Gareki Ishina was not a happy person. Partly, it was because of how her peers looked at her, thinking her a coward for having fled during a fight. The fact that all her comrades had died in the blink of an eye and that the man that had slaughtered them was the Yellow Flash seemed to matter little for most of them.

Right now, though, even in the middle of the night, the jonin was not a happy person for a completely different reason. Like the other jonin-sensei, she was waiting for the end of the second task, but being the only Iwa shinobi in the whole place she was quite a peculiar case and as such she had been the target of quite a number of glares during the day. Even the Shinobi from the smaller villages had been avoiding her, hoping not to risk the ire of their Konoha host.

It was fine by her. She wasn't really here to have "her team" take part in the exam or exchange pleasantries with her enemies, anyway. Her team would pass the survival test, she had no doubt about it, they were no mere genin after all. Their investigations about the “Yellow Flash Sightings” couldn’t really start until the traditional one-month gap between the second task and the tournament in front of the potential customers. Only then would she be able to find out the truth.

That was for another time though, so she went back to sharpening her weapons and imagining how it would be satisfying to use them against the thrice-cursed blond.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

“Soooo… when are we leaving?” Sven, asked, serving to everyone his improvised porridge.

“Leaving?” Conrad asked in return, while flipping a page from the book he was reading.

“We know you left during the night, Master.”

“How so?” the Nord asked without moving his gaze from the book.

“We were woken up by you coming in while laughing,” Sven deadpanned, although he seemed quite irked about it.

“Pretty sure that our, uh, hosts know that too,” Beta said while glancing nervously to the masked guards that were literally surrounding the table they were having breakfast at. Between them and the seated wizards, the shack was a bit overcrowded.

“Do they?” Conrad pondered, playing a bit with his still slightly greased manacles as he glanced smugly at the guards. He could swear that he could feel them glaring at him even through their masks.

“Ta’Sava bets they do,” the Khajiit nodded, serving himself another portion. Where was he putting all that food?

“I’m not betting on that,” Sven said before turning back to Conrad. “Back on point, we’re all together now. So, when are we going to escape?”

“Escape?” the Nord snorted, lowering his gaze to concentrate on his breakfast. “We’re exactly where we are supposed to be.”

“What?” all the three magelings chorused, their eyes wide. Before Conrad could clarify, though, the shack's door opened and yet another person stepped into the packed room, saying something that may have been a greeting or an introduction in the Akaviri tongue. Conrad didn’t really register the greeting though, since in the second he realized who was standing on the other side of the room he could feel his blood boil.

The other Nord.

The blond bastard.

The mind-worm.

The Reminder Of Things That Are Better Left Forgotten.

A friend.

Wait, where did the last thought come from?! Conrad could feel his fury evaporate, being replaced by confusion and doubt. He surely wasn’t a friend with—

Minato. Of course it was Minato’s fault. Most of the things that had caused him problems in the last months had been related to him one way or another. He filed that in the list—he would really need to visit Castle Volkihar if he ever managed to get back in Tamriel—and decided to just glare at the man as a matter of principle.

After a few silent seconds, the man put a large bag he had been carrying on the table with an awkward smile and opened it, revealing a set of strangely small books without any hard leather cover. Judging by his students’ reaction, Conrad wasn’t the only one weirded out by that.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Sitting in his private office, Shimura Danzo reflected on the latest news he had received from his personal agents.

Namikaze Minato’s brother was not in a cell anymore. Instead, he was being kept as a valuable “guest” in a house within the ANBU training grounds. This, because of whatever Yamanaka Inoichi had found inside the foreigner’s mind.

Sarutobi had kept the information for himself and Danzo had not pressed him too much about it. Even if he considered his old friend a sentimental fool, the bandaged shinobi knew that there were limits to what he could do when it came to challenging the Hokage. Trying to pry what had clearly become classified information directly from Hiruzen was beyond those limits.

No sense trying to get the whole story from the Yamanaka, either. Should he disappear for a day or two, questions would be asked. Also, trying to interrogate a Yamanaka was a waste of time more often than not.

Of course, he had ways. He had not protected Konoha from the shadows for decades by idly waiting for vital intelligence to just land on his lap. As far as he was concerned, this Harissen Conrad was a completely unknown variable, and this was unacceptable.

He had already decided to send some of his own operators to spy on the foreigner, with discretion of course. Soon, Danzo would know what there was to know about this twin that had shown up at Konoha’s door. Maybe even more than Sarutobi.

Should the man and his young followers turn out to be a danger to Konoha, then he would strike swiftly and do what the Sandaime probably wouldn’t be able to.

Otherwise, he could think of how to use him to the village’s advantage...

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

“That’s supposed to be a tower?” a young man asked to his teammates, spying at the tall construction that emerged from the thick vegetation.

“It’s the only building in the whole forest, and it’s at the center of it. It must be,” the other one, much shorter and thinner than his companion said without even looking at said tower, opting to keeping watch around their shelter dug under a tree’s root.

“But it looks like a pile of buildings, like if someone just placed them above the other!” the first one replied back sharply. “That’s not how you build a tower!”

“Yeah, well… why don’t you go tell it to the Hokage, Mizu? Maybe he will listen to you, I’m sure he would be interested to know how you know so much about engineering.”

“Shut up Yano, you barbarian,” the bigger shinobi frowned. “People so fixated about explosions like you can’t understand the beauty in sculpting rock and earth into a perfectly stable, safe and durable example of architecture!”

“Oh I understand well instead…” Yano deadpanned, glancing at his bigger teammate. “I understand how to blow them up!”

“Cut it out, you two. Do you really have to bicker in enemy territory?” the kunoichi spoke for the first time. She understood that her teammates were frustrated, and not just for having to masquerade as genin. Deciding to hide for the first days of the exam after quickly acquiring a scroll had been a necessary move to keep their cover, since completing the test too soon would’ve looked suspicious… but idly waiting with these two was really starting to get on her nerves.

“Sorry, Kurotsuchi-sama,” Mizu quietly said. “We didn’t want to—”

“Don’t use my name, you idiot!” she hissed. “We’re undercover, or did you forget that?!”

“Right, right!” the large ‘genin’ backtracked. “Sorry, Kuroi!”

“That’s better,” the girl nodded, before going back to checking her equipment. “We’ll wait twelve more hours, and then we’ll go to the tower. Is that good?”

“Yes, all clear. Sorry for the slip, I’m not used to this undercover stuff.”

“I actually like my new name,” Yano said smiling.

“Everyone would be happy, considering how embarrassing your real name is.”

“Shut up, Mizu.”

Kurotsuchi took a deep breath, and tried to remind herself why she wasn’t able to kill these two idiots.

Oh right, they were Iwa shinobi, too.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

“Tree,” Inoichi chanted, indicating the kanji he had written on the chalkboard brought in by the ANBU, along with the rough drawing of a tree to make it even more understandable.

“Tree,” the four foreigners repeated, although with various degrees of accents and enthusiasm. Or lack of.

“Cup,” the Yamanaka kept going, writing a different symbol after erasing the previous one. He wasn’t exactly a teacher, but the point of this was more about trying to stimulate the memories that Minato had placed deep inside his brother’s mind. Or at least that was the theory.

“Cup.”

“Plate,” he said, moving on with the lesson. As the Hokage had told him, he was the best choice for this task because he could tell if Minato’s twin—Harissen-san, Inoichi chastised himself for forgetting—was any under strain because of this “treatment”.

“Plate.”

“Window,” Inoichi recited. A part of him was wondering if he had been chosen to do this just because the Sandaime didn’t want to reveal that Minato had a living family and because he had been a bit insubordinate inside his office. So here he was, trying to jog some deep-hidden memories with visual aids instead of being able to worry about his daughter, who was still in the Forest of Death.

“Window,” the group kept saying, none of them getting the intonation right. The Yamanaka couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

Unbeknownst to him, Conrad grumbled about how humiliating this was.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Somewhere far, far away from a certain Hidden Village, a man was sipping warm sake in a fairly cozy inn that would’ve deserved more customers. Sure, the food was not the best around and the booze was cheap, but the serving girls were gorgeous! That made the modest inn much better than any five-star hotel in the area in his own not-exactly humble opinion.

Of course, there was also another reason for him to be there besides some eye-candy.

“Here you go, sir,” a young beauty said, winking at him while serving some dishes. “Your special order is ready.”

He nodded, uncharacteristically not ogling at the woman—at least too much. There was business to attend to, after all. She could be ogled at later.

He took the lid off the main dish, unsurprised to see a scroll resting on a bed of fresh lettuce. Checking the seal placed upon it, he nodded in satisfaction when it turned out to be genuine. It was fortunate that he had decided to come to check in this place in case there was any news from Konoha, but had it been otherwise he was sure that his sensei would’ve managed to contact him in another way, either through his personal spy network or by sending a hawk or a messenger.

Opening the scroll after deactivating its self-destructing seal, he was not surprised to find out that it was written in code, but he didn’t become a spymaster without memorizing the most used ones or learning a trick or two of his own.

His hopes of being informed about the mysterious ship that he had found a few weeks ago quickly faded though, as he skimmed through the message with ease. Apparently he was requested to go back to Konoha, since it had come to the Hokage’s attention that one of the recently captured prisoners was actually—

Jiraiya’s mind froze, his eyes widening as he kept staring at the message. For a few long minutes, he didn’t react at all. Not even when the scroll’s seal became active again, burning the paper to a crisp in his hands. Or when the innkeeper, his contact in this backwater town, started to give him strange looks.

When he finally managed to snap out of it, he gulped the whole bottle in one go.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

“This language…” Sven started, trying to find the right words.

“Akavirian,” Beta proposed, glancing back from her book.

“Nah, Ta’Sava thinks that ‘Akaviri’ could be applied to the people and the language,” the Khajit mused, although his confusion on the written words was clear.

“No, it should be called ‘Akaviric’, I think. But still! This language doesn’t make sense,” Sven concluded with a sigh.

“Well… it does sound complicated. The different alphabet sure doesn’t help,” Beta mumbled meekly.

“I don’t think it’s an alphabet,” Conrad grunted. “This seems like a glyph-based tongue.”

“Are you saying that each letter—”

“Glyph,” Conrad reminded sternly as he copied some of them on one of his notebooks.

“—that each glyph has a different meaning?” Sven asked after correcting himself. “That sounds a bit inefficient and confusing, Master.”

“There are quite a few Tamrielic languages that used glyphs or runes, albeit they’re mostly extinct languages,” the Archmage in all but name reminded his students. Just as he had said that, the Blond Bastard erased the single symbol and started to write some new ones on the chalkboard and he noticed, much to his surprise, that he started on the top right of the chalkboard and worked his way down.

Why would he do that—

Much to his consternation, Conrad suddenly realized that the Akaviri wrote in the wrong direction. Why, only the Nine knew. But if they wrote that way, then they read that way as well, and—

With a sense of dread, Conrad checked the cover of his book. As he had been afraid after his realization, it was upside-down. He let out an exasperated groan, being fully aware of how he had spent the whole morning filling his notebook with glyphs that were not even correct. Bristling and muttering some curses, he shredded the pages he had just wasted.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Both genin impacted on the broken ground without getting up, one because of the blow he had just received, the other for the strain he had put on his body by pushing it beyond its limits.

Once the smoke started to set, everyone present was shocked to see that the Suna-nin strange technique had protected him once again, if just barely. Before Rock Lee could get up, he extended an arm and sand rushed against the taijutsu specialist, catching his left leg and arm.

Then Gaara squeezed, and Lee fell down with a pained scream and the sound of crunched bones.

Sand rushed over Lee, like giant hands wanting to crush him.

A blur of green, and the sand around the genin’s body dispersed as if hit by a shockwave as the Green Beast of Konoha stood between his student and the murderous jinchuuriki, a harsh frown set on his face.

The match was over.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Click.

Lights on.

Click.

Lights off.

Click.

Lights on.

Click.

Lights off.

Inoichi could feel his right eye twitch a bit, and only his years as a T&I interrogator helped him keep an impassive face.

It had been twenty minutes since the generator and the shack’s basic electrical wiring had been working and operational, and the group of foreigners was still in awe by something as mundane as a light bulb. The cat-boy was still gleefully hitting the switch, while muttering and discussing along with the other teens, who were indicating either the cables or the switch or the bulb and making gestures and noises.

Their… sensei, since there was no better term for it—seriously, had it not been for the obvious lack of shinobi training it would’ve seemed like this Harissen guy was in charge of a genin team or something like that—seemed to be less interested by the mysteries of something as mundane as lighting, limiting himself to scoff at his students and adding his own thoughts every once in a while. Under the gruff exterior though, Inoichi could see that the man was clearly amused and couldn’t help but wonder why he kept such a front. Maybe it was because of his—and the ANBU’s—presence.

The lights flickered once again, and Inoichi forgot about the man’s personality, hidden or otherwise, and focused again on the whole group. If they were being so stunned because of a light bulb, what did that say about the place they were from? Especially if considering the… handcrafted nature of their clothes and equipment, Inoichi couldn’t help but wonder.

Maybe there wasn’t just a difference in the language between them, after all. He would have to speak to the Hokage about this—

“Hey,” Minato’s twin gruff voice called him, interrupting the Yamanaka’s line of thought.

“Yes, Harissen-san?” Inoichi asked, although he didn’t know why he bothered. The man didn’t seem to grasp the concept of honorifics, they actually seemed to confuse him, just like the idea of taking the shoes off before entering inside the shack after the short pauses in the lessons.

“Continue,” the foreigner said while frowning, as if he was trying to find the right words. “Lesson. Yes?”

Inoichi smiled faintly, before nodding. He had not taught them the word “lesson” yet.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

"You fool!" Jiraiya yelled at Naruto, genuinely pissed by the kid's dissing of his novel. "I'm not just a pervert! Peeping gives me inspiration to write better—"

"Liar! What a lame excuse!" Naruto accused, flipping the bird at the Sannin. "Now what am I going to do about my training?"

"Training?" the Toad Sage asked, faking confusion at the sudden change of topic. "Are you talking about water walking?"

"You know about it?!" Naruto exclaimed excitedly, pointing a finger at Jiraiya with theatrical fare. "Then take responsibility and help me with my training!"

"I hate disrespectful and rude brats!" Jiraiya all but howled to the poor genin, while inwardly he was grinning at the fact that Naruto had asked him to train him.

Just as planned.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Inoichi sat on the log that laid outside of the shack, beside his fellow blond. He didn’t know where the other man had got the log there under the vigilant ANBU watch, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

The teens had started to tidy up while being shadowed by two ANBU, while another one perched like a bird on the roof kept an eye to Konoha's most recent S-rank secret. Inoichi would bet that the others were still patrolling the forest.

“You know brother?” the stranger that had a way too familiar face asked suddenly. “Know Minato?”

Inoichi hesitated for a few seconds. Of course, had it been him the one that found out that he had a dead long-lost sibling, he would want to know as well. Still, he couldn’t tell him everything, it was a matter of village security after all.

“Yes, Harissen-san. I knew Minato.”

“Conrad. Name Conrad,” the man all but growled. Apparently, he didn’t like to be addressed in such a formal way. “You friends?”

“Minato was a comrade at first, but… he was the one that kept all of us close when we were younger. It was impossible to not be his friend,” the Yamanaka said with a sad smile, reminiscing the old days of youth. Then he noticed the confused expression on the other man, and realized that he may have used too many words that were unfamiliar for him. “Yes, I was Minato’s friend.”

Conrad nodded, and looked away. A long and awkward silence descended on the shack, interrupted by the sounds of the teens doing the equivalent of a D-rank mission on their abode.

“Tell me of Minato?” the man spoke again after a bit. “I never know him.”

“Minato was—” the Yamanaka started, only to stop on his tracks when he realized that he couldn’t use too complex phrases. He really, really hoped that that part of Minato’s planted memories would kick in faster, and soon. “Minato was a good man. A brilliant one, and as I said, friendly too. Even if he could be a bit silly sometimes, especially when he tried to come up with names for his new jutsu—”

“What?” the foreigner gruffly asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Nevermind. I forgot that you are not familiar with the term, sorry,” Inoichi was curious about the jutsu that apparently had nothing to do with chakra, but with Harissen-san's limited vocabulary he had no idea how to ask so he opted to continue his tale about Minato. “He was also very loyal and… dedicated, I guess. After the war was over—”

“War?” The word had escaped Conrad’s lips more than being spoken. Inoichi almost tried to explain what a war was, but he could see from the man’s eyes that he knew war. Maybe even more than one, judging by the look in his eyes.

“Yes, there was a war, years ago. A big one.”

“Minato is… was a warrior?”

“I… suppose you could see it in that way, yes. A lot of us were, back then,” Inoichi said softly, remembering all the fallen friends and fellow shinobi lost in the conflict. “After the war was over, he became Hokage just like he had always dreamed. That’s the name of our leader, by the way.”

In hindsight, he found that the idea that Minato’s child had the same dream hilarious. And sad at the same time.

“A jarl?!” was the surprised question, along an unfamiliar word. “Minato was jarl?”

“I… don’t know what a ‘jarl’ is, I’m afraid. But if that’s how you call your leaders, then yes.”

“Minato was jarl,” the man repeated with a snort. There was another pause before he spoke again. “How… he died?”

“He… A… the village was attacked,” Inoichi said slowly, once again reflecting how to tell this without revealing anything compromising. He decided to follow Sandaime’s law and the official version of that night’s events. It was the right thing to do, but it still felt wrong somehow. “A monster, the Kyuubi, attacked the village, and Minato—”

“A ‘monster’?” Minato’s twin asked, tilting the head at the unfamiliar word.

“Yes, a monster. A very strong beast?” he tried to explain. Harissen-san probably didn’t have an idea of what a bijuu was, though so he would probably not understand—

“You have monsters, here?” the other man asked, interrupting Inoichi’s thoughts. “Me see none, uh… walk here. No beasts, no monsters. Nothing. Weird.”

“Travelling here? You didn’t see any monster travelling here?”

“Yes. Home, more monsters. You travel, you find a lot,” Conrad smugly explained. How could someone be smug about such a thing, the Yamanaka had no idea. “Home is dangerous.”

“We have dangers, too. I assure you,“ he said, but the Yamanaka couldn’t help but secretly wonder what kind of creatures the man was talking about.

“Minato die… died,” Conrad said, correcting himself as he got a little more better in the spoken language. It seemed that Inoichi was right, after all. “Against the monster?”

“Sorry if we got a bit side-tracked. Yes, he died after killing the monster.”

“Monster dangerous?” the man asked, appearing genuinely curious. Inoichi didn’t respond immediately. After all, how do you explain what it feels to be in the presence of the powerful, malicious and hateful Nine-Tailed Fox, probably the most powerful being in the Elemental Nations? Especially when you can’t use too many words?

“The most dangerous,” he simply replied. Somehow, it didn’t give it justice.

“Good death, then. He deserve Sovngarde,” Minato’s twin said glumly, and the foreign words utterly confused the Yamanaka. Maybe it was a word that the other blond wasn’t able to translate. “But Minato soul… trapped? Yes, gets trapped.”

“That’s a way to see it, I suppose—” Inoichi said, wincing at the reminder that his friend’s soul was probably suffering unspeakable tortures inside the Shinigami’s belly.

“Minato… had family?” the foreigner asked all of sudden, interrupting him. “A… woman? Anyone?”

“No!” the Yamanaka replied almost too quickly, before composing himself. “No, he didn’t have a family, I’m afraid. Do you have—”

“No,” the man said. And there was enough regret and sorrow in that simple word that Inoichi kept himself from asking more.

Once again an uncomfortable silence fell on the clearing. It lasted longer than the first one, before the sound of something fragile broke from inside the shack, followed by two of the teens yelling at each other.

“Is there really a way to reach the Shinigami’s belly in your land?” Inoichi asked, changing topic.

“Shinigami?” Conrad asked, once again confused by the unknown word.

“Where Minato’s soul is,” the mind-walker clarified.

“Soul Cairn, yes. Went there. See… saw Minato there,” he nodded slowly. “Dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

“You go there, you dead,” was the dead-panned reply.

“How… how are you still alive then?” Inoichi asked in confusion.

“I no know words to explain,” the man sighed with a frown.

“Your land is very different, isn’t it?” the Yamanaka asked, changing the topic again.

“Yes,” Conrad nodded.”No… lights, there. No ones you have.”

“You mentioned monsters, earlier. Did you fight a lot of them?” he asked, although he doubted—and hoped—that whatever creatures they had there could be compared to a bijuu.

“Yes. Many,” the man nodded with a glare. “And people.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked if that makes you uncomfortable—”

“No. You have to. You—” the interruption died in Conrad’s throat with a groan. “I no know words to talk.”

“Why don’t you try anyway? You’ve made incredible progress for someone that didn’t even know our language a couple of weeks ago.”

“Minato’s fault. No my… merit? Yes, merit.”

“That may be true, but it’s still remarkable,” Inoichi reassured. “Now, why don’t you try to explain it to me?”

“Me think… you have to figure me. How me fight. How me think. What me want,” Conrad slowly said, turning towards Inoichi once more. “Figure if me dangerous.”

“I—”

“No know language, but not stupid.”

“I know you’re not. And, yes. You’re right. We don’t know what to do with you, or what would you want from us. That’s why we’re trying to find out.”

“You attack me first. You ask things, can’t answer. Enter my mind. You… remember me things,” Minato’s twin growled, and Inoichi could swear that he saw his pupils shift and change shape for less than a second. What the hell happened in that city he had seen inside the man’s memory? “After you find Minato is brother, you want to talk.”

“We thought that someone was impersonating our deceased Hokage!” Inoichi lashed out, albeit more because of his frustration than real malice. “And you were doing that strange jutsu that shot a storm of blue lights in the sky, which was tracking down the seals Minato left before dying, and only Minato could’ve known about them and—”

“Understood half what you say,” Conrad interrupted him with a deadpan stare. Inoichi grumbled a bit at that, massaging his temples.

“Look,” he started slowly. “You said that the… iarl is your leader, correct?”

“Leader of city, yes,” the man nodded, gesturing towards the cliff and in Konoha’s direction.

“Good. Now, I want you to imagine this: years after a iarl died, a stranger arrives. He looks like the dead jarl. And he can’t talk your language—”

“All Tamriel know language—”

“Just imagine that he can’t talk your language, please,” the Yamanaka interrupted a bit too harshly than he would’ve wanted to. “What would you do?”

“Capture him,” Harissen-san finally admitted after a long reflection. “Find out truth.”

“See? You can’t say that we did anything wrong, given the situation.”

“Is wrong for me,” the man scowled again.

“Look, we’re stuck with each other whether you like it or not. The faster you speak fluently in my language, the sooner you’ll be able to talk with Hokage-sama, and your fate will be in his hands. So suck it up.”

At that, instead of answering, the man opted to look away and mutter something in his harsh and hard-sounding tongue. Probably insults at the Yamanaka’s ancestry, but Inoichi wasn’t sure.

“Want something,” Conrad said after reflecting for a good minute. Inoichi arched an eyebrow at that. “Bring me… drink. No water. I tell you what you want know.”

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Jiraiya could barely believe it. Yet, the living proof was standing right in front of him.

Sure, technically the Sannin was hidden inside a particularly thick bush, masquerading his presence with all the little tricks in the book—and some of his own design, just to be sure, but that would’ve been nitpicking.

At mere meters from him, there was a man that could’ve passed for Minato, if Minato had lived to this day, showed more years than he should, got three nasty scars on one side of his face and had completely forgotten how to move like a shinobi and developed a beard fetish for some reason.

A twin. A genuine, clichéd long-lost identical twin from a far, far land beyond the sea, whose alliances or agenda was almost completely unknown. And to make it even better, Minato had sent him here to shed some light on the events behind the Kyuubi’s attack on the village.

Had it not been for all the evidence supporting this, Jiraiya would’ve called it a premise for a very bad novel. He should’ve known, he lived on trashy novels. Not that he didn’t like to write porn, but at the start of his literary career, he had hoped to write something more—

The man’s head snapped from the book he had been reading and looked straight into Jiraiya’s direction. Surprised, the Sannin immediately substituted himself with a small toad that he had left behind, just in case.

He couldn’t help but smile. Either he was going soft, or Minato’s brother was sharp.

A part of Jiraiya wanted to get out of his hiding place and just go to talk to the man, but he knew better. Besides the fact that from what he had been told this… Conrad was not exactly a proficient conversationalist, he had wasted enough time by satisfying his curiosity. Orochimaru was still at large, probably around or even inside the village, and he had to train Naruto for the upcoming match with the Hyuuga.

He waited until the man decided that his book was much more interesting than whoever may hide in the bushes—probably thinking that it was just one of the ANBU that patrolled all around the shack—and silently left, having made up his mind to know the brother only after he had ensured that Minato’s son would survive the chunin exams.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Inoichi gazed over the table, feeling a little bit of pride at his brilliance. The lessons had progressed swiftly lately, especially since Harissen had started to correct his younger companions every now and then. Their grasp on the more advanced aspects of the language was still… lacking, but it was a progress.

So, to encourage them to apply what they had learned, he had decided to treat them with a home-cooked dinner at their lodgings. Thank goodness for the generator otherwise they would’ve been forced to eat with candlelights.

There was a rule, though: they were forbidden to speak in their own native language. After all, the aim was making them more comfortable with a tongue they were unfamiliar with during a social event. The fact that they were seemingly enjoying his cooking was a welcome bonus, even if it was just some rice with fish and veggies.

Sadly, making them use the chopsticks correctly turned out to be quite impossible—

“Please, uh, can Ta’Sava have more?” the cat-boy suddenly asked, the already empty bowl in his hands—or was “paws” a more correct term here? Whatever the case, he seemed really insatiable.

“You mean ‘Please, may I have some more’,” Inoichi corrected him patiently.

“Yes. What Ta’Sava say,” the feline said, clearly confused by the Yamanaka’s explanation.

“No, you don’t have to say your name every time, you can just—”

“Forget it,” Conrad interrupted him. “He not stopping.”

“But—”

“Normal for him,” the other blond explained with a shrug. “No worry.”

“Forgive me if I ask, I don’t want to be rude but… is it normal?” Inoichi asked in a whisper, getting closer to Minato’s twin. The man looked puzzled, and glanced at Ta’Sava, who was more interested into gouging down another portion of fish.

“Started eating more. Before he not,” the man mumbled, as if he had just noticed that.

“Uh, no I meant his appearance,” the Yamanaka whispered again. “What he looks like.”

"What? Ta'Sava dirty?" the cat-like teen asked as he stopped eating, having apparently heard everything Inoichi had said. He glanced at his two peers with a confused frown. "What wrong Ta'Sava?"

“Bothing wrong with Ta’Sava,” the girl immediately reassured gently.

“Nothing wrong, Beta,” Conrad corrected. “Not ‘bothing’.”

"I meant his... peculiar features,” Inoichi clarified once for all, not bothering to whisper since it seemed that Ta’Sava would hear it anyway. “Is it because of a bloodline limit?"

The question was met by a long, stunned silence, along with various degrees of confusion and arched eyebrows.

"What is blood... line?" Beta asked, trying to grasp the new word.

"It's..." Inoichi trailed off, actually wondering how to explain it simply. "It's a power or ability passed down in a family."

"Oh. No, Ta’Sava not has blood-line," the grey cat said, as if simply stating a fact, much to the shinobi’s confusion. How else would those feline features be explained if not—

"Ta'Sava is Khajiit," Conrad said, understanding being hearable in his voice.

"A what?"

"Khajiit. Beast-people... race. No human. Different people."

"Not... human?" Inoichi asked, studden by this development. While it explained why the DNA tests made on the feline teen were inconclusive, it still made his head spin a little. "How is that possible?"

"It just is... ?" the kid that had seemed strangely interested when he prepared the dish—Sven, if he remembered correctly—stated, apparently confused by how this could confuse Inoichi.

"You have no... different people?” Beta asked softly. “Only humans?"

"No, as far as I know there are no other... races, among the nations,” Inoichi replied. Sure, there were a lot of strange creatures in the Elemental Nations, but none that could be considered intelligent as a person. Those were just fairy tales and legends, remnants of a more superstitious age…

Just like dragons.

"Explains people look you weird, Ta'Sava," the gruff man scoffed, before going back to his dinner.

"Is blood-line... good?" Ta'Sava asked with a pensive expression. Not sure how to answer to that, given how differently bloodlines were perceived around the countries, the Yamanaka opted to nod. After all, Konoha loved its bloodlines. "Conrad-sensei have one, then!"

There was a choking sound, and rice grains flew everywhere as Inoichi looked in shock at the man that was struggling to breathe besides him. Was Harissen Conrad really in possession of an unknown doujutsu, like Ibiki had said?

"Not from family,” the foreigner managed to say between one cough and the other, resuming only when it calmed down. “Not blood limit. Is... different thing."

"Then, what is it?" Inoichi inquired, eager to hear the man’s explanation.

"Power... from soul. No sure how to explain," Conrad sheepily said, ruffling his own hair in a way that caused Inoichi to flinch. It was the same annoying habit that Minato used to have.

"Sensei is... uh... big... thing?" Ta'Sava mumbled, clearly unable to explain with his limited vocabulary.

"Sensei is... good person? No, that not right word,” Sven guessed, before quickly backtracking. “Conrad-sensei is important... story?”

"Not a story. More than story," Beta declared with a large smile, her shyness apparently forgotten. She had even straightened up, suddenly proud for some reason.

"More than a story... ? Do you mean that he is famous?" Inoichi guessed, remembering that he would’ve to teach them more words in the future lessons.

"What is famous?" Minato’s brother asked.

"It means being celebrated, renowned, having a widespread and generally favorable reputation, and—" the Yamanaka started, only to start again with a dumbed down explanation. "It means that people like him and talk about him."

"Yes, sensei is famous—" the cat-boy exclaimed in a hurry, only to be interrupted by his teacher.

"No all like me, Ta'Sava," Conrad grumbled.

"What are you famous for, exactly?” Inoichi inquired further, hoping to find one more piece in the puzzle.

"Conrad-sensei has... big... thing that... in soul? No, for soul!" Ta'Sava answered in his teacher’s place, which earned him a glare that went completely unnoticed because of his enthusiasm.

"Something in his soul?" the mind-walker wondered in confusion, glancing to the other man.

"Something big, that do this!" Ta'Sava continued his explanation, flopping his arms frantically.

"Big thing that... fire? Fire, yes. Something with fire,” the other boy frowned, clearly unsure how to continue. ”And things."

Inoichi could feel the color flee his face as he connected the dots, remembering what had transpired inside the man’s mind. Slowly, he met Conrad’s apparently impassive gaze, but considering the tightened jaw, Inoichi could see that he was not pleased by the matter that was being discussed.

"And he travel and... and stuff?" the girl stopped, apparently unsure how to continue the tale. “No sure what sensei does—”

“Dinner is over,” Conrad suddenly said, stopping the discussion altogether. “Clean up? Yes?”

"But—"

"Clean. Up," the man repeated, sternly. With a huff, the teenagers started to gather the now empty plates, apparently used to their teacher’s borderline rude behaviour.

Said teacher, instead, grabbed one of the sake bottles that Inoichi had brought with him and with a great stride left the shack, not before looking back at Inoichi, as if to invite him to follow. He did so, giving one last glance at the kids as they retrieved some water from a barrel to wash the dirty dishes—Inoichi really hoped that they could get running, heated water soon but apparently there was some problem with installing the plumbing.

The fresh night air welcomed him, and he found Minato’s brother sitting on the same log of the previous day, right under the only light outside the house. Apparently he was not enjoying the sake, given the grim faces he was making, but he was still gulping it down like it was water.

Alcoholism, perhaps? He really didn’t want to rush a psychiatric profile, but his gut was telling him that Harissen Conrad was a man well-versed in drowning his sorrows, among other things.

The Yamanaka sat on the other side of the log, as the man gagged again. Seriously, what was wrong with sake anyway?

"You have some unusual power, but it's not a bloodline," he simply said, just stating the fact.

"Yes," Conrad confirmed with a nod.

"Can you explain?" Inoichi asked, studying the foreigner’s reaction. Had he been a Konoha citizen, asking such a thing would’ve been incredibly rude. Shinobi of every standing were really jealous of their personal techniques and their inner workings. You just didn’t ask about that stuff, but Inoichi knew he had to.

“No secret. Everyone home knows," Conrad shrugged instead, unknowingly defying centuries of shinobi tradition. Inoichi really hoped that his expression didn’t show how appalled he was, and started asking questions.

"Is the dragon I saw in your mind the source of your power?"

"That how you say it? 'Dragon'?" the foreigner mumbled, apparently amused about having learned that word.

"Is it?" Inoichi questioned again.

"Yes, but… no. Maybe? Not sure what you see,” Conrad spoke slowly, frowning deeply. “Words are problem. No sure how to explain, but dragon is… not source. Other dragon are.”

“Other dragons?” the mind-walker hastily asked, remembering well the enormous skeletons he had seen days ago, inside the man’s mind.

“Yes. Dragons are source. But it is no power… is duty,” the man slowly said, stopping only to take one more sip from the bottle. “Burden, even.”

“A burden?” Inoichi asked, his eyes widening a fraction. He didn’t like the sound of it. It reminded him too much about how the Sandaime described Uzumaki Naruto’s… condition.

“Sometimes,” Conrad nodded, before meeting Inoichi’s eyes. Even with the dim light, the Yamanaka could have sworn that they had become slitted for less than a second. “No asked for this.”

The shinobi silently stared at the other man for a long time, reflecting on what he had learned so far. He didn't have to be in the man's head to realize that the man's thoughts were taking a dark turn, and judging by the memories he'd seen earlier and how his subconscious reacted to reliving them, that definitely wasn't a good idea. As for the man's "power", he was pretty sure that he was at a dead end until Conrad gained a better grasp of their language. Considering that for all he knew it could've been anything from some weird bloodline to a sealed bijuu, there was no way they could ask for a demonstration.

"Say, Harissen-san, your... students," Inoichi asked, trying to distract the foreigner from the dark thoughts that were festering in his mind.

"What about them?" Conrad asked, throwing away the empty bottle as far as he could. The Yamanaka had to resist the urge to reprimand him for littering.

"They seem a bit... untrained. Not good at fighting," he said, adding the last bit when he saw a confused frown forming on the other man's face. Inoichi tactfully forgot to mention the fact that even a genin could probably beat them, though.

"Of course. They kids. Too young for that. They... huh... no know word... place where you learn things?"

“That could either be a school, or the Academy?”

“What is difference?”

“Well, in a school you learn… normal stuff, I guess? While in the academy you learn how to control your chakra, channel it to create jutsu with the use of handsigns, and—”

“You people use those words. I no know what they mean.”

“Magic,” Inoichi quickly said, deciding to dumb down the description about handsigns, chakra, elements and jutsu the most he could. “They learn to do magic at the academy. Among fighting and… other skills.”

"What is magic?"

"Magic is... doing things that are otherwise impossible," the Yamanaka stated after a little thought.

"Oh. Like this?" the man asked, comprehension dawning on his face. He flickered his left hand and much to Inoichi’s shocked surprise, a small light no bigger than a firefly but bright as the light bulb on the shack’s wall started to levitate in front of him.

How was it possible, since the seals on his manacles should keep sucking his chakra dry?!

"I do magic. Kids too. Learned at Winterhold Academy."

The shinobi studied the small light, weirded out by how… off it felt. Not because he had an apparently harmless light floating just beside him, but because he couldn’t feel any chakra emanating from it. He felt something, but it felt empty, like an echo… whatever it was, it wasn’t chakra. Furthermore, he had not felt any chakra being used by Harissen-san as he used the jutsu—Inoichi wasn’t sure if it should be classified as a ninjutsu or genjutsu—and on top of it the man had done it without handsigns at all! That was just unheard of!

“Winterhold Academy?” he asked, hiding his confusion as best as he could. If there was a place that taught such things, asking questions about it was a wise move to find out about Harissen Conrad’s allegiances.

“Old place. A cold place. Teach magic, lot people come to study. Learn magic there,” was the brief description.

“Wait, you mean that… you let people come and learn freely?” the mind-walker asked, this time not bothering to keep his composure.

“Of course. If them deserve to learn,” Conrad answered, like it was a matter of fact. Inoichi could feel his head spin a little. A place where everyone could just show up and be taught ‘magic’, no matter where they were from… such a thing was utterly alien to him, even if apparently they had some criteria when it came to selecting students.

“What—what about your students?” he asked, saying the first thing that came to mind. “Where do they come from?”

“Me think Beta come from Solitude—city of Skyrim, big one,” Conrad quickly explained as Inoichi got confused by the foreign word… only to be confused by another one. Although he could bet that ‘Skyrim’ was a nation of some kind. Nations had cities, after all. “Ta’Sava is… maybe from Khajiit caravan? And Sven… I no idea where Sven come from. He Imperial, can be anywhere.”

“You don’t even know where your students are from? … that sounds a bit irresponsible.”

“Never was responsible man,” the other blond snorted, crossing his arms. Although there was a trace of sadness in his voice.

“Why did you accept them, then?” Inoichi couldn’t help but ask, genuinely intrigued.

“Had to. Was forced to teach. Them and entire… group? Mob? Pack?”

“Class?” the Yamanaka proposed, although he couldn’t really imagine Harissen Conrad teaching anything to a—

“That right. Me teach them and entire class of kids when I came back to Academy, after years.”

“Years away?” he asked, intrigued. Was this normal for this Winterhold place, or had Minato’s brother a special permission, like the Sannin did? “How many?”

“Eight. Almost nine. Went there to… study what Minato gave me,” Conrad said, tapping a finger against his temple. “Then left. Here I am.”

“The memories?”

“No, them came later. First it was… uh… what take me here.”

“I’ve read the report of what happened with Anko and Ibiki,” Inoichi said, noting how his colleagues’ names seemed to irritate Conrad. “They mentioned that you traced a seal during the interrogation. Do you know about it?”

“No. I no even know what seal is… means nothing to me,” the man said, and Inoichi inwardly sighed in relief. Harissen Conrad didn’t know the Hiraishin no Jutsu. The Hokage would be glad to know that.

“Say, if you know that your students are not trained or… too young, as you said, how come you took them with you?”

"No take them. They hide in ship," Conrad said gruffly. "Me still angry."

"I see," Inoichi deadpanned. He had read Jiraiya’s report too of course. Normally he wouldn’t have, but since he was being assigned to this mission it had been necessary, and he was really happy that dealing with a ship full of foreigners stuck in a hostile nation was not his job. “You thought that the voyage could be too dangerous for them.”

“Yes, but… not just that,” Conrad said, peaking Inoichi’s interest. “Dangerous for them… being with me.”

“Why would you—You’re afraid of hurting them? With your ‘power’?”

“What? No! Me care for them, you dumb… dumb!” Conrad almost yelled, visibly flustered. If it was because of what he had just admitted, his lame attempt to insult him or both, Inoichi didn’t know. “Other people… enemies? Yes, enemies. Them would hurt them, to hurt me. Like you threaten to do,” he finished darkly, sparing the shinobi a glance.

“Well… I doubt that your enemies could do something to them here. Don’t you agree?” Inoichi asked trying to cheer up his friend’s brother. The only reaction he got was half a smile, half a snort.

"Minato have enemies, yes?" he asked after a short silence, much to Inoichi’s bewilderment. For not being a shinobi, he was good at seeing underneath the underneath.

"Yes, he did," Inoichi admitted. No reason to hide that, after all.

"You keep me here to hide from them,” Conrad merely stated, his tone strangely neutral.

"Partly, yes. Should they know that you are around, they would mistake you for Minato and even come to attack us just to get to you. Should they know you're just his brother—"

"They come after only me," the foreigner finished for him.

"Yes. In a way, we're protecting you."

"No need protection,” Conrad growled, frowning at him. “Me Dovahkiin. Me can fight."

"I'm sure you are," Inoichi slowly said, hesitating in front of the unknown word. If that’s how the four guests felt, it was surely irritating. "But even if you're a skilled warrior, or... dovakin or whatever you are, you would still be unable to defend yourself from a shinobi, especially if they prepare for it—"

"Give magic-man time to prepare, you no stop him," the self-proclaimed ‘magic man’ said smugly, sure of his words. Inoichi had to muster all his will to not laugh at the ridiculous appellative. Maybe it was a bad attempt to translate the word ‘dovakin’?

"Shinobi are still faster," he countered, trying to appeal to reason. After all, they had captured him.

"Then I slow them," Conrad counter-countered with a shrug.

"Slow them? How?" the shinobi asked, not really believing that such a thing could happen.

"Magic," the other blond said with an evil grin. “Dragon magic.”

"Look, this is getting us off topic and I don't want to discuss about who would win," Inoichi said with a groan.

“Because me would,” Conrad quickly replied.

“Keep telling yourself that,” the Yamanaka muttered. ”Now—”

“Want to ask for something,” the man interrupted him.

"What else do you want?" he asked, rolling his eyes. Harissen-san didn’t answer immediately, instead he glanced briefly towards the shack. Apparently, the teens had finished cleaning up and were now talking and joking in their native tongue.

"Want to teach them, Inoichi," the ‘dovakin’ firmly said, looking straight into the shinobi’s eyes.

For a long moment, neither of the two man said anything, both holding their breath: one because he hoped for an answer, the other because he was afraid to give it.

"No," Inoichi flatly told him. The village couldn’t allow the ‘magic-man’ to freely throw jutsu, even if it was to train his students.

"Them must learn," Conrad argued, his tone starting to be filled by anger. “You say it, them are untrained.”

"It's not my decision, Harissen-san—"

"Conrad,” he hissed, clearly still not liking being addressed so formally. “Call me Conrad."

"It's not my decision, Harissen-san!” Inoichi snapped. “And we can't let you throw fireballs or lightning around, do you understand that?"

"Can teach different things! Lots of things, no fighting, still good. Useful," Conrad said, sounding like he was really, really trying to push through the meager vocabulary with brute force. "Healing. Book things. Changing... stuff. Bottle... things!"

“Bottle things?” Inoichi muttered, confused by the choice of words. Then realization hit him as if a switch had been turned on inside his brain. “Do you mean the contents of those bottles we found on you?”

“No, other lot bottles me had,” Conrad deadpanned, the sarcasm dripping from his words. “What you think?”

“How do you make those liquids, anyway?” he asked. The Hokage and the scientific division seemed to be very curious and confused by them respectively.

“Bit like… cooking. Only not. You see,” the other man assured with a sly smile. For the life of him, the Yamanaka couldn’t see something that had been compared to cooking being dangerous, especially if they showed the process with the ANBU watching them like hawks. It would kill two birds with a stone, Harissen Conrad would be satisfied and the Sandaime would get some answers.

“I will ask the Hokage,” Inoichi sighed. “No promises, though.”

“We need something,” Conrad added, failing to express any gratitude. The bastard.

“What is it this time?”

“Ingredients.”

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

"Hn... where is this—" Naruto tiredly asked immediately after regaining consciousness.

"Get up," Jiraiya ordered, not giving the kid time to register his surroundings.

"W-what?" he asked, still barely on his feet.

"The training ends today... if you don't want to die then figure it out yourself," the Sannin said, before flicking Naruto's forehead with enough strength to make the genin stumble a few meters behind.

Just enough to fall into the ravine.

Jiraiya really, really hoped that Minato would forgive him for this.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

The small kitchen and dining room area had been turned into a sort of makeshift laboratory, as the four inhabitants of the shack trafficked between pots, alembics, and mortar and pestles, carefully pulverizing ingredients and reagents and adding them to the boiling mixtures. The chalkboard that had been used for the language lessons was full of instructions and lists in the foreigners’ language, and the kids would glance at it every once in a while before proceeding with their work.

The ANBU were carefully surveying the scene of course, along with a chunin from the archives that was documenting everything he could. Inoichi, instead, was more interested in watching Harissen Conrad.

Who was seemingly focused on the task of eating a flower from the ones that Inoichi had brought from his family’s shop, among other things. Chewing it, slowly munching it, eyes half-closed like he was trying to understand every detail of the little flower’s flavour, searching for… something.

“This is good for, urhm… green one,” he finally said to his students, spitting the chewed petals’ remains. Even if the instructions had been written in their language, they couldn’t speak it. That way the demonstration served two purposes: giving them more familiarity with the local tongue and showing off their skills.

“What is the ‘green one’ for?” Inoichi asked, turning towards the foreigner.

“It help if you tired,” Conrad said, pausing to think about what words to use. Minato’s memories surely did miracles in the last weeks but learning a language was still a slow process, of course. “You feel… rested, after you drink it.”

“Sounds like a liquid soldier pill,” the desk-nin muttered while taking a few notes. “Is there any side-effect?”

“Side…?” Conrad asked, clearly confused.

“Is it dangerous to drink?” the Yamanaka clarified for him.

“No. If you no fill whole stomach. Or drink too different ones."

"Why is that?" the mind-walker asked.

"May cause… reaction. Inside you,” the Yondaime’s brother explained, pointing at his own stomach.

"Not a good thing," Sven added, grimacing at the thought.

"What happens to you if one of these 'reactions' happens inside your stomach?" the chunin piped-in, leaning closer to the table. Conrad opened his mouth and immediately closed it, apparently unsure how to explain it.

"Result may vary," he finally said with a mirthless snort.

"Seriously?" Inoichi asked. That was surely not the explanation he was hoping for.

"Dozens on dozens of effects. Mixing with no sense in a person. Try guess," Conrad quickly said meeting his eyes with a hard stare.

"Alright, but why don’t you give us an example?” the Yamanaka encouraged.

“May hurt you. Make you sick… not work at all. Or…”

“Or...?”

"Saw man drink seven different ones. Stomach exploded,” Conrad deadpanned. The kids grimaced at the thought, or at the tone their teacher had used.

Inoichi glanced over as the chuunin's face lit up and he quickly scribbled the detail down. He would bet that the scientific division would probably try to weaponize such a thing as an assassination weapon.

"But them good for you if you careful!"

"What if you're in a hurry and you accidentally drink the wrong one? What then?"

"Made mistake a few times. You learn not to. Keep them organized."

"What about the red one?" Inoichi gestured to the one that the girl, Beta, was carefully pouring in a vial. “What does it do?”

"That one heal you."

“Heal you? So it’s a cure for some sickness? Which one?” the other shinobi asked.

“Sickness… ? No, no. It heal you,” Conrad repeated. “Stop blood, close wound… ?”

“So it helps the body to heal?” the chunin inquired. “How quickly?”

“Lot quickly, most common kind,” the man immediately guaranteed, to which Inoichi and the chunin exchanged a perplexed stare.

“That’s just impossible,” the desk-nin said disbelievingly.

"No, is truth," Conrad countered, frowning at the statement like it was an accusation.

"Harissen-san, surely you must realize how ridiculous that sounds,” Inoichi tried to reason. “To heal quickly just by drinking something?"

"Beta, is it ready?" the other blond asked without looking at the girl.

"Huh?” the teen mumbled in surprise. “Yes I think so but why—"

Without even waiting for the girl to finish her question, Conrad took his hand and bit at the edge of his palm with a swift crunch, his face tightening against the pain.

Every shinobi in the room, even the observing chuunin immediately fell into combat-ready stances, startled by the sudden gesture as well-ingrained training kicked in at the sight of blood. The magelings flinched at the obviously hostile postures and looked to Conrad for guidance, but other than that he made no motions to them, still chewing his own hand instead. They opted to try to look the least signficant as possible and held their breath.

"Harissen-san!” Inoichi exclaimed. “What are you doing?!"

Conrad drew his dripping hand away, and gestured for Beta to hand him the phial. He took it from the girl’s shaking hands and downed the contents with a single gulp.

Much to Inoichi's awe, the wound started to mend itself, one stratum at a time, until the skin closed like a curtain. leaving only a small smear of blood on an otherwise untouched hand the only sign that the wound had even been there.

"No scar," Conrad said, approvingly. "Good, Beta. Good. Still tastes bad."

"Sensei please no do that!" Beta yelled, finally getting over her panic.

"Inoichi-san, w-what did just ha—" the chunin mumbled, only to be interrupted by Inoichi’s awed voice.

"This is… going to change everything about field medicine..."

"Really? Simple thing back home,” Conrad shrugged, and the Yamanaka couldn’t help but wonder how such a miraculous thing had been developed in a land without electricity. “Better for little wounds. Bad ones... you need healer."

"T-this is simple?!” the chuunin exclaimed, flabbergasted. “H-ho-how many of these brews do you have in your homeland?"

"Many. I write list," the foreigner said. Inoichi couldn’t help but think that men would’ve killed to have that list. And here he was, offering it to them without a second thought, like it was common knowledge… maybe it was, in Harissen Conrad's homeland. If only he knew that entire wars could be waged over such a 'discovery'. Droves of shinobi would gladly bleed and die for any chance to give their village an edge or to keep it secret. And this? This was no mere edge. This was a new tool altogether.

Foreign, unknown, and powerful.

Even the daimyo would have demanded it, for his subjects and his armies.

"Keep going, you three. Check ingredients before use," Conrad said, putting the empty vial on the table and completely unaware of what he may have done. "One more hour."

"I think I've heard enough about how brews and tonics are prepared for now," the chunin giddily declared. "Inoichi-san? If you would...."

"Harissen-san?" Inoichi called, getting a scroll out of his flak jacket as he took a step towards the man. "Inside this scrolls there are some of your bottled... tonics, I guess. We would like to know what they do."

"No call me that—What?” Conrad said in confusion, interrupting yet another attempt to correct Inoichi about his name. “Inside scroll?"

"You... don't have sealing scrolls in your land, do you?" the blond shinobi asked, finding it ironic that such a place could have incredibly advanced healing—and who knew what else—but still lack one of the most common and used sealing techniques.

"We have... Old Scrolls, me guess,” the man said, caressing his beard. “And small ones with magic. No ‘sealing’ scrolls."

"Allow me, then," Inoichi said, placing the scroll on the ground and opening it, revealing the standard seal traced onto it. A couple of hand seals later, and a pile of items appeared on the scrolls with a flash of smoke.

On the paper surface laid a perfectly organized small collection of glass vials and small bottles, their contents of various colours but the blue and red ones being the most common.

Inoichi turned to face Minato's brother again, only to see the man all but lunge to a brownish bottle.

"Me afraid lost it!" Conrad yelled, apparently filled with joy.

"Is that an important one?" Inoichi asked, wondering what could make the man react like this.

"Most important! No like sake you give me."

"Not like the sake? ... that's just cheap alcohol?" the Yamanaka asked unamused. Maybe he should evaluate Harissen Conrad as an alcoholic in an eventual psychological profile.

"No, you shame of Nord! It's—"

"What is a Nord?" Inoichi asked.

"Me is Nord! Man from Skyrim. Your ancestors too, I bet."

"That doesn't make sense, Harissen-san,” Inoichi tried to reason. “My family always lived in Fire Country."

"You have Nord blood in you, or me no Dovahkiin," Conrad just scoffed.

"I am Nord, too!" Beta said from the table, shyly raising her hand.

"Is mead. Best drink ever!” the man continued, reprising the praise of the beverage. “You should taste, and—"

"I can't drink on the job, Harissen-san,” Inoichi interrupted him. “What is it made from, anyway?"

"Honey, of course!"

"Honey? Harissen-san, I never heard of a liquor made of honey."

A sudden silence fell on the room, the noise of ingredients being grinded, mixed or otherwise processed ceasing all of sudden. Inoichi wasn't sure why he glanced up at first, but then he realized that it was because the magelings had gone absolutely still and wide-eyed. As had Conrad.

He couldn't help but look at the man's haunted expression. It was like looking at a veteran sporting the mile-wide stare, a child who had been robbed of his candies, and a kicked dog all rolled in one.

"Conrad-sensei...?" Ta'Sava called all of sudden in a worried tone.

"No now, Ta'Sava,” the desperate man replying with an empty voice. “Please."

"Conrad-sensei!" the Khajiit repeated, exchanging glances between his teacher and his tools.

"What?!?" Conrad yelled at the top of his lungs, much like someone who had been disturbed during a mourning.

"Is it normal?" the young Khajiit asked, indicating the thick purple smoke that was emanating from his alambic.

Inoichi almost grabbed Conrad as the man suddenly ran towards the other end of the small room, but when he realized that he had an arm stretched towards the appliance, the man’s words about unexpected reactions came back to mind and he quickly grabbed Beta and Sven’s collar sleeves and forced them to step back from the table.

Conrad only managed to pull Ta’Sava away before the alambic exploded.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

The man kept looking outside of the window which offered a good view of the village he had grown in. If in his heart he felt any nostalgia for those simpler times, he didn't show it. And even if he had felt it, he would've squashed it under his hate.

He looked away, and placed the large hat, so similar to the one he had once desired, on the desk besides him. The hotel suite wasn't incredibly large but it was considered fancy enough for a honored guest as him.

Well, at least for the man whose identity he'd stolen.

“You fool,” he said without looking back towards the door. “Do you know how risky it is to meet as our plans are already in motion?”

“I am very aware, ‘Kazekage-dono’,” his spy’s voice replied, a sort of dark sarcasm filling the last words.

“Why are you here then?” Orochimaru asked, turning towards his apprentice and best agent.

“I came across some information that you may want to hear,” the bespectacled shinobi said with a smirk.

“If you mean the identity of the Iwa team’s kunoichi, I am well aware of that. Even then, you should’ve given it to your contact among my forces,” the fallen Sannin said in a hard tone, not breaking his character in case one of the Suna shinobi that were guarding the area reserved for ‘his’ entourage decided to eavesdrop. “Coming straight to me was unwise.”

“Aah, as expected of Kazekage-dono,” Kabuto said, but Orochimaru could tell that he had not expected that at all. “Should I refer to my master what are your intentions, then?”

Which was a way to ask for specific orders, of course. Orochimaru looked again outside of the window. In a matter of days, Konoha’s peaceful streets would be filled with shinobi clashing against each other, the screams of the wounded and the bodies of the fallen, and the Ichibi rampaging through its buildings. This thought pleased him, and a creepy grin spread through his burrowed face.

The invasion's objective was simple. Kill Sarutobi and cause as much damage as possible to the village's shinobi forces and infrastructures. One didn’t just conquer a shinobi village: too many problems between the nation’s regular military or the guerrilla tactics that the surviving inhabitants could employ. You destroyed villages instead, forcing the nation to ask for the shinobi’s specialized services from outside of its own borders.

The perspective of prosperity for his own village had been the selling point when it had come to seal the deal and convince the Kazekage to agree to this bold plan… before killing him, of course.

A plan though, no matter how good, never survived first contact with the enemy. Especially such a large-scale one. Sarutobi taught him that, and he had seen how true that was.

The invasion was a risky move and it could fail. Only a fool would think otherwise. Too many key elements were out of his control, especially their trump card, Suna's jinchuuriki.

The boy was not stable, and even his sensei had seemed unable to keep him in check lately. The Kazekage, the real one, had been a fool to not fix the problem. Not that he had not tried, from what he had heard, but the man's attempts against his own son's life had been sloppy and inefficient, at best.

And during the last month, he'd heard worrying rumors of Jiraiya's return. To train the son of his former pupil, the sentimental fool!

He was still a potentially dangerous opponent, and a very valuable asset to Konoha's forces.

The result of the invasion could be less certain than his followers and the Suna-nin thought. Should the Leaf survive the assault, though... the girl, the Tsuchikage's granddaughter, could be a valuable pawn.

After all, accidents happened during a battle. Nobody would know who had thrown the kunai, and Iwa would never believe Konoha's innocence. And then they would finish off the weakened village.

All in all, a good contingency plan. No matter what, Konoha would fall.

"I will send a word to you," Orochimaru said without looking back at his spy. "Now, begone!"

"Wouldn't you want to know why Iwa is showing such an interest into Konoha right now, though?" Kabuto said with a sly smile. "I found something interesting while browsing the more recent hospital archives. The highly secured ones."

Orochimaru turned back towards his minion, slightly arching an eyebrow. Kabuto was being insolent, but he probably had a reason to.

Without saying a word. the double-agent took a scroll out of his pouch and passed it to his master. The snake wearing the Kazekage’s skin opened it, and for a long time there was absolute silence in the room.

Then, a single word escaped Orochimaru’s mouth, carrying as much venom as he could.

“... Namikaze…”

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Wake up.

He is close. Wake up!

Conrad stirred, disturbed by the words resounding in his dream. Opening his eyes, he saw an unknown white ceiling above him.

Still half-asleep and aching, he realized how much he distrusted Akavir. Since he had arrived in this gods-forsaken lands, he had been knocked out way more times than he felt he deserved.

“Hey, he’s awake!” a voice exclaimed in Cyrodilic. Conrad heard the sounds of feet getting closer to his bed, because of course he was on a bed. Raising his head, he saw the magelings standing around him, their expressions a mix of relief and worry.

“Welcome back, Master,” Beta said, offering him a glass of water.

“Where am I?” he asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before accepting it.

“It’s some big building where they heal people, but it doesn’t look like a temple to me,” Sven explained. “They have a lot of weird things here, way weirder than those light-orbs they use.”

“Ta’Sava is sorry for what happened, Master!” the Khajiit apologized, his ears turned back. “Ta’Sava didn’t realize that he had put the wrong reagent in the boiling solution! It’s Ta’Sava’s fault if—”

“Are you three alright?” he questioned, interrupting his feline student. At this, the three kids exchanged a few confused glances.

“Uh, yes we are fine, Master,” Beta replied. “The explosion wasn’t very big—”

“Ta’Sava got a bit singed, but it’s fine because it’s Ta’Sava’s fault so—”

“—and even our guards and Inoichi were left unscathed.”

“Good,” Conrad said tersely, finally drinking the water. “How long was I out?”

“A couple of days,” Sven said. “We—well, the guards—took you to this place, and tried to interrogate us—”

“They did what?” Conrad demanded.

“They just asked a few questions, they didn’t understand that it was an accident, Master. At first, at least.”

“We cleared it, though,” Beta added, snatching the now empty glass.

“Of course you did, otherwise we would be back in the dungeons,” Conrad muttered, slowly sitting up on the bed. The kids didn’t reply to that, glancing to each other nervously. “What is it? Did I get injured badly? Is the mead safe?!” the Nord asked in a hurry, as he remembered the important stuff.

“No, no no!” Beta hurriedly said. “The mead is safe, back at our shed. And you didn’t lose any… important bits. Don’t worry Master!”

“Yeah, the healers here did a very good job. The potions we prepared, too,” Sven explained, although he seemed half-way ready to take a step back from the bed.

“And Beta helped, too,” Ta’Sava added for a good measure with a nervous grin. “Master Conrad didn’t even get new scars. Only the ones he already has!”

“Then why are you—” Conrad started, stopping to talk as he massaged his aching jaw.

His shaved jaw.

“The healers had to trim it to heal your burns!” Beta quickly started to talk. “And half of it was gone anyway—”

“Because of the explosion,” Sven added, for a matter of precision.

“Ta’Sava is sorry, Master Conrad! It was an accident!”

“—but it will grow back!” Beta continued, ignoring her fellow apprentices. “I mean, I think it will… the wounds healed completely though! Isn’t that something to be happy of?”

Sadly for the Nord girl, Conrad was not listening to her or her companions. At all. He was more focused on trying to take deep, calming breaths. And failing as the rage inside him kept getting closer to the breaking point. Not only had he been captured, imprisoned, interrogated, humiliated, probed, and confined for a month in a hut.

But in his most recent memory, he had also found out that he was stuck in a mead-less land and he’d lost his beard to boot!

Before he knew it, he was on his feet, gritting his teeth and a feral growl threatening to escape his throat. He passed by his students and went straight towards the room’s door, ignoring the weird furniture entirely.

He needed fresh air. Or to punch something.

Rue the foolish soul that would try to stop him.

:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:x:

Naruto and Shikamaru bid farewell to Lee’s eccentric sensei and quietly left the hospital room. They had waited a bit—alright, a lot—before leaving just to be sure that the creepy Suna genin would actually leave, instead of ambushing them just outside the door.

Both the boys were still shaken by the tale of the redhaired teen’s life, especially Naruto since it was way too similar to his own for comfort. A part of him couldn’t help but wonder if he could’ve gone the same way had he not met Iruka-sensei or his teammates, and the rest of him was scared shitless at the idea of facing someone like Gaara during the tournament.

How did you fight someone with such techniques and powers who claimed to exist only to kill others?

“If it hadn’t been for bushy-brows-sensei…” he started, not looking Shikamaru in the eyes.

“Yeah…” Shikamaru mumbled in agreement, even if Naruto were stating the obvious.

"So, Shikamaru... you're gonna see Chouji now, right?" he asked, trying to change topic.

"Yeah. Want to come?"

"No, I think that I'll go straight home. You know..."

"Yeah," the Nara simply shrugged. “See you tomorrow then.”

“Sure,” Naruto said, waving goodbye as he started to walk towards the staircase at the end of the hallway. The blond knew that he was in a tricky situation, to use an eup… an anal… to put it simply! He wanted to punch Neji’s stupid face and win, but doing so he would risk fighting Gaara who wouldn’t think twice before killing him.

That was, of course, if Gaara won against Sasuke.

What if Sasuke was killed by Gaara, though?! No, no, there was no way that he would die. He had been trained for a month by Kakashi-sensei after all and he had the whole ‘vengeance’ thing to do, he wouldn’t let himself be killed before that.

Maybe he was worrying himself for nothing. He had been training for a month too, after all! Sure, Ero-Sennin wasn’t as cool as Kakashi-sensei but he was supposed to be a powerful Shinobi and stuff—he was surely more perverted than Kakashi-sensei. And he had taught him… how to… summon… toads…

Naruto groaned, considering how little help a small amp… amphi… a toad would be during a fight. Unless he summoned the boss toad, Gamabunta. A giant toad surely sounded helpful in a fight… too bad that said giant toad didn’t like it that much, considering what had happened after he had summoned him. What kind of impression would he give to the tournament judges if it happened again?

He was half-way on the stairwell when he heard a commotion and some muffled shouts coming from the floor above him. Strangely enough, they didn’t seem to quiet down, they were actually becoming louder. Didn’t they know that this was a hospital? Even he knew better than to piss off the doctors like this...

It wasn’t his business though and surely the nurses would stop whoever was yelling so much, but before he took another step there was a loud crash, along with the sound of broken glass.

“That’s it!” he exclaimed, turning around and storming up the stairwell to the next floor, determined to find the source of the commotion. It didn’t matter who it was, he was going to chew out whoever was the responsible. There were actual sick people in this place!

When he finally reached the floor where all the noise was coming from, he was able to hear the yells a bit clearer from the half-closed door.

“Please sir, just...just calm down, there are patients who need to rest,” a woman, probably a doctor or a nurse said from beyond the door. “If you force me to, I will have to—”

“I no understand half you say!” another voice yelled—so this was the guy that was causing all this mess! Naruto got closer to the door, starting to roll up his sleeves. “WHERE EXIT?!”

“Restrain him!” someone else shouted. Naruto bolted towards the door, startled by the sudden sound of a brawl and even more shouting. He grabbed the handle—

“FUS!”

The door opened, pushed almost out off its hinges by a shockwave-like explosion and Naruto found himself hitting the stairwell’s railing and slumping on the ground, breathless from the impact. Someone else, one of the masked guys that always seemed to hang around the Hokage, landed beside him, managing somehow to roll on his feet even if completely unbalanced.

The masked shinobi tried to get up but another figure darted out of the door, punching him so hard that his white mask shattered in dozens of fragments. The now maskless Shinobi fell on the ground, unmoving, and his attacker roared in satisfaction.

It wasn’t a sound that would be associated to a human’s throat.

Naruto had to suppress a shiver as the tall man—although not as tall as Ero-Sennin—turned towards him, revealing a pair of slitted eyes. Although these were blue, they reminded the young genin way too much of Orochimaru.

As their eyes met, the man seemed to freeze on his spot. Naruto couldn’t swear that he was even breathing. He noticed the other details of the man’s face, like the blond hair, the scarred face, the wrinkles starting to show up around the eyes, but found himself unable to look away from those slitted pupils.

Naruto was halfway moving his hand towards his kunai holster, when the stranger’s face seemed to morph all of sudden. Gone was the feral frown, replaced with a confused look. The eyes were changing too, the pupil becoming rounder, until they became more similar to a normal eye, not very different from his own besides the look of surprise and shock in them.

The man opened his mouth a couple of times, but no sound was coming from it, as if he was at a loss of words.

“Naruto… ?” he finally said, looking strangely surprised by the word that had escaped from his lips.

“Wha-How do you know my name, old man?! Who are you?!”