Chapter Text
It was Team Ibiki’s tenth D-Rank mission since becoming genin. Hatake Tsukiko, still learning how to deal with her emotions, found herself almost slipping into a meltdown over a crowd on the other side of the village. Her team was there for an mangaka signing, ensuring everything went smoothly, given the author was known to have teenage girls fawning over him and causing problems.
Tsukiko didn’t understand the big fuss over him, he seemed pretty average to her, writing semi-horror fantasy manga. Nothing interesting to her. In fact, she hated anything horror. Blood, guts, surprises, living dead? Yuck. She liked her tame fantasy manga like Natsume Yūjinchō and, shoot, even Sailor Moon.
“Hey Tsuki, I think you might like this,” her teammate, Ryouichi, said suddenly.
Ugh. Minamoto Ryouichi. Tsukiko hated him. Even though she absolutely loved being on the team with Morino Ibiki, Ryouichi made it hard some days. For whatever reason, he was just a massive jerk to her. It was weird, they were able to work together the first few times, but then something changed, and he started being nasty to her.
“Put that back, Minamoto,” Ibiki-sensei snapped. “You know Tsukiko doesn’t like the series.”
“Oh, come on, look at this really creepy character with his face spl––”
Sensei snatched the book from him and set it back on the table. “Enough, Minamoto.”
Tsukiko shuddered and tried to focus on the mission at hand: keep fangirls away from Takahashi Hidari. Really though, why did girls like him so much? Was she missing something? Or did she just not see what they saw?
As the day went on, the sensory input grew. More and more people trickled into the store for the book signing. Normal sounds turned into a cacophony as people filtered in. Heat swelled around them from the crowd. Tsukiko found herself rocking on her heels, trying to self-regulate before she went into a meltdown. Soon after, she started fidgeting roughly with her jacket.
She heard movement and when she turned her head, she saw Ibiki-sensei kneeling beside her. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and gazed at her gently.
“You okay, kid?” His voice was a barely audible whisper amongst the cacophony of chatter.
Tsukiko took a shaky breath and shrugged.
“Go step outside and get yourself together,” he suggested calmly. “I know, it’s a bit much in here, isn’t it?”
Tsukiko swallowed hard and nodded.
“Go on. Go take a breather, and I’ll see if we can do something about the sensory input. I don’t need you having a meltdown, kiddo.”
Ryouichi snorted. “Looks like the cry baby needs to go cry, huh?”
“Minamoto, shut up,” Sensei snapped.
Tsukiko pinned her arms to her chest and started walking away. Behind her, she could hear Ibiki-sensei heading in the opposite direction to find the coordinator of the event. Yet just before she got too far from her team, she heard Ryouichi proclaim as loud as he could, “Shinobi can’t have accommodations in the real world, Shion. I think she’s just a big baby!”
Humiliation scorched her cheeks and tears poured from her eyes. With her lips trembling, she bolted while crying into her hoodie sleeve.
“Wait, Tsuki––” Ibiki-sensei called after them. Just before the doors closed behind her, she could hear him groan with frustration.
She didn’t care where she went, she just needed to get away from Ryouichi. Soon, she came across a quiet spot under a tree and collapsed to her knees. Burying her face in her hands, she sobbed uncontrollably. Why was he so mean? Why did he have to make them feel worse than they already did? Why couldn’t he accept the fact that Tsukiko needed more help than the average shinobi?
She dug the palms of her hands into her eyes and whined. For several minutes, she was left alone. Eventually, she heard a soft sound and muttering softly. Naturally, she felt the urge to look, but they avoided looking. Though, judging by the person’s gait, she could tell it was Ibiki-sensei.
“Tsukiko.”
She buried her face between her legs. “G-Go away.”
Sensei sat next to them. “You don’t mean that, kiddo. You want my company, but you are too embarrassed to admit to it.”
Tsukiko sniffed and wiped her tears. Well...he was right, they weren’t going to admit it.
“Interestingly enough, Hidari-san is giving Ryouichi a thorough chewing out, and working on reducing the stimulation.”
Tsukiko sniffed again. “But Ryou will keep doing this. He’s never going to stop, Sensei.”
Ibiki dipped his head in thought. “I keep trying to get him kicked off the team, but Lord Hokage believes I have the capacity to scare him straight.” Sensei scoffed. “That kid isn’t afraid of me, no matter what I say or do. Which is interesting, because I’ve seen people kill their teammates rather than let them be interrogated by me. But Ryouichi? Hardly bothered. But…that’s neither here nor there.”
“Sensei, why am I a shinobi? I’m disabled…do I really have a place in this world? Maybe Ryou is right, I’m too sensitive...”
“He’s wrong,” Ibiki-sensei spat the words out. “Every person who wants to be a shinobi should be afforded the same opportunity to become one, disabled or not. You can’t learn about becoming a shinobi if you’re not in the right environment. That’s natural, y’know? Everyone learns differently.”
Tsukiko avoided his gaze still and he sighed heavily.
“Tsukiko, you’re a genin. The main job of a genin in the beginning? To learn how to apply what they learned in the Academy to the real world. It’s not going to be easy. That’s something that Ryouichi doesn’t understand, and I’m not sure he will understand it.”
“Why won’t he be kicked off the team, Sensei?”
Ibiki-sensei scowled. “I don’t know. I think it’s the hope that he’ll eventually figure it out, but I’m not quite as hopeful.”
Tsukiko huffed with annoyance and Ibiki-sensei glanced to the side.
“You know, I get picked on, too,” he said.
Sniffling, Tsukiko finally lifted their gaze to see their sensei. “Really?”
He nodded. “You wouldn’t think it, would you? A tough, scary guy like me. I mean, part of it is people are so scared of me, but other people think I’m hideous. Sometimes, it’s a combination of both. Others think I take my interrogations too far...it’s a lot of things.”
Tsukiko frowned. “I don’t think you look bad at all.”
Ibiki widened his eyes and then smiled slightly. “You’re biased, Tsuki. Either that, or your father taught you how to be polite.”
Tsukiko giggled a bit, and he grinned.
“People are assholes, Tsukiko. And it’s going to be a tough lesson to learn, but I promise it will get easier to deal with.”
Tsukiko glanced down. “Can you teach me how to be more like you?”
He hesitated. “I don’t think you really want to be like me. Everything I’ve seen and experienced, I wouldn’t wish on anybody.”
He paused when they gave him a pained look. A tense silence between the pair followed. Finally, he closed his eyes and loosed a tired sigh.
“Well...I could teach you some ways to stand up for yourself and make yourself a harder target for Ryouichi,” he relented. “You know how to fight––very well, might I add. I’ve seen you working hard at fighting. What you need to do is utilize that knowledge against Ryouichi.”
Tsukiko wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her hoodie. “I thought we weren’t supposed to fight our teammates, especially like that? Isn’t that bad?”
A faint smile flickered on his lips. “Correct. However, given your teammate believes you are a target to fight, you need to stop it. At this point, you have to consider your options.”
“Mmkay...”
Ibiki tilted his head. “Tell you what...how interested are you in learning genjutsu, Tsuki?”
She perked her head up. “You’d teach me?”
“Yes. I don’t mind teaching you what you need to know, and this would be something you could easily translate into other skills.” He smirked. “Besides, it gives you a mental advantage over him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, let me put it to you this way...” Ibiki scratched his cheek and glanced through the trees thoughtfully. “With genjutsu, you can essentially get into a person’s mind. You can confuse them, lead them astray, and then keep them guessing. That gives you an advantage over Ryouichi. You’d be ahead of him by kilometers. And it’d be an advantage not many could claim.”
Tsukiko canted her head to the side.
“And I’ll teach you how to mentally fuck him up,” Ibiki continued. “Show him that you’re the last person he wants to mess with.”
“Really?”
“Mhm.”
Tsukiko finally returned her gaze to the ground again. Would it help to be able to perform genjutsu? Wasn’t it basically like ninjutsu? What difference would it even make at that point?
“You know, it gives me confidence,” he snapped her back out of her thoughts. “Practicing genjutsu, I mean. I know you’re good at ninjutsu, but I think that you will find genjutsu to give you the confidence you lack. We can try tomorrow after I send those two home. What do you think?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“Cheer up, kiddo. Could be worse––you could be me.”
She laughed and he smirked.
“Got you to laugh,” he said. “Come on, Tsuki. Let’s go back and finish our mission, eh? The nice mangaka might have gotten things to settle down by now.”
“Okay...” Tsukiko agreed.
After Tsukiko got home from her mission around suppertime, she bowed to her sensei and headed into her house. Waiting in the living room was her father, the legendary Copy Ninja Kakashi, who...upon closer inspection, was fast asleep on the couch with his book on his face. In the kitchen, she could hear her grandfather, the legendary White Fang of Konoha, cooking dinner.
Sniffing the air, she could tell immediately it was his special chicken curry. Even without tasting it, she knew he had once again successfully managed the perfectly balance the sweet with the savory. Once again taking a whiff of the air, Tsukiko could catch a hint of apple and chocolate. Oh, that was the best one he made.
She kicked off her sandals in the genkan and headed into the living room.
“Tadaima!” She called, then walked over to her father. Giggling at him, she grabbed the book off his face, and he reached up to snatch it from her, not even opening his eyes.
“Nice try,” he said. “But you forget, I can sense your movements even with my eyes closed.”
“You don’t usually notice when I come into your bedroom in the middle of the night,” she teased.
Daddy opened his eyes finally and looked at her. “It’s been five years, and you still aren’t letting me forget?”
“I scared you.” She grinned. “The only time I’ve ever been able to scare you.”
“I was dead asleep,” he pointed out, sitting up. “And sick. Didn’t really take much effort to startle me, Little Moon.”
Tsukiko giggled and hopped into his lap. He grunted and then wrapped his arms around her. With an exasperated sigh, he kissed her cheek and gave her a gentle squeeze.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he said. “How was your mission today, sweetheart?”
Tsukiko curled up against him and didn’t look at him. “Ryou keeps making fun of me. He was calling me a cry-baby in front of everyone. I was just getting overwhelmed. It’s not my fault that I can’t control it yet...”
Daddy sighed and pulled her close. “Kids are cruel. And I’ll admit, I was one of those cruel kids.”
“I tried to lead him in a different direction,” Grandpa admitted as he headed into the living room. “Unfortunately...”
“You weren’t there for a while,” Daddy said with a growl.
Grandpa held up his hands defensively. “Sorry.” He sighed and sat next to them. “I know it’s easier said than done, Tsuki, but really...don’t let Ryouichi get to you. He is just jealous because you come from a long line of excellent shinobi.” He poked her chest. “And because you are the kindest shinobi out there.”
“What’s the use of being the kindest shinobi if I’m just going to cry?” Tsukiko asked. “I know I’m a genin and I’m supposed to be learning, but it’s really hard.”
“I know it is, sweetie,” Grandpa said, taking her into his arms and pulling her close. “But you can do it. You come from a long line of lunatics.”
Tsukiko giggled. “Yes, Grandpa.”
He kissed her head. “Got you to smile, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Oh! But Sensei said he would teach me genjutsu, he says it might actually help.”
Daddy’s expression blanched. “Genjutsu?”
Grandpa looked at him. “What’s the matter with her learning genjutsu, Kakashi?”
“I just...don’t think Ibiki should be the one teaching that to her.”
“Why not?” Grandpa asked with a cant of his head. “He’s her sensei, after all. Not only that, but how well can you actually translate your knowledge of genjutsu to her?”
Daddy rolled his eyes. “I’m not sure I want her learning how to torture people with genjutsu.”
“Sensei isn’t gonna teach me that,” Tsukiko promised. “He wants to teach me a way to get inside people’s minds and show I’m not an easy target.”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m fond of this idea. I don’t want him scaring you out of being a shinobi.”
Tsukiko beamed. “Daddy, Sensei wants to help me be a shinobi, and he wants to give me a confidence boost. He won’t scare me, I promise.”
“You’re sure?”
“Mhm!” Tsukiko nodded eagerly. “I can tell that Sensei won’t scare me. He’s really nice, Daddy.”
Daddy sighed. “Alright, if you’re sure it’ll be okay...but...”
“Kakashi, she’s fine,” Grandpa said, standing up. “He’s shown he’s not going to terrorize her, you know.”
“I know...I just worry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I know it’s easier said than done, but you have to trust Ibiki.” He placed a gentle hand on his son’s head and mussed his hair. Daddy cringed and frowned. Grandpa offered a teasing smirk. “Hey, don’t make that face. It’ll get stuck like that.”
Daddy rolled his eyes. “Yes, Dad.”
Tsukiko glanced between them and giggled. “You guys are silly.”
Daddy kissed her head. “No, you’re the silly one.”
“Nuh-uh. Daddy, you’re silly.”
“Who? Me?” Daddy scoffed. “I’m not silly at all.”
Tsukiko giggled, then lowered her gaze. “Daddy, is it really okay that I struggle with my emotions? Am I still a good shinobi?”
“Yes,” he told her. “You are perfectly fine. You’ll learn to control it better, I promise.” He sighed. “I also admit that I’m glad you have your emotions to begin with. You won’t be a callous asshole like I was, and I appreciate that about you.”
“Callous?” Tsukiko repeated with a cant of her head.
“Heartless. Mean.”
“You were heartless?”
Daddy furrowed his eyebrows and sighed. “Yes. I was. And I hope you don’t ever go in that direction. Remember our promise a few years ago?”
Tsukiko nodded. “I won’t let you down, Daddy.”
“Good. Now, how about you go shower before Grandpa finishes dinner?”
“Okay, Daddy!” Tsukiko beamed.