Stronger Than The Sannin

[Acksiom]

Chapter 1 - Pipe Smoke and Peppermints

The smallest of changes can have consequences of the greatest proportions. One footman's misstep, and the battle is turned; one horseshoe nail is missing, and the war is lost; one less drop of soy sauce, and a single sodium ion does not reach the brain. . .

. . .and a neuron does not fire when it should, and Hiruzen Sarutobi, third Hokage of Konoha, nods off at his desk after another long night of stress and worry; the kind of night where even his 'retired' ANBU assistant, at her desk outside his office, is subtly easing her stinging eyestrain with a concealed trickle of healing chakra from her fingertips.

The Sandaime blinked. Did I just. . .?

Yes. I did.

He drew a long breath in through his nose, then exhaled, his lips puffing out slightly. That was it, then. He'd fallen asleep while working twice now in less than six months.

There was no room for that kind of error when you were Kage. Years ago, when he'd taken up the position again, he'd set a standard for himself: two such losses of control in six months or less meant it was time to retire. He'd already fallen asleep when he hadn't meant to less than three months earlier. It didn't matter if his lapse tonight had more to do with his personal relief at the improvement in Naruto's fortunes than his larger concerns as Hokage of Konoha; the result was the same.

It was time to choose his second successor, and step down again.

Long past time, in honesty, he thought.

He rose from his seat and went to face the wide bank of windows behind his desk, clasping his hands in the small of his back. There was – of course – no sign in the village below of the furor among the leading clans at the night's events. Using his crystal scrying ball, he'd already seen most of it, including Iruka-sensei's decision to graduate Naruto, and had agreed with the instructor's choice. The boy had more than earned his hitai-ite. . .or rather, his final test.

The question before the Sandaime now was who would administer it. There was still only one serious candidate available for his own replacement, but it would take careful maneuvering to arrange the necessary acceptance of the responsibility on all sides. . .he smiled. Yes. That would do nicely. And he had a horrifically believable threat immediately available if his worse distraction balked.

"Suzume," the Hokage said quietly. A sparrow-masked ANBU emerged from the shadows and knelt behind him, whispering "Hai, Hokage-sama."

"Direct ANBU control to recall Maneki-neko, triple urgent, single speed."

"Hai, Hokage-sama." The ANBU faded silently into the shadows again.

The Hokage turned to his desk and picked up his still-smoldering pipe. "Time to debrief Iruka-sensei," he told the rest of his personal guard detail, and left his office for the hospital.

# # #

Iruka smiled contentedly at the ceiling of his private room. It was a little forced, but still more genuine than not. Even in Konoha, med-nin treatment was a premium service, and under normal circumstances, it would have put a noticeable dent in his savings. Since Mizuki had turned traitor, however, and Iruka had caught him literally in the act, the costs for healing the wounds he'd taken while doing so were being covered by the village's Defense fund. And best of all, Naruto-kun had finally shown his real potential! All in all, it had been a good night. He'd grieve for Mizuki later. . .when his rage at his former friend's betrayal had subsided enough.

There was a tap at his door, the kind of light, brisk hospital knock that said This is just a courtesy warning; we're coming in whether you like it or not. Iruka composed himself, putting on his usual professionally mild expression. A moment later, it was jolted back off again, briefly replaced by surprise as the Hokage ambled in, hat and all.

"Hokage-sama! Please forgive my incapacity-" Iruka said.

"No, no," the Sandaime interrupted him, smiling fondly. "Don't bother yourself over the courtesies, Iruka-sensei; you've served Konoha better than well tonight."

Two of the Hokage's guard detail slipped through the door, the second closing it behind them as the first began placing security seals on the walls. Once the room was warded, they both disappeared into the shadows.

Seals? What's this now? Iruka thought as the Hokage came to his bedside, still smiling.

"Hmm, hmm, Iruka-sensei. . .that said, perhaps not well enough, just yet. While I do agree with your decision to graduate Naruto, by doing so you've given me a bit of a conundrum with the team assignments. Since it's ultimately your fault, and therefore responsibility, as his sensei, I think it's only appropriate that you should solve it for me."

Ohh. . .crap, Iruka thought. Despite his increasing dismay, he somehow managed to produce an obediently attentive look as the Hokage continued.

"We will of course be maintaining the Academy tradition of pairing the lowest and highest ranked students," the Hokage said, "but now the intra-team dynamics I had anticipated no longer apply. . .which means I must reconsider the choice of the third member. While the Haruno girl would have been most appropriate for the original composition, I now find myself insufficiently informed to decide whether she should remain on Team 7 with both Naruto and Sasuke-kun, or be switched with another student. . .and if so, whom.

"Tell me, Iruka-sensei. . .what would you do in my position?"

Crap, double-crap, and bijuu-crap, Iruka thought, and then his brain caught up with the not-so-subtle hints in the Hokage's words and started working properly again. "I. . .Hokage-sama, as their sensei, I would. . .I recommend against placing Sakura-chan on Team 7. It would be. . ." he swallowed, steeling himself, then plowed forward, "it would result in fundamentally dysfunctional interactions for all three children. Naruto would continue to pursue Sakura-chan's affection and be rejected; Sakura-chan would continue to pursue Sasuke-kun's likewise, and Sasuke-kun, as a result, would withdraw even further from normal socialization. The team's emotional. . .circuitry. . .would remain unconnected, rendering its foundation unstable."

The Hokage nodded once, then continued to stare down at him, letting the silence underscore the point that Iruka had yet to suggest a solution.

Iruka allowed his gaze to drift up to the ceiling again as he mentally sorted through the possibilities. Breaking up the next generation of the Ino-Shika-Cho trio didn't seem worth it; putting a Hyuuga together with an Uchiha was. . .not exactly taboo, but usually avoided, due to the potential rivalries. However, on the striking hand, the personalities in this case were. . .ah.

Iruka couldn't help it; a strangled snort of amusement escaped him at the thought. And the Haruno girl, with her low chakra reserves but incredible control and intelligence, under Konoha's Genjutsu Mistress? Yes. That would work; the interpersonal dynamics with both the sons of the Pride of Aburame and the Inuzuka Clan Leader were solidly promising. Even the politics were sensible; both the civilians and the nin-clans would be still be satisfied with the relative respects shown to all involved.

There really wasn't a better option.

Iruka turned his gaze back to his superior. "Hokage-sama, I would switch Hinata-chan and Sakura-chan's team assignments. Not only would the team's foundation be superior, but. . ."

As he explained his reasoning, Iruka had the familiar feeling that the Hokage was already more than a few steps ahead of him. So why is he asking me? he wondered. There must be something else. . .what's underneath the underneath?

Later that night, after the Hokage had left, a possibility occurred to him: Wait, could it be!? If Hokage-sama's changing the team assignments. . .he wouldn't change that, too. . .would he?

No; he might. But who could replace that person? And more importantly. . .why?

# # #

Tenzo hunched over his braced forearms on the bar and stared blearily at the insect buzzing above the shot glass before him. It dived down at his drink three times, landed on the rim, and walked along it for a bit before rising again. A moment later it returned and repeated the pattern. He swatted at it half-heartedly until it got the message and buzzed away. He picked up his glass, eyed it with suspicion, shrugged, and downed the last mouthful of the cheap swill remaining with a slurp.

"'Nother," he slurred at the bartender as he rose, then held up a finger, ". . .when I get back."

The bartender nodded.

Tenzo slid off his barstool and shuffled down the hallway leading to the toilet. Once inside, he locked the door and straightened up. The recall order he'd just received through Tsuru-san's kikaichu meant he'd have to leave a Wood Clone behind to maintain his cover until his ANBU replacement arrived.

Someone in the area had been turning Konoha's intelligence agents for weeks now, but it wasn't his problem any longer. He'd do a final assessment at the safe house when he returned for his gear, but first came the clone. As he slowly formed the seals and released his chakra in an undetectable trickle, he began plotting out the logic matrix for his report. First off, they were still waiting for cross-confirmation that the bartender, their entry contact to the town, hadn't been turned. . .he froze.

The bartender, whose girlfriend had been dropping by at the end of the man's shift to meet him for the past few weeks. The girlfriend, who had been vetted by the previous agent on site presumably before that person had been turned.

But what if the girlfriend wasn't really the girlfriend after all?

Tenzo's mind raced through the deductive chains. It all fit. If the bartender had been turned first. . . .

His clone nodded and left the bathroom. Tenzo brought his hands together again, activating the Hiding in Surface jutsu, and disappeared into the floor.

# # #

A little less than two days later, exactly on schedule, Tenzo was back in Konoha and completing his private report to the Sandaime in the Hokage's office: ". . .which I have therefore presently labeled the Poisoned Tenketsu Seed jutsu, Hokage-sama."

The Sandaime nodded. "Ingenious. . .the tiniest of doton justsu inserted into the victim's Gate of Life. Upon any internal usage or external input of chakra beyond the minimum necessary for survival, it shatters and dissolves, releasing a traceless cardiac poison."

"Hai, Hokage-sama. The Iwa-nin were hiding in the girlfriend's apartment building, running the operation remotely. Tsuru-san's specially developed kikkaichu saved the lives of all eight dependents that were being used as hostages, and I expect to have the jutsu reverse-engineered by the end of the month."

"Despite the rookie failure to not double-check all contacts within a day of arrival," the Sandaime murmured, while Yamato repressed a wince, "well done, as always. I must reward you appropriately."

Here it comes, Tenzo thought. The traditional reward for a successful mission – a worse, harder, nastier mission.

"ANBU Captain Tenzo!" barked Sarutobi Hiruzen, Sandaime Hokage of Konohagakure.

"Hai, Hokage-sama!" Tenzo stiffened to attention in response.

"Effective immediately, you are removed from ANBU duty! You are now assigned to the Department of Instruction as a Jounin-sensei, in charge of Team Seven! Here are your genin's dossiers! Your new code-name is. . .Yamato."

Being the consummate professional that he was, Yamato-the-now merely bowed, even though his heart was overflowing with joy.

Yamato at last!

Wait, wait, what -- Jounin-sensei!?

# # #

It had taken some hustling, but Yamato was ready for his students by noon. He'd gathered his supplies and prepped his private training grounds. All that was left was the first briefing from the agent-in-place – no, his students' Academy-sensei, he corrected himself; this wasn't a mission. This was. . .not 'real life'; life didn't get much more real than ANBU service, but it was. . .public life. Genuine life; not a cover identity; not a covert operation. Social life.

He was about to have a. . .personal life. For the first time ever. It was an exciting and terrifying prospect. And now that it was here at last, he found that he had no idea where to start. So he did the first thing he usually did in such circumstances: ask himself what his senpai would do.

Unfortunately, in these particular circumstances, 'be late' wasn't much help.

Or. . .was it?

Yamato – Yamato! - smiled.