Chapter 4

From her desk, Tsunade watched the sun's pink orb slowly descend beneath the horizon. She pondered the implications of the latest ANBU report while she waited for Kakashi to arrive. Would his involvement with Soriya make the Copy Ninja more effective in this case, or would it hamper his judgment? Years ago, when confronted with a similar situation, he had chosen to pull back and maintain his objectivity. He'd left the girl to decide her own fate.

But the years change us all. Can he, will he, make the same decision again?

In any case, Kakashi was important to Soriya. He might be the only one who could stay her hand, if need be. The kunoichi was incalculably dangerous. That alone was reason enough to give the shinobi a pass on his earlier loss of control.

In truth, it amused her that the normally cool, unflappable ninja could be so strongly affected by a woman, just like any other man. Though, in fairness to him, the Hokage conceded that Soriya was not just any woman. She chuckled.

Kakashi Hatake didn't stand a chance.

“Something amusing?” drawled the placid voice from her open window. “Care to share?” The elite jonin stepped lightly down from the sill into the room.

Tsunade eyed him sternly. “Don't you know it's unwise to sneak up on your leader? Ever hear of knocking?” Not expecting a reply, she added slyly, “And no. I don't care to share my inner musings on your love life. I'm not sure you'd be pleased to hear them anyway.”

Kakashi had the grace to flush, but offered no apology. Instead, he walked to the chair in front of her desk and dropped into it. Folding long-fingered hands in his lap, he slouched, propping a foot up on the desk to rock the chair back on two legs. Coolly, he addressed her.

“So. Want to tell me what's going on, instead? You obviously want something from me. And Soriya, I take it. This mysterious mission of hers... Something doesn't seem right.”

The amber-eyed woman did not answer immediately. Instead, she reached into her bottom desk drawer for a sake bottle and two saucers. Slowly pouring for both of them, she proceeded to sip from her saucer delicately.

Kakashi's eye narrowed. Dropping the chair back to four legs, he reached for the offering with one hand, while lowering his mask with the other. Holding the saucer at an angle calculated to block most of the view of his unmasked face, he drank, draining the liquid in one continuous swallow. Repositioning the mask, he set the saucer down slightly harder than necessary on the desk's polished surface.

“You are angry,” Tsunade commented matter-of-factly. “That is unlike you.” She paused, considering. “I find it refreshing, actually.” At his look of chagrin, she smiled. The smile didn't last.

“You ask me what I want from you. I tell you three things.

“First, discover the identity of the traitor who set ninja on the Kanzin and Itasuki clans, and deal with him accordingly.” The Hokage's voice was death.

“We believe this individual's ultimate goal was to abduct Soriya, perhaps to gain control of her Kekkei Genkai. We also know this person operated through civilian agents in the Wind Country's monarchy. The identities of these agents were supplied by Kazekage of the Hidden Sand Village. In return for a very large favor, of course,” she added wryly.

Kakashi's eyebrow rose with interest. The Hokage asked a question. “How much do you know of the monarchy in Wind Country? I speak particularly of the succession.”

Taking a moment to order his thoughts, the Copy Ninja replied, “Lord Takamori has ruled Wind for thirty-seven years. He's considered a just and strong ruler, though for the last five years or so, there have been rumors of ill health. It's believed he suffers from a wasting sickness, though the exact nature of his condition is a closely guarded secret. He's made few public appearances in recent years, and talk of the succession has become commonplace. He had two sons, Kisho, the eldest, and heir, and Mujito, the younger son. But Prince Mujito died suddenly of an aneurysm about two months ago...” Kakashi's voice trailed off as he made the connection. He looked sharply at the Hokage. She nodded.

“You begin to see. What I tell you now is known only to myself and one other.” Her voice was quiet. “I offered Soriya this assignment based on specific recommendations for someone with chakra-suppressing abilities far beyond the norm of most jonin. The recommendations were made by none other than Lord Gaara, the Kazekage of the Sand Village.”

His eye widened. “The Kazekage? But that means--”

“Yes. Sand engineered the assassination of Prince Mujito, working with and through Leaf ninja as their agents.”

Stunned, Kakashi took a moment to digest the news. Finally, he asked in disbelief, “But why? Why was such deceit necessary? Shinobi from Sand are exceptionally skilled. Surely they would not request 'outside help' on a task as sensitive as this.”

“I was suspicious of their motives myself, especially as relations between our two villages had been sorely strained under the previous Kazekage's tenure. I have not forgotten their past betrayal. But Lord Gaara was careful to explain the exact nature of the difficulty.

“You see, Mujito Takamori was gathering rogue ninja in an attempt to assassinate his elder brother, Kisho. Lord Gaara discovered this, and was able to use his shinobi to discreetly thwart three separate attempts on Prince Kisho's life. Unfortunately, the assassins killed themselves to avoid capture, and so could not be forced to reveal Prince Mujito as their employer. To complicate matters, Mujito cannily arranged an attempt on his own life, which occurred at the time of the second attempt on Kisho. This, of course, had the benefit of deflecting suspicion away from himself and onto some of the more highly ranked nobles. Conveniently, the rogue ninja were detected and killed to a man by Mujito's Chief of Security.”

The Hokage paused to refill her saucer. She quirked a speculative eyebrow at the masked shinobi. He waved her off, thinking furiously.

Shrugging, Tsunade sipped her drink. She commented idly, “You see the Kazekage's difficulty. He did not wish Prince Kisho, a strong, capable leader, and the rightful heir, killed. He also could not allow the monarchy direct control over a large army of rogue ninja, should Mujito succeed in taking the throne. As in all of the Five Great nations with large ninja villages, the Sand Village is independent and on an equal footing with the civilian government. That balance would be threatened should the second son become King.

“Yet, neither did Lord Gaara want it to become known that Prince Mujito was behind the assassination attempts.”

“He sought to prevent civil war,” Kakashi stated flatly.

“Yes. And King Takamori's condition was gradually worsening, though he was not considered in danger of imminent death. The Kazekage decided his best option was to remove the younger son, thus securing the succession for the rightful heir, and ending the threat of civil war. The plan had the added benefit of ridding Sand of the risk an army of ninja beholden to the monarchy posed.”

“That would be the obvious solution,” Kakashi agreed dryly. “What went wrong?”

“The teams he sent were detected before they could make contact with the Prince. And these were teams of elite jonin, no mere chunin. Most were killed, but one shinobi managed to escape with his life. He claimed that Prince Mujito had a rogue ninja who could sniff out chakra users. He suspected this man was none other than Yukio Ryuji, Mujito's Chief of Security.”

Kakashi started at the name.

Observing him keenly, Tsunade surmised, “So, she told you of him, did she?” Promising.

“My understanding is that he was ultimately responsible for the capture, torture, and death of her teammate, Emiko Hagane. Soriya swore revenge on him.” The Copy Ninja paused. “He is dead, I presume?”

Tsunade snorted. “Oh yes. Quite dead. Along with twenty of his best men. But I am getting ahead of myself.

“Yukio Ryuji was actually an alias for Haruma Anji, a rogue ninja captured twenty-five years ago during a raid on our western border. He was questioned by the Torture and Interrogation Unit, but they were unable to break his mental defenses. As this was unusual, he was turned over to the psych-nin for further study. Soriya's uncle, Akira Kanzin, was the head of Psych at the time, and he took charge of Anji personally. From Kanzin's personnel file, it appears he was extraordinarily gifted, able to experience emotions and even flashes of images from his patients.” She paused, staring down at her reflection in the sake saucer pensively.

“But something went horribly wrong. Anji abducted Kanzin and escaped from the psych ward. ANBU pursued, and was able to track them as far as the Ganji River, but during the resultant battle, Anji and his captive were knocked into the river and swept over the falls. No bodies were recovered, and they were presumed dead.

“That is, until the Kazekage contacted me three years ago with new information concerning Yukio Ryuji.” She stopped, tossing back another mouthful of sake.

“Was Soriya aware of this when she accepted the mission?” Kakashi asked. Somehow he doubted it.

Tsunade did not reply immediately. Finally, she answered softly, “No. I did not consider it wise to inform her at that time. She was told only that Ryuji was a rogue ninja who might have information regarding her parents and the Itasukis. She was to ascertain what he knew, if anything, then terminate him. Ostensibly because the client wished it, but really because of his role in the raid and Akira Kanzin's kidnapping and subsequent death twenty-five years ago.” Her eyes hardened. “Frankly, his suspected involvement in the circumstances surrounding Soriya's family was more than enough reason for me to sign his death warrant.”

Then she sighed, adding, “I believe Soriya recently discovered Ryuji's role in the death of her uncle. However, I don't know how she knew to search the records library for those particular files. Clearly, she knows something. I want to know what it is,” Tsunade declared, looking intently at the impassive shinobi. “But, back to the mission.

“The Kazekage was unable to get anyone close to the Prince without Ryuji detecting them. Sand ninja are indeed highly skilled. However, they are relatively few in number. Lord Gaara came to Leaf because he expected we would have shinobi with the requisite abilities for the task.” She smirked, then added, “Also, he had information he knew we wanted, the sly dog.

“Sand discovered it was Yukio Ryuji, ostensibly acting for Prince Mujito, who was responsible for the Itasukis' murders. He was also suspected of orchestrating Soriya's parents' disappearance years earlier. However, the sand ninja were unable to discern the motive behind either of these actions.

“I, of course, had no intention of informing them of Soriya's unique powers. But someone else was clearly aware of them. I want whoever it is,” the Hokage stated flatly, “dead or alive.” She flipped a hand negligently. “Whichever is easiest.” Both knew it was far easier to kill than to capture.

Kakashi summarized, “So...you offered the mission to Soriya, hoping it would ultimately lead to the identity of the traitor.” He frowned. “Wouldn't it have been better if you'd just told her everything to begin with?” When she just looked at him, he passed a hand over his face. “Sorry.”

The Hokage shrugged. “In hindsight, you may be right. But I had my reasons.”

He studied her unapologetic visage. “You don't trust her, do you?”

Refusing to be baited, she said only, “Soriya has always performed her duties admirably. She accepted the mission I offered, and withstood the grueling training required for its success. That's all you need to know.”

He stared at her a moment, then nodded. Thinking back to the dizzying rush of images glimpsed from Soriya's mind, he ventured, “Ibiki Morino was teaching her to suppress her chakra, even when stressed or injured. No wonder her level of power is so surprising,” he mused. “She controls it so tightly, you can't even sense it most of the time.”

“Only most?” Tsunade asked, eyes sharp. “She's slipping then. When she left Ibiki, her control was absolute. It had to be, as she was to infiltrate the palace right under Ryuji's nose. Her teammates were there only peripherally as backup and to relay messages at need. Also to aid in extracting her if the mission went sour. They were not personally subjected to Ibiki's rigorous training. An oversight that apparently cost Emiko Hagane her life, it seems.

“Though I'm not sure they could have mastered the chakra suppression as Soriya did, even with such training. Her powers are myriad and not well understood. And they appear to be increasing exponentially, from the reports I've received.” Tsunade looked the Copy Ninja in the eye.

“Which brings me to the second task I have for you. Determine, if you are able, the course of events that occurred between Soriya and Yukio Ryuji. There is no doubt that she set a trap for him and killed him. It's the manner of his death and the deaths of his men that puzzle me.” The Hokage frowned. “I mislike what I cannot clearly understand. It has a way of coming back to haunt one later.”

“What was unusual about the deaths?”

“Twenty bodies, plus Yukio Ryuji, scattered across an area roughly four hectares in diameter. Eight were obviously guarding the perimeter, not even facing the central area of conflict. No visible wounds on the twenty. At least, none the ANBU Retrieval Unit could detect. Ryuji is another matter entirely, and one better explained by someone on the scene,” the Hokage opined.

“Why was the RU there? Who were they sent to retrieve?”

Tsunade sighed heavily, but her gaze did not falter. “They were summoned by Natsu Oseki to retrieve the bodies of Emiko Hagane and Soriya Kanzin.” As Kakashi stiffened, she continued slowly, “Or so we thought. When they arrived, what they actually discovered were the bodies of Emiko and Natsu. Emiko's body had been prepared and wrapped for transport, presumably by Natsu. Though I have reason to believe Sand shinobi assisted in the retrieval of her remains.”

“How did Natsu die?”

Tsunade glanced away from the silver-haired shinobi, chewing her bottom lip. After a moment, she turned back, amber eyes unreadable.

“It appears he attempted to intervene in the...” she searched for the word, “altercation between Soriya and Ryuji. He was shot in the throat by a small hand-held crossbow. The bolt was poisoned.” She locked eyes with the Copy Ninja, who stared back, unflinching. “It was the favored weapon designed and carried by Emiko Hagane.”

Kakashi stood abruptly, placing his hands flat against the Hokage's desk. He leaned toward her, speaking firmly and concisely.

“Soriya did not pull that trigger. You can't believe that of her.” He searched the blond woman's impassive face for clues to her thoughts, not liking what he saw there.

Ignoring his admonishment, Tsunade replied, “When the RU arrived, Soriya was grievously wounded, her chakra almost completely drained. Fortunately, one of my former students, Enya Ryusuki, was traveling with the RU. He's a gifted medic-nin; he has the rare potential to be as good as I am, one day.” The Hokage's tone was smug.

“Despite the fact that Soriya attempted to resist his Greater Healing jutsu, Enya was able to bring her back from the edge of death.” She offered a brief smirk. “In her weakened state, she could not deny his power, even with her gift. Or perhaps, especially with her gift.” Tsunade considered that for a moment.

“In any case, he was able to heal her physical body, and supplement the drained chakra, but there was something wrong with her mind. Something he couldn't see. Once her chakra began to return, she started raving and thrashing uncontrollably. She literally gave several of the RU major headaches, though only those who had direct physical contact with her. Had she been at full strength, I do not like to think what might have occurred.” The Hokage's expression was grim.

“Enya judged it prudent to keep her unconscious until the RU could get her back here. She was closeted with him and the psych-nin for the next two months, and gradually regained control, along with her sanity. Though she's apparently walled off the events surrounding Ryuji's assassination deep in her mind. She cannot account for Natsu's death, except to say that she knows she did not kill him. She also claims no memory of how the twenty rogue ninja died.” Tsunade sat back in her chair, frustration drawing small lines between her brows. “You see why Psych refused to clear her. And I concur with their assessment.”

“So you want me to discover what happened out there,” Kakashi's voice was grave. “Having experienced a small portion of Soriya's Kekkei Genkai for myself, I believe it is possible, even highly probable, that she killed those men. But not Natsu. That, I won't believe. She wouldn't go that far, not even for revenge. Especially not after what she was forced to do for Emiko,” he spoke adamantly. Pushing away from the desk, he paced the room like a caged panther.

“About the deaths of the former, I agree with you,” the Hokage spoke seriously, tracking his movements with shrewd amber eyes. “I pray your instincts are correct regarding the latter. Which brings me to the third and final task I would ask of you.” She drew a breath, letting it out slowly.

“Disregarding Natsu's death for the moment, I must consider that if Soriya did indeed kill Ryuji and his men en masse, she is a telepath with power on a level unheard of in our history. As such, she has the potential to be extremely dangerous, even to her allies. And worse, she is unstable. A damaged weapon, perhaps broken beyond repair. Due to the nature of her power, she represents a serious security risk.”

Kakashi's pacing abruptly ceased. Tsunade could see the tension in his back and shoulders as he stared out the window at the night sky. His voice was too calm as he spoke without turning to face her.

“Just what are you asking me to do, Tsunade?”

Her reply was careful and deliberate. “For now, nothing other than what you already do. Assess her strengths, weaknesses. Test this weapon, Kakashi. Heal her if you can. Bind her in her sheath. The Leaf Village does not want to lose her. But we cannot allow her to be used by others, either.”

“Soriya would never let that happen,” Kakashi snarled, truly angry as he whirled to face her. “She would die first!”

“That, too, is my concern,” Tsunade responded evenly. “She is strong. I admire her greatly. She does what is needed, as is the shinobi way. But she has been forced to commit actions that she deeply abhors. Though she is not one to choose suicide as a release, I believe she would welcome death should it seek her out. From one quarter or another,” Tsunade spoke quietly, willing him to understand her meaning. “I would have you prevent this.”

The elite jonin's stance relaxed and he grimaced. “You're asking me to save her from herself? I failed to do this once before, as the present situation attests. But you know this.” He sighed, absently running a hand through his shock of silver hair. “She has always been stubborn. What makes you think I can save her now?”

“You are both older and, I sincerely hope--for all our sakes--wiser. Already, you have passed beyond the boundaries of your old relationship, as this evening's little interlude proved.” Tsunade smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

“I want you to save her, Kakashi. And in doing so, save me from a decision I don't want to make.” Her voice was soft. “You have a better chance of success than anyone else, should you bring to bear all your resources. Though there may be one other who could possibly pull her back from the brink. Perhaps. Or perhaps not,” Tsunade mused, noting the slight darkening of the shinobi's expression. “But I judge you the better risk, by far.” She winked at him.

“And now, I would recommend you speak with two people particularly. The first is Enya Ryusuki, my former student.”

“And the other?” he asked.

Tsunade smiled, a genuine smile this time. “Have you not guessed to whom Soriya might go if she felt her control slipping? Truly, I thought you would have figured it out by now.”

Kakashi's mouth frowned behind his mask. “You're saying she went to Ibiki Morino?”

Clapping her hands, Tsunade stood, collecting the empty sake saucers.

“Excellent! You never disappoint, Kakashi. Yes. I checked the scrying crystal just before you came.” Her smile faded as she fixed him with a serious gaze.

“Perhaps the two of you can keep her from falling off the ledge on which she's standing.”

Soriya stared at the solid oak door, indecision uncharacteristically evident in the lines of her body. Raising a hand to knock, she hesitated. Then, gritting her teeth in annoyance at her cowardice, the kunoichi rapped knuckles sharply against the wooden surface. Silence answered.

Just as she was about to knock again, the door opened. A tall, powerfully built shinobi filled the entryway. His face, two diagonal scars crossing it like claw marks, evinced neither surprise nor irritation at the unexpected visit. Mutely, Soriya met the piercing black eyes. After a long moment, the head of ANBU's Torture and Interrogation Unit grunted, stepping back to grant the kunoichi entry to his private quarters.

She glided past him, looking around curiously, noting the few changes in the sparsely decorated space. She'd been here twice before. Once, three years ago, when he had outlined in detail the type of training required in order to carry out the mission. Then again, almost a year later, after she'd completed the rigorous training. He'd cooked dinner that night; a man of many hidden talents. Afterwards, he informed her she would be leaving the village in the morning.

Pausing on the threshold of the living room, she commented, “I like the flowers. Did you grow them yourself?” She nodded at a vase of white lilies. They rested on a low mahogany cabinet lining the far wall of the room. The ivory petals contrasted sharply against the deep wine color of the walls.

The color of my hair.

She started, as a new thought struck.

The color of blood.

Ibiki Morino had not taken his eyes off the slender redhead gracing his living room. He compared the woman before him with his prior memories of her, noting the subtle changes. He answered obliquely, “Flowers have very simple needs. Nutrients. Water. Sunlight. If one can discover and supply the precise ratio of their requirements, it is easy enough to cultivate them.”

Soriya digested that for a moment. Turning to face him, she replied soberly, “That is not so very different from our line of work. Find out what the target needs, so we can get him to do what we want.”

Her voice was bitter. It wounded him, although she could not know it. He had always been careful not to touch her, and he was not, by nature, an emotional man.

“Soriya. Why have you come?”

His voice was gentle. She had not expected that. Opening her mouth to speak, no sound emerged. She inhaled instead, a sharp sound that danced on the edge of a sob. Sinking down onto the cream-colored sofa, face hidden in her hands, her shoulders shook slightly. She made no further sound.

The shinobi's scarred face softened as he watched her struggle to contain turbulent emotions. Moving to the comfortably plush chair across from her, he sat, waiting patiently. It was a skill at which he excelled, and it had served him well over the years.

Eventually, the kunoichi's breathing steadied. She raised her face to him. His heart ached at the haunted look in the moist gray eyes.

“Ibiki-sensei. I need your help.” She stopped, unsure how to frame her request. “I feel--” she hesitated again, groping for words.

“Out of control?” he suggested mildly.

She didn't even narrow her eyes at that, as it was true. Head hanging, she allowed hair to cascade over her shoulders, shielding her face from his view. She spoke from inside the heavy, red curtain.

“I still have so much rage inside. I feel it leaking...pouring...out of me. I can't contain it,” she admitted baldly, looking up to meet his eyes. “It frightens me. I don't know what I might do, or to whom...” her voice trailed off miserably.

Ibiki appraised her, dark eyes giving no sign of the direction his thoughts traveled. When he finally spoke, it surprised her.

“What is it you want, Soriya?” his voice was bland, incurious. Almost as though he had no real interest in the answer, but asked merely for the sake of politeness.

“Want?” she echoed, confused.

“What do you want out of life? Revenge? Truth? Safety? Love?” His voice lingered over the last word.

She stared at him, trying to gauge the intent behind the question. She failed utterly. It irritated her. At one time or another, she had wanted all of those things. Perhaps still did. Ibiki knew her, knew this.

Inwardly, she cursed the limitations of her power and his habitually grim expression. She had never been able to get inside his head, figuratively or literally. He would not allow her to touch him, and very little leaked past his strong mental defenses otherwise. Though it usually irked her, there were times she found it strangely comforting. She decided to answer truthfully.

“Peace,” she said, voice weary. “I want peace.”

Ibiki leaned back in his chair, black eyes narrowing.

“Peace.” He snorted. “Peace is for the dead. Choose something else. Choose power. Choose duty. Choose anything else. There is no peace for the living.”

“And is there peace for the dead?” she asked him, voice low and quiet.

Ah, now we come to it, he thought.

Selecting his words carefully, Ibiki replied, “One cannot know with certainty, of course. One can only hope. But I have found it is helpful to remember there is often a reason some people survive while others die. A purpose, if you will.”

“And what is that?”

“That, my dear student, is what you seek. Your purpose. The reason you survived, while Emiko and Natsu died.”

Ibiki studied her pale face. Though she sat still as stone, he felt her chakra swirl momentarily in agitation before she dampened it. Her weapon. The weapon he had made of her.

“You fear your power. It has increased. So master it.” He said the words calmly, as though it were as simple as taking a walk in the park.

“People have died because of my power,” she snarled. “People I love. My parents. The Itasukis.” In a quieter voice, “Emiko.

“How can I continue to use what has hurt so many?” she cried.

The scarred shinobi stood suddenly, and walked to the cabinet on which the vase of lilies rested. Opening one of the doors, he removed a small box. Walking around the sofa, he offered it to Soriya.

“You asked me to hold this for you once. I believe it is time to return it.”

Fingers trembling, Soriya took the box from his gloved hand. She held it on her lap, unblinking, as though gathering the will to open it. Finding the courage, she removed the lid, slowly lifting out the polished metal circlet inside. She turned it to see the Leaf Village emblem engraved on a silver plate on the band's surface. Running her thumb across it gently, she found the catch and pressed, causing the small, rectangular plate to spring open.

The first glimpse of the photo inside caused Soriya's heart to constrict painfully in her chest. Briefly, she closed stinging eyes. Swallowing past the sudden thickening in her throat, the kunoichi steeled herself. Opening slightly reddened eyes, she forced her gaze back to the photo.

It was a picture that had been taken outside at Yori and Izumi's home, several years ago. She remembered the scene clearly; she had taken the photo. Heart aching, she studied Natsu and Emiko's smiling faces. Natsu's grin was sly as he gave an unsuspecting Emiko rabbit ears behind her head. Izumi and Iori stood behind them, arms around each other, happy in each others' presence the way newlyweds often are. They had only been married a couple of months she recalled, gaze softening.

Then, as if saving it for last, she let her eyes drift to the masked figure standing off to the side. Kakashi's visible eye was crinkled up, hinting at a smile. His hands were tucked casually in his pockets. She'd made him put his naughty book away for the picture. Delicately, she traced a finger over his image, unaware that Ibiki observed and cataloged her every reaction to each person in the photograph.

Deliberately, he moved to sit on the sofa, startling her. Feeling embarrassed for some reason, she flushed, offering Ibiki a lopsided grin.

“Kakashi had this made for me when I made jonin. He must have gotten a copy of the photo from Yori.” She showed Ibiki the picture briefly, then snapped the plate closed. “It's a choker, see?”

Opening the catch on the back, she manipulated the chakra in the dark metal to bend the one-inch band. Placing it around her throat, she engaged the clasp with a snap, activating the protection in the band. The metal felt cool against her skin, although she knew her body temperature would warm it quickly.

“It was supposed to protect me from being strangled. By him, the card said. His little joke.” She laughed shortly. “I could've used this when Yukio Ryuji was choking the life out of me.” She winced in vaguely remembered pain, rubbing at her throat. She drew a deep breath, just because she could.

“Soriya,” Ibiki spoke gently. “You ask why you should use your power when it could not keep Natsu, Emiko, or your other loved ones safe. But I ask you, would they have been safer if you had refused to use it?” When she didn't answer, he pressed, “Your parents would still be gone. The Itasukis would still be murdered. Even Emiko and Natsu would still be dead, only you would be as well.” Impossibly, his voice softened still further. “I spoke with the Hokage and Enya after your return. You almost were. Enya told me you tried to resist the healing.”

“I wanted to,” she acknowledged quietly. “But he was touching me, and I felt his struggle to save me. I couldn't not feel it.” Her eyes narrowed in remembered anger. “He knew that. Knew my gift. He deliberately used it against me.” The anger faded as she closed sorrow-filled eyes.

“He wanted to save me, truly. It hurt him deeply to think he might fail. It always hurts him. And I was so tired. Tired of causing pain. Too tired to shut him out. I couldn't do that to him, not then.” She sighed. “So I gave in. I surrendered to the Greater Healing. I didn't really have the strength to fight him off anyway,” she confessed.

“But you hated yourself for allowing it.”

She said nothing for a long moment. Then softly, “Yes.”

Ibiki reached out a gloved hand, touching her shoulder.

“Soriya. It is not wrong to want to live, though others have died. There are many who would have grieved for you had you successfully resisted Enya. Would you pass that burden onto them? You are stronger than that,” he stated emphatically. “I know, perhaps better than anyone else, just how strong you are. I have watched you struggle with your power, eventually mastering it. You can do so again, if need be.”

She stared at him, luminous eyes wide. She thought she saw pride and affection in his face. Directed at her. Suddenly, her heart felt a little lighter. She tried a weak smile.

“Does this mean you'll help me?”

He frowned at her. In a mock-severe tone, he chided, “I believe I've helped you quite enough for one day.” He relented, adding, “Besides, you've already mastered all the mental techniques I could teach you. You merely require practice. Might I recommend a certain cocky, one-eyed shinobi as your guinea pig?”

She gave his arm a slight shove. It was like pushing a mountain.

“Ha ha. How unkind of you, siccing me on Kakashi without even warning the poor guy.”

“The Copy Ninja is not my concern,” Ibiki corrected. “Besides, he can handle himself. And I think he probably risks less injury from your power than most, because he matters to you.”

She snapped, “Tell that to Emiko.”

“If you want to wallow in guilt and self-pity, do it on your own time,” he grumped back. “Have you allowed Kakashi to touch you?”

She flushed, admitting, “Yes. Twice. The first time, I just called up an old memory of his. Of the last time we argued.”

“And the second time?” Ibiki pressed.

“He offered,” she countered defensively. “He wanted to know about Emiko's death, so I showed him. That's all.”

“You let him into your mind? You must have a fair amount of confidence in your control to risk such a thing. Kakashi wields the Sharingan. He may see more than you intend if you allow him unrestricted access to your thoughts,” Ibiki warned.

“It wasn't 'unrestricted'! And Kakashi only wants to help. He would never deliberately hurt me,” she responded hotly.

“Perhaps,” conceded the scarred shinobi, secretly pleased with her vehemence. “But remember, Kakashi is also shinobi. Because of his level of power and exceptional skill, he is granted considerable leeway in exercising his will. But he is not without a master.”

“The Hokage,” she stated flatly.

“Even so.”

“And what of you?” she asked, curious as to what he would admit.

“Me?” He pretended to ponder her meaning for a moment, then sighed. “I, too, am not without a master. But Soriya, be aware that in this particular case, our master--and yours, I might add--wishes for an outcome that is favorable to you. We will aid you, inasmuch as we are able, Kakashi and I,” promised Ibiki. He knew he would likely be seeing the elite jonin very soon. “However, you must allow it. And we cannot rid you of your power, or decide how to wield it for you. Nor would we, if we could. It is your gift, and your burden. Bear it,” he advised, not unkindly. “You have the strength.”

Standing, he offered her a gloved hand. She took it, rising gracefully to her feet. She returned his grip tightly for a moment, gray eyes serious. Then, nodding once, she silently slipped out of his grasp, heading toward the door. Opening it, she stepped out onto the porch, turning to look back at him. A smile lit her face suddenly, then she whirled, long hair flying, as she disappeared into the night.

Ibiki walked to the door and shut it slowly, hearing the click as the latch caught. He rested a hand against the wood for a moment, feeling all of his forty-seven years. Then, one corner of his mouth quirked up in an almost-smile, and he turned back to the living room.

Good luck, Kakashi. You're going to need it.