Later that afternoon, head buzzing with a long dead civilization and chakra matrix theories that I only half understood, I headed down to the research labs to find Kofuku Nara.
She had a tidy little office, a desk and a few chairs, filled with books and folders. Most of them were unnamed.
"Ah, Shikako-chan," she said, looking up from reading a scroll. Even as I hesitated in the doorway, she smoothly rolled it up and tucked it into a holding stand. "I didn't expect to see you so soon."
"Oba-san." I bobbed a quick bow. "You, uh, you approved my research application?"
"Preliminarily," she agreed, ushering me in and shutting the office door. "We do have a fair basis of information on some of the points you mentioned – certainly the geological ones. I don't expect that you have access to them at the moment, but I can get you dispensation for certain articles and papers."
I'd expected that. I only had access to the Genin level archives, so anything in the upper level archives was beyond my reach. Soil types, rock types; those things were useful, for farming, for building foundations… all sorts of things. And not, in terms of difficulty, all that hard to study.
"I would be grateful," I murmured politely.
"Once the necessary background has been established," Kofuku-oba continued. "You can re-submit an edited proposal and I'll reconsider it. I've heard good things about your sealing aptitude so far, and this is certainly a direction that we would encourage you to explore. A functioning, independent chakra storage unit is certainly an ambitious goal."
I gave my thanks and tried not to frown. Because while I'd redesigned a few seals and could make copies of a dozen more… that wasn't exactly in the same league as creating them. Nowhere near. My 'best' seal was a touch based explosive, which was a fancy alternative to something you could purchase in any licensed weapons store in Konoha.
It was a bit of a stretch to expect me to jump from that to chakra storage.
Admittedly, the Book of Gelel would probably help extraordinarily in that situation. But it wasn't like anyone knew I had that.
We hammered out a few details, and she escorted me to the research specific archive to introduce me to Takatori. He was a distant cousin who was in charge of the archive and researching … something.
"You won't be able to remove anything from this room," Kofuku-oba said. "But you'll be able to come here as long as Takatori is present to supervise you."
Takatori yawned, rubbing at his eyes. "That's not something you should worry about. I'm starting to think I live here."
"He has authorization to acquire additional material if he thinks it's relevant," my aunt added. "I think you'll find plenty on the premises to occupy you, however."
Judging by what I could see, I agreed with her. These weren't books, they were hand written, or printed off type writers, an accumulation of individual research efforts. There were shelves and shelves of them, densely packed, the bookshelves barely far enough apart for a person to stand between.
My fingers itched. I wanted to touch them.
Takatori was grinning at me, like he could see the thoughts written all over my face. "We'll get along just fine, oba-san,"he said to her. "Where do you want to start?"
I stepped forward. "Where can I start?"
I didn't end up staying as long as I might have, however good company Takatori was. I was tired, and I'd already put in a few hours of 'study' today. And in terms of 'things important enough to force myself to do' this didn't reach the top of the list.
"You talked to Kofuku-oba?" Shikamaru asked, when I got home. He was still sitting in front of the shogi board, and I wondered if he'd played the whole afternoon, or if he'd gone and come back.
I nodded absently. "Yeah. I might be spending more time in the archives for a while."
"Too bad."
I paused, only halfway past him, and looked down at the game. It was a stalemate. "Shikamaru."
He looked up, quizzically. "Yeah?"
"How'd you get her to approve it?"
There was a flash of something in his eyes. "Why would you think I-"
"Don't," I warned him. Don't lie. Don't pretend you didn't.
Because it was a good move, wasn't it? If he couldn't convince me to quit the way he wanted to, then he could certainly distract me by giving me something I wanted. It might have even worked.
He shrugged. "I didn't tell her anything that wasn't true."
I waited. The silence stretched out.
"She was interested to know that you were being taught by Jiraiya," Shikamaru added, as explanation when it became clear that I wasn't going to move. There might have been more to it that that – there usually were more layers than there seemed to be – but it answered my question.
Shikamaru wanted me out of the field. And he was willing to work around me to get it to happen.
And the thing was…
It might have worked.
I wanted to do this.
But I needed to be stronger.
And …
It hurt that he'd done this. That he was trying to undermine me. That he was suddenly someone I needed to out think. That I couldn't trust him to be behind me one hundred percent, because his idea of what was best was different from mine.
I swallowed, rough and harsh. My throat was dry. I couldn't speak.
I brushed past him, up the stairs and into my room. The door shut with a click of finality.
.
.
"I, uh, I looked for you yesterday," I said awkwardly. "But you weren't home."
Sasuke shrugged, eyes flickering over the trees around us. We'd just gone for a 'random' walk in the clan forest, which was one of the safest places I could think of. "Patrol," he said, by way of explanation. It was even less verbose than was normal for him, and, yeah, that wasn't a good sign.
I nodded, sitting down against the base of a tree trunk and stretched my legs out in front of me. "I looked into it," I offered, because it was hanging in the air between us, unsaid. "Her name is Yakumo Kurama. She's fifteen and the heir to the clan. Her parents both died four years ago in a house fire. She's not officially registered as a ninja, and she never attended the Academy, so if she was Kurenai's student then it was a special arrangement. Unfortunately, Kurenai-sensei is still at the border, so it's impossible to ask her what happened."
Hesitantly, Sasuke came to crouch in front of me. "You think it's possible," he said, as if half disbelieving. "You think that she was telling the truth."
I hesitated. "I think … it's not impossible." This was a shaky line to tread. Because how much of his faith in the village did I shake? Too much, and Orochimaru's offer might seem attractive. Too little, and his own history would take him off guard.
"I thought you trusted Tsunade." That sounded almost accusatory.
"Four years ago wouldn't have been Tsunade," I reminded him. "And there are more people in power in Konoha than just the Hokage, no matter what it seems like. Something like this… we might not ever know the truth, Sasuke. That doesn't mean it's still not dangerous, either way. If it's true – if – then it's supposed to stay secret."
"But you're looking," he said flatly. "You think it's dangerous… you panicked. But you're still looking."
"I did," I admitted. "Sorry. You really surprised me with that one." I ran a hand through my hair. "But I'm looking because… even if it happened, that doesn't mean it was right."
"Right," Sasuke agreed with a prolonged exhale. "What do you need me to do?"
I considered it. "I don't know," I admitted. Because Sasuke getting involved would be dangerous for him because of his own history. And yet, I couldn't exactly push him out of it, for much the same reason.
"No plans?" he asked, but there was a faint hint of teasing.
"We'll have to wing it," I said gravely. "Though, if there are people keeping watch on her, they'll probably keep tabs on the people that came into contact with her. You probably don't want to look like you're looking…"
"I haven't seen anyone," Sasuke said, uneasily.
I nodded. "Just… keep your eyes open, okay?" I said. "That's all we can do."
Sasuke still looked troubled, which was fair. This hadn't been a very reassuring conversation.
I felt bad that I had no answers to give him. If I hadn't made a big deal out of it at the hospital, then he would never have considered anything to be wrong.
I didn't like this either. I'd gotten used to having, if not complete knowledge, then at least a decent idea what was going on. It seemed like everything this week was proving me wrong.
I felt very small.
"Want to do some training?" I asked half-heartedly, rolling my neck back to look up at the sky.
Sasuke snorted. "Aren't you supposed to be on medical leave?"
I shrugged. "What they don't know won't hurt them, right?"
He seemed to be considering it. "No." He shook his head. "I have afternoon patrol. I need to go soon."
Disappointing. I sighed. "Too bad." It wasn't exactly that I felt up to training, but it would have been normal. We could use some normal.
And I needed to burn off some chakra before my check-up at the hospital.
Well. If Sasuke wasn't going to train with me, I knew how I could do that.
I stayed in the forest after he left, not bothering to seek out a proper training field. I wasn't going to be doing anything that damaging, and I didn't want anyone stumbling over me.
Instead, I leant back against the tree, and fished my new necklace out from underneath my shirt.
"You," I murmured, inspecting it.
It wasn't like the other stones of Gelel that I had seen. I couldn't hear it, couldn't feel it. But it couldn't be inert, either, because it was compressed chakra. It wasn't as physical or material as it seemed. So it couldn't be dead.
But maybe I couldn't feel it the same way that couldn't feel yourself.
Gently, gingerly, I touched a spark of chakra to it. It sank in with no sign that anything had happened. But I could still feel it. It was still there.
Puzzled, I pulled it back out.
My hand came away from the stone, shadows creeping over it as the chakra re-emerged.
The transformation.
"Ah," I said.
I didn't panic. Not this time. It didn't get very far, barely covered my index finger and knuckle. There wasn't that much chakra.
I examined my finger with almost detached curiosity.
The stone clearly altered my chakra. My chakra then altered me. It wasn't so different from the principles of our jutsu in the end. This level of change might have been found in the upper levels of our clan techniques, but I'd never seen anything like it in action.
Tsunade had said this had been in my eighth gate, beside the heart. That meant that when I had tried to use chakra, this transformation had taken place. Now that it was external, I had to put chakra in and withdraw it for the same effect to take place.
I pushed chakra back into the stone. The shadows slid off my finger like a glove, retreating and retracting.
I flexed my hand. Nothing felt different about it. I gathered more chakra, pushed it into the stone and pulled.
My hand wavered, shadows creeping up to the bend of my elbow. The necklace was still suspended it in, shadows solid enough to hold things. I let it go, let it fall to the ground. My hand stayed transformed.
Doesn't need contact. Nice to know.
I concentrated, trying to manipulate the shape of it. I could stretch it, a little, could bend and twist it in ways that hands generally didn't. It was difficult, but I didn't know if that was an inherent difficulty, or simply because it was something new to me. I'd keep trying.
I played around with it. How quickly could it change? How much chakra for how much transformation? I didn't try and do a full transformation, not like the one that had happened on our journey back – for one, I didn't have enough chakra to waste, and… I wasn't quite ready to risk it.
It left me tired though. Not exhausted-exhausted, but enough to remind me that yeah, I was supposed to be on medical leave here.
Need to work on it more, I thought, looping the necklace back around my neck and tucking it away. It's promising.
More than promising, really. If I could get it up to the level of full body transformation that it had been… that was Jounin level skills right there. I didn't expect I'd manage it quickly, but surely in a year or two… if I could get it by then, it would be brilliant.
At least one good thing had come out of this whole mess.
I took myself home, walked past Shikamaru without speaking, and went to my room.
I had a lot of reading to do.
.
.
"That looks much better," Tsunade said in satisfaction, ticking something off on her clipboard.
I swung my feet back and forth, perched on the edge of the examination bed.
I hadn't really expected Tsunade to be the one here. It seemed a little menial for the Hokage herself to follow through on boring things like check-ups. The initial damage, sure, but I'd expected to be offloaded to a regular doctor by now.
Not that I was complaining. I just hadn't expected it.
I thought you trusted Tsunade, Sasuke had said yesterday.
I did.
I answered her questions, omitting only the slight jiggering of chakra I had done to get back into 'acceptable parameters' and considered.
At the end of the examination, Tsunade set the clipboard down and looked at me with serious eyes.
"Alright," she said, making a 'come on' motion with her hand. "Out with it."
I blinked. "Tsunade-sama?"
"Whatever it is you want to say," she elaborated. "Out with it."
I considered. Well. It wasn't Tsunade that we had to hide from, was it? She might not know about Sasuke, but Yakumo would be on her radar, if only from the attack on the tower.
"Yakumo Kurama," I started.
Tsunade sighed. "Medical leave means resting, not poking your nose into other people's missions," she scolded. "I don't know why I expected anything else from you."
"I was just wondering, if she was here at the hospital? Sasuke mentioned that you said she was sick…"
I didn't really want to bring Sasuke into it, but Tsunade basically knew where I'd heard about it all from already. I hoped he didn't get into trouble for it.
She raised an elegant brow. "Why?"
"I just wanted to know if I could speak with her," I said in a rush. "Based on what Sasuke told me, the way that she anchors genjutsu to paintings seems to mimic the fundamentals of sealing. Jiraiya-sama has been a great help in developing my own studies, but I'm very interested in the applications of being able to tie a technique to a picture. Even if it turns out to be a facet of her blood limit, I believe that studying it will provide a-"
"Stop, stop," Tsunade said, interrupting my semi-plausible explanation of my interest.
I stopped, sheepishly aware that I had perhaps sounded a little rehearsed. Possibly like the opening statement of a thesis. It was overdone.
I tucked my hands under my thighs, hunching my shoulders in a little.
"Yakumo Kurama is," Tsunade said delicately, "not sick in a way that I can cure. However she is still quite disturbed and very dangerous."
Well that was ominous, wasn't it?
"Aren't we all dangerous?" I asked, then ducked my head when I realised how cheeky that sounded. Clearly Naruto was a terrible influence on me, if I was talking to the Hokage like that.
I did see her smile, though.
"The Third decreed that she was dangerous enough to require Anbu supervision and permanent home detention." Her voice sounded idle, and she tapped her nails against her clipboard rhythmically. "I don't think you're quite at that level."
"Why home detention?" I asked, because Tsunade was willing to talk. I didn't know quite why she was explaining rather than telling me to shut up, but I wasn't going to ignore the opportunity. It might have been a test, it might have been an offer – I didn't know. But I wasn't going to ignore it.
"He considered it a merciful alternative to a more permanent solution."
Okay. What? I frowned. Was Tsunade admitting… no surely not. She would hardly be so blasé about an in-village assassination to me. But clearly killing Yakumo had been an option somewhere along the line. I felt like I was missing a huge piece of the puzzle.
"With all due respect," I said, hesitantly, not really confident in this conversation at all. "But solitary confinement isn't merciful." There was a reason it was used as a punishment. No, not just punishment, it could cross the line to torture.
"Oh, I agree," Tsunade said. She sounded satisfied, like I'd said something she was waiting for. I felt very off-balance. "What would you suggest instead?"
"I.. suggest?" I faltered. Yeah, no. I had no idea what was going on here anymore. "I suggest that…" That what? I'd thought this was about her parents, but it might not have been, after all. Disturbed and dangerous. Tsunade had said. Not sick in a way I can cure. What did that mean? What did that leave? "… that unless Yakumo is completely unable to function in a social setting, isolation will only exacerbate whatever issues she suffers? Rehabilitation should focus on the building of support structures and social contacts…?" I trailed off.
Of all the responses I'd expected to asking, this wasn't one of them. I didn't know how to answer, and it made me very, very nervous – a trait that every student was familiar with. I had not studied for this exam.
I didn't know how we'd gone from asking what had happened, to talking about rehabilitation.
"And more specifically?" Tsunade prodded.
There was an answer she was looking for. And I didn't know what it was.
I took a deep breath. What could I say when I didn't know anything about her, about her circumstances? She was our age. Mixed up in something serious. Dangerous. Sick. Alone. Alone. "Specifically," I said slowly. Well why not? I'd already told Tsunade I wanted to talk to her. "There is a kunoichi study group that I would like to invite her to."
Something that looked an awful lot like surprise flickered across Tsunade's face.
Okay, that didn't seem to be the answer that she was going for, after all. I bit my lip and stayed silent.
"An interesting proposal," Tsunade said, eventually, and then said nothing more about the topic at all. "Your examination is completed. Your follow up will be in a week. Make sure you make an appointment with reception."
I gave her an uncertain look, as she swept out of the room.
No. I had no idea what all that had been about.