Sown

forty-two

[As you can tell, I am not a combat writer]

-

The longer the night progressed the more attacks were reported. Intelligence HQ had become inundated with a steady flow of information on the clones murdering shinobi both asleep and awake. Troops were being picked off and those who survived were on edge of being the next victim. The fifth division's own report had reached Shikaku Nara quite early, but as they were the smallest group of soldiers it had been falsely concluded that they were being picked off for that fact alone. Worry grew when the medical teams began to fall victim.

Everyone scrambled for a solution, caught between tossing questions and accusations at their fellow shinobi and samurai that they nearly became their own worst enemy. Despite being the first to be preyed upon, the honjin made it through relatively unscathed ; Hanae's warning had prepared them for the worst, and those attacks that did come were well prepared for. Despite not having a strong sensor type among them - not that it would have mattered against the strong transformation style technique - the simple act of keeping eyes on one another and overlapping rotating shifts had kept them safe. Some liked to think that the Zetsu head speared atop a sprout of bone helped to keep them safe as well.

The few attacks that did come through had not been enough of a threat to alert the kumigashira, and as such Hanae received her full night's rest of just under four hours. Despite this, she did not wake well. Tatsui had offered himself as a pillow as she had done for him but when she returned to waking consciousness her first reaction was to clutch her stomach.

The best way to describe the feeling was uncomfortable - weight pressed into the pit of her stomach, so much so that it made Hanae nauseous. She forced herself to swallow the bile rising beneath her tongue, fighting against the contractions of her stomach and esophagus until her digestive tract relented to her pushback. Having never experienced waking sickness before, the young woman prayed that this wouldn't become a regular occurrence, hoping that it was only unease of being so far away from her loved one.

Hanae wondered how Kakashi was doing. According to Mifune's map the Third Division should still be somewhere near the Land of Hot Water, only a few miles away from where her group stood now in the Land of Frost. She hoped her father was treating him well, very much understanding that he was Kakashi's subordinate but knowing the two enough that her lover was treating her father with respect, not only for their age difference but for that fact that the Umu head was indeed her father and elite among the samurai forces. He's probably trying to win his favor, she thought wistfully, accepting Tatsui's aid in rasing to her feet.

But there had been next to no reports on how the other divisions were doing, and that gave her reason enough to worry. Was he actually okay? Had his division been ambushed in the night? The thought of violence brought another wave of sickness rising rapidly in her throat. Hanae excused herself hurriedly from her brother to find an isolated shrub to empty her stomach into, catching a glimpse of mostly digested rice through tear-blurred eyes. Tatsui, not wanting to disobey the order of staying at least two deep, smacked her back through her thick armor.

"Nee-san," he didn't say much else, wanting to tell her to go to the medical aide division but knowing that it was probably the most dangerous place to be now.

"I'm fine, Tatsui. It's nerves. I've been retired for years, this whole suddenly coming back to duty thing is just messing with me." The woman wiped the bile from her bottom lip and pushed the younger Umu towards the center of the clearing where everyone had begun to gather. "Go and eat something, I'll be fine." She caught his gaze briefly, worried expression shown her way for the nth time the past few days. "Please."

-

No one was surprised when Kimimaro and Chiyo returned. If anything, the two hadn't let them be surprised. The morning rotation was thinning out the ways of stragglers trying to break into the clearing that had become the Fifth Division's new stronghold. Those in the center stood upright and ready to assist, thus when an old woman's voice yelling out "behind" broke through the air the sound was only overpowered by the metallic rasp of hundreds of swords being drawn.

A handful were impaled by the bone erupting through the soil, others scratched, and more pitched in any which way direction to avoid them. Hanae found herself riding the length of one such growth with the flat of her wakizashi, bone shavings dusting the air before her mask.

"Kimimaro!" She called out in any direction her voice could reach. A resounding call of her name answered from not far away, the owner of said voice stepping in from the tree line moments later. "I'm happy to see you again." It was a strange bit of honesty, one that earned her a scoff or two. The solemn yet gentle face of the resurrected eased into a fraction of a smile.

"I should have told you this yesterday," He continued, arms crossing and erupting in macabre spines of ivory. "But suiton users would be the most effective against me. I cannot control my body, but I have more control of my mind than I did the day before. I apologize again for what I am about to do."

And with that the bloody fight continued for an afternoon longer. More men fell, a pain to Hanae's heart, but she carried on, ignoring the burning in her stomach. Sweat began to build across her forehead, and her knees wavered just enough to lose strength. The woman began to fall, watching the steadily approaching earth begin to split just as quickly as she fell. It was bone, she knew it was. If she didn't regain her footing, it would find a path through her skull right between her eyes.

In a manner of almost acceptance, Hanae closed her eyes, catching the faint shout that followed her collapse. Tatsui would be so sad. Their mother and father would mourn, there was no doubt. And Kakashi. Lord, what would he do? There would probably be more as well, the friends she had made and the people she made smile. What would her grave look like? She hoped it would bloom with flowers, her death bearing a new life for others to appreciate the beauty of.

This is taking longer than it should.

Hanae only reopened her eyes when she realized she wasn't falling anymore, when she realized an arm had wrapped itself around her chest, when the voice she heard turned from fear to bewilderment. When she realized the voice she heard wasn't her brother's, or her men's, or anyone she wasn't all too familiar with.

Even through the red tint of her goggles the yellow glow in front of her face was a bit jarring. Whatever strength held the woman righted her and put her back on her feet, keeping one arm supporting her side. She turned to catch the face of Naruto, albeit different, facing away from her. "Naruto," she gasped, placing the ball of her palm against his chest, careful to keep the blade of her sword pointed away from his face.

His eyes, no longer blue, glanced in her direction, a shining gold eyebrow raising. Hanae hurriedly lifted her helmet from her head and revealed her face to him.

"Oh," he quipped, "you're the lady I saw with everyone in the Land of Iron." The teenager relinquished his hold when she pushed against his figure, finally sure of her footing. He was unreasonably warm, his chakra resonating strongly through her palm.

"Kakashi would be so proud to see you now."

"I'm with Kakashi sensei right now!" His smile was both unfitting and reassuring. Hanae understood loosely that this must be a clone as she had learned from Sai. "I'm here to back everyone up. I've decided to fight this battle with quality over quantity. It's going to be different than it was last time, Kimimaro!"

The two smiled, Chiyo moving the puppeteering body of a fallen samurai so it no longer obstructed her view of the jinchuriki.

"Seeing you makes me realize that time truly has passed," Kimimaro murmured.

"It would appear that his height wasn't the only thing that has grown either . . . "