Chapter 16: from ash to soil

The Nara Heir is staring at him.

Kakashi feels oddly unsettled by this, despite the fact that said Nara Heir is an eleven year old child nowhere near his skill level. It's those piercing amber eyes — Kakashi has no doubt the kid could orchestrate his murder without breaking a sweat. Shikamaru is a Nara, after all.

It's the first time Kakashi has really noticed it so blatantly, and with such intent behind the look. The kid is familiar enough with him from the frequent visits when Toshiro lived with the Nara's. They've never really talked though, both content to use Toshiro as the middle man between all their pseudo-interactions. Now, as the gathering of five whole clans takes place around him all throughout the Uchiha Compound (it was their turn to host this month), Kakashi is wondering what on earth he's done to finally earn the boy's full attention.

"Kakashi, your food's gonna get cold." Toshiro nudges his side gently, the scent of mint and ink filtering through his mask. The shorter man is seated beside him on a picnic blanket — one of many strewn around and occupied throughout intersecting Uchiha yards — the fabric patterned in checkered maroon and white. Those bright, blush-pink eyes meet his uncovered one, all open and soft and doing stupid things to Kakashi's insides. When Toshiro smiles it makes Kakashi want to shunshin away or — or vomit.

Or do something even dumber and kiss him.

It's really not fair that Toshiro is blessed with a perfect smile. Seriously, it's completely straight, lips pulling up equally and symmetrically — his mouth filled with sparkly, snow-white, perfectly aligned teeth. When he smiles wide enough, it pulls at his cheeks and his nose scrunches a little, and his freckles seem to shift.

It's just.

A lot to look at.

Kakashi's smile is crooked. He doesn't actually look at his own face very often, but he knows that much. Smiling wide also just leads to skin tugging and twisting at the left side of his face because of the scar, and that can't give him very many points in the looks department. His hair is also gray, his eyes droopy, skin pale and heavily scarred — hands especially. He's like a fading ghost! How could he ever possibly compare to a man who glowed like sunshine incarnate, with hair like spun gold — the artsy, aged kind of parchment yellow used for old portraits — aristocratic and faint, shimmering under the daylight?

He's a walking corpse next to a supernova.

Toshiro shifts and a lock of that pale, washed-out gold slips over his shoulder and brushes his freckled cheek. Kakashi pushes it back without thinking. The other man looks nice with his hair down and tucked behind his ears, strands still stubbornly slipping out and framing his pretty, heart-shaped face.

Toshiro rolls his eyes at the action, cheeks faintly pink to match his eyes. "I should've brought my headband. This is the third time it's almost gotten into my yakisoba. Maybe I should just cut it..."

"Absolutely not."

The man levels him with a look that's too fond to be truly exasperated. "It's midway down my back, Kakashi."

Kakashi resolutely does not tell Toshiro that he looks beautiful with long hair, nor does his expression give away the extremely perverted thoughts he's had about pulling said hair as he does very wicked things to his friend.

"Trim it, then. No one will recognize you with short hair. Everyone will be devastated." Is what he says. "Besides, it suits you."

Those freckled cheeks burn a deeper pink, edging on scarlet. It makes Kakashi's heart do very concerning things. (It makes him want to know what other parts of Toshiro's body can flush that color.)

"If you say so," the younger man replies, eyes flickering to the side as a bashful grin plays at the corners of his stupidly symmetrical mouth.

Kakashi suddenly remembers he's being watched.

Nara Shikamaru stares back at him from his position some five feet away, completely unimpressed, with one eyebrow raised and an expression on his face that reminds Kakashi that the kid is not just Shikaku's, but Yoshino's too.

Shisui calls for Toshiro and the man gets up, plate empty and yakisoba eaten. "Try not to socialize too much," He teases, then strides away to the exuberant Uchiha that occasionally reminds Kakashi of Obito. Enough to semi-tolerate the man, even if the touchy-feely way he is around Toshiro is profoundly annoying.

Shikamaru is still staring.

Kakashi feels a shiver of dread rattle down his spine. Those eyes are far too conniving and assessing, more than any eleven year old has the right to be. And Kakashi was a Chuunin at six.

"Hm." The boy murmurs. "I see." He then gets up slowly, as if he has all the time in the word, acting like an old man even at his young age.

And.

Leaves.

Kakashi watches him wander over to the cult — sorry, gaggle — of children without much speed, lazily sauntering in a way that does not remind Kakashi of anything remotely deer-like. Because deer are prey animals, and that's the walk of a predator.

Right?

….Right.

He lets out a breath, somehow feeling as if he's just barely scraped by with his life. Across the yard, Naruto slings his arms around Shikamaru and clings to the boy like a leech. The Nara Heir lets him, one arm curling around Naruto so they don't disbalance and fall to the ground. It's a practiced movement, one likely born out of repeated meetings with the dirt after being faced with the full brunt of Naruto and his slightly endearing inability to understand personal space.

Kakashi's eye narrows.

They seem….chummy.

Maybe he'll have to tell Naruto that dating isn't allowed until he's at least thirty and Hokage. No hand-holding until after marriage. He will literally kill someone to preserve Naruto's innocence, because he's already terrified of what Minato-sensei and Kushina will say to him in the afterlife for neglecting the boy for so many years. If their precious son gets his heart broken, it'll somehow be Kakashi's fault. He just knows it.

Shikamaru meets his eye again, narrowed and contemplative. Kakashi's sense of dread multiplies.

Or maybe I'll just wait.

You don't underestimate a motivated Nara, and nothing gets them more fired up than their loved ones possibly being hurt in any way. Which means the brat has figured Kakashi out and is assessing whether or not Kakashi is going to be a problem.

How absolutely adorable and completely terrifying. As much of a genius as Kakashi knows himself to be (not to brag, but…), the Nara are in a league of their own and Shikamaru is probably one of the smartest to ever come out of the Clan. That kid could ruin Kakashi's life in ways he could never even begin to imagine.

So of course he's claimed himself as Toshiro's younger brother.

Kakashi very carefully puts his uneaten food off to the side, then flops spreadeagle on his back and groans. He wants to go home and die under a pile of dogs.

The day of Uchiha Itachi's promotion to Godaime Hokage was more of a party than an official coronation. At first, it's all very prim and proper. Jiraiya does the official announcement to the gathering of shinobi and civilians all pressed together on the streets like packed sardines. Toshiro feels Kakashi's elbow digging into his side, and the Hatake children are all grouped in front of them on their tip-toes, puppies held to avoid getting stepped on. The day is hot, the sun bright and high in the sky. Toshiro has to make an effort to regulate his temperature with chakra, the heat of the day and heat of so many bodies making everyone sweaty and grumpy despite the looming excitement.

"It's time for Konoha to enter a new age," The Sandaime's voice booms over the crowd, "One that urges us towards the path of peace and change, where we look to improve upon ourselves and become a village we can gladly call our home. On this day, we welcome our next Hokage, the Godaime of Konohagakure." The man steps back, his gaze trailing to the side. "Uchiha Itachi!"

Itachi appears from the shadows, stepping into the light beside Jiraiya and Hiruzen. He's a distant figure on the balcony, but there's no missing the billowing white cloak and hat atop his head that boldly displays the kanji for fire.

Screams of elation fill the air, Uchiha in the crowd howling their joy with the kind of freedom they never allow themselves to show. All reservations are tossed aside — Toshiro cups his hands around his mouth and screams.

Shisui's arms curl around him from behind, the man's chin digging into the crown of his head. He's shaken back and forth, Shisui's sweaty palms grasping the front of his kimono. He barely hears the man's yells over his own and the sound of the crowd. Hoshika is somewhere to his side, her elbow also brushing his ribs. Surrounded by his favorite people, Toshiro can only howl his joy into the air with the rest of them.

The kids in front of them are cringing at the noise level, but that doesn't stop most of them from jumping up and down, joining in on the cheers. Chiasa, Gin and Sai are a little more reserved, not jumping in place like their younger siblings but looking with wide, starstruck eyes as one of the most monumental moments in Konoha's history unfolds before them.

"ITACHI! ITACHI! ITACHI!" The crowd chants, and the first Uchiha Hokage tilts his face up to the sun, arm rising until it's straight up in the air, fist clenched in promise.

Shisui's sweaty forehead presses to the back of his head, and the hands clenching at the front of his kimono tighten and shake. Toshiro presses his own hands on top of them when he feels his friend begin to tremble. He glances to the side and meets Kakashi's eye, sending the biggest, most exuberant smile he possibly can at the silver-haired man.

He doesn't mind the tears he feels dripping onto his neck, because they are Shisui's tears of joy.

The celebration lasts for hours, until the sun sets and the streets are swarmed with late night party-goers. Toshiro has never been extremely touchy-feely on his own, always a little too nervous to initiate contact. He's awkward and so used to shinobi and their aversion to comforting touches — children are easier to deal with, and Shikamaru will probably never grow out of using him as a mattress. Shisui and Hoshika remind him that even adults need a friendly touch every once in a while.

(Touching Kakashi is different.)

So when he finds Itachi some time before he and Kakashi decide to drag the kids back for the night, he doesn't hesitate to pull the boy towards him. The Hokage cloak is soft and well-made beneath his hands, his fingers splayed against the back, right over the kanji spelling out Godaime. Itachi's nose ends up pressed to his shoulder, the boy still shorter — but growing. After a long moment of hesitation, the impromptu hug is awkwardly returned.

"I'm so proud of you, Itachi." He says, "I know you'll do your best, just remember to take care of yourself."

The teen smiles softly against the fabric of Toshiro's kimono. "Of course, my medic would be furious otherwise."

Moving into his new office doesn't take too long. (Storage scrolls are a godsend!) His desk is in front of a wide window, filing cabinets pressed to the walls. Little plants and the errant scroll decorate almost every available surface. Inoichi had gifted him a beautiful hanging spider plant as a gift. Shisui had given him a brand new futon, promptly burning Toshiro's old one with little remorse.

Being hospital director means being in charge of all the departments — and it's business heavy. Toshiro wants to help people. He wants to heal people. While he still does that, it seems like most days he's stuck behind a desk doing paperwork or fighting with the Council about something or the other — which is a new development.

Because now he has a seat on the Council.

The Aburame are managing the orphanages well. Shibi contacted Toshiro just the other day to both congratulate him on his promotion and update him on the situation. The last renovations were complete, the staff upgraded and orphans who were shinobi-in-training had been relocated to the new place in the shinobi district.

It's a huge weight off his shoulders. Now there are other people thinking, pushing past the past ideals that had, quite blatantly, been brainwashing the shinobi of Konoha. (At least in Toshiro's eyes. Seriously, anyone who thought that letting a six year old slit a man's throat was normal was crazy!)

He can use his position to introduce new ideas without needing the aid of others. As much as he loves the bonds he's made and the allies he can fall back on, it doesn't change the fact that to even have his voice and concerns be heard he'd had to fight tooth and nail. Now that he's got a seat on the Council, he has his own power.

Which he refuses to let get to his head.

Of course, anyone who knows him is probably aware of the scheming look in his eye by now. They're just waiting for him to say something — but he won't. Not yet. It's something he can wait for, at least until after the changes at the Academy take place. Those are currently number one on the list, no matter what Itachi finally decides to implement.

Obviously, not everyone is on board with Itachi's drive for change. The Elders especially are weary, and the Hyuuga are bitter in their silent defeat. While there are seven major clans in Konoha — the Uchiha, Nara, Yamanaka, Akimichi, Hyuuga, Inuzuka and Aburame — they are not the only Clans, and those with enough members, money or political sway (or any combination of the three) all have seats. As do various civilian business tycoons, or those who head different departments in the village (like Toshiro).

It's difficult to pull so many towards a single opinion. The civilians are less inclined to care about the going-on's of shinobi lifestyle, so they're generally in agreement as long as money isn't taken out of their pockets.

"I want the graduation age to be set at twelve, no exceptions." Itachi murmurs, his voice heard by all even though he remains relatively soft-spoken.

"Hokage-sama, please," Utatane Koharu, one of the Elders, urges, "Graduation should be determined by potential. We will limit our forces if we stunt the progression of prodigious shinobi!"

He does not shake his head, but Toshiro is well-versed in Uchiha Speak and can tell the teen is mildly annoyed. "We are not at war. There is no need for children on the frontlines, and there never should have been one to begin with. We would only succeed in harming the futures of our shinobi."

"We've never had to be concerned about this before." Hyuuga Hiashi says, arms crossed and brow furrowed.

Itachi folds his hands, dark eyes piercing even as his expression does not change. "So you can tell me that every shinobi exposed to violence at a young age is perfectly sound in mind? That the children aren't plagued with nightmares and personality changes, violent terrors or quirks created as coping mechanisms for the unspeakable horrors they've witnessed? Tell me, how many sleepless nights have you faced? Too many to count, as is true for the rest of us. Every single shinobi in this room has struggled with trauma that clings to the mind. To say you haven't doesn't make you strong, it makes you the kind of person we do not want. For then you have revealed a character we cannot consider human. To feel no remorse or horror at your own actions, no matter how necessary or applauded they are, is not a state of mind to celebrate, but rather to fear." He settles back in his seat, glancing at the other Council members carefully. "Now tell me, what has twisted you so that you believe the next generation should suffer just as much as you have — just as much as we all have? Are you so set in your ways that you would not seek to make the next group of shinobi who come into our ranks stronger, healthier and more prone to make decisions that don't lead them down the path of suicidal tenacity?"

There is a moment of disrupted quiet as those who had opposed Itachi stutter over their words and thoughts, unsure of how to respond to such a targeted and exposing tirade.

"I shouldn't have to remind you that we are Konohagakure, a village built in the heart of a forest. We were born to rise and flourish, to shed our leaves as the seasons change and grow anew when the time comes. We each hold a flame in our hearts, one we should not fear. As citizens of the land of fire, we should rejoice in it — for even if the flames within all of us burn this current tree to the ground, we've not lost. We've just made room for new trees to grow. Whatever decisions we come to in the future, Konoha will never be lost. Konoha is a people, not just a place, and every one of us has the potential to inspire rebirth from whatever ashes may be left behind."

To hear these words from a boy of only sixteen shakes the sturdier foundations of every person present. Itachi speaks like a leader well beyond his years, enough to draw even the grudging respect of Hyuuga Hiashi, if the annoyed, reluctant look in his pupil-less gaze is anything to go by.

"Do not fear change," Itachi's voice is commanding — but not in the sense that he's telling them all what to do, but rather in that he's reminding them all of something they've forgotten. "Embrace it. For it is in our nature to do so."

Toshiro can't believe that this is the same child who'd gifted him the cherry red earrings he still wears, who'd flushed at the thought of marriage. It makes him feel….old.

And content.

Fugaku has never looked prouder.

It goes like this: It's mandatory to be at least twelve before graduation. In the case of students who outclass their peers, specialty work can be assembled to meet their needs and shinobi will be available to take on apprentices. A child won't be hampered in their ability to learn, so extra or specialized training was allowed. Kakashi even stated that Gai, especially, would very eagerly create training routines for students who wanted to push themselves if they were vastly ahead of their peers — or even for kids who wanted extra help improving. Essentially, a system of aid was set up in which Jounin or Chuunin who wanted to participate could have their name added to a registry that Academy Sensei's could access and use to recommend students to shinobi that would help them improve.

The use of chakra techniques by an academy student without supervision was prohibited, and could result in serious consequences if the student was caught.

As children came with far too many differences, it wasn't helpful to hold everyone to the same standard. Math, history and other core classes could be taught thoroughly by Academy Sensei's. The basics of taijutsu, chakra theory and hand signs were also important parts of the education to be learned.

But a student would now be allowed to expand upon areas of skill or interest by pursuing outside or extra means of education. Essentially, shinobi-to-be would get the opportunity to push themselves and take advantage of advice offered by experienced shinobi, therefore crafting a regimen and education tailored to them, for them.

Genin were required to stay genin for at least six months — the initial push for one year was turned down via majority vote — in order to better integrate themselves with the shinobi system and village. Far too many Genin perished in the Chuunin Exams because they took the one soonest after graduation. For Konoha, that usually meant they only spent two or so months as actual Genin before trying. Almost never was that enough time to train enough for incredibly significant improvement in both skill and maturity. Itachi put his foot down in saying that there was a distinction between ranks for a reason. A Genin should have experience, both of the worldly and mission kind, before being able to progress.

"If we want the future to be strong," he'd said, "We need to start somewhere."

Altering the actual classes and education offered at the Academy was a steep process. They argued about it well past both Toshiro and Sasuke's July birthdays, all the way into August. The easiest courses to implement were actually the ones geared toward civilian-born reeducation. After was the Health Course — of which there was already a brief overview of general first aid. It would be expanded upon to include more detail and segments that covered various topics. Akimichi Chouza was also incredibly eager to aid in creating a dietary guide to use for said class, which would help educate both civilian-born and even clan children about the kinds of food and calorie intakes best suited for shinobi. He'd gotten very into it, actually, because according to him dietary needs should be personalized for each person based on fighting style, body type and chakra nature.

Toshiro had no doubt that by the end of the course, the kids would know exactly how to eat in order to suit their own body and shinobi lifestyle. He himself had been getting pretty lax on monitoring his diet….which had him shrinking a little in his seat the more heated Chouza got about the topic.

"Lastly," Itachi announced, blinking slowly in a way that Toshiro knew meant he wanted to rub his temple in aggravation. The stress must already be getting to him, poor kid. "I propose we return the Uzumaki Clan to the history curriculum."

"You would educate the children on our greatest mistake?" A Council member exclaims, a civilian merchant who Toshiro knows doesn't much care for the Clans as a whole. "The Uzumaki are gone, there's no need to dwell on them any longer."

"I'd watch your mouth," Kakashi's voice stills the room. He's sitting in his chair with a sprawled kind of grace, elbow on the table and his hand cupping his chin. His visible eye is narrowed and curved in a mock smile. "It's not polite to disrespect the dead, especially when one of those Uzumaki was Yondaime-sama's wife."

This makes a few people shift uncomfortably. The Yondaime is still held to the highest esteem, having been a kind, charismatic leader who both contributed greatly to their winning of the third war and saved the entirety of the village at the cost of his own life, and the life of his wife.

"We wear the Uzumaki crest on our backs as a sign of respect to our fallen allies," Toshiro can't help but add. Having so many eyes on him is incredibly uncomfortable. He hates it, actually, but needs to swallow past his anxiety if he wants to get anything done. "Yet every day we seem to forget the reason a little bit more. Their clan has done more for Konoha than we could possibly imagine, and that does not include the fact that Shodaime-sama himself took an Uzumaki wife. Without whom we would not have a third of our precious legendary sannin, who almost single-handedly won us the second shinobi war."

Shikaku clears his throat. "We also have an Uzumaki in the village. So long as he lives, the Uzumaki will never be gone. It is also likely there are others wandering the world, and even more likely that many of our own citizens carry the remnants of Uzumaki blood from the warring clan era."

Toshiro tries not to grin. It's incredibly difficult.

He's fond of Naruto. Not surprising, seeing as he was Yondaime-sama's advisor, and he's definitely picked up on the fact that Shikamaru would probably skin anyone who looked at Naruto wrong.

Ah, what a scary little brother Toshiro has. His protective streak is so cute.

Itachi nods at Shikaku's words. "To add upon that, I would like to open our doors to any remaining Uzumaki refugees. Obviously, we will take their integration seriously to keep the village safe. But if you locate, rescue, or happen upon someone of Uzumaki blood, I urge you to pass on this declaration of protection and amnesty."

That meant the usual background check, interrogation and possible Yamanaka mindwalk to check for malicious intent. Not a problem if you had nothing to hide. That being said, petty crimes and thievery would be easily overlooked — especially if it meant having an Uzumaki, shinobi trained or not. That was the sad part, Uzumaki really were a hot commodity. Their skill sets and potential were insane.

But the greed of politics was also why those who knew about Asuhi's lineage were keeping it a secret. If it got out, there would be a vote to attempt to force her into the shinobi lifestyle. Toshiro would die before letting her choice be taken from her, and he knows that Kakashi would be right beside him, fighting tooth and nail.

Toshiro knows she's there before she knocks.

Gin answers the door, his silver eyes squinting at the pink-haired girl, his frown hidden behind a black face mask with a snaggle-toothed grin stitched in white.

"Sakura." He greets after a beat. "...are you looking for Kojika?"

"Um, actually, I'm looking for Aikawa-sensei."

Gin blinks, "Nii-san?"

Toshiro takes that as his cue to appear behind his little brother, fondly ruffling the boy's mousey brown hair. "Hello, Sakura-chan."

She stands with her shoulders hunched and her hands tucked to her chest, clad in another flimsy looking qipao dress. Her stare, however, is hard and determined, even if she looks like she's five seconds from keeling over in anxiety. (Or lack of food. Seriously, she needed a sandwich or something. Her wrists look like bird bones!)

"I have my answer."

"Oh?" He replies as Gin trails away to remove himself from the conversation.

Sakura looks up at him with wide, spring green eyes. "I want to be a shinobi that saves people, that protects people like my tou-chan and kaa-chan and allows them to live in peace." Her hands tighten even further into fists and she drops them to her sides, stance becomes less demure and anxious. She takes a deep breath, "And I want — I want to be strong enough to beat up Sasuke!"

(She didn't say Sasuke-kun.)

Toshiro smiles and steps to the side, creating space in the doorway to allow her in. "Looks like we have some work to do."