Meanwhile, the meeting room was tense from the very beginning.
Fugaku had entered it already suspicious. Bracing himself for accusations against his clan, even with Shikaku's earlier assurances of a common enemy.
He certainly hadn't expected that Shikaku had brought him in to deal with Danzo.
The moment that became clear, something dark and fierce had settled in Fugaku's chest.
Vindication.
Because Danzo had been trying to bring his clan to ruin since even before the Nine-Tails attack. Fugaku had known it in his bones for years, even when proof slipped through his fingers every time he tried to pin the man down.
To hear the growing catalogue of horrors that the man was responsible for made bile rise hot in his throat.
He had sent reports to the Hokage.
Of course he had.
Reports on missing children. Reports on suspicious disappearances. Reports on deaths that felt wrong in their timing or too convenient in their aftermath. He had sent some to Shikaku too, when the man became Jounin Commander, hoping perhaps that another strategist's eye would see what his had.
Nothing ever came of any of it. There was just no proof.
It was as if the children had vanished into thin air.
Witnesses had died in mysterious accidents. Shinobi had gone missing on sudden skirmishes. Files had gone incomplete. Trails ended abruptly.
And without proof, the Hokage would never take his word over Danzo's.
Evidently, the people in this room believed the same.
Everyone shared what they had.
Tsunade's revelation, in particular, was eye-opening in a way that made Fugaku's stomach turn.
A nephew.
A Senju child created after Nawaki's death.
Created by Orochimaru at Danzo's request.
Line theft.
Body desecration.
Experimentation.
His Sharingan had threatened to pulse into place from sheer rage as his mind went, unbidden, to every missing Uchiha body that had never been recovered for burial. Wondering if the same fate had fallen to them.
The only consolation, slim as it was, came from Tsunade's cold summary of Orochimaru's words months ago—that Orochimaru and Danzo were no longer allies.
Kakashi had gone tight and tense the moment the true purpose of the meeting became clear. His visible eye hardened, his shoulders coiling beneath his vest.
And when Tsunade aired out Tenzo's history, too bluntly, in Fugaku's opinion, though necessary, Kakashi snapped at her.
The argument that followed was brief, sharp, and ugly.
"You shouldn't be telling everyone Tenzo's past!" Kakashi said, voice cutting.
Tsunade rounded on him at once. "I already talked to him about it! Don't I get to be angry that my nephew was grown in a lab from my brother's dead body?"
"I said that's not up to—"
"Be quiet brat! Tenzo knows were investigating Danzo, we need all the information we can ger!" Tsunade snapped.
It was Chouza, surprisingly, who eased the tension.
"Enough," he said quietly. "We're all angry. We don't need to start tearing into each other too. This isn't why were here."
Shikaku used the moment to silently reach into the storage seal tucked behind his ear and bring out a scroll. He laid it flat on the table and sent a pulse of chakra into it.
Files spilled out in stacks.
Documents. Reports. Notes. Timelines. Fragments of evidence built over months and months of quiet digging.
Fugaku felt a grim sort of respect twist through him.
Kakashi, after a long silence, eventually began talking too.
He told them what he knew about Root.
About the seals on the operatives' tongues, designed to silence them and paralyse them if they tried to reveal certain truths.
About how he had left the organisation before his final initiation.
About bringing Tenzo into the real ANBU afterwards with the Hokage's backing.
That, predictably, set Tsunade off again.
"You mean to tell me Sensei knew Root was still active six years ago?" she demanded. "He knew Danzo still had his child army and did nothing?"
Kakashi scowled beneath his mask. "I never said that."
"Where's their headquarters?" Shikaku asked, taking over the conversation.
"I reported directly to Danzo in his home office," Kakashi said reluctantly. "I never went to the main base, but I followed an operative once. There's a sealed entrance in the mountains. Tenzo has hinted to it being underground. That's all I know."
He folded his arms after that, jaw tight.
Then, more quietly and with unmistakable stubbornness, he added. "Tenzo shouldn't be involved in this. The seal paralyses and chokes him anytime he tries to reveal anything. There's nothing he can say that will help you."
Shikaku interlaced his fingers below his chin in thought.
When he finally answered, his tone was level.
"Tenzo is a shinobi," he said. "And by all accounts an intelligent one. Smart enough to work around his wording if he wants to avoid triggering the seal."
Kakashi's eye narrowed.
"His help would be invaluable," he paused. "But I won't force him to get involved. Tsunade, I want you to read him in if he wants it."
Missing out on useful intelligence irritated him, but he wasn't foolish enough to hurt an unwilling asset to gain it.
It was bad enough that all of them had to scheme in the shadows to take Danzo down at all.
What followed after that was long.
They fought back and forth over information, shifting events and timelines into place, tracing patterns, matching disappearances to political outcomes and quiet movements to sudden policy changes.
Fugaku revealed Danzo's involvement in the aftermath of the Nine-Tails attack.
How he had ordered the Uchiha to stand down during the crisis. How suspicion had been spread not long after. How the isolation and pressure had been applied until the clan was relocated to the outskirts of the village like a disease.
Inoichi leaned forward first. "We were against the relocation," he said, quiet but firm. "All of us voted against it."
Chouza nodded in agreement.
Fugaku was silent for a moment before inclining his head once. "I recall," he conceded. "But the outcome remained."
Kakashi, admitted in a voice so flat it almost sounded detached. "Danzo approached me after the attack. He convinced me the Hokage was at fault for Sens— for everything that happened."
Shikaku hummed, not surprised in the slightest. "He worked fast, then. Spread discontent while everyone was still raw from it."
Tsunade snorted. "I'm surprised he didn't just kill Sensei and take the hat for himself."
Inoichi tilted his head, thoughtful. "It's possible he's holding onto some warped sentiment for an old friend," he said. "But I'd be more inclined to think he prefers working from the shadows. Less responsibility, more control." He tapped one finger against the table. "Though I wouldn't be surprised if he made a move for the hat soon if the Hokage goes against him too many times."
Shikaku began reorganising the papers. "I had planned on taking all this to the Hokage soon." He exhaled through his nose. "But first I need to go to Waterfall, take some testimonies and bring back a witness."
He looked toward Kakashi. "You remember when we went there and spoke to Hisen's advisor?"
Kakashi nodded. "He told us the traitor was promised sanctuary in Konoha, it's why he was so suspicious of us."
"What came of it?" Chouza asked.
Shikaku let out a frustrated huff. "Nothing. I'll admit I fucked up." His mouth tightened. "I came back to the village after discovering the circumstances of Shikamaru's kidnapping and everything else got buried under that. I failed in my duty," he said bluntly. "I should have sent someone to liaise, but I put it off."
No one interrupted him.
"I sent a scroll to Hisen to set up a meeting not too long ago. If all goes well, I'll be going to Waterfall myself to bring the prisoner back to Konoha for interrogation and Inoichi, you can read him."
He looked around the table, making sure every eye was on him before he said, "if we can prove Danzo orchestrated the attack on Waterfall then the Hokage will have to act. Starting conflict with another village without his orders is blatant treason. Not even he can ignore that."
The strategy was sound.
Everyone in the room knew it.
They wrapped the meeting up only after another long stretch of debate and note-making, finally agreeing to gather again in a week.
By the time it ended, Shikaku let out a jaw-cracking yawn and stretched his back with a grimace before gathering all the scattered papers back into the scroll and sealing it away.
He had barely finished when the meeting room door opened and Harry stepped into the room to let everyone know there was dinner waiting.
Shikaku's entire mood shifted at once.
His mouth curved into a grin he didn't bother hiding as he crossed the space between them, pulled him in close, and claimed his mouth softly.
The tension of the meeting eased off his shoulders.
When they finally parted, Harry was a little flushed and pressed another kiss to his mouth before asking, "how did it go?"
Shikaku sighed and brushed his thumbs over Harry's waist. "Slow going," he admitted.
Harry sent him a teasing frown. "I'm sure I could get rid of the problem sooner."
Shikaku smirked outright. "I don't think so. Even if your viciousness is very sexy."
That made Harry blush and open his mouth to retort, only for Tsunade to sweep in like a natural disaster and pull him into a headlock.
"Tsunade, let me go!" Harry laughed breathlessly as she dragged him away, protesting weakly while she called him dramatic.
He still found time to send one soft, sweet smile back at Shikaku.
Shikaku could only stand there alone and watch him leave the room feeling completely smitten.
Well.
Nearly alone.
Inoichi remained at his side, practically cooing. "You two are disgusting," he said fondly. "Truly. Revoltingly sweet."
Shikaku rolled his eyes.
Inoichi elbowed him lightly. "So," he said, voice dropping with the unmistakable gleam of someone about to meddle. "When are you going to make it official if you want to keep it that way?"
Shikaku let out a lazy smirk.
Then, very deliberately, he let his fingers drift over the slight bulge that had been resting in his pocket for days now.
Shikaku pulled it out.
A small box.
"Is that—" Inoichi breathed. "Shikaku, is that what I think it is?"
Shikaku opened the box.
Nestled inside was a ring.
Inoichi looked like he was about to either faint or climb Shikaku like a tree in excitement.
"I had it made a week ago," Shikaku said. "Asked Sirius to put some of those magic protection seals on it for me."
Inoichi made a noise that was far too close to a squeal for Shikaku's comfort and snatched the ring from the box before he could stop him.
"When are you going to ask him?!" he demanded.
Shikaku immediately snatched it back.
"Tomorrow night," he said. "After he finishes his civilian council meeting. I'm taking him to our spot in the Nara forest."
Inoichi clutched his chest in dramatic agony.
"That is disgustingly romantic."
Shikaku sighed in exasperation and closed the box again. But when Inoichi only stared at him for more details, he relented enough to add, "I forged it myself."
That startled Inoichi into real stillness.
"You forged it? In the blacksmith's?" he asked in disbelief.
Shikaku nodded once.
Then, more quietly than he'd meant to, he asked. "Do you think he'll like it?"
Inoichi's expression softened instantly.
"Shikaku," he teased, like the answer should have been obvious. "Hari would accept a ring made of ninja wire if you were the one giving it to him."
Shikaku snorted softly but relaxed.
He didn't tell Inoichi that he had melted down his lucky kunai, the one he'd had since graduation, to make the ring.
How much it meant to take something that had represented his survival, his hardships, his suffering and turn it into something else entirely.
Something for Harry.
Because his sweetheart would understand what it meant without needing it explained.
He would understand the importance of it.
And frankly, Inoichi's squeals were already deafening enough without giving him more ammunition.
Still, once the laughter and teasing died down, Shikaku couldn't help but grip the box a little tighter as nerves slid back in under his skin.
Tomorrow night.
He reminded himself.
Tomorrow night, I'll ask Hari to marry me.
And if the kami were listening to his prayers, his troublesome, beautiful sweetheart would say yes.
~
Harry knew Shikaku was up to something.
He didn't know what, but the man had been wound tight since he woke that morning. There had been a subtle, anticipatory edge that left Shikaku near fidgeting all morning.
It could have been about the meeting yesterday, Harry supposed.
But after they had all shared dinner in the main house, Shikaku had left that business at the door, so to speak and spent the night his usual self.
No, whatever had him on edge today wasn't yesterday's meeting.
Or maybe, he thought with a little flush, maybe it was because it was date night tonight.
The thought alone sent a warm little thrill through him.
Maybe Shikaku had something romantic planned.
Maybe now that the cat was well and truly out of the bag with Fugaku, he'd want to eat out somewhere and let the whole village know about their relationship.
Harry rather hoped not.
He much preferred the private little picnics in their forest, or those moonlit rooftop dinners. It was bad enough he couldn't even eat somewhere in the village with his sons without someone stopping him or sending their children over to pester him for a chance to ride the dragons.
Honestly, if he'd known what a big deal dragons were going to be in this new world, he would have obliviated the whole bloody Fire Capital after Nox's first appearance and gone on his merry way.
"Are we boring you, Ryūjin-sama?"
The voice cut cleanly through his thoughts.
Harry blinked once, then turned his head and found Danzo looking at him from across the room, one visible eye narrowed.
Pretending he hadn't been lost in thought at all, Harry sent the man a falsely sweet smile.
"Not at all, Danzo-sama," he said smoothly. "I was merely wondering why Yamaoka-san has decided to once again broach the topic of his failed bill regarding the Kuro and Aka districts." His smile sharpened just a touch. "It was my understanding that bills such as these need to be petitioned in the full council chambers, and not in a single civilian meeting?"
There was a ripple of agreement around the room at that.
The civilian council was smaller than the full assembly but no less political for it. Today's gathering held the ten civilian representatives, Harry in his odd dual role, the Hokage, his advisors and Danzo at their own desks.
Yamaoka puffed up in indignation.
"The bill wouldn't have failed if you hadn't voted against it!" He sputtered.
Harry turned a pitying smile on him.
"Was it not my vote that merely brought it to a tie?" he asked. "I believe the Hokage cast the deciding vote in that matter."
A few quiet titters followed that.
Harry didn't let the man recover before he continued, voice velvet-soft.
"Regardless, the small council is not the place to continue building support for your bill. Especially considering you hadn't placed it on the agenda for today." He tilted his head looking at the small list in front of him. "I'm sure Ryota-san would be highly disappointed if his own concerns were pushed aside for a bill that can't even be re-voted on for another six months."
This time the amusement in the room was harder to hide.
Yamaoka's face mottled red.
"What would you know about it," he snapped, "you're just a foreigner—"
"Yamaoka-san!"
The Hokage's voice cut across the chamber with enough authority to silence him at once.
Hiruzen fixed the man with a severe look over the stem of his pipe. "I will remind you to keep your temper, and your insults, to yourself."
Yamaoka flushed all the way to his ears and sat back with a resentful glare fixed on Harry.
Harry only smiled at him pleasantly.
Honestly, politics was the same in any world.
Always some petty little men grasping for power with both hands and blaming everyone else when they lost it.
Well.
He had always enjoyed putting Wizengamot members in their places, here is no different.
Most of the room looked relieved to see Yamaoka silenced.
Hiruzen gave one thoughtful puff of his pipe, then nodded toward the healthcare representative.
"Ryota-san," he said. "You're last on the agenda."
"Thank you, Hokage-sama." The man inclined his head respectfully.
He glanced briefly toward Harry before beginning.
"We were all sceptical about Ryūjin-sama's protections working as promised," he said without preamble. "However, many civilians who have had to go for emergency treatment in the hospital have now witnessed first-hand how effective they are when they saw a hysterical ninja freeze midair and be taken safely away for treatment."
A low murmur of agreement moved through a few seats.
Ryota continued, "Many of the patients who also frequent the village clinics have since expressed a desire for similar protections over the civilian healing clinics. I came here today to ask if Ryūjin-sama would consider offering his aid."
He bowed his head toward Harry at the end of it.
Harry blinked, genuinely surprised but before he could answer, another voice spoke up.
The head of Education straightened her spine and added with surprising firmness, "The civilian academy would also like to request the same."
That made Harry turn fully toward her.
"I think the council has forgotten how many times we've been endangered in shinobi skirmishes, or by attempted kidnappings of the more influential children. I don't think it is fair that the shinobi get protection and the civilians are left to fend for themselves." She said coolly.
There was more than one sound of agreement then.
Harry sat back in his seat and considered the room.
He understood the fear behind the request. Truly, he did. Civilian teachers and healers weren't wrong to want safety for their own people, and if he had been anyone else, perhaps their appeals would have softened him more easily.
But he had seen how quickly "just one more thing" turned into entitlement. In every world, in every government, in every body of power there were always those who looked at generosity and thought yes, I want more.
"I understand your fears," he said at last, voice calm and even. "Truly. However, when I offered my boon to the village, that was as far as it extended."
Mei frowned slightly, but Harry continued before she could object.
"You say the ninja have been prioritised, and to an extent I would agree. But I made that decision after reading the reports regarding attacks on the academy and hospital." He lifted one shoulder. "You say that it's only the shinobi forces getting protection, but are the hospital and evacuation tunnels not open to both ninja and civilian alike?"
Mei hesitated, then reluctantly inclined her head. "They are."
Harry nodded once.
"You have to understand," he said, "that while I would like to help everyone I can, I am only one man. I have used my own resources, power, and time to create the wards over those locations, and my supplies are limited."
"We can surely arrange for more to be delivered," one of the other representatives argued at once.
Harry turned toward the speaker with the faintest raise of a brow.
"If it were that easy, I would agree," he said. "However, the wards I placed on the hospital and tunnels so far aren't applied in the same way as seals. They require a special stone to ground them if they are to remain long-lasting. And I've already begun the seal application on the stone for the academy."
That hushed the room a little, and Harry decided he needed to bullshit a little more.
"Those stones come from my homeland, only my homeland. The journey to the elemental nations was perilous enough, it would be foolish to attempt the journey across the seas again. And I refuse to leave my son and clan behind for months, possibly years, in order to retrieve more. And I'm sure no one would volunteer to attempt the journey themselves."
That was true enough.
He had no intention of telling them that he could get Grimbok to send him more by letterbox if he truly wished. Or that he still had several in the Keep vaults.
Maybe he should have felt guilty about refusing them.
But he didn't.
He wasn't about to let himself become Konoha's little magical protector on demand and for free no less.
First it would be the clinics. Then the civilian academy. Then the parks. Then private homes.
No, he absolutely refused to let himself be used like that, he would never see his family again if he agreed.
Besides, warding the tunnels had taxed him enough that even now, days later, he still felt a strange exhaustion sitting under his skin. He still had to ward the academy before Shikamaru started in April, and he'd begun to suspect that the ambient chakra was beginning to fight against his magic.
It was only a theory, he didn't know nearly enough about the energy to know if it was true. But it would definitely explain why he'd been so exhausted lately.
Yamaoka, clearly in a mood to test Harry's patience today, couldn't help himself.
"But Ryūjin-sama," he said with smug false innocence, "we all heard you offer your services to the Uchiha."
Harry slowly turned his head toward him.
"I did," he said pleasantly. "Because the protections offered to the police station don't require a wardstone and will not last a lifetime." He leaned back slightly. "If the clinics or civilian academy would like to discuss alternative protections, then they may write a formal request and send it to my clan. We will look it over, and if we accept, we can discuss payment."
That didn't go over well.
Harry could tell that much instantly from the stiffening posture around the room.
They disliked the mention of payment.
How shocking.
"I will, of course, retain the right to refuse the service. But should the Ryūjin clan accept the request, then any of the protections will be temporary, lasting no longer than a couple of years." His eyes swept the room coolly. "That is all I will say on the matter."
They started protesting immediately.
"Silence! It is not one clan's duty to provide protection for the whole village," Hiruzen said mildly, a reprimand in his tone. "Ryūjin-sama has offered much freely already. If his clan wishes to begin business, then it is their right to give it freely or demand payment for their services. That is not for this council to dictate."
He turned his attention back to Ryota. "Was that all you wished to request, Ryota-san?"
The man looked a little put out, but he bowed his head. "Yes, Hokage-sama."
Harry softened his tone then, not wanting to alienate the few good members who weren't in Danzo's pocket.
"This is not me refusing you fully," he said, looking between Ryota and Mei both. "But I cannot and will not offer them freely and without reservation. If you still wish for them, then send a proposal to my clan and we can discuss it privately."
The stubborn offence faded from Ryota's and Mei's expressions. They exchanged a look and both inclined their heads.
"We will consider it," Mei said at last.
From the edge of his vision Harry caught Danzo and Yamaoka both losing their smug posture in tandem.
"If that is all for today," the Hokage said, tapping ash from his pipe, "then I will consider this meeting closed."
Harry nearly sagged in relief.
He hid it by sitting back more slowly and rubbing at the bottom of his back. He felt strangely stiff, and more tired than he ought to after a relatively short council session.
Harry made small talk with a few of the kinder council members as they filtered out.
Morimoto Kenji, the representative of the Youth Outreach, was especially eager to speak with him.
Far too eager, in fact.
The man had that bright, earnest expression of someone who had decided Harry was the best thing to happen to the village for decades.
"Ryūjin-sama, if I may just have a moment more—"
"Your contribution to the academy discussion was truly inspiring—"
"I have been thinking, perhaps with your perspective as both clan head and parent—"
Harry wanted to groan aloud at the look of hero-worship on the man's face.
He only escaped by pretending he needed the bathroom, even then Morimoto looked ready to follow him in and continue the conversation if Harry hadn't of closed the door in his face with a hasty goodbye.
He went to the sink and washed his hands to waste a couple of minutes.
Then, all at once, nausea rolled through him hard enough to make him brace both hands on the sink as he gagged.
He took a slow breath.
Then another.
"Ugh," he muttered under his breath. "What's wrong with me?"
He thought the purging potion had dealt with whatever miserable bug he had caught off Shino days ago.
And now the nausea was back.
He reminded himslef to cast the diagnostic charm when he got home. Hearing the door creak open, he straightened, bemoaning the thought of Morimoto following him in after all.
Only to freeze when he turned and saw Danzo step inside, the door clicking shut behind him.
Harry's whole body tensed.
"Ryūjin," Danzo said, voice oily. "What a surprise to see you still here."
Harry turned from the sink with deliberate slowness.
"Yes," he drawled, hiding hid unease. "I'm sure it is. If you'll excuse me."
He moved to walk past him, and a gnarled hand caught his arm.
Every muscle in Harry's body locked.
He had to rein himself in so he didn't blast the old man across the room and then slit his throat while he was down. The last thing he needed to do was cover up a murder today, no matter how satisfying.
"I believe we may have gotten off to a terrible start," Danzo said, as though hadn't come into the bathroom to corner him. "You may not know this, but I have been the Hokage's advisor for many years now. I can offer you tutelage on a great many things."
Harry felt even more nauseous at the change in tactic than he had a moment ago.
Was the man trying to get on his good side?
Or just trying to get close enough to strike?
Harry let his magic spread out subtly and caught another chakra signature just clinging to the outside wall of the bathroom window.
Muted, but there.
Tensed as if ready to move at a moment's notice.
Harry tore his arm from Danzo's grip and put his back to the door to keep them both in his sight.
"I find it strange that you have been an advisor for so many years and yet don't hold any official title." He tilted his head. "Could it be that the Hokage no longer requires your services?" he said coolly.
Hatred flashed openly over Danzo's face for half a second.
There you are, Harry thought coldly.
"Thank you for the offer," Harry continued before he could answer, "but I must decline. If I have any questions, I'm quite sure I can find support elsewhere."
"Ah, yes," Danzo murmured. "I have heard of your closeness to the recently widowed Nara head."
Harry went still.
"I must say," Danzo went on, "it is truly a pity what happened to his heir. One really must be careful with who one lets close." His mouth curved faintly. "How is young Shikamaru? He will be joining the academy this year, yes? I hear you are rather close."
The subtle threat made a growl rise in his chest before he smothered it.
But he didn't manage to hide the reaction quickly enough and Danzo's smirk widened.
"It is lucky that he passed the requirements to enter the academy. It would have been a true shame if the Nara heir had been unable to ever join the shinobi forces," he continued.
Requirements?
Harry's mind snagged on the word despite the fury rising through him.
Shikaku had never mentioned requirements beyond a healthy chakra network?
Danzo smiled.
"Perhaps I could offer my tutelage to young Shikamaru instead," he said. "He was, after all, compromised when he left the village. What better way to ease off any suspicion than to train under a trusted elder?"
Harry snarled.
He couldn't help it.
His magic flared around him, enough that the air in the bathroom seemed to thicken with pressure.
"If you ever come near my so—" He caught himself a second too late. "Shikamaru or my clan, then you will find out just how far my abilities go."
Danzo looked almost pleased.
Vindicated even.
Because of course he had heard the slip.
"Be calm now," Danzo said, as if soothing a child. "After all, Shikamaru can decide for himself whether to take me up on my offer. His father will surely not object."
It took everything Harry had not to rise fully to that bait and snap the mans neck but it was a close thing.
Instead, he let his magic tighten around the man just a fraction.
Danzo choked slightly at the pressure, his eyes widening.
"Stay away," Harry said softly. "From both our clans and our children, or you will find out first hand just why the Daimyo fears me."
Then he turned to leave.
But before he did, he let himself reach, just for a second, just enough to skim the surface of Danzo's thoughts and see if there was an immediate threat aimed at Shikamaru.
He wished he hadn't.
~
Shikaku had spent the last couple of hours after work making sure everything was perfect.
The blankets had been laid out twice before he was satisfied with them. The lanterns had been adjusted and readjusted until the lighting was perfect. A basket sat to one side, already filled with their favourite food. The blanket-covered patch of ground beneath the old trees had been layered carefully, one thick quilt over another, with cushions filling the edges. Another bouquet of flowers sat on the centre of the blanket.
He stood there staring at it for a long moment, hands on his hips, then crouched down and adjusted one of the lanterns by half an inch.
Kami, he was nervous.
He couldn't remember the last time he had felt like this.
His first mission, maybe?
His chuunin exams?
Even those didn't hold a candle to this.
His fingers found the small box in his pocket for what had to be the twentieth time that hour. He pressed his palm over it, reassured himself it was still there, then let out a slow breath and vanished in a shunshin.
He appeared back at the Nara house, the familiar warmth of home hitting him at once, along with laughter and the sound of his mother's mock-angry voice.
Despite everything twisting in his stomach, he grinned.
He shrugged off his flak jacket and hung it on the hook by the door before raising his voice.
"Shikamaru! Teddy! Are you being good for grandma?"
The laughter paused.
Then came the unmistakable pounding of little feet.
A moment later Shikamaru came skidding around the corner, hair loose around his shoulders, face bright and flushed and open in a way that still sometimes hit Shikaku right in the chest.
"Dad!" the boy blurted, nearly crashing into him. "What are you doing here?!"
Shikaku caught him automatically, laughing under his breath as he steadied his son. "Well," he drawled, "I can hardly woo your mother looking like this, can I?"
Shikamaru pulled back just enough to give him a critical once-over.
His eyes moved from Shikaku's loose clothes to his hair to his boots, then he nodded all serious.
"No," he agreed solemnly. "You look dirty."
Shikaku barked out a laugh and swatted him lightly on the head. "Brat."
Shikamaru only grinned wider.
"You been good for grandma?" Shikaku asked, smoothing down his son's hair.
"Mhm!" Shikamaru said brightly. "We ate dinner, played games, and grandma says she's going to tell us a story tonight in our fort!"
Something in Shikaku's softened painfully at the picture that painted. His son, safe and loud and excited about forts and bedtime stories.
To think he could have lost all this.
To think how much he already had lost in those first six years.
He smoothed his hand down the back of Shikamaru's head and said softly, "sounds fun, kiddo. You'll have to show us in the morning."
"Da! Dada!"
Teddy came squealing around the corner in nothing but his nappy, chubby little legs pumping furiously as he ran.
His mother followed at a much less frantic pace, exasperation written plain across her face.
"Son," Saeko said, one hand on her hip, "I was mid-change when they heard you call out. His nappy vanished, Shikaku. Vanished! Then he nearly fell off the changing table trying to get to you. Do you know how hard it was to put a clean nappy on after that?"
Shikaku laughed and bent down just in time to catch Teddy before he collided with his knees. He scooped him up and pressed several small kisses to his face while the baby squirmed and giggled.
"Another act of accidental magic, hmm?" he murmured. "Your mama will be sad he missed it."
Teddy's head swivelled around immediately. "Mama?"
Shikaku chuckled and patted his back. "Mom and Dad are going out tonight, so you're staying with grandma. That okay with you, puppy?"
Teddy stared at him for a second, then pointed toward Saeko and cooed happily, "Gamma!"
"That's right," Shikaku said. "You're staying with grandma."
He looked over at his mother then and found her watching them with that same soft expression she wore so much more these days, ever since Harry and Teddy had come crashing into all their lives.
He was glad for it.
She had retreated into herself after his father died, they both had.
"You gonna be alright with the two of them?" He asked. "I could call Sirius or Barty to come help? Ensui might still be around too."
Saeko drew herself up at once, offended.
"I'm not so old that I can't take care of my own grandchildren, Shikaku!" she said sharply. "Don't insult me by calling that dog!"
He lifted his free hand in surrender. "Wouldn't dream of it!"
"Mm," she sniffed.
Shikaku only smiled faintly and pulled a grinning Shikamaru into a loose headlock. "Go get a snack for you and your brother," he ordered lightly.
Shikamaru made a show of grumbling but darted off.
He passed Teddy back to Saeko with a final kiss to his forehead and headed for his room to shower.
He scrubbed quickly, but even clean and a little calmer, the nerves came rushing right back the moment he stood in front of his wardrobe.
Shinobi gear on one side.
Formal clan head clothing on the other.
Everything was either too practical, too formal, too flashy, or too plain.
He stared at it all with growing dismay.
"What the hell am I supposed to wear when proposing to the love of my life?" he muttered in the empty room.
In the end, after far too much indecision, he pulled out a pair of dark trousers and one of his non-armoured mesh shirts.
Then his eyes landed on the green coat with the embroidered deer at the hem.
He hesitated.
Then snorted softly at himself.
What harm could there be in wearing it again? Harry had liked it the first time.
And if the mesh shirt beneath it proved a suitable distraction, well. Shikaku wasn't above using every advantage he had.
He dressed quickly, then reached for the small ring box again and tucked it carefully into his pocket.
As he stepped back into the hallway, he heard quiet babbling from Teddy's nursery.
Following it, he found the boy on the floor by the crib, surrounded by plushies, rummaging through them frantically.
"'Igel," Teddy chanted. "'Igel?"
Sighing fondly, Shikaku stepped into the room and plucked the dragon plush from where it had wedged itself between the crib bars and the wall.
"You looking for this, puppy?"
Teddy startled, then squealed with delight when he saw the plush. He grabbed it at once and hugged it fiercely to his chest.
"'Igel!" he beamed.
"C'mon," Shikaku said, scooping him up with one arm. "You shouldn't go sneaking away from grandma, pup."
He pressed a kiss to Teddy's cheek. Then, lowering his voice, he bent his head and whispered against the baby's hair, "You know... if your mama says yes tonight, I'll become your dad for real. Maybe, your mama will let me blood adopt you. You okay with that, kiddo?"
The thought alone sent something warm and fierce through him.
One family, truly.
Their clans blending together.
Maybe even another baby someday.
With blood adoption, it wouldn't be hard. Not if Harry wanted it, and Shikaku knew he did. Daen had seen fit to warn him about the babies in the hospital. And with how maternal he was? Who was he to deny him another child. The thought should probably have alarmed him, but instead it settled into him with unexpected rightness.
Teddy looked up at him then, and his features shifted.
His eyes went from bright green to brown. His hair darkened and spiked up into a familiar Nara mess. His skin deepened a little in tone.
He reached up with one hand and patted Shikaku's cheek.
"Dada," he said, then lifted the plush proudly. "'Igel, dada!"
Shikaku stared at him for a second and then smirked despite the sudden tightness in his throat.
"Yeah, kid," he said quietly.
The living room was a disaster by the time they got there.
Every pillow, sheet and blanket in the house had apparently been sacrificed to the cause. A sprawling fort filled the middle of the room, slightly crooked but sturdy enough that his mother had clearly intervened to keep it from collapsing on his sons.
Shikaku stepped closer and knocked lightly against the sheet draped over the entrance.
"Permission to enter, Commander Nara?"
Inside, Shikamaru giggled.
Then his son's voice called back with solemn authority, "permission denied!"
Shikaku grinned. "I've got a soldier here to join your ranks. Codename: Puppy!"
At once, small hands reached through the curtain flap.
Shikaku barely had time to lower Teddy before Shikamaru dragged him into the fort and pulled the sheet shut again.
"No adults allowed!" Shikamaru declared from inside. "This is a secret debrief!"
Shikaku laughed outright. "Aye aye, Commander. I'll report back in the morning."
Still smiling, he left them to it and found his mother in the kitchen making a pot of tea.
Saeko looked him over from head to toe, nodded once in approval, then narrowed her eyes.
"Why are you looking so nervous?"
Shikaku rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not nervous." He denied quickly.
She lifted one elegant brow and reached out to straighten his collar like he was still twelve. "Shikaku, I gave birth to you. I know exactly what you look like when you're nervous."
He grumbled under his breath but didn't argue.
"Tonight has to be perfect," he admitted at last.
It took a moment for her to understand.
Then she gasped.
Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes widening with delighted shock.
"Oh, kami," she breathed. "Shikaku— does this mean—are you proposing to Hari?!"
He winced when her excited squeal followed the question.
"Maybe," he said, unable to stop the grin that spread over his face. "You'll find out tomorrow."
"Shikaku Nara, don't you dare leave me hanging!"
He leaned in and kissed her cheek before stepping away.
"Teddy's going to need his night bottle soon," he reminded her.
"Shikaku!" She called out.
But he was already gone in a shunshin.
He appeared in the hallway of Harry's house and immediately cracked his shin against the shoe stand in the dark.
He hissed under his breath and caught himself against the wall.
"Sweetheart?" he called.
"In the kitchen," came Harry's faint voice.
Shikaku huffed a quiet laugh and followed the sliver of light beneath the kitchen door.
"Why is it so dark in here?" he asked as he pushed the door open. "You ready to go?"
The words died in his throat.
Harry sat slouched at the kitchen table, still dressed in the clothes he wore to his meeting. One hand rested on the tabletop, picking anxiously at the wood beneath his fingers.
It was his eyes that made Shikaku's stomach drop.
Red-rimmed from crying.
Who the fuck had made his sweetheart cry?
He crossed the room in three strides.
"What happened?" he asked sharply. "What's wrong?"
He cupped Harry's face at once, thumbs brushing his cheeks as he searched his expression.
"Hari? Sweetheart?"
Harry closed his eyes, longing and something raw etched into his face as he relaxed into the hold.
Then he opened his eyes again and the expression melted away.
"Danzo cornered me in the bathroom after the meeting today," he said quietly. "He threatened Shikamaru and I..." His gaze dropped. "I skimmed his thoughts to find out if he was being serious."
Shikaku's hand fell from his face as rage detonated in his chest.
"That rat-fucking bastard," he snarled, already turning away, pacing. "Are you alright? What did he say?" he demanded.
"He insinuated that we should be careful about the people we let close to Shikamaru," he said. "Then he said that he would happily take Shikamaru under his wing."
Shikaku snarled.
"Over my dead body," he bit out. "That bastard was hinting at Root. I just know it! What were his thoughts? Did you get much?"
Harry swallowed.
"More than I wanted."
Something in that answer made Shikaku stop pacing and turn fully back to him.
Harry hesitated.
Then, very quietly, he said. "He thought about how stupid Yoshino had to be to fuck up such a simple kidnapping, that he had practically done most of it for her and she still messed it up."
For a second, Shikaku just stared.
Then the chair nearest him went flying when he swatted it across the room so hard it crashed into the wall and broke to the floor. The action made Harry jump, but he knew he didn't have anything to fear from Shikaku's anger.
"She was working for Danzo?" he said, his voice low and shaking. "I should have known. How didn't I know?" His hands curled into fists so hard his nails bit into his palms. "What did Danzo gain from giving Shikamaru to another village? I'll kill him. I should have killed her more slowly."
But it made terrible sense, didn't it? Yoshino could have arranged an accident. She could have poisoned Shikamaru, staged some tragedy, done any number of quieter things if she'd only wanted him gone.
But a kidnapping.
It had always been too elaborate.
"That wasn't all I heard," Harry said.
Shikaku forced himself still.
"Is he going to try again?"
Harry shook his head and watched Shikaku's expression carefully.
"He thought," Harry began. "He thought that it was such a shame that Inoichi was the one you chose to do the mind walk on Shikamaru." He swallowed, hardly able to repeat the words. "That he would have gotten a lot more information on me if his own Yamanaka had done it."
Shikaku felt the blood drain from his face completely.
"Tell me he was lying," Harry pleaded suddenly, voice breaking. "Tell me you didn't let Inoichi read our son's mind."
Shikaku's mouth opened.
"Hari, I…"
"Tell me you didn't!" Harry said again, standing so abruptly the chair legs scraped harshly across the floor. "Tell me you didn't!"
"It's not what you think! Let me explain."
"What is there to explain?" Harry demanded, louder, sharper. "It's a yes or no, Shikaku. Did you and Inoichi mind walk our six-year-old son!"
The truth came out hoarse and quiet.
"Yes."
Harry made a broken keening sound.
Then his fists hit Shikaku's chest, not hard enough to hurt, but full of grief and fury all the same.
"Why!"
Shikaku caught his wrists on instinct, then loosened his grip at once when Harry looked at him with such anger and accusation.
"Why, Shikaku!" Hari cried. "Do you know how dangerous it is to read a child's mind? You could have erased his memories!"
"Because I had to!" he shot back, voice rising despite himself. "It was protocol! When a child goes missing from the village and returns, they undergo a screening. Especially a clan child. The council would never have let Shikamaru join the academy if we didn't do it!"
"Then you should have asked him what he wanted!" Harry shouted. "What if he didn't want to join the academy!"
"Of course he wanted to!" Shikaku snapped defensive, fear and guilt both driving him. "I couldn't let his future turn to dust because of it. He's my son, my heir! The elders never would have let him stay heir if he didn't become a ninja!"
"Fuck the elders, Shikaku!" Harry roared. "This is our son! You're the clan head! You could have changed the rules for him—you should have!"
The fight went out of Shikaku then.
He knew, even as he stood there breathing hard, that Harry wasn't entirely wrong.
"It's not that easy," he said quietly. "I had to do it. It wasn't just about Shikamaru being compromised."
Harry stood very still at his words, anger receding slightly at the guilt on his face.
"I know you would never hurt our son."
The words should have relieved him.
Instead, they drove the knife in deeper.
"I know that," Harry went on. "And I know Inoichi is skilled in what he does. But I need to know—"
Shikaku swallowed. "Know what?"
Harry looked at him with wet, burning eyes.
"How far back did you see?" he whispered. "Did you watch all of it?" His breath hitched. "The Hokage was worried about the influence I would have had on him, right?" He swallowed hard. "Tell me you didn't see all of my memories as well as his."
"Sweetheart, I—"
Shikaku stopped.
And that hesitation was all the answer Harry needed.
"You knew," Harry whispered, his face changing with heartbreaking clarity.
"I—"
"All this time," Harry said, voice hollowing out, "you knew."
Shikaku felt panic begin to claw up his throat.
"Hari, listen to me—"
"You watched his memories," Harry said. "There's no way you wouldn't have joined Inoichi on the mind walk."
Shikaku winced.
"You saw all the months Shikamaru and I spent together." Harry said, each word landing like a blow. "You knew about my magic. About the Keep. My life. You knew everything he knew."
His breath started coming too fast and he backed away, not quickly, but enough that Shikaku felt his panic spike.
He caught him before he could get far, caging him in his arms.
"Sweetheart, please," he said desperately. "Please listen to me."
Harry was crying now.
Not quietly either. His whole body shook with it. He hit at Shikaku's chest weakly with both hands, rage and heartbreak and grief pouring out of him in hot, helpless waves, and all Shikaku could do was hold him and apologise.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Sweetheart, please—"
Then a gust of air slammed into Shikaku and threw him backwards.
He stumbled, boots scraping against the kitchen floor as he caught himself against the counter.
Harry stood there panting, magic flickering around him like agitated sparks of lightning.
"How could you keep this from me!" Harry demanded, tears still clinging to his lashes. "I would have accepted that you had to mind walk Shikamaru eventually, only because I know you would never let anything hurt him, but this?" His voice broke. "How could you lie to me?"
"I never lied!"
"Lying by omission is still lying, Shikaku!" Harry shouted. "You pretended not to know anything. All those times I confided in you, showed you my secrets, my magic, my past—" He pressed his shaking hands around his stomach in comfort. "And you accepted it all like it was nothing. How fucking stupid must I have looked to you? Was our whole relationship a lie?"
Harry laughed, sharp and wet and ruined.
"It wasn't like that!" Shikaku said at once, stepping toward him again despite the wildness of Harry's magic. "How could I tell you what I knew? Any way I would have said it would have been a betrayal!"
"I doubt the Hokage ordered you to keep the mind walk a secret!" Harry shouted. "If it was protocol then half the village probably knew you had done it! You should have told me!"
By the end, Harry's voice cracked hard enough that Shikaku's own knees felt weak.
He should have.
At the beginning, he had told himself there would be a better time.
He had told himself Harry deserved to choose how much he shared without Shikaku cornering him with what he already knew.
He had told himself a thousand things.
And now none of them mattered, because Harry looked at him like everything was broken.
"Please, Hari—" Shikaku caught himself, dragged a hand through his hair, and pleaded again. "Please, Sweetheart. I know I was wrong. I— I left it too long and by then I didn't know how to tell you."
Harry's face crumpled, his magic fading as exhaustion crept up on him.
He sank weakly back into the chair, all the fight draining out of him so suddenly it terrified Shikaku more than the shouting had.
He looked heartbroken.
Shikaku dropped to his knees in front of him and reached for his hands.
This time Harry let him take them, but only limply.
"Please," Shikaku whispered. "Sweetheart, believe me. I never wanted to hurt you."
Harry choked on a sob.
"But it was all a lie," he said.
"No." The word came out too fast, too rough. "No, none of it was a lie. I swear to you."
"But it was," Harry whispered. "All those times I confided in you, you acted like it was the first time you'd heard it. It was never real."
Shikaku felt something inside him break. The tears trailed steadily down Harry's cheeks, one after another, despite Shikaku's thumbs brushing them away.
"It was real," Shikaku said, his own voice breaking with desperation. "All of it was real. I love you more than anything."
A pained sound escaped him then, one he couldn't hold back.
And Harry's face twisted in response.
"Tell me what I can do to fix this," he begged. "Please, sweetheart. It was all real. I love you."
Harry felt even more wrecked by Shikaku's distress, his instincts roaring at him to make it better, to keep him close. That this was his mate, the father of his sons.
That he would never hurt him.
But he did.
Harry stared into Shikaku's eyes, his own welling up again, and whispered, "I love you too."
For one terrible second hope surged through Shikaku.
Then Harry pulled his hands, weakly but deliberately, out of Shikaku's grasp.
And everything in Shikaku went cold.
"But I can't trust you," Harry whispered brokenly. "I think you should go. I—" His breath hitched on a sob. "I need you to go."
For a moment Shikaku just knelt there.
"No…" he pleaded quietly.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away, shoulders caving in around himself.
"Please."
Shikaku's throat burned.
His chest felt like someone had reached in and hollowed it out.
He wanted to fight.
Wanted to stay.
Wanted to stay on his knees and explain and explain and explain until Harry understood that none of it had been calculated, that every kiss and touch and confession had been real, that he had never once looked at him and thought lie, only mine, mine, mine and thank the kami he's here.
But Harry had asked him to go.
And for all that he had failed him already, he couldn't ignore that.
His fingers twitched at his sides, then drifted uselessly to the little ring box still heavy in his pocket.
"Please…"