What?!
"What?! How did that happen?.. No!" I closed my eyes and swallowed the lump in my throat. "Don't tell me yet—I'll deal with the mission first."
There's a year-and-a-half-old child sealed inside a wooden tub, and I'd better get him out of there as soon as possible. I'll hand him over to Danzo, then go to Hiruzen—he'll tell me the details of the official version of Reiko's death anyway.
"Yes, it's better if your sensei tells you everything," the chunin nodded, giving me a strange look. Is he… sympathizing with me? Huh. And I don't even know his name.
The Root headquarters' underground levels greeted me with a pleasant chill and a heavy, oppressive feeling. Maybe it's all unscientific mysticism, but it's hard not to sense the aura of a place where hundreds—if not thousands—have suffered. And here I am, carrying a child into these torture chambers. Wonderful.
Here's the antechamber to Shimura's office. Even the head of Root needs a place like this—his secretary has to sit somewhere, after all. Only instead of a pretty girl with a welcoming smile, there was an emotionless shinobi wearing a sparrow mask. He frisked visitors and, from the looks of it, even rummaged through their minds. He didn't try to pry into mine, though. All Yamanaka remember that's a bad idea. Heh-heh. How am I still being kept in Root, I wonder?.. And how soon they'll decide to eliminate me.
"I'm here to see Danzo-sama. Mission complete. The target is with me," I reported to the sparrow.
The shinobi gave me a long, scrutinizing look and, without a word, went into his superior's office. So he really is here.
A few seconds later, the door opened, inviting me inside. Alright, here we go.
"Danzo-sama, the mission is complete." I bowed deeper—bending before your superiors, no matter how despicable they are, never hurts.
"Show me," Shimura's dry voice hadn't changed in nearly a month.
I had already unsealed the Uzumaki beforehand—I didn't want to reveal my sealing technique. So I simply took the sleeping infant, wrapped in swaddling cloth, out of my bag and carefully placed him on Danzo's desk. The child was alive and healthy, as if those couple of weeks sealed away had never happened.
"Why did you bite him?" Damn, those sharp eyes.
"I injected med-chakra and a sedative."
Silence.
"Sparrow, take him to the group. Have them conduct a genetic analysis," Danzo finally ordered. "Orochimaru, dismissed. Three days."
"Yes, Danzo-sama."
Finally, I can get out of here! The way they treat you—like dirt. Absolutely outrageous! I'd almost forgotten what that felt like. Damn it, how much longer do I have to put up with him?! Why am I so weak, for crying out loud?!
Alright. Time to go see the second bastard.
"Hokage-sama, the mission is complete."
"Oh?" Hiruzen looked genuinely surprised—his eyebrows shot right up to his forehead!
"Yes, Hokage-sama," I confirmed grimly.
"Let me see your report," Hiruzen said with a sigh, setting aside a stack of papers. Apparently, things weren't going well for him today—the pile of documents put off for better times was already half a meter high. "You've already written it, I assume?"
"As usual—on the way back," I nodded, handing him a thin folder.
In general, all shinobi tend to use scrolls, but it seems the Hokage's office isn't staffed by fools and long ago realized that paperwork is far easier to manage using sheets more like what I'm used to—roughly A4 in size. So, to spare the poor clerks from having to rewrite my scribbles from scrolls, I've long kept a small stack of paper on me. That must be why I enjoy a certain degree of respect from the administrative staff. Sometimes they even nod to me when we pass.
"Hokage-sama, please tell me the details of my mother's death," I asked once the folder was on Hiruzen's desk.
"Hm-m," Sarutobi murmured darkly, reaching for his pipe. "So you already know."
"Yes."
The Third began slowly and thoughtfully packing his pipe with tobacco, his gaze drifting somewhere far away. A seasoned smoker—not a single shred missed, even though his mind was clearly elsewhere.
"She was sent, along with a group of jonin, to the Hidden Grass Village to assist in treating severely wounded shinobi after clashes with Iwagakure," Hiruzen finally began. "You understand—Grass has few strong jonin, and during wars we've always supported them with our own forces. Your mother fell into a trap left by saboteurs from the Stone.. And… the only thing that remained intact was her hair."
For about five seconds, I just stood there, staring at the floor. Then, a little lost, I asked:
"Has she already been buried?"
"Yes."
"Then I… I'll be going, Sarutobi-sensei?"
"Go, Orochi," Hiruzen sighed once more and dismissed me.
So that's that. Looks like I'm officially an orphan now. I didn't leave the Hokage's residence right away—there was no need to hurry anymore.
Konoha's cemetery lay on the very edge of the village, and it would take me a while to get there. A walk through winter Konoha is hardly pleasant, but right now, to put it mildly, I had no mind for trifles like the biting wind and the drizzling rain.
