"Hazō, scout the corridor," Mari-sensei murmured, eyes flicking nervously across the map. "I don't like this. It's been too easy."

Hazō nodded. With careful steps he inched forward and around the corner, holding his sword close to his body in preparation to attack or defend.

Out of sight, dice clattered across wood.

"Ha!" Noburi cried. "As you move around the corner, you fail to notice a small hidden door in the wall! A black-clad assassin leaps out and stabs you in the neck for eighty-seven damage, plus poison! You drop instantly and he drags your dead body back into the secret chamber. The rites will take six rounds and then you'll rise from the dead as another vengeful zombie-demon like the ones that burned Mist. Mari-sensei, you and the others hear a strangled gasp and then a clicking noise as the door closes. What do you—"

"Hang on," Hazō said, "my Enhanced Sense: Tactile plus Telempathic Link with my air spirit familiar mean that I can detect all air movements within three squares of me. I would have known the instant that the hidden door opened—"

"His sword had Elemental Invisibility," Noburi said quickly, eyes flicking down. "And...the cabinet was masked with Unnoticeability."

Hazō frowned "That's a second level invocation. My forehead protector is imbued with Senses of the Kami, which makes me immune to any sense-blocking invocations under third level—"

"Enhanced Unnoticeability."

"But my Air Aura would have blocked twenty percent of the damage from physical attacks and then my Ki Cloak blocks sixty percent of what remains, as well as giving me a free Trip attack against people coming at me from behind. They both round up, so if he rolled eighty-seven damage then only twenty-seven should have actually reached me. That's not an instant kill so I should have gotten to use my Raiton Riposte."

"Okay, fine, it was only twenty-seven but you've only got thirty Life, so twenty-seven counts as massive damage and—"

"Yeah, but my Heritage of the Oni bloodline makes me immune to the massive damage rules and lets me regenerate eight points per round, so—"

"Rocks fall, everyone dies!" Noburi cried, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

"I said you should make him use a pregenerated character," Mari-sensei told him in amusement.

Noburi glared at her. "More rocks fall!"

o-o-o-o

The door to Jiraiya's office was open, so Hazō knocked and leaned in. "Sir?"

Jiraiya looked up from the stack of scrollwork on his desk. "Hm? C'mon in, kid. Grab a seat and give me an excuse to stop staring at this stuff before my eyeballs fall out."

Hazō settled into the visitor's chair, trying very hard not to show just how badly creeped out he was at the sense of the ANBU guard's presence behind him.

Jiraiya looked past Hazō's shoulder and rolled his eyes. "Ocelot, be nice. For that matter, all of you wait outside."

A no-doubt-purposeful whisper of sound signaled Ocelot's retreat into the hall. There was no sign of who else 'all' might have referred to.

"Thank you, sir," Hazō said.

Jiraiya shrugged. "Don't sweat it. Ocelot isn't fond of missing-nin and she's feeling a little conflicted about you guys. Don't worry, though; she's got the highest loyalty index of any ANBU agent in the past five years, so I'm not worried about her doing anything aside from maybe looming a little bit."

Hazō digested that. "I see. Um, okay." He shook himself and took a breath to center. "I had a few things I thought you should know, sir." He pulled a sheaf of papers out of his beltpouch and nervously squared them up, only to pause when Jiraiya started laughing.

"Sir?" Hazō asked nervously.

The Sannin got himself under control and wiped his eyes. "Wow. Young kid, sitting there looking all nervous and telling me that he had a few things I should know? For a moment I was looking for blond hair, but then you called me 'sir'. Anyway, what was it?"

"Um...okay." Hazō looked down at the first item on his stack. "First, is this room secure? Uh...I mean...I would assume it is, because you're the Leaf spymaster and good at your job, but I thought I should ask just to be sure because Mari-sensei has always taught us that lazy ninja are dead ninja and it's good to double check everything, but I didn't mean to suggest that you wouldn't have secured it because that could sound like I was criticizing you or calling you lazy, which really wasn't my intention—"

Jiraiya was laughing again. "Breathe, Hazō. Breathe. Yes, the room is secure."

"Right. Yes. Sorry sir." He looked down at the sheet again, giving himself another moment. "Um...so, I'm related to the Uchiha and I've got a one-in-thirty-two chance of my children having the Sharingan and I think they'll know that as soon as they look at me and I figured I should probably mention that."

Jiraiya sat back, eyebrows going up. "Really? I knew that the Kurosawa were an offshoot of the Uchiha from way back, but I didn't know the part about occasionally throwing Sharingan. I'm assuming it doesn't breed true or the whole clan would have them by now?"

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"Yessir. I mean no, sir. I mean it doesn't breed true, sir."

"Breathe, Hazō."

"Yessir." Deep breath. Slow exhale. Jiraiya wasn't going to throw him in a killbox. Jiraiya was, or soon would be, his adoptive father. There's only one poppa and this ain't him! Hazō was safe here.

"Thank you, Hazō. I'm glad you told me this, because it could have been an issue if I got blindsided by it. Are there any Sharingan kids alive right now that you know of?"

"No, sir. There could be, but I was never part of the clan and momma never mentioned any. She said that the clan tries hard to keep them hidden, though."

"Yes, but would they go pretty damn far for it?" Jiraiya asked, a sly grin on his face.

Hazō blushed. "Sir—"

Jiraiya waved him silent. "Sorry, sorry. I know this whole situation has to be stressful for you, and I shouldn't tease you. You're safe, I promise. I keep my deals and the deal I have with you guys is a good one. If anyone touches you I will literally rip his arms off and feed him to my Toads."

Hazō blinked. "R-really?"

Jiraiya nodded seriously. "Really. You lot are going to be my clan. No one touches my clan."

Hazō digested that. No one outside of the team and his mother had ever stood up for him like that.

"Oh," he said faintly.

Jiraiya smiled and leaned across the desk to ruffle Hazō's hair. The desk was in the way and the Sannin wasn't really trying; Hazō could have dodged. He instead chose to sit still and accept the gesture.

Jiraiya leaned back, still smiling, but his face got more serious and he raised a finger. "The only exception is that I can't protect you from the law. Don't hurt anyone, don't threaten anyone, don't steal anything. Things are still very much up in the air with the Councils. They aren't bad but they aren't good either."

"Yes, sir." Hazō fiddled with his papers for a moment. "Um, I had some seal ideas that I thought you might want to know about...?" He held out the notes.

Jiraiya blinked at the thick stack of papers. "That...is a lot of ideas."

"Oh! It's actually in triplicate, sir. The first set is organized by type, the second is alphabetical, and the third is by how easy I think they would be to research. Um...I know you were saying that social-skill seals are impractical, but I had a few thoughts that I wanted to mention."

Jiraiya took the stack and flipped through the first few pages. "A seal to create an intimidating aura?" He scratched his shoulder for a moment and a corona of black flames leaped out of his body, emitting barely audible screams of tortured realities and despairing souls instead of the warm crackling of normal fire. "I don't know how practical it would be," he said, ignoring the way Hazō had recoiled in his chair. "Still, pretty interesting idea. We should maybe work on it some time. Now, let's see what else you've got...."

o-o-o-o

"Keiko?" Hazō asked carefully. "May I speak to you?"

"Of course," Keiko said, shifting slightly on the couch so that she could face him when he settled into the chair beside her.

"I wanted to talk to you about the offer the Nara made," he said. "I am concerned because I have noticed that you tend to significantly underestimate your own value, both as a person and as a ninja. I'm worried you will decide sacrificing yourself to an unwanted dynastic union is what's best for the team even though it makes you unhappy. You are very important to me and I would not want you to accept such a marriage or adoption unless you wanted it for yourself. At the same time I recognize that this might in fact be something you want. If it is, then I will support your decision as much as I possibly can. I will note, however, that it would make me very sad if you disappeared into the Nara clan compound and I never saw you again. If you do decide to join their clan I hope you will not be mewed up."

For just a moment, Keiko smiled. "Thank you, Hazō. I have not yet made my decision, but I appreciate your concern.

"I have considered the proposition carefully. There are advantages and disadvantages to joining the Nara clan, and the question of whether to be adopted or married is an interesting one. Among the advantages of joining the clan are that it would, as you point out, be tremendously advantageous to our team. The Akimichi, Nara, and Yamanaka clans are extremely powerful in Leaf. Between the three of them they control several percent of Leaf's economy, as well as the jōnin commander slot, most of the Logistics department, and a senior advisor to the Hokage himself." She paused, and an unholy light kindled behind her eyes. "Plus, they have that library."

"Uh..." said Hazō. "Keiko?"

She shook out of the daydream. "I have not yet made my decision. I will need more information—if I were to marry in, whom would they as my husband? What living arrangements would I be offered? What information would I be required to give up? I need to have a conversation with the elders of their clan."

"I see," Hazō said. He paused, then slapped his thighs and stood up. "In that case, tomorrow morning we'll talk to Jiraiya about setting up a meeting."