In Memoriam Tales

by TwinEnigma

Warnings: Sasukarin, OCs, bell test

IX: Family

Sasuke is nineteen and feels like he’s twice that old. He’s been a traitor three times – first to his village and friends, then to his brother’s memory, and finally to Akatsuki. He’s wandered everywhere, it seems, and he knows countless jutsu. His body is littered with so many scars he can’t remember where he got them all. He wears the rank of jounin officially, though everyone in the village and all the Bingo books rank him among the three most powerful ninja alive, right alongside his former teammates.

He’s been working odd jobs around the village for a while now, mostly for the interrogation squads, though he is officially listed as a jounin sensei and has been so for almost a year. He has yet to pass a team but he’s okay with that. It keeps him close to home, which is exactly where he wants to be right now.

A messenger chunnin runs up to him and passes him a scroll before darting off down the street.

Sasuke unfurls the scroll and skims it quickly. It’s a summons from the Hokage addressed to all jounin sensei on standby, asking them to report for their new genin assignments. Was it really that time of year already? It seemed like only yesterday he’d flunked his first batch of snot-nosed brats and sent them crying back to the Academy.

He is not alone when he steps into the Hokage’s office. Shino and Moegi are there, as are half a dozen other jounin, but he only knows those two well, so he finds himself standing with them while he waits. One by one, the others filter out, until he is left alone with the sixth Hokage, his old teammate.

“Try not to traumatize this batch too badly, Sasuke,” Naruto says, sighing as he picks up one last file folder, and holds it out.

Sasuke grunts, accepting the folder - he’ll skim through it later.

“Sasuke,” Naruto starts, his face drawn in concern. “I know I said to give it a try, but if being a jounin sensei isn’t working for you, I can transfer you to another division.”

It’s times like these Sasuke wants to smash that blond head face-first into the desk for sheer stupid. He is tempted, sorely tempted. Instead, he closes his eyes and smirks, turning away. “Maybe this group will surprise me.”

He walks home, letting his mind wander.

It’s not that he hates the idea of being a sensei. Not really, anyway. It’s more that he doesn’t have the slightest clue what he should do with them. He’s used to running with high-level jounin and elite ANBU, not lagging behind with genin who barely know the basics. And to think, seven years ago, he’d been just as wet behind the ears as these kids.

It’s only been seven years and he’s changed so much - they’d all changed so much that it was sometimes hard to recognize them as the same people.

Sasuke slips into his apartment, leaving his jounin vest and sandals at the door. Putting aside the folder, he pads quietly down the hall in his bare feet and peers into the bedroom. His wife is asleep, their year-old son napping on her chest. Neither wakes when he lies down next to them on the futon, though Karin does shift a little as she unconsciously senses the proximity of his chakra and smiles in her sleep. Had it been anyone else, she would have been awake already, the blade up her sleeve at the ready and their son safely hidden.

Sasuke is nineteen and a father.

He watches his son sleep, completely fascinated. His son, Rinji, is the most perfect thing he’s ever seen in this world and one of the few things worth dying for.

Sasuke and Karin are both imperfect. She’s clingy and volatile and hides her true self behind her glasses like they’re a shield. He’s violent, abrasive, and doesn’t trust easy. They’ve both seen and done horrible things in their lives and loss is no stranger to either of them. Somehow, they fit together, though, in a way that bewilders the other villagers, but they don’t know her like he does and they don’t know him at all.

Their son, on the other hand, is a clean slate. Everything about him is undecided and full of unknown potential. There’s no telling what he’ll grow up to be and it’ll be years before they’ll know for sure if he’s inherited either of their special talents.

He sighs heavily as he examines his son’s tiny face and thick, dark hair. What are they doing, bringing a kid into this world? They’re so young and stupid and screwed up. They’re going to mess up, for sure – they’re ninja, trained killers, what the hell do they know about raising kids?

Rinji wakes then and starts to fuss, putting a stop to that train of thought.

Karin starts to stir, and Sasuke tells her to go back to sleep as he picks up the baby. A quick sniff and cursory look prove it’s not the diaper, so he makes his way back to the kitchen. It takes a few minutes for him to warm up some milk, especially since he’s juggling the baby in one arm, though soon enough it’s ready and he’s watching his son greedily latch onto the sippy cup with a zest only Suigetsu could have rivaled.

Sasuke smiles sadly and fills a small bowl with some dry cereal. Suigetsu and Juugo had both opted to travel after things got settled and it had been a while since he’d heard from either of them. They were friends – maybe not the best of friends, but good ones nonetheless – and he worries about them. He supposes that maybe he’s never really stopped being the leader of their team and, even though they’ve gone their separate ways, he still feels responsible for them.

They’re not his team anymore, he notes, eyeing the folder on the table.

Sighing, Sasuke sits down, sets Rinji in his lap and, putting the cereal bowl down within easy reach of his son, he picks up the folder and begins to familiarize himself with his new students. He’ll be meeting them soon and he’d rather not be flying completely blind.

In many ways, he’s hesitant to get to know them at all. There’s no point in trying if they’re going to just flunk the ‘survival’ test. Hell, the last group Naruto foisted on him flunked so spectacularly that he recommended they repeat two years of Academy instead of the usual one.

When Karin enters the kitchen, he’s on the last page and Rinji is occupied with flinging cereal at him and happily babbling away in strings of nonsense sounds. She lingers in the doorway for a moment, watching them with the secret little smile she reserves for them alone, and then joins them, kneeling down behind Sasuke and hugging him. “What’s that?” she asks, sliding down into a sitting position.

Rinji squeals happily and crawls out of Sasuke’s lap towards his mother, spilling cereal everywhere.

“New genin squad,” Sasuke explains, brushing the cereal out of his lap. Honestly, Rinji seems to spill or throw as much cereal as he manages to eat.

“It’s that time of year already?” she giggles, leaning in to pick up the baby. “We could use some babysitters. When are you meeting them?”

Sasuke snorts and leans in, a slow smile creeping across his lips. “I was supposed to meet them an hour ago.”

“You ass,” Karin scolds him and gives him a playful shove on the shoulder, but she’s trying so hard not to laugh that she’s making a hilarious face. “Get going!”

He chuckles, kissing her on the forehead. “Nah, I’d rather stay and have lunch.”

“You, Mister Uchiha, seem to be wearing lunch,” Karin counters, plucking a bit of cereal out of his hair. She pops it in her mouth and adds, “Five second rule.”

He pauses, studying the way her lips curve in a playful smile, and then kisses her, gently. She returns the kiss, a tender kiss that reflects the contented expression on her face. It is more affection than people would think either of them capable of, but, then again, they never see this side of them. Only here, in the privacy of their home, they feel safe enough to reveal their vulnerabilities like this. Their home is sanctuary, the only place no one expects anything of them, and, briefly, Sasuke entertains that this must be what heaven is like.

Rinji giggles and tosses more cereal at them in an effort to get their attention, completely ruining the moment.

“All right, all right, I’m going!” Sasuke chuckles, unable to help himself, and starts to get up. He leans down to kiss Karin and then kisses his son on the head. “Behave for your mother, brat.”

Rinji just smiles back at him, sucking on his tiny fist. He’s too little to really understand what he’s being told, but he soaks up the attention like a sponge and, idly, Sasuke wonders if this is how he must have looked to his father, once upon a time.

Come to think of it, what on earth would his parents have thought of him and his little family if they could see him now? Would they be happy for him or disappointed? He’ll never know for sure now, but he can’t help wondering and it brings back a dull, familiar ache in his heart.

“Sasuke, stop dawdling,” Karin chides, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You can’t keep those poor kids waiting forever.”

Sasuke smiles and winks at her as he turns to get his shoes and vest. He’s told her a few times about his own past, about his times on Team Seven, and how Kakashi-sensei would keep them waiting for hours on end just to watch them squirm, but he knows she thinks he’s just exaggerating – what ninja didn’t at his age, especially about a teacher like that? In the end, though, she’s right. He really can’t keep them waiting forever. Like it or not, he’s stuck with them until they fail his ‘survival’ test.

The Academy isn’t very far at all, merely a few minutes jog over the rooftops, and he easily finds the room he’s looking for. He can hear the three grumpy students inside, complaining about the wait and regurgitating rumors they’d heard about the infamous Sasuke Uchiha, none of which are accurate or have given them any idea of what he’s really capable of. One of them is shuffling around the door now, probably trying to prank him for letting them wait so long.

How nostalgic.

Sasuke briefly entertains the idea of jumping in through the window and setting off a giant prize cracker with his name on it, in a similar fashion to what he remembers Anko doing during his first chuunin exams. Instead, he feels himself slipping into the deceptively aloof and bored stance he remembers Kakashi-sensei favoring. Maybe later, if they pass, he’ll take a page out of Anko’s book and rattle them a bit, just to keep them on their toes.

He opens the door from the side, letting the erasers bounce harmlessly to the floor as he gets his first look at them and instructs them to meet on the roof. Unsurprisingly, he is there several minutes before they are, since they do not yet know how to scale the sides of buildings with chakra alone, something which he can now do without even thinking about it. He doesn’t really know where to begin with them, so when they arrive, he suggests they introduce themselves.

The boy who speaks up first, Saigan Kimagazaki, immediately reminds him of Naruto. The boy is loud and determined to prove himself to anyone and everyone in his way.

The girl, Tamaki, reminds him of Sakura a little. She looks plain, like an ordinary girl, too soft and too weak. Though there’s pride in the way she holds her head up and stares him in the face when she answers that Sakura never had at that age.

The last boy, Saitoh Shirogane, is familiar, like a distorted reflection of the brat he used to be. There’s arrogance there that needs to be hammered out. Worse, his given name is very similar to the other boy’s, ensuring potential screw-ups.

Sasuke idly wonders if this is what Kakashi-sensei felt like when he first met the members of his Team Seven.

“Sasuke-sensei, when do we start our duties?” the girl, Tamaki, asks confidently.

He’s unable to help himself as he smirks. “We begin first thing tomorrow.”

“Oh, oh! What are we doing, sensei?” Saigan demands, clearly excited – really, was Naruto as hyper as this at that age?

“We’ll be doing a survival training exercise tomorrow, just the four of us,” Sasuke replies steadily and ignores the three children’s protests and whining about how they’d already had enough training. “The three of you will be fighting me as part of the last stage of your graduation exam.”

“Wait, what? We already passed!” Saigan shouts, leaping to his feet.

“No,” Sasuke says sternly, “You merely passed the first stage, meaning that you have the potential to become genin. The second stage is where we determine if you really have what it takes to be part of a genin squad. Sixty-six percent of your classmates will fail this test and be sent back to the Academy.”

The three genin stare openly at him in undisguised shock, completely silent.

“Tomorrow, the three of you get to show me your skills on the training ground,” Sasuke continues easily, standing and handing out the required paperwork. “Bring all the shinobi tools you have, though I doubt they’ll help you much.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Sasuke notices the girl twitch in barely restrained anger, but pretends he didn’t see it and instead moves to leave. “One last thing: don’t eat breakfast or you’ll puke.”

He disappears in a very visible puff of smoke, relocating to the shadows of one of the small trees in the roof garden, and waits, observing them quietly.

The girl screams in rage, startling her teammates, before turning and grabbing them, claiming that they’ll teach him to underestimate them. She says she has a plan and, as far as genin plans generally go, it’s pretty decent – it’s not great and it certainly won’t take down one of the village’s strongest jounin, but it’s decent enough for a genin. The boys look like they’re slow to cotton to it, but soon enough the stoic Saitoh is putting in suggestions and the hyper Saigan is eagerly nodding in agreement. The three of them leave together, deep in discussion over their little scheme, and, for a moment, he’s tempted to stop them.

Technically, the three of them have just unwittingly made sure he no longer needs to administer the test. They’re acting as a team, even if it is just to spite him. Still, it’s tradition and Sasuke doesn’t feel like spoiling the surprise for them. Not yet, anyway. He’ll leave that until after he’s had a chance to terrorize them a little.

Sasuke wanders slowly back home, taking a short detour through the graveyard to say hi to a few old friends. He spends the rest of the day with his wife and son, enjoying his last day of relative peace and quiet before he officially starts his duties as a jounin sensei. He has a distinct feeling his life is about to take another hectic turn.

That night, he dreams of his brother and Kakashi-sensei, sitting at a campfire, and when he wakes, he can only remember the lingering feeling of Itachi’s fingers pressing against his forehead and Kakashi’s assurance that everything will be all right. It’s strangely comforting and the feeling stays with him, like a steady hand on his shoulder.

Sasuke spends a little time after breakfast playing with his son, while Karin takes the time to relax and watch them. When little Rinji is finally exhausted and put down for his morning nap, Sasuke decides it’s finally time to get the day underway. Despite Karin’s scolding about his tardiness, he still manages to make her smile and steal a few kisses before he leaves.

He is greeted by the angry shouts of his cute little genin, who don’t look happy about having been made to wait so long. Their packs and gear kits, however, look lighter than they should be and Sasuke fights the urge to grin as he pulls out the alarm clock and the bells. It seems his cute little genin have been busy preparing a trap for him. Oh, this he has to see.

Sasuke gives them the rules of the exercise, almost exactly as he remembers Kakashi-sensei giving them, and sets the clock while the children scatter for cover. He does not pursue them - he wants to see what they’ve cooked up first.

He pulls out a copy of Icha Icha Paradise, and opens it up to the page he’d last left off on, smirking as he notes the muffled gasp from the bushes nearby. So, his cute genin had the sense to try and jump him from his blind spot. Their stealth work, however, clearly is in need of dire attention.

Sasuke keeps his back to them as he sits down on a fallen log, smiling to himself as he listens to them follow. There’s a rustle, an exhalation of breath as feet shift, and then he hears Saigan’s shout, rapidly followed by an electric crackle.

A simple replacement leaves the loudmouthed Saigan attempting to correct his trajectory in midair, but the boy is unable to compensate for the heavy iron club he wields, and is sent sprawling into the path of his teammate’s lightning jutsu.

Sasuke considers it fortunate that the technique is only a mild one, though he has to admit the boy has a rather colorful vocabulary for a kid and can’t help cracking a smile.

The next attack is a clear attempt to drive him into the woods – no doubt, their trap is nearby – and he allows it for now. He easily blocks the Academy taijutsu combo Saitoh tries on him and counters with one of his own moves, sending the arrogant boy careening through the bushes as if he were little more than a pesky fly and leaving him face-to-face with Tamaki, the leader of their little outfit. She attacks, punctuating each strike with senbon, and he notes with some amusement that she was able to immediately compensate for the defeat of her teammate, varying the strikes just enough to be annoying. A simple textbook genjutsu sends her into hysterics.

Saitoh and Saigan both crash out of the bushes and charge, the former slamming through handseals for another lightning jutsu and the latter winding up for another go with that ogre club of his.

“What did you do to her?” Saigan shouts, swinging wildly with the club. Really, he needs to work on his technique. Just swinging it around and hoping to connect isn’t good enough.

“Shinobi use three arts in combat,” Sasuke replies. He switches himself with a transformed log and drops behind them, watching as the replacement gets hit with the other boy’s lightning jutsu and propelled into the trap. Before they even have a chance to realize he’s made the switch, he pins Saigan and uses a low-level wind jutsu to blast Saitoh into a tree, stunning him.

“These arts are genjutsu,” he continues, indicating Tamaki’s twitching form, “Taijutsu and ninjutsu, which I see one of you is already familiar with.”

In the distance, Sasuke can hear the buzzer sound and sighs.

Ten minutes later, the three genin are sitting back in the clearing, tied to the logs near the monument.

“Do you know why you failed?” he asks.

Saitoh is the first to respond. “You’re a jounin. You’re much more skilled than we anticipated.”

Tamaki, surprisingly, butts in. “It doesn’t matter! We won’t give up! Next time, our plan will be better and we’ll show you!”

“Yeah, yeah!” Saigan the loudmouth pipes up, easily matching her anger with sheer enthusiasm.

Sasuke can’t help smiling. They really do have no idea what they’re facing with him, but they sure have determination in spades. Ah, to be young and stupid! “Is that so?”

“Of course,” Saitoh says, a smirk crooking his lips as his teammates look at him expectantly. “We’re a team. We underestimated you this time, but we won’t do it again.”

“And what about the bells?” Sasuke asks.

“Screw the bells!” Tamaki shouts, her eyes blazing. “We don’t need stupid bells to tell us if our team is worthy! We’ll pass, all of us, because we’re a team now and there’s no going back! We all move forward together or not at all!”

There is a long silence as they stare defiantly up at him.

“You...” Sasuke breathes, tossing on a little killing intent to watch them squirm. The desired effect achieved, he lets it go and smiles beatifically, giving them a simple thumbs up. “PASS!”

The three genin stare at him, slack-jawed, their brains still catching up.

Oh wow, Sasuke thinks. If those were the types of faces he, Naruto and Sakura were making seven years ago, it was a wonder Kakashi-sensei was able to keep a straight face.

“What the hell?” Saigan shouts, squirming against the ropes.

Sasuke smiles – yeah, he remembers Naruto saying something similar back then – and, at last, explains, “The last team I tested just did exactly what I told them to do the entire time. They each came after me for the bells on their own and refused to cooperate with each other. The three of you, from the very start, worked together to try and take me down, ignoring the bells. You had a plan – it didn’t work, but you still had it – and used it to try and even the odds between us.”

Pausing, he moves closer to the monument and continues, “I’ll admit I was pleasantly surprised you took the initiative to work together last night and come up with something.”

“You saw that?” Tamaki gasps in horror. “No wonder it didn’t work!”

“Don’t flatter yourselves,” Sasuke says blandly. “You’re genin, fresh out of the Academy. I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have.”

The stoic Saitoh murmurs something barely audible about knowing they should have done some research into their sensei’s background.

“Point is, the three of you achieved the true objective of the test without any encouragement or realizing what that objective was,” Sasuke continues. “This test is designed to divide teams against a superior opponent with a false objective. The three of you didn’t let the objective break your plan or split you up.”

It satisfies him when he sees their eyes rivet on the bells in dawning comprehension and he adds, “You see, teamwork is the most important aspect of being a ninja, even more than individual strength, and forms the backbone of Konoha’s defense. Without being told, you realized this, even if your underlying motives were... rather childish.”

Tamaki, realizing the comment was directed at her, blushes brightly. He doubts she’s sorry, though. She’s too proud for that.

“Tell me,” Sasuke says, his hand lingering on the monument, “What do you know about this monument?”

Saigan is the one who answers this time, his face unusually somber: “It’s a monument to the dead.”

That’s right. These three were survivors of the Battle for Konoha. Death and loss were not strangers to them. He doesn’t doubt he’ll find the names of their parents inscribed on the stone if he looks closely.

“All these people,” Sasuke sighs, his fingertips resting on the kanji of a familiar name. “Do you know what they died for? Why they gave up their lives to protect this place?”

The genin only stare at him quietly, their faces grim.

Sasuke approaches them, cuts them free, and says, “Follow me.”

They follow him back into Konoha proper, into the residential district, and down winding streets to his apartment. Karin greets him at the door and invites them in, watching curiously as the three genin pull off their sandals and stand awkwardly in their kitchen. Sasuke tells them to wait there before disappearing down the hall to pick up his son and returns to the kitchen, careful not to wake him.

“This,” he says, showing Rinji to them, “This is what they died to protect: the future generation of Konoha. Do you understand now?”

Tamaki is immediately drawn to the baby, but her hand pauses and she draws back, uncertainly.

Saitoh is silent, his eyes unfathomable as he examines the baby.

“I understand,” Saigan says and, with uncharacteristic gentleness, reaches out to take the baby from Sasuke’s arms. The genin smiles sadly: “I have a little brother that’s about the same age. He’s all I got left.”

The boy’s face then split into a wide impish grin, not unlike Naruto’s. “Don’t worry, Sasuke-sensei! We’ll get stronger and protect our precious people for sure!”

The other two roll their eyes at the loudmouth and Rinji burbles, squirming a little, but remaining sound asleep.

“Well, then,” Sasuke says, straightening up. “Team Four is officially active for duty. Tomorrow, we’ll begin for real.”

A part of him can’t wait to rub the fact they passed (and in record time, no less) in Naruto’s face. But, for now, they were going to sit and eat lunch as a team. Tomorrow would come soon enough.

“Welcome to the family,” Karin says, smiling.

AN: Four is an important number. So is nine. The meaning, if it doesn't escape you, is your biggest tipoff.