Dinner turned out to be at a cozy barbeque joint, fragrant with burning woods and heavy spices. Yamato took a four-person table by the back of the restaurant and glanced over at the kitchen. As if summoned by ninjutsu, a long-limbed teenager appeared at their table with a notebook and a bedazzled pen that tap, tap, tapped against the paper.
"Water for me."
Aiko glanced up through her lashes, still preoccupied by the menu. "I'll have a dark cola."
Their tanned, androgynous waiter gave a little headshake to coerce loose bangs out of the way, not even bothering to scribble their order. They heaved an enormous sigh that pulled the white fabric of their uniform across their chest. "I would love to get that for you."
She pressed her lips together to keep from smirking at the unenthused lie. Yamato's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't say anything until they were alone again.
"You must have been doing a lot of work." He fiddled with his menu, rubbing at the laminated paper with a thumb. "I don't know what I expected, but that wasn't it."
'He used to know me.' Aiko furrowed her brow and tried to read his expression. 'How well? Are we friends or just training partners? I can't tell.'
For a moment, she really wanted to ask. If she could believe what he'd tell her, she would have. Aiko gave a noncommittal grunt, shrugging one shoulder.
"You're light on your feet," Yamato tried again. His gaze flicked up to the returning waiter and he accepted his drink in the same motion that he pointed out his order. "Thank you." Seamless, he looked back to her. "I think we should work on your blocking and offense, however. You're hesitant. Is it a lack of aggression, or-?"
Aiko shook her head, pulling her lips off her straw. "No. I just didn't want to hurt you. The blocking is a fair assessment, I prefer to move out of the way."
That, and that Obito hadn't wanted her to get into those close-range fights. That had been remarkably short-sighted of him, now that she thought about it. Was that really how his 'Rin' had been? She curled a lip. Not impressive.
"That's not always plausible or practical." Yamato twisted his drink, turning the cup so that the water inside swirled. "You should at least be comfortable with your ability to block and minimize impact when you can't move out of the way."
The sick sensation of flying occurred to her again. The moment of weightlessness before a painful fall down sharp rocks. Aiko took a sharp breath and clenched her jaw, breathing slowly to concentrate on the present. "Yeah."
'I can see my reflection in the table. That's clean.' The wavery girl blinked up at her, dark splotches growing and moving on the yellow ceramic with the motion. A white dish settled in front of her with a clatter to break the reverie. Steam washed up over her face.
"You were worried about hurting me?"
The question took a moment to register. When Aiko remembered what he was referring to, she blinked. "I just…" She shook her head slightly, prodding at her food.
"We can work on that." Yamato picked up a piece of meat with his chopsticks and let heat waft off of it. "Hesitance is normal when sparring with a new partner. You'll learn when to push and when to hold back."
The tension in her chest loosened. She nodded, putting something savory in her mouth so that she didn't have to come up with a response.
'He's just so freaking nice. Is this guy for real?'
The ambient noise of clattering dishes and quiet conversations was gone. Something was wrong. Aiko registered that Yamato's expression was more chagrinned than panicked as she twisted to view the restaurant. It wasn't hard to find the disturbance. Almost everyone in the place had stopped to look at two young men that had walked in. The patrons that weren't looking were carefully not looking. The only exception was some poor man pouring over what looked like papers in need of grading, tapping a pencil against the base of his high ponytail.
'What the hell is wrong with these new people? I'm the only international criminal I recognize here. If anything, I should be the one getting stared at.'
With a start, she realized that she recognized one of dark-haired young men. The slightly shorter figure was the grumpy medic nin. The other man could have been his brother- they had the same svelte build, pale skin, and dark eyes set over beautiful cheekbones. The new man was even cuter than his medic friend, but that might have been the lack of a scowl. He seemed stiff and miserable under the scrutiny.
Aiko couldn't help but remember the weight of stares on her back when she had walked with Shizune last night.
'Me too, buddy. Me too.'
She wouldn't have cared in the slightest, if the medic hadn't seen and gifted her with a curt nod that momentarily drew the crowd's attention to her. She was dismissed almost as quickly. Something about those men was mesmerizing, apparently.
'I don't see the appeal. They're attractive, but they're not that attractive. And this seems hostile, anyway. Something else is going on. No one stared at the grump before… So the problem is probably the other man.'
Aiko turned back to the table, but kept her ears pricked while the two men seated themselves only two tables away. In the still restaurant, the beginnings of their conversation were easily audible.
"When must you return to the hospital to complete your paperwork?"
People were still staring. Aiko could tell that even without looking up.
'Maybe they think that if they just ignore people long enough, people will ignore them?'
"Tomorrow afternoon. I took the morning off. You're coming with me to work with Sai's team." The medic's voice raised, losing warmth. "Can I get a menu?" Belatedly, he added, "Please," in a long-suffering tone.
Aiko stifled a snort, meeting Yamato's eyes. And then she couldn't look away, wondering at the deep concern she saw there. Was something actually wrong? Why was he looking at her like that?
The waitress's "Of course," seemed to break the wall of silence that had afflicted the restaurant. The murmur of conversation and clatter of dishware obscured that quiet, pointedly polite discussion from her hearing.
She turned her attention back to her food and took a big bite. Whatever was going on, it wasn't any of her business.
Yamato cleared his throat, blinking for the first time in what seemed like several minutes. "Ah. So, do you have any hobbies?"
Reading pornography. Small-time drug smuggling. Being the unwilling subject of an ocular fetish.
'No, none of that gives quite the right impression. I don't want him to think badly of me.'
"Amateur art critic."
His eyebrows shot straight up, composure lost.
Aiko kept a straight face. "Just last week, I reviewed the most unfortunate antique piece of statuary." She paused deliberately. "It was accidentally maliciously destroyed."
'That part, I don't regret, no matter how cranky the Hokage is about me releasing demons on our allies. I wouldn't ever do it again; too dangerous.' She paused. 'I mean, if I could teleport to safety like Obito, I would break that statue that over and over again. I would do that to a soundtrack and commission someone to take photos. The whole situation was deeply funny.'
She took a moment to picture herself posing next to two bijuu making a peace sign while ugly pottery fell around them like confetti. Just Aiko and her basics. No big.
'I'm going to regret the missed opportunity for the rest of my life, aren't I?'
The tension seeped out of his shoulders when she couldn't help but smile. He was probably under the mistaken impression that she had been telling a joke, but Aiko was willing to let it go. The only thing interrupting the moment was quiet coughing from a table behind her.
"Pity," Yamato said gravely, lifting his glass in a solemn toast to lost statuary.
~~~
The rest of her day was a bit of an emotional let-down. Konoha didn't want to get rid of her. They wanted to help her be the best she could be. The positivity and general goodwill wafting in her direction was sickening.
'If this is how Konoha treats people like me, maybe I should have been leery about the pretty boy. He must be a baby kicking lunatic. I mean, what do you have to do in this town to get a little fear and respect?'
"It wasn't that bad, was it?" Shizune eyed her dubiously but walked along, only pausing to offer a polite bow to the frowning psychologist who had stood to watch Aiko stalk out, oversized shirt billowing behind her. Her lips thinned.
'She wanted me to re-examine my feelings and share them. It was that bad.'
She kicked off her slippers and shoved her feet into the terminally ugly blue sandals that Yamato had helped her find without pausing, throwing open the door. It was probably for the best that she didn't see Shizune exchange an amused look with the receptionist behind her.
"Perhaps you'll like the shinobi psychologist better," Shizune offered with a hint of a laugh in her voice.
Aiko wilted at the reminder that she would be subjected to two different weekly appointments. There would be no escape, judging by the calm way her minder had shuffled her off to her first appointment.
'I underestimated Shizune. She's formidable. Why did I ever think that the Hokage was the probable threat?'
With that newfound resentment in mind, it was easier not to dissolve into a weeping pile of nerves while she waited outside the Hokage's office for her next appointment. When the door finally opened and she was shooed in, no one came out.
Apparently, the small crowd inside was going to lurk around while she had her interview. Lovely. Jiraiya-sama was there again, no big surprise. The other man present, on the other hand-
She nodded without making eye contact when Hatake raised a hand in greeting.
Fucking fantastic. There was no door to shut this time. She'd have to deal.
"Aiko, please make yourself comfortable." Under the Hokage's gaze, she didn't have the nerve to plop down on the same couch as last time. She backed against the side wall that Hatake wasn't at, wishing she could be anywhere else.
No one offered comment or let on to whatever thoughts they must have about her behaving like a trapped animal.
"I know you talked with Inoichi-san about your time with the Uchiha and Akatsuki." Godaime-Hottie tapped her pen against the desk in a slow staccato. "But I'd like to hear more, if you don't mind. The Akatsuki is largely disbanded, but if we don't act, Akatsuki will just be reformed with different nin."
"Obito is stubborn like that," Aiko agreed, using a sandal to scratch at the back of a calf. It took a moment to realize that everyone in the office was looking at her just a little too intensely. Hatake- no, Bakashi, 'Bakashi' made him seem much less threatening- seemed to desperately want to say something, but the Hokage got there first.
"You mean Madara," Tsunade corrected gently.
Aiko tried so, so hard not to roll her eyes because now was not the time for sass. "I think I know who I spent a year with, thanks. Madara is dead," she clipped out.
'Thank kami. If that's where Obito got his nutty plan, it's probably for the best that the old guy is gone.'
Bakashi shifted his weight. "He survived the fight with the Shodaime." His tone was carefully neutral. "To what end, we don't know, but he must have some plan."
"Right." At her easy acquiescence, the room seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief just a little early. "He survived his fight with the hokage, and then he died, like a decade or two ago," Aiko said sensibly. That was still very old, but still. "I never asked for the timeline because frankly I didn't care and still don't, but he's super dead."
Above her head, Bakashi and Jiraiya exchanged troubled looks that they obviously thought she didn't see. She twitched at the condescending snub, one hand curling into a fist. The other grazed her thigh. There still wasn't a weapon there. They still didn't trust her with one. They didn't even trust her situational assessment and ability to remember what she'd been told; why would they arm her?
'What is the point in talking to these people if they don't believe what I say?' The only thing that kept her from stomping her foot was the vaguely conscious notion that acting childishly wouldn't convince anyone that she knew what she was talking about.
"Aiko," Jiraiya said gently. Far too gently. He sounded like he was talking to a child.
'I'm going to go home and burn all your stupid autographed books. I take back ever thinking you were cool.'
Somehow it hurt more when she remembered that she couldn't even do that. Her books were with Obito. She couldn't go home.
Her former warrior-poet idol looked at her with soulful eyes and let out an exhalation that seemed to shrink his enormous chest. "I'm sorry, but Uchiha Madara used that name to deceive you. Uchiha Obito is long dead. He was a casualty of the third war, and a loyal Konoha shinobi. He wouldn't have done what this man has. Uchiha Madara is using his body as a vessel. For Konoha's sake, he needs to be found. If there's anything of Obito left in there, we owe him our best efforts to free his soul so he can rest in peace." Counter to what he must have intended, his tone only sharpened her temper.
'Sentimental drivel. You sound like my freaking shrink.'
She bit her tongue and took a steadying breath, too frustrated to come up with a logical rebuttal at the moment. "Look," Aiko tried with patience she did not feel. "I spent a lot of time with him. I know him."
"Which is why you ran away from him," Jiraiya rebutted, frustration slipping into the rumble of his voice. "He's a dangerous man. You know that, Aiko. You can't protect him."
"I'm not trying to!" She could feel heat rising in her cheeks to match Jiraiya's moue of stubborn frustration. "But he's not evil. He's- he's unbalanced," Aiko stressed. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. "He means well." Even she knew that was a losing argument, and her voice trailed off to nothingness. No one in the office looked the slightest bit sympathetic. Hatake looked like he might be ill if she kept trying to argue that his genin teammate was an international terrorist. Tsunade seemed more concerned for her mental well-being. If she kept arguing, Aiko was going to find herself back in Inoichi's tender care.
'They're not going to believe me.'
The irony of that took a moment to sink in. 'They think that I'm saying this because I'm emotionally compromised. Even if I wasn't, they wouldn't want to believe me because it's much easier to believe Uchiha Madara would be a villain than Obito. That's the emotional blockade getting in the way of communication.'
Of course, he wasn't a villain. Not exactly. He was ill and he needed help or to be put down and he might end up killing her but- but-
To be fair, from their perspective, his actions looked pretty fucking villainous. And if some chump tried to tell her that the man who had kidnapped them wasn't that bad, Aiko would think that person had Stockholm's syndrome, not a good point worth consideration.
Just a little bit of doubt tugged at her mind. What if- what if she never had known anyone but Madara? When she looked at it all that way, it seemed like her perception was the one likely to be skewed.
Aiko wrapped her arms around her chest and looked down at her feet, shaken and unwilling to argue anymore. If she couldn't trust her judgment… Did she even know anything?
'No. That was Obito. I know it in my gut. He's a lot of things, but he's got a core that's really genuine. Someone hurt him and twisted him and he needs help, but he's not a villain. He wouldn't have come up with the idea of putting everyone in a genjutsu on his own. And he didn't falsify they way he felt about his genin team. There would be no reason to tell me anything like that if he was Madara.'
"Aiko?" An oversized hand closed gently on her shoulder. "I'm sorry I yelled, kiddo."
"It's fine," she said mechanically, shaking off Jiraiya-sama's comforting grip. "What do you want to know?" The step she took had her back pressed against the wall. Thankfully, the toad sannin did not follow.
"Inoichi gave us what you know about active members of Akatsuki and contacts." The Hokage gracefully called all attention to herself, glamorous and composed. She blinked perfectly curled lashes. "Thank you for that, Aiko-chan."
(Chan? She tried not be bitter that she'd apparently been down-graded to a child.)
Tsunade stood, fluffing her hair as she turned to the window. "How many safehouses are you aware of? Could you locate them on a map?"
Aiko would have nodded, if the woman was looking at her. Instead she let out a sullen, "Four, yes."
'Not that it matters. Obito won't stay at any of them now. He's not stupid.'
The older woman must have had the same thought. She clasped her hands behind her back and ducked her head slightly. Her voice was lower when it came again. "Do you have any idea about what Uchiha's next course of action will be?"
"He didn't tell me much about his plans." Aiko wiggled her toes, tired of standing. "I didn't ask. I didn't care much. He wants- wanted," she corrected. "He wanted to collect all the bijuu and put them in his ugly statue and then use them to power a world-wide genjutsu."
Jiraiya gave a surprised curse, nearly dropping the kunai he had been balancing on a finger.
Slowly, Tsunade turned around to stare. "A world-wide genjutsu." Her voice was flat.
"I thought the plan could use some work," Aiko acknowledged easily. "Though to be fair, it's a hand-me-down plan from Madara."
Bakashi tensed, fingers drumming against his thigh.
The Hokage ignored her pointed reminder, glossing over their disagreement entirely. "You said this was a plan in the past tense?"
Aiko grimaced. "I may have taken bad advice from that Fuu woman and broken his statue. That's part of why he was pissed with me. It made a mess." She made an expansive gesture, shaking her head. "Rocks and bijuu everywhere."
Something broke when Jiraiya slapped his palm against the wall, falling to the floor before Aiko could see what it was. "What."
She stilled, uncertain about the sudden tension. Cautiously, she inclined her head slightly and eyed the adults. Her hand itched for a weapon that she still didn't have.
Damn, Jiraiya was close. And big. And the other two people in the room were S class shinobi. She was suddenly hyperaware of that.
Sensing her confusion, Hatake raised his palms in a gesture of peace. "We didn't know that was how the bijuu got out."
Tension was replaced by befuddlement. "What, really?" Aiko blinked.
'Oh my kami, they must really not think of me as a threat. I was the only person there. It shouldn't be shocking that I was involved in that.'
"Of course not," Godaime-Hottie said dryly. "I am suddenly thankful that the Suna representatives left. That gives us time to think of a plausible lie."
Aiko snorted, giving the blonde woman a thin smile for the first time.
'Not really. The jinchuuriki from Mizu and Taki both know. They were there right before I did it. It'd be hard to keep both of them quiet, and it's probably too late already.'
"But not that much time," Tsunade-Hottie continued, caution bleeding into her tone. "We have a lot to do, Aiko." She raised an eyebrow as one hand skimmed over to rest on her hip. "Are you aware of the upcoming trial of the Amegakure leader?"
"Something about breaking an international treaty?" Aiko rubbed the back of her neck. "I wasn't that interested."
"Get interested," Tsunade said bluntly, pointing a pen at her. "You're our star witness."
.
.
.
"Say what?"