Tsunade wiggled her feet between the couch cushions in an attempt to get comfortable. Her toes felt like blocks of ice. No amount of adjusting for comfort could put off the upcoming conversation for long, however. Besides, she was already much more comfortable than usual and consequently in a good mood. With Shizune out of town, there was no one to aim big mournful eyes that made Tsunade feel guilty for relocating to her front room to work instead of her office. She was sick of the office.
She had already given the different ways this dialogue could go considerable thought while her ANBU guard had resentfully plodded off to fetch her guest. It probably wouldn't be a particularly enjoyable conversation. But since she was already busy working on rearranging her most loyal pieces, it made sense to get this done and out of the way now.
To that end, she'd picked out her rhetorical strategy and decided to keep this brief. It was best to get to the point and only subtly move the conversation in the direction she wanted without actually attempting to persuade her target. Independent personality types didn't react well to being obviously herded.
That was fine, to be honest. She could see multiple directions for this shinobi to choose from, and how Tsunade stood to gain from all of them. Of course, she did have one she thought was more likely…
"Aiko, have you thought about your Jounin examinations?"
The question threw Aiko for a bit of a loop. It took a moment to recalibrate. To buy time, she asked, "Hokage-sama?" and just hoped that clarification would be upcoming.
Instead of replying, Tsunade offered her a platter of circular tan cookies. She took it awkwardly and suddenly wondered how many it was appropriate and polite to take. She'd never been invited into a Kage's home before. The bizarrely informal atmosphere was actually making her highly uncomfortable.
The older woman undoubtedly knew that.
Aiko settled for two cookies and gratefully slid the platter down onto the glass table between the two of them like a protective shield. The entire time, amber eyes were watching her closely as if waiting for something. She shifted uncomfortably and wished she could stand.
"I'm not in the business of having A and S class Chuunin," Tsunade pointed out dryly. "You're well on your way to that range by dint of the Hiraishin alone."
"I can't be," Aiko said, honestly bewildered. "Kakashi and Yamato bat me around like a cat toy."
"Oh, boo hoo." Tsunade rolled her eyes with a mischievous smile. "You mean that two of the best shinobi to ever come out of the ANBU program are still stronger than you? Oh well, I suppose I should just demote you back down to genin status." She flashed white, white teeth in a charmingly lopsided grin. It seemed sincere, for some reason. "Please tell me you hear how ridiculous you just sounded. I wouldn't pit most of my experienced Jounin against those two. I don't think you understand just what kind of career you were slated for when you were handed off to Hatake as a student."
She could feel heat rise in her cheeks. 'Okay, that was a little naïve,' she allowed. In lieu of verbal reply, she bent her head to let her loose hair slide forward in a reddish wave that hid her face.
Tsunade actually giggled. "I'll take that as a yes. Drink your tea, it's getting cold. And you'd better enjoy those cookies. They were painstakingly baked by Shizune."
Aiko eyed them uncertainly. Shizune-san had never seemed like much of a cook to her, but she wasn't going to say that. It was a pretty rude thing to think about such a nice lady, and one she really didn't even know on a personal level. Judgments like that were wrong all the time. Carefully she took a delicate bite—and struggled to maintain a straight face.
"Yes, they're awful," Tsunade allowed. "But if I throw them all away…" She trailed off and waved a hand irritably. "I find the tea helps. If that's not strong enough, I have this too." Long, pale fingers retrieved a narrow, colored bottle hidden down the front of her shirt. Aiko raised her eyebrows, downright impressed. She'd had no idea that was there, and it wasn't like Tsunade's cleavage was ever truly unobserved. It was like being in a room with a sleeping tiger: even if you weren't consciously thinking about it, you were making sure it didn't move too much.
Wordlessly, Aiko drained half her tea and held the cup out for Tsunade to pour a little alcohol in. She instead poured in a lot and then they exchanged the bottle so that Aiko could pour some for the Hokage. It was rude to pour your own drink, after all.
And those cookies tasted suspiciously like medicine underneath all the sugar.
"What do you know about how Chuunin become Jounin?"
The question was simple enough. So was her answer. "I don't really know anything," Aiko answered honestly. 'I suppose you get promoted when someone notices that you've advanced skill-wise? It can't be normal for the Hokage to do individual counseling meetings like this…' That was vague enough that she was sure it wasn't what Tsunade was looking for. Better to admit ignorance than try to bullshit the Hokage.
It must have been the right decision, because red-painted lips curved into a faint smile over a blue and white china cup.
"A more intelligent answer than one would think. Most don't know, because Jounin promotions are as much about politics as they are about reflecting skill levels. Sometimes that takes the form of promoting shinobi who had skill sets we desperately need at higher clearance, and sometimes it means keeping otherwise qualified shinobi out of the public eye where they can't make too much trouble."
"So… are you saying that there's some vacant space on a roster that you need me to fill?" That made some sense… but Tsunade shook her head.
"Not precisely. There isn't any one particular role I've slotted you for. You're going to be going to a personality and aptitude evaluation first, at which point you will be further counseled on your options. Unless of course you already have a preference, in which case we can skip directly to evaluating your aptitude for that position." She frowned slightly and lifted a shoulder to acknowledge, "I cannot force you to accept a promotion, but I can promise that this is not an attempt to break up your team. You will likely still be placed with team Kakashi on missions where your skill sets align, after an introductory training period into your new niche."
The next words were delicately phrased, but her eyes bored into Aiko as if they could see straight into her soul. "You would be with that team much more often, of course, if you were to take a path that would lessen the gap between your mutual experiences and training."
It didn't take a genius to figure that one out. Only a minute ago Tsunade had credited ANBU training for Kakashi and Yamato's advanced skills to some extent. She was being told to aim for ANBU. But why not tell her directly?
Tsunade's face was devoid of any hints.
Aiko swallowed, mind working furiously. 'I can't avoid promotion forever,' she noted. 'And… and I need to get stronger. Will ANBU do that for me?' Doubtlessly, Naruto had far surpassed her by now, even with her headstart. She didn't know much about what other Jounin did—they could be teachers, she knew, but wasn't she too young for that? Jounin led teams of Chuunin in various specialties, but she didn't want that path. It would put more pressure than she wanted on her and take her too far away from her team. No, she was fine being a subordinate.
When shit started to go very wrong in less than a year, would she be trusted to accompany Team Kakashi? She hadn't been exaggerating about the gulf between her and Yamato, even though they shared similarly powerful bloodline abilities. She wasn't sturdy enough to take the kind of hits Naruto did, and she certainly didn't have Kakashi's skill.
She really didn't know the answer, and she could only think of one basis for comparison that indicated she was skilled enough to be on the team: She was still stronger than Sasuke as a combatant. Would Tsunade trust this apprentice with those missions? Perhaps Sakura would have been more prepared than Sasuke was, or perhaps they were less desperate now than they would have been if that had happened?
Would ANBU work really change her life? Tsunade had implied that the harsh requirements often affected members. Aiko thought she could handle almost anything... but she didn't really know that much about what ANBU did. No one knew. She would be going in partially blind. That was terrifying.
The uncertainties welling up, she took too long to respond.
"Yes?" Tsunade prompted, mild irritation in her tone. "Do you need more time to think?"
Her heart was beating a harsh staccato against her ribs.
Yes. She needed more time to think. This wasn't a decision she could make on such short notice.
"No," Aiko found herself saying impulsively. "I want to accept a promotion and apply for a position in the ANBU unit, Hokage-sama. What do I need to do?"
"Leave it all to me." Tsunade idly dunked a cookie in her spiked tea and spun it around to make a current. "All that you need to do is report to the blue-roofed office building on the intersection of fifth and Inu tomorrow morning by four am. Tell the secretary that you have an appointment with special evaluations."
"Hai, Hokage-sama," she muttered hollowly, committing the details to memory. That was terribly early, but a full hour after the bars closed so the streets should have been cleared of those stragglers. It was probably arranged so that as few people as possible saw applicants like her entering the building. She'd never noticed a building like that before. Genjutsu? Possibly. Or it might just be nondescript.
A thought occurred. "W-will my team know?"
Tsunade snorted. "If they pull their heads from their posteriors and pay attention," she allowed. "Officially, you are not allowed to inform anyone outside of ANBU headquarters, but it is strongly discouraged to share your identity with anyone but your actual ANBU team. You might want to get a wig, by the way." She pointed absently at Aiko's reddish-orange mop of wavy locks. "In practice, I would follow most of that advice, except you can feel free to tell your team members in ANBU of your appointment, as well as one outside individual who will be your psychological contact. They will be expected to keep an eye on your mental state, as the added stress of ANBU work sometimes bothers people more than regular work."
Aiko felt a little green.
"I don't anticipate that being a problem with you, however," she allowed generously. "Your current profile indicates that you're about as stable as expected, with healthy compartmentalization techniques."
'Only a ninja would say something like that,' she thought vaguely. She cleared her throat, fingers tugging unconsciously at her hair. It grew fast and was long now—almost to the thinnest part of her waist. "A wig, Hokage-sama?" She had no idea where to get one of those.
Tsunade gave a restrained huff. "I would recommend as far from your natural coloring and current cut as possible," she pointed out, examining the girl in front of her. The wickedly amused expression in her eyes reminded Aiko startlingly of Naruto. "Either a plain black or something really…. Wild," she drew out teasingly. "How do you look in blue?"
Aiko was surprised into a giggle. She hadn't even considered that—her concern had been on actually acquiring a wig, but she had sort of thought that it would make sense to get something completely non-distinct. But it was true that the purpose of that sort of disguise wouldn't necessarily be to make her inconspicuous. Everyone looked at ANBU when they walked down a street, so she couldn't hope to hide among civilians or anything. It was just that they couldn't look at her and recognize that the girl in the mask had to be Aiko.
"Blue is fine," she managed, not entirely certain as to whether or not her Hokage was joking. It wasn't like she particularly cared one way or another, so why the hell not.
"Excellent." Tsunade snickered. "I'll present it to you tomorrow after your evaluation. Assuming you meet requirements for entrance, of course," she quickly qualified. "If you don't, we'll find another position for you."
By seven the next morning, Tsunade was parsing through the freshly stamped report on her desk with a smug expression. A series of spars and demonstrations, a short counseling session, word-association tests, and other devices had painted a clear picture for her that aligned well with Tsunade's own suspicions.
The girl was good. Tsunade had expected that skill-wise, of course, but she was also functionally stable and looked to be highly reliable. Agents that relied heavily on human interaction to detoxify after stress often suffered in ANBU when they couldn't discuss their duties, but Aiko was a recluse by nature. However, unlike many of those reclusive characters, she did a fairly good job of faking social interest when needed, a potentially valuable skill.
When her personality profile was added to her natural intelligence and sturdy ties to the village center, Aiko was as strong a candidate as Tsunade could have hoped for. Kakashi wouldn't be pleased, of course, but a month of heavy conditioning would easily mold her into an ANBU operative… one who Tsunade could trust without a doubt to be unaffiliated with Danzo's root. How much easier would it be to start picking at oddities with an extra set of ears directly in the small but crucial organization, especially when that operative was a paranoid little genius trained by Hatake Kakashi? She would be informed of her constant secondary mission soon, after Tsunade had managed to hunt her down a role in the roster.
Although the answer seemed obvious, she didn't really need another tracker right now. She had four Inuzuka alone in the ranks—there were plenty of experienced shinobi who were much less capable of transitioning to another role. Tsunade flipped through her options contemplatively, holding up a hand to silence Shizune. The girl obediently backed out of the office and quietly shut the door, recognizing that her mentor was thinking.
Infiltration was a possibility that Aiko in particular could excel at. Her characteristic emotional detachment would make it much harder for her to succumb to the typical foibles of shinobi stranded alone in enemy territory for extended periods…. But it wouldn't help Tsunade with her Root problem. No, that wouldn't do at all. She needed to be able to interact frequently with other operatives.
Front-line combat squad assignment would have fulfilled that criteria, but she took the option off the table immediately. She didn't actually want to endanger Aiko more than necessary, and not just because Hatake would be in her office glowering (until someone lost their temper and confiscated his remaining eye to cut that shit out, at least) when he inevitably found out. No, Aiko was a bit young for that sort of general assignment when it wasn't absolutely critical. Perhaps she could take those missions on an individual basis as a consultant, but not regularly, not now. One of the things that Tsunade most wanted to change about her village was the low life expectancy rate for shinobi, and one of the most efficient ways to get people killed was to send them out in high-pressure situations early and often.
'Well, what's the safest assignment available within the most dangerous role in the village hierarchy?' Her lips twisted into an ironic little smile. 'Why, guarding the Hokage and the village itself, of course. She would interact with multiple groups… and it would also keep her conveniently close to obscure her new posting.'
She didn't have to help the girl obscure her ANBU promotion, of course, but when the opportunity to make her life a little easier just dropped in her lap Tsunade didn't see a reason not to take it.
It was decided then. Aiko's first assignment would be split between guarding her personal office (a bit of a necessary joke, as Tsunade could damn well guard herself. The average threats were papercuts and restlessness, and no amount of ANBU could prevent that) and patrolling the village as the Uchiha police force had used to do every so often. The second posting would allow her to interact with her ANBU peers, and the first would give Tsunade ample opportunity to covertly communicate and prepare the girl for her possible future role in the upper echelons of intelligence work.
It was best not to have all her eggs in one basket, after all. She damn well intended to retire in a few years, and she had not one but three young people who were visibly well on their way to being Kage level shinobi (two of whom were a previous Kage's child and the other was her adorable student and one of the last scions of a founding clan. The potential postings even made sense in the tradition of leadership roles being inherited). It would be stupid to ignore preparing one, especially since the three were close enough that the two who didn't get the hat would probably be their Kage's closest advisors. Promotions gave them credibility, prestige, and visibility that they would desperately need.
Aiko felt dazed walking home. It was early morning, but she had already been physically taxed. The intellectual requirements of preliminary ANBU qualifications had been a breeze, at least, but she had too many other things on her mind to feel relaxed.
She'd promised herself that if she passed, she wouldn't put off talking to Kakashi this time. Their last argument (minor in the grand scheme of things) had been eclipsed by the subsequent lack of communication and festered stupidly. This situation was probably similar. She knew that he would have to respect her decision, but she still didn't want to address it. She didn't try to fool herself, however: trying to hide it from him would both be ineffective and damaging to their repaired but still slightly fragile dynamic.
'I should probably find him before the end of the day,' Aiko decided. 'I don't want to be immature and avoid things that make me uncomfortable. If I'm old enough for ANBU work, I'm old enough to talk to people I like about uncomfortable things without my arm being twisted.'
"Hey, Aiko!"
Speak of the devil.
No, not Kakashi. God only knows that he was never that perky. It was the other elephant in the room she was avoiding.
'Well, I can't very well make a new resolution that only applies to one person,' Aiko sighed, and put on a game face.
"Hi, Tenten. How are you?"
The other girl came to a stop, adjusting the weight of the pack on her back and waving her team on. Neji gave her a dirty look, but didn't bother to protest. "I'm fine," she allowed. A flicker of uncertainly crossed her face, inexpertly covered by a placating smile. "I meant to talk to you earlier—you kind of ran off in the hurry the last time I saw you."
'Oh hell,' Aiko cursed. That had probably been confusing for poor Tenten. "Yeah, I did," she admitted. "It was rude of me. To be honest, I was feeling really overwhelmed by all the noise and activity and socialization, and I tend to retreat when I'm uncomfortable."
Tenten grimaced. "I thought it was something like that." She sighed, resting a hand on her hip before seeming to realize they were standing in the street. Aiko noticed her discomfort and jerked her head to indicate they should start walking. As they fell into step, Tenten fidgeted a little. "You know, I wouldn't think that was such a big deal, except that you didn't say anything to me for what… a month and a half?" She frowned. "And I had to be the one to track you down," Tenten added, a little defensively. "That wasn't fair, you know."
Aiko swallowed, unconsciously tapping her fingers against her thigh in a pattern that spelled out 'need non-combat help'. Tenten didn't seem to notice, but a thin man to her left with a sleek ponytail glanced over in alarm, noted that she was just in an uncomfortable conversation, and gave an unsympathetic snort before hastily taking off as if to avoid the awkwardness.
She was a bit envious, once she caught herself frantically repeating the pattern and forced her fingers to stop. It wasn't a conversation she should run from.
"You're absolutely right."
May as well admit it. They were both well-aware.
"I was out of the village for almost all of that time, but that's just an excuse and not a reason. I ran into a situation that made me uncomfortable and intentionally avoided getting in a similar one." (Aiko was avoidant, not unaware of her own actions.)
Tenten gave a rueful smile. "You know, you're making it hard to be mad at you when you're so factual and self-aware. I had a whole speech planned out."
Aiko chewed at the inside of her cheek, feeling awkward. When her companion made to speak, she slouched her shoulders in a little defensively. She already knew she'd messed up, and was pretty sure what was coming. She even knew she deserved it, and wasn't particularly heartbroken. That still didn't mean she wanted to hear it.
"I think I deserve someone who isn't going to do that to me," Tenten pointed out delicately. "I think we're done, whatever we were in the first place. Still…" she glanced at Aiko shyly. "Friends? I think we should start over."
The offer to be friends was probably just a way for Tenten to feel better about sort-of-dumping her sort-of-girlfriend. It smoothed over hurt egos, and allowed her mental image of herself as a nice girl not to change. Otherwise, it sort of seemed like they'd had a makeout one-night-stand. Tenten seemed like the kind of person who thought that 'nice girls' didn't do things like that. Aiko fundamentally disagreed—definitions like that were stupid and restrictive.
Aiko saw right through it, but she didn't mind indulging the maneuver. "Yeah." She gave a fake smile. Unlike Sai's inept attempts, her fake smiles reached her eyes. Tenten looked relieved at it. "Friends."
When they parted ways, it was spectacularly awkward, but at least it was over. Aiko gave a deep sigh of relief. At least it was settled. 'And hey, my talk with Kakashi can't really get worse than that clusterfuck of awkward,' she pointed out to herself. 'He can hardly dump me.' Her shishou was a bit protective, but even he had to know she couldn't avoid specialization and outside assignments forever. Granted, the change was probably going to be more sudden than he'd approve of, but he had been loosening the reins lately. Considering his precise, controlling personality, any effort in that regard was significant.
Despite her resolve, she didn't actually find Kakashi until the next day when she half-heartedly waited outside the clearing where he was sitting cross-legged in front of the memorial stone. Aiko didn't want to take advantage of the trust he'd placed in her with the Hiraishin to track him down unless it was something critical—flashing into the middle of his home (where she had never been) in order to tell him that she was signed up for ANBU training would definitely be a violation of his comfort zone.
"You can come out, you know."
'I guess that's an invitation.' Aiko slowly walked over, crossing her arms into her torso and slightly regretting not checking the forecast. She really had no tolerance for cold. It would have been a good day for a scarf and that hideous but snuggly Chuunin vest.
Kakashi deigned to look up at her and clearly noted her discomfort, though apparently not the source. A hint of dark amusement flashed in his eye. "I don't bite."
Well, okay. That was a partially accurate assessment of her unease.
"I know." She flopped down to the ground next to him, letting their legs brush to leech some of his body heat. (That was a valid survival strategy, she was sure. As well as a convenient distraction). He allowed the contact, though he seemed a bit uncomfortable with it, quickly glancing away after he looked at her.
That was new. He'd gotten used to letting her hang off of him. Apparently her recent distance had registered.
Made sense. He wasn't a man who missed much.
"I talked to Tsunade day before yesterday." He hmmed, a familiar signal for her to continue. "She told me to apply for ANBU." She indulged in a quick check of his features. He didn't appear to have reacted. "I accepted. I thought I should tell you."
"I see."
Oh no. The stiff tone made her wince.
"What exactly will you be doing?"
She wrapped her arms around her knees and stared down as if her toes were fascinating. "In-village positions on guard rosters, mostly."
'Just that and spying on an internal traitorous organization, but I can't tell you that. Not worrying at all, shishou.'
Then she dared a cringing look back to find out he was watching her steadily. It was a bit unnerving. Aiko swallowed, hard, pulse jumping. She did so desperately want for him not to be upset with her. "I'm not like, leaving the team," she explained in a rush of words, just wanting to make him stop focusing all that intensity on her. "She says that if I get the training, I can-"
"You don't have to explain yourself to me." His tone was fond, but tinged with sadness. "You can't stay with your genin sensei forever. That's not how pack works."
"Pack?" she asked awkwardly.
"Pack," he confirmed, leaning back on his hands and looking up. "Puppies grow up. I'm not so forgetful that I don't remember that."
I'm aware the Tenten scene was uncomfortable—it was meant to be. Because even mature teenagers are awkward, guys. It's a little funnier in retrospect, but being in that place sucks. Poor honeys.