

Was adulthood just longing for a home that no longer existed?

Or was it something else? Was it supposed to be?

Shifting in her seat, looking away from her window and along the curve of her brothers face Toshiko couldn't help but think, Ōoji-san would know.

0.0.0.0

Toshiko's breath caught in her throat when Itachi pulled up to the curb outside Uchiha families home.

When she had been growing up Madara had always said that the house before Toshiko and Itachi was their families ancestral home, the one where— back before Konoha had been a village —the first Uchiha had been born centuries before and while the the dark colored, three story home looked old it didn't look quite as old as Madara claimed their family had been living in it.

Though that was without a doubt due to the fact that the home had been fixed up numerous times over the years. The roof had needed to be replaced after a terrible storm when Toshiko had been ten, the floors had been redone right before Toshiko had last visited as a pipe had burst; the pluming had been installed in the nineteenth century and by twenty-sixteen nearly all of it had been replaced at one point or another.

Toshiko got out of the car, and grabbed her backpack from where she'd tossed it, her eyes never once leaving the home as she slung the backpack over her shoulder.

Her home.

Ivy grew along the sides of it making the house look like it was one with the trees that surrounded it, the crows Madara had feed for years— since he had been a child —littered the roof, several of them cawing loudly whilst two circled the house overhead, looking for him.

Toshiko moved to the back of her brothers truck so that she could let Masshu out of the back only to pause mid-step when the front door opened.

She knew it was stupid— that her grand uncle was dead and waiting to be cremated —but for a second, as Shisui stepped out of the house she couldn't help but think of how much he had looked like a younger Uchiha Madara; the one Toshiko saw in the albums her grand uncle kept in his room.

"Hey you two finally made it!" Shisui called out with a wave.

Itachi, who'd gone to grab his suitcase turned at the voice his and Toshiko's cousin; Itachi shot Shisui a two finger sault only to beam when two small children— a little girl, no older then six, with pigtails that flapped behind her as she ran forward and a slightly younger boy who had a frog themed bandage over his right brow —both darted out of the house from behind Shisui's legs.

"Oji-san!" The two small children called out as they raced across the Uchiha family homes lawn, "Oba-san!"

Like her brother Toshiko smiled brightly at the sight of her cousins children; Hideko and Daiki.

Daiki, a four year boy who had inherited Shisui's pointed nose and dark rounded eyes but his mothers dark brown hair, ran head first into Itachi's legs while Hideko had skipped over to Toshiko; Toshiko— though she probably should have as Hideko had grown since the last time she'd seen the her —hadn't hesitated in scooping the young up.

Hideko let out a squeak as her hands gripped at the front of Toshiko's coat.

"I missed you Oji-san!" Toshiko heard Daiki cry into Itachi's knees as he wrapped his arms around Itachi's thin legs. Toshiko leaned her head back and looked at Hideko; from the corner of her vision Toshiko saw Shisui move towards them, out from their ancestral homes doorway.

"You saw me last month Daiki," Toshiko half heard her brother telling Daiki as she gleefully gapped at the fact that Hideko's tongue was poking out from an angry looking gap in her teeth.

"Too long!" The boy said as Toshiko spoke, their voices overlapping.

"You lost a tooth!" Toshiko bounced. Itachi who— like Toshiko had done with Hideko —had gathered Daiki in his armed turned in surprise at Toshiko's excited tone, "When? How?"

"This morning!" Hideko said, "It was wiggly so papa and Obi-ji—" when Hideko had first started talking she had constantly tripped over Obito-oji and instead taken to calling him Obi-ji, "—Tied one end of a string to it and then the other to a door and then papa slammed it really hard!"

Toshiko's brows shot up, her eyes swiveled to Shisui who's cheeks had pinkened. "Mari seriously let you two do that?"

Mari, Shisui's wife, was as kind as she was no nonsense; something she had to be if she was going to be married to likes of someone as lively— as headstrong, stubborn, driven, and at times inept —as Shisui. Apparently Shisui had fallen in love with her the first time he'd seen her; he'd walked into the coffee shop she had been working at and she had been yelling at a man who'd crossed several lines when harassing her coworker.

Mari was also a dentist, having finished up medical school just before her and Shisui's wedding.

Shisui blew a breath of air out of his mouth; Hideko beamed at Toshiko, her tongue still peaking through the gap.

"Obi-ji said it was better to ask forgiveness then permission."

"Which is what we did," Shisui added pointedly in his daughters direction, he looked at Toshiko and then Itachi, "And why your mother is a saint."

"She'd have to be, to be married to you," Itachi jabbed playfully.

Just as Toshiko and Sasuke were close, Itachi and Shisui were close; though unlike Sasuke and Toshiko who grew close after their parents deaths Itachi and Shisui had always— for as long as Toshiko could remember —been close. Growing up, before Toshiko and Sasuke had come to live with Madara and Itachi had gone off to university, Toshiko, Itachi and Sasuke had all lived three blocks up from Shisui and his mother. Almost all of Toshiko's earliest memories had Shisui in them; he was practically her third bother.

Not that it was surprising; from what Toshiko could remember from her fathers stories— because she had never met Shisui's father herself as the man had died of colon cancer shortly after Shisui's birth —both her father and Shisui's father had both been a lot like Itachi and Shisui, practically joined at the hip having had grown up together in the same house, raised together like brothers.

"You are so lucky you're holding my kid Tachi," Shisui said good naturedly. Toshiko set Hideko down, though the girl took to clutching the gray fabric of her coat, set on following her around.

"Please I could still take you," Itachi fired back. Itachi was usually the cool one of the bunch; always quite and laid back. The only time he became lively was when he was around Shisui and the only time he ever got loud when when he and Sasuke's arguments turned into full on fights.

"Yeah and have Mari look out the window and see?" Shisui scoffed as Toshiko lead Hideko around to the trunk, "Do you want her to freak out and go into early labor? Cause that's what'll happen if she sees us fighting with Daiki in your arms."

"Puppy!" Hideko cried once Toshiko opened the trunk and Masshu jumped from it and onto the street, his leash hit the concrete and his tail wagged back and forth as he looked at Hideko, though he didn't move from where he stood.

"Puppy?" Daiki sounded, "Where?"

"Can I pet him, please, please, please?" Hideko asked, tugging at Toshiko's coat, her bottom lip stuck out into a pout and the grey eyes she'd gotten from her mother pleading.

"Sure," Toshiko said, "But gently." Toshiko kneeled next to Hideko only to turn when Daiki— who stopped next to the trucks tail light; his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape at the sight of Masshu —appeared behind her. "Dai, do you want to pet Masshu too?"

Daiki nodded and Toshiko beckoned the boy over until, like his sister, he was standing next to her.

"Masshu," Toshiko said sternly, "Sit." He did, she then put a hand out and held it up to Masshu's nose for him to smell. "I want you two to do this alright? Let him smell you first."

Both Hideko and Daiki did; Daiki giggled as Masshu's wet nose swept over his palm. Masshu was large for a Chow Chow, bigger then Daiki but still smaller then Hideko, not that that made him any less intimidating when he was snarling; the whole reason Chow Chows had somewhat of an iffy reputation was because— or so Sasuke had said when he'd given her Masshu —of the fact they were great guard dogs.

According to Toshiko's brother— and Goggle —Chow Chows had once been used to guard many great palaces back when Daimyō's and Shōgun's ruled the country.

"He's so cute!" Hideko cooed, gently petting Masshu as she took a step closer to him. Her brother followed in her wake, scratching behind the dogs ears while Hideko got under his chin.

Masshu's eyes closed, his tail thumped a steady beat against the street.

"This is dog our little Sasu got you for protection?" Shisui laughed; Toshiko, with her arms crossed over her chest and her brows raised looked at her cousin.

"What's wrong with my dog?"

"Nothing," Shisui said, "He just looks like a total marshmallow. Literally. You'd think if our little Sasu-kun was going to get you a guard dog he'd get you-I dunno, one what doesn't look like it'd roll over for a bugler."

Toshiko could have defended Masshu and pulled Hideko and Daiki away so that she could show off how well trained he was, instead though, she looked at her cousin and said, "I'll give you twenty yen if you call Sasu that to his face."

"And what? Have him break me in half?" Shisui asked rhetorically, "In case you forgot your big brother's a scary mercenary now."

Toshiko swung her head from side to side, "Sasu, Tachi, Masshu, everyone else. Is there anyone in this house who can't break you in half?"

"Oh so that's how it is Toad?" Shisui asked; Toshiko felt her shoulders drop at the childhood nickname. Where her brothers and Obito— and friends —had called her Toshi, Shisui had always— for as long as she could remember —called her Toad after the Nintendo character her mother had dressed her up as for her first Halloween.

Shisui had been Bowser, Itachi had been Luigi, Sasuke had been Mario and she, because the store had been out of infant sized Princess Peach costumes, had been Toad.

"I hate you," Toshiko said without any real heart and with a snort as his children giggled under the weight of Masshu's kisses, Shisui slung an arm around Toshiko's shoulders. He pressed a brotherly kiss— because Shisui was as much her brother as he was her cousin; always right there with Itachi when she needed them —to the side of her head.

"How you holding up?" He murmured.

"Fine," Toshiko shrugged, she peered around Shisui to see Itachi was nowhere to be found having disappeared into the house, "Totally balled when I got off the train. I just-it doesn't seem real you know?"

"Tell me about it, when Obi called I thought he was joking. I mean when I heard him tell me that ōoji-san was dead, I thought no way." He scoffed with the shake of his dead. Toshiko took in a deep breath at his words— Ōoji-san was dead; Uchiha Madara was dead —and Shisui just tucked her under his arm more firmly then she had been.

"Come on we should get inside," he said to her a moment later, "Everyone been waiting for you and Tachi to show up-Kakashi even made dorayaki just for you."

Toshiko smiled at the mention of her eldest cousins husband and his cooking; up until her and Sasuke had learned to cook for themselves the only reason she and her brother had eaten anything other then soba noodles had been because of Kakashi, as Obito couldn't cook to save his life and soba noodles seemed to be the only thing Uchiha Madara ever ate when left to his own devices.

Hatake Kakashi— not Uchiha, because while he and Obito considered each other husband and husband, and had held a wedding ceremony when Toshiko had been eight, they weren't legally married —was a great guy who Toshiko was happy her cousin had chosen to spend his life with.

Sure he was also a total loser who read badly written cheesy romance novels and liked to dress his dogs up in silly costumes for fun but he was a nice, kind-hearted loser who loved her cousin wholeheartedly.

"Alright," Toshiko murmured, "Masshu!" She said loudly, moving out from under her cousins arm. Masshu got to his paws, his attention no longer on Hideko or Daiki but solely on Toshiko, "Follow."

Masshu listened and moved so that he was next to Toshiko as she and Shisui began to walk towards the house; Hideko and Daiki rushed over to Masshu's side.

"Oba-san?" Daiki asked in his adorable high pitched voice, "Can onee-chan and I please play with Masshu in the backyard?"

"Sure," Toshiko said, Hideko and Daiki both cheered as he went to pick Masshu's leash that been trailing behind him up off the ground.

"Come on Masshu," Daiki tugged, pulling the dog towards the side of the house so that neither he, Hideko or Masshu would have to cut through the house to get to the backyard. Masshu looked to Toshiko— who nodded at the dog —before following after Daiki and Hideko, disappearing around the bend of the house and towards the backyard moments later.

"You know they're going to want a dog after this, right?" Toshiko joked.

"Then they can take it up with the landlord," Shisui rolled his eyes.

"How's work been?" Toshiko asked her cousin, he shrugged.

"Same as always." Shisui was a software engineer, "My boss is looking to promote, I might get it."

"That's great Shisui," Toshiko said brightly knocking her elbow against her cousins, again he shrugged.

"It's not definite as of yet, everything's up in the air at the moment but hey-fingers crossed am I right?"

"Please you've been at that company since you graduated university, you're going to get it," Toshiko said confidently.

"Thanks" Shisui replied, the palm of his hand swept through his already tousled hair as he stopped to let Toshiko up the stairs that lead into the Uchiha family house first. The two of them, once through the door and in the titled well took off their shoes at the door before stepping further into the house.

Toshiko paused after having stepped up onto the wooden landing. Her throat suddenly tight; Madara wouldn't be on the back porch smoking from his pipe while he watched the kids play with Masshu and the coy circle around and around the pond he'd along ago put in.

He wouldn't be shuffling around the house, muttering to himself about things that needed to get fixed up either, nor would he be in the living room reading the paper or even in the kitchen eating a bowl of soba noodles.

Because he was dead.

Suddenly Toshiko was six again and the house felt far too large; strange and uncharted. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest. Growing up Madara was what made the house a home, for a grouchy and unpleasant as he could be— as he had been most days —him no longer skulking through the halls was disbarring.

Was wrong.

"Toshi!"

"Obi!" Toshiko threw her arms out and open in front of her at the sight of her cousin. He hadn't changed much truth be told, except for a few small details— like the several gray strands that had seemed to have accumulated in his hair since the last time Toshiko had seen Obito, and the dark bags that had developed under his eyes —Obito still looked exactly the same since Toshiko had last seen him.

The same— at least for Obito —being covered in scars, one armed, slightly blind and somewhat deaf.

Uchiha Obito had been in a terrible rockslide when he'd been fourteen; he'd lost his left eye and was missing his right arm. The entire right half of his face had been terribly scarred from the rocks nearly caving in that side of his skull and though he could still somewhat hear out of his right ear at nearly fifty Obito had started wearing a bright green hearing aid.

Obito's left arm wrapped around Toshiko's waist while hers wrapped around his shoulders. Shisui with a clap to Obito back passed the two and walked down the long hall that lead to the kitchen.

"I'm glad you're here," Obito said lowly, before pulling away, his palm against her hip.

"Like I wouldn't come," Toshiko responded, squeezing his shoulder before once more pulling him into a tight death grip of a hug.

A moment later after they had untangled themselves from each other and Obito had ushered her towards the kitchen Toshiko was met with Kakashi, Mari, Shisui and her brothers all gathered around the kitchen island, all quietly talking to one another, the dorayaki Shisui had mentioned was laid out in a dish on the island.

Sasuke had positioned himself next to Kakashi furthest from Itachi; Mari, who's hands rested atop her swollen stomach was leaning against Shisui front as he had wrapped his arms around her from behind, his lips pressed firmly against her shoulder.

"Yo," Kakashi waved, smiling from under his mask. Toshiko could remember all the times she and Sasuke and their friends— all of Toshiko's friends had been older then her; Sasuke's age and usually in his homeroom class —had tried to catch Kakashi without his mask on.

When he and Obito had held their wedding ceremony Obito's Maid of Honor, his and Kakashi's friend Rin, had handed the married pair a wreath size bouquet in order to hide Kakashi's face during their first kiss.

"Kakashi," Toshiko waved back, her head jerking upwards. Sasuke smiled faintly at Toshiko as Mari had moved out from Shisui's hold and hobbled herself over to Toshiko who— as best she could —hugged the woman. Mari rocked Toshiko from side to side.

"You've grown!" Mari said, still rocking Toshiko from foot to foot. Though Mari and Shishu had only married several years ago Toshiko had known the woman since she and Shisui had first started dating, back when she'd been eleven and in despite need of a womanly figure in her life.

"No I haven't Mari," Toshiko said, "I'm pretty sure I stopped growing in the tenth grade. You on the other hand—" Toshiko leaned back and rested one of her hands on the side of Mari's swollen stomach. She looked up at the older woman through her lashes, "—Do we know if it's a boy or a girl yet?"

The last time she had called Mari and Shisui the fetus hadn't been turned in the right direction for the obstetrician to determine the gender; just that the baby was healthy, which at the end of the day was all that was important.

"We do actually," Mari said, she looked to Shisui who straightened under his wife's gaze. He nodded, "It's a boy."

"That's great," Toshiko said; Itachi clapped Shisui on the back as Kakashi raised his cup of whatever up into the air.

"We actually-I mean, I only seems right, we did only find out the day before," Mari sputtered, looking between Toshiko and her brothers and cousins, "As long as it's okay with the rest of you, of course."

"As long as what is?" Sasuke asked.

"We want to name the baby Madara, in honor of ōoji-san," Shisui said. Toshiko's head jerked back, Sasuke frowned and Obito blinked owlishly between Mari and Shisui.

"Why?" Sasuke asked, "You didn't even like ōoji-san."

"Sasuke," Itachi said in very reprimanding voice, one that made the muscles in the back of Toshiko's neck jump. It hadn't even been ten minutes; her throat tightened with the need to suddenly scream.

"What?" Sasuke sniped at Itachi, "It's true."

Toshiko saw Itachi's eyes narrow and the youngest of the five Uchiha stepped up to the kitchen island, one hand behind her and wrapped around Mari's wrist. Her blood hot; their grand uncle was dead— the man who had raised three out of the five of them —he hadn't even been buried yet and they were fighting.

"It's fine," Toshiko told Shisui, though her focus was on Sasuke; her voice air and fair lighter then normal, "I mean you remember when Daiki was born right?" She looked at Shisui, "Ōoji-san almost had an aneurism when he found out you didn't name him after your dad."

Madara had gone on and on about how reusing family names was important, how it showed respect towards their ancestors and how— apparently —young people seemed to have none of that anymore.

"Yeah," Obito nodded, his tongue flicking out over his lips, "Honestly if you didn't name the baby after him the old man would probably come back from the grave so he could throttle you."

Sasuke shifted his weight, his lips pressed down into a frown. The combative look in his eyes was gone and had instead been replaced by a dull burning light, "Like he wouldn't come back to throttle us for any other reason."

Toshiko couldn't help but snort at her brothers words; he was right.

If anyone would reanimate themselves from death just to complain and lecture their still-living family members because they couldn't wait another fifty years until said family memeber died and joined them in the afterlife, it would be their grand uncle.

Toshiko pushed off the island.

"I'm going to put my stuff away-Sasu?" She looked at her brother, "Want to come help me?" It wasn't so much as request as it was an order; Toshiko jerked her head towards the kitchen archway. Sasuke's shoulders fell and though Toshiko knew he could have, he didn't argue with her when she took another step back, signaling that she was going to head to her childhood bedroom.

"Coming," her brother said before following her out of the kitchen. Sasuke, didn't bother to say anything before he slide Toshiko's backpack down her arm and over his; silently the pair clomped the houses two narrow flights of stairs until they were standing outside of Toshiko's old bedroom.

Sasuke's bedroom had been across the hall from hers.

At first Madara had tried to keep Itachi and Sasuke close together and Toshiko on the floor below, with him and Obito only to give up and swap Itachi and Toshiko's rooms after three months of Toshiko to sneaking out bed every other night and worming her way into Sasuke's; back then Toshiko used to have terrible nightmare's about the crash and the only person who could ever seem to comfort after them her was Sasuke.

Growing up Sasuke had always been the brother she'd run to when scared or hurt; Itachi was who she went to when she needed advice about life. Shisui was who she had went to when she was in trouble and needed to get out of it— preferably without her grand uncle or brothers finding out —while Obito was the person Toshiko had always went to when she needed to be cheered up.

Toshiko threw open her bedroom door and stepped into the room; the paint on the walls had faded over the years, dulling the champagne pink color Toshiko— and her best friend; a boy she still carried around in the back of her heart, but never wanted to think about —had painted them in middle school. Dozens of photos she hadn't taken with her to university or her new apartment in Fukuako were still hanging up on the wall.

The stuffed dinosaur her father had gotten her when she'd been born— the one she'd long ago named Mamarou; Protector —was on her bed; for the two years following the crash and the move she'd carried the yellow Tyrannosaurus-Rex everywhere with her.

School, play dates, the doctors; it hadn't mattered where she was, for years Mamarou had been with her.

"You don't have to play peace keeper all the time you know," Sasuke said, sitting on Toshiko's bed. Her bag next to him. "Itachi and I are big boys now, we don't need our little sister stepping in every time we have a disagreement."

Disagreement her ass, Toshiko could remember the arguments Itachi and Sasuke used to have, the ones that would quickly turn into screaming matches if no one— if she hadn't —intervened; more then once those fight's had nearly caused the two to come to blows.

"Yeah and if I don't who will? Shisui? Obi?" Toshiko rolled her eyes as she opened her backpack. She shot her brother a look from the corner of her eyes as she began to take her clothes out of her bag, "Did you really have to start though?"

"Come on," Sasuke scoffed, his voice bitter, "I didn't start anything-Shisui was never close to ōoji-san, not like we were."

"Maybe not," Toshiko conceded, "But he was still Shisui's ōoji too and besides, it's not like the rest of us are having kids any time soon so really, where's the harm?"

Sasuke shrugged, "It's wrong, ōoji-he, he was ours. Even when he was here Shisui was never interested in getting to know him, all he and Itachi ever wanted to do was chase after Obito and Kakashi and study. Him naming his kid Madara, it'd be like naming it after dad. Our dad."

Toshiko pushed her bag and clothes to the side and sat next to Sasuke, her head resting against his upper arm.

"Want to say that again and hear how you sound? Our ōoji?" Sasuke let out an indignant huff, "Sasu, if ōoji-san was here you'd know what he'd say right?"

The hum Sasuke let out sounded like an irked growl; "Stop being a piece of shit and be nice to your brother and cousins. Uchiha's are supposed to stick together. He'd say how we're stronger together." United we stand and divided we fall; and all that.

"Exactly," Toshiko nodded.

Over the years since they'd come into his care Madara had told Toshiko— and the boys —about him and his brothers. About how in the beginning there'd been five of them; Uchiha's Akihiko, Keiji, Isao, Madara and Inzuna and how the oldest four of them had all fought like cats and dogs growing up for a myriad of different reasons and how the minute he had turned fifteen Madara had left Konoha and his brothers behind without so much as a second thought.

Madara had told them all about how he had taken off to travel the world— all about his travels —and how one by one his brothers had followed until the last to leave nearly thirty years later was the youngest brother of the bunch— Toshiko and Sasuke and Itachi's own grandfather —Inzuna.

Madara had said how he hadn't thought much of his brothers while he'd been traveling. That until he'd come back to Konoha at nearly fifty years old with expectations, Madara hadn't really allowed himself to think of his brothers and what had become of them, partially because he had been too angry to think of them— even years after having left Konoha —and partially because he had expected them to do fine so to him, there hadn't been a reason to think— worry —about them.

He'd expected them to all have large families, homes of their own that they'd built near enough to their ancestral land only to come back and find grave after grave; his father was dead, as were all of his brothers except for one.

His second eldest brother Kenji had died first, shortly after leaving Konoha. He'd taken a job as a fisher and gone overboard, drowning before his crewmates could pull him back aboard.

Next had been Akihiko who'd passed from some kind of illness; his widow and son— Obito's father —were still in town. That was how Madara had met them, at the foot of his eldest brothers grave. After Akihiko, Isao and his wife, a sister-in-law Madara hadn't even known he'd had, had both died in a house fire. At the time they'd left behind a young son— Shisui's father —who Madara's last living brother Inzuna had taken in.

Inzuna had been in his late thirties when Madara— who was nearly thirteen years older then him —had found him. He was no longer the same little boy who had once followed Madara around like some kind of lost duckling; he had buried his father by himself, survived the war and married the nurse who had swept him off his feet and save his life all in one breath. He'd had a son and a nephew he adored like his own.

He had changed; grown up, and to Inzuna growing up meant he no longer wanted anything to do with Madara.

Madara always said that if it weren't for the fact that he had moved back to Konoha after Inzuna had turned him away— back into their families ancestral home with Obito's grandmother and father —Madara would have never known his younger brother had died shortly after Shisui's birth.

Nor would had Toshiko's grand uncle ever gotten the letter Inzuna had written him; the one Fugaku— Toshiko's father —had given him upon her grandfathers death.

The only part of the story Madara had never told them what was in the letter; all he ever said about the letter his brother had left him was that it was a letter full of regrets, ones they— Toshiko and her brothers and cousins —had to be careful not to repeat.

"It almost doesn't feel real," Sasuke said a moment later so quietly Toshiko had nearly missed it. Like what he was saying was some kind of secrete, and perhaps to Sasuke— who always looked like he rather have his teeth pulled then actually talk about the emotions raging inside of him —it was. "I miss him."

"Yeah," she said thickly. "I do too."

0.0.0.0

Hours after arriving and settling in Toshiko was in her room; Masshu was curled up at her side, tired after having played with Daiki and Hideko. She was supposed to be sleeping— napping —before dinner but she couldn't, not when she had a hundred and one thoughts racing through her mind, weighing her down.

Masshu's head rested on her stomach, his golden eyes met Toshiko's dark ones and the human girl let out a heavy sounding sigh.

There was a box of pictures in her closet pushed all the way to back of the shelf Kakashi had put up year ago for her. They weren't of Madara or her brothers or cousins but rather of someone else Toshiko missed.

Someone who she shouldn't miss, who was no longer hers to miss.

Toshiko threaded her fingers through Masshu's white fur and scratched between her dogs shoulder blades as she willed herself to stay on the bed. She was already sad; already mourning one loss. She tried to tell herself that there was no room in her heart for another but Toshiko knew that was a lie.

There was always room in her heart for him; it was as if her heart had been made for him. Molded into his shape and left with the imprint of his fingers so that it would never forget him.

"I am such a loser," Toshiko said to Masshu. She knew if Sasuke or Shisui came in and found her thinking of the box they'd burn it. Say it was doing more harm then good collecting dust up there; that it had been years.

Ten years, to be exact. A decade.

Obito would say she needed to move on and not in the half hearted way she'd been doing since university but truly. Really.

Madara wouldn't though, he never had when the topic of dating— of her moving on —came up. He'd always given her a measured look and told her how he understood; Uchiha's felt differently then others. They felt more deeply, and while perhaps sometimes they kept their feelings bottled up that didn't mean those feelings weren't there.

Weren't consuming them.

Toshiko curled herself around Masshu and let herself feel; in two hours time she'd be at her grand uncles favorite restaurant trying to swallow her feelings with a side of soba noodles. At least until she was back inside her room and could cry into her pillow.

0.0.0.0

Yashuda was a izakaya style restaurant that had opened when Konoha had first been founded; Toshiko's grand uncle had been going to the restaurant since he'd been a child, back before they had ever even thought of buying the building next-door and expanded. Yashuda had been where Madara had taken Toshiko and her brothers and cousins to celebrate everything— birthday's, achievements, it hadn't mattered what the reason for celebration was for —so it had only made sense to have their first dinner back in town there.

The restaurant lights were low and the new song radio stations loved to over play— Here by Alessia Cara —was set low over the speakers in the background; the bar on the other side of the restaurant was littered with people in loose ties and ties and long skirts, all celebrating the end of the work week.

Toshiko had squeezed herself between Itachi and Hideko, who had, before they all left for the restaurant, had made sure to let everyone know that she wanted to sit next to her mother and Toshiko.

Shisui had Daiki on his lap as they waited for the entrees— their appetizers littered the table, some of the plates with nothing one them and others with pieces of edamame and shumai still left —and though their hands were out of sight Toshiko knew her eldest cousin and his husband's fingers were interlocked together under the table.

Sasuke was across from tell telling a story about how he and the rest of Taka— his team; Toshiko had met them once in passing when she'd been visiting Sasuke —had snuck into a country Sasuke refused to name and rescued the daughter of a Swiss diplomat. His lips had twisted upwards as he recounted how Jugo, the tall, orange haired man he worked along side had nearly shot himself in the foot when a large— nearly hare sized —rat had run over his foot.

"But did he scream?" Kakashi asked, his eyes alight with mischief as he leaned across Obito and towards Sasuke.

"You know it. Jugo can talk all the shi—" Mari coughed loudly in Sasuke's direction, her eyes flickered pointedly to Hideko, "—Uff, stuff," Sasuke covered, "He want's but when you get down to it he's a complete cry baby."

"Tall, bright hair, over emotional. Just your type, right?" Shisui snickered as Daiki scribbled on the placemat he'd been given when they'd all been seated.

Toshiko took a sip of her plum wine in favor of laughing. Obito, who like her, only liked sweet drinks, had ordered them the Awamori Umeshu, a plum wine, and truth be told Toshiko couldn't find herself disappointed in her cousins choice of drink.

Sasuke's face went pink, "Shut up."

"Ooh," Hideko sung, "Sasu-oji has a crush!"

"I do not," Sasuke said. He picked one half of the chopsticks he'd sat down when he'd finished picking at the appetizers and flipped it so that he was holding the end that picked up the food; Sasuke leaned across the table and bopped Hideko lightly in the nose, "Twerp."

Hideko's mouth dropped open indignantly. She moved to kneel on her seat— so that like Sasuke she could lean across the table —only for Mari to grab hold of Hideko's shoulder.

"But mama!" Hideko tried as she attempted to wiggle out from under her mothers hold only to pause when she caught sight of the sobering look Mari was shooting her. The young girl's eyes widened as she allowed her mother to push her back down into her seat.

When Mari turned to speak to Itachi Hideko leaned against the table and poked her tongue out at Sasuke who pretended not to see it in favor of answering Obito's question; whether or not this was the kidnapping that had made international news when it'd first happened.

"What do you think?" Sasuke replied.

"That's why I'm asking you!"

"Since when dose he tell us though," Shisui said with a smile, "Hell I bet if Sasuke here saved the world he wouldn't tell us whether it was him or not, just that he and his team went on a cool mission."

"They're jobs not missions," Sasuke rolled his eyes, "And I can't. I know you can't read and all but there are these things called non-disclosure agreements I have to sign every time I renew my contract."

"I can read thank you," Shisui snarked back, his usual easy-going smirk stretching across his face, "Besides what's a little fine between family?"

"Little?" Sasuke scoffed, "Try eleven million, fourteen thousand and five hundred yen."

Toshiko let out a squeak at the number, Itachi nearly choked on his drink— showing he'd been at least half listening to Sasuke and Shisui's conversation—while Kakashi let out a low sounding whistle and Shisui's head bobbed back.

"Jesus," he said, "Never mind, keep your secretes."

"Sweet, foods here." And like that the table of Uchiha's— and Kakashi —stopped talking and turned on command in the direction of their waitress and the other members of the Yashuda wait staff that had been roped into bringing them their food.

One by one the wait staff dropped plates of various cooked mountain vegetables, ika kara age and maguro tatuta age— deep fried squid with sweet chili sauce and flash fried tuna —samurai steak, chicken curry before they placed a large bowl of what had been Madara's favorite, the yakisoba combination platter in the middle of the table.

Once the wait staff had once again spirited off to the back of the restaurant and to the other tables and the patrons sitting at them, the eight Uchiha's and Hatake Kakashi paused; Obito raised his glass. The rest of them followed; Hideko raised her glass of juice along side her mothers and Toshikos'.

"I propose a toast," Obito said in an almost dignified sort of voice and familiar playful kind of smirk, that only meant one thing, "To Uchiha Madara. He was spiteful and rude and maybe he wasn't the kindest but once you peeled back his layers he was good. So, to ōoji-san, may he be happy where he is and may he rest pleasantly until the rest of kick the bucket and annoy him once more. Here!"

"Here here!" Toshiko and the others called before bringing the rims of their cups to their mouths and drinking.

"Time to dig in," Shisui grinned, setting Daiki back in his own chair next to him. "Itadakimasu."

Toshiko, after following her older cousins example and expressing thanks for her meal, reached for the cooked mountain vegetables and ika kara age, pausing over the samurai steak before she decided to grab herself a piece of that as well.

If Itachi liked it Sasuke would— like a petulant child —eat most of it so that Itachi wouldn't be able to while if if Kakashi decided that he he liked it, Obito would pile almost all of the steak up onto his own plate to save it so that Kakashi would be able to eat it at home, where no one would be gawking at him, trying to see what the rest of his face looked like.

"Obi-ji!" Hideko said with a frown, Toshiko, mid bite looked at the girl from the corner of her eyes and then to Obito who had the bowl of yakisoba noodles in hand, "You can't eat sōsofu's soba noodles! You know that's all he eats, if you eat that what will he eat when he comes back?"

Toshiko felt the bite of fuki and other mountain vegetables turn to ash in her mouth.

Obito's smile fell and Sasuke, who'd been chewing on his bite of curry grabbed his still somewhat full glass of sake and brought it up to his lips.

"Sweetheart," Mari said gently, "Hideko-chan, papa and I told you about Sōsofu-san."

"Yeah, you and papa said he went away," Hideko blinked, "But Obi-ji even said we'd see him later and sōsofu-san's going to be hungry when he comes back." Hideko's voice was filled with such innocence only a child— untouched by any true horrors the world beheld —could have.

Mari's face softened as it fell.

"No, sweetheart. Sōsofu-san isn't coming back." Hideko's brows creased as her face twisted in confusion.

It was the same look Sasuke had worn when he'd woken up in the hospital after the crash and Itachi had told him about their parents. Like he hadn't understood what the words coming out of Itachi's mouth— "Mom and dad are dead, Sasuke." —had meant.

"What do you mean he's not coming back, he couldn't have moved we were at his house before, so he has to come back."

"Hideko-chan," Itachi said gently, moving to the edge of his chair, "You know what death is right? When characters on television and in movies die, you know what the means, right?" Hideko nodded, the crease between her brows got deeper.

Her brother looked at his sister and then at their mother and father and the rest of their family, unlike Hideko who was viably connecting the dots in her head, he still looked lost.

"It means that they're gone," Hideko said softly. She shook her head, "But Sōsofu-san can't be dead though. He's not."

Toshiko blinked her eyes rapidly, she was in a restaurant. She was twenty-six— a fully grown adult woman with a job and an apartment and a dog all of her own —she couldn't break down crying next to her cousins daughter in public, no matter how sad she was.

She took another sip of her wine; the once sweet flavor suddenly bitter on her tongue.

Hideko's bottom lip trembled as her eyes glossed over.

"Hey Hideko-chan!" Shisui said in a falsetto tone, the smile that was on his face was obviously fake, "How about you and I go outside for some air okay?"

"Okay," Hideko croaked, her small voice cracking. Shisui didn't hesitate in picking her up once he'd wiggled out from between Daiki and Sasuke; when neither of them were could any longer been seen Toshiko set her chopsticks down on her plate, her eyes flickering to the others.

"I'm-I need to use the restroom, I'll be right back." Sasuke nodded and with that Toshiko— with her eyes turned downwards towards the floor in hopes no one would see the tears in them —all but hit the ground running which was why she wasn't all that surprised to have hit someone as she went to turn the corner that lead to the restaurants bathrooms.

Hand's grabbed at Toshiko's waist as she teetered backward, her right hand had shot out and fisted itself into the white button-down of whomever she'd nearly run down.

"Sorry about—" Toshiko cut herself off with a blink. Her mouth had dropped open slightly at the sight of the man before her; her breath caught in her throat. Her heart both stopped and sped up. The tears that had been welling up in her eyes only second before were no longer anywhere to be found.

"Shika?" She breathed out, though she still seemed unable to take a breath. Not that she was really focused on breathing, but rather the man in front of her, "Maru?" she added on choppily after another blink; he really was there in front of her.

She swallowed the leaden lump that had appeared with Nara Shikamaru's arrival.

"Shikamaru-san," she said again, this time all together and with a slight tremor.

"Toshi," he said in the same kind of shaky, breathy voice she'd used; he didn't however, add on the rest of her name or any honorific but instead smiled at her. Warmly and brightly in a way that made Toshiko feel like she had been both submerged into an ice bath and thrown onto hot coals; like she was cold and burning at the same time.

"I didn't realize you were back," Shikamaru said, his smile dimmed and he looked sorry. Not the pitiful kind of sorry most people wore after someone's death— like they were sorry for you —but rather, Shikamaru's smiled dimmed and the sorry look that overtook his face was the kind that read apologetic; like if he could somehow fit it— bring Uchiha Madara back to life —he would.

"I mean," he corrected, "I heard about your ōoji-everyone has. I'm sorry for your loss. Madara, he was a good guy. I just, didn't realize you back already." The point of his tongue darted out and swept along his bottom lip.

"Yeah," Toshiko said, "I got in this morning."

"You drove?" Shikamaru's brows darted up in astonishment. Toshiko snorted at the question, and for a moment her nerves melted away.

"Are you kidding me? I took the train in." While she was fine in the passenger seats of cars— sort of; that was more a recent development that had only just happened and only with people she trusted —just the thought of even driving one made the twenty-six year old break out into an anxious sweat.

"That makes sense," Shikamaru nodded, his shoulders dropped and he sucked in a deep breath of air; something Toshiko felt she might have forgotten how to do. "How have you been though? Besides your ōoji, I mean."

He cares, a tiny voice in the back of Toshiko's mind crowed happily. Snuffing that voice out Toshiko shrugged, only to be reminded that not only was her hand was still wrapped up in the front of Shikamaru's shirt, twisted around the forest green tie he had loosed around his neck but his were still planted on her waist.

With a burning face Toshiko dropped her hand and took two half-steps backwards; Shikamaru twitched where he stood.

"Fine," she said. "You?"

"Good," he replied, his shoulders once more tense. His hands shoved deep into his pockets. "I work in the mayors office now," he said with a proud half-smile.

"That's great," Toshiko congratulated, "Really."

"And you?" Shikamaru wondered, "You graduated last year, right?"

Ten months ago but really, who was counting? Toshiko nodded, "Yeah, I got a job in Fukuoka at the prosecutors office about six months ago. I just sat second chair to my first homicide trial last month."

"That's great!" Shikamaru said, his hands moved from his pockets to her arms only to pause, hovering over them like he wasn't quite sure if he should go in for the hug he'd about to give. A metal band on his right hand gleamed under the restaurants lights.

Toshiko's heart dropped into the pit of her twisting stomach.

"You're married," she gasped, unable to tear her eyes away from the silver band on his finger. Shikamaru's fingers curled inwards and he moved his hand so that it was resting against his chest. Toshiko finally looked away from the ring and to him; to his burning face.

"I-no," he shook his head, "Sure I have a ring but me? Married?" He let out a wheeze Toshiko supposed was meant to me an airy laugh; she hadn't ever heard him make that sound before. "I'm not," he said, his voice firm as he slipped the ring off his ring finger and between his thumb and index ones. "It's complicated. Long story, really, sort of troublesome to explain, you know?"

No. Toshiko wanted to say; because how could she know any sort of story in conation to marriage when she had only ever loved one man before. The man before her. It felt as if ice had been poured down shirt and was sliding down her back. No I don't.

"Yeah," she said instead.

"I could though," Shikamaru said in a half rushed but overall breathless sort of voice; it was the sort of voice Toshiko rarely heard growing up, the kind Shikamaru used when his plans fell apart and he was winging it. "Explain it, over lunch or something. Maybe? How long are you back for?"

If Toshiko hadn't known better— hadn't remembered the last ten years —she would have thought Shikamaru sounded nervous when he asked to explain his long ring-centered story.

"Not long," Toshiko said, "Just until after the funeral. I leave the day after that." So four days in total.

Toshiko tried not to think about the twitch in Shikamaru's shoulder or the way his knuckles had gone white and just how off kilter the man in front of her looked as he nodded but rather— as Shikamaru grimaced —Toshiko focused on the curve of his nose and how much she hoped he couldn't hear her hemorrhaging heart pounding in her chest.

"Then maybe we could meet up then. Grab breakfast together or something before you leave?" Shikamaru proposed.

"Are you sure, I mean, working for the mayor must have you pretty busy? I'd hate to be troublesome and for you to have to go out of your way." Troublesome; a word Toshiko hadn't used in a decade rolled off her tongue like it was nothing. Like it had always been there, like she always used it.

"You wouldn't be," Shikamaru said, "Saying that I'm going out of my way makes it seem like a favor or something, and it wouldn't be Toshi. I want to catch up."

Oh, Toshiko thought. She smiled though, through the pain. It was a small doll-like smile.

Why couldn't he have gotten meaner in the past ten years? Or uglier? Why did he have to look as beautiful has he'd always been; why did he have to have ring around his finger?

"Maybe," she said, which just meant not at all, "I'll have to see. Everyone is really broken up about ōoji-san's death."

"Right," Shikamaru swallowed, he nodded, "Right, of course."

His head tipped downwards and his eyes connected to Toshiko's. They were as dark as she could remember; they reminded Toshiko of Tahitian Pearls. Toshiko moved to step around him only for Shikamaru to step with her.

"I'm here if you-any of you—," he said, earnestly, "—Need something. Anything, it doesn't matter what, or when. I'm here."

And there was the kindness Toshiko had fallen in love with years ago; no matter how lazy Shikamaru could be, no matter how unmotivated he was at any given moment, if she had needed him— his help —he had always been right there next to her, willing to do whatever need be.

Toshiko couldn't help but think that maybe he had gotten meaner over the past ten years. That it would have been nicer— hurt less —if he had reached through Toshiko's chest and twisted her hear manually.

"Thank you Shikamaru," Toshiko said softly before moving around him. She tried not to look like she was running towards the women's bathroom, where Toshiko— for the first time since she had last found herself in Konoha; since she had last seen Shikamaru —broke down in stall.

As she cried in the restaurant stall Toshiko couldn't help but wish she could go back twenty years. Back to the start.

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