Chapter 1

Late afternoon sunlight streamed into the office of Hokage Tsunade, leader of the Hidden Leaf Village. A light breeze gusted through the open window, ruffling the papers scattered across the polished surface of her desk. A crimson-painted nail tapped the top sheet of the report.

“Soriya. You've successfully completed all of the mission objectives,” Tsunade paused, assessing the room's other occupant with shrewd amber eyes. Her pigtailed blond head dipped slightly. “However...I sense you are dissatisfied.”

Silence. Then, a smooth feminine voice responded coolly, “It is finished. That is all that matters. Emiko and Natsu are avenged.”

“And you?” the Hokage asked, scrutinizing the young woman sitting in front of her desk. Dressed in a formfitting black bodysuit, the redheaded kunoichi sat silently, long legs crossed at the knee. The hands resting in her lap were still. The pale, heart-shaped face was composed, gray eyes flat and empty.

Unnaturally so, Tsunade thought. It was apparent no reply was forthcoming.

“Soriya. The medic-nin have cleared you physically for duty, but due to your particular abilities, they are not entirely comfortable with your psychological state of mind.” Medically trained eyes raked over the redhead once more, but could detect no overt chakra leakage.

But then, her control has always been exemplary. She never would have survived, otherwise.

Frown lines appeared between the Hokage's blond brows. She told the kunoichi, not unkindly, “I've been advised to suspend you from further S- and A-class mission duty until such time as the psych-nin see fit to clear you. For now, I judge it best to follow their advice.”

Dark gray eyes met her gaze levelly, but the woman so addressed offered no comment. She might have been a statue carved from marble, so still did she sit. Even so, Tsunade perceived the slight tightening of the kunoichi's jaw.

“Do not think this reflects poorly on you in any way, Soriya. You have served the village consistently, with skill and valor; I am relieved that you return to us alive. And I grieve for the loss of your teammates. As does the village.” The Hokage bowed her head.

Abruptly driven to her feet by the sympathetic words, Soriya rose and walked to the open window. Leaning against the frame, she stared down at the trees surrounding the Hokage's Tower, offering the older woman her profile. When she spoke, her response was measured, the smooth voice neutral in tone.

“As you will it, Hokage. I wish only to do my duty.”

Drifting clouds momentarily blotted out the sun, leaving the kunoichi's face in shadow. Tsunade blinked at the imagery. An omen of things to come? She fervently hoped not. She was almost startled when Soriya spoke again.

“Have you another task for me, Hokage? One that does not involve seduction or assassination?”

Bitterness there. Though she controls it well. Almost too well, under the circumstances.

Tsunade pondered the woman's tall, slender form as it rested gracefully against the window frame. Crimson hair, caught up in a high ponytail, swung to the small of the kunoichi's back. She is truly lovely, Tsunade mused. Intelligent. Deadly. As were all the kunoichi.

But, is she broken now?

The Hokage knew the two year infiltration and assassination mission had damaged the woman, body and soul. The medic-nin had been able to heal the body...but the soul? Only time would tell.

“Actually, I do have a task for you. Talents such as yours cannot be squandered.” Tsunade braced herself mentally. “I want you to teach a chunin course. Two courses, actually.”

Surprised, Soriya's shoulders stiffened as she turned to stare at the Hokage. “Teach?” She paused, gray eyes narrowing slightly. “What subjects, I wonder?” A hint of sarcasm marred her voice, the first emotion she'd shown since the start of the interview.

Sharply, the Hokage snapped, “Soriya, I think this will be good for you--and for our upper level chunin. Especially the kunoichi. We need teachers able to convey practical knowledge. The kind that completes missions and saves lives.”

Then, to take the sting out of her words, Tsunade added quietly, “You are shinobi, Soriya. An assassin. A spy. But that is not all that you are. What else is up to you to decide.”

Soriya arched a dark red brow at the blond woman, though her tense posture relaxed slightly.

“Huh. A teacher, you say?” Full lips curved slowly into a smile, though it did not reach the woman's slate gray eyes. “Perhaps that does have some appeal after all. I could do with a different set of challenges.” She thought some more. “Two classes? Boys and girls separated, I presume?”

The Hokage inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

Not so far gone that we've lost her after all.

“Of course,” was all she said.

“Hey, Naruto! Did you hear the news?” Kiba yelled, racing across the practice field, Akamaru bounding at his side. Excited to see familiar faces, the large white ninja hound barked an ear-splitting greeting.

Distracted by the noise, Naruto's blue eyes glanced toward the approaching duo for a split second. That moment was all Sasuke needed. Naruto flinched as the dull thud of the raven-haired Uchiha's sandaled foot connected heavily with his ribs.

“Aw, crap!” he hollered, flying off into the trees.

“Heh. Loser.” Sasuke smirked.

Their jonin sensei, Kakashi Hatake, commented idly from behind his book, “Watch out for that left foot.”

“Urgh,” the orange-clad blond groaned, struggling to disentangle himself from the bushes while muttering something about Kiba and lousy timing. Once free, he snapped, “What d'you want anyway, Kiba? Can't you see I was just getting ready to make Sasuke eat dirt?!”

“Ah, yeah, sorry about that,” Kiba shrugged apologetically, not sounding sorry at all. Naruto's fellow chunin wore his usual gray parka, the fur-lined hood thrown back as a concession to the warmth of early summer. Running a hand through messy brown hair, he rested the other on Akamaru's head.

“It's just, have you heard about the new class for upper level chunin? The sensei's a jonin recently returned to the village. Rumors say she was on undercover assignment for two years! She's going to teach 'Seduction and Assassination Techniques.' Sounds pretty interesting.”

“So?” Naruto shrugged. “I've already decided on my supplementary training and that's not on my list!”

Just then, Genma stepped out of the trees, ever-present senbon dangling from his lips. The handsome shinobi winked, lips stretching into a broad grin.

“Maybe so, but you haven't seen Soriya-sensei yet, have you?” he asked. “If I were you, I'd take the class just so I could stare at her perfect body.” He made undulating motions in an hourglass shape with both hands. “Especially in those outfits she wears, eh, Kakashi?” The brunette shot the Copy Ninja a knowing grin. A favorite with the village's female population, Genma had a certain lecherous reputation amongst the shinobi.

Rolling his right eye, the sole orb visible from behind the slanted headband and lower mask covering his mouth and nose, Kakashi snorted, “Genma, you'd stare at a sack of potatoes if it had lumps in the right places.”

Undeterred, Genma countered, “Don't tell me you don't remember her? Soriya Kanzin?” At the blank look in his friend's dark eye, Genma conceded, “Well, I guess she went through the Academy several years after we graduated, but...damn, man! Long red hair, and those eyes...” Genma gestured at his own brown orbs. “And did I mention her perfect body?” He snorted in disbelief. “How can you not remember her? I swear, Kakashi, you need to get your nose out of those dirty books and look at real women once in awhile.”

“Thanks for the advice,” the Copy Ninja replied dryly, still holding the novel disparaged by Genma in his hand. He closed it resignedly, straightening up from the tree he'd been reclined against. “Why don't you tell me something useful. Like, what's all the fuss over this class she's teaching? It's pretty standard fare for kunoichi, though a bit late to add it to the schedule. Most chunin have already chosen their electives by now.” He nodded toward Naruto, Sasuke, and Kiba, who were listening intently.

“True,” Genma replied, “but the Hokage herself is recommending,” he shaped quotation marks with his fingers, “all chunin kunoichi take the course. Sakura must be taking it. Ino and Hinata too. It's optional for the guys, but between you and me, I bet it'll fill up quick. Soriya's teaching 'Seduction and Assassination' for cryin' out loud! That means lots of talk about S-E-X, my favorite subject!” Genma rubbed his hands together excitedly. “I wonder if the exam is a practical? Makes me almost wish I were still chunin level.” He sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart.

Kakashi stood, returning the dubious reading material to the leather pouch at his waist. Tugging lightly at the hem of his olive green vest, he resettled the fabric over midnight blue shirt and pants. Running a hand through casually messy silver hair, he glanced at Naruto and Sasuke.

“Had enough practice for today? Maybe you can meet up with Sakura—see if she knows anything about this mysterious jonin. I have to admit, I'm kind of curious myself, since I can't seem to place her.” Which is odd, in itself.

“Okay, Boss. I was getting hungry anyway,” Naruto grinned. “Where is Sakura? At the hospital?”

“Yeah,” said Sasuke, tossing a farewell salute over his shoulder at Kakashi and Genma. The dark-eyed shinobi smirked at his best friend and rival. “Probably working with the Hokage on some new medical jutsu to put you back together again the next time I kick your ass. Loser.”

“Hey, you! Why I oughta--!” Naruto's outraged grumbling faded as he and the Uchiha moved off. Kiba and Akamaru followed resignedly, well used to such bickering between the two chunin.

“Well, now that they're gone,” said Kakashi, turning a speculative eye on his fellow jonin, “do you care to hypothesize why an obviously highly skilled deep-cover operative would compromise her anonymity by teaching a class full of hormone-raging chunin? Has the Hokage no plans to use her again?”

Suddenly serious, Genma answered, “I don't know, Kakashi, but I've heard some bad things about her mission. Both of her teammates were killed; apparently, she almost died as well. Rumor has it she spent two months in the hospital, most of which involved being locked up in a rubber room with psych-nin.” The brown-haired ninja shuddered, imagining such a fate. “I heard Psych won't clear her for high level mission duty. Maybe the Hokage asked her to do this, instead of giving her a desk job. Tsunade can be fairly persuasive when she feels like it, and downright scary when she doesn't.”

“True,” Kakashi readily agreed. Something nagged him. He felt like he was missing something important. “Maybe–Soriya?--was ready for a break anyway. Two years is a long time to be isolated undercover. The stress must have been immense. Her target mission must have been extremely sensitive to require such a long lead time to get her into position. For what, I wonder?”

“I dunno,” Genma replied, “but it was certainly dangerous. I told you her teammates, Emiko Hagane and Natsu Oseki, were killed. Did you know them? I think we got word when you were away from the village.”

The silver-haired shinobi's eye widened in shock. A strong feeling of dread came over him.

“Emiko and Natsu?” His mind raced. Soriya Kanzin. Kanzin. Could it be--?

“Genma,” Kakashi gripped the man's shoulders urgently, “do you mean Suki Kanzin?”

“Uh, well,” Genma fumbled with the abrupt non-sequitur. “I do vaguely remember hearing her being called that a long time ago, but—Hey! Wait! Where are you--” he trailed off as the Copy Ninja suddenly performed a translocation jutsu, disappearing in a puff of smoke.

“--going?”

The dark-haired ninja sighed. “I swear, I'll never understand that guy.”

Frowning thoughtfully, Genma rolled the steel senbon from one corner of his mouth to the other. After a moment, he shook his head. Shoving graceful hands into deep pants pockets, the confused shinobi continued his solitary walk.

Kakashi crouched on the tree limb, hand resting against the rough bark. The tree he had chosen was one of many affording an easy view of the comfortable-looking house. The brown-roofed dwelling was situated on the western end of a large, grassy clearing. A tidy workshop sat opposite the house. It was painted red with white trim, like a barn. Several large, rectangular windows had been painstakingly added just under the roof line to let in the light. This was where Yori created his wooden masterpieces. The young man's hand-crafted furniture was exquisite and in high demand. The Hokage herself was known to own a large bed decorated with fancifully carved animals on the head and foot boards, courtesy of Yori Itasuki. Well-respected and trusted in Leaf Village, he was a kind, honest man. He was also the one person from whom Kakashi figured he could willingly obtain some answers.

Inside the house, a woman's affectionately exasperated voice sounded.

“Iori, keep your fingers out of the rice bowl! Wait for your father to come in for dinner. He should be here any minute.”

As if conjured by the words, a man clad in a flannel shirt and overalls stepped out of the workshop, locking the door securely. He turned toward the house, sunlight highlighting auburn strands in tussled brown hair. Bypassing the main entrance, he walked around the dwelling to the side door that led directly to the kitchen. He appeared to be in his early twenties, with warm hazel eyes and a ready smile.

Deciding there was no time like the present, Kakashi leapt from the branch he had been occupying. He landed lightly before the startled man.

“Yo.”

Yori checked sharply, then relaxed, recognizing the silver-haired jonin. Running a hand through rumpled curls, he offered a weary smile.

“I figured we'd be seeing you sooner or later. Thought it might be sooner, actually. She's not here right now. She comes home late these days.” He paused, appraising the masked ninja. “It's good to see you, Kakashi. It's been a long time.” His face softened. “Too long. She missed you terribly when you stopped coming around. Though she tried hard not to show it. But we knew.”

Kakashi observed the man in front of him, noting the changes time had wrought. At just under six feet, the Copy Ninja didn't have to lower his gaze much to meet the younger man's eyes. Yori's build was slightly stockier than the elite jonin's slim, finely muscled frame. That, too, was different.

He's grown.

Soberly, the masked shinobi replied, “We talked about this, Yori. You know why I had to sever ties. She was becoming too attached to me, and it wasn't good for her. I felt she was making decisions as a chunin that were not in her best interests, and she thought I was trying to hold her back. She was beginning to resent my interference.” He sighed. “And perhaps, in all fairness, I was lacking in objectivity regarding her career as a shinobi. So I left. However, I kept tabs on her through various channels over the years. Except, these last three years, I've heard nothing of her. Not a whisper. Until recently.”

“She wanted it that way, Kakashi. Otherwise, I would have found a way to let you know--” he broke off suddenly. “We shouldn't discuss this out here. Come inside. You always liked Izumi's cooking, and you haven't met Iori yet.” Yori smiled as he spoke of his two and a half year old son. He climbed the steps to the kitchen door. The Copy Ninja followed, hands in pockets. Opening the door, Yori called, “Izumi, I'm home! And guess who's come with me for a visit?” he teased mischievously.

A heavily pregnant, dark-haired young woman appeared, drying her hands on a dish towel. She kissed her husband's cheek as he carefully eased past her rounded form, revealing the mystery guest. Her eyes lit up.

“Kakashi! How wonderful to see you again! It's been far too long,” she chided. “Please, come in! Have something to eat. We're just sitting down to dinner. I even have cherry pie for dessert; I remember you used to like that.” She smirked. “At least, you claimed you did, though we never saw you eat any of it. When will you stop wearing that mask all the time?”

“Uh, sorry?” Kakashi offered sheepishly, raising a hand to scratch the back of his head. “I don't suppose I could get a doggie bag though? With a big piece of pie, of course.”

Izumi snorted, then laughed. “For you, anything. You haven't changed at all, you know. I think I'm glad.”

“Thanks, Izumi. And congratulations on the birth of your son. And your approaching blessing as well.” He nodded toward her bulging belly.

“Ah, yes,” she smiled, pressing one hand against her lower back while the other gently patted her stomach. “The sooner this one arrives, the better. Doc says it could be any day now, and I am very ready to have my body back to myself. This one's a kicker. Worse than Iori ever was.” She laughed.

“But come in and meet Iori already.” She tugged on the shinobi's sleeve, pulling him into the kitchen. He yielded gracefully, entering just in time to see Yori ruffle his son's auburn curls while discreetly removing the child's fingers from the serving bowl of rice.

“Iori, say 'hi' to Kakashi. He's an old friend,” Izumi prompted.

The child, suddenly shy at the appearance of the strange, masked ninja, clutched his father's shirt and stared mutely. Kakashi's dark eye crinkled up in good humor.

“Hi, there, Iori. I'm an old friend of your parents'. It's nice to meet you. Last time I visited, you were just a twinkle in your father's eye.”

Yori chuckled softly, patting his son's shoulder. “Don't be shy, Iori. Kakashi here is an old friend of your Aunt's, too.” He winked at Kakashi. “Currently, Aunt Suki is Iori's favorite person. She's often the only one who can persuade him to comply with bath time or bedtime.”

Kakashi's gaze flicked up briefly at the mention of “Aunt Suki”. He refocused on the child as Iori found his courage to talk to the tall shinobi with funny silver hair. “Are you and Aunt Suki really friends?” he asked, doubt threading his voice.

“Well, yes, we were, years ago. But we haven't seen each other in a very long time. I can tell she must be a great Aunt though, because you obviously love her very much.”

This seemed to satisfy the child, and he went back to scrounging bits of fallen rice from the table, stuffing them into his mouth. Yori quickly fixed a plate of food, then beckoned to Kakashi.

“Come. We can talk in my office while Izumi feeds Iori. She'll join us as soon as he's off to bed. You don't mind, do you, dear?” he asked, glancing over at his wife. “I'm positive our guest is here for some answers and not merely a social call.”

Izumi smiled, though there was more concern than cheer in her eyes as she waved them away. “I'll be along when I finish up here. You go on.”

At that, Yori turned and led Kakashi down the familiar hallway to a small office at the back of the house. The room was cozy, equipped with a beautifully carved cherry-wood desk and chair, some filing cabinets, and two comfortably cushioned chairs bracketing a small table. The table was laden with a gorgeous shogi set. Kakashi stopped to admire the craftsmanship of the mahogany and oak pieces.

“Your work?” he asked, looking up at his host's face expectantly. “It's beautiful.”

“Oh, that. Yes. Soriya and I used to play with a cheap old set when we were younger. The first time she went away, I made this for her as a welcome home gift. It kept me too busy to worry. For a while, anyway.”

Yori stopped and shook himself, waving his guest to the corner chair. It afforded a view of the doorway and the small window along the back wall. Living with Soriya had accustomed him to the peculiarities of a shinobi's seating preferences. He settled himself in the chair across from the Copy Ninja, balancing the plate of food on his knee.

“You seem very happy here, Yori. I'm glad for you,” the shinobi offered sincerely. “You've come a long way from those dark days after your parents died.”

“After they were murdered, you mean.” Yori's eyes hardened, the grim expression out of place on his normally friendly face. He stopped, rubbing a hand over an auburn-stubbled jaw. Suddenly, he looked far older than his twenty-two years.

“I'm sorry, Kakashi, I don't mean to snap. It's not your fault rogue ninja killed my parents—we were just unlucky. If your squad hadn't arrived when they did, I'm sure Soriya and I would've been killed, too. We owe you our lives. For that alone, we'll always be grateful.”

He offered a weak smile, then glanced pensively at the shogi set.

“She was so angry after their deaths... Losing my parents was very difficult for Soriya. Even more so than for me, in some ways. I still had her to look after me, but she had no one, really. You know my parents adopted her when Sumao and Kurumi went missing, and she had no other family.” He sighed.

“Deep down, I believe Soriya blames herself for their deaths. For not being able to save them.” He shook his head. “Although I could never fathom why. She was only a ten-year-old girl. What could she have done?”

Kakashi stared into space, sorting through old memories. “We never did find out why those ninja targeted your family. They refused to surrender and were killed to the last man. A guard was placed on you both after that, but no further attempts were made. It was never resolved to my satisfaction, nor the third Hokage's, as I recall.”

Yori shrugged. “Whatever the reason behind the murders, they galvanized Soriya into action. She entered the Ninja Academy, set on becoming shinobi as quickly as possible. And she succeeded, despite having started the training so much later than the other students in her class. She was always brilliant,” he mused softly, then looked at the jonin. “You remember.”

Kakashi nodded. “I watched her graduate to genin status with pride. And I was pleased when she passed the chunin exams the following year. It was a superb performance, truly. But...” he shot a penetrating gaze at the younger man, “her relentless desire for vengeance began to concern me. It was obviously a large part of what drove her so fiercely. I feared for her,” he confessed.

“It was not the only thing driving her to succeed,” Yori commented, watching the shinobi carefully. “But you knew that, too, didn't you?”

Kakashi did not deny it. “It was a large undercurrent in many of our quarrels. Ultimately, I felt it best that I step back and let her make her own decisions, without my interference. Perhaps I erred in that,” he mused, shrugging. “I admit to being amazed when I heard she made jonin at nineteen, considering she started the Academy training so much later than her peers. I sent a gift, but never heard from her.” He sighed.

“I believed she was still angry with me over what she likely perceived as my desertion, so I stayed away. I stopped hearing of her about three years ago, but as I was absent from the village for long stretches myself, I didn't worry too much about it. We jonin are a fairly secretive bunch, after all. Comes with the job.”

Kakashi straightened from his slouched posture, leaning forward in his chair. He held the younger man's gaze intently.

“Tell me what happened, Yori. What do you know of her whereabouts these last few years? Please. I need to know.”

Setting aside his mostly untouched meal, Yori rested elbows on bent knees. He clasped his hands together.

“Look, Kakashi. I'll tell you what I know, only...Gods know, it isn't much.” He took a breath. “When Soriya made jonin, she was pleased, but relatively unsurprised, I think. More focused, maybe. As if some goal she had set for herself was finally within reach.

“Back then, she was often away for months at a time on assignments. We heard from her infrequently, except for the occasional letter or rare unannounced visit. She never stayed long, and I often wonder if she would've come at all if the Hokage hadn't insisted she take leave after an assignment. Something dark was clearly driving her, pushing her on. She always denied it when confronted. But I could sense the old anger in her at times, though generally, she hid it very well.

“I do know she got the gift you sent. Though, as I recall, it arrived rather late. Almost a year after she made jonin, as a matter of fact,” Yori's voice was mock-severe.

Kakashi shrugged and offered weakly, “Er, well... It took me a long time to figure out what to get her.”

The corner of Yori's mouth quirked. “Don't worry. I believe she was amused, rather than angry. She knew you pretty well, after all. And she did plan to pay you a visit and reconcile the friendship. But something happened before she got the chance, and it changed everything.” He paused, thinking back.

“The day after Soriya received your present, the Hokage visited. I don't know why they chose to come here rather than summoning Soriya to the Tower, but the meeting in my workshop lasted for over an hour. When they left, she was very serious, refusing to speak to Izumi and me about it. She told us she would be going away for specialized training and it was likely she'd be out of touch for many months, possibly a year. We asked when she would be leaving and were shocked to discover she planned to depart that very day. We argued with her fruitlessly for almost an hour, but she could not be swayed.” Yori grimaced in remembered frustration. “You know how stubborn she can be.” He paused, pondering his next words carefully.

“I tell you, Kakashi...though she seemed subdued on the surface, I felt the old rage in her. That, and a strong sense of purpose. Whatever information the Hokage imparted, it provided a target for Soriya's anger. The specialized training--she wanted it badly. And we knew that once she'd made up her mind to act, she could not be persuaded otherwise. So we gave in reluctantly, helping her pack up the few belongings she took with her. It was mostly weapons, as I recall,” he smiled briefly. “Though I saw her slip your gift in as well, when she thought I wasn't watching. Or perhaps, she meant for me to see. I've often wondered about that.”

Kakashi fidgeted slightly, but said nothing. Yori continued pensively, “Izumi and I hugged her tightly--unwilling to let her go, really. But after a moment, she pulled away from us. The sad smile on her face was the last thing I saw before she performed a jutsu and disappeared.

“That was the last we heard from her, outside of the odd note, for many months. Once in a great while, she'd drop in for a day or two—usually when she was recuperating from some minor injury or other--but she was always anxious to be training again.

“Then one day, about two years ago, during one of her routine absences, a message scroll arrived via an unusual courier. I was polishing a table in my workshop and looked up to see a strange-looking cat sitting on it, staring at me. I remember it had bright gold eyes. There was a scroll attached to a collar around its neck. Since the cat seemed to be waiting for me to do something, I approached and took it.

“The message was from Soriya, letting us know she was fine and had completed her training. She went on to say she'd be out of the immediate area, and it was unlikely she'd be able to communicate with us for quite some time. She asked us not to worry or attempt to look for her. And she said if anyone came around asking questions, we should feign ignorance of her activities and alert the Hokage immediately. She told us once more not to worry, and said the Hokage herself would be in touch if anything happened.”

Yori looked at Kakashi intently. “The 'to her' was clearly implied, if not written. I have to tell you, I wondered--not for the first time--if these constant absences had less to do with ninja business, than from a desire to protect Izumi and me from some unknown danger. But, since I couldn't exactly find Soriya to pry some answers out of her, I had no choice except to trust her. Although, I did demand a private meeting with the Hokage.” He grimaced, thinking back on that interview with evident dissatisfaction.

“She was kind, but decidedly unhelpful. She urged me to follow Soriya's instructions faithfully, and to report directly to her if anyone came sniffing around asking questions.” He frowned unhappily. “I hated the whole thing, but what could I do? Soriya was twenty-one, a grown woman, and the Hokage was clearly cognizant of the situation.”

“You could have come to me,” Kakashi said quietly. “I would have attempted to discover what was going on. I have some small influence with the Hokage, though she is not generally given to divulging secrets to those without a direct need to know. But I would have tried.”

“I'm sorry, Kakashi,” Yori sighed. “I thought of you almost immediately, but Soriya anticipated me. In her note, she warned specifically against getting you involved. Her words were something to the effect of 'don't you dare go to Kakashi with this. He's far too nosy, and if he starts digging for information it could compromise my safety.' I ask you, how could I ignore her when she put it like that?” He snorted grumpily. “She was always too clever for her own good.”

“Huh. Well, it sounds as though she had her reasons. Still, what's done is done. Tell me why she changed her name.”

“Ah, well...” the man squirmed uncomfortably. “That happened shortly after she made jonin. Something was different when she came back from her first long assignment. Her eyes were flat. Cold. She was closed off from us emotionally, and we couldn't breach her barriers well enough to understand the changes in her. However, after being home for a few days, she seemed to come back to herself. Though, I have to say, she never seemed exactly at ease--even with us, her only family.

“One night, out of the blue, she suddenly announced that Suki was a child's name, and she would not be using it anymore. She asked us to call her 'Soriya' instead. When we balked, not realizing she was in earnest, she calmly told us that if we loved her, we'd respect her wishes. Izumi and I were shocked and uncertain, of course. But since I could really see no harm in it, we complied.”

Yori ran a hand through auburn hair, musing, “The only person she allows to call her 'Suki' is Iori. I'm not sure why. And she rarely smiles anymore, though occasionally he manages to coax one from her. She seems almost relaxed and happy when she holds him. Nothing else has that effect on her. I'm wondering how 'recovered' she truly is from this recent ordeal.”

“She has nightmares, I know,” Izumi interjected quietly from the doorway. “I hear her because I don't sleep so well these last few weeks. She moans and thrashes in her sleep, and I go to her. But as soon as my hand turns the knob on her door, she snaps awake. Insisting everything is fine, of course, and telling me I shouldn't worry.” Izumi sighed with exasperation, hands on hips. “For goodness sakes, I know she's strong, but she's only human! Even if she is some powerful shinobi.” Dark eyes softened as she looked at the Copy Ninja.

“I'm really glad you're here, Kakashi. Maybe you can reach her somehow. Break through the walls she's erected. It can't be good for her to always be so controlled. Emotions that painful and strong have to surface eventually. I'm afraid for her.” Izumi sniffed, dark eyes glimmering with tears.

“She hasn't even cried for Natsu and Emiko, and I know she loved them dearly. We all did. She's gone to the memorial every night since her release from the hospital—she's probably there now. But she only goes at night, never during the day. Almost as if she has no right to be there. And I can't get her to talk about it--their deaths, her pain, any of it.” She brought a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob. Yori rose and pulled her to him gently. Tenderly, he wiped the moisture from her cheeks with his thumbs.

“Honey, it's going to be okay. She's here now, and Kakashi can reach her. I know it.” He looked across at his friend who had risen to his feet. “Help her, Kakashi. Please. Because we don't know how.”

The silver-haired shinobi crossed the room to lay a comforting palm on the distraught woman's shoulder. He clasped Yori's hand in a firm grip.

“Leave it to me. Don't push her to open up; just be here. She sounds very fragile right now. Keeping those painful emotions locked up tightly helps her maintain control. Trying to force a reaction could be dangerous. I'll do what I can to help her, I promise.”

Giving Yori's hand one last squeeze, the Copy Ninja turned to leave. In the doorway, he remembered something. Pausing on the threshold, he glanced back at the younger man.

“One more thing. You said the Hokage visited Soriya here, but then you said 'they' met with her. Who did Tsunade bring?”

Yori's grip tightened on his wife's shoulder, then eased. “That's right. I should've said so earlier. There was one other who came with her. I recognized him by reputation, only because of the scars.”

Kakashi waited. “Yes?”

Yori's voice was flat. “Ibiki Morino, head of the Torture and Interrogation Unit,” was all he said.

Kakashi closed his eye.