Seven Days Until an Obsession Grows

Danzo searched the intel stacked on his desk and noted nothing of immediate worry. There was the occasional skirmish on the borders, the regular update on the state of the council and the Hokage, a handful of rogue ninja spottings, and no incidents that could lead to an international affair.

'A pity,' he thought. Several chances for Hiruzen to make himself the fool in front of his people, and all of them missed.

He eyed another particular pile of folders on the corner of his desk—placed there in the morning by one of his members and linked through from Hiruzen himself. They were the files of all the approved genin participants and, as he flipped through them, his lip didn't curl up in disgust until he neared the end.

Aburame Shino. Inuzuka Kiba. Sakura.

"You old fool," he hissed to himself. "Your constant stream of missions qualified them, not hindered them!"

He slammed the files onto the wooden surface and stood so quickly his chair nearly toppled behind him. Danzo snatched his cane from its lean against the wall behind him and walked out of his office.

He was immediately flanked by the taller, stockier-built operative Monkey and junior operative Lion.

"Report," he demanded as they weaved through the dreary corridors.

"A greater concentration of Sunagakure participants have entered the Chuunin Exams this year. It is a slight cause for concern as it is a sudden change in the pattern recorded over the last ten years," Monkey informs. He and Lion, though different heights and hefting different gaits, mirror each other's steps and stay exactly three paces behind Danzo. "The same issue lies with the level of Otogakure participation. Numbers of over three times the predicted amount have been noted. Oral account completed."

Lion picked up where the other left off without a second to spare. "There have been increased sightings of Orochimaru over the last three and a half months. No threat has been confirmed, but investigations are still underway. Oral account completed."

Danzo's mind stalled slightly at the thought of Orochimaru interrupting the exams. Surely that man would turn the village on its head one way or another, and—he had to admit—doing something along that vein during what could be the busiest and most politically fragile time was certainly... opportune. It was nothing he wished on his village, but that man's cunning was something to be reckoned with. And though he wasn't sure of what to make of Suna's sudden surge of competitors, it was nothing he currently cared for. Especially not with the current happenings of the ridiculously annoying Team Eight and the ridiculously incompetent Third Hokage.

"Reports," he snapped. Two stacks of paper appeared at the same time on both his sides and his free hand snatched them up. He knew they contained the important, in-depth details of the mission he assigned Monkey and Lion and it was weeks upon weeks of tireless information gathering, yet the gleam in his eyes was bright as they combust in his grip and their ashes trail along the concrete floor.

Fire etches deep cut shadows in porcelain masks, accentuating darkness under eye slits and hollowed out cheeks.

"There is no Orochimaru, no surge or participants, no cause for worry. You will not inform others of your findings and you will not bring it up with your associates."

"Order received. Compliance understood."

"—Order received. Compliance understood."

Lion's delayed response was an almost unnoticeable slip, but Danzo didn't do almost. When he suddenly stopped and the accompanying ROOT members followed suit, their heels tapping together and their arms crossed behind their backs, he turned to Lion.

"Know reluctance serves no purpose here. Prepare yourself for another Cognitive Evaluation with your seniors."

This time, Lion didn't hesitate in his words. "Order received. Compliance understood."

His voice was too soft. Too bland. Too young. But no one standing there thought anything of it, because in ROOT, there was no such thing as too young. If there was, they would've been too young to have been taken, too young to have been exploited, too young to forget what having a name meant.

Too young to forget what that name was.

"Dismissed," Danzo said. As he continued down the hall and Lion and Monkey returned to resume their duties, none—perhaps least of all Lion—noticed the mustard seed of doubt that made its new home in Lion's chest.

Sometimes a tree took a thousand years to grow.

But waiting for it was always the only option.

Six Days Until the Blackbird Crows

When Itachi stepped into his partner's apartment, it was to the sight of a packed bag tossed carelessly onto the couch and a pot of something steaming on the stove.

"Chuunin Exams got moved up a month earlier than usual. No idea why," Kisame said as he shut the front door and went back into the kitchen to turn off the stove. "I'm leaving tonight and should be back—I dunno, month, month and a half? Leader-sama knows I'll be gone so you'll probably get stuck on a buncha solos for a hot minute. Sorry 'bout that."

"And you informed him of where you'll be?"

"Just told him I got business. He won't care as long as I get back when I say I get back." Kisame shrugged. "Besides, it's not like he gives a shit about what we do with our time. Stew?"

"No, thank you," Itachi politely refused as he took a seat on one of the kitchen stools, watching as a kettle was placed on the stove. His partner hadn't asked about tea, but he supposed he didn't have to. Even if he were to deny the gesture for a cup, there was no way he'd refuse one if it was set before him to take.

He wondered if he was always this easy to read. Then, he wondered if this was just something fathers did.

Either way, he wouldn't know.

"Solo missions I have no quarrel with, but Leader-sama allows for such an extended absence?"

"I've been working under him too damn long at this point," Kisame answered with a sharp grin. "He's gotta let me off the leash someday."

That wasn't true, but they acted like it was.

The pot on the stove was covered and the kettle wasn't quite steaming, so it was quiet in the small, worn apartment. They got along well enough that conversations and companionable silences served the same purpose, both chasing off the ghosts that haunted them. Seafood stews and too-watery tea won't ever make up for what could have been, but it was something, and sometimes something was all it took to get out of bed in the morning.

Itachi nodded as a slightly chipped cup was placed in front of him. "Through your secrecy, I suppose your reason for attending the exams isn't common knowledge?"

"Sorry," Kisame said with a tilted sort of smile. "Don't got much of anythin' to keep 'cept for this."

The Uchiha understood completely and didn't push it any further. But a few moment later, his fingers curled around his cup and he suddenly looked much older than any seventeen year old should be. His eyes turned glassy, shining with the red of his sharingan.

"I... Kisame-san, if it isn't too much of me to ask a favor?"

Kisame lent an intrigued ear. His partner had never asked for a favor before—he didn't seem like the type. "What's up?"

Itachi took one, two, long sips of his tea. "My younger brother resides in Konoha. He's twelve years old, more talented than he ever thought he was, and remains the sole survivor of the massacre. His name is Sasuke." He glanced to the side. "I'm positive he'll make it through the first part of the exams, if not all sections—"

"I'll look out for him," Kisame interrupted, then quirked an amused eyebrow. "Were you about to ramble? 'Cause all you had to do was ask."

Relief settled on Itachi's shoulders as he took a sip of tea. He tried to hide the faint, embarrassed blush that crept up his neck. Ramble. Uchiha Itachi didn't ramble.

Quiet swept in after that, and as Kisame's turned to ladle himself a bowl of stew, Itachi's throat strained against the wet cough that threatened to send him into another hacking fit.

"Itachi-san?"

He looked up. Kisame stared at him with a crease in his brow and a frown on his face. The former shook his head once. "It's fine."

"Seeing a medic won't kill you. Actually, I think seeing a medic is gonna do the exact opposite of killing you—"

"It's fine," Itachi repeated, his voice firm and leaving no room for argument. "It's not getting worse."

It was.

"My lungs are not in critical condition."

Lungs are not supposed to fill with liquid.

He set down his cup and smiled slightly. "I'm not dying, Kisame-san."

But for how much longer?

Five Days 'til Monsters Tear Down the Walls

Kakashi had just told his students that they were competing in the exams.

Naruto flung his arms around his teacher's neck and whooped. Sasuke smirked. Hinata's cheeks tinted pink as she gripped the hem of her jacket in determination.

Asuma told his team of their nomination over their morning tea.

Ino slammed her cup down with stars in her eyes. Chouji nearly choked on his drink. Shikamaru muttered troublesome as he sipped, smacking his friend's back.

Gai exploded onto the training field with a leg high in the air and three participant forms in his hand.

Lee cried tears of youth. Tenten grinned and twirled a kunai between her fingers. Neji crossed his arms with a thought that it was about damn time.

Kurenai, though, had informed her team about their nominations two days prior than the others. Yesterday, they'd submitted their applications. Today, new calluses formed on her team's hands from the 'sudden death' training regime they'd suffered through the day before.

::

"So we're competing and—uh, sensei, why do you look like that? How come you're so mad?"

::

Sakura stared down at her arms and the swathes of weights that kept her from seeing her skin. She almost had to squint at how garishly orange they were, and she didn't have to dig into her brilliant memory to know exactly where Kurenai got them from. She turned her head to her other teammates.

Well, at least she wasn't those two.

::

"Hokage-sama didn't want you three competing."

"H-Huh? Why?!"

::

Shino stood with bent knees, one hand with a kunai and the other wrapped around a pair of legs—legs, which in fact, were connected to the conscious body slung over one of his shoulders. Kiba.

"This is the worst," Kiba grumbled. Red-faced, his hands wound around a brush and a blank scroll. Akamaru barked cheerily from his spot on the ground as he gazed up at his partner's predicament.

"Yes, because the scroll you're carrying is incredibly heavy. My mistake," Shino drawled.

"Are you—are you calling me fat?!"

"Well, I suppose if you aren't carrying a boulder in your pockets, then—"

::

"Because of who we are. Why? You know what we've done. What we've been accused of."

"But what the hell does that have to do with anything?!"

"We conducted fact-based research and dug ourselves a hole so deep that they're re-burying it with us inside. They—" A pause. A pulse. "Higher rank automatically denotes greater access to resources. Keeping our rank down ensures we never get farther than we have."

::

Kurenai chuckled to herself as Kiba flailed in offense and Sakura twitched once more at the horrendously bright shade of her arm weights. She cleared her throat to gather their attention and smiled. "You've all expressed the strengths you'd like to build on, so I created a new physical training arrangement for those interests. And since you've all been able to pass the obstacle course in record time, it was time to kick it up a notch."

::

"He couldn't refuse my nomination because Kakashi-san allowed all three of his genin to participate. I'm thankful. If he hadn't done that, then Hokage-sama could've refused me outright."

::

They were less than impressed. She smothered a laugh.

"If you want to wield heavy weaponry, Sakura, you need to work on your upper body strength. That means weights on your arms and torso to simulate the strain your muscle will take while your legs learn to carry that extra force," she explained. "Shino, if you're going to be a field medic, you're going to need to know how to carry bodies from the battlefield. Kiba will act as your training dummy—" Sakura snorted as Kiba cried out at the injustice— "as you learn to carry a body according to weight distributions and wound placement. Wound placements we'll deal with later, but for now, we'll act as if you're carrying an unharmed, unconscious body."

Shino sagged slightly. "If only the body was truly unconscious." A hand thumped his back and he hissed in response. "Do not think I believe myself to be above dropping you."

::

"What are we gonna do? He moved it up a month 'cause he's a complete ass— "

"Kiba."

"—so what type of training are we gonna get into? Our usual? Our usual intensified? Sudden death mode?!"

"Neither."

The response to that echoed with three different voices and a questioning whine. "Neither?!"

::

"Kiba," Kurenai continued. "You'll need to learn how to create seals under different circumstances, most likely the ones where you'll be jostled and required to multitask. You won't always be Shino's counterweight, but since this is the introductory session, I'd like for you to get a general feel for what your new physical education training entails."

"And that would be...?" Sakura questioned slowly. Kurenai smiled even wider as shuriken appeared in the spaces between her fingers.

"Evasion."

::

"You three aren't inexperienced and haven't been for a while. I can say without a doubt that you all will excel to the final round if you so choose. Training will only be altered on the accounts of your interests."

A hum.

"But 'Sudden Death Mode' does have a nice ring to it."

::

Nestled in the trees, Tenzou watched the group of clumsy bodies that lugged themselves across the training field, barely dodging projectiles along the way. In the middle of their scramble, Kurenai looked behind her and up at the treeline and winked before launching another set of shuriken.

He leaned back against the bark and laughed.

Four Days Until the High King Starts His Fall

Sakura tapped her pen against her desk three times before she set it down and stood. She straightened her pile of notes on sword techniques, foreign policy, and rules of the Chuunin Exams before setting it aside. She and the rest of her team had already studied what they could and decided the outcomes they each would strive for, given the correct circumstances.

There were three stages they would have to go through: Written, Applied, and the Knockout. What would matter most was the Applied section where it would be decided whether or not the team would advance to the Knockout.

"Except if they decide to include a preliminary round," she said. "Whole teams aren't necessary to get to the Knockout. It's a free for all."

"That's... when too many teams make it, right?" Kiba hummed. He squished Akamaru's cheeks as the latter's tongue lolled out. "What's the pass limit again? Three or four teams or something?"

Shino pushed up his glasses. "Fifteen or more participants automatically require a preliminary round. Why? The Knockout operates on a simple fighter bracket—fifteen or more participants would take too long. The preliminaries would cut down the total by half and by half once more, if necessary." His fingers drummed against his arm. "But if we do take part in the preliminaries, all three of us can't pass. It's too suspicious."

A thoughtful silence fell over the table.

"Well," Sakura started, "there are three different outcomes for the preliminaries: fail, tie, and pass."

Kiba leaned forward. "You guys wanna draw from a hat?"

She ended up picking tie.

Sakura slipped her kunai pouch off her nightstand and strode out the apartment. She half-heartedly noted that Naruto wasn't back at his place and chalked it up to the tougher training him and his team were probably pushing themselves through for the sake of the Exams. They'd been nominated—Kurenai had told them—along with the other rookie teams, including the one under Maito Gai.

And since then, Shino had been collecting information from the insects in the surrounding areas every night. He would have a compiled report for each competing Konoha genin in three days time.

It was late in the afternoon. Sakura passed parting glances at all the foreign shinobi that could be a possible opponent. Two... six... nine... She remembered that there were supposed to be Otogakure shinobi participating this year, but she hasn't seen one in the couple days she'd been walking around the village. Not one.

Maybe she was expecting too much, but they were four days out from the start of the exams and nearly everyone had checked in. It would be in poor taste to not show up and scope out the competition at least three days in advance.

Still, those Oto shinobi were odd. She'd seen attendees from Taki, Kusa, Ame—

Her sharp green eyes caught a possible opponent's gaze as he stood beneath one of Konoha's innumerable trees. His gaze was as cold and uninviting as hers must seem, and she couldn't deny her interest was piqued.

—and now, Suna.

She approached him. "Do you need directions?"

His lips curled distastefully as he regarded her. "No. And even if I did, I wouldn't be asking a brat like you."

"Well," she said, going on carelessly like she hadn't heard the insult. "I can't see the appeal in standing around and doing nothing. Are you waiting for someone?"

He sneered. "Didn't your parents ever tell you not to talk to strangers?"

"Konoha's the 'friendly' village, haven't you heard? There's something to be said about keeping an image."

"Right, an image—that coming from a runt with the stupidest hair I've ever seen."

"Can't always have agreeable genes," she shrugged. "But you can't blame genes for that paint on your face. Did you do that to yourself or did an Academy student go in blind?"

There was no real bite in her tone and even he had to keep the quirks from the corners of his lips.

He extended a hand. "Kankuro," he introduced. "Glad you're not a sensitive bitch like the group of Konoha genin I ran into a couple days back."

"Sakura," she replied in kind as she wrapped her hand with his and shook firmly. "Thanks for thinking me otherwise." When her hand fell back to her side, she glanced up at the pale orange sky. "Do you really need those directions, or are you actually waiting for someone?"

Kankuro huffed a short laugh and jabbed a glove hand behind him. "I'm waiting for a teammate, Sakura the Tourist Guide. Maybe you can show me the directions to the loser's section after your ass gets kicked during the exams." He shifted slightly, the bandaged whatever on his back moving along with him. She pointedly ignored it. "You are participating, aren't you?"

"If they don't disqualify me off the bat for being an eyesore, sure," she replied. Sakura tipped her head so that her loose bun flopped to one side. "Maybe I'll see you again, maybe I won't, but I hope your stay in Konoha doesn't leave you with too many broken bones."

She nodded his way before leaving him behind and meandering down the street. Kankuro watched her go from over his shoulder until he lost her in the crowd—which was quite a feat considering he really hadn't been kidding about that ridiculous hair. Because pink? Seriously? Who even did that?

He turned his head back forward as a slight frown replaced the amused half-smile he had dawned just seconds ago. Okay, so there were some halfway decent Konoha dogs lurking around the village, he shouldn't be that surprised about it. And sure, she definitely didn't take his words even half as severely as—what were their names? Sasate and his whiny team?

Whatever. All that mattered was that they were damn annoying.

"Hey," a voice called. His sister walked up to him, the bottom half of her fan tapping against her calf as she nudged his side. "What was that just now? I saw you talking to some pink-haired nobody—she try to start something?"

Kankuro rolled his shoulder. "Nah, she thought I was lost and offered directions." Temari cocked a brow, but he waved her off. "Seriously, it wasn't any shit. Sakura's probably just another genin in the exams—"

"Sakura? What, you got her favorite color too—"

" —fuck, it's just her name! Lay off!"

"I won't lay off," she hissed as she jabbed a finger into his chest. "We're not here for fun and games, we're not here to make friends, and after you remember what we're here for—" He rolled his eyes— "are you going to be able to do what you have to?"

Kankuro pushed her hand away. Getting shoved from both ends of the sibling spectrum, really, what more could he ask for? "Relax, I shook her hand, not sealed a blood pact. When it comes down to it, I'll do what I have to."

Temari exhaled through her nose and he knew he couldn't stay annoyed at her. There was too much at stake for them to slip up even once, and if that slip up happened, Suna's fall was on them. Or worse, they'd have to answer to him.

Death or death. Not much of an expansive branch of choices.

"Start moving" she said, jerking her head down the road. "If we don't hurry, Gaara..." she trailed off as she bit her lip. "Gaara will get upset."

That name in itself was enough to send a foreboding slink up his spine. Gaara. Of course. The reason they had to be so damn careful on this mission anyways.

Kankuro sighed wearily and made a sweeping gesture. "Then let's go, I guess. Before we're the ones who end up with their heads on spikes."

As they made their way down the street, he threw one last look over his shoulder before turning back around.

He saw, but didn't notice, the plain, brown-haired boy that scrutinized his every movement. The boy with eyes a bit too green, a bit too sharp, a bit too out of place on his body. Perhaps if Kankuro had looked closer, he would've noticed the slight ripple of a genjutsu that changed brown hair out of its natural pink.

Three Days Until the Cards are Dealt

Naruto slumped forward with a peculiar ache in his bones as he tried to slip his key into the lock on his door. His hands shook and the calluses started to look a little more obvious on his fingers, and he frowned. They hadn't been that bad when he last looked.

Unwittingly, his eyes crept up until they landed on the door to his right. He hadn't seen Sakura in more than a week—not that she had to hang out with him or anything! It'd just be nice or something if they could go get ramen or talk a little bit before exams started.

His cheeks burned. "That's dumb," he muttered to himself as he forced his eyes back to the lock. "Sakura-chan doesn't need ta' hang out with someone like me. She's prob'ly busy."

"Who's busy?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin and swiveled his body towards the voice.

Sakura stood in front of her open door (how did she open it so quietly?!), slouched against the frame and a hand on her hip. She seemed amused, if anything, despite the distinct lack of a readable expression on her face.

He brightened instantly. "Sakura-chan!" That damn lock aside, he rushed over to her side and threw his arms around her neck. She didn't freeze up this time and, though she didn't fully return the hug, she did awkwardly pat his arm in a friendly gesture.

"Naruto," she nodded as he pulled away. She peered at his tired face and sweat-caked skin. "I'm guessing you had an... eventful training session?"

"Yeah! Kakashi-sensei's trainin' us real hard for the exams!"

He missed the way her gaze lit up knowingly, instead focusing on the small, kind smile he gave him. "Good. Maybe it'll make you a decent competitor."

"Hey!"

But his grin faltered when a head poked out of the doorway behind Sakura's bulk. Messy hair, red triangles on dark cheeks—he was unmistakable.

"I thought I knew that voice from somewhere!" Kiba exclaimed. He ducked back inside and shouted into the apartment. "Yo, Shino! I told you it was Naruto!"

A faint voice drifted in from over their heads. "I didn't suggest otherwise, but merely questioned the verity of your statement. Why? It's only natural to assume your wrongness than your rightne—"

Naruto tuned out the ensuing banter as the sounds around him faded and sweat started to collect in the middle of his palms. Right, Sakura had a team and other friends and other priorities. That meant he was only wasting her time, huh?

"—blem." Sakura's voice cut him out of his thoughts. "Naruto?"

He blinked, only now noticing that Shino had appeared in the doorway with Akamaru in his arms. "H-Huh?"

Kiba jerked a thumb down at the street. "We were gonna go get dinner?"

All fleeting hope Naruto didn't know he had streamed out of his bones in one deflated whoosh. Sakura was busy today. "R-Right!" he stammered, forcing a wide smile onto his face. "If you didn't want me to bother ya, you should've said something, ya know?"

All of Team Eight exchanged confused glances with each other before Kiba spoke up again. "Uh, what? Dude, Sakura just asked if you were okay with getting tonkatsu 'cause apparently there's this place that's got this Friday Special where everything on the menu is 30% off from six pm 'til closing."

"It's cheap and allows animals on the patio," Sakura informed dutifully. "Why would I pass up a deal where I don't have to spend more money than I need to?"

Naruto gaped.

"Okay, fine, but that restaurant's like, on the other side of the village!"

"And your legs work. Use them."

Naruto shook his head and took a small, tentative step forward. "W-Wait—"

"For 30% off?!"

"I understand math isn't your strong suit, but I assume you would know that there's a stark difference between 30% off and the normal price. Why? Because it's a concept learned in our first year at the Academy."

"I know that—"

"You guys want me to get dinner with you?!" Naruto blurted. Akamaru barked happily as Sakura crossed her arms.

"Yeah," she said. "If you're fine with leaving now, we should get there before we're caught up in the dinner rush." Her eyes were so green, he noticed, and they weren't lying to him. They weren't like the eyes he knew stared at him in the streets or the eyes that accuse him from behind registers, or the ones that toss him out of shops and stores. "So is tonkatsu fine?"

He was met with four curious stares and he grinned, ecstatic and genuine. "Yeah, 'ttebayo!"

Two Days Until the Fates Have Knelt

'Konoha really needs to up their security,' Kisame thought after he passed through the gates with little fuss. Genjutsu might not be his strong suit, but transformations were something a little more up his alley. With massive chakra reserves at his disposal, it took little effort to apply himself in his endeavors.

Except that if he didn't mask it to normal levels, sensors could find him like ships to a lighthouse. And that masking of his reserves to 'normal' levels left him with only those those 'normal' levels for daily interactions.

Then there was his chakra control. Which wasn't exactly the best.

But he'd have to make due with what he had. He'd been living over twenty years without dying, so it was either good luck or he must've been doing something right.

He settled himself at a nearby cafe and tucked himself into one of the corners as he waited for one of the staff to come by and take his order. His skin might no longer be blue and his teeth might no longer be sharpened to a point, but he kept his large bulk that towered over most (if not all) the people in the village. He still managed to make himself an odd one out, but no one would think a criminal would be stupid enough to not blend themselves in as much as possible.

So for now he wasn't the Tail-less Tailed Beast, but a simple fisherman who wanted to see what all the fuss was about for his little girl who wanted to be a shinobi when she was older.

The cover story was probably a good fit. It was close enough to the truth, anyways.

A waiter came in a little while after. Kisame ordered a couple of shrimp sandwiches and a strawberry shake before sitting back against the plush booth seat.

::

Shino didn't know why he was brought to this cafe. For one, he didn't even know his father frequented cafes such as the one they were currently sat in. The Aburame were thought to be reclusive and certainly lived up to the stereotype, and he'd only started visiting different venues when he started to go out with Team Eight. Granted, those places were mostly cheap bites, had happy hours, or worked with daily specials because Sakura insisted they learn how to spend their money in moderation, but it was still a very un-Aburame thing to do.

Shibi sensed his son's growing contemplation and dutifully elaborated on their outing. "You have been accepted to participate in the Chuunin Exams," he said. "I believed it to be something to celebrate."

Shino narrowed his eyes. "But I haven't... succeeded in anything. Why should I be rewarded for it?"

"It is still an accomplishment."

"Though an accomplishment—"

"Shino," he interrupted quietly. Sadly. "Are you truly suspicious of a father taking his son out for lunch?"

The genin visibly swallowed and lowered his gaze to the menu on the table. "I apologize."

A waitress came by and took their orders, Shino softly requesting salmon skin salad and oyakodon and Shibi with his own sansai udon. She smiled and went off to alert the kitchen of their meals.

A small frown touched Shibi's lips as he turned to look at his son who'd taken to inspecting the ice in his cup of water. Oyakodon? That was a much heavier meal than what he'd usually get. "I did bring you here on account of the exams, that I cannot deny," he said. "But your words from moments ago have only... how should I say... made me worry more."

"Father—"

"You no longer walk with the same purpose you did just after your graduation, you have not visited with the other members of the clan in weeks, and you hide things that I can no longer fathom an understanding to." Shibi's brow knit as his voice started to strain. "There are bags under your eyes and you look so tired I fear... I fear that maybe there will come a morning when you will no longer wake—and even then, how would I learn of such an occurrence? You stay in our house no longer than three days at a time and today is the first I have seen you since Monday."

It was Saturday.

Shino had gone a few shades too light and tried to bury himself in his high collar to no avail, the terrible guilt swirling in his stomach enough to make him nauseous. He knew he'd been distant ever since The Incident, but it wasn't like he couldn't help himself. It was something he and his team had gotten themselves into, and it was something only he and his team were going to get themselves out of. Until they found a solution to their little problem, they had to keep as many people out as possible.

It was a shame Kurenai found out, though he supposed it was only a matter of time, but everyone else? His father? Kiba's mother and sister?

He couldn't do that to them.

"Please, Shino," his father whispered. "Tell me what is going on, please—I can do nothing if I know nothing."

Shibi's eyes were pleading, worrying, and something inside Shino's chest died at the sight of his father on the brink of tears. He wanted to tell him everything—the blood that'd been shed, the bodies that rotted away, the seals that burned their tongues.

But he couldn't.

He couldn't make another target.

"There's nothing going on," he said, the unconvincing lie slick between his teeth. His father sighed tiredly and looked away. "If there was a serious problem, I would have long since informed you of it."

Dubiously, Shibi turned his head back to quietly regard the boy who sat on the other side of the table but felt so, so far away. "Would you, truly?"

The waitress came back with a tray and a smile as she placed their orders in front of them, bidding a cheery enjoy! before retreating to carry out her other duties.

They ate their meals in silence and Shibi, through all his terrible memory, never forgot that Shino never gave him an answer.

::

Kisame chewed one of his sandwiches thoughtfully and mentally cycled everything he just heard.

Aburame Shino, he knew that name. His pup's teammate.

He wondered if whatever was going on with him was something he needed to look into.

One Day Until the Dawn of the Bittersweet

"These are going to be the most trouble. In terms of physical capabilities, at least," Sakura said as she held up three of Shino's handwritten files. She sat in the corner of her bed and leaned against the joining point of two of the walls, a pillow in her lap and Akamaru curled at her ankles. "Uchiha Sasuke, Hyuuga Neji, and Lee. One could say they're guaranteed the chuunin rank based on their stats and the rumors that've been going around."

Kiba's back was on the ground with his legs kicked up against the side of the bed and his arms high in the air as he twisted an inked scrolls back and forth, scrutinizing it. "So we make sure if we go up against them, we lose. Got it. Anyone who's gonna play mind games?" He squinted. "Dammit, where the hell am I s'pposed to put that locking sequence?!"

The floor could barely be seen anymore, so littered with the secondhand cushions and saggy beanbags they'd managed to find at a couple of yard sales and thrift stores. They were old and stained, but clean and comfortable and they definitely made it a hell of a lot easier for three people to sleep in a small room with a single twin sized bed.

"Yamanaka Ino. The Yamanaka have a distinct technique that, in its simplest terms, plant their consciousness in the mind of their choosing. The best ways to repel such a technique is to keep them distracted or disoriented." Shino twisted around from his spot on a yellow polka-dot cushion and reached into the pocket of his jacket that hung on the desk chair alongside Kiba's. "Our minds are off limits. Why? The risk of discovery is too high—we must avoid Yamanaka-san at all costs."

"And Nara Shikamaru," added Sakura. "He's lazy, but his intelligence might be the highest I've seen in Konoha. When he's around, no prying, observing, or acting different than what he expects of us."

Kiba threw his scroll somewhere behind him and rubbed his eyes. "So we avoid Shikamaru too. Awesome. Anyone else?"

She picked up a few more notes. "For the others you need to worry about their signature moves. Hyuuga Hinata and her clan's taijutsu style and kekkei genkai, Akimichi Chouji for his clan's body weight manipulation, Tenten for her weapons mastery, and Naruto for his shadow clones and the Kyuubi."

Four silencer seal tags stayed mounted above their heads.

Shino flipped through his copy of the Bingo Book, one Sakura had given him a few days ago after she lifted three off some unsuspecting gate guards (Konoha's security was commendable). He searched the pages until he reached the Top Twenty and found a set of yellow eyes on paper, disgustingly cheerful and sickening in their mockery.

A deep-set hatred throbbed in the back of his head. "What do we do," he started slowly, and Sakura's and Kiba's attention moved to him, "if something we don't account for becomes a problem? Iwa deciding to continue the war they started? Uchiha Itachi making another appearance? Orochimaru paying his old village an unwanted visit? The Chuunin Exams are the most chaotic and unstable in terms of organization and the last two have been noted as possible threats in the Aburame Clan meetings. If I were planning something, it would be the perfect time to strike."

Shino was too busy considering the book and Kiba too occupied in thoughts of mottled skeletons and experiments that they didn't see the tightened line of Sakura's jaw at the last name, nor the way her fingers creased the neat pages of research.

Akamaru raised his head to whine questioningly, but halted as she pressed a finger to her lips and shook her head. There was a quiet fear in her eyes, murky in the way only a person who grew up in horrors could be.

Just as quick as her dread came, it left, and Akamaru reluctantly lowered his head back onto the covers with another secret on his tongue.

"If any of them show, we do what we can," said Sakura. Kiba fully sat up, incredulous.

"What, you got a plan? 'Cause if you do, I'm in."

"It's illogical to jump into agreements without listening to all the conditions first," Shino reprimanded. He turned his gaze to the other. "Elaborate?"

She said nothing for a long few seconds before she shrugged. "We wing it."

Kiba burst into laughter as Shino's face fell at such an answer, but he knew he couldn't come up with a better answer and sighed. Sakura slipped off the bed and sat between her two teammates. "If we need to reveal ourselves, we stop it from being an incident. We keep it out of sight, under wraps, away from investigation. And just like everyone already thinks, we're plain, unmentionable Team Eight."

Kiba grinned and put a fist forward. "A hotheaded idiot."

Sakura did the same. "An antisocial book nerd."

And Shino. "The class creep."

"We'll get through it," Kiba said. "We got through everything else."

"And we're not going to die here," promised Shino. "Why?"

Their hands unclenched as they reached out and grasped each others' wrists, fingers, arms, tangling their limbs together and resolving to never let go. The tops of their heads met in the center, and Akamaru huddled in their middle.

Sakura's grip tightened. "Because the weak are meat, the strong eat."  

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With a perfect link to this chapter's parting line, we have beautiful fanart by WattPearl!

A wonderful collab by titania030 and WattPearl! (lineart by titania030 and color by WattPearl)

Another work by WattPearl , but this time for Akatsuki Babysitters [Rewrite]!

A fantastic work submitted by Bianxxc (is this your username? If so, please confirm! I only have this name based on your email.)

A terrific fanart by cyanthemangle on tumblr

Awesome fanart by clowncunt on tumblr!

And last, fanart and a cover for Otokage by AHAHA8P !