Hanako was alive, that much was obvious.

The steady beeping of a heart monitor chipped away at the haze of unconsciousness that blanketed her mind, slowly dragging her out of the darkness. Her face was bare, cool air foreign on her skin. It smelled sterile, the harsh chemicals burning her nose as she grew ever more aware. She crinkled her nose and shifted—!

She felt like a living bruise.

Her back hurt. Her thighs hurt. Her eyes felt like someone had embalmed them in chlorine and she scrunched them with a groan.

"Hana!"

There was the recognizable sound of a chair scraping against the floor only to clatter as it fell. Her right hand was seized in a deathgrip, held tightly between two warm, calloused, familiar hands which shook just like their attached voice.

"Nii-chan?"

She opened her eyes, hissing against the harsh white light. Sasuke slowly came into focus, his face free of the mask and contorted into an expression of worry, thick dark brows furrowed and pale lips thinned and bruised by worrying teeth.

He pressed his forehead against their clasped hands, taking deep, shuddering breaths. She watched his narrow shoulders rise and fall where he kneeled beside her bed. "Hana."

He said her name like a prayer, almost too quiet to hear but loud enough to echo in her soul. It was laden with meaning she wasn't sure she fully understood, but she tried to squeeze his hand, corners of her mouth quirking upward in what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Nii-chan. Hi."

He laughed, breathy and wet, turning watery black eyes on her. "Hi? That's all you have to say?"

Her smile grew of its own accord before fading as her mind began to catch up with her mouth. "What happened? Why are we in the hospital?"

Sasuke's already pale face went as white as a sheet and he looked sharply away from her. His grip on her hand tightened almost painfully, the contact grounding her floaty mind.

"Sasuke," panic began to rise inside her, the heart monitor broadcasting her emotions for the world to hear. "Are you ok? Did something happen?"

The Look™ he shot her made her feel all kinds of stupid and loved at the same time. "Are you serious? I'm not the one strapped to a bed."

Ah. He wasn't, was he? She looked down at the peak in the sheets where her toes were, wiggling them with a concentrated effort.

"The Hokage!" She turned back to him quickly, her brain protesting by throbbing in time with her heart monitor. "Sasuke, the Hokage, is he—?"

He shook his head, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry, Hana. Orochimaru killed him."

Hanako's head fell back into the flat hospital pillow, mind blessedly blank. "After everything I did...Some things can't be changed." She turned to look at Sasuke, taking in the bandages peaking out from beneath his high Uchiha collar. "What happened?"

He didn't look like he wanted to answer that, going visibly green. "I-I'm not sure where to start."

"The beginning is usually a good place."

He huffed at her, a heatless glare livening up his expression. "Shut up. I'm thinking."

"I'll come back tomorrow, then."

He actually looked a little angry, at that. "Are you supposed to be talking this much? The doctor said you'd probably go right back to sleep."

"Oh, so they gave me the good shit. Sweet."

It certainly explained why her brain felt like it was wading through pudding. She watched, bemused, as Sasuke struggled to rein in his laughter. It was still trying to break free and ruin his angsty reputation when he spoke.

"Naruto, Sakura, and I are all alright. Teams Eight and Ten, are, too. Those kids from Suna are in custody, though; that rapping guy from Kumo helped bring them in. He and Naruto keep visiting your redhead friend, but no one really knows what they're talking about—or, they do and they aren't telling me." He grumbled that last bit with a sour expression. "The Raikage is still here, for some reason, and it's making everyone nervous. None of their genin got hurt, so everyone's really suspicious about it."

Huh. Did Gaara not transform?

Sasuke stiffened, dark eyes honing in on her. "H-how did you know about that?"

...Did she say that out loud?

He clenched his jaw. "Yes."

Well, damn.

"Did no one explain it to you?" She asked in lieu of an answer. "With three of them in the village, I figured you, of all people, would be told."

He cocked his head, genuinely confused. "What do you mean? Wasn't it just a freaky transformation jutsu?"

That's what they were going with? Which idiot came up with that?

"Now, now, chibi-chan, there's no need to be rude."

Both children tensed—though for different reasons—as Jiraiya spoke. He was leaning against the doorframe, filling it to the brim. Arms crossed and pale brows furrowed, he looked the picture of a cross grandparent.

"Uchiha-kun, I'm pretty sure you were supposed to tell someone when she woke up, or did I dream your Kage's lecture?"

Kage? There was a new one already? How long had she been asleep? Was Tsunade already in the village?

Questions whirled in her mind even as she struggled to keep her thoughts from pouring out her mouth. She kept her eyes fixed on Jiraiya's chest, not wanting to seem rude but not quite ready to engage in conversation.

"Go on, then. He'll want to hear it from you, and I need to talk to the kid."

Sasuke squeezed her hand one last time before standing, stomping past the Toad Sage with a Glare®. The older man simply shooed him with a swish of his hand, making a face at Sasuke's back as he slid the door to Hanako's room closed.

All levity fled his expression and Hanako swallowed nervously as he trained serious dark eyes on her. This was who he was underneath that goofy mask of his: Konoha's spy master, Sannin, 1/3 of a legendary team and the only one who hadn't ditched his village or his morals.

Such as they were.

He crossed the room, picking up the chair Sasuke had knocked over and taking a seat, resting his elbows on splayed knees.

It must be hard being so tall.

He snorted. "I see they've got you on the good shit."

She smiled at him. "Yeah."

He smiled a bit in response, do doubt amused by her loopy expression. "That's good, it'll make my job easier."

Hm?

"Wanna tell me why your dad thinks your mom's name was Ochako?"

Her heart monitor stalled. Or it should have. It certainly felt like her heart stopped, a cold, dead lump taking its place in her chest. She looked up at the Sannin in horror, her fear likely plain as the nose on her face. He watched her, face like stone as she floundered, sinking sinking sinking into a pit of despair that threatened to swallow her.

Had he told Kakashi? Did he know? Was her dad now not her dad? Had the tenuous trust they'd built over the last six years shattered?

Had she lost the protection of the Hatake Clan? Was she now just a wayward orphan of suspect origins with access to too many secrets?

Was she in danger?

Tears welled up in her eyes, falling over her face to soak the pillow as she looked imploringly up at Jiraiya.

"Please, she croaked. "Don't give me to Danzo."

His face twisted in surprise and she wept, freely and openly. The sorrow that always felt like it was a single raindrop away from drowning her had risen above the fill line, overflowing through her system as her body ached with the force of her sobs.

She was a failure. What was she thinking, scheming against Orochimaru? Against an actual genius? Pretending to be some kind of clan princess, making plans to cement that status and maneuvering people to suit it when she wasn't even from Konoha?

She wasn't even Hanako. Not even Yachiru.

Bethany raised her hands to her face to hide it, missing the comfort of the mask. It wasn't her face, it wasn't her body, it wasn't her world! Why the hell had she tried to change it like it was?

One fist rubbed at her eyes and the other—

She opened her eyes, staring at the empty air where she could have sworn her hand was. She raised her arm, the straight edged stump claiming her attention.

What.

She twisted her arm, tears still falling but with less fanfare as she stared open mouthed at her injury. How had she not noticed this? She'd moved her body like it was whole, completely unprepared for the revelation that it wasn't. She waggled nonexistent fingers, the tendons in her arm answering her call without effect. She could still feel them moving, though, and she sat up abrubtly, Jiraiya reaching out with large hands to stop her.

She reached for her chakra, moving it in the old familiar way. Nothing. No blue glow, no sting of sensitive skin, nothing.

Vaguely she was aware of her heart monitor beeping, a nurse throwing the door open and yelling at Jiraiya who yelled back and got kicked out, firm, no nonsense touches on her face and neck, and low, urgent voices.

She moved her chakra. And moved it and moved it and moved it.

Through it all, Bethany cried.