Chapter 2

Cradling the half-empty saucer of sake between slender palms, Tsunade stared at the image of the attractive young blond woman in its still surface. Tonight she felt every one of her fifty-five years. Thank the gods for the transformation jutsu!

She snorted.

Briefly, the Hokage considered consulting the scrying crystal to monitor Soriya's location, but swiftly rejected the notion. ANBU could do their job without her interference. She sat propped in bed, reports she'd been pretending to read scattered over the covers. They just could not hold her attention this evening. Slowly, she rolled elegant shoulders to relieve some anticipatory tension. A moment later, amber eyes flicked sharply to the bedroom door. The soft “tap, tap” on the sturdy wood announced the presence of a visitor.

“Come.”

A trim, wolf-masked figure slipped silently into the room. The ANBU operative offered a graceful bow to the woman ensconced on the bed.

“Hokage.” The masculine voice was crisp and professional.

“Report.”

“Operative Myugi reports that the target spent the day in the genealogy section of the research library again. Considering the sources she consulted, he postulates that she is attempting to trace her clan's ancestry and genetic makeup. For what purpose he is unsure, though he speculates she may be trying to assess the limits of her own powers.” The ANBU paused. “She also briefly consulted the political science section, and seemed particularly interested in the Land of the Wind.”

The Hokage stiffened. “Have you determined what she sought?”

The operative lifted a shoulder, wolf's head dipping to the side uncertainly.

“We are unsure, Hokage. The documents Myugi examined seem to concern the lineage of Wind Country's monarchy. The target also checked some references on Kazekage and the Village Hidden in the Sand, but her primary focus seemed to be the civilian government, rather than the ninja village. She appeared especially interested in material concerning Prince Mujito and his Chief of Security, Yukio Ryuji. Intelligence is trying to discern the pattern in her research, but they have yet to determine her true purpose.”

Tsunade waved briefly to indicate the ANBU should move on, and the nodding wolf's head complied.

“You are aware that Intelligence has recently confirmed that Yukio Ryuji was an alias for a ninja from the Land of Wind captured in a border skirmish some twenty-five years ago. He was going by the name Haruma Anji at the time. He was given over to the custody of the psych-nin for evaluation, as Interrogation had been unable to glean any useful information from him.” The agent drew a breath.

“Myugi has determined that Soriya Kanzin consulted the records of Anji's captivity here and matched the dates with the tenure of her late uncle, Akira Kanzin. He was Head of Psych at the time, and the treating psych-nin in charge of Anji's case.”

Tsunade sighed.

Clever girl. It's time she knew anyway.

Aloud, she affirmed, “I am aware of Akira Kanzin's connection to Anji.”

“Yes. Well, then you also know that Anji escaped from custody, taking Kanzin hostage. ANBU tracked them to the border between Fire and Wind, but during the chaos of the pursuit, the targets were swept into the Ganji River and over the falls. Neither the ANBU team, nor the Retrieval Unit that arrived later were able to find any trace of either of them. They were presumed dead. Until the new information surfaced on Yukio Ryuji,” he concluded.

“And now Soriya knows her uncle's death was ultimately caused by Ryuji.” The Hokage considered the likely implications in silence. The wolf-masked ANBU waited patiently, hands at his sides.

But Ryuji is no longer at issue. For what could she be searching?

Tsunade's mind circled around the problem.

She knows something. Something she learned from Mujito, or perhaps Ryuji. But what?

The Hokage frowned. Deciding to take another tack, she directed, “Tell me of Soriya's whereabouts this evening.”

“She left the library at 8 PM, when it closed. She ate a quick dinner at the dumpling stand on East Benbo Street. As has been her habit for the last several days, she then entered the memorial grounds at approximately 8:45 PM. She is currently under surveillance there.” The masked ninja paused.

“On a related topic, the ANBU team conducting surveillance on Yori Itasuki's residence reported that Kakashi Hatake showed up unexpectedly today. He did not attempt to hide his presence. Our agent was unable to hear his conversation with Yori Itasuki due to standing orders to remain undetected. It is folly to approach Hatake too closely; his senses are acute. The agent was unwilling to alert him to our presence unnecessarily.”

“Wise,” Tsunade agreed. “Though Kakashi probably suspected it anyway. He is aware of Soriya and Yori's history. His sudden appearance there, after so many years, indicates he intends to involve himself in this. He means to warn me by approaching openly.” Tsunade smiled darkly. “How thoughtful.” She considered. This could ultimately work to her advantage.

“Follow Kakashi discreetly, but do not interfere with him. Is that understood?”

“And if he should detect us?”

“With that one, it's not a question of 'if' but 'when'.” She snorted. “When this happens, direct him to me. That is all.”

The masked shinobi executed a crisp bow, then turned, exiting the room on silent feet. The door closed softly behind him.

Tsunade brought the saucer of sake to her lips, tipping it slowly upwards. The smooth, clear liquid flowed over her tongue. Swallowing, she placed the now-empty saucer on the nightstand.

So, Kakashi... Let's see if you can unravel the mystery surrounding this girl. For her own sake, as well as all of ours.

Sighing, the Hokage reached for the bottle of sake once more. Silently, she saluted the one-eyed shinobi as she settled back into her pillows. Events were becoming more interesting by the moment. It was going to be a long night.

The cool evening breeze caressed Soriya's cheekbones, ruffling the long tendrils of hair that framed her face. The sensation was a welcome relief from the enclosed stuffiness of the library. Her heavy mass of dark red hair, elaborately braided and coiled at the crown of her head, was held in place by several jeweled sticks. A thick ponytail was given permission to swing freely to the small of her back. Though lovely to behold, the intricate arrangement was giving the kunoichi a splitting headache.

Frowning, Soriya rubbed the center of her forehead with two fingers. Encased in form-fitting black, the jonin's slim body blended easily with the shadows. Only her hands, face, and upper chest were exposed, gleaming pale in the moonlight. Although there was no need to hide in this place, she always approached cautiously. It was a habit she just couldn't seem to break. Soundlessly, her boots traversed the packed earth. She paused in a stand of trees, the glow of the lamp-lit memorial clearly visible up ahead. It appeared deserted.

Slowly, the kunoichi inhaled through her nose, held the breath a moment, then released it through slightly parted lips. Stepping out from the shelter of the trees, she approached the sundial-shaped stone. Gray eyes wandered over the carved ebony surface before settling on the two recently added names. The fingertips of her right hand traced the letters, as though seeking to imprint them on her skin. They were already seared into her memory.

Emiko. Natsu. I have avenged you. And more becomes clear to me each day. Do you know? Or care?

Her mind slipped back in time, memories of genin training with her younger teammates flooding into her brain. Emiko was the quiet, steady personality of the group--eager to make friends and develop the necessary trust required of a squad. Clever with her hands, the brown-haired girl had delighted in designing and gifting her partners with ingeniously concealed weapons. Soriya still possessed the chakra-infused dagger that could be made to assume another shape; currently it was coiled around her booted calf like a snake.

A hand reached up to finger one of the jeweled sticks anchoring her hair. Emiko had made them; a functionally beautiful gift for Soriya. They were hollow—designed to hold poisons, acids, and even substances that could be combined to produce a powerful explosive. One evening, she and Emiko had slaved over Soriya's hair for hours, until both of their arms ached, seeking styles that would enable the kunoichi to pull any desired stick accurately, without tumbling the entire arrangement into disarray. Over the years, Soriya had lost count of the number of times those simple hair decorations had come in handy.

Natsu had always chided Soriya about the length of her hair. He thought it unnecessarily long.

“It's dangerous in close combat,” he would say.

She would jokingly counter that taijutsu was his specialty, and as the “muscle” of the group, he was supposed to keep the enemy from getting too close to her. But in reality, Natsu understood Soriya's hair served a specific purpose, other than mere vanity. It was a lure to the unwary. A calculated distraction designed to draw in one's prey. Much the same way does the Venus fly trap display a beautiful red center hoping to snare foolish insects. Coupled with Soriya's ability to mesmerize and confuse, it made her a formidable opponent. And an excellent spy.

Quite often, it had been her task to immobilize a foe long enough for Natsu to finish him off with his taijutsu, or for Emiko's hand-held crossbow to kill or paralyze as desired. That weapon had been Emiko's pride and joy. Her finest creation, she'd called it. Gone now. Destroyed during the chaos of Soriya's desperate escape from Wind Country. She flinched back from the memory.

No. Don't go there. Not yet.

“Natsu...” Lips soundlessly shaped the name, as gray eyes darkened with sorrow. Anger lurked just below the surface, threatening to erupt. The fingers of her left hand fisted at her side.

No! Stop this. It does no good to dwell on it. The mission was completed. It is the shinobi way.

But the grim set to her jaw belied her thoughts. Unbidden, chakra trickled from her, causing the long ponytail to rise and sway alarmingly. Her right hand splayed open against the memorial stone and she would have gone to her knees, but for the approach of soft, deliberate footsteps.

Silently, Kakashi studied the slender young woman standing over the monument. He had been careful to rely only on stealth, rather than ninjutsu or genjutsu, to hide his presence; chakra usage was like lighting a beacon where this particular kunoichi was concerned. He wanted to observe her awhile and consider his approach.

Silently cursing his inability to see her face from his current position, the Copy Ninja daringly extended physical senses of hearing and smell, but detected nothing unusual. A trace scent of honeysuckle--her preferred fragrance, he recalled--drifted to him on the evening breeze. He breathed in deeply, watching and listening as she slowly traced the names of her deceased companions.

The violent clenching of her left hand drew his eye like an arrow. Ominously, he could feel her chakra concentrate; it stirred the tree leaves, rustling them madly even as her tresses began to rise. Tensing at the intangible threat she suddenly presented, Kakashi ran through his options.

Short-circuiting her pent-up fury seemed wisest. Deciding to make his presence known, the elite jonin calmly stepped forward, hands in pockets.

“Suki.”

She froze. As if it were as simple as snuffing a candle flame, the oppressive build-up of chakra vanished. The kunoichi's long, red ponytail settled once more at the small of her back. She did not turn.

“I no longer answer to that name.”

The voice was smooth and even, evincing no sign of the woman's momentary distress. The heavy emotion of a moment ago was gone, as though it had never been. Once again, Kakashi wished he could see her face. This time she did not disappoint. Drawing her right hand back to her side, the kunoichi slowly turned to stare at the masked shinobi.

Kakashi compared the heart-shaped face, pert nose, and full lips with his memory and found its match. The eyes, however...

Cold and expressionless, they were silver mirrors that reflected rather than revealed. Instantly, he could see why Yori and Izumi were concerned. For a moment he felt as if he were staring at a beautiful doll, rather than a living woman. He was almost surprised when she spoke.

“Why have you come?”

“To see you,” he responded quietly. “It's been too long. My fault, of course,” he offered, taking the blame at the outset.

One corner of her mouth quirked upwards. She arched an elegant brow.

“My, my, aren't you generous.” Gray eyes narrowed. “If Tsunade sent you to spy on me, you can tell her not to worry. I have no intention of losing control and descending into madness.” She paused as if to consider that. “At least, not today,” she amended dryly. “Sorry to waste your time.”

“Tsunade didn't send me, but she probably knows I'm here,” he nodded toward the trees. “She has you under ANBU surveillance, as I'm sure you realize. Yori and Izumi, too. I stopped by the house earlier. They were taking care to keep their distance, but I detected the subtle presence, nonetheless.”

“They watch me all the time,” Soriya acknowledged. For a moment, he thought he glimpsed anger in her eyes, but she blinked and it was gone. “Though I have given all that I am to this village, still, it is not enough. They fear me.”

“Fear you?” Kakashi's voice was incredulous. “Why would they? Throughout your career--as genin, chunin, and now jonin--you have proven your loyalty and competence.”

“They fear me because now, after my latest mission debriefing, they are finally beginning to suspect the true horrors of which I am capable.” She smiled darkly, then snorted in self-derision. “If they only knew...” She trailed off, eyes sliding away from him.

“Knew what?” he prodded, when it became clear she didn't intend to finish the thought. Ignoring the question, she turned back to the memorial stone.

“Kakashi. Tell me. Does it get any easier?”

The Copy Ninja's dark eye focused unerringly on the names of his former teammates. Remembering Rin and Obito for a moment, feeling the ache of old regrets, he paused to consider his answer.

“No. It is a pain that you will carry forever. A heavy burden that never leaves you. But...I have found that this burden can be a source of strength as well.” Kakashi felt her surprise as she turned to face him. “Don't misunderstand me,” he cautioned. “It is the great regret in my life that I could not save my friends. I would choose a different path if I could do it over again. However, because I have suffered such a loss, I've made it my goal never to lose companions as long as I am in a position to prevent it. To become powerful enough that I would never have to make such a choice again.”

“A worthy goal, indeed. But can you truly achieve it?” she asked, letting her gaze wander over the wild silver hair, barely restrained by the slanted headband concealing his left eye. His nose under the lower mask was straight, the chin slightly pointed. She could only guess at the shape of the mouth, though the outline of the lips suggested they were well-formed, neither too thick nor too thin. Finally, she settled restless orbs on his dark eye. He shrugged a shoulder gracefully.

“So far, it has enabled me to continue on in the shinobi way. I have met few ninja who are my equal in skill,” he said simply, stating a fact. “But, I did not come here to talk about myself. I was worried about you...Soriya.” He hesitated slightly before speaking the unfamiliar name. It seemed to suit this serious woman; Suki seemed merely a child's name. There was nothing innocent or childlike about Soriya Kanzin.

“Tell me what happened to you these last three years. Yori told me the Hokage and Morino came to see you. What did they want?”

“I won't discuss the mission. Not with you,” she stated flatly. “However,” she continued as he opened his mouth to speak, “I can tell you what the Hokage wanted. She wanted to talk about my parents, and Yori's.”

Kakashi blinked; that was not what he had expected. Curiosity aroused, he asked, “Had ANBU discovered any new information regarding those investigations?”

“In a manner of speaking. Though much of it was speculation. The Hokage told me she believed my biological parents' disappearance was directly linked to the murders of Yoshi and Mika Itasuki. She postulated that someone powerful and well-connected within our village may have sold information about my bloodline and its increasing powers.”

“You're saying...” Kakashi's mind spun quickly.

“Yes. Yori's parents were killed because someone was after me.” Bitterness permeated her voice. “They wanted the Kanzin Kekkei Genkai.” She turned leaden gray eyes on Kakashi. “Yori doesn't know, and I'd like to keep it that way. Please.”

He nodded sympathetically.

Yori's right. She blames herself for their deaths.

“It appears we have a traitor in our midst,” she continued, “so the fewer people who know, the better, anyway. Information I've obtained recently has yielded some clues as to the possible identity of this individual. Not many people have access to my records, and even fewer would have understood the significance of what they contained, at least back then. My powers did not fully manifest until years after Yori's parents were killed.” She fell silent.

Kakashi pondered the implications. He knew she wasn't telling him everything.

She's hunting the traitor. She probably knows who it is, or thinks she does. Does Tsunade know?

Something bothered him.

“Soriya, you spoke of the 'Kanzin Kekkei Genkai'. But the intelligence file I saw while investigating the Itasukis' murders detailed your lineage, and Yori's. There was no record of either the Kanzin or Itasuki clans ever possessing such a power. They have always been minor, though well-respected, clans in Fire Country.”

“This is true,” Soriya readily agreed, “but I've been conducting my own research. It seems there have been traces of power in the blood going back at least four generations, and perhaps longer. Many documents were lost during the Ninja World War decades ago, so I cannot be certain. But the signs are there, if one knows what to look for.

“Apparently, the power initially manifested in varied and subtle ways: merchants who were considered unusually lucky in their deals, a gifted psych-nin who literally 'felt' the emotions of his patients, and even a diplomat remarkably skilled in treaty negotiation.” She paused, considering. “Individually, they mean nothing. Mere random chance, laced with good luck. But when sequenced together, over time, one can trace the path of ever-increasing power. Especially easy to do, as our clan was never very large.”

Shrugging an elegant shoulder, Soriya mused, “I wonder if that is perhaps due to the inherent instability of the genetic combinations required to produce the power. There are an inordinately large number of miscarriages, early deaths, and mental illness in the family history. Until I was born, my father was the last living member of the clan. His younger sister died in childbirth, and his older brother was killed a few years later.” Her eyes hardened at this last, but she did not elucidate further. Instead, she asked a question.

“You are aware that my mother had Hyuga blood?”

Kakashi thought back. “I do seem to recall that fact being mentioned briefly in the old reports. It was not considered significant as she was far removed from the main branch of the family, and barely a member of one of the cadet branches. She was not known to possess any special abilities, such as the Byakuygan.”

“No. She did not have such a power, and although my father was a perceptive and empathetic man, he did not appear to exhibit any unusual strengths, either.” Soriya stopped, considering her words. “I suspect the addition of Hyuga blood, no matter how dilute, combined with the Kanzin blood to produce the Kekkei Genkai as it exists in me.”

“And just what is this power, Soriya?” Kakashi dared, stepping into her personal space. He had to know what he was dealing with. That, and he wanted to test her, see what she could do.

He felt the full force of her attention almost as a physical blow. He resisted the urge to step back from her. Instinctively, he knew it would be perilous to show fear. Not if he wanted her trust.

“Would you like a small taste of my power?” she purred, gray eyes darkening perceptively. “I promise not to hurt you with it.”

“Why do I not find that reassuring?” he asked rhetorically, rolling his visible eye.

Her chin rose. “Give me your hand,” she requested imperiously, tone daring him to refuse.

Mouth suddenly dry, Kakashi slowly raised his left hand and presented it to the kunoichi, palm up. Her face filled his vision and she smiled.

“Cautious, as always, to give me your non-dominant hand. Please. Take off your glove.”

He quickly complied, tensing as she moved closer. The scent of honeysuckle filled his nostrils, and he breathed in deeply. Her luminous gray eyes seemed very large close to his own dark one. She took his bare hand carefully between her own and placed it palm down against her chest, his thumb and fingertips straddling the base of her throat.

“Relax,” she whispered.

Staring into her beautiful eyes, which by now were mostly pupil, Kakashi analyzed her genjutsu technique. Simple mesmerization, he concluded with disappointment. For a shinobi at his level, it was easy enough to escape.

Or should have been.

With sudden trepidation, he realized it was impossible to look away from her. He considered trying to physically break free, but a presence in his mind, well behind his mental barriers, startled him.

“Wha--!” He tried to form words, but found he could not move at all. Instead, he stood there, heart pounding, as an old image was dredged up out of his memory.

A younger Soriya, tearfully asking him, “Why can't you understand? I need to do this. I thought you would be proud of me!”

“Your motives are misguided, Suki. You cannot become a true shinobi if you are solely driven by the need for revenge. That way lies madness. I've seen it before, to my sorrow. I cannot watch you travel down that path—it will only lead to grief.”

She stood before him, breath hitching in her throat. The hurt in those beautiful gray eyes wounded him.

“Fine. You do what you have to. As will I.”

Abruptly, she turned on her heel and stalked away from him. She did not look back. His hand twitched slightly, as though it would draw her back to him, but he resisted the urge. Closing his eye, he sighed, shoulders slumping wearily...

Struggling out of the memory, Kakashi concentrated fiercely on the feel of his palm at the base of the kunoichi's throat. Her pulse point throbbed under his fingertips and he swallowed. Of its own accord, his thumb moved to stroke the soft skin.

Inhaling sharply, Soriya stepped back, releasing him. Long lashes swept down, hiding her expression.

“Now you understand,” she murmured softly, regret shading the words.

The Copy Ninja said nothing for a long moment. His heart thumped loudly in his ears. He drew a deep breath, forcing a calm he didn't feel.

She's a telepath. And quite a powerful one. She got past my shields like they weren't even there. No wonder the Hokage is concerned. If this power were to be harnessed for ill use--

“How long?” he asked, noting with mild chagrin that his voice sounded huskier than normal. If the redhead noticed, she gave no sign.

“The ability initially manifested during the chunin exams. Since then, I have vastly improved in both skill and power.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, rather than boastful. “The exact nature and extent of my abilities are highly classified, by order of the Hokage. You can see why.”

“Indeed.” He thought some more. “But the Hokage knows of it. And Morino, I presume. And at least one other, probably. Our traitor, perhaps?”

Soriya shrugged, noncommittally. “There are at least three or four others I can think of that know. But none of them could have predicted the extent of my abilities eighteen years ago, when my parents disappeared. Going back fourteen years to the Itasukis' murders doesn't help, either. The Kekkei Genkai hadn't manifested yet. There was no way to know I'd develop such power. Only in the last few years have I come to understand and master it myself. On-the-job training, if you will.” The bitterness in her voice was cutting.

Once again, Kakashi wondered at the true purpose behind Soriya's mission. He would have to confront Tsunade in the near future, he was certain.

“You said Tsunade offered you a mission. Why was Morino there? It is not standard procedure for the head of the Torture and Interrogation Unit to attend such meetings.”

She shrugged. “Once the Hokage explained the mission and I accepted, she said he would be handling my preparation and training.”

Kakashi didn't like the sound of that. Ibiki Morino was a shinobi who clearly enjoyed his work. Though generally, he preferred to employ psychological torture, rather than mere physical brutality in order to break a subject's will.

Sensing the darkening of the elite jonin's mood and guessing its cause, Soriya added, “Just so you know, that ten months was the most difficult and intense training I've ever experienced. But it's entirely thanks to him I'm still alive.” Her mouth turned down in a frown. “Though I confess, there were times when I thought he was seriously trying to kill me.” She shuddered. “Those are lessons I'll never forget.”

“I imagine so,” Kakashi replied absently, thinking that he would speak with Ibiki Morino at the first opportunity. After Tsunade, he decided.

Soriya drawled, “You can talk to Ibiki-sensei if you like, but he won't tell you anything. Not without the Hokage's approval.” Seeing the expression on his face, she laughed, a genuine sparkling sound.

“No, Kakashi...I didn't read your mind. I just know how it works. I have watched you for years, after all.”

Emotion flickered in her eyes, but it was gone before he could name it. The redhead's features smoothed back to their usual neutrality, though her eyes seemed less cold.

“And now, if you'll forgive me, I'm tired. I have two classes to teach tomorrow and I'd like to be fresh. It was good to talk to you, Kakashi. I trust I'll be seeing you around.” She nodded at him, knowing full well she'd piqued the Copy Ninja's interest. He had ever been curious, like a cat, and as tenacious as the dog pack he could summon at will. Giving him a sardonic salute, she summoned chakra for a translocation jutsu, slowly fading from sight.

For a long moment, the silver-haired shinobi stared at the spot where the kunoichi had been standing. Then, shaking himself slightly, he called chakra, vanishing in a puff of smoke.