You Were Never Here Before

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Author's Note: Inspired by the novel 'Q-Squared' by Peter David. I felt like giving Konoha a crazy week along those lines. Even if things were different, wouldn't they really be the same? By the way, a personal achievement, this is the first longer story (ever) I typed rather than wrote. Meaning, I didn't write it first (in a notebook) and then type it in as I usually do with long stories like this. I still prefer it the other way, but this was new and fun for me. (And probably a lot quicker and easier, DUH.) (…I don't have a laptop. That should explain something to you.) And lastly, go read Q-Squared. Go. Read it. It is AWESOME. It is a wonderful, brilliant, and fun read like 'I,Q,'. (Go, read.) (…Seriously, go.)

Post-it note: Reading into this, I know you'll be able to judge when in time this story takes place. And lastly…please forgive me. Sixty chapters is a first. In addition to spending copious amounts of time proofing this, I also eventually decided that posting each chapter was the best way to go. Please forgive me! I'm super sorry! (And I only hope ff dot net doesn't botch this too bad-I seriously apologize.) This story was a freaking nightmare to proof. (And to upload.) Please forgive me.

Thank you: The Leafninja website, for being there with your extensive biography section when I forgot a few names and things.

For: You, if you have come with me this far. Thank you. I hope you get a laugh and a smile outta this exceptionally crazy concoction.

Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto. Thank you ff dot net for giving us this vehicle. (I love S-U-Vs.) (lol!).

Genre:Crazy Stupid Don't you wonder Interesting.

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Rated: Only for very strong language usage and colorful metaphors. Because the situations really required it and Jiraiya just couldn't help himself.

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If they give you ruled paper, write the other way.
Juan Ramón Jiménez

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Black

1.

Sarutobi was outside, looking at the trees of the village, admiring his life.

Not in a vain sort of way, no nothing like that. But after looking up at each of the mountain faces, he was reminded of how lucky and privileged he was. Shodaime, cool and level-headed had a wife too, and somehow managed to form the mold of this city while under pressure from all sorts of leaders and all kinds of threats from all kinds of persons. What an older brother to look up to. Nidaime, he was more humorous than his brother. What kinds of tricks he might have played on the former, "I don't know," Sarutobi laughed. "But I wish I could have known," Determined and resolute, he was an unwavering figure on the battlefield, dedicated to his family and those in need of protection. How strong-willed and free. Sarutobi's own face was next to Nidai's on the mountain. "I am Sandaime," said Sarutobi, smiling, "I hope history remembers me well!" Next to him, was the young face of a charming lad who was powerful in his own right. Even-tempered, just, and moral of good faith and good character. He was a grateful sort of young man, modest, and the most wonderful man and choice to continue leading the village hidden in the leaves. His power matched Sarutobi's own, if not greater. "Such a powerful, peaceful, young man," Sarutobi recalled the striking yellow hair and the defined face.

The night was getting on; the sun had almost set over the horizon of trees. The cool breeze was Heavenly as Sarutobi coasted through the shadows looming around the streets and beneath the trees, walking onward. He often took these walks in hopes of clearing his mind of the newest treaties, the gossips of leadership, the fads, and the threats of the day. He stayed attuned to each of these things. Even the fads. Though he let his wife decide an opinion on those and agreed with her. Usually.

Overhead, tree leaves rustled. Sarutobi stopped with an easy sigh when suddenly he noticed the Hatake coming over to him. "I'm sorry to disturb you sir," he said, aware of the walks Sarutobi took from time to time, "But I wonder if I might have a small word with you."

"Of course," Sarutobi entreated, speaking for the first time since suppertime. "What is it?"

The man's thin, lanky frame never changed. Even under the shadow of the leaves hovering overhead, he was entirely muscle and bone under rich dark indigo fabric hanging loosely on him. The headband plate he wore around his head was nearly the same color as his hair, a whitish silver like the chains of the silver necklace Sarutobi's wife wore around her neck over her robes. He spoke in a calm but direct tone tonight, "I believe I know where the enemy is hiding."

"…Oh?" was Sarutobi's first response.

The Hatake nodded.

Sarutobi began walking again along the path, and the thin figure followed beside him. "I thought we told you to let this go," Sarutobi picked up casually. "After all, chances are he will strike again."

"Yes. I know. But I…" He strayed away from the details. "I believe I know where he is hiding," he reiterated.

"…Really," remarked Sarutobi calmly, but with interest. "You believe you know."

"Yes sir, I believe I do."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"I would like permission to go. And find out."

"…Oh?" said Sarutobi, without expecting a response. "I assume you have spoken with Yondaime."

"Yes sir."

"And he told you no."

"Yes sir, he did."

"Rightly so. To go…by yourself? What are you thinking?" Sarutobi stopped and looked at him curiously. He smiled, watching the stuff behind the man's eyes never change. He too was a man with the makings of determination and crazy behind his eyes, having already proved himself in countless battles with countless foes, never forgetting his kindness or conviction. Sarutobi admired him greatly, still young as he was.

"I was thinking how easy it would be to get in and get out unnoticed. And then to face him, in battle. I think I have a chance."

"You always did like to tackle these things alone…" said Sarutobi with a smile in the words. "But really, to go alone? I fear you'll go rogue one day."

"Sir…I would never, ever go rogue," Hatake disavowed, looking mortified.

"Rogue with depression. Rogue with madness. Going rogue doesn't always mean to another country or to another village."

"Sir…" he began, having had this conversation, in so many words, before. "I'm fine. Hell, they say I'm happy."

"They say," Sarutobi repeated. "They say you go from one mission to the next."

"Because they say I'm the best."

The Hatake did not boast. He was not boasting now. They did indeed say he was the best. He was still young, but he was a mature man. What the mature men could handle was more than the young men. Sarutobi knew this well. Sarutobi watched the night for a moment. "What about your wife? And child?"

Sakumo hesitated. Finally, he looked downward, appreciating a walk he didn't know how to take, and a lie he did not have experience telling. "They say they can take care of the harvest should I not return in time."

For a moment, Sarutobi said nothing, allowing the silence to reinforce the gravity of his words. "Sakumo, I know you must want this, but I too must say no—"

"Oh sir please," Hatake Sakumo begged. "Please, only you—"

"Spend some time with your wife, Sakumo. Or is that what you've been running away from?"

Sakumo fought the silence with a shifting of his stance. Formerly straight, his head began to incline downward. "Sir, you…You don't understand…"

"What don't I understand? You know how I make it a point to keep up with the workings of this village even though I am no longer its leader. Please, tell me your problems."

The Hatake looked up to see a kind gaze in the older man's eyes and Sakumo thus appeared more crestfallen than before. "…Kakashi is thirteen," he said aloud, like the fact was foreign to him. "Ever since he made chuunin, all he can think about is becoming jounin."

"Teenage boys…are all the same," Sarutobi chuckled, speaking from experience.

"Yes, well," Sakumo looked askance into the woods on his left. "I don't like it, but there's nothing I can do about it. I've tried everything. I—I am frustrated, and my wife—she won't do anything about it. I even thought…"

Sarutobi gazed at him expectantly.

"I have even thought, of leaving them," Sakumo declared.

Two gulls flew overhead—Sakumo looked up into the orange sky, hearing their goofy calls. Were they a couple? Of course they were, flying off into the sunset together, going over the treeline in the distance where cicadas began screaming two by two. Sarutobi murmured. "I was right."

"…Of course," Sakumo supplied. "That's one of the many advantages of being omniscient." The two men shared a smile. Sarutobi looked up. "Retirement didn't suit you. But this doesn't either. Sakumo, what will we do with you?"

"I hope to God it doesn't end in a trial, but I want you to know that I would do anything for this village. Even disavow myself one more time." Sakumo watched Sarutobi turn his head painfully. "You are younger than me," said Hizuren firmly. "And yet you talk like this is your last battle." Sakumo flinched away; "Maybe it is." he murmured. Sarutobi's jaw tightened. "I don't know Sakumo. Perhaps we'll leave it to you." The conversation was over. Stalemate…?

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