Kurenai stood on a far walkway that overlooked the tops of the trees of the Forest of Death. Her team never had an internal dispute before, and though she knew it was normal in genin teams, it was nothing like she expected.

They were still kids who were learning about the world and who they were, and there was nothing wrong with a couple spats every now and again. But these kids united in a fight against injustice and everything the Will of Fire wasn't; scorned for the truth and fighting an uphill battle with all the odds against them. She'd never seen anyone grow as close as them in such a short time, and she'd certainly never thought she'd meet shinobi that took only a few months to learn they'd either die as one or not at all.

Both concepts were equally as troubling.

"Oh, Yuuhi-senpai! Did you see off your team for the exams?"

Her team's old school teacher (Umino Iruka, she quickly supplied) approached her with a few files tucked under his arm. He was probably on an errand of some sort, though it was a ways away from the Academy.

"Umino-san," she greeted politely. She turned back to gaze at the forest. "That was my plan, but my team did an excellent job of avoiding me. Could I have taught them too well?"

He chuckled nervously. "Er, I came across Inuzuka-san a few days ago. He seemed rather upset... He didn't even realize Akamaru wasn't with him when I found him lounging around in his old classroom."

"No?" Kurenai frowned. So maybe their fight was worse than she originally calculated. Iruka saw the look on her face and waved his hands in front of him.

"I-I'm sure they'll be fine! Do they normally get along well?"

"Well enough," she answered vaguely. Shaking her head, she diverted the conversation back to the exams. "I tried getting closer to the testing location to see if they were acting more standoffish than usual, but the seals put up were quite impressive. I didn't think the Intelligence Division specialized in such work."

Iruka rubbed the back of his head with a bashful smile. "It, uh, wasn't the intelligence division! Some of the guard platoons and I were requested to set up the seals for the perimeter," he admitted. Kurenai, pleasantly surprised, faced him fully. "It's no-nothing great! I've always had a knack for fuuinjutsu, I just don't employ it as much since it's not standard curriculum at the Academy. I do get requests from Hokage-sama sometimes, but not too often."

"Don't slight your abilities. Fuuinjutsu is an intense study, and anyone who can pick it up should be proud," she said. She noted to bring it up to Kiba after the second exam; it wouldn't be bad if he had an actual teacher and she wasn't much help in that field. She would have never guessed Umino Iruka would be at all proficient in the sealing arts, but it seemed she wasn't the only one who overlooked the career chuunin. But she quickly chided herself—as much as she disliked the Hokage, she couldn't deny his eye for talent. Being in charge of perimeter security was no small task. She'd be a fool not to jump on an opportunity that could benefit at least one of her students—after all, they were the ones who taught her not to act so much on her preconceptions.

"Yuuhi-senpai?"

She lent an ear back to Iruka.

"It's probably not my place to say, but I think your team will make it out just fine," he stated firmly. "Inuzuka-san and Sakura-san have been undeterred by anything for a long time and Aburame-san is resilient in his own right. The sun might as well rise in the west before they're beat down by anything."

Kurenai returned his sentiment with a smile, the thought of her team warming her heart. "That's true, I suppose." She glanced over the green trees. "I just hope I'm not worrying too much."

::

They did not make five minutes into the exam without incident. So focused on creating a wide berth between themselves and the fence that surrounded the forest, they had not anticipated any early, brutal attack so soon.

And in particular, they didn't expect an attack by those who weren't even participants in the exams.

They came out of the shadows and melted into existence like wraiths. Unseen and unheard, they nearly succeeded in their first attempt at drawing blood if the taut paranoia in their targets hadn't been on the verge of snapping.

Sakura grabbed both Shino's and Kiba's sleeves mid-leap between branches and took them towards the ground. They all swan-dived into a crashing heap of grass, limbs, and panicked confusion.

"What the fuck—" Kiba snarled angrily, but abruptly cut himself off when he rolled over and heard the thunk of kunai in the trees they were by mere seconds ago. He didn't have time to voice his shock when another barrage was fired their way.

He and Akamaru flipped out to the right—a quick glance in Sakura and Shino's direction assured him they were both unharmed—before taking the cover at the lowest hidden point they could find.

Shino's insects had already been dispersed the moment the exams started, spanning across a constant ten meter radius and saturating the air with a faint buzz as he tried to pick out their assailants. If their enemy was able to avoid him, they were far more skilled than they should be. A cluster of black bugs situated themselves on one side of his face as they pulsed chakra from him to the swarm and from the swarm to him.

"LEFT!" he shouted down where Sakura stood with a kunai in her hand. She swiftly re-positioned her stance and raised her forearms in time to block the foot that swung towards her head. She latched onto the shin of her opponent and used it as a pivot to careen her lower body into whoever's chest it might be.

Her ankle was caught and she was slammed into the ground.

Another body plunged into the scene, as cloaked and shadowed as the first, and drove a heel down to where Kiba's head would've been if he hadn't flung himself to the side. Nails elongated and fangs sharp, he aimed straight for the throat.

'Get the carotid arteries, cut the both of them, stop the blood flow to the brain—'

In that moment he'd never been so thankful that Shino recited his anatomy texts out loud.

The stranger tried to pull a tanto from the sheath on their back, but stumbled when the dog (they'd forgotten about the mutt) sunk its teeth into one of their Achilles tendons. Kiba lunged but still wasn't fast enough and only managed to catch their hood and tear it from their person.

A porcelain mask fashioned into the likeness of a panther stared back at him.

Kiba, with all the rage he'd bottled up, howled.

Shino finally organized his insects to act as his eyes and ears and settled them on each of his teammates to act as system analysts, then wrought to formulate a plan with what little he had to work with. Kiba and Akamaru were all over the place trying deal with one—Panther—and Sakura was struggling to hold her own. They both were.

Shino didn't have much time.

Sakura sustained minimal injury with what looked like a fractured ankle and a few cuts. She was quick on her feet despite the circumstance, dodging and blocking more so than attacking.

Smart, considering that their enemies had to be ROOT operatives.

Danzo's work.

The angry curl of his lips crept up automatically as he blinked away the red edging in on his vision.

Focus.

She had five, maybe seven minutes at best until she was overpowered completely. Kiba, on the other hand, would reach exhaustion quicker now once the anger-fueled adrenaline wore out. Three minutes at most. Shino needed to get to him first even if there would always be a leverage of three shinobi against two.

One of the four rules that governed medic-nin stood out on the forefront of his mind.

Second Clause: No medic-nin shall ever stand on the front lines.

Shino pulled out kunai anyway and rushed Kiba's attacker from behind.

Sakura growled when one of her attacker's weapons made a clean slice across her cheek. Their hood had been blown back, a buffalo mask greeting her in silence and blood, and it took every fiber of her being not to absolutely lose it.

She ducked and blocked a whirlwind of punches before she vaulted over Buffalo's head. Of course it was Danzo and, by extension, the thoughtful Hiruzen. They were already none too pleased at Eight's entrance in the exams, and if Orochimaru could saunter around to his heart's content, why couldn't they?

She grasped the back of Buffalo's neck only for smoke to filter through her fingers. There was nothing, then there was a hand that latched around her throat and hurled her into a tree. For a split second she saw stars and her head throbbed—

—and suddenly she was submerged, that hand held just out of touching range from the water prison she'd been encased in.

She was good at holding her breath. It wasn't just a trait of her father but of Ame-nin in general, so she shouldn't have to worry.

But she did, because if they weren't here to kill her and her team then they wouldn't be here at all.

Panther punched Kiba in the stomach, uncaring of the blood hacked onto their arms guards and smashed a knee into the chest of a downed Shino. Opponents temporarily neutralized, they took the time to run through a string of hand seals and aimed towards the water prison.

"Raiton," they intoned dully. Shino gasped for air and Kiba wiped the red that dribbled down his chin. "Jibashi."

A wave of lightning consumed the prison and Sakura screamed, water relentlessly flooding her mouth.

It was silent for a heartbeat.

Then two things happened at once:

First, fueled by adrenaline and rage, Kiba drew on the last of his energy—him and Akamaru both—and charged Buffalo. Forget the arguments between them, forget the fear, forget his doubt. She was part of his pack, and he'd be damned if he let anyone hurt pack. "GATSUUGA!"

Second, Shino forced his hands to come together, formed the ram sign, and let his body phase through the ground. He wasted no time in resurfacing and drove a kunai into Panther's calf as he sent insects to invade the new wound.

Sakura collapsed ungracefully onto the ground as the earth cracked beside her and Buffalo jumped out the way to avoid a devastating blow. She was twitching—she couldn't stop twitching—and the electricity still stabbed her skin, her muscles, her bones, everything was ringing, everything was too bright, too dark, too blurry, too clear—

Something bent over her, but she couldn't muster the strength to roll over or raise her head. A hand came down to hold the side of her face and, she thought blearily, it was nothing like Orochimaru's. Nothing about it made her want to scrub away at her skin until it was raw and instead, the hand was calloused and shaking as it moved the soaked hair out of her view.

She saw Kiba and his red-rimmed eyes.

"I'm so-sorry!" he sputtered. "I didn't mean—I—I was scared an' shouldn't've said those things—"

"Ki... be... hi-hi..."

"—but I did and I know it's not your fault and you shouldn't've had ta'—"

He was yanked back and into Buffalo's arms. Akamaru cried from his spot beside Sakura, weakly clawing at the ground towards his partner, as one of the ROOT operative's hands covered Kiba's mouth and the other meticulously shattered his left arm in three different places.

Shino was stuck on the other side of the clearing with stinging hands as he held the blade of a flat-tipped kunai from impaling him in the chest. Blood ran onto his shirt and he tried to scrape the last of his chakra and tried to send his insects to his team's aid. He tried and tried and the tanto was only getting closer; his hands were getting cut deeper and the blood was making it too slippery—

He was trying so hard, why was nothing working?!

A sickening, wet eruption echoed in the clearing.

Both Shino and Panther looked towards the sound and found Buffalo's neck in the middle of bursting. Red and flesh rained over Kiba as the body toppled forward and trapped him under the gore.

Shino snapped back to his assailant and caught sight of a different blade that rammed through the middle of Panther's forehead, stopping millimeters from the space between his eyes. A drop of blood fell onto his nose before the corpse slumped into his lap.

He was frozen.

"What's all this now, hm?"

::

Shino, currently the most able-bodied of Team Eight, could no longer feel the sting in his hands as suffused in fear and apprehension.

Orochimaru had just saved them. Orochimaru. Now he stood not two meters away, sword still in the middle of Panther's skull, with a mocking grin that promised nothing good.

He wouldn't have helped them on a whim and didn't do things without preamble, if he remembered Sakura's implications correctly. Everything came at a cost, he knew, but the sick feeling that settled in his aching bones made him guess that until now he hadn't known what cost could really mean.

He pried his gaze away from Orochimaru's disguise and could only watch his team from afar. Sakura spasmed with aftershocks from the electricity and tried to maneuver into any other position but face down. Kiba feebly pushed at the dead body that lay atop him while he cradled his arm.

"Sakura-chan, are messes like this a habit of yours?" Orochimaru tutted in a voice that wasn't his, gliding over to stare down at the girl's prone form. She shook again, and he laughed. "Imagine that—you really would've been dead if dear old Orochimaru-san didn't come to your rescue." He cast Kiba a brief glance. "So children, what do we say after people do nice things for us?"

Shino was silent. 'What is he doing?' Sakura's hands clenched, but she said nothing. A show of defiance. 'What is she doing?!'

Orochimaru took Kiba by the back of his collar and dragged him over with the unnatural smile that never left his face, and he repeated himself. "What do we say?"

Again, nothing. So he twisted the boy's broken arm until his face wrenched and tears started to trickle down his face. Sakura shook with exertion as she finally brought up her head.

"St-Stop," she choked. His grin widened.

"Not the right words, but I think you'll get there."

This time he doesn't stop twisting until Kiba shouted for him to stop, to let go, it hurts, it was too much, please, please, PLEASE—

Shino had never felt his insides writhe so painfully at a sight he was powerless to stop.

"Thank you!" Sakura exploded. Another shock fumbled her grip and her head hit the ground. "Th-Thank... you..."

Orochimaru tilted his head. "Thank you... who?"

"Thank you, Oro-Orochimaru-san," she bit out. The sannin released the arm and let Kiba drop. Sakura, sluggish in her haze, dragged him under the cover of her body so she could shield him from whatever else would come. Orochimaru read her actions and scoffed; how such an ineffective attempt at protection could possibly be interpreted as sweet in anyone else's eyes was beyond him. But his smile soon returned full force when he stared at the two broken bodies at his feet.

There was nothing more comfortable than juggling lives in his hands.

He crouched and picked up Sakura's chin, forcing her to look at him directly. Her face was exhausted and her gaze was half-lidded—she looked nothing like her father but he could see a spark of him in her eyes, all rage and bloodlust and missed opportunity.

Shino's fingers dug into the upturned dirt beneath him.

"You're very welcome, Sakura-chan," he hummed. "But you should know I never do things for free." He was taunting her and she didn't want to fall for it, but there was too much at stake. Too many important people at risk. "What are you willing to offer as payment?"

She subconsciously drew the Inuzuka and the dog closer, and he could've laughed. Poor little Hoshigaki Sakura-chan tempting fate as she was. Not many had the chance to die twice, and one would think she would be a bit more enthusiastic.

The dead should stay dead, but who was he to complain about ninja wrenching apart the natural order of things.

He hummed with excitement, eagerly awaiting her answer as she opened her mouth to say—

Third Clause: No medic-nin shall ever die until they are the last of their platoon.

"I'll do it! I'll offer whatever you want!" Across the clearing, Shino threw himself up to his feet. He swayed as Panther's body slipped off in a sticky trail of blood. "I'll offer anything. Just... Just leave Kiba and Sakura and Akamaru alone."

Sakura's subdued expression morphed into one of dread. "Or-Oroch... no, lea-leave hi..."

Intrigued, Orochimaru let her chin fall and practically slithered over to the final member of the team. An Aburame, he recognized, as he observed the genin trying to keep himself upright. Sakura-chan certainly knew how to pick her circle. "Anything, boy?"

Shino grit his teeth. "Anything. Anything for them."

Tears continued to leak down Kiba's face.

Shino's eyes were forced to adjust to the light when his cracked glasses were swiped of his face and discarded in the dirt. He squinted at the blurred image of a madman's long tongue flickering out against glossed lips.

"Eyes are the window to soul, you must have heard before. It's amazing that you're so willing to risk everything, especially in the face of a man like me—you're quite lucky that I'm in a giving mood." Shino barely registered the fingers hovering over his face. "Excuse me," Orochimaru bid politely, lightly, velvety. "This is your price for your misaligned bravery."

Then all Shino knew was white hot pain when those fingers dug into his right eye socket.

The sannin had an eye in his hand when he turned to appraise the others' reactions, pleased to find Kiba's shocked horror and Sakura's silent fury as she twitched with remnant lightning. He pulled out a vial of preserving fluid, something he'd planned to save for a whole different set of eyes (but plans were always changing, weren't they?) and sealed the organ inside. He'd find a use for it somewhere in his experiments—perhaps he'd save it for something good to honor the boy's spectacular ocular nerve.

Shino fell onto knees as he raised a shaking hand to his face. When he pulled back, a red puddle overflowed from his palm and his vision could not. Keep. Still.

Orochimaru chuckled. Really, Konoha needed to stop raising their children so soft.

He prepared to take his leave, misery and suffering bubbling in his wake, when another thought breezed through his mind. "You three can barely protect yourselves," he crooned. "How do you expect to protect those you care for? If you're the type of shinobi this village breeds, it seems my killing of the Sandaime will be easier than I thought. "

Peering back he expected fear or desperation, but every glare he met was nothing but an encompassed loathing. Bitterness. Revulsion.

Sakura was in the midst of pushing herself onto her elbows, hair unkempt and wild and not quite hiding the chilling green of her eyes. "Kill the... the Hokage?" she repeated. Her lips curved up into a smirk that was more of a grimace as she endured another jolt. "I hate everything you... stand for. I ha-hate everything you... did... I'll hate every... everything you decide to d-do." She inhaled as another wave of dizziness caught up to her. "But if you eve-ever had a con... conscience—" Orochimaru's breath left him in a moment, a rush of unexpected elation taking him from how much hate one small body could hold, monstrous and shrouded in mist— "then you be... better make sure the bastard bleeds."

::

Kurenai stared down at her dango and iced tea with a troubled wrinkle in her brow. She had a feeling that kept flipping in her stomach since the start of the exams, and while it had only been thirty or so minutes since then, she had decided to get a snack to try and calm down.

But it didn't help much. It didn't help at all. She was still so worried and Iruka's kind words had only managed to placate her for a few seconds before her mind sunk back into that familiar dark pit. No matter what happened, this wasn't an ordinary timeline of events. Genin shouldn't get punished for noble action, children shouldn't fear their Kage when everyone else revered him, a team shouldn't suffer the burden of a constant threat from someone who should be worthy of their loyalty.

Her grip tightened around her cup.

And she shouldn't be the only one willing to protect them.

She blinked when a hand appeared and stole one of her dango sticks while a body slid into the unoccupied seat in front of her.

"Most genin sensei are happy to have their team compete in the second part of the exams. You don't seem too thrilled—is something wrong?"

Kurenai smiled and shook her head. "Just the usual sort of stress. I have no doubt they'll pass, but..."

Tenzo nodded around his bite of dango. "I don't blame you. There are teams who don't make it out of the applied portion, and there's a reason why it's required for participants to fill out consent forms. But that doesn't seem like the reason why you're worried. You already knew that." He waved down a waiter and ordered a drink for himself as well as another plate of dango. "Forgive me if I'm prying."

"You're alright," Kurenai sighed. "My team is just... in a rough place. Have been for a while now." She didn't notice his eyes glimmer in understanding. "These chuunin exams are one of the first steps to them getting through it, but I have this feeling..." She shook her head and sighed again. "I just need a distraction. At least until I know they made it to the next section."

Tenzo took another stick, mulling her words over. "Okay." He turned toward another passing waitress. "Excuse me, I ordered dango a minute or two ago. Could I please have those to go?"

"No problem, sir."

He met Kurenai's raised brow with a smile. "Let's go training. Winner gets the rest of the dango?"

She chuckled and grinned, bright with competition. "You're on."

::

Team Eight was, for lack of a better word, drained.

They took refuge at the nearest clearing and had been sitting in silence for a solid twenty minutes. Their hands and feet were coarse with the ashes of the bodies they'd burned and Kiba's storage scrolls were full of weapons and masks pilfered from the dead—something that left a bad taste on their tongues, but was something necessary nonetheless. At least at the moment.

Shino spent their break time adjusting his vision. His glasses were cracked on the lens that sat over his only eye, and his sudden lack of depth perception only added to his rising ire. Kiba had gingerly pulled his broken arm from his sleeve and fashioned a makeshift sling out of gauze and refused Shino's attempts at healing, saying he'd get it fixed when he knew for sure they were safe.

The first clause of the four rules of medic-nin trampled through Shino's head.

First Clause: No medic-nin shall ever stop medical treatment until the lives of their party members have come to an end.

Then he relented with an understanding nod, letting the green glow of his hands flicker out.

Through their interaction Sakura sat with her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. An occasional jolt shot through her and rattled her bearings, but she acclimated to the pain as she gauged an estimate of when the aftershocks hit so she could brace herself.

Everyone was miserable and they would all end up scarred. And it hasn't even been an hour since the exams started.

Then Akamaru—tuckered out and suffering a handful of broken ribs—growled. Kiba sniffed the air and pinched his temple.

"Guys," he mumbled.

"Irritating," Shino sighed. Sakura said nothing, her back to the genin team that tried to sneak up on them from behind and was failing miserably. She didn't turn when they suddenly screamed, didn't turn as the sound of bodies falling from the trees, didn't turn as the scent of blood got just a little bit tangier.

"Konoha's Flying Leeches can sense body temperature and sweat," Kiba informed the Ame team that had the misfortune of crossing their way. "They swoop down on prey in hordes and in five minutes, you'll be dead." He blinked at them. "But we're tired. And not huge assholes."

Sakura raised her hand to show a few wires wrapped around her hand and yanked. Another chorus of shouts erupted as a thick net hoisted the team up and into the treeline. "I'll get the scroll," she said. She brought herself up onto her good foot with a heavy sigh and spun around.

Shino straightened. "You shouldn't put any weight on your right side. Why? It will worsen your fracture."

"Alright."

"Um, I can get it for you. Since you're not supposed to walk more than you need to," Kiba offered, almost nervous. Sakura stared blankly at him for a few beats before she reached over to flick his nose.

"Rest," she replied simply, then leapt up to the high branches.

Shino knew he'd forever have the sight of half darkness—and it would take a while to adjust when his world is already blurred at the edges, but he couldn't help the small smile at Kiba's relieved slump and the return of Sakura's tentative warmth.

'Anything.'

Orochimaru loomed over him for a moment, but he blinked, and the apparition disappeared.

'Anything for them.'

::

Your younger brother resides in Konoha.

Kisame knew the Forest of Death would be a labyrinth of sorts—it was a circle that was twenty kilometers from end to end with a tower in the center as the only landmark.

He didn't know which gate his pup had started at and he resigned himself to scouring the dense foliage while avoiding the other genin teams. It was a piece of cake; he was an S-class criminal and the only thing he needed to overcome was his shitty sense of direction.

But he came here for Sakura and he'd destroy any obstacle to get to her.

Kisame ignored the pain in his collarbone and stared down the sannin that stood across from him.

He had come here for Sakura, but he got caught up in a promise he made to Itachi.

Orochimaru had the smell of burnt flesh about him now that he was no longer wearing a stranger's skin. He was more pissed and rightfully so after everything that went wrong, but he was smiling. Grinning. Showing all his teeth in such a grisly way that churned Kisame's stomach.

"You got in my way," Orochimaru said. Amusement hiccuped in his chest. "You got in my way to save a boy you don't even know an—" He interrupted himself with a grating laugh. "Well, I suppose it's only fair. My luck has run dry, but yours must be in a drought if fate has you saving my objective when yours pulled the short end of the stick."

Kisame went cold as he shoved aside all that transpired. "What the fuck does that mean?" he said quietly. His killing intent leaked out and he let it run freely. They were far enough away from the Kyuubi boy, the Hyuuga girl, Itachi's—

Orochimaru held his hands up in a placating manner, though all he did only ever seemed to be a byproduct of mockery. "Now, now, I've done nothing to precious little Sakura-chan," he started. His smile went a touch darker. "But that's only because someone did the honors for me."

"You—"

"I was even at the gate beside her team at the beginning and still, I was late," he continued. He scrunched his brow in feigned puzzlement, ticking Kisame off even further. "It's a shame she'll live after the shock she received. That team's a bit roughed up, but they'll heal." He heaved a deep, dramatic sigh. "I don't know how much they will, though. They seemed rather shattered even before I made my grand entrance."

Kisame truly hated this kind of person. It was always a riddle or a game with him, and he'd known to throw away all pretense of getting a straightforward answer when first meeting the snake years ago. Still, it pissed him off. "Get to the fucking point."

"There will be preliminaries with the number of participants that will no doubt pass this part of the exams," Orochimaru said. "I'll be there under the guise of an Oto representative and you will attend alongside me. Second in command? Trainee? I'll smooth along the bumps later down the line." He took a step forward. "It's better to show than tell. After all, won't you want to see what your action—or inaction—has wrought?"

Kisame sneered. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

The sannin's eyes flashed dangerously. "Indulge me. You owe me this much."

"I don't owe you shit."

"After what you've done and what it cost?"

He's twelve years old, more talented than he ever thought he was, and remains the sole survivor of the massacre.

Orochimaru reached over and grabbed the collar of Kisame's shirt, pulling it to the side. He was met with tense muscles, a steely eyed glare, and sharp teeth that'd rip out his throat if he wasn't careful.

"You missed helping your little girl in exchange for helping a brat that has nothing to do with you," he hissed. His eyes roved hungrily over the black ink that blotched blue skin. "You picked to throw yourself in front of my Cursed Seal of Heaven and lived while you almost let your daughter die," he spat. "That's years of work taken, Kisame-kun, all because you let that Uchiha slip from my grasp!"

His name is Sasuke.

Orochimaru opened his hand and took a graceful step backwards. "I'll see you at the Forest of death's Tower. Wednesday, 13:30, top floor." That pale smiled resurfaced. "Try not to get caught. For Sakura-chan's sake, right?"

And once more he was gone in a wisp of nothing.

I'll look out for him, Itachi-san.

Kisame rubbed the seal when it started to itch, his heart falling farther and farther as that asshole's words really began sinking in. Had he come all this way—all this way just to fail her again? And right when he was there, right when he could finally do something about it, he chose to save Itachi's baby brother.

His pup was what mattered most to him. His top priority. His blood, his life, who he lived for.

And she'd almost... died?

The back of his eyes burned at that one thought and the seal itched all the fiercer, but he pushed it down.

It could be a lie. He didn't have to believe a word that came out of that bastard's mouth.

Kisame slung Samehada across his back and took off to try and comb the forest one more time to see if he could catch his pup and her team. Whenever he thought about the possibility of a small body so still, bright green eyes turned dull, pink hair stained red, his muscles trembled with anxiety and his heart would elevate to a thousand beats per minute.

He didn't want to accept that he could've been too late to save her.

But Orochimaru had always been known to taunt with the truth.

All you had to do was ask.

::

Kiba stopped when he sniffed out someone close. Two groups were in the distance ahead of them—one that smelled of dried grain and sawdust and the other like damp soil and welded metal. He informed the rest of his team as such, and Sakura confirmed it as probably teams form Suna and Ame, respectively.

"You've got no hard feelings for your old village, right?" he asked. She shook her head and twitched once.

"I only knew three Ame citizens in my time there," she said. "God, his Angel, and the widow that ran the flower shop."

"God?" Shino repeated skeptically.

"He has a bit of a... complex. The village leader, I mean," she clarified. "He used to watch me when Dad was out and no one else could take care of me." At her friends' twin looks of surprise, she waved it off. "I can tell you more about it later, if you want. You guys deserve to know more about me."

Kiba bit his lip and sniffed the air again instead of replying. "Uh, you guys wanna check it out? It's fine if you don't wanna 'cause we just got, y'know, pretty fucked up back there. But if you guys wanna pass the time since we don't wanna be the first to finish...?"

Shino turned towards the supposed direction of the foreign teams. His eye socket throbbed—not quite healed but cauterized to stop the bleeding—and everything stayed angled slightly to the left.

But in a manner that screamed 'Unlucky Eight', he shrugged. "What more do we have to lose?"

When they arrived just a few minutes to the northwest, Akamaru immediately whined and crawled up Kiba's jacket to hide. With an ability to sense chakra levels to determine strength, his was the team's very own radar, but the way he cowered and tried to bury himself in his partner's chest instantly raised alarm.

Shino summoned some of his scarce chakra to press a few green fingers atop the ninken's head. Healing chakra weaved in to calm his nerves, and once he stopped shaking and his whines turned to silent whimpers, they settled on a well-hidden branch and scrutinized the scene that unraveled before them.

::

Shigure, the leader of his team, wasn't about to tremble at the feet of the bunch of children that so forthrightly challenged them. He might be a genin just like the rest of the godforsaken people in this forest, but he was an Amegakure shinobi born and raised. The Angel didn't waste her energy protecting those who didn't deserve it, and God would have cut him down long ago if he would've brought shame to the village.

He wasn't bitter. He wasn't arrogant. In the face of three Suna brats with the shortest, scrawniest one at the forefront, what else was he supposed to think?

He wasn't naive or presumptuous.

He was practical.

"You should've learned to pick your opponents with better sense," he sneered. "And now you're going to die because of your misjudgment."

"Enough," the red-haired one said emotionlessly. The one dressed head to toe in black crossed his arms.

"Wouldn't it make more sense to hunt them down to gather intel instead of attacking them immediately?" Shigure couldn't fault his reasoning—in fact, why did he have to explain such a simple concept to that smaller kid? Those were just signs of an incompetent shinobi. "If they have the same scroll then we don't have to fight. Unnecessary battles only—"

"They were pretentious when they looked me in the eye. I'll kill them all," the short boy interrupted softly, and the other backed off with a peeved scowl.

Shigure ripped out five of his bamboo umbrellas out the sheaths on his back and sends them high in the air. A simple one-handed sign had them flung open and spinning at sonic speeds, and a flick of his wrist activated the seals to release an unending blizzard of senbon in every single fathomable direction.

He'd teach these punks a lesson or two about conduct.

But his smug grin fell and he faltered when the red-haired kid stood in the same position as he did previously, gaze unwavering and a crackling dome of sand surrounding his body.

His teammates were left to fend for themselves and the blonde one opened some sort of fan to block her and the black-clad one.

"A senbon rainstorm," the boy observed dully. "If you wanted a rainstorm, then I'll make it rain blood."

That was the last straw in Shigure's book. Amegakure shinobi were notoriously short-tempered and as much as he'd like to say he didn't fit the stereotype, he did, and he wasn't going to take this flak from a little shithead that was trying too hard to be intimidating.

He was ticked off and he rushed him, but before he could even make it halfway there, the brat brought his hands together and muttered two words. "Sand Coffin."

And suddenly Shigure was trapped in an unbreachable block of sand as his umbrellas fell back down, piercing Earth. He couldn't feel his legs, his arms, anything—and only his face is left to meet air. The kid plucked one of the umbrellas, opened it, and set it on his shoulder.

"I could cover your loud mouth and kill you. It would grace us all with a quiet death." A pause. "But that would be too pathetic." His hand extended, then made a fist. "Sand Burial."

Shigure wasn't scared. He never is.

But he was aware of the sun on his face, the breath in his lungs, the way he was so wholly alive in an exam that was his to win.

Then there was nothing.

::

Team Eight didn't have the energy to be shocked anymore; Kiba covered the bottom half of his face and grimaced, Shino squinted while moving his head side to side to keep everything in his field of vision, and Sakura watched it all blankly—calculatingly, if anything.

Her father, she recalled, was at the top of her list for the most intense bloodlust she'd ever felt. The way Gaara so effortless killed that shinobi made any of her father's actions seem like child's play, and only because she knew he was at least capable of empathy.

Gaara she wasn't too sure about. Especially now that he was using his jinchuuriki abilities to slaughter without thought.

Beside her, Kiba furiously rubbed at his nose.

That sand smelled awful.

"There was no pain. I crushed him harder than necessary." Gaara quietly relished in the pungent fear that seeped from both his opponents and his team. "His blood mixes with the sand and mingles in the chaos within me, making me stronger."

Sakura cocked a brow. He was a jinchuuriki out of control of his beast.

One of the remaining Ame-nin whipped out their scroll and held it out shakily. "H-Here—take it just ple-please—don't kill us!"

Gaara was silent. He cast aside the sullied umbrella and wound his sand around the other two and quickly killed them in the same manner: no fluff, no bluffs, no mercy.

Kankuro sighed and went to pick up the discarded scroll. His face wrinkled at the stained paper and the way it made his hands damp.

"I haven't killed enough."

Annoyed, Kankuro spun around to glare at his younger brother, but Gaara was too preoccupied in staring down one of the trees at the edge of the clearing. He moved the same way to try and pick out which poor bastards were next on the chopping block, already resigning himself to sitting through another series of these cruel murders.

But then he saw a flash of pink amongst the dark leaves.

And even when the exams are far from over and he's back in the place where the sun bears no reluctance and the sandstorms never end, he'll still wonder for months why that's the sight that spurred him into action.

"Quit it," Kankuro snarled. Gaara's gaze sharpened as his head snapped over to coolly regard his brother. "We have the scroll we need and doing anything else is only gonna waste our time."

"Are you scared, coward?"

The eldest of the two blistered. "It might not be a problem for the 'indestructible Gaara'," he spat, "but it is for us. One set of scrolls is what we need to pass. We don't need more."

Gaara's expression didn't change. It never changed. "I don't take direction from the likes of you."

Kankuro grabbed the body strap that held up his gourd and pulled him up. "I said cut it out, dammit! Why don't you fucking listen to what your big brother has to say for once in your damn life?!"

"I've never considered you my siblings, so do not act so familiar." He looked at Temari who had been silent throughout the confrontation, then stared straight ahead into his brother's angry eyes as he pushed the hand away. "Stay out of my way or I'll kill you too."

"Th-There's no need to say something so cold," Temari tried. "Please, as a favor to your sister? Can we finish the exam?"

Gaara abruptly made a fist and analyzed the way his sister flinched and how his brother grit his teeth, but only the cork of his gourd sat between his curled fingers. "Fine."

He walked away.

Kankuro and Temari breathed out relieved sighs and reluctantly followed after, the latter subtly glancing back to catch even a glimpse of that team.

But all of them—Sakura the Tourist Guide included—were gone.

::

Kotetsu had been summoned to the Forest of Death.

It was unsurprising, he knew rapid-response was part of his duties as a proctor. And this was what he signed up for, so nothing should've caught him off guard.

But it was four hours into the first day and the record for finishing was broken for the second time. They weren't close to that insane Suna team that got through in a mind-boggling hour and thirty seven minutes, but it wasn't estimated that another team would show up in the same twelve hour period.

Once the summoning smoke cleared and he got a good luck at who made it, he stalled.

It was Unlucky Eight.

"Holy fuc—I mean," he cleared his throat and kept up a calm exterior. "Congratulations on passing the second section. You are the second team to meet its completion—" he checks the time— "and did so in four hours and nine minutes. Your team leader will be able to meet you twenty-four hours after this information is documented and filed. Do you require a medic?"

There was dried blood all across Kiba's shoulders and it covered all of what Kotetsu could see of his back. His clothes were torn and he was holding his arm to his body like a lifeline; taking it as the worst case scenario, it was probably more than broken. His ninken (Akamaru?) was limp and unmoving in the front of his partner's jacket, and if it wasn't for their lack of panic, he would've thought the dog was dead.

Sakura was bruised along her face and arms, and her apparel was slightly damp—from falling into the river? Or getting attacked by a water jutsu? A sudden, localized monsoon? He'd guess the first, but he was never too sure about them anymore. One thing he did see though was that she favored settling her weight on her left foot rather than her right.

And Shino... there was blood crusted all over his pants and it caked the right side of his face from the eye downward. His cracked glasses completely covered both eyes and there was no way for Kotetsu to determine if that blood was his or someone else's. Which one was the better choice, he didn't know.

"You know what? Don't answer that," he backtracked. "I'll send an available medic as soon as possible. Go out the doors behind me, take the right hall, and you'll see the infirmary sign above one of the doors. It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes until you can get treated."

Shino nodded and murmured a 'thank you' as he began walking towards the door. Kotetsu watched as Sakura limped by his side and gently guided him by the hand when he sometimes went a little too far to the left more than a handful of times. Kiba eventually took the Aburame's other side and placed his good hand on his shoulder to help maneuver him, whispering something too low to pick up and to be answered by the shake of Sakura's head.

Kotetsu's mouth opened without much foreword, and he asked the one burning question on his mind. "How did you guys make it out of there in one piece?"

Shino stopped and turned back around, the others slowing a bit ahead of him but no less attentive. He was meeting his eyes, Kotetsu knew, but there was always something unnerving about being stared at with eyes that couldn't be seen.

He then tipped his head with an air of genuine courtesy. "We got lucky."

::

It took four hours for Team Eight to make it to the Tower of the Forest of Death and suffice to say, he wasn't content at the bubble of pride that filled his chest because of it. He crept through to the Tower's infirmary and stuck to the shadows. There was barely anyone here and the only things he had to worry about were the cameras posted at the entrances and that Suna team, so he saw no harm in dropping by for a brief moment.

Because all Tenzo wanted to do was congratulate them—for the trials they'd overcome, for the plights they didn't deserve, for being able to succeed in the face of opposition.

Because they deserved at least that much.

But he couldn't have been prepared for the states they were in because he hadn't been expecting such a level of injury.

There were six separate beds in the infirmary and they were all crowded around the one farthest from the door and adjacent to the locked window. Shino was propped up against the pillows with a hand to his eyes, and Sakura sat at the end of his bed with her right leg propped up and a blanket draped across her shoulders. Kiba was in a chair pulled up to them, his arm in a sling and his face planted onto the mattress. All of them were covered in bandages, even Akamaru, and his temple furrowed under his mask as he drew nearer.

When Shino turned to reach the glass of water on the bedside table, he froze at the sight of bone-white armor and a cat mask.

What he didn't notice was that Tenzo froze too because Shino's glasses are off and while one was wide and expressive, the other was an empty socket with dried blood crusted around the edges and tens of tiny insects crawling inside.

Sakura and Kiba looked up almost simultaneously at their visitor and Akamaru practically buried himself in the covers, tired and thrumming with anxiety.

Tenzo held a single finger to his mask over the spot where his mouth would be and deftly drew the privacy curtains around them. Then he presented three immaculately wrapped boxes of brown paper and twine.

Sakura huffed. "So it really was you."

Tenzou wasn't sure if he should be embarrassed for being so transparent, but when he watched them open their gifts and light up, he couldn't find himself to care. He'd gotten them a little more... functional things than what he decided on before, since the more time he's been spending with Kurenai resulted in learning a lot about her kids.

They'd given him so much without really knowing him in turn, so this had to be the very least he could do.

Kiba took out his present first, inspecting the two ornate red rectangles he found. They were iron-cast and when he flicked one open, he jumped when it opened into a weaponized fan. A tessen.

Sakura tossed hers from hand to hand before she tore off the packaging. It was a bit dense and clinked when she moved it, and after she opened the box and tipped it into an open hand, a black chain with weighted crescent-shaped grip at each end. She recognized it immediately as a kusari-fundo and understood its potential as a hand close-combat tool.

A long cut of fabric was unrolled in Shino's lap and small pockets were sewn in a line, each with a vial filled with something he hadn't had the chance to experiment with. There were fourteen in total, the first seven containing dried herbs he knew were rare, and the last seven held meticulously sealed poisons labeled by serial numbers and a rolled note with its recipe.

"Where did you get all this?" Kiba questioned. He inspected his gift in poorly concealed awe. "Why're you even—what are you gonna get out of this? We're just a buncha genin brats."

"Who did the right thing at the cost of themselves," he added quietly. Shino's grip tightened around his new poisons kit. "The kindness you've shown me can never be repaid."

"We didn't do this for payment," Sakura insisted. She thought of all too pleased Orochimaru who only saved them to ruin them himself, and she fumed. They would never do anything like that—they would never become like him. "You're going to get yourself in trouble if you keep this up. We're not worth that."

"Perhaps," Tenzo admitted. He observed their wary faces and their hunched shoulders as if they were preparing to attack. "But if I were to get caught, it would be my own choice to support those who didn't deserve what had been done to them."

Kiba gaped at him in near disbelief.

"So you trust us?" Shino asked.

"I have no reason to believe otherwise."

Team Eight exchanged looks with one another and came to a silent agreement. Sakura exhaled quietly and prepared herself to give another vague explanation. He was still not to be inherently trusted as one of the Hokage's most trusted operatives, but giving him the benefit of the doubt—

There was the sound of heels coming from down the hall. Tenzo drew back the curtain and disappeared and the team hid their gifts before a medic walked into the infirmary and smiled.

"I'll be doing one more healing session for today, and the next one we'll do tomorrow morning, alright?"

Tenzo took his leave from the room and out the Tower.

Whatever they had to say, he hoped they have the chance to tell him later.

::

At night Sakura excused herself and went to the roof for some fresh air. Her hair was out of its bun and the cool breeze was nice against her newly healed skin.

"You look like you got run over and if I'm speaking honestly, it's a good look."

She was gazing at the sky when Kankuro approached. While she was sat on the railing with her legs dangling over the edge, he leaned against the metal just out of arm's reach.

The corner of her lip quirked. "Thanks. The dirt really brings out my eyes."

"Right," he snorted. "I guess I'm not surprised your team made it even if it looks like ten of those giant centipedes tried to rinse your asses."

"I wouldn't say bugs were much of a problem. Just some rats and a snake."

He lifted a brow. "You saw a snake?"

"One," she said. She held Kankuro's gaze until he nervously looked away. "But it's over for now. There's still four and a half more days to this section; anything can happen."

They were silent for a while, the only interruptions being the occasional cries of fighting and the echoes of traps being tripped throughout the grounds.

Kankuro was in deep consideration the entire time, his eyes flickering back and forth until he spoke up. "Gaara could've killed you earlier."

"But he didn't."

"He was ready to—"

"And you stopped him," she replied simply. She turned to regard him curiously. "Why?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, looking lost and guilty as he avoided her eyes. "I don't know."

She took his answer with a small nod. "Okay." Then a little quieter and more sincerely, she said, "Either way, thanks."

"... Yeah." He turned away and continued on more obnoxiously. "If the only tourist guide I knew died out there, who else is gonna show me around this shit hole? Everyone else is damn annoying."

"Sure," Sakura agreed. "What about a tour around the Forest of Death? I hear the greenery is illus-tree-ous this time of year."

The look of visible pain on Kankuro's face is enough to send her into a fit of laughter, all her problems gone for a heartbeat as she allowed her exhaustion to sink in and herself to be lost in a small moment of peace.

::

There was an uproar in the Hokage's office, but all she could hear was her fear.

A team from Kusagakure was dead and Orochimaru was to blame.

The exams couldn't be cancelled because they were too far along, and they only thing they could do now was endure.

Everyone was arguing.

The Hokage was demanding order.

And the only thing Kurenai could think about is what Shino told her so few days ago.

"Sakura found a viper in the grass."

Her hands curled into fists to keep her fingers from trembling.

Orochimaru entered the exams disguised as a Kusa-nin.

::

We end with a wonderful fanart by fandomsunite4201!

An awesome fanart for Stumble [Rewrite] by Asuna_Ayase!

And a fantastic fanart for Shinobi by WattPearl!