Notes: I'm alive! No, that's a lie, I'm dead. Undergraduate thesis defense – my very own beloved virus-producing transgenic plants! – just killed me. Because I'm an idiot who had to graduate as soon as I could manage. Nailed my own coffin, dug my own grave. This is a post-mortem repartee.

To everyone who'd been so nice – okay, okay, not another self-deprecating peep. Thank you for pointing out that I was being a brat.

In this chapter: Training, brawling, relatively, blatant fabrication of Akatsuki history and other… idiotic things including OOC Kakuzu and a decent Hidan. ItaHina that's hopefully not as cracky as the last [this chapter is not funny at all :(]. Immature and brutally ugly poetry. Written, hacked apart and ungainly inserted.

Sailing right into OOC territory, but I've stopped caring.

Disclaimers: Not mine.

Alternative Chapter Title: What Ye Jolly Akatsuki Does On Days That Aren't Slated For Killing, Raiding, Spying And Generally Balancing Out All The Good In The Universe (…ooh, that's a doozy.)


Life at sea… was gloriously hard.

Especially at present when they were in the open ocean, surrounded by nothing by vast blue gray sea and open skies, sailing so fast you'd think they'd have reached (and fallen off) the end of the world by now.

How did Neji, who had nearly the same pampered in terra upbringing she had, ever get used to it?

(But then again, she could swear she heard him break out in a chorus of Hallelujah's after his first voyage but discounted it. Not her chillingly formal cousin. Now she knew it had been entirely possible.)

It had been only a little more than a week and she was already very nearly at the end of her tether at the wretchedness of their conditions. Everything stank of hardship and scarcity and oily fish.

Gawd, she actually wanted to cry.

Food: If she and Itachi hadn't stopped for supplies, if Konan hadn't warned her to start skimping on meals and if Kisame didn't catch them some doubtful aquatic species so Hinata could prepare them fish-ala-Ciguatera, they would have been starving… two days ago.

It was only a matter of time before they degenerate back to survival-of-the-fittest mode and go competitively militant, even her. Hinata had never quite known starvation before. It was a dreadfully tactile sensation that made her want to go primal.

Water: Fresh, clean water seemed like a distant memory. What they had instead were barrels upon barrels of rum and ale, vats of collected rainwater and an ocean-full of cold, microbe-rich saltwater. Hinata's mind would longingly skip back to the happy days where she drank cup after cup of wonderfully clean tea with the ladies, waiting patiently for someone's bladder to perforate.

Weather: In the past few days, they'd been followed by a small but viciously unrelenting squall. Lookout duty had been bitter cold nights in the drizzling rain, fighting to maintain visibility while water ran in rivulets down her face. Every morning when she came down from the crow's nest, Hinata was all stuffy noses and sore muscles and fever-induced delirium. She just might die of pneumonia and nobody cared. (Hell, they might celebrate, more food for them.)

Did they think she was Hidan – who was either indeed under some Jashin-granted protection or had the most robust immune system ever built?

But more than all that, it was the change in the psychological atmosphere that had Hinata near breathless with anxiety-but-actually-looming-insanity as the expanse of ocean just grew and grew and grew.

The paranoia.

The isolation.

The feeling of smallness and sheer vulnerability.

For someone who was used to land, being this close to the elements with only a handful of ruthless men she could (or more likely, could not) depend on, it was getting a little phobic.

Lost at sea without a mooring. Halfway across the world from the home she'd always known.

It made her a little (a lot) desperate for human contact – no matter how objectionable current options were – to, you know, make sure she hadn't actually gone comatose.

Hinata lamented her luck that she just had to be one of the rare, rare strays they brought along on these unbelievably putridly awful seafaring journeys. If she knew it was going to be like this…

Hinata sighed in resignation.

Well, it wasn't as though she could change anything, considering the way she'd been bulldozed into nearly everything.

On the plus side, and this was a very relative plus side (the same way consorting with Ye Jolly Akatsuki was relatively risky), the waves of terror had receded and her near-primal survival instincts finally took a rest as she grew fully-desensitized to the crew's eccentrics. Yes, eccentrics – sheer proof of lackadaisical numbness if she ever needed it.

What she was doing, nothing short of kamikaze.

(If she ever got home, she'll probably never fear anything, short of a civil uprising, again.)

In fact, she could almost feel her personality bleeding through the full-scale armor she'd erected of soft-spoken politeness and sheer pimping to their satisfaction. The first she'd always somewhat been, the second was something a little more new.

Now, she was attempting to be sincerely pleasant to everyone – with the ulterior motive of waiting until their relationship were nice and gooey-warm and asking to be let go. (Nicely, no hard feelings, will write you often.)

A Herculean task, but since when had she ever balked at those?

(Many times actually, but she carried them out regardless.)

Her first crack at fitting in – admittedly not one of her better ideas – had been spotted immediately.

"M-m-motherf-fucker." Oh dear god, forgive me, my dear sweet mother for invoking you in the most horrid manner.

"Hinata, you realize you look rather desperate when you swear like that." Amused derision colored his tone.

"What the h-h-hell do you mean, Sasori?" Hinata asked as glibly as she could manage, brushing back her hair from her face the way she'd seen Hidan do.

(Mental-Neji hissed like an angry cat at her deteriorating civility.)

"Doesn't suit you, yeah?" Deidara looked up from where he'd been thoroughly examining a new cannonball prototype. "Why the hell would anyone want to fit in, yeah? Stand out, that's what I say."

"And if you must try, I must beg you not to choose Hidan, of all people, to emulate."

"Or Tobi, for that matter, yeah?" Deidara made sure.

Her first try at establishing open communication lines hadn't worked very well either. You might even say it was such an unmitigated failure that there should have been fireworks.

Because, in the middle of chattering for all she was worth about some unconventional history (a topic she'd anticipated he'd at least be mildly interested in, given how even her most apathetic male consorts took some pleasure in discussing it), Itachi interrupted.

"Hinata, you should know I do not really care."

How rude. Itachi was not really the best choice for conversation, ne?

She'd tried to reminisce with them.

That ended up well.

She couldn't even bring up the phrase fond memories without conjuring up a sudden feeling of dread in her throat. Because she really didn't want to know what they might consider fond memories and because her fond memories might let them know a little too much.

It was a little hard troubling your true identity becomes a hazard.

Slowly however, through much painstaking observation and careful poking around using the best of Hyuuga wiles, she'd learnt bits and pieces about the crew and their dynamics (appallingly atrocious – there were so many personal vendettas it was a wonder how they ever got their act together and became so successful).

She tried to tell herself it was still intel for her beloved cousin but that was bordering a little on self-delusion. She probably won't ever tell – unless such knowledge like Deidara's ears went red when he was truly angry – saved a life or something.

Whenever she asked around, even so very casually, about their current destination (assuming they had one) or long-term plans (To help! To help!), their expressions grew shuttered.

Not enough clearance.

Yes, she really was the most horrid comrade and double agent ever.


The first really valuable piece of information she'd learned… was something so thoroughly personal that she really didn't know what to do with it.

Kisame's story came right out of the blue.

Well, not really.

Here were the events leading up to it: Kisame reeling in another malformed sea-beast, Hidan and sea-beast thoroughly hacking away at each other (Pein was right – Hidan was getting restless – what else can you expect from a man who was so thoroughly hedonist but remained celibate), Hinata mindlessly commenting on the barbarism of it all.

"It's not barbaric," Kisame growled in disagreement, looking amused at having to use such a sissy word. "It's just nature – we have to eat. True savages, Hinata, they're the ones who sit up in noble thrones and lie through their teeth about everything."

Ah, several of her esteemed ancestors had just been called savage.

"Thinking men are the true beasts, because their crimes are out of malice. They have no excuse to be cruel."

It's not that simple, Kisame. Hinata wanted to defend. Not everyone is like that.

Kisame mentioned a name Hinata might possibly had heard of, the Mizu Daimyo. Where had she heard it?

"He had this sicko system for choosing his ranks – letting kids kill other kids to prove their strength? He treated everyone like damn animals. Others and myself rebelled at that since, you should know, there's a difference between honorable killing and just plain slaughtering."

Was there? Hinata asked inwardly, more than a little freaked out. This was not a conversation to be having over fish-gutting (a frightfully messy but necessary task).

"He started this dirty set-up to get us all killed. It was pretty good actually, even if I didn't think so at the time, while I was drowning like that," Kisame grinned in belated appreciation at the too-brutal scheme. "I've always had more energy than any man should have. Swam for fucking days to get to land. Of course, I went back and killed him – guy had it coming."

Ah yes. Now Hinata remembered where she heard the name: amid horror-struck whispers among the nobles.

(In the Mizu orphanages, there were songs of jubilance. He's dead! He's dead! The tyrant is deeeee-eeead!)

"Got me in trouble with Kiri, that one. He was one of their land connections." Kisame whistled. "And that's when the Akatsuki picked me up. 'Course, not in the way you pick people up. My ribs just about stopped hurting from this morning."

Hinata flustered red at the reminder that Konan was not above showing her all the dirty tricks of the trade.

Of all the uncouth things to say.


Hinata sometimes wondered if she should write an autobiography: My Days with Ye Jolly Akatsuki.

(Subtitle: I have no clue as to how I survived one murderous plot after another.)

She'd jam it into an old bottle and toss it overboard for it to be archived and read and used as bedtime stories everywhere to scare children into being good and running at the first sight of the red-cloud insignia.

Let her be an example of what happens if they didn't.

Of course, with her luck, it would never be found or, if it was, it would be by an illiterate scoundrel who'd use it for to build a fire or as an...

"Asswipe!" Hidan yelled from somewhere beyond. Hinata covered her ears.

Anyway, she could even write it in verse:

Foolish young lass of golden birth

Showed awful judgment and went up North

Panicked incoherent at first signs

Classic reaction of whom fate maligns

No (FREAKING) idea what had been attractive

But was suddenly taken captive

Stupefied with fright at her ridiculous folly

To be in the arms of Ye Akatsuki Jolly

A shark, a nut, a bomber crazy

A stony bastard, a genius, a man mad for money

A good boy, the captain and his… lady fair?

They deemed the lass worth a dare

She'll prove it true, this (unbelievably) insane ("Ass!" went Hidan's yell) lass

Take up the (figurative) sword and throw away class

Prove she wasn't theirs to (kill) mock

Be strong and steady as a…

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCKKK!" Hidan's scream reverberated through the ship as a humongous mutant crab clamped down on him.

"…rock." Hinata sighed out loud at the profanities being grated out in excellent vocal range.


And then, perhaps seeing Hinata try and try and pitying her as she fell flat on her face every time, Konan had them doing mandatory bonding activities. It was nice to know someone heeded her efforts.

Hinata could have loved Konan forever right then.

But she didn't. Because the blue-haired woman had them training.

Training. What an awful concept. It felt very much like a noose tightening round her neck.

"T-t-train? Me?! With w-weapons?!" Hinata almost whimpered, wondering what she had done now to deserve this promotion as Konan called it.

It's rare that the crew's willing to do this, Hinata. Just think, you'll be learning from the best there is.

Really. Hinata would rather jump over the side of the ship.


Hidan was all sunbaked and righteous that next morning, a barrel of scimitars and pommel sabers and katanas beside him, some dusty and some blood-crusted and some all bent out of shape.

She should've known they wouldn't be using wooden practice swords. But somehow, she'd still hoped. It was the optimism of the terminally insane.

"Is this t-truly necessary, Hidan? I'm not one for melee c-combat." She asked in a sapless voice. "Perhaps a-archery?"

Long range, yeah, long range was good.

Hidan didn't offer her an answer other than tossing her a sword, one sharp enough to embed itself into the wood of the ship after she barely ducked it.

Hinata and pointy things that were more (or less) than a foot in length did not get along.

"You'd be fucking lucky if you even manage strong the bow before someone has your ass on a platter. I really don't care if you get yourself killed or whatever, girly, but that first outing? It could have been fucking disastrous. If the other shitheads think you're with Akatsuki now, and you go down easily… well damn if I'm gonna let that happen. You'll ruin our reputation." He directed the scythe to her face in challenge, gripping it so carelessly it may as well have been a peacock feather. "Let's see how fucking pathetic you are."

That's not a very nice attitude for a sensei.

From blathering out encouragement, Hidan went straight to attempted exsanguinations.

Hinata immediately jumped away in a noteworthy terpsichorean performance but, because of Hidan's surprising agility, it didn't do her any good.

She dodged just in time to avoid being mortally lacerated.

"Use the sword, dumbass." Hidan instructed as he continued chipping the deck where her head used to be as he and Hinata moved in an unreservedly graceless dance of strikes and sidesteps.

Hinata's blade, of course, was still jutting out from where Hidan had thrown it, waiting for her like an Excalibur.

Mental-Neji and mental-Sasuke were squawking as though it were their skins on the line.

Duck, Hinata-sama, duck!!

Hinata, jump away!

There's an opening!

Grab the sword!

It wouldn't budge. King Arthur she was not.

"Now, girly, first you should know what to do with the heathen bastard – do you kill him or do you just take his fucking head off?" Hidan started to say as he continued landing blows in an incredibly flippant manner. "But to lose to the likes of you…"

Here he sneered very unflatteringly at her petite, almost delicate build.

"They'll likely throw themselves off a goddamn cliff in shame – so you just kill, okay? Mortals have no damn right to grant mercy anyway." Hidan paused as his weapon nicked something fleshy. "Shucks, I got first blood and I wasn't even aiming. Go for the kill, girly, dish out all you've got, I can fucking take it."

Hinata stared in horror at the shallow-blooming-red cut in her arm which, with her luck, will probably turn gangrenous.

"Now, you should aim for the vitals. Those miserable assholes won't know what hit them – Well, they would but it wouldn't matter a damn anymore." Hidan paused for a second in recollection. "Liver. Lungs. Spine. Clavical vein. Jugular. Brain. Kidneys. And of course the fucking heart." With every vital point he enumerated, he had used the scythe to hit the corresponding part on Hinata, who had to grit her teeth to keep from crying out.

Amazingly, it was, in all probability, his illogical means of making sure she wouldn't forget the target spots. Well, she certainly wouldn't now – the bruising was undoubtedly going to last for days.

(As long as he was using the blunt end of the scythe, she wasn't going to scream. If he ever switched to the other end, she'd break his eardrums as her last act on earth, promise of a lifetime.)

Now, Hinata-sama! Was it her dizzily swaying head or was mental-acerbic-Neji sounding pained? Trip him now!

It was likely the former, because she was still disoriented enough to listen to the dicey suggestion. Very quickly, she shot out her foot, caught Hidan behind the knee and sent him sprawling.

Over his own weapon. In terms of drawing blood, they were even.

"Well, this is fucking interesting." Hidan grinned ferally as he shot up, unaffected as you please by the impaling. "You're not as bad as I thought. You want to hoist it up to a whole 'nother level, girly? Just say the word."

Hinata clamped her jaws shut, because he'll misconstrue any sound from her lips as confirmation. She had barely dodging his blows as it was, even with the help of her thankfully battle-experienced mental wraiths, and she'd already lost more than a few precious strands of hair in the aftermath of his swings.

"Tch." Hidan clucked in disappointment.

After a half-hour of sparring that went this close to being a case of accidental homicide, Hinata was ready to grovel at Hidan's feet for them to stop. She was tired, bleeding herself dry and looked a good imitation of things that go through shredders.

"Although we've still a fucking long way to go," Hidan began generously, his words contributing much to Hinata's unending dismay. "You are strong where it matters most."

Hinata blinked. The wounds suddenly seemed less painful. "Really?"

"How the hell should I know? I just fucking read it somewhere – thought it was something a milquetoast like you could appreciate. You damn pansies and your stupid sayings annoy me."

Hinata's first thought: You READ?!

Hinata's next thought: Thanks, Hidan.


Konan's idea of crew bonding was an unending cycle of torment and suffering.

It was very much based on hell. For a woman who, shockingly enough, liked angels - she knew well how to made a good imitation of the other place.

For a moment, Hinata felt a rush of skittishness when she saw it was still Hidan standing there, his figure a little obscured by the mist (overcast skies today, that dastardly squall had found them.).

She felt a sudden need to feign sick (reconsidered due to recollection of that last panacea, which was more lethally potent than the original pathogen – guaranteed to kill the germs, with the unfortunate effect of also eradicating the patient).

"You'll have to work with obnoxious heathens today, bitch – sorry to break your heart."

He'd broken that already, thank you very much, with a painful jab bad enough to reach from sternum to spine. Her heart hadn't stood a chance.

As opposed to religious headcases? It might be preferable.

"Oi, Kakuzu! Hurry the fuck up! Your beloved gold can stand a day without seeing your face!" Hidan bellowed, clear as bells amid the roaring of the ship as it sailed over gray, murky water. "In fact, I bet they'd be glad for it!"

Kakuzu lumbered towards them, carting an assortment of handguns, pistols and what might possibly be cannons in miniature. Hinata's eyes bulged.

All she needed to croak now was a stray bullet to any of the ghastly purple hit-me-here-and-I-might-die spots Hidan inflicted yesterday.

"Focus, Hinata. Don't think on anything else, even on that loud retarded asshole behind you."

Hinata, who now had an audacious amount of know-how with regards to dismantling and loading firearms, flinched as the said asshole spoke up.

"Way to get her killed, Kakuzu. Stay fucking riveted to this, bitch, and wait for someone to catch you from behind."

"Still at aiming stage, Hidan."

"Fuck, you're coddling her." Hidan groused caustically. "Are you seriously gonna go through that bit step-by-fucking-step?"

"Ignore him, Hinata. The bastard has attention issues." (Hidan yelped in outrage.)

Hinata concentrated so hard on the marks floating on the water – junk Kakuzu tossed overboard for target practice, because while Hidan was tempting, he was a moving target – that she thought the veins around her eyes might pop.

She shot in a burst of sound and gunfire smoke.

The recoil nearly twisted her arm off.

It wasn't pinpoint accuracy, but the shot connected. In fact, it ricocheted and bits of shrapnel flew everywhere, nabbing them innocent fishy by-standers for dinner.

Stellar vision saves the day again.

Was this what Neji meant when he said he got by on natural advantage? She'd thought he'd been – erm – bragging again.

Kakuzu (might have) looked approving. "Not one of those who have to be at point-blank range to get a hit in, eh Hidan?"

Hidan must have been a lousy shot because he threw both of them a dirty look.

"Too bad you're only good for close combat, Hidan." There was a hint of relish in Kakuzu's voice. "Remember when you got yourself riddled with bullets before you even got close? Nearly ran out of thread sewing your ass back together."

"D-did it hurt?" Hinata asked, rather foolishly, before she could stop herself.

"After three rounds to the chest? He was too far gone to feel a thing."

Ah, such a dramatic story behind those scars. Her knees suddenly felt weak.

"I-I don't think I can do this, Kakuzu," The gun slipped from her limp hand. Of course, being constructed by an improvising amateur and still loaded, it fired, the slug missing Hidan by a few inches.

"Look who's blessed today," Kakuzu remarked sardonically.

Hidan scowled at what could rightfully be perceived as a razz to his faith. "Damn Kakuzu, you have gone so far off the heathen end that even Jashin-sama can't save you now."

He snapped to Hinata, not at all pleased by her lack of alacrity. "And you, girly! Stop acting weak!"

Who's acting?!

"Tch, you are." Kakuzu impressively answered her silent question (Hinata did not realize this, but her face had turned mutinous at Hidan's claim). "Stop holding back."

"I d-don't hold back." Hinata protested. "I n-never hold back."

"Haha, that's a laugh, isn't it Kakuzu? The cute bitch thinks we're retards."

(Cute?!?!)

"You're not aware of it, but you have a will harder than Hidan's stupid head." Kakuzu whacked the latter for emphasis. Hinata was rather shocked at this fabrication - rubbing salt into wounds, eh? If she had will, she wouldn't be on this godforsaken vessel. "This far and not even a crack of complaint."

Only a crack in the head.

"I half-expect you to dig in your heels if someone even remotely suggests giving up."

I want to! I want to give up! But I CAN'T!

Because if I give up, what about the people who care about me?

Who will keep Neji and Sasuke and Hanabi in check?

(Dear gods, the Hyuuga compound – no, the entire island – must be up in flames by now. Multicolored rocketing flames, because her sister was involved and God knew at least one of them lived up to their names.)

"Is that fucking weakness?"

Of course it is. Hinata thought despairingly. If she had been any of the three strong-willed but rather irrepressible individuals she just mentioned, she'd probably be back home by now.

Or at least went out in a dramatic burst of courage (or mulishness).

Of course she was weak.


"Oi, girly, don't forget to thank him." Reminded the man who'd told countless others to fuck themselves as they were en route to damnation.


"Hey, I said we would do some sparring, not slashing the sword around randomly. Were you hoping to poke someone with that last move?"

Kisame's mocking leer eclipsed all acceptable boundaries of helpful. It was just being mean.

I must agree, Hinata-sama, even my loyalty to our fraternal bonds cannot bar me from saying that was helluva pathetic.

Outstandingly piteous, Hinata.

Now even her own mind-phantoms were turning back on her, very much like their tangible selves.

"I'm sorry, Kisame-san," Hinata said miserably, trying to heft the gigantic pillar they laughably called a sword. "The sword is too heavy for me to control."

"So get a new one." Kisame said impatiently. "You knew your forte was not in physical strength, Hinata, so why'd did ya get the big one?"

You told me to get this one! "Y-you said so."

"Never let the enemy dictate your moves, sweetheart."

Enemy – their concept of teaching sure was ridiculous.

And sweetheart?! It seemed even worst that the other names she'd been called. Including cute.

"So – what are your strengths?"

Diplomatic conversation immediately sprang to mind.

Tell him absolute defense. Mental-Neji piped up.

A knack for spotting opponent moves. Mental-Sasuke said not a second later.

Those are yours! Hinata thought back to them.

Tell him you were a juvenile bioterrorist! They yapped together.

"I frankly have no idea." Hinata said out loud, although she had a sneaking suspicion that she had none. Yes, she definitely had none.

"Let's find out then."

Thirty minutes into the contretemps they jokily labeled as a spar, Kisame concluded that, no matter how elementary one explained the basic katas, some people were just too hopeless for words.

Shoddy, shoddy, shoddy.

What was so bad about it was that she'd actually almost impressed him within five minutes of the fight, with an almost gentle tap at his shoulder blades as she danced away from Samehada. It had left his left arm feeling a bit numb.

What a useful technique. If she had gone for the right arm, Kisame though, Samehada would have flown away in one slow beautiful arc.

Hinata's subconscious told her this as well.

Mental Sasuke: The right, you despondent ninny, couldn't you see he favored his right? Are you just that daft?!

Mental Neji: To think I let you bastardize the family technique

Days of scrubbing the deck and roaming around during lookout gave Hinata a good idea of where everything was, and thus she was able to deftly use the terrain to her advantage.

"When did you learn to be so squirrelly?" Kisame asked as he lunged after her up the shrouds where Hinata – being small and unexpectedly lissome – had a marginal advantage. "That's it – use everything you can!"

Hinata wondered if there were merits to cutting up the ropes that Kisame was climbing on, but even the most concentrated of alcohols wasn't about to make her reckless enough to level the mast.

There were sure to be unspoken rules against that.

Pausing for thought gave Kisame the upper hand and unlike her, he didn't fear fierce retribution and thus had no qualms about cutting her ropes away.

"You don't have the luxury of stopping for even a second, Hinata!" He laugh-roared as his shredding blade swung.

Hinata tumbled down to the deck as inelegantly as possible when the tension suddenly went slack. Considering the height, she knew the possibility two broken ankles when she saw it.

That was why, almost unconsciously, she grabbed for Kisame when the opportunity presented itself and together they went falling.

Right on top of Tobi, of course. What an amusing pileup.

(For the record, the mast remained standing. Mockingly.)


Sasori didn't look one bit happy about having to waste his intellect on her for this larceny called bonding.

Neji wouldn't be too thrilled either, if he could see her now, playing terrorist with Team Art in the small, disorderly room that was the redhead's explosives laboratory.

(An explosives laboratory. On a ship. Pfft.)

Forget tea ceremonies and ikebana arrangements, Hinata was learning everything from pillboxes to regular bombs to nukes.

It wasn't quite impractical, just in very, very bad taste.

Sasori gestured for her to pass a large reagent bottle of yellow crystalline compounds.

Hinata smoothly handed it over to him.

"I advise you not to be so cavalier with that, Hinata," Sasori commented offhandedly. "That is trinitrotoluene."

Hinata looked bemusedly at him. "What, Sasori?"

"It is more commonly known as TNT."

"I-is that so?" Hinata asked nervously. Perhaps her one-time dream of blowing the Jolly Akatsuki sky-high might come to fruition after all, if accidentally.

Looking at her, Sasori was inherently reminded of clueless baby ducks…in formalin. Innocence preserved.

"Do you normally make such a conscious effort to appear dim?" The nicer his thoughts were, the more caustic he had to be.

(Except when Deidara was involved, then he was naturally unkind.)

Hinata regarded him thoughtfully for a minute, a bit dejected, then forced herself to brighten up. "N-not this often."

Sasori's ruthlessly stoic face didn't change.

"Oi, don't treat my clay like dirt, un." The blond pirate carped when another end-product was deemed too inferior.

"It is dirt, Deidara."

"If I were female, danna," Deidara smirked so furtively the evil intent was almost palpable. "I would totally go for you, yeah?"

Sasori's face was the worst sort of forbidding.

Lunch break, amid sworded-swordfish-seasoned-with-Sagitoxin:

"Do you also do a-artwork, Sasori?" Hinata asked, rather bravely, rather insipidly.

"He spends a lot of time on his puppets, yeah?" Deidara butted in. "Danna prides himself on being an artisan."

"Those puppets are eternal works of art," The redhead corrected. "Things that will certainly outlive all of us, beauty everlasting."

Reactions to that unorthodox statement:

Not that they expected long life spans. Hinata thought ironically.

"What beauty, motherfucker? Those absolutely hideous corpses?" Hidan laughed in disbelief.

"Of course they'll outlive us, given the amount of formalin and petrified wood you use, which are expensive by the way." Kakuzu said reprovingly.

"I still don't agree with that idea of art, un." Deidara huffed.

...

Back to the bombs:

"It's a skill that can let you determine if the person is lying or not." Hinata tried to insert chirp in her voice as she betrayed an age-old family secret.

(Mental-Neji was ready to turn her mind into a nuclear winter. Bombs in her hand, bombs in her brain, what a pleasing combination.)

"So, spotting the sudden irregularities in breathing, pulse and pupils, yeah? Convenient if you can't intimidate the asshole." Deidara contemplated on it.

Hinata was tempted to say that it wasn't really for use on assholes per se, but rather on dignified associates who might be screwing you behind your back. "You know how to do it?"

"Yes, the Byakugan. I know it."

Sasori walked in from where he'd gathered more raw materials from the absolutely-no-trespassing workroom. Never one to turn down new knowledge: "Byakugan – what's that?"

"A family technique." Except now it wasn't.

"Oh," Sasori resumed his jaded façade. "I thought it was some rare form of dementia."


The second really valuable thing she'd learned… was a lesson in itself, which is unusual, because it was Sasori's and Deidara's chronicles, not necessarily pleasant but nonetheless memorable. The blond was only too willing to divulge them that starlit night after making about enough new artillery to take out a small village.

Nostalgia was in the cool salty night air, mingling with trinitrotoluene fumes.

This is fact: they both had a deep-running history with the connected ships.

Before Gaara, Sasori had been Suna's prodigy, their groomed weapon. Imperious, genius and had a thousand tricks up his sleeve.

Deidara had been Iwa's. Mad, bad and filled to the brim with firepower.

(How the hell did she ever reach Akatsuki's standards?!)

"Think about it, danna, we could have been captains of Suna and Iwa. Mortal enemies and all, un." Deidara's Cheshire grin was accentuated by the moonlight until it ate up his entire face. "What a boon that would have been to our romantic affair. Though I do like the drama, gets the blood pumping, yeah?"

Sasori sent him a lethal glare. "Deidara, do you recall declaring I had every right to perform euthanasia once you started acting your hair color?"

Deidara paused, saturnine, good humor vanishing like a whip. "That was low, yeah? I never call you a hothead."

(Mainly because Sasori could never be mistaken for a hothead, Hinata thought.)

Sasori let a contrite sigh. "I apologize – I meant, once you started acting like Tobi."

"S-so why did you leave?" Hinata interrupted before it could get worse. She was, after all, with two prodigies who could have been mortal-enemies-cum-lovers in an alternate universe.

"Once Suna was not able to restrain me, I no longer wanted to limit myself to their level." Sasori uncaringly responded.

"That's showing them, danna. You choose your own place in life, yeah? Screw obligations." His partner blithely agreed.

Hinata's eyebrows shot upwards.

Hinata couldn't ever imagine abandoning responsibilities like that, leaving the Hyuuga out to dry while she gallivanted around on her own terms. It was unsettling to realize there were people who actually did that.

Like you right now, for instance. Renegade, apostate, defector! High treason! An inner voice cut in waspishly, still not over the divulging of family secrets.

She wisely tuned it out.

There really was a lesson to be learned here, but it wasn't for her.

(Perhaps, not yet.)


Welcome to Pirates 101 with Itachi-sensei. Course title: Lawless Amoral Combat.

(It sounded nearly as bad as that one time session of Psychology 101 – a.k.a. mindfuckery – with Ibiki-sensei. The man, as far as she knew, was currently still on the run from Hyuuga pursuers for it.)

"You are at a disadvantage. What do you do?" Itachi, never one to squander time or effort, asked immediately. He had no weapons on him. This session was going to be all hand-to-hand and, Hinata suspected, psychological.

She was a Hyuuga. She was ready for the latter. Bring it on.

"I-is that a theoretical question or a real one?" First evasion, her win.

"Assume the worst, Hinata." A biting smile twisted the corner of his mouth. First pretending-I-didn't-catch-that-but-we-both-know-I-did, his win.

"Ah, I w-would run," Itachi, she could tell, appreciated honesty. Even if he rarely ever gave it in turn.

"When faced with stronger and wiser opponents, I recommend you cheat."

He made sense, of course, as he always did with everything that wasn't connected to sweets (there his brain rightfully went haywire). Pirate battles were just made for cheating.

These past few days, for example, she should have deliberately poisoned her instructors instead of relying on what the sea had to offer. Except it would only needlessly prolong the agony.

(Hinata, in all secrecy, had never been above cheating. This rakish trait she had even during her stint – okay, entire life – as a lady.)

Itachi was an excellent example of God-given ability gone way, way astray.

When the gods made talent for bestowing upon humanity, they probably tested it out on Itachi first. That is why he had such a large, diverse repertoire of them.

(And why, she thought in resignation, some people had none. How terribly unfair.)

Take this new one.

"What the – ravens?" Hinata asked, flabbergasted as what she taken for a pointless gesture was actually a signal for aerial attack.

Black wings littered her vision.

"You should realize by now that they're quite useful," Itachi stood back as Hinata, being pecked to death, struggled helplessly to brandish the tenacious birds away.

"I imagined pirates would have p-parrots."

Through the haze of dark feathers she could see him gazing at her as though she missed something obvious, which made her feel, yeah, that small.

"Parrots… are loud."

"Yeah, I guess y-you're not the parrot type."

"An astute observation. I can see why I missed working with you, Hinata." A fatal hit, his win, she left herself wide open for that one.

And these types of blisteringly sarcastic remarks were why she avoided working with him.

(In all fairness, those same gods didn't grant him as much subtle arrogance as he could have had, though he still had a liberal amount of it.)

There was a splashing sound.

"It seems that Hidan just jumped ship in pursuit of an elusive lobster."

"What?!" Hinata whirled about.

Itachi promptly clocked her. It was a weak blow, but so unexpected that she staggered to the rail.

"You are far too easily distracted." Itachi coolly reproved. "Unless you have established exceptional dynamics, do not concern yourself over your crew and their battles if your own is still ongoing."

"Well, f-forgive me for having a heart."

"And if you wish to retain that marshmallow organ inside your chest cavity, I suggest you pay attention."

"Constant vigilance, I-I see."

It seemed that Ye Jolly Akatsuki wholeheartedly believed in driving in lessons in brutal yet effective means.

Shortly into the training, his discerning eyes picked up on the frightfully few advantages she had – honed from all the years of dancing and evading politicos and society matrons – an exceptional flexibility.

(And won't Konan be glad to hear of it? "Forget fluttering, Hinata, you can level up to slithering!")

So, for the next few hours, the dark-haired pirate had her doing somersaults, flips and pretzelly sidesteps until all the blood rushed to her head and she was ready to tumble off the craft in utter dizziness. It was painful too – factoring in the numerous grazes and bruises that decorated her former-and-never-to-be-seen-or-heard-from-again unblemished skin.

He even taught her how to break a headlock.

Dear gods, the infamous Itachi le Sharingan had turned into her gymnastics teacher.

On a break, yes, an actual break:

"This may be a wholly new concept to you," Itachi intoned softly as he sipped what looked suspiciously like tea. If he was imbibing rum, it was fine. But tea – considering their diminishing rations – was a near-unforgivable act of selfish luxury. "You will have to rescue yourself."

He slated her, temporarily she knew, to the role of hapless maiden waiting for them shining armor fellows.

Deliberately underestimating her as bait. Well. She wasn't going to bite.

"I-I realize that." Hinata replied charily, adopting her cousin's trademark stolidity.

"And what efforts have you poured forth in that direction?" Ah, here was the question she was expecting. Both of them knew he'd been referring to rescuing herself from Ye Jolly Akatsuki.

Recently, she hadn't put in much (any) effort at all. Ah, she did deserve being called hapless.

But that didn't equate to stupid. "Why should I tell y-you?"

"I might wish to help you." Itachi said vaguely, without a flicker of emotion.

That stopped Hinata short – shining armor fella was a tad unexpected. "T-that's unlike you," She considered him vigilantly, all sorts of disbelieving. "W-what do you have to gain from it?"

"Peace and tranquility that there is one less person liable to kill me in my sleep." She would have easily missed the sarcastic nuance if she hadn't been intently listening for it.

Who was he kidding? "I-I doubt that is in the realm of possibility."

"I certainly wouldn't let my guard down at such a frivolous reason as the impossibility of a notion."

There was an ominous inflection in his voice.

Was he threatening her?

Darn, and she thought they'd finally grown on each other. (Like parasitic barnacles, but still.)

"I-I'm not afraid of you." She, glutton for punishment as she was, mustered up a glare.

"Of course not, I never gave you reason to be."

Interrogation. Threats. Assassination. Add in his bright, shimmering reputation for ruthlessness. Right, nothing to fear really.

"I-I will rescue myself, thank you very much." Oh dear, she sounded prissy on that last word.

"That's a remarkable attitude for an Uchiha." Hinata was confused for a moment before she remembered that little prevarication. She forgot she'd prematurely taken on her fiancée's name. "They are generally a self-destructive lot."

Oooh he got that right.

Years of ingrained self-control and Hinata still couldn't stop herself. "Where did you get the tea?!"

"I suppose you are unaware that the crew is taken with you." Itachi mentioned as he corrected her slapdash pachydermal (how ever did he gain such a fancifully condescending vocabulary, pray?) footwork.

Wow. Itachi sure was prone to exaggeration when he wasn't being subtle.

Hinata blinked, lost concentration and stumbled over her own feet into her ill-placed tutor.

If that was how the crew felt about her – which was superbly impossible – then she feared seeing how they would treat someone they hated.

(A point for comparison: Suna. They regarded Suna only as aggravating little pests and buried them in sand for it.)

"I, however, fail to see what is so impressive. Is it my failing or theirs?" His questioning gaze was almost sincere.

Hinata clamped down her intrinsic self-effacing nature that was on the verge of refuting his previous claim. She might not have acted it for a while now, but she was still a proud, self-important Hyuuga.

She was not going to put herself down when he was already doing an impressively subtle job of it.

"W-well, I imagine I do have my own strengths…"

"Good judgment clearly isn't one of them." He politely put in.

"I b-beg your pardon?"

"Beg away."

When Hinata failed that contortionist's nightmare for the fifth time:

"I-I'm sorry I'm not very good at this."

"That is the least of your problems."

Ooooh burn.

Sunsets on the horizon were lovely. Orange-golden sunlight over calm salt sea. It almost made her forget they were all in dangerous execrable waters. Literally.

Just as she'd come to, unfortunately, associate sunrises with Hidan, her mind was building up on the link between Itachi and sunsets.

He had, for the time being, given up on her future as an acrobat-slash-pirate-monkey and was tossing her little mind games which were very much like that of the Hyuugas, except that these were far more challenging and…

…tremendously fun.

These were the type they'd bred Neji on – to sharpen his logic and acumen for strategy and to generally stimulate his neurons so they wouldn't go apoptosis as was the trend in nobility.

Hinata discovered that she rather loved them.

And Itachi had a such a vast array of them. She would swoon if it wasn't so inappropriate.

Example: "You are given a team of five," Itachi's deep, regal voice was appallingly apt for storytelling. "You will be given a list of their attributes – strengths, weaknesses, personality traits – construct a tactical formation for an ambush mission."

It was so fun directing missions when there weren't any consequences.

Another example: "You have two candidates for the position of captain – do you choose the rightful protégé or the up-and-coming new mate? Who is, I might add, quite young despite his Flashy reputation."

Yet Another example: "You have been presented with all the necessary clues for a deduction. Now, who massacred the clan? Was it the prodigious older brother with the erratic behavior? The overlooked younger brother? The friend who left a suicide note and went missing? The mysterious third-party no one had ever sighted? Or perhaps it was the mayor himself and his associates?"

Many more examples later…

Perhaps it was the novelty of actually hearing Hinata laugh – tinkling, choked, and croaked with disuse – as she sputtered out "What do you mean The Real One Isn't With Them?!", that some of the crew casually sauntered over.

Now here was a real bonding moment coming on, over civil intellectual conversation and shared laughter.

Of course that didn't happen.

A few minutes in and aggressions inevitably let loose.

"Fuck, Itachi's surprisingly strong for a small pretty-boy." Hidan looked so very smug.

That wasn't fair. He was a giant like the thugs were, but he couldn't be called small either. Pretty boy she'd concede.

"I really should beat you to a pulp for that." Itachi said witheringly, then turned to walk away. "But I can't be bothered."

Before he left, he said this, so coldly that it took Hinata a few seconds to realize it was advice: "Remember this, Hinata. While it can be surprisingly useful to be emotional in battle, such that it sometimes grants monstrous strength, it is not something you can rely on. Power is merely secondary. Being able to survive – which we are all accomplished at – is far more practical."

He dismissed her thank-you's with a lazy wave of his hand.

Because Itachi doles out favors when he feels like it and does not expect anything – even gratitude – in return.

Peculiar.


All this additional training did not mean that her grueling sessions with Konan – tangible proof that she had no prior idea of the heights mortification could reach or of the plethora of shades of red and puce that could exist – had ended.

Interesting excerpts:

"One more line like that, Hinata, and I will not be held responsible for any broken bones you draw upon yourself."

"You are not threatening them, for gods' sakes! You're seducing them! Do not confuse this with your other sessions!"

"Hey, I think you just blew me away when you walked in, lady."

"L-like a bomb?"

"Hinata, never say bomb. It makes them skittish."

Yes, that is why Hinata will never ever own up to knowing she could possibly rig explosives as well as anyone. She will be unfit to be wed, even to a pyromaniac like Sasuke. Forget impropriety, she was now a certifiable felon.

"You make my heart skip a beat."

Only one? Mental-Sasuke raised an eyebrow.

Why not go for cardiac arrest? Mental-Neji added.

"Hinata, when they talk about their swords, it can mean either of two things. And the bigger one sword is, the smaller the other." Konan announced irreverently.

It just so happened that Kisame was passing by.

"What the hell are you teaching her, woman?!"

"Only the truth."

"That sure is a mighty fine treasure chest."

Choke. All that stimulatory brain activity – courtesy of Itachi – and her neurons commit suicide anyway.

"And who are you, bonny lassie?"

"You can call me…" Hinata gagged on the next words. "…y-y-yours."

"You look rather like you're being marched to the gallows. I've been there once."

"Hey, laddie, I'm about to make all your prayers come true."

"Just remember not make any religious references when you're with Hidan."

"Innocence, Hinata, use your innocence!"

She hasn't got any anymore. Both inner voices declared.

..

Let's not forget the time Konan needed to consult with Pein:

"Itachi! Relieve me for a while."

The man walked over. Already familiar with her and Konan's daily doses of female psychopathy, he skipped straight to the where she and the Quartermaster left off.

Of course, it just wasn't the same. The horror was a dozen times worse.

"Hey," His – enviably long-lashed, just noticing – eyes were drowning her and he was not even attempting to show interest.

"H-has anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are?"

Of course she'd blurt out the male's line. Ack.

Itachi's brow raised a fraction but he didn't miss a beat. "A lot certainly."

He smirked as he leaned down close enough to whisper stealthily to her ear. "Just between the two of us, Hinata, should I be your backup, we will not have to resort to this farcical display. I refuse to be associated with it."

"But w-what about information?" She slowly backed away, her pale blue-black face now joined by red. Pretty colorful, yeah?

"I am sure there are other ways."

Working with Itachi was suddenly a whole lot more attractive prospect.

If only it wasn't torture on the mind.

(And a bust to her pride that an uneducated boor kept on upstaging her on the mental front.)


It was later that Hinata realized they'd only taught her the how's of combat and deception, never the why's.

For such notorious pirates, they sure spent a lot more time in preparation and planning than in actual execution of those plans. How devious.


"It was inevitable that we come to this." Pein announced, effortlessly seeming as though he was standing above them when, in tangible reality, they were all on level ground. "Because everyone is growing fat and lazy."

Fat?! That was impossible. With their provisions being what they are, everyone was going emaciated.

And lazy?! Restless was a more appropriate word.

It wasn't very obvious, but most everyone was going stir-crazy with the lack of activity. Except Hinata, who had a different definition of activity.

"If there are no objections," Here she desperately wanted to raise her hand but managed to obstruct the audacious movement. No one else moved.

Hinata squirmed uncomfortably. Wonderful, the great voice of reason had suddenly gone mute.

"Choose your teams."

"My call," Hidan, who was inexplicably made one team leader, bellowed.

"Ever heard of ladies first?" Konan, the other team leader, dryly asked.

"Ain't no fucking ladies here, Blue." Hidan grinned. His gaze fell on Hinata. "Girly, you're on my team."

Needless to say, Hinata was floored. She'd expected to be chosen last, if she was ever chosen at all.

Hidan shot right through her ballooning gratitude when he jeered at Konan. "Even with a goddamn liability my team will still take yours. I'm just saying."

Ouch. The euphoria had been evanescent at best.

"Pein." Like anyone expected otherwise.

"Blondie."

"Sasori." Konan countered, presumably to staunch Deidara.

"That pagan fucker over there." Kisame's mouth downturned.

"Itachi." Shrug.

"This ugly asshole to my right." Pointedly ignored.

"Tobi."

"Konan-chan!" Tobi scooted over to the bluenette who, of course, sidestepped the abomination with a grace Hinata envied.

"Join the fray, Hinata, yeah?" Deidara either sneered or gave her the ugliest little smile he could offer. "It's free for all. Sharpen your skills."

Hinata wondered if she was included in this just to make everyone else look brilliant in comparison. But then again, she reminded herself, this group didn't need comparisons. They were naturally lit up. Like fireflies. Fireflies with mega-wattage.

That was why she, who didn't even sparkle with reflected light, should be exempt from this endeavor – which Pein claimed to be good for skill building and ability evaluation and keeping agitation from stealing his crew's already subterranean good humor – this full-out All-Akatsuki brawl.

By teams. They did like to pretend they had a concept of cooperation.

The world had its supply of strong, loudmouth women who thrived on this brand of irrationality. Too bad that number just didn't include her.

Where was anesthesia when you desperately needed it?

When Pein said that the only rule was Do Not Sink The Ship (with a small add-on comment to kindly refrain from landing mortal blows), he really meant it.

Hinata rapidly got a grasp of how anarchic genuine pirate combat was.

If Hinata wanted to make a joke of it, she'd say it was very much like a schoolyard fight between adolescent archenemies.

If she was being optimistic, it was a bar brawl gone god-awful.

If she was being realistic, it made a gangland war look like a demilitarized zone.

For as soon as the brawl started, Hidan and Kakuzu – teammates – immediately turned on each other (like irate newlyweds).

Meanwhile, Sasori and Deidara – opponents – seemed intent on taking everyone else out through coherent teamwork before going after each other.

Itachi took up the crow's nest and simply burned down anyone or anything that got close.

"Shit, you're acting like an ass, Itachi!" Kisame, who couldn't get nearwithout being flambéd, complained sourly.

"Forgive me if I forget to bray." Said fire-man himself.

Pein didn't do anything at all. He sat back, cool as a cucumber.

Weapons whistled through the air. Cherry bombs went off. Ravens took flight. Everyone seemed to be everywhere at once.

All that repressed hostility went tearing through the cold salty ocean air and she and Konan were at the center of the storm.

Hinata had been a fool to believe it was Mother Nature she had to watch out for in the middle of the this marine wasteland.

Konan regarded the erupting pandemonium contemplatively and the next thing Hinata knew, there was a dull thud, a wave of painful incoherence, and she was plastered against the wall.

"Not good enough, Hinata," Konan gently smiled at her, catching her in a tight hold.

Don't think, Hinata. React. The memory swam to the forefront of her stunned consciousness.

The chaos was catching, infective. She listened to the memory. Hinata flipped out of the blue-haired woman's grip using a haphazard combination of Hidan's and Itachi's instruction.

And readily fell into worst clutches.

"Outta the way, sonovabitch!"

Hinata danced out of Hidan's crash landing path just in time. Feeling like a matador. Who just dodged a bull with a scythe.

Exceptionally broad visual range, thank you.

"I'll fucking give you a piece of my mind."

"Please. You have none to spare, yeah?"

Hinata paused in her dodgy dodging, widely eyeing a different fight.

She was in their blind spot.

Ah, so perfect an opportunity.

When everything else fails – actually, don't wait until that point – play dirty.

Shall I – ?

Hinata released a deep breath. No, unless she wanted to be dismembered in the aftermath, she wouldn't do it.

She will leave all and any testicles (Hinata-sama!!! mental-Neji yelped in anguish) alone.

Running away from Tobi, who turned out to be heinously difficult to lay a hand on, Hinata was hopping up some barrels when she slipped…

(Ah. Fate had convinced gravity to take up arms against her as well.)

…right into a barrel of alcohol…

…which promptly broke apart…

…and the liquid converged with the remnants of Itachi's flames…

…and turned the deck into an inferno.

And this was just the beginning.

"Ah, that was some good workout."

"I feel much relaxed now, yeah?"

The deck was in small, flickering flames and red embers. Splintered wood lay everywhere. Three men had gone overboard. More than a few people were missing their dignity.

And they called it a workout.


This time it wasn't fate.

This time it was Hinata who royally screwed herself over.

Because she was a ninny who'd let down her guard and forgotten that village girls were incapable of reading supposedly (rather, supposed to be) dead languages.

It happened very fast.

The yellowing antediluvian chart was tacked right there.

They were off in their own petty arguing (yes, the brawl worked, no one was getting unnecessarily fired up).

She'd asininely looked over the blotted, blooded ink-stain words and asked why the map gave such dandy flaky instructions – remove the seals, take three steps back and a ninety-degree twirl and… do the morning peacock, what the hell?

"You can read it?"

Hinata had a rather distasteful premonition of shit hitting the fan. Oh crap.

"N-no, I was just l-looking." Even kiddie-Hyuugas would be able to tell she was lying.

"You understood it."

There was this thing about being the center of attention that Hinata hated.

(In the back of her terrorized mind Hinata wondered why she didn't think of pretending she couldn't understand the language that first unholy night. They might have left her alone.

She should have gone: No comprenez no ingles, hai?)

Somewhere, someone was leaking murderous intent, as true and fine and sharp-edged as Itachi's.

Hinata grew agitated, her dormant sense of alarm springing back to life seconds too late.

"Since when did little bitches like you know so much?" Hidan asked humorlessly.

"Yes, even the cleverest of village girls shouldn't know how to read even an inch of this." Sasori said quietly.

"Even the cleverest of village boys too." Konan put in, to be fair.

"Well… I h-had a professor for a neighbor and –"

Someone whistled softly, needlessly letting her know her story was unraveling faster than the masts had during the brawl.

"…I was tutored." And by the best. Not that it helped.

"You're…rich." From Kakuzu. It wasn't a question.

There wasn't anything to be gained by denying it.

"Y-yes." And barring the total collapse of the world's economy, she would always be.

The leak of killing intent was suddenly chugging out like a waterfall with diarrhea.

Or maybe it was still just a leak. A gas leak.

"I had told you that." Itachi calmly interjected, impervious. "I accounted for the possibility of Hinata being wealthy."

"Wealthy." Kakuzu repeated, dangerously still.

"I must say I'm not surprised." Konan hmmed. "Though I don't entirely believe she is of Uchiha caliber – rather too deferential, don't you agree, Itachi?"

"Will her family be looking for her?" A practical question.

"P-probably."

"If she is indeed Uchiha, they should have the necessary resources. But I doubt an armada is after us. The Uchiha are not so much loved."

(Unless its a FANgirl fleet.)

"Uchiha." The name threw a lit fuse right in front of that virtual gas leak.

Kakuzu's tight rein on his temper snapped. He gesticulated threateningly.

"Must have been so amusing for you, princess. Had fun playing peasant? Had fun playing thief? Don't stop there – play beggar too, play whore, play graverobber. Must have been a blast rolling in the mud with the pigs. Lying with the dogs."

Kakuzu was so obviously past logical that he was unaware that it wasn't exactly Hinata he was insulting anymore. Some of the others were bristling at being called farmyard animals.

"Was it a novelty to starve? To wake up in a sea of garbage? To sleep out in the cold? I'm fucking sure you had a great time laughing your ass off at the poor, sodding bastards holding you."

Yes, some were really beginning to take offense.

Kakuzu's voice petered down to deep and glacial, like he wanted to choke her by tone alone.

"Snobs like you, always thinking you're above the rest. You scornful contemptuous bitch."

Hinata was too shocked to take it to heart.

Whoawhoawhoawhoa.

This was ridiculous.

How did she end up the villain in this?

Kakuzu must have misread all the signs because just WHEN did she do anything remotely snobby?!

(Or find her situation amusing? Too ridiculous to even contemplate on.)

"Y-you think I'm insulting you?" She was guilty of many things – ineptness particularly and uselessness generally – but not this.

(Just shut up now. Let him go at you.)

"I-I'm not a s-snob. I just –"

(Just be your usual excusatory self and apologize profusely. Or better yet, shut up.)

"We do not presume to know your intentions." Itachi cut in coldly, shutting her up himself.

But even he couldn't stop the words that were running away from her.

"I-I wouldn't do that!" For once… for once she would stand up for herself.

Kakuzu killed Hinata.

Or he attempted to. 'Nother day, 'nother stray.

When the dust cleared (an exaggeration – because the deck was as clean as it'll ever be after the en masse tidying up after the brawl), four Akatsuki were standing between Kakuzu and Hinata, impeding the forthcoming attack.

Kisame was standing in front of her like a shield. Deidara was pulling back Kakuzu from behind, heels digging on the floor. Sasori was grasping his hand. Hidan, his foot.

For once, Itachi and Pein looked taken aback.

Konan's eyebrows had potentially disappeared into her hair.

Hinata's spirit might very well have floated out into space.

Hidan was first to break the shocked silence.

"I fucking tripped. What's your excuse?"

Deidara shrugged rather uncomfortably.

Sasori's face was unreadable (unlike the chart, which caused this hullabaloo in the first place).

"Why did you jump in? More special treatment for the princess?" Kakuzu asked venomously.

"Lay off, Kakuzu, just lay the fuck off. Don't lose your head over it." It was so strange to hear Hidan, who blew a fuse on a regular basis, saying that.


The third really valuable aspect she discovered… was a scorching reprimand she unquestionably deserved.

Hidan decided to be generous with his partner's history, as he dragged her ship's rear for what could be a bitter confrontation during the nightwatch.

And he actually looked serious this time.

"It's not his fault, girly. Me? I don't mind it so much. But you really hit a fucking nerve there. Fucking ass money whore heathen he may be, but he's serious about it. He had every right to gut you."

"M-money's not everything." Hinata defended weakly.

"Hey," Hidan's face took on a tinge of annoyance. "You fucking speak with that presumptuous arrogance again and I swear I'll gut you myself. Don't forget you've been blessed, girly."

And what a punch to the innards that was. It must be a prelude to the actual evisceration.

"I'm sorry." Hinata, this time, was genuinely contrite. It was an apology that seared itself into her soul, so unlike the many apologies she'd offered over the years.

Which didn't bar Hidan from treating it like dirt, of course.

"Don't apologize. Just don't do it again."

Another punch.

He waited a while for her to repent properly before turning on the charm once again.

"So… wealthy merchants or one of those dynasty families?"

One of those dynasty families. The dy-nastiest of all.

"Merchants, of course." Perhaps about four generation ago, an obscure branch.

What a dirty little liar she was. Utter perfidy. No wonder they kept her.


Two days ago, she'd circumstantially outed herself.

"My, my, the quality of our nobles sure are going down, yeah?" Deidara leered amusedly.

Now she was getting all kinds of crap from it.

Ye Jolly Akatsuki were the epitome of Schadenfreude.

"C-can you please stop that? I-it may have been funny the f-first time but d-don't you think enough is e-enough?"

"Whatever you say, liebling." Hidan called over his rum, parodying her facility with languages.

(It was unfair. Considering his Exploding Note encounter, he should have been a total teetotaler by now.)

"Take it up with el capitan." Kisame joined in.

It wasn't cruel, what they did. It would have been far better if it had been cruel but…

A far, far worse fate: she'd finally clicked into place.

(And, considering the exact place, she was much better disposed to snuffing herself.)

The out had given her a past, an identity, a character flaw (in their eyes) and, consequently, a true-blue enemy. It shifted their perceptions of her to something more than just transient.

Fitting in. It was not exactly what she had in mind. All she was missing now was her own wanted poster.

Having a drinkfest session was certainly not what she had in mind either but did that stop them? No.

It was crude, boorish, and damningly plebeian. It was the most preposterous tradition she'd ever participated in.

But with it, and with the profusely exaggerated life stories they were exchanging once the throat-burning alcohol knocked out their common sense, she'd been elevated from stray to comrade. The already motley crew got even more aberrant.

A shark, a nut, a bomber crazy

A stony bastard, a genius, a man mad for money

A good boy, the captain and his… lady fair?

Now throw in the whacko Hyuuga heir.

"If you wished to know, the most legendary of former strays is Haku of the Mist Demons. In merely five years, he ascended all the way to second-in-command." Sasori commented, stoic even when totally smashed.

"I-I couldn't replace Konan," Hinata (oh the horror) slurred politely. "Wrong c-color hair."

Yup, she was gone. She was completely gone. Over the edge. Goodbye. Farewell. Adios. Arrivederci.

Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate.

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

(And was she ever going to regret it in the morning.)

Wily fortunate onlookers who couldn't be dragged into the alcohol-chugging:

Pein sighed into the cool night air, watching the kindergarten-worthy antics of his purportedly ruthless and fearsome crew. The drinkfest had turned into a disaster with baudy singing.

Konan turned to him curiously.

"It is times like this I almost regret agreeing to take her in."

Konan smiled gently. "Almost, right? You made an excellent line-up of missions, Pein, exactly what Hinata needed to toughen up."

"The fact that captain would stoop to such a thing is telling." Itachi commented silently, being his usual observant self.

"And that is why I am captain."


The fourth really valuable thing Hinata learned… was unexpectedly, crushingly sad.

Konan had pulled her aside one session, finally attempting some feminine bonding time – something neither of them will ever acknowledge but which they both seriously needed.

It was about a boy named Yahiko.

It was about growing up in the blood-stained seas at the peak of the (highly emotional) pirate wars.

It was about friendship, an almost ménage à trios without the accompanying sexual relations.

(And here, Hinata thought they actually had something in common. Her mental mirages were unnervingly silent on it.)

It was about a double-crossing and the different kinds of bastards you might meet.

The treacherous bastard. The ruthless bastard. And, most hateful of all, the self-sacrificing bastard.

"Hateful, because you're forced to speak fondly of him even when all you want to do is yank him from the grave and punch his lights out," Konan stated tartly. "Who told that bastard he could get away with that?"

Anything Hinata could have said died in her throat in little word suicides.

Konan's face turned serious.

"What I learned from that, is that you can't let yourself just be saved all the time. There will be times that people will need you to be strong enough to take care of yourself." She whispered quietly in reminisce. "Why do you think I had you training? So you can save yourself from certain death. So you can save yourself from the guilt of having caused someone else's death."

And this:

"Someday people will depend on you to be strong enough to save them. It will be then that you will truly walk along the level path of comrades."

And this:

"I can fight, Hinata, I assure you. And I can let you fight instead of stooping to vacuous flirtations, but this is where the Akatsuki are sorely lacking, this is where they depend on us for."

And, finally, even though it was less encouragement and more emotional blackmail, Hinata understood.

Heart and soul and bruised body into training.


A few days later – because there is nothing epically disastrous enough to mention in the interim – the world tipped over on its axis.

It was Deidara's fault. It was all Deidara's fault.

He kicked the bucket.

Literally.

Itachi of the Sharingan, who had sustained nothing more than a few minor flesh wounds during even the most calamitous of skirmishes, might just possibly be done in by brain hemorrhage because of, humiliatingly enough, a pail.

Yes, Itachi took the bucket to the head. Not as impressive as bullet but it was close.

Considering that the blond had kicked it from the all-high crow's nest – all that potential energy – it was very close.

"OH FUCKING SHIT!" Hidan yelled out.

"Why the hell are you crying out?!" Kisame growled at him.

"I fucking felt like it, shitface!"

Here was the scandalizing part – enough to blow all other absurd occurrences out of the water – it wasn't Itachi who'd been in the original trajectory at all.

Unsurprisingly, because bad luck really did follow her around like an overprotective cousin, it had been Hinata.

(So, wait, it wasn't entirely the blond's fault. Hinata and Tobi were implicated too. Tobi, because who else provoked Deidara to initiate the projectile?)

Hinata – who was torn between spasming over 'Darn and I promised I wouldn't let myself be saved anymore!' and spasming over 'What what what who the hell was able to kidnap the real Itachi?' – had frozen gobsmacked.

An emergency room medic, she was not.

By the time she managed to unlock her mouth, the crew had already crowded around Itachi's crumpled but shockingly conscious self.

"W-who?" She croaked out. Not even a thank you. How ungracious.

Itachi glared at her, a notable achievement, and misheard the words. Or maybe he thought the original question too nonsensical to address and skipped right to the point.

He answered the Why.

"I don't know," He gritted against the almost-concussion. "The body moved on its own."

Hinata thought: The body, not my body, he was disowning it for its noncompliant stupidity.

"It's inappropriate to say this but… somehow, this feels intensely gratifying." Someone commented.

(In their minds, everyone agreed. Only human nature. And Itachi's face did indeed look funny when pained, all clenched teeth and flashing dark eyes and only the merest trace of smarting.)

"Itachi-chan…" There was something carefully blank about Tobi's usually cheerful voice.

"It must be because Itachi did not seek to assist during Kakuzu's murderous rage," Sasori went, feeling a supreme need to be an amateur psychologist. "His masculinity is threatened."

Itachi was coherent enough to raise an aristocratic eyebrow at that.


The fifth thing Hinata discovered… would no doubt have her kicked from upright and ass-tight social circles everywhere: uncensored freedom. Who else but from Hidan?

"Let me tell you something, girly. I can't be killed." He smirked one sunrise.

"Didn't stop of us from trying." Kakuzu put in.

"T-that's very nice, Hidan."

"I have a fucking vision, girly, something so much greater than anything you've fucking imagine. For that, I'll live forever."

"Oh…" Just remain politely interested, Hinata.

Pretend you just weren't sacked by the strength of his purpose.

"With a vision, you can do just about damn anything." Hidan said with mulish determination. "Look at me, you know I'm from a fucking orphanage run by the most heathen narrow-minded bigots you've ever seen. They didn't allow us anything, so fucking military – no freedom of speech, no freedom of religion, no freedom to do whatever. Course, most of us were fucking little kids just scrambling for approval."

That sounded familiar.

"When I finally discovered the greater scheme of things, I fucking showed them that I couldn't care less about their rules."

Or any rules whatsoever. Hinata thought.

"That is why his current existence is the way it is," Kakuzu, who had settled for just trying to murder Hinata in her sparse sleep until further notice, said. "It is a resounding fuck you to the entire system."

But… such freedom sounded just sweet.


On a queer occasion where they actually talked i.e. nightwatch:

"I realize that you ladies were taught to smile disarmingly but somehow you failed that lesson." Itachi said flatly during one approach post-bucket.

Whoever kidnapped the real Itachi had returned him. Or, more likely, Itachi finally bothered to snuff the guy and return himself. Either way, he was acting coldly dismissive and acerbic and underhanded again.

No, worse, he was being catty. It was hidden very well but still, when compared to his once cold solitary personality, ridiculously catty.

Hinata squirmed uncomfortably, her smile becoming brittle. Remember he saved your head from being cracked open. He seemed to be making up for that bout into actual humane kindness by being doubly nasty.

However, unfortunately for him, Hinata was intent on being nice.

The advantage of having elevated status and being on relatively equal ground, Hinata found, was that it gave a semblance of courage. You could fool around a little without fatal consequences. Hinata was going to exploit that for all it was worth for a chance to be – friends was still too strong a word – with Itachi.

"Y-you must going blind, I-Itachi. I have a p-perfect smile," She grinned weakly. "D-did that bucket impair your optical lobes?"

Because somewhat-friends kid each other. Carpe Diem! (Emphasis on the DIE-m.)

"Does it truly amuse you so much?" He asked forbiddingly.

"Nope, I-I'm simply overjoyed that you are such a hard-headed gent." She was truly, truly pushing the boundaries here. This was not the way to make somewhat-friends. But considering how topsy-turvy everything was, it just might work.

That, or she was going to be, sooner or later, another bloated corpse.

"I don't think you're aware of what it means to live as one of us."

Hinata felt the faintest traces of irritation and squashed them down. Letting his words get under her skin would be a prelude to total failure in this game of verbal shots.

"E-excuse me, but have I or have I not been c-chased down, f-fired at, i-imprisoned and p-propositioned by seedy men – including y-yourself, if you wish – for the past few weeks?"

"I fail to see how I am included in your scant legion of conquests."

Great. That was probably the only thing Itachi heard out of all she said.

(Which, incidentally, she shouldn't have said at all. Her alarm system had gone totally out of whack.)

Getting back on track (after assuring him that her retort was a mere flighty jest):

"Y-you know how we r-rich girls are, too ignorant to be h-held accountable for w-what we say…"

Itachi's eyes told her he didn't believe a word of it but Hinata ploughed on.

"So, l-let us say, theoretically, I might w-want to be a pirate. W-what exactly am I unaware of? W-where am I l-lacking?"

"Hinata," Itachi said with all the gravitas and rumination on the ship. Or maybe he was just being grim. Again, hard to tell. "You lack… hatred."

Seriously. That little line should have come with a dark, eerie night in bloodbathed streets the way he said it.

Hatred. Hatred. Hatred.

Hinata was so intensely reminded of Sasuke going through teenage angst that she had to blink.

"Pfft. H-hatred does not amount to anything." Hinata said with a flippancy that was ruined by the nervous quiver in her voice. "Y-you were the one who said to k-keep my h-head clear."


Itachi raised an eyebrow at how easily she dismissed the thing about hatred.

(Indeed, he'd disillusioned numerous brats with that shtick.)

And how easily – well, crests and troughs there – she was falling into the renegade pirate lifestyle.

There were moments where she, unless his flawless ability to read people was suddenly failing him, was genuinely enjoying her camaraderie with the Akatsuki. Enjoying it far too many moments for his liking.

The lure of the Akatsuki had once again been too enthralling. Or some people were just too stupid for words.

She was not supposed to forget that she was captive. He'd failed admirably – a historical event, for certain – at reminding her of that.

It didn't help that he'd had to intervene with that ludicrous bucket affair.

What a rash act of foolishness that was. His outstanding castle of cards brought down by his own hand.

He was loath to admit it, but failure grated on him.

Even though the circumstances with this particular stray-turned-semi-permanent-fixture had drastically changed, as evidenced by her continued survival even after Kakuzu went ballistic.

She wouldn't always be so lucky.

He frowned at Hinata, then calmly said. "I will offer you a word of advice." This time he was going to make it clear enough to penetrate to her relatively rose-colored world. "You should not get attached."

"I-I have no illusions regarding what y-you have done – what you are c-capable of doing. A-and I k-know it's hard but I-I'll do my best."

She said it as if she was going to last.

"I must disagree, you have no idea about the heights of their capacity. They are rough and may often act extremely foolish, but I assure you that no fool could ever survive the Akatsuki." Here, he forced himself to nonchalantly say it the way Hidan would, since Hinata seemed especially perceptive to that bastard.

"You're playing with the damn fire, girly girl."

Hinata tilted her head, regarding him curiously and noting his odd facsimile of chivalry (and queerly hilarious attempt at Hidan – it was good to know he wasn't all that talented). "Y-you're being nice."

Well, wasn't this counter-productive? Itachi wondered if he should allow himself to feel a little frustration. It was totally deserved.

The mood sobered quickly.

"Y-you know…I-I'm not giving up on you." Hinata gazed back at him with a sort of calm, unrelenting defiance. These were the times he could see the noble in her, that rubbishy sort of sense of entitlement to have her way no matter what. These were the times he would honestly believe she was Uchiha.

It was such a stark difference from the slavish persona she'd been wearing since setting foot on the ship that Itachi didn't have it in him to spoil it.

This failure he would just have to accept then. Regret later, most likely. If he knew how to regret.


Hinata steeled herself for the usual cold caustic response (something along the lines of "Now I suppose you've just announced you're my stalker. I suggest you get in line, girly.").

When it didn't come, she turned slightly to look at him, tilting her head questioningly. With a start, she noticed the catty disdain gone like a wisp from his face.

Like a mask being slipped off.

There was something in his gaze that was calculating and very intelligent, but quite unlike the instinctive cleverness he always effortlessly draped out. No, these eyes were black chips of a mathematician's clinical logic.

Hinata had always thought Itachi to be surprisingly good at deceptive mind games, and strategically brilliant, someone who could be considered on par with or even a little above herself. But no – this was Neji level, navy captain strategist level.

He wasn't an uneducated boor who got his cleverness from experience.

She had underestimated him.

Suddenly, the corners of his mouth twitched up in genuine amusement and he chuckled.

"Fine, I give up." He patted her head like a good pet. "Get yourself killed for all I care."

Blindsided by sudden comprehension, she could only stare at him, her jaw bobbing up and down as she tried to get words out.

"Y-you did all that d-deliberately!" All that cattiness (those jeers, dismissals, arrogant swaggers, annoyed frowns, taunting grins and deliberate awkward silences – amazingly, she kept a tab in her head of it, or rather, her mental mirages did. Emotional warfare-wise, she had been totally annihilated) had been very methodically planned and very intentionally played out.

An illusion dispelled.

He might even be beyond Neji level, she conceded.

Now that was just wrong. Sasori-types aside – weren't pirates supposed to be boneheads?

Nonetheless, his rather active attempts – which had over the past several days dumbfounded the crew ("Is it me or is Itachi being bitchy?") – at spurning her almost-friendship hurt.

Why did he have to make her work so hard for that kindness? Not that she minded very much, but… it shouldn't have to be earned. This, even a rich bonehead like her knew.

"D-do you hate me, Itachi?" Hinata flinched as soon as she heard her own ludicrous wording. Hate was too strong and melodramatic a word.

"I hate you as far as I could throw you, Hinata." Itachi answered blandly, bored.

(Okay, this distaste was possibly genuine now.)

Oh, Hinata's shoulder's sagged in disappointment. He wasn't as muscular as any of Team Thug – but he could still pitch her pretty far, especially if they were, say, atop a cliff or…

"But," Itachi was speaking again and he was making a face. (Of course, making a face in conjunction with Sharingan Itachi meant there was a barely perceptible hint of wry expression of his features.) "I do not think I threw you at all."

It hadn't occurred to Hinata that Itachi had not been speaking in the literal sense.


"While I am sure you have your own array of talents, you are still unfit as a pirate. This is a highly inconvenient arrangement for both parties." He said all of it as a matter of fact. "I did wish for you to be gone from this ship but since you are so determined to stay," Hinata clamped down on a protest clawing its way out her throat. "I suppose it cannot be helped. Now, we must improve your host of faults so you may pass for barely acceptable."

It should have been insulting.

Still, Hinata was a full-blooded Hyuuga and she could hear what is not being said.

He wasn't making her earn anything then. Just reminding her of the status quo.

Now, however, he was acknowledging her as a comrade, a lowly gormless one but still a comrade.

From what she could gather, he was all "I have a misguided sense of gallantry that will either beat you down to where you are safe or poke you to greater heights so you can be tough enough to be relatively safe".

Oh for Kami's sake, he was exactly like all the men in her life – Sasuke, Neji, her father – in that tough (uber-tough) love aspect. Decent guys in their own silly, roundabout, emotionally disastrous ways.

Pirates and nobles were not so different after all.

She should have recognized it immediately.


Itachi had not been exaggerating on her faults – because, really, the girl was a walking disaster victim – but perhaps he had downplayed her strengths too much.

It was not everyday people could deal so agreeably with Tobi when he was being unusually childish and wanted to take over the kitchen for another nightmarish pastry.

(Of merely peripheral importance, it was not everyday someone could firmly slot half the crew of the bloody fierce Akatsuki into protective roles, even if they adamantly pretended it wasn't the case.)

Sharpness and diplomacy and the gentle subtlety he never could quite perfect. That, he supposed, he could respect.

But… what the hell was Madara up to now?


The sixth thing she learned… was about the origins of Ye Jolly Akatsuki.

A certain Madara.

A fierce legend of the seas.

A deity among pirates.

A history maker.

A man surrounded by nearly as much rumors as Hinata's engagement was.

Feared, adulated… and gone.

"Who knows where he is now, yeah? He disappeared without a trace."

"Oh, I think he's still around, just watching us." Konan sniffed pointedly.


"I am aware I may be too good-looking to be unremarkable. But it works to my advantage."

Hinata choked on the arrogance. But then she'd had firsthand experience with that face (Putty. Mental-Neji sneered) so she could understand if only a trifle.

"Use anything and everything in your arsenal."

Itachi sure was pragmatic to a devilish extent, using his God-given good looks to disarm unsuspecting enemies of the female or gay variety.

Barring that crookery AND despite his reticence and coldness which were apparently not acts at all, he was surprisingly good to train with.

(Every one of them was actually excellent to train with. Hinata was certain she was hovering between abysmal and just-pathetic now in terms of combat skill – dangerous enough if she ever got dragged by Hanabi into a catfight with some persnickety princesses again. Oh dear gods.)

What made Itachi's training better – or worse, from an alternate perspective – was that he also taxed her mental capacity with all the legerdemains he conjured up for her perusal.

It was creepy. It was like Sasuke with an added century of maturity and a touch of diabolic manipulation.

And swarthy skin. Which had a rather debilitating effect on her. It must be all those years spent in the company of individuals with skin fish-belly-white (and she knew what that looked like now).

"You say I'm smarter than most men and yet I chose to be pirate and, in your reality, I made a mistake. Is it not possible that they were the ones to choose wrongly?"

"But w-why did you choose such a d-deviant lifestyle?" Hinata asked bewilderedly. "N-not that there is anything wrong with it." She hastily added.

Itachi paused for but a second. "Wanderlust."

Ah. "Y-you have never f-found a land you like so much to s-stay?"

"Yes, I highly doubt I will ever be attached to any one place."

"Aye," Hinata grinned, nodding in agreement. "It's not the place that counts, it's the people."

But, considering current context, this was a laughable statement.

The corners of his mouth turned up slowly and, as though he found what she said amusing instead of sappily maudlin, he poked her on the forehead.

Hinata was taken so completely unawares that she felt like she'd taken a wrong turn somewhere and stepped off a cliff.

A weird and distinctly unpleasant sensation.


"I'm at sea."

"Obviously."

"I mean I'm confused, you fuckhead! Those two…"

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say Itachi got over his reclusive personality."

"Perhaps it was fate."

"Or we can simply attribute it to abhorrent bad luck."

The crew had obviously never heard of subtlety while eavesdropping.

Heck, they weren't even eavesdropping. Eavesdropping entailed a grain of stealth.

"I-Itachi, t-they think you're g-going soft." Hinata kidded.

"As if it matters to me to be judged by morons."

"Hey! Say that again you damn pipsqueak!"


The seventh thing she'd learned – it's intel value dubious – was that Itachi had a brother.

A brother!

What a cozy confessional this entirely too long, too Spartan sail turned out to be.

"I do not remember him much." Lie. Itachi remembered every single detail. A tiny, black-haired babe the last time he'd seen him.

Harmless as a lamb.

And Itachi had been irrevocably taken in.


Back at home:

Uchiha Sasuke's glare could have roasted a whole flock of lambs that moment.

Damn that asshole Neji for sailing off. That utter prick had used the cover of an ensuing storm to hurry off the behemoth Hyuuga fleet into parts unknown while the Uchiha ships sat at the other end of the harbor – because longest distance was the safest distance between the two crews – until they regained visibility in this infernal fog, something that was now apparently not a problem for the Hyuugas.

The flock of lambs being unavailable, he settled on glaring at the stone bust of an esteemed ancestor, waiting for it to sizzle with black flame.

Because black was all he felt right now.

(No racist implications either.)

Because Hinata was gone.

Somewhere out there she must be being beaten (got that right), starved (true, but everyone else was too), molested (only verbally, and by Konan). Hinata may be sick and lonely and hurting (debatable).

Hinata was such a gentle soul, after all. Not at all like her satanic sister or obstinate cousin. He reluctantly had to admit however that, unlike those other two Hyuugas, she would be absolutely helpless.

Like a freaking duckling.

(A flash of bittersweet-chocolate memory: Hinata waddling after him and Neji when times were still bright and good and utterly humiliating to remember. He had been friends with the asshole. Worse, he had even looked up to him, and not just because Neji was taller either.)

That sweet, if annoyingly meek, little childhood friend could be in agonizingly deplorable conditions right now.

Or worse.

He would give most anything for confirmation that the rumors about Hinata's death were apocryphal.

"Oi, teme, your bitching is not going to help anyone." Naruto, who dogged him ever since that incident, had said. That ignorant toad.

Sasuke had replied: "Bring back Hinata and I'll calm down."

Didn't anyone understand that?

By the time he left, face all acid and all stone, the bust was in pieces on the ground.

In fact, half the floor was missing.

Neji had been right to sail away.


Next Chapter: A SHORT interlude – jaunting off into haunted islands. Because every pirate story needs a haunted island scene. Right, Hidan, HAUNTED. Wooooo.

Notes: Long chapter for the long update interim. I will be beyond shocked if you reached this point in one sitting and are not bored out of your mind. The plot is progressing… like a snail on sedatives.

Something not so cracky for once but twice as OOC. You might not like it though, since most of you seem to read this for the laughs. I will find my sense of humor again. Promise with good-guy pose.

By the way – this story will be, at the very most, 18 chapters. We're at least halfway through! Yay?

Thanks for reading. REVIEW!

I will check my email about... five days after I post this. Because, you know -thesis- it will be over by that time and I CAN BREATHE. Leave a review to make sure I would, you know, still want to. Breathe, that is.