The following morning Kuina was utterly thrilled. Upon glancing at her beaten-up calendar, she found that the next three days she had no work to speak of. This miraculous event did boost endorphin production in her brain, and for a few moments made the chipping paint on the ceiling and walls look like white marble. The whole world was suddenly beautiful. Peace, like a beacon in the dark, was able to chase the war away from her.

"Off du-ty!" She chanted, skipping around with a pear in her hand, "So…what's on the work-free agenda?" She had to consider it for a moment.

While munching breakfast, Kuina returned to her room and dressed, and then retrieved some money from her cookie-jar stash in the cupboard. First stop on the itinerary was the market.

Food shopping in Mist was a very cruel joke. There were imports of every kind, but the war had made things so incredibly expensive the shelves were always fully stocked. No one bought anything in the village, most often because there were plenty of farmers and civilians to steal from out in the countryside. 'Shinobi always do prefer a free lunch.' She though bitterly.

She flitted from one stand to the next, picking up the usual comestibles, and grudgingly handed over notes to the venders. A shrill laugh caught her attention, and Kuina looked across the street to see a gaggle of children playing ball in the road. Though she normally would have found it endearing, the scene quickly filled her with dread. The children were filthy and their parents were nowhere to be seen. 'I wonder if Kyonjin-sama is aware of this…when is he going to make an effort to protect the people inside his own village?' She personally could not stand the notion of unaccompanied children, since she knew first-hand how hard it could be.

Around the corner in the retail district, or what was left of it, Kuina stopped outside of a shop window. She had a keenness for picking things that would help her career-wise. That could range from things including weaponry, medical supplies, and even attire. Her senses tingled as she spied the knee-high boots on display. Fashioned from thick material, most likely for kunoichi (This is a wise shop-keeper indeed!) these were too valuable to pass by. Her last pair of boots had been ruined by makibishi in a very hairy battle.

Kuina indulged the impulse and went inside. The shopkeeper looked stunned, as if he hadn't had a customer in days. After getting her boots she took pity on the man and bought new arm guards as well. She complimented him on the quality of the equipment, and dropped a hint that she would stop by in the future. Gratitude shown in his eyes as he saw her out.

An aspect of the market she did not like were the hack-merchants who sold all of the war contraband. These curios often got swept up in-between towns from the countryside, stolen or otherwise, and were often repossessed or sold in Mist. Even though she didn't agree with the practice, Kuina still spared a glance at the stands from time to time. Her blood ran cold when she saw a familiar weapon at a station.

It was a twin-handled, marquise-shaped broadsword, uncannily similar in appearance to the one her sensei wielded. Though she hadn't seen the man in a long time (Kyonjin had sent him to spearhead the fighting on the frontlines) she prayed for his safety. Could he have been killed and plundered out in the field? It was highly, highly, improbable that the blade Hiramekarei had left her master's side, so she chose to relax. The pang of fear did make her wonder why he had still agreed to go where the fighting was worst, 'He always was a bit of a lunatic…'

She was wary as she pressed further into the heart of the village with her purchases. Occasionally, as it had happened before, a thief would turn up and try to snatch what he or she could. It was always humiliating to beat up an unsuspecting and desperate homeless person, she thought, and then have to explain to Kyonjin and his officers why she'd done it. If she noticed any lurkers she planned to go by the rooftops.

Kuina did in fact encounter someone on the street, but it was a face she knew well.

"Guo! You're not at work?" She smiled when she saw him, "What are you doing out here?" For a brief moment she expected that his presence could indicate that she was needed at the hospital.

The young medic-nin greeted his superior, "I have to go back in by three, Chief. I was just going to catch some lunch."

She liked his response, "Can I join you? It'll be my treat!"

His cheeks went pinkish, "Well, Senpai…you really don't have to."

"We'll go halves, then?"

Guo agreed to it, and then changed course for a café up the road with Kuina. Since the heat was tolerable and a rare breeze was blowing in from the coast, they opted to eat at an outside table. Kuina stored her bags beneath her chair, and ordered whatever Guo was having when the server arrived.

"Have things been hectic today?" Kuina wondered.

"I wouldn't say so. We set a broken leg, took a young guy into surgery, and did a ton of stitches, but there haven't been any fatalities." Guo sighed heavily, "If only things could be this trivial every day."

"Well what you just described was a standard day at the hospital a few years ago, but that's not the case anymore." Kuina folded her hands in her lap and added, "I don't want to push the blame on anyone, but…Kyonjin-sama doesn't seem to understand that the rebels are sorely lacking medical attention."

"What do you mean?" He sounded unnerved by her comment.

"We fix up our shinobi when they return from the battlefield, but think about those clans….the Kaguya and whoever else…they roll over and die without facilities or ways to fight infection. My point is that their numbers have to dwindle eventually, so it's only a matter of time until this ends, correct?" Kuina elaborated.

Guo scratched his chin, "Hm…well I suppose when you put it that way, that's the logical explanation. But frankly, Kyonjin-sama isn't interested in medical statistics. And it's also possible the rebels have hired outside help in that respect."

"Who would be crazy enough to lend aid to Mist revolutionaries?" Kuina muttered.

"Who knows? Rock and Sand are always looking for a good fight." Guo shrugged.

"They have their own problems, last I checked."

"Name one village that isn't having issues right now, Senpai." He chuckled.

The Leaf Village almost rolled off of her tongue, but Kuina refrained, not wanting to say anything too hasty. Her sister had been living in Leaf for most of her life. According to her previous letter it seemed like the place to be, but Kuina hardly knew a thing about it. She wouldn't want to risk leaving everything she had in Mist to start afresh in a foreign place.

The server came back with their meals, and while they ate Guo prattled on about how things could be improved at the hospital. They needed blood donations, better quality staff, functioning/updated equipment, bigger facilities, and overall, more funds that Kyonjin was resolutely stubborn in supplying. Kuina could only listen distractedly to her friend. An unusual ringing in her ears signaled something; a sense of being watched.

Kuina peeked over her shoulder towards the street, but saw nothing aside from the normal bustle. She took another bite of chicken and tried to listen to Guo. The feeling persisted, and she glanced around expectantly, but could still see nothing suspicious.

"Something wrong, Chief?" Guo finally asked her.

"I just get the impression someone is watching us."

"We might be." He didn't seem bothered by it, "There are creeps everywhere these days."

"You sound like my sensei…"

Guo shuddered at the idea, "Your master wasn't a particularly trustworthy man, can I say, Senpai? That wouldn't be an accurate comparison."

"Oh come on! Higa-sensei may be crazy but it's not like he went AWOL. He's off fighting in the war to protect the village right now." Kuina defended, "You shouldn't listen to the rumors about him."

"Well I have heard quite a bit…" He replied lowly.

Kuina noted that the conversation could take a bad turn. There weren't many that shared her reverence for her master. Since she was for the most part finished with lunch, she excused herself politely, left money for her part of the bill, and went on her way.

After safely returning to her apartment she was able to relax fully. It was about the time she'd be out training or perfecting a new technique, Kuina noted, if not for the fact her team was dead. Her friend, turned teammate, turned lover, had died several years back, and since his death she had fallen out of touch with her teacher in turn. 'Funny how time flies for the broken hearted…'

She was just as comfortable doing a whole lot of nothing for the rest of the afternoon. Kuina refilled her hamster's food bowl absently, and then hovered around her apartment putting away groceries. She let the radio play soft tunes in the background, but she was not moved by the music as she so often was. Her free time didn't mean much to her, she realized in a crushing moment, because there was no longer anyone to share it with. The days were empty, after the war had robbed her of her team.

'I could go looking for Nago and Sashayma…' She thought, 'But their agenda is pretty clear-cut. I don't want to go out drinking or...whatever it is they do these days...' Hopefully not starting more bar-fights, she hoped. It was difficult to avoid bad influences, but she was no saint herself. In the back of her mind, however, there was one possibility Kuina had not yet explored. It would mean going fishing for trouble, of course.

She slipped her shoes back on numbly and left through the window. The heat was staggering, but maybe there would be some chilly relief somewhere.

Four days had dragged by uneventfully, and given Kuina some much needed rest. There hadn't been any emergency calls at the hospital for her, no devastating battles for the village to buzz about, and certainly no fun anywhere one looked. Mist was quickly becoming a black hole for entertainment.

Kuina had gone looking for Kamisori a few times, all in vain, and could only speculate his whereabouts. He was an interesting man to say the least, but Kuina concluded he was not the type that could be found: only encountered. Defeated in her search for a break in the monotony, Kuina reported to the Kyonjin's office on the fourth morning. He was pleased to hear that she had enjoyed her time off.

"Your services aren't required for any of the current missions I have prepared, but I must commend you for teamwork with Hayago a few days ago. You all made an invaluable discovery." Kyonjin told her, his cigarette clipped between his teeth.

"Did we?" She felt that the mission had been more or less a disaster.

"Yes. The Kaguya fled like rats from our counterforce."

Kuina glanced to Hayago where he stood a few feet away. His marred face betrayed no sign of pride over the news of their victory. Maybe he was still troubled about their loss of Oun? He and the young father had been friends for a long time, Kuina knew.

After being dismissed Kuina figured it couldn't hurt to ask Hayago a few questions outside of the office. "You've worked with most of the other jounin, right Hayago?"

He smiled slightly, "I would be the person to talk to about the rest of those fools, yes."

Kuina then didn't hesitate, "So it's possible that you know Kamisori?"

Hayago's orange gaze lingered on her for a long moment. He looked away and then answered, "I have been on a few missions with him. He is an efficient killer who can work very well in a unit, and also loves having women under him." He gave a small sigh, "Kuina…as your friend, I will advise you not to get any ideas about that fellow. His greatest talent, after all, is vanishing."

"I appreciate it." Kuina said, troubled by the information. Her impression had been quite different, but that, she thought, might have been the point.

A short while later she went to work a shift at the hospital with Guo. The week was uncharacteristically lacking chaos, and she wondered if it was possible the rebels had fallen back after the Kaguya's upsetting defeat. Kuina did have a fit when Nago turned up with a black eye.

"What in God's name have you been doing, Nago! Has Sashayma seen this?" Kuina hissed in aggravation, holding a bag of ice to her friend's face, "You better speak up…"

"So I got in another scrap with that butt-licker! Where's the fire, lovey?" Nago said grudgingly.

"Iori, again?"

"Yeah, the one and only fuckface who can terrorize people even after being rejected for his gender." Nago took the bag of ice and held it herself, "Something had to give, Kuina, and it was my fist in his ugly mug!"

"Well I suppose that's adequate justification." Kuina conceded, "Just do me a favor, please, and stay away from dirtbags for a while?"

"My pleasure, love."

After sending Nago straight home with ice and a fairly clean bill of health, Kuina wrapped up her shift. Guo warned her of impending thunderstorms for the evening on her way out. Dark clouds sat motionlessly up above, waiting to burst with hail and lightning. Kuina had initially wanted to make a break for her apartment to take cover, but how could she? After spotting a shock of white hair outside of the armory, she was fairly certain she had found the person she was destined not to find.

She approached cautiously, suddenly and unnecessarily self-conscious. Her hair was tied up in a messy knot, and she still smelled of antiseptic and sanitation chemicals. Kuina smoothed the front of her shirt, glad he hadn't taken notice yet.

Kamisori had been talking to a sword smith, and it looked like they'd just finished making a deal. Once the white haired man had stepped out of the doorway, she gave a small, friendly wave. His eyebrows raised ever so slightly.

"We've been running into each other quite a bit, recently." He observed pleasantly.

"More so in this past month than in other years combined," She agreed, "And I suspect it's because you're following me."

There was a pause, and then his mouth curved into a small smirk, "You think so?"

"I have good evidence: a few days ago when I was shopping I couldn't shake a certain tagger who had more stealth than most of the boobs who normally stalk me." Kuina recounted, then added, "I'd be willing to overlook it if we go for a drink, though."

"Ah, another drink…"

"Yes, but not where we first met, since…some altercations have now left me unwelcome in that establishment." She amended, a bit sheepish.

Kamisori appeared mildly amused, but Kuina sensed something in his attitude that conveyed a lack of interest, or at least…he just didn't care as much as she would've liked.

To her relief, he suggested, "I have a place in mind. Have you eaten yet, Arashino-san?"

Her head nearly spun on her shoulders. She hadn't expected him to remember her name, let alone be so smooth about it. She admitted she had only eaten once that day and before she knew it, they were off to the uptown area; far away from her apartment and with few means to wait out a storm.

His stride was long and catlike, awkward-looking beside her measured, understandably shorter gait. She would have felt horribly inferior next to such a handsome man if not for the fact that he was purely intellectual. Almost immediately Kamisori found a subject they could relate on: the war. He contested the attack strategies employed by the Black Ops, the uneven ratio of shinobi death-toll to the new trainees in Mist, as well as gripes about hopeful drug cartels investing in the rebellion. 'I hadn't even considered that.' She thought to herself, 'How does he know all of this?'

Kuina was thankful she hadn't found a boring person. He was opinionated, to a point, but after a while he stopped talking and started listening. So he was interested after all, she realized. Just shortly after beginning to explain her duties at the hospital they came to the tavern Kamisori had been seeking. They were seated promptly in a corner table just as thunder rolled lowly outside.

"Well, now you know the basics of being a Chief Medical Officer, Kamisori-san," Kuina said brightly, "But I don't know much about what it is that you do. You work for Kyonjin-sama, you said?"

He was thoughtful for a moment, "That's true." He yielded, and took a sip of the wine they'd been served.

"What do loyalists do, exactly?" Kuina wondered.

"What you would expect any traitorous shinobi with a Kekkei Genkai to do: give away his clan's secrets." There was a bitter edge to his tone, "I have information on twelve different clans and families that the Mizukage has declared war on, and it's a wonder how they haven't yet realized how I've betrayed them."

"They don't know?" She was genuinely aghast.

"When you're a double agent, you make it a point to keep your goals ambiguous." Kamisori told her, "You have a much better job than I do, Arashino-san. In your case, you are encouraged to be honest, which is something I envy deeply."

"Please, call me Kuina." She offered, "And don't let dishonesty get you down, you're performing a true service for the Mist Village by infiltrating enemy lines."

His mismatched eyes strayed to the window, where blackness was creeping. "It isn't enemy lines I trespass on, but the defenseless homes of warring families. It's underhanded and duplicitous, and I have not been in an honorable battle since…" He trailed off, "But…yes, I suppose I am doing Kyonjin-sama a huge favor, aren't I?"

"Quite possibly doing all of us a favor." Kuina said, trying to lessen the tension, but in reality she could understood why it was difficult to value a village above one's own clan.

She had a field day keeping up with the man's narrations through dinner. She tried to eat with some dignity, even through the jaw-dropping stories, some of which she doubted the authenticity of, and was bothered to find she had little to offer by way of amazing tales. Kuina had considered mentioning her old team and their antics, but it was a wound she didn't feel like reopening that night.

A flash of lightning arced in the sky, but it still had not begun to rain. They drank round after round, and though Kuina knew better, she found she had fewer inhibitions because she wasn't babysitting Nago, or worrying about being caught in a bar-brawl. She tried some of what Kamisori had been drinking but it was much too strong. She downed a shot of it anyway, enjoying the soft haze drifting in front of her eyes.

Kamisori, infinitely wise, took the glass away from her, "You have spirit, but I don't think you'd want to ruin a perfectly good meal, would you?"

"Point taken." She agreed, unable to hide the ridiculous smile on her face. Was this fun? It had been so long since she had last had any. Her head was spinning, and coupled with the thunder growing ever nearer, Kuina thought it best to set out home. She also had work tomorrow, which was another drawback. She wanted to pay the bill but Kamisori had already picked it up. Outside it was nearly pitch black, with few lights to illuminate the street that was already swirling before her very eyes.

"Where do you live?" He asked, slightly more sober than she, "I'll walk you back, Arashino-san."

"Thank you very much…um…fifth district." She replied, dizzy.

In this state, she concluded that she could be mugged by even a grandmother.

It was nice to walk arm in arm with someone, and Kuina did her best not to humiliate herself in front of the man. Her attempt at small talk wasn't very good, unfortunately.

"Do you have a team, Kamisori?" She muffled a hiccup.

"No longer. I had teammates once. And I used to work with people from my clan, but that's unthinkable these days." He told her, "I am on my own."

"I'm on my own too." She related, "It makes the war seem…that much worse."

Back in the fifth district Kuina managed to locate her street and building, but as rain suddenly came down in a deluge it was hard to navigate afterwards. Kamisori used his blood limit to redirect the downpour from their persons. "Like some invisible umbrella." She had told him in a moment of idiocy.

To her surprise he suggested, "You should take a mission with me."

"I can't…I have work." She protested.

"Suit yourself. As it is, you'll be quite hung-over tomorrow." He pointed out.

"Doesn't matter. Work is work when you're me."

A bolt of lightning caught on a lightning rod across the street with a sickening crash. Kuina stumbled into her building, Kamisori on her heels, and tried her best not to fall up the staircase. She nearly somersaulted into her apartment, but entered with such grace it may have even looked deliberate.

"Could I join you for a cup of tea?" Kamisori asked politely.

"But of course." She lead him inside and shut the door behind them.

He was efficient at drying off. With one swift hand motion Kamisori had collected the rainwater from himself and his companion and compressed it into a sphere. While Kuina regarded the trick interestedly, she decided to be logical. She lifted her tea kettle, "Want to help out?"

Kamisori donated the water for the sake of tea. Kuina had a bit of a time trying to light her stove, and after a few failed attempts, Kamisori aided her, all the while she giggled madly. He seemed to be entertained too.

While they waited for the water to boil, an obscure squeaking sound persisted somewhere in the darkness. "What is that?" He asked, baffled entirely by what it could be.

Kuina of course knew her hamster was going at it again on his wheel, but didn't feel that it was necessary to bring it up. "Don't worry about it." She advised.

He assisted her in finding mugs, and though it took a while, they located a pair of them just as the kettle began to whine. Kuina poured hot water onto their tea leaves, somehow managing not to scald herself. Kamisori thanked her for her generosity, and she nodded vaguely, realizing the tea wasn't helping her rapidly developing headache. She took a seat and sipped gingerly, her good mood starting to waver.

"I drank too much." She sighed resignedly, "And I always do my best not to imbibe, but when I do…"

"What's bothering you?"

"My head."

"Come here." Kamisori set his drink down and skillfully wound his hands near the back of her neck. He worked two pressure points near her nape that would relieve the pain, and it wasn't long before Kuina had melted under his ministrations. A soft sigh escaped her.

She considered letting him continue even after her head cleared up, but Kamisori sat back and regarded her with sleepy eyes, "And now?"

"Better, thank you."

Kuina sat across from the man as they sipped their tea. Lightning crashed dramatically outside, and the faint tinking of hail became audible. "Would you like to stay here until the storm ends, Kamisori-san?" Kuina offered, "I know rain wouldn't really hinder someone like you "

"I don't like lightning." He told her, "And I appreciate your hospitality." He took another sip of tea, training his eyes on the window beyond where the storm raged on.

Kuina stared down into her mug, and for a moment questioned her own actions. 'Of course you're a nice, generous person, no one doubts that…but why would you ask a man to stay here, honestly?' Some small voice of rationality was breaking through the booze-induced fog, 'It's okay to admit you're lonely, and even better that you're finally having fun, but you're considering letting him stay! Considering letting him…'

She looked up from her tea and shook her head, trying to reorder her thoughts. 'You only just met him. He's unique, granted, but remember what Hayago said? He's a player!'

Or at least, that's what Hayago hinted at. He was quite vague, come to think of it. But Kuina still sensed that Kamisori was much more complex than some dime-a-dozen, tail-seeking ninja you could find anywhere in the village.

Complexity didn't necessarily mean he would be any less high-maintenance: not to mention crazy. There was only so much you could tell from a first date, she knew.

'Was that even what it was? A date?' The voice snorted, 'Don't do anything foolish, Arashino!'

Kuina sighed to herself. She was at the point where she could offer the man an umbrella and send him home in the tempest. She was indeed frustrated with her boring life, but she wasn't willing to invite trouble just to shake things up.

"You seem restless." Kamisori spoke up suddenly, snapping her out of her mental argument, "I hope you at least had a good time this evening."

"Of course I did." She said, smiling, "I'm still having a good time, actually."

He smiled slightly, "That's kind of you, though I never count myself as pleasant company."

"Maybe for some, but you're very knowledgeable, and you sure can hold a conversation." Kuina replied brightly, "I hope I wasn't too dull."

His eyes narrowed by the slightest increment, "Oh…you're not dull at all, Arashino-san."

If she recalled correctly, she did give him permission to use her first name. He set his empty tea cup down on the table and crossed to the window, still watching the storm. Kuina did feel slightly edgy, sensing the tension his words had sparked. She needed to say something to try and lighten things up, "Is it improving out there at all?"

"No." He replied. Thunder rolled a few moments later.

Kuina wasn't sure if she'd feel more comfortable sending him home or standing right beside him. She finished her tea and stood, collecting his mug from the table, and went to rinse them in her sink. She had failed to ask him if he'd like some more, but if he'd really been interested he would have asked earlier. She couldn't have been running the water for more than ten seconds before the power cut out. Darkness swallowed the room, and Kuina turned the tap off with a huff, "Crap."

She was a quick thinker, thankfully, and knew there were some spare candles in the topmost cupboards. Of course, being short and temporarily blind, she would have a hell of a time reaching them. "Um, Kamisori-san, could you lend me a hand over here?" She squeaked.

He brushed against her shoulder almost instantly, signaling his presence. "What can I do for you?" He sounded very amused. She took this as a good sign.

"Would you be so kind as to help me find some candles? They're in one of these cabinets…somewhere." When she had said this, she had hoped he could've pulled up a chair for her to stand on, or perhaps, he being taller, scrounge around himself. So when he lifted her up bodily, nearly cracking her head on the ceiling, Kuina was, to say the least, surprised.

Instead of saying something stupid, which she nearly did, Kuina hastily tore open the nearest cabinet and began riffling around. It shouldn't have felt so scintillating to be held, she thought; it was such a meaningless touch. But he was much stronger than she had given him credit for. He held her without complaint for a long while, occasionally chuckling when she cursed or bumped against something.

When her hand finally did close around a fair-sized candle, she drew it back a bit too fast. Her grip slipped and she dropped the blasted thing, hearing it contact the counter first, then hit the floor, and listened as it rolled away in the darkness.

"For God's sake!" She fumed, bracing her hands on Kamisori's shoulders, "I'm so sorry about this. I really wish I wasn't so-" He had set her down again, "Clumsy."

"Don't apologize." He said quietly.

Her hands were still on his shoulders, and the uncomfortable feeling was long gone. "Well I suppose, if it doesn't bother you…" She felt one of his hands rise up from her waist, a finger tracing her jaw delicately. Could he see? She wondered. Or it may have been a stray touch in the dark.

She began to doubt the chances of it all being accidental, especially when she felt his lips press lightly against her cheek. Kuina's breath hitched, 'Oh hell…' and before she could make sense of it, before she could stop it, he was kissing her and she was in no way opposed to it.

Acknowledging that it was a bad idea, Kuina kissed back, as boldly as she dared. There was a shuffling of feet and then they were moving, roaming blindly in the dark, bumping into tabletops and walls and corners, kissing and touching as if they were starved of it. The hamster wheel was still squeaking persistently, and Kuina almost thought to laugh in that moment, but Kamisori was all over her.

Finally Kuina's back hit a wall, and the shinobi she'd had dinner with pressed her against it, kissing the corners of her mouth gently. He wasn't as tough as he had let on, she figured, a fact that brought her a great deal of relief. To her left she noted the doorway that led to the bathroom, and to her right was the door to her bedroom. Knowing she'd probably kick herself for doing it later, she pulled him to the right.

By morning the storm had passed. Kuina woke slowly with a wordless groan, her head muddled with an unwelcome hangover. She noted, with half-open eyes, that her sheets were twisted rather peculiarly around her legs, 'Now how…?' and that she was quite naked, 'Wait a second!' and sat up immediately, her hair stuck up at odd angles.

The space beside her that had once been occupied was now empty. She propped her chin up with her hand and let out a long sigh. 'Well, I knew from the start it wouldn't end well.' Kuina thought sourly, 'Can't get your dreams in this village…hm…I wonder how long it took before he bolted?' There was no way to tell, as it was, she hardly knew a thing about such encounters. Her first and last one-night stand.

In hindsight, she found as she stood and made her bed, it had all been rather stupid. Kamisori was attractive, of course, but in more ways than one. She would have preferred to hold off on things if there was a chance she could have just been his friend. Friendship had a better shelf-life, she believed. Now she'd be lucky to ever see him again, Kuina thought, since it was tough enough running into him by chance. She didn't see the point in blaming herself, however, since she had no prior experience with such things.

Deciding to not take it personally, Kuina fished some fresh clothes from her closet and dressed. She stretched as she walked half-awake down the hall, and after rounding the corner she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Kamisori was standing in her kitchen.

She stood flummoxed, mouth agape, and watched as he made two cups of tea. Kuina lightly slapped her face a few times before deciding the scene was rooted in reality. It did help that he was fully dressed. 'He must be a morning person.' She figured.

Kamisori faced her after a moment, his expression smug, "I like your hair."

Kuina hurriedly combed her fingers through it, mortified.

He waved off her concerns. "Come sit down." He told her. She did just that. She took a seat across from him at the table and thanked him for the tea.

"You didn't mention you had a pet." He gestured towards the hamster cage in the other room.

"Ah, well…all that squeaking last night…I thought it'd be a turn off." Kuina took a slurp of her drink, wishing she wasn't so damn honest all the time.

He smiled a dastardly smile, "It was no such distraction."

Her face heated up. Maybe now was the best time to speak candidly? Kuina cleared her throat before asking, "Please don't take this badly, but…why are you still here?"

Kamisori's blue eyes met with hers, clear and searching. "I have not met anyone like you." His expression was mischievous, "Did you expect to brush off this encounter? I was under the impression that the attraction was mutual."

"N-No! Of course I like you!" Kuina raised her hands up in defense, "It's just that…I'm surprised…I'm not exactly the kind of woman that men chase after."

Kamisori remained silent, and she hoped that wasn't his way of agreeing. She sipped her tea, aware that he was thinking about something.

What she was feeling then felt an awful lot like what she had felt a few years earlier. The sensation of rising so rapidly that her stomach did loops…followed by crushing disappointment and heartache. 'If I am actually…going to go through with this…I am setting up ground rules now!' She thought to herself, 'I will not repeat what happened last time.'

"Kamisori?" His gaze returned to her when she spoke, "Listen, there's no way I can put this articulately so I'm just going to say it: if you're…trying to mess with my head, or finances, or career…just leave now. I'm not going to make time for anyone two-faced. I've had my share of…bad experiences…and quite frankly, not one among your gender has redeemed men in my eyes so far."

"Ah…" He considered what she had said, then replied, "You are making a perfectly reasonable request. Though on what grounds, may I ask, do you distrust me?"

"Well Hayago informed me that-"

"Hayago is one of your friends?" Kamisori frowned a bit, "He is not very fond of me."

"He indeed made that clear…" Kuina agreed, rubbing her forehead as it began to throb.

Kamisori leaned on the table, "If your hesitation is a question of faithfulness then you needn't worry." He was smirking, "You have easily engaged my devotion."

She laughed, "Smooth! But unlike most women I-" Kamisori interrupted her, looming over her in a way that mandated her full attention.

"If I may now be frank with you, Kuina, it sounds to me as if you are comparing yourself to other women of this village…" He had an affinity for making a point, "May I be so bold as to say that what you are thinking is utter nonsense, and that if you would be willing to take on a challenge such as myself I can make it worth your while for a very long time."

Kuina felt the uncertain tingling feeling in her stomach subside into a thrilled hum.

"Well when you put it that way…" She sipped her tea, grinning to herself, "I really can't afford to argue with you…"

His strange eyes were boring holes into her head, and when she met them with her own stare his mouth contacted hers almost instantly. Kuina kissed back gingerly, her head swimming with a mixture of hangover and euphoria. She pushed against his shoulders, mentioning, "I'm…going to work."

His eyes were still closed, intent on continuing the kiss. Kamisori's face hovered near hers for a tantalizing moment before he drew back, sighing with minor frustration.

"Hey, is it too much to ask if…" Kuina's paused, her eyebrows knitting, "If when I get back later...you'll be here?"

Kamisori finished his tea, watching her.

"I can accommodate you."

Zabuza did not have time to prepare when a member of his Black Ops squadron appeared in his apartment. He was no fan of other shinobi showing up at random, but he had no control over it. Not much topped the easy living of government-provided housing. After throwing on a flak vest and seizing the Seversword out of habit, Zabuza set out. He understood that the meeting was meant to be informative and not a briefing for a mission. The Mizukage obviously wanted everyone of consequence in attendance.

The heat was oppressive in the administration office. Several Jounin and Black Ops were present, having just received the word as well. Zabuza stood off to the side of the room, keeping his eyes fixed on Kyonjin as the lump of a man leaned on his desk and lit a cigarette.

The Mizukage exhaled a gray line of smoke before addressing his shinobi, "I am going to cut straight to the chase of why you're here. I congratulate all of you for coordinating and successfully driving back the rebellion threat that surfaced this past week. However, part of the attack force that drove out the Kaguya regiment, as you know, suffered casualties. There was only one captured, and interestingly enough…it was our own loyalist Kaguya Shon."

A ripple of suspicious murmuring coursed through the cramped space. Zabuza did not react outwardly, but was still taken aback. Shon had been a member of the Seven Swords. More importantly, he had been one of the few members Zabuza had respected. The Kaguya clan was probably making a statement of some kind by leaving one of their own, however disloyal, alive.

Zabuza glanced toward the back of the room to where Kurosuki Raiga was standing. Another former member of the Swords, about Zabuza's age. Zabuza considered him dense, fidgety, and unable to think for himself without direct leadership. Worse still was that once the Swords had been disbanded, Raiga had not been too broken up about it. He had almost immediately sworn himself into the Hunter-nin Division for a cozy, lap-dog lifestyle and quickly dusted his hands of his former teammates. After a few beats Zabuza returned his attention to the front of the room.

Kyonjin continued, "This incident has proven to be advantageous. With the Kaguya domain exposed, Mist will be able to exploit their lowered defenses. Sufficient intelligence has been projected to be gathered within the month, and with that data a task force will be sent to accompany Utakata. Once the Kaguya have been eliminated, the remaining clans will soon follow…"

Zabuza restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Sending Utakata would be effective…provided his auxiliary team got him into the Kaguya fortress alive.

A few reports followed up Kyonjin's announcement before all were dismissed. One of the Water Country's diplomats who had been present at the meeting suggested the shinobi get vaccinated in the tower lobby, "Half of the village is suffering already…"

The ninja moved out, but only a handful took the stairwell down to the lobby. Zabuza caught the eye of Kamisori, one of the elder members of the Swords, though he no longer carried his blade with him. Zabuza felt utterly neutral about the white haired loyalist, and on a good day maybe even a shred of camaraderie for him. His arms were crossed and he wore a dark look. He nodded slowly when Zabuza came to stand by him.

"I suspected they might pull a stunt like this…" He smirked wickedly at Zabuza, "We are very decent bait, aren't we?"

"Shon does not fall into that category…" Zabuza disagreed, "He could kill them all himself…he wouldn't have gotten dragged back to that hell-hole without a reason."

"Because Kyonjin probably ordered him to surrender. He would not hesitate to oblige such a request." Kamisori speculated, "I, on the other hand, would not approve of becoming a lure for the Yuki. Hopefully Mizukage-sama will think better of repeating the strategy with other clans…"

Zabuza gave a hoarse, bark of a laugh at the thought.

"You've been well it seems, Zabuza...staying out of trouble." The white haired nin observed, "I'm surprised you haven't started an uproar about the Mizukage by now."

Beneath bandages his mouth drew into a grimace, "Don't hold your breath. I was through with Kyonjin the moment he sat his fat ass down in that office chair…"

"You are still young and rash, I see."

"I can't take him out on my own. He's too heavily guarded." Zabuza announced quietly, "I need someone I can trust to make sure a coup goes our way…"

Kamisori sighed heavily. Of course he would want to overthrow the Fourth now. Back when the Seven Swords had been ordered to disband, it had just not been a viable option to kill the new leader…and risk incurring the combined wrath of the desperate inhabitants of the Mist Village. 'And now all this time later, as we have seen the full extent of his incompetence…it's too late to act. The Seven are scattered and weak. It would take too much time and effort to coordinate a coup d'état…'

Zabuza gave Kamisori a sharp look, "What? You can't seriously be content with that shit-for-brains politician!"

"Certainly not. I think he is a self-serving fool who has botched the recovery of our village." Kamisori ran his hand through his hair, frustrated, considering a response that would not discourage his old comrade.

"I will…" Kamisori lowered his voice, sure to not be overheard, "…help you however I can, though it will be on my terms. It is going to take some time before we can satisfactorily destroy the Mizukage." He chuckled darkly adding, "And it also depends on my returning to this village alive."

Zabuza was silent, waiting for an explanation.

"In four weeks I am expected to report back to the Yuki house." Kamisori clarified, "By now they ought to suspect something. I imagine that I might be rudely welcomed upon my return."

"You're still trying to keep up that charade?"

"For a month longer than I was meant to."

The younger shinobi shook his head, knowing it was a gamble. It was almost painfully obvious that Kamisori was siding with Mist, and there was likely no way he could justify his extended absence to his clan.

Kamisori added, "I do have one idea…one that might eliminate the suspicions of the Yuki."

"Yeah, and they'll see right through you…"

"No…I assure you, Zabuza, it's nothing that you'd ever dream up yourself." The white haired nin simpered.

"Whatever."

Kamisori adjusted the sleeves of his gi, concluding, "Keep me informed of Shon's condition. We'll discuss the takeover plan within a month, hopefully, but I can't stay."

Zabuza gave him a prying look, "Leaving already? What mission were you assigned to?"

"No mission." Kamisori said, turning to leave, "I am expected to be somewhere shortly."

The white haired man departed, leaving promptly through an upper level exit of the tower. Zabuza stood in the empty hallway for a lulling moment. He had forgotten that Kamisori, while he was older, wiser, and skilled, could at times say the most annoying shit. He made a low sound of exasperation in his throat before moving to the stairwell.

Down in the lobby several jounin had already been vaccinated and were leaving the tower. Two medic nin were present. One of them was the blue haired medic Zabuza recalled seeing report to Kyonjin frequently, and held the title "Chief Medical Officer." 'Just another way to refer to one of his favorite pawns.'

Zabuza stepped up to the table and the squirrelly man asked for his name, allergies, and requested his signature. A moment later he was seated and the Chief Medic sterilized a spot on his arm with a swab.

She smiled at him, "Well you never miss a vaccination, do you, Momochi-san?" She injected him expertly, and re-swabbed him within a second.

He grunted, not interested in conversing. It was true. He never missed one. But the medic was so outgoing that it was difficult to look her in the face. She was not annoying, if he recalled, but he didn't like how she remembered everything and how she was so…relentlessly polite. It was just downright weird and uncharacteristic of Mist.

"Good. Consider yourself armed and ready against this season's influenza. It'll be much worse by autumn." The Chief nodded, bid him good day, and then moved on to the chunin waiting in line.

Zabuza's gaze flicked to the building's exit, and clearly visible through the glass beside the doorway; smoke was rising from the street. He crossed over to the door and lingered, watching in a moment of confusion as rubble rained down from an adjacent building. After a moment it registered that some sort of battle was taking place, but not before the old jounin he knew was called Hayago had raced past him into the road, warning of an attack.

Quick on Hayago's heels was the Chief Medic, and then Zabuza moved, knowing it never did any good to rush into anything blindly.

An exchange of jutsu unfolded before his eyes and Zabuza leapt with stoat-like agility, his instincts demanding that he reach higher ground. Flames streaked along the road and pedestrians dove for cover. Hayago responded by firing water jutsu back at the attacker on a railed rooftop. Pressurized jets burst from the decorative koi pool beside the Administrative building, just barely missing the unidentified rogue.

The assailant had a partner down on the street, and Zabuza could see the medic had quickly discovered him. She clashed with the unknown shinobi, capably wheeling a chain scythe and maneuvering her opponent away from civilians. Zabuza swiftly caught up with the ninja racing over the rooftops as he was chased by Hayago's water assault.

Zabuza evaded as fire jutsu rushed at him. It was a simple matter of distracting the enemy with a water clone before he came up from behind the strained rogue. Zabuza tore a crippling gash in his back with a swipe of his blade, and the outsider folded like a piece of snipped ribbon. Hayago's jutsu immediately subsided, and the veteran rushed to help the Chief Medic finish off the other intruder.

With a snarl Zabuza kicked the dead rogue off of the rooftop. The body fell to the sidewalk; limbs askew and blood everywhere. He descended down to ground level as citizens began to peek out from their temporary shelters. Nearby, the Councilor's building was smoldering and Zabuza guessed the saboteurs had set a bomb off in the hopes of eliminating someone important. They had paid a very heavy price.

The second unknown shinobi was unconscious and bound in chains, likely to be kept for questioning. Hayago was barking orders at approaching chunin to report to the Mizukage.

Kuina walked over to the shinobi Zabuza had slain. She wore a disappointed look, "It's weird…"

Zabuza slung his Seversword onto his back, looking at her. "What is?" He grunted.

Kuina gestured to the fallen rogue, "Just before I had vaccinated the both of them…fat lot of good that did…"