#mechanism. ugh. fucking obito. why????

[opens-up-4-nobody]

Why is kishimoto constantly saying naruto and obito are the same??? I dont understand what he's trying to say?? I thought obito was how he is bc he was protected from hardship by loving relationships within his clan. And then when the Rin stuff happened he turned his back on his bonds and became a villain. So by seeing naruto and his bonds and remembering a time he was loved, obito would be redeemed. And the idea would be that people want to be good but they need the support of others. But no apparently Obito's an orphan??? So his behavior is a cry for attention like naruto's. So. I don't understand what we're saying here with obito? Because when faced with tragedy naruto doubles down on his resolution and obito's resolve buckled and broke. Maybe it's to say that an uchiha couldn't be the ninja world savior because of their cursed love? That it had to be a senju? Because if so, I hate that. Some making it all about bloodlines. I just. I don't understand what the point of obito is....

#im thinking too hard abt this but i want it to make sense. i just find obito extremely boring as a stand along character #and god dont Even get me started on rin. possibly the only female character who feels more disrespectfully written than sakura #just. ugh. i like that obito is a knife twisting in kakashi's gut but hes so fucking booooring god. and how tf did i not kno he was an #orphan until like 385 episodes in???? i like my conceptualization of him better #that he was a privileged kid who acted like naruto bc he was nieve and then broke under pressure. not that his optimism was a coping #mechanism. ugh. fucking obito. why???? #unrelated #naruto ramblings #im prob overthinking it. it mught just be naruto saying we're the same! and empathy wins #but it feels like it wants to me more than that

[electrasev5nwrites]

Ninja Daily: Clarity 18

"Tell me, Uzumaki-san. Do you believe it is possible that you have repressed the memories of your death and associated time in Konoha because it is painful?"

Dr. Yamada blinked placidly from her leather chair, as if she hadn't asked a particularly prying question that implied Aiko was an emotional wreck. Aiko felt her teeth grind together, a new and unpleasant habit she had developed in reaction to her twice-weekly sessions with this woman.

"No."

The older woman didn't even have the decency to look surprised, her steel-gray bob barely shifting when she nodded understandingly. "Why is that?"

Why is-

Oh for shit's sake. How was she supposed to answer that? She didn't have any fucking problems with her feelings.

"I don't remember anything before the hospital because of head trauma sustained against Nagato," Aiko answered mechanically. Her fingers twisted the material of her long but close-cut black sleeves. The material was sturdier than anything Obito had provided, that was for sure. No wonder the shinobi here seemed to wear the same clothes over and over again when Aiko would have planned ten ruined outfits into her budget.

There was no point in looking any further into what had caused her memory loss; she wouldn't know any more and she didn't want to know any more. Aiko pointedly did not consider the conflicting information that she had been experiencing some severely creepy déjà-vu in Konoha. She hadn't talked about that with Dr. Yamada. It might as well not be true, as far as the doctor was concerned.

She took a shallow breath and wished that everyone else wasn't so scent blind. The office they had initially had consultations in had been poisoned with a sickeningly saccharine air freshener pumping in fraudulent vanilla stink that had been an instant route to a headache. The current office had been pointedly fumigated, but the tempting aroma of plasticky baking crap still hung enticingly in the air.

Unfortunately, there was no way around having to breathe.

"How does that make you feel?"

The big muscle on the right side of Aiko's jaw convulsed painfully. She consciously relaxed the joint, not letting her teeth touch.

'It doesn't make me feel anything and I don't see why it matters. The situation is what it is and talking about it won't do anyone any good.'

That answer would be unacceptable. Aiko didn't want to answer.

Artificial light glinted off of five tiny steel orbs. Dr. Yamada was the only working professional Aiko had ever met with a facial piercing- a little dot on the left side of her nose that matched the plain jewelry in her ears.

Her staring hardly seemed to bother Dr. Yamada. Pity. Aiko wouldn't mind sharing the discomfort.

Silence stretched on, thin and fraying at the edges. From painful experience Aiko knew that the civilian woman wouldn't allow the conversation to move on until she had an answer, however unsatisfactory. In her first sessions, Aiko had thought to be a troll and sit in silence for an hour and a half. That had been satisfying enough- until she was 'escorted' to her next session and realized that Dr. Yamada was still waiting patiently for a reply.

Ugh.

"I feel peachy," Aiko gritted out. She gave her sixty year old psychologist a look that threatened violence if the good doctor disagreed.

"Hmm." In the well-lit office, she could make out flecks of variation in Dr. Yamada's brown eyes. But she couldn't get a read on the other woman. That was part of Yamada's dark gift. The dark blue fabric of Yamada's immaculately neat pant suit shifted and shadowed when the older woman crossed her legs, still relaxed. Aiko didn't notice that she mirrored the motion, her own black pants barely a whisper of fabric secured with wound bandages.

"You know," Yamada said, sounding for all the world as if they were discussing matters unrelated to either of them. "Many people, civilian and shinobi alike, experience stress. The mind often deals with matters that are too traumatic or sudden by putting them aside until there is time to confront them."

That sounded perfectly alright as a concept applied in theory to other people. Aiko favored Dr. Yamada with a nod, trying to look attentive enough.

The faint wrinkles around Dr. Yamada's mouth moved nearly imperceptibly as she talked. "It would be quite understandable for a near-death experience to result in memory repression."

'Death experience. It was a death experience. And no.'

And that was where she lost Aiko entirely. She uncrossed her legs, letting them stretch out, and leaned back in an unconsciously arrogant pose with one elbow propped on an armrest. She did not speak, because there was nothing to say to that.

Yamada's eyes narrowed slightly, the smallest hint that Aiko was getting to her. "Mental health is every bit as real and critical to human performance as physical health is. It is merely less tangible and quantifiable, but there are real psychological connections between the mind and the body." She gestured ever so slightly at her chest as she talked.

That was another that that bothered Aiko. The mind was connected to the brain. It was so intuitively obvious - but she wouldn't try to tell Yamada that. The woman was convinced that a person was centered in their heart. The Yamanaka specialist, on the other hand, gave more credence to the eyes as the window to the soul. 1

Basically everyone but Aiko was weird.

But Yamada was still waiting for an answer, wasn't she? Aiko bit the inside of her cheek while she dredged up an appropriate platitude.

"I believe that."

However wrong-headed her psychologist was about the mind being in the heart or Aiko being a fragile flower incapable of coping with the inherent scariness of ninja work, she was undoubtedly correct about the paramount importance of mental health.

It was the wrong thing to say. Dr. Yamada gave another of her infuriatingly sphinx-like nods of acceptance. Aiko watched her mouth open almost in slow motion, dreading whatever crap would come next. "I'm glad to hear that. Uzumaki-san, it is my belief that your mental health is less than optimal. That state of affairs is affecting your ability to perform to your fullest capacity. In order to be happy and healthy, that residual fear and trauma must be dealt with."

Fear and trauma?

Irritation jumped up a full range into bubbling anger.

'Fear- bullshit. I'm not afraid. I think I know most about what goes on in my head, thanks.'

"I don't have any feelings like that." Oh. Shit, that was a poor choice of words. Aiko hurriedly backtracked, tapping her fingers on her lap. "I mean I do but in a completely normal fashion that does not impede my ability to function."

However much of a cipher she was, Yamada was a civilian. She was simply so threatening that Aiko occasionally forgot so. When her left eyebrow raised just a hair, Aiko saw it.

Aiko took a deep breath through her teeth in an attempt to calm herself, cursing the rush of foully sweet air that rushed in. It didn't work. "Oh, how would you know?" She instantly regretted snapping, words heavy and accusative in the air.

Yamada didn't say anything. She didn't look at the framed diploma that declared that she was in fact an expert in mental health. She didn't have to.

The stormcloud hanging over Aiko's head was all but a tangible thing, bubbling and seeping lower. "Fine." She tossed her hair, breaking eye contact to glare bitterly at the wall behind Dr. Yamada. It was a profoundly stupid wall and Aiko hated it. "You win this round."

"As I have said before, our consultations are not a competition," Dr. Yamada repeated for what had to be the tenth time. Aiko didn't deign to answer that, because she had looked up to the clock and- "It's time for us to finish now. Uzumaki-san, I would like for you to spend some time this week in meditation about what type of hurts fighting Nagato-san might have inspired. Can you do that for me?"

"Hai." Aiko agreed with no intention of following through, and stood abruptly. She wrestled with her poor mood for a moment- and then grudgingly gave a short bow. Her loose hair swung down, leaving the back of her neck bare and prickling with chill. However infuriating she found the older woman, Yamada-san was both highly educated and a worthy opponent. It would be indescribably rude to simply walk out. "I look forward to seeing you next week."

There was zero chance that her doctor believed that, but Dr. Yamada gave no indication she had thoughts otherwise. "Likewise, Uzumaki-san. Have a good week." She made some decisive notation on her discarded clipboard- probably the time.

'Oh, I fucking will. I'll have the best fucking week anyone ever fucking had.'

Then she wheeled around and stomped out of the office, flinging open the door carelessly without stopping. Shizune wasn't waiting to walk her home- Aiko was far too old to need an escort, and Shizune too busy for such trifling tasks. It wasn't like the older kunoichi didn't have someone watching and reporting to be certain Aiko behaved herself and went to her sessions.

'Two days of freedom. Then I go see the other hack.' Moodily, Aiko flipped up the hood on her pink vest and stepped out into the oppressive damp. At least the soggy heat was doing a serviceable job of beating most of the day-walkers back into their homes.

She was mildly jealous. If she could go home, she would. When her blue sandal landed in a particularly deep puddle, dirty water splashed up over and between Aiko's toes. Disgusting. She'd have to give herself a pedicure. How did anyone live like this?

'Akatsuki was much more civilized.'

Homesickness hit her like a physical thing, tugging at her gut. She was tired of sharing space with so many people. She was tired of being poked and prodded to talk about her feelings and health with Yamada and her experiences and resurfaced memories with the Yamanaka mind specialist. She wanted to be free and unfettered- to run and just not stop until she was so far away that everyone else might as well be dead. She wanted to be left alone in a dark home somewhere that Konoha wouldn't bother her. She wanted-

What?

Flummoxed, Aiko stopped to blink at the steps she was mounting.

'This isn't Shizune's apartment complex.' Confused, she took a cautious step backwards, sandals scraping back onto the cobblestone street. 'Where is this? Why did I walk here?' Aiko cast an unnerved glance over the construction- one of the many new buildings, a construction with a wooden frame, oddly abstract sense of whimsy in the design, and a paint job that made it look like some kind of dessert. All in all, it was surprisingly typical for Konoha architecture. There was nothing about it that caught her eye or explained why her feet had led her there.

A hand curled up to rest in a fist over her heart, feeling the gentle pounding for a moment. Then Aiko tightened her fist and brought it back down to her side. She tilted her face down against the rain and set off again, this time not letting her mind wander.

She was arrested one more time before reaching the safety of her temporary home.

"Uzumaki!" A male voice called out, sounding oddly disgruntled for someone trying to initiate a discussion.

She glanced over- a long-haired young man dressed in white was frowning at her.

Ew. There was something seriously wrong with his face. He appeared to be blind and had a bad problem with thick, pulsating veins on his temples and cheeks.

'I cannot imagine a world wherein I want to associate with this person. Konoha ninja are total freaks.'

"Your presence is surprising." He moved toward her easily, veins subsiding a bit. Still too creepy. "I had heard that-"

"Who are you? No, don't tell me. I don't care." Pointedly, she pulled her hood slightly further up and turned away, leaving Hyuuga Neji gaping in the street. Aiko walked a little faster than was really suave, eager to put some distance between herself and that creepy weirdo. Luckily, he didn't follow.

She peeled her hooded vest like a soggy second skin as soon as she was inside, grimacing at the way the fabric clung to her skin. It hit the ground with a wet schlopp, splattering rainwater onto Shizune's nice floor.

Feeling guilty, Aiko toed off her sandals and rubbed her numb, pink toes into the tatami. She gave a quick glance into the apartment to be sure she was alone and then stripped off her shirt and pants, using the fabric to wrap up the sopping jacket to reduce drippage.

'I should shower.'

Instead, she hung her wet things in the shower and all but leapt into her bathrobe. That was, of course, when there was a shunshin and a knock on Shizune's door.

'It's Yamato or Hatake.'

Aiko didn't even have to think to know that. She didn't know why they both hummed with identical chakra, but now that she'd determined a pattern, she couldn't deny that she was hyperaware of those two specific men.

She pulled open the door, hoping for Yamato.

Hatake Kakashi took one look at her –soaking wet and in a fuzzy bathrobe- took a step back, and said, "I'll come back later." Just like Sasuke, he was gone with a puff of smoke.

Aiko tilted her head to the side, watching it dissipate.

'I think that was the best interaction we've had so far.'

With a shrug, she went to cross the day off on the calendar in her room and tried not to scowl at the appointment note coming up far too soon. Her appointments were two days apart, but she wasn't going to see Dr. Yamada the next time.

By the time that session had rolled around, Aiko still hadn't warmed up to the idea.

As irritating as the appointments with the civilian trauma and mental health specialist were, Aiko reserved a special place in her heart for loathing of sessions with the pointy-faced Yamanaka who actually had the clearance to ask her about the specifics of her memories and missions. He was just as hard to lie to as Dr. Yamada, but Yamanaka-sensei couldn't be brushed off with 'that's classified'.

It was embarrassing to go over every nightmare she had in excruciating detail. She wasn't even sure that they were memories at all- for all Aiko knew, she was just baring her soul for the fun of it. Lovely.

There wasn't any choice. Dr. Yamada was there to ensure Aiko's mental health- Yamanaka-sensei was the one who was getting what Konoha needed to know out of her. She was savvy enough to see that, no matter what he said about patient confidentiality.

'I can't really begrudge them that anyway. I did attack one of their people.'

After her third session, Aiko lingered in the doorway to nurse the sucker she'd begged off the receptionist. Peach, of all the things, but the sugar still helped somehow.

Maybe the sessions would go easier if she had some method of validating or eliminating some of her opinions. She was itching for something to do- letting Yamato bat her around in spars wasn't that fascinating. Until she trusted Konoha enough to let go and use her spooky eyes on them, she was pretty much jutsu-less. An intellectual hobby might be a nice distraction from the increasingly crowded feeling of being in Konoha.

'What would they have information on that I could use? And how do I get it…'

She gave a hard suck on her candy, spinning the stick it was on as she stepped out into the streets to wander aimlessly. 'The obvious answer is a library, of course. But that's going to be heavily skewed on a lot of topics. I might… Huh,' Aiko marveled. 'I bet their genealogies and service records are complete. I could compare Obito and Madara to see if there's anything there I can use to convince them I know what I'm talking about.'

And while she was researching Uchiha, she could keep an eye out for information on the Sharingan and Rinnegan. She still didn't even know what the medium stage between the regular Sharingan and the Rinnegan was called or for- if anyone would have that kind of information, it would be Konoha.

But surely that sort of information wasn't accessible to just anyone. The blue building seventeen blocks from Hokage tower wasn't called a 'Public Library,' it was the 'Compendium for records of Konoha culture and history'.

'Lucky I know someone who could help me get in.'

Somehow, the sweet candy in her mouth tasted bitter. Aiko didn't like having to ask for favors, however small they may be.

"You want permission to go to the library?" Tsunade blinked once Aiko finally got an appointment, openly bemused. "What brought this on?"

'How many reasons are there to go to a library? I'm looking for a new pet, obviously.'

Somehow she managed to keep disdain from dripping into her tone. "I would like to do some reading through your records of Uchiha shinobi."

Assuming there was anything remotely useful, she might be able to find something- anything- to help her argument. And, more importantly, figure out if her eyes were liable to do anything particularly awful like liquidify if she used them incorrectly.

Aiko suppressed a shudder.

"Fine." Tsunade bent to the side to pull open a drawer and pulled out a yellow pad of paper.

Wait, what?

'That was too easy. She isn't really just going to give me what I want just because I ask, is she?'

Suspicious, Aiko took a moment too long to walk forward when the Hokage beckoned, pen in hand.

"Come on, girl. You'll need authorization, since you don't have a hitai-ite." She blinked, as if saying that aloud had made her realize the truth in that statement for the first time. "Hmm." The Hokage frowned, inking something arcane that didn't appear to be a seal script, hiragana, katakana, or kanji. "I'll have one brought up from the supplies. I hadn't realized that your old one would be completely…"

Completely what? What did happen to that?

Curious, Aiko cocked her head to the side as she took the proffered paper and immediately shoved it in her jacket pocket.

She gave it a second's thought and instantly regretted it.

'I died. That was probably when it happened. There aren't many reasons that a loyal nin loses their headband.'

Well, that was a mood killer. She slammed the door behind her as she left.

"You really think she's remembering things?" Tsunade watched the closed door contemplatively for a moment. "Yamanaka-san still isn't certain that her nightmares are anything more than nightmares."

The ANBU she had been talking to before a knock on her door slunk back into visibility from the little cove where he had been crowding her regular guard. He took up his position in front of her desk with a straight back, hands at his side. "As I said, she did attempt to return to her old apartment building yesterday," Yamato said mildly. "The memories are there on some level."

The Hokage hummed noncommittally. "You also said that her skills have deteriorated."

Yamato made a face, uncomfortable with that summation. "Not… exactly," he picked. "Her physical condition is noticeably better than I remember. And although her taijutsu is less varied, it's still lethal." He paused, giving the impression of attempting to be fair. "And her chakra chains are much more like Karin's now, although she wields them with far less speed and precision than she used to."

"That can be ameliorated with practice and attributed to the change in her chakra proportions." Tsunade rested her cheek on a palm, pursing her lips. "I would have to say that losing all of her jutsu is a significant sign of deterioration overall. She still won't show aggression in spars?"

"Not unless I specifically order her to, and it's halfhearted."

Tsunade sighed, leaning forward to relish the last trembling vestiges of sunlight from the window behind her. "And she still is operating under the delusion that the Waterfall jinchuuriki got better from being dead." Her lips twisted sourly, hidden by the angle of her head. "What a mess. If it weren't for that and the insistent confusion about Uchiha Madara, I would say that she was coming along well."

She needed Aiko to come along well and lie like a champion about Konan's coerced action for Akatsuki. Konan was the only shinobi who could hope to keep Ame in one piece. Not only was she their most powerful leader, but she carried the support of the shockingly deluded masses who refused to believe that Nagato was not a literal god who would eventually return to his faithful. They were willing to accept his 'angel' as a temporary stand-in.

'I suppose that personally ensuring Ame had no casualties for the length of his tenure would endear him to the populace. How many times did he revive his shinobi?'

"Is that why you gave her Chuunin clearance in the archives?" Yamato instantly flushed at the interest his question betrayed, though Tsunade didn't even look up at him.

"Yes. She's stubborn. No amount of repeating what we've already told her will change her mind." Tsunade pushed back her chair to stand, arching her back slightly to stretch. Women her age weren't meant to sit in one position for hours at a time.

She pretended not to hear Yamato's soft sigh and continued.

"I wish she would confide in Shizune or Yamanaka Santa. I want to know what the hell those eyes are about. Failing that, taking the initiative to ask for the ability to come to her own conclusions may be the best sign we've seen yet." She gave a teensy snort, shaking her head slightly. "Aside from her paranoid, delicate treatment of you, of course. It could be so much worse if she was hostile."

She glanced up in time to see the slightest hint of a smile on her jounin's face. Tsunade let one eyebrow slide up her forehead, not seeing what was so charming about that.

Yamato flushed at her scrutiny, ears pinking. "It's cute," he offered weakly.

'Cute.' Tsunade took a slow inhalation and released it in a controlled seeping, chest falling. 'He thinks it's cute. The people I work with.'

There was the slightest sound of a sandal scuffing on her brand new carpet as her jounin fidgeted. He cleared his throat. "As far as I can tell, it's genuinely because she doesn't trust herself not to hurt allies in a spar. It'll go away after a few weeks, I'm sure."

'I wish I shared that confidence. But as long as she only sees Konoha nin as those allies, we won't have problems with it.' Tsunade waived him out- and then spoke up just as he finished bowing and turned to leave.

"Tell Naruto he can contact her, if he likes. He's probably in Sasuke's office at the moment."

She was leery of exposing him to someone who had been in Akatsuki custody for such a long time, but even her paranoia had limits. Whatever problems she might have, Aiko didn't seem to be violent.

Yamato nodded and left without comment.

"Hey, Aiko!"

She halted mid-step in the lower lobby at a very loud, slightly raspy voice. She hadn't even completely made it out of Hokage tower. The boy who'd come bounding out of the crowd was grinning toothily, pulling a one-handled bag off his shoulders.

"Hold up a minute, would you?" He didn't wait for a response, plopping the bag down and unzipping it in one motion. "I'm supposed to- I have your stuff," he amended, talking hastily. He scrunched up his nose in unconscious irritation with the strands of blonde hair that were hanging down into his eyes.

"You have my things?" Aiko repeated cautiously, frowning.

'Why does he have my things?'

"Yeah, I think baa-chan forgot," he said absently, pulling out a very familiar bit of red leather.

"My holster?" Aiko reached out, somehow unsurprised when he placed it in her hand without looking. In the work of a few moments she had it strapped on- no one had fiddled with the straps, so it was already fitted correctly.

"Yeah, I think there's some kunai and senbon in here too." With a careless clatter, the boy tipped the bag and collected the weapons that fell out. Someone had bound them together and polished them- they'd need to be unwrapped.

'This is strange, but… okay? I think it's okay.'

"Thanks," she said. She took the first package and began unraveling it, packing the freed weapons away. "So, um, you know my name…"

He flushed. "I'm Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto."

It took a moment for that to sink in. When it did, her fingers fumbled. A flash of pain was the only thing that told her she'd managed to cut her index finger on a bare blade.

'Uzumaki. That's my last name. He looks roughly my age. Obito said that there was only one other Uzumaki child in Konoha when the last jinchuuriki died and- and-'

She clenched her hand into a fist, pressing the leaking finger into her palm to stop the bleeding.

Dear kami, that was a jinchuuriki right there, not two feet away from her. Her heart jolted unpleasantly. A jinchuuriki, meaning a person who had another one of those bijuu in him.

A familiar acidic tang prickled in her nose and the feeling of dry heat, of slowly baking alive washed over her flesh. Fear. Helpless. Insignificant.

On some level, her mind was whimpering helplessly.

Did it- no he, she'd decided jinchuuriki were people- did he know that she'd helped kill jinchuuriki before? Was he holding a grudge? Was he-

He was awfully familiar. Actually.

"I think I know you," Aiko said carefully, giving a smile that she did not feel. "From the orphanage, right?"

For a moment, his face was very still. Then it cracked into a painfully bright smile, accompanied by a thumbs-up. "Yupp! We lived together up until we were fifteen or so."

'That's a long time.'

"Oh." Her mouth was dry. "That's nice. You, um." She fumbled for words, torn between wanting to be very polite and wanting to escape.

'Someone wants me to like him and to associate him with safety. That's why he's the person who gave me back my equipment. That's not a coincidence. Why does Konoha care? What do they want?'

"Want to get lunch?" Naruto asked hopefully, shouldering his deflated bag. "I'm heading out on a mission later today and I didn't pack a lunch, 'ttebayo."

God no. Never.

"Yeah. That sounds nice." Aiko forced leaden feet to move, keeping pace with Naruto's strides toward the door.

'He's related to me somehow. Probably pretty closely, since we share a last name and there are few Uzumaki. Should I ask? Is he emotionally compromised? He seems friendly. I don't think he's registered me as a threat.'

The place he took her to was a dinky ramen bar that had quite possibly survived an invasion or two, judging by the dents and pointedly fresh paint. A pretty serving girl greeted both of them –by name, that was so freaky- and immediately set to work on their order. As she walked away, Aiko curled her toes against the bar under her stool and looked at the counter.

They weren't the only patrons—an older couple was sitting further down, the taller man feeding his protesting boyfriend tonkatsu with a laugh. The other patrons seemed to be too busy to take a full lunch hour- while they waited on their order, no less than three people came by to pick up 'to-go' orders.

"Hey." Naruto looked as uncomfortable as she felt, glancing down at her from the corner of his eye. "You alright?" He leaned slightly into her personal space to push her bowl down to her and- and-

That was a familiar scent. She eyed his vibrantly yellow hair, noticing a tiny braid peeking out from under his right ear. Other than that bit of order, it was a riotous mass. It was rather like how hers might be, if it wasn't long enough for truly exciting tangles to form.

"What shampoo do you use?"

Naruto blinked, face blank. "Uh. Cloves and something else. I just use what Karin buys me."

Aiko hmmed, breaking her chopsticks apart and fiddling with them. "Gotcha. So, um. A walrus?"

That appeared to utterly confound him. A noodle slipped out the side of his mouth.

Oddly, that helped. It was hard to feel intimidated by someone with food coming out of their mouth. He tilted his head and licked futilely at the soup escaping down his chin, blue eyes straining and failing to see the mess. "Your sleeping hat," she explained. "Someone gave it to me." Aiko shrugged. "I recognize your scent. I'm guessing that wasn't you?"

Naruto snorted and clapped a hand to his face to prevent any more liquid from escaping. He took a moment to laboriously swallow his enormous mouthful of food. "Socially challenged bastard," he mumbled, sounding fond. "No, um." His voice raised. "That wasn't me. It was meant to be helpful, I'm sure."

She didn't have anything to say, so she stuffed the boiled egg that had come with her meal into her mouth. Her eyes watered almost instantly. Hot. Her bowl was too hot. As soon as she had swallowed, Aiko grabbed for her water.

"How are you doing?" Naruto burst out in a rush of air. He glanced at her under his bangs and then jerked his gaze back to the countertop.

"Um." Aiko set down her chopsticks and interlocked her fingers on her lap. "I'm fine." In a moment of uncharacteristic honesty, she stared into the depths of her ramen bowl and admitted, "This just feels surreal. You know? Like this last week is a weird dream and I'm about to wake up."

Naruto nodded slowly, licking off his chopsticks. "But not a bad dream, right?"

She hesitated. "It's not a good dream, but it's not exactly puppets and zombies either."

"Well… I'm glad to hear that, I guess." He flashed a smile at her, holding a hand up to signal for another bowl. The waitress must have been expecting that because she quickly fluttered over to switch out bowls. "It'll get better. You're staying with Shizune-chan, ne?"

"Mm," Aiko nodded. "Yepp. She's alright. Kinda strict, though." Her intuition had been right the first day, when she had thought that Shizune would be difficult to budge on the whole 'mental health care' thing. There was just no arguing with that woman.

Naruto gave a surprised laugh, interrupted in the middle of blowing on his ramen to cool it. "If she wasn't, we wouldn't get anything done," he shared mischievously. "Baa-chan is crazy smart and cool and stuff, but she lacks in organizational thought. Shizune-chan makes sure the day to day stuff gets done."

'…Wait. Is 'Baa-chan' the Hokage?'

Her lips twitched. Maybe she could see them being related. That nickname was flippantly inappropriate enough that she sort of wished she'd come up with it. The analysis of the power in Konoha, on the other hand, she stored away for later consideration. Naruto might have a pretty good gauge of his Hokage's character.

The boy in question gave an obscenely loud slurp, polishing off his second bowl. Aiko glanced down at her ramen. It was still nearly full. Feeling mildly guilty for her slowness, she diligently picked through the mushrooms and pork belly, ignoring the greens.

"I need to go soon." Naruto frowned up at the position of the sun, waiting for his third bowl. "Can I get the check with this one?" The waitress gave him an indulgent smile and whirled away, smelling like flour and fresh dough.

Aiko didn't even pretend to look for her wallet. He was paying. She didn't have any money.

"I should be back in a week." Naruto gave her a nervous glance through his lashes, fiddling with a worn coin purse. "Want to do this again?"

The moment struck her as very awkward, in a sinking way.

'Wait. Was this a date?' She opened her mouth to ask, and then nodded silently instead. She didn't want to make an ass out of herself by misinterpreting the situation.

He grinned, counting out a hefty tip and exchanging cheek kisses over the counter with the ramen girl. A girlfriend, maybe? "Great!" Naruto chirped, waggling his fingers at the pretty brunette. She was already drifting away to take another order. "Have fun, yeah? Oh man, I'm gonna be late." He slipped off his stool and moved to push open the fabric veiling the stand from the street, tossing her one last blinding grin. "See ya!"

For a moment, she sat there to give her mind a chance to catch up. When she felt a little less like she had been hit in the face with a salmon, Aiko favored the girl behind the counter with a smile. "Ayame-san?" When she was met with a nod and the girl's full attention, the smile became a little more genuine. "Weird question. How often does he come here?"

"Not as much as he used to." The girl tapped her chin with a slim, uncalloused finger. "I'd say perhaps once a day when he's in town." She practically beamed. "I might be the first one to know when he's back from his missions!" Her laugh was as cute as the rest of her, Aiko noted.

'That's appalling. The food here is not nearly good enough to merit that.'

Aiko stretched her face into a parody of a smile, intentionally wrinkling the corners of her eyes. "I'll probably see you around, then." She tapped a loose parody of a salute before sliding off her stool and pushing her way through the fabric that separated the stall from the hubbub of Konoha's streets.

Irritatingly enough, she ended up backtracking in the general direction that Naruto had dragged her from. She only knew how to locate the library from the Hokage Tower. The only stop she made was a Shizune's apartment to acquire a notebook and a few nice pens: black and blue and pink ink that would be good for taking notes. It also wasn't a half-bad place to tuck away her flimsy pass.

When she got to the library, she just looked at the outside.

'I don't really feel like doing this right now.'

She steeled herself and went in anyway, only lingering to read the headline of a newspaper discarded on the long counter. SUNAGAKURE PLAGUED BY BIJUU. EXPERTS SUSPECT A WITHDRAWRAL FROM ALLIANCE IMMINENT.

Poor Wind Country. For just a moment, a guilty smile tugged at her lips. That was terrible, it really was. Bijuu were fucking scary. On the other hand, it was also sort of hysterical.

'It's also not important right now. I'm avoiding thinking about what I should be doing.'

Aiko shook her head, tugging at her hair. She really didn't want to go bury herself in books about Uchiha, but this was important. Information was her only weapon at the moment, so she needed as much of it as she could get.

Uncertain but stubborn, Aiko stalked in purposefully and flashed her Tsunade-gifted pass at the woman behind the counter.

Brown eyes narrowed on her with a fiercely intelligent sharpness, and then dismissed her just as easily. "You don't show that to me."

Aiko faltered, fingers tightening on her pass. The spiral notebook under her arm was digging into her skin, sticking uncomfortably.

"Where-"

"Up the stairs and to your left." There was the sound of a magazine page flipping. That had never seemed like a particularly 'final' noise before, but it ended the conversation handily.

"Right." Aiko pinned her lower lip between her teeth and attempted to look as though she knew what she was doing. She allowed her sandals to make tapping noise on the stairs, taking comfort from the steady punctuation. The man she was meant to show her pass to was in fact recognizable by his headband and the giant sign above his station.

He barely glanced at her paper, spending an exploratory tendril of chakra through the paper to check for who knows what. It must have passed muster because he passed it back.

"Looks fine. If you try to go to the fourth floor or higher, I am authorized to use lethal force."

Her eyebrows shot up. She couldn't quite keep from assessing him as a potential opponent while his arm was extended. Wiry muscle under a Konoha flak jacket indicated he was light and fast. The thin lines of scarring on his fingertips and palms told her that he was fond of some sort of wires or small blades.

'I think I can take him. I would take him down fast and hard- he's probably a clever fighter. I'd be better off using brute force. My Susanoo is utter shit, but it wouldn't have to be great to rip him apart in this confined space.'

Aiko shook that thought off and gave him a smile to cover that she had been contemplating how she would murder him.

He gave her an unimpressed look that implied he knew exactly where her head had been. "Mmhm. Enjoy the library."

She flushed and wheeled around, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. She didn't need to ask directions. She'd just read titles until she found what she was looking for. That could only take a few hours or days. Very reasonable. She wasn't avoiding anything.

Surely there were genealogies and histories on this floor and the one above. Otherwise Tsunade would have given her higher authorization. Right?

Strangely enough, she did not find the correct section in that trip to the library. Aiko combed the second floor and discovered a great deal of information about Konoha's clans, founding, and administration.

It was on her second trip early in the next morning that she found what she was looking for. She took an armful of scrolls and books to a table without thinking too deeply about why most clan information and genealogies would be stored at private repositories off site but the Uchiha things had been moved to the library.

She went to the genealogies first, thinking to find Madara and start her research on him from there. It took a while to discern the slightest hint of the logic behind organization. The Uchiha had internally sorted itself by lines descending from their oldest known ancestor. Uchiha Sasuke, as far as she could tell, was the last scion of the 'purest' line- that descended from Uchiha Madara's female cousin Uchiha Kana, who had succeeded him as clan head after he scarpered the hell out of Konoha.

'Apparently, it was impolitic to enshrine Madara in the family tree. Seems rather counter to the stated purpose of a genealogy to leave out anyone you don't like. But then, if no one in Konoha was really closely related to him, the inaccuracy might be worth it for the ability to distance yourself from the legend of the first traitor.'

Painfully, there seemed to be ten or so different family lines within the Uchiha. That had probably been very useful in terms of keeping the inbreeding to a minimum, but it introduced another level of irritation to her research.

'So all I have to do is read each record of births and careers in the time frame that Obito was born to figure out which book he's in. I can discard any one book that has no mention of him in that time frame. It would be nice to know what time frame I need to investigate.'

She paused for a moment to wish that she had a more than vague idea of how old Obito was. He had a strangely ageless face. He was older than her, for sure, having been her father's student. But he didn't look like he could possibly be thirty. And that was a ridiculously conservative estimate- math that would have made him eleven at the time he murdered her father. So he had to be older than that.

But it just didn't seem possible. Obito looked twenty-five or so, on the skin that wasn't scarred with inhuman tissues.

Aiko scowled down at what felt like the hundredth nearly identical picture of a pale, dark-haired Uchiha with pretty features. She had almost convinced herself that the stupid family line in this particular book would be the right one, but she had reached Uchiha born a little over twenty years ago with no sign of Obito. Stupid Uchiha with their stupid, complicated eyes. Eyes that they never seemed to have any trouble with. She was sick and fucking tired of looking at generations of those smug bastards. Feeling irritable, she snatched her black pen and scribbled sunglasses over the pointy-faced jerk she had been reading about.

Then she paused.

'Actually, I like that. Uchiha look good in sunglasses.'

She couldn't quite resent them for that, no matter that she was envious of that sort of easy cool. The next Uchiha got big bug-eyed glasses, though they were slightly lopsided. Her next four attempts were better, at which point she felt confident enough to move on to rather suave cat eye glasses, and then a flat-topped variety that may have been a faulty paradigm in design. She worked it to a science, paring the time for each sketch down to about five seconds. Perhaps she should try-

"What the hell are you doing?"

Aiko jerked guiltily, pen flying. Uchiha Sasuke plucked it out of the air- damn him- and laid it down on the table by her defaced books.

'Nothing, why do you ask' wasn't going to cut it.

"Fixing this book." As soon as she recovered herself, Aiko leveled her steadiest gaze up on his dark eyes. Eyes that would indeed look better under a lovely set of cat-eyes or wayfarers. "The pictures are all wrong." Shameless, she raised an eyebrow in challenge.

He was very still, features unhelpfully blank. "They're… wrong."

"Yes." She pushed a book toward him. "Everyone knows that Uchiha always wore glasses. I was helping."

Sasuke looked down at her, knowing full well that she was feeding him a bald-faced lie. Aiko looked up at him, knowing that he knew she was a damn liar.

And then he nodded, pulling out the chair she had stacked with books and shifting enough that he could sit. "You have another-"

"Yeah, here." Aiko passed over the blue pen automatically.

'I can't believe that worked.'

The Hokage's apprentice pulled open a book, made a mildly amused sound at whatever he recognized, and inked a rather uninspired set of glasses over someone named 'Shisui' with the faintest hint of a smile. After a moment he leaned back, pursed his lips, and added a wiggle that was probably meant as a light refracting off a curved lens.

There was absolutely no chance he believed her. Right? Right, she assured herself. The world had just- just tilted a little bit. That was all.

Aiko gave a little shake to banish her disorientation and set back to her art so that she didn't risk looking at Sasuke again. She was a little more attentive to her surroundings this time, which helped her subtly shut her book and allow Sasuke to do the same a moment before a Chuunin messenger was standing at their table.

"Uchiha-san?" The girl's eyes flickered over to Aiko for only a moment. "Your presence is required in the hospital."

He stood up instantly, chair scraping on the wooden floor. "I understand. Go." The messenger gave a quick bob of a bow before fleeing. Aiko straightened a bit, ears perked in interest. He glanced down at her. "Better keep working, Uzumaki. There's a lot to fix."

She stuck her tongue out at him, but he was gone in a puff of smoke.

'I suppose that counts as having his blessing.'

Still, the appeal of her lonely campaign to help the Uchiha accessorize was dulling. Aiko pushed aside the useless book for a genealogy of another line- and finally struck gold.

"Holy shit." Aiko leaned back in her chair. "Holy shit. Obito is –is thirty-five?" She shook her head slightly, marveling. That was just… unimaginably old. Decrepit. Aghast, she leaned her forehead into her palms and let her mouth hang open.

'He's ancient. I never thought he was anywhere near that old.'

Then she took a mental step back, remembered that Konoha thought she had been spending time with Uchiha Madara. Perhaps she really was as naïve as Konoha thought she was. Even by her estimate, she had really believed a man nearly twice her age had been her friend and cared for her as an equal. What did a 35 year old man care for a 19 year old girl?

'I don't want to think about this.'

Aiko moved on to all but devour the little that the Uchiha had deemed worthy to record of Obito. It was admittedly minimal, bare in comparison to the entries before and after his. He had been born to a respectable career Jounin who had died less than two years later. There was nothing of his mother, childhood, or early career. Judging by the other records she had read, that meant that the Uchiha had found there to be absolutely nothing of value about him.

She re-read his entire entry and cringed, because it was two lines.

Uchiha Obito, born in the 90th year of the ninja. Died in service to the Sandaime Hokage in the 104th year of the ninja.

Ill at ease, she closed the book on the unsmiling academy graduation portrait of a disconcertingly small child who did not entirely remind her of the man she knew. There was nothing useful for her here.

It was hard to feel anything less than sympathetic with Obito's reluctance to return to Konoha when looking at that bleak record of his life and death.

'Is that how they think about me?'

Maybe. Maybe not. They certainly hadn't discarded her as easily as they had Obito, but they hadn't hidden that they had use for her.

Which was fine, honestly. The last time she had bet that someone would help her because he cared for her- well, she'd gotten burnt on that, hadn't she? Practical motivation was easier to predict. She was useful to them, so they would keep her alive. Konoha wasn't so stupid as to waste a perfectly good soldier of some small amount of political importance.

She felt her lips press into a grim smile. At the risk of being arrogant, she wasn't just a perfectly good soldier the way Obito had been. She was a symbol of Konoha's political legacy- the fourth Hokage's child.

'Not to mention badass in my own right. If they really want to make sure I re-learn the Hiraishin and make me exponentially more frightening…' Aiko shrugged, gathering up her belongings. 'That'll be fine. They don't even know I have the Rinnegan. What would it even be like to have Hiraishin and that?'

She didn't waste time in day-dreaming. All Aiko needed to know was that one day very soon self-determination would be within her reach. If she had enough power, no one would be able to use her again. Tools and techniques were one kind of power, but information and alliances were another type of power; one that that she needed altogether more.

And Uchiha Sasuke looked like a surprisingly weak point in Konoha's armor. Another girl might have been charmed by his unexpectedly diplomatic, tolerant response to finding her defacing his family's property.

Aiko saw his small, silent kindness, and chose to judge it possible vulnerability. That naivety was rather unbecoming in a kage's right hand.

'He'd be a good one to befriend.'

The poor phrasing of her thought struck her with enough force to make her cringe. Maybe 'friend' wasn't the right word for what she intended. Putting her idea in those terms made her feel scummy- it made her feel like Obito. That had been what he had done, after all. Befriended her for his personal gain.

'But that was to my detriment. I won't hurt Konoha or anyone in it. I just don't want them to hurt me.'

#vapors #uzumaki aiko #electrasev5n #ninja daily #fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #clarity