Four

Warnings/Triggers: Maybe some upsetting triggers this chapter, anxiety and a brief/ suggestion of a panic attack and description /strong. Please, take care, be warned!

AN: I realised I had made a slight flaw: in Deidara being Sasori's partner, Orochimaru can't be – right? Well, maybe (and yes I am probably clashing horribly with some anime video showing/proving he did leave and then Deidara came) not. So, it should go without saying that this is most assuredly not canon-compliant. Orochimaru is a frustrating character to write. I haven't entirely decided on who I think he is, and then – Mitsuki happened, so. I'll see how this goes. Wish me luck! As always, feedback is something I would appreciate – and questions.

Chapter Four

I had no idea what I was doing.

The panicked thought fluttered through my mind, swamping in my chest after having rushed up from my abdomen, my forearms, my fore(were they even called that? Why not?)-legs, my feet. They landed in the soft, mushy space that was where I floated in my mind.

I watched the world from there.

I was not part of it. I took a deep breath and let the shiver run through me. Deep breath. In, hold, 2, 3 - out, 2, 3, 4, 5. Breathe. Just breathe.

Flashback:

I had closed my eyes at some point. Or not opened them yet, grim, grim. I felt...at one...as one, with my mind again. Whole. Aware. Active not passively watching from someplace deep inside. The peace, whilst probably brief, was wonderful. I felt the tingly sensation in my chest, up my throat, behind my eyes and under my lashes.

I imagined the soft pan pipe music - some track, one of many, I'd heard before - and focused on the light coming through my lids. I smiled and opened my eyes.

Warmth (Italics). Warmth; it was everywhere. I am in a glade, a meadow. There are trees - normal, so I am probably somewhere near home, or in the same country - or climate. Autumn colours are abound. It's...lovely to look at. The grass is green and there is no mud. It's not muddy here, yet-

Something sharpens behind my eyes. Have you ever felt that before? It's like the analytical side of your mind comes forth. I looked around. And felt that fade slightly, not to the background as it was before, but...more the middle ground. The sunlight filtered through a bit, and the grey clouds like mist dispersed, as the sun shined upon the dynamics of the sky. The first thing I felt, other than the wave, amongst the tide of anguish filling my throat, sinuses, and eyes, that I had been avoiding - was relief. Horrible, terrible relief.

There was no one here who knew me - no one to use me. No one.

No one I was attached to and couldn't stop myself from helping; no one to spend time with me only for advice, help, attention. I felt my eyes close, the lash-line pressing together tightly, as I tried to reign in the emotions. I was alone. I loved my friends, my family. I still believed in the inherent goodness of people. I knew I did. But...

At this moment in time, I was having difficulty in my belief - my faith, my very perception of the world, the lens with which I judged, weighed, attempted to understand, interpreted, was clouded. I felt a bitter grief and tried to prevent it from twisting my lips, from etching itself on my mouth - or for the sorrow from touching my eyes. For such a thing could be nigh on permanent. I licked my lip. Before biting down. I breathed. Deep, slow. I know people are good inside, unless or until, perhaps, they feel they have gained a reason for not being good anymore - a lot of the whole, the world hurt me, I don't care anymore, sort of thing. But I had spent the last few days thinking about -or trying not to think about, until I couldn't help it anymore- how I longed for a friend...who spent time with me, for me. I wondered once if I stopped helping or giving advice to my friends, how many of them would spend time with me still. Would bother to talk to me, smile, seek my company for company's sake.

I kept putting myself out there - and this sort of line of thought is so oversimplified, biased, negative - isn't it? And it takes up all of your attention, fills the mind, clouds the water that had been so clear in my mind, my inner eye blind. It's a deeep human instinct, or a common one at least, to want to hurt others when we are hurting - maybe because we have to show we are strong despite the hurt, that even though something or someone got through and hurt us, we are still strong; maybe to say 'I am stronger than you [the person they hurt]' or I may have been hurt, but I am still strong; the same wave or like and like thoughts, really. Lashing out. That's not all, or the only reasons why - we hurt and that's not fair or okay, so we want to vent that pain, spread it elsewhere, and we do that by hurting someone to the same level we were hurt - or more, because that's definitely the easiest way to ensure it'll hurt them and not us anymore. Sometimes it aches still, afterwards, and the guilt builds up and horrifies us. Human nature vs individual differences comes into question. Thinking these thoughts - the negative emotional ones, at least, make it harder to be objective, from being subjective, make it harder to find the one truth in the scenario. Or truths. It makes it hard, and that's all I want - the truth. So I had to hold it in. ...and Now, I'm here, in the middle of no-where? Someplace else.

I shouldn't feel happy or relieved, but I do. I do. I can think in peace now and look on the situation from a distance - literally - as I make my way back. I can't change that. I'm not sure it's right – or how wrong it is to feel this way. But it's how I feel. I don't want to be used anymore. I'm not okay with being treated like this anymore, and that's how it is- and that's okay. Not saying my friends use me, exactly, but that they expect it from me – all the time. And it's certainly not an even exchange, with some. It's uneven and wonky and indistinct and they don't talk or visit or any other minutia of things that they do with other 'close' friends; that'd all be okay...as it has been...except I don't want to do that anymore. I can't. I keep putting off my own things, all the time, as if they expect me to be free all of the time; I'm not free or wanting to be the vent-box all of the time. And that's okay. Not all of my friends are like that, either, which is good. I'm just tired. I don't want to have to check myself every moment I'm with them; to want to leave and not be around them anymore, or to become twisted or bitter; or repressed or have any of those 'complicated' negative-positive relationships like I'd read about as a child, and thought, 'that's silly/stupid/why don't they leave them then? They're bad for them!' I didn't want to be passive-aggressive, or become something else – for anyone, like a liar, who uses what are supposed to be good gestures as bad ones with ill intent or makes back-handed compliments, or worse (and I know I can do this): someone who tears down others by pointing out their 'flaws' or inconsistencies to them, shows them their 'cruel' or 'mean' or 'bad' behaviour towards myself to tear them down. I don't want to do that. I could cause complexes, insecurity, sadness, pain, hurt; it's not worth it. Nothing is worth the hurt I can cause. No. Not ever. I will not become that thing who harms their friends. Or anyone –through malicious intent. I will not. There's nothing wrong with wanting to be separate or taking a break from it all, for feeling relief. So what if I feel relieved? I can feel JOY, sheer full-milk-cartons JOY at being by myself and not feel guilty. No guilt; you are human, just like them, and everyone needs breaks. You're an -I open my eyes.

End Flashback

There were very many ways to get killed here, I mused; almost guileless. There were many ways to get killed anywhere. But the probability was perhaps higher here? That I couldn't come to a conclusion about this eased my mind a little, and the main focus of my thoughts became the only focus: tools. I needed tools. For that I needed money, or something to trad- no. Tools for money. First, I plot what I need, where I can probably go to get them and the budget and route, then I can acquire money as I can. My mind, sluggish with the release of tension at a plan, tired, did not see anything wrong with this basic attempt... Money for tools and materials for more tools, then I can see. Hm..What I want: rebreather – definitely, useful and possibly life-saving, Ame and Kiri probably have lots of shops/stalls that sell them where I can pick them up as they're so common, but they're both ninja villages so these shops may be watched...better go to Ame then? But Kiri is also pretty unstable at present...hm. Need to check what point in the timeline I am in.

What else? Need to establish an exercise regimen – being weak here would do me no good. My eyes narrowed, as I dressed. Even if I wished to remain a civilian. ….A network, informal, of sorts, would do some good too. One time being of use would be enough. Huh; one corner of my lips upturned, and I knew a lopsided smile was burgeoning/beckoning, a graceless, crooked, positively dork-ish look on my face (whatever THAT looks like-), I bet plenty of ninjas underestimate the potential and ...yield of a civilian 'network'. Let them. More the shame on them. I let the smirk grace my face as I slipped my sandals onto painted-toed feet, strolling from the room to begin my search.