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Respite
/ ˈrɛspʌɪt, / · noun
a short period of rest or relief from something difficult or unpleasant.
The waters rippled.
And yet, he doesn't lift his head nor react to the source that was a beacon for his chakra, her swirling vortex the unique holder for his fire. He knew the signature like it was the back of his hand, its wellspring and intricacies mapped out in his mind as his power runs through her channels like an unending river; a course that he will run until this part of him diminishes along with her. It was natural that he knew her energy like it was his own; he lived within her for more than two decades – a small percentage for all the consciousness he has – watching her develop her systems while his power purified in drops and melded with her own.
She was his vessel, and he prays to his departed father that she might be his last.
(It feels so far that nearly a year ago, that might truly have been the case. With the new timeline, he is renewed; with another vessel that will ensure his continued existence.)
'Another sleepless night?' Kurama asked, voice rumbling in its deep baritone.
Kara shrugged helplessly.
Denying that she had insomnia was useless. Both of them could feel the lethargy in her younger body and the eye bags that she hid beneath her Henge, her own mind slowing down and agitated from the lack of rest.
She cannot stop the recurring nightmares or the dreams from happier times, but she struggled to think that the latter was a blessing more than a curse. All her experiences would remain as memories – almost terrible reminders – of everything she has lost and Kami knows that she doesn't need any more of them.
Frequenting the mindscape helped her so that was precisely what she did.
'Nothing I can do to get around it,' she murmured, giving a moment of pause. 'Unless you want to give me your ability to take naps, of course,' she joked.
He sighed. Part of him wished that he could. 'Come here,' his tails beckoned.
She complied like it was a habit ingrained in her, her lithe feet tapping on water and causing it to ripple even further. She pressed her back against his side and slid down, wiggling slightly to find the most comfortable spot.
The warmth of his presence quickly filled her, his chakra thrumming in her veins in an even, saturated pace. One of his tails reach out to cocoon her like a blanket, wrapping her in his protection as it pressed down on her with a comforting weight. She hummed slightly, indulging further in all that her beast was, eyes closing and trusting.
'Kit,' his entire body trembled with the deep note.
She hummed again in acknowledgement, allowing him to go on.
'Why do you refuse to allow yourself to forget?'
Her eyebrows furrowed as she ruminated over his question, genuinely considering it before she spoke. 'Forgetting… Forgetting is so easy that it feels wrong, 'ttebane,' whispered the jinchūriki. 'Forgetting would mean forgetting the people I fight for, who made me the person I am today. While it isn't what they wanted—'she laughed mirthlessly—'who I became was worth becoming. And I don't ever want to forget that.'
The faces of her precious people complemented by their names flashed across her mind quickly in the reddish darkness. They change from actual visages to just registration numbers that hang off dog tags, thin metal clinking against one another on an endless chain, a representation of the cause that they fought and died for. But all the images take a turn for the worse, the glinting surface of metal suddenly corroding and melting.
'It's just-"she struggled, 'it's just the enemies that make everything go bad.'
His claws glide against tiled grounds and turned the liquid into a murky red momentarily. 'If that is what you say, why do you refuse to even entertain the notion of sealing the bad away temporarily despite my numerous offerings?' Kurama asked. An extra tail twirled slowly above her head, drawing out blue wisps that curl around him like a thread on a spindle. 'They often plagued you no matter your state of consciousness and you are aptly aware that you cannot forget them. Yet you cling onto those vestiges even though they threaten your sanity, when the rational thing is to clearly forget them and live.'
Even if it was just briefly, she can feel the weight unburdening her shoulders from the threads he drew. Alleviating it was, she exhaled, pulling back those strings where they belong.
'Things are only sweet because there is bitterness as its counterpart.' Her fingers draw an imaginary circle with a curved divide, her own smile filled with both the emotions she tried to describe. 'Their deaths,' her voice shook, 'remind me why I'm back here all over again, trying to fix the mistakes I made. Mistakes that I regret and could no longer change. They are my motivation that tells me what it cannot become because- because my precious people deserve a better future than the cesspit that we came from.'
One hand trailed down his fur. 'Kurama, you, were once part of that bitterness as well.'
She can only give him her honesty. Unlike most people who remember their childhood as fleeting images of happiness, hers were crystal clear: full of scorching remarks and bruises, of shunning and drivel. It was not the Kyuubi's fault – none of them asked to be linked – but he harboured her unhappiness and allowed it to fester, using it as his own tool for his means.
They got on the wrong footing with conflicting goals; she demanded payment while he wanted freedom. A chakra construct of hatred and a damaged human sacrifice – no one would have expected them to form such a formidable pair. They certainly didn't.
Ironically, it was from this unstable foundations that they still managed to build such solid grounds, treasuring each other's presence and finding a long lost comfort as partners that were tied in death. It was this bitterness of beginnings that made their current relationship sweet, giving it meaning that they have triumphed over their own darkness and there were capable of being more than what people said they were. From a common enemy they rose together, becoming comrades and irreplaceable partners, surviving till the end and still trying.
They were imperfect – but Kara was fine that. He showed his concern in a roundabout way but she measured him with her straightforward nature that was unafraid. He was her voice of logic and her extended wisdom and she was his hope that humanity might be different from all he has perceived.
Their past was an anchor that chained her down but it was also a weight that made her stronger.
It was all the matter of perspective.
Silently touched, another tail curled around her, while the other seven swayed arbitrarily.
Perhaps one day he could free her from newer demons like how she once gave him a new lease of purpose, but now was not the time.
'Sleep, kit,' he murmured, quiet with concern. I will protect you.
Kurama coaxed more purified chakra into her system in a slow rhythmic pace, its gentle nature soothing her tired mind and heart into unconsciousness. He droned an old story to her in accordance to the lull he created, drowning her senses in a soulful background noise that would chase away the demons that kept her from sleep.
Her eyelids fluttered to a close under his efforts and her head tilted slightly to the side, cheek pressing against his fur slightly. Blonde hair covered a part of her whiskers while the creases between her eyebrows smoothed out and a pang of nostalgia hit him.
Uzumaki Naruto was once a girl who dreamed impossible things, even on the tattered mattress in her small apartment and wearing a ridiculous dog nightcap. She always strived to prove him wrong and was unbidden in emotions, reckless and fiercely beautiful as she stared down every enemy with eyes that spat blue fire. She used to stand in the spotlight fearlessly and gave hope with her golden glow, taking pride in the unorthodox ninja she was that desired the light.
But that flame diminished and she was now frightened by the same light.
Kara only had nightmares and phantoms as her true company, training herself to near exhaustion, always slinking in the darkness unseen. She didn't dream. She no longer dared. She only held the stubborn conviction to save everyone else – her last rope, her saving grace – but that did not mean she treasured her own life. She lost her bright smiles to the carnage, her friends to death, falling into the abyss that she once pulled him out of and Kami knows if she will ever climb up.
The Kyuubi no Kitsune was only the watchful guardian that witnessed everything. From her rise to her fall, he healed every physical wound such that none would ever mire her skin, but there were always emotional ones he could never quite reach. He was tired of just being the ancient bystander that only committed to his own pessimism.
If it meant something – anything – then he would at least, try to protect her sleep.
So that she could awake with brighter eyes when the sun rose, to perhaps see the world as she had once shown him.
The hours of the night approached dawn and it drew to a close.
"In the name of the Sage of Six Paths, his brother and his biological descendants that may or may not be extinct after this war," Kara groused, "I'm going to kill Jiji." A growl ripped from her throat, the sound low and heavy with unhidden rage.
'Keep your murderous tendencies within your own village,' scoffed Kurama in the back of her mind. 'I would appreciate it if you do not undermine my departed father's succeeding lines.'
"Oh please. He would agree with my master plans if he was forced into this situation," said the jinchūriki seriously. She wasn't about to forgive her grandfather figure any time soon.
He gave her a D-rank mission. D-rank. By the Shodai –
She was an Elite Jōnin, was next-in-line for Nanadaime Hokage and she was given a kami-damned D-rank mission. She hadn't had to do a D-rank mission for nearly a decade – for good reasons since those missions were just demeaning – and he decided that the first thing to do after giving her the Chūnin rank was commemorate the occasion by giving her a Stupid. Four times damned. D-rank mission.
'Let her gain more experience and credibility' he said, with a laugh in his voice.
'Utter bullshit,' she called out in her mind, wanting to wipe that gleeful expression off his face with the scroll that her father was holding. But attacking the Hokage would be impolite (and treason) and she was probably in the black books of most ANBU operatives. (Kara swore it was not her fault.) In a nutshell – she was doing all she could stay out of the T&I holding cell.
The Hokage just didn't want to admit that he was being petty about the prank she pulled to get back at him for the entire Jōnin-sensei stunt – and that had been mild as compared to the entire month worth of D-rank mission he decided to place on her by proxy of Team Minato.
Her eyes narrowed. He's going to wish he didn't when I'm done with my next prank.
'On the bright side of matters,' Kurama interrupted her scheming, 'At least it is not a D-rank mission in Suna.'
"I'd take killing scorpions over this, Kurama," she hissed lowly, heaving the bundle in her arms slightly like it was a sacrifice. She wanted to slap that arrogant grin off his face, along with a few of his sharp teeth and maybe that would take his arrogance down a notch. I hope it's the front tooth I knock out, she thought darkly.
She glared at the baby in her arms. As cute as it was, its guileless fascination with her darkened hair was something she could not handle right now. Her current schemes involved taking down a Hokage and usurping the nice chair he sat on – not attempt to turn baby speak into some sort of cryptogram.
Her pupils became silted. Her vermillion eyes turned crimson.
She felt kind of smug that the baby started crying.
"Kara-chan, what did you do!?"
Fuck. Maybe not then.
The said girl flinched when she heard thundering footsteps echo throughout the house. Brown hair flaming, the medic-nin approached her with the aura of war goddess, half-ripping the crying demon spawn – she meant child, baby – out of her grasp to comfort her.
"I leave you for one moment and you have the baby crying," scolded Rin, bouncing the child slightly to calm it down. "What did you do again, Kara-chan?"
Kara flinched again although she felt no remorse. "Nothing?" she muttered.
She gave her a disbelieving, yeah-I-will-totally-believe-that look. "Even Kakashi and Obito aren't that bad with children," sighed the Nohara, giving her two teammates a glance. They were handling the other toddler surprisingly well. "This is the second time you made the children we are supposed to babysit cry, Kara-chan."
"Then Sandaime shouldn't have given me this mission then," said Kara under her breath.
"Kara-chan…"
"I said nothing," the girl quickly added, raising her arms in surrender.
She briefly considered how much chakra it might take to trade places with her clones that were in her apartment reading up on Fūinjutsu. A kawarimi over a long distance shouldn't hurt me, she convinced, in fact, the high chakra expenditure would work in my favour.
Rin narrowed her eyes. "Don't even think about escaping."
She gaped. Was she a mind-reader?
"No, I'm not," said Rin, faintly amused. "You said both sentences out loud."
"Damn it."
The medic-nin slapped her arm, brown eyes stern. "Language."
She stared. A childish part of her wanted to curse out like no tomorrow. Wanted to scream and cause a ruckus (maybe then she'll be banned from D-ranks for poor influence) and hunt a certain Hokage down. But maturity (or there lack of) made her settle for chanting some gibberish demonic chant instead, hoping that some saviour might swoop down from above to save her from this insulting mission. Demons were an option as well – she wasn't feeling picky today.
'I would find amusement in that statement, but you are already the host for one, you do realize that right?' Kurama asked.
'Demon? You?' She snorted derisively. 'Hardly.'
Eye twitching slightly, the Bijuu moved suddenly, taking the liberty to flick her forehead and body straight into the end of their mindscape. His mouth curled in satisfaction to the sick crunch of body impacting on solid and the glare she sported as she climbed to her feet. It didn't actually hurt her, but that didn't mean it stopped her from conjuring a Fūton: Rasenshuriken and throwing it his way.
He cackled and slapped it away.
"You would think that being the closest to the baby's age would make you understand them more," Kakashi muttered nonchalantly. "Closer mentality and all."
"Been hanging around babies a lot, Hatake?" She retorted back, grinning brightly back at his irritated scowl.
"I'm not the one who made the baby cry."
"And I'm not the one who looks constipated like they ate puree for every meal since they were born. Oh wait, that's your description."
Rin sighed lowly to the baby in her arms. Suddenly the doe-eyed, slightly troublesome baby felt like a better conversation partner than anyone else in the room. Obito watched on with fascination while wrenching a small shoe out of the toddler's mouth.
Kakashi's eyebrow twitched. "You don't even know the first thing about babies, let alone tasting puree."
"And neither do you," she snaked. "I wouldn't think so hard about it though. No amount of tissue can clean up the mess of an exploded brain and baby powder can only do so much to mask up the scent of blood. It would be a terrible mission report to write, seeing how babysitting can somehow result in mortality."
"You're full of shit, you know that?"
"Kakashi-kun, language!"
"Not as much as you," Kara smiled serenely. "No amount of diapers in the world can hold up the amount that you have."
His eyebrows looked like they were having a seizure, in Kara's sincere opinion. Rin gave up and buried her face in the crook of the baby's small neck, causing it to giggle.
"Okay, that's about enough arguing, the both of you," Minato finally interjected, looking almost regretful that he had to end the conversation. "We're here to complete the mission, not quarrel about like-minded mentalities."
"I don't even know why I'm here," conveyed Kara in frustration. "I'm already Chūnin."
"I don't see how your new rank affects your ability to complete the mission. No matter what position you are, you are always expected to finish the mission you are given, even if it is low-ranking and below your calibre. Every mission is important to the village."
"I'm not disputing that," Kara muttered. They were in an authoritarian village after all. "But what I do know for a fact that Chūnin usually don't have to do D-rank missions. They tend to cover to scope of B and C-ranks, and this—"she gestured to the overall domestic scene and the diaper on the couch—"is none of the above."
"You sound like Kakashi when you say that. He's like, disgruntled about these missions all the time."
"That is because I am," the silver-haired Chūnin deadpanned.
"And you sound like a disgruntled Genin that has yet to make it to Chūnin, Obito." Kakashi chortled at that.
"Fight me," Obito sulked. "Not everyone gets their promotion out of nowhere like you. You haven't even told us how you got it. You just showed up one day with Minato-sensei and announced that you were Chūnin. That's it. No exams, no nothing. Nada."
"I told you I used blackmail," she huffed, "You didn't want to believe me."
"There's no way that would have worked, Kara!"
"Would it?" She deferred, looking at her own nails uncharacteristically. She looked up at him with mischievous red eyes. "I seem to recall someone being blackmailed into buying me ramen because they didn't want something getting out… Something about a room… a picture… and someone…"
"… I thought we were over this when I bought you ramen last week."
"We were," she informed, smirking. "But that's the beauty of information," her arms made an imaginary rainbow, "its eternal and it can always be used again."
'What information are you talking about?" asked Rin curiously.
"Nothing!" said Obito hastily, his eyes pleading the blackmailer.
She raised an eyebrow. You started this, so you owe me ramen if you want me to drop it…
His eyebrow, however, twitched. Fine.
Don't sass me, Obito.
"I must say, I didn't pry you to be someone who would denounce authority, Kara."
"You don't understand how effective the first lady, Fūinjutsu and high quality tobacco are together, sensei," said Kara, calm.
He raised his eyebrow. "Is it imperative that I should be aware of said effectiveness..?"
"…No."
"Do I have to file a report for this?"
"If I don't get caught," Kara answered, causing the entire room to go silent, save the toddler who fell face first on the ground. "So far, I haven't. It's good for him anyway…" She muttered the next line under her breath, "Since that Jiji damaging his own health with the rate he's smoking."
He would be thanking her when he lived past his seventies.
Minato shook his head, and he doesn't think he'll ever understand the relationship dynamics between the Hokage and his youngest student.
The toddler started sniffling. And it cried.
"Now that-"she pointed to the source of the commotion- "was not my fault, Rin-chan."
"Kara-chan," the said medic spoke with much difficulty, chest heaving like it was physically exhausting to rebuke her companion, "For the sake of my decreasing sanity, please keep quiet."
The other two members of Team Minato guffawed.
"Kick his ass!" Kara yelled, hand cupping her mouth to amplify her voice. Her eyes darted back and forth between the two rapidly moving figures at stalemate before she shouted again: "Or you owe me ramen!"
"What!?" Obito shrieked indignantly, blocking a kick that was aimed at the side of his face. "How is that even fair!?"
Kakashi grunted when his opponent landed a punch on his stomach, feeling the air being knocked out of his system. He bounded backwards to avoid another punch, circulating more chakra to his abdomen to relieve some of the pain. His grey eyes flashed. That hit actually hurt, he sucked in a breath, drawing out a kunai in his right hand.
"Shinobi life was never fair," she stated in a matter-of-factly tone. The scarecrow pounced, kunai pushing out first like a spearhead.
"And you're fucking expensive," Obito snapped back, drawing his own weapon to counter. He winced when the sharp edge drew past his cheek, feeling the sting of the slash.
She gasped out loud, throwing some stray grass in his direction, "I resent that statement!"
The Uchiha let out a snort as he met metal for metal, his onyx eyes converging on Kakashi even more intensely. Swings were traded, strength against speed, raining sparks down on both persons as they intended for the torso. With military precision, he veered his kunai forcefully and knocked the weapon out of his opponent's grip, quickly making use of his surprise to execute a series of quick stabs.
"Kara, you should stop distracting Obito if you actually want him to win. You're only disrupting his concentration as we speak."
"Distracting him?" She scoffed, sounding offended. "I call it motivation, Minato-sensei."
Rin giggled. Their teacher rolled his eyes, struggling to keep the amused grin down.
The spectators continued to watch the fight, contemplative as they judged each move that they made. A skilled Shinobi would try to minimize their excessive motions to save energy and make quicker and more precise moves. That was the distinct difference between the experienced and the amateur; it was the amount of time spent trying to drive out habits and inconsistencies, and being the latter, they would need all the practice that they could get with the helpful advice of their teacher.
But watching them fight while remaining silent was a bizarre experience for Kara.
It was just a few years ago where she watched them fight to the death as grown men in their primes, their Taijutsu fully developed in both speed and strength. They were fast and flowing in their lethal dance, their art timeless as they met blow for blow, dishing out kicks, punches and all manners of manoeuvres just to get the upper hand. It was sickeningly beautiful to witness them at the tip-top form, a dark background giving centre stage to the walls they raised and the fires and lightning that they wrought, destroying everything and leaving a trail of broken earth in their wake. They both had one red eye then, the Sharingan bloodied with its three cutting edge; both matched in reactions and copying, both familiar and unfamiliar with the style that has morphed.
It was also the first time she saw her sensei despaired, trying to hide his own guilt and failures behind his signature pocketbooks although the pages don't ever flip.
Now they were just children, nothing of the experienced killers they would become, like cumbersome puppets with shorter limbs, movements unpolished and awkward. They were still learning – engraving memory in their muscles and forming stronger bones, still shaky on reflexes and mind barely honed, trying to grow out of the stage of in between. It's a blessing, she idly thought, a blade of grass spinning in her grasp, that I have the chance to watch them fight without the intention to kill.
Consequently, it made her realize the devastation that her sensei might have felt, that whenever they fight on different sides of the war, there would be no teacher to moderate them and call an end to it, throwing any chance of reconciliation out of the window. The seals that they made after a spar was gone with the winds of the past and all that was left was the ugly truth that only one of them could survive for the other to thrive.
This was what it could have been for them. Where both of them completed each other without even trying, making up for each other's deficiencies with combined strength - in rhythm with one another for the objective of improving rather than trying to kill one another.
Kara let the flimsy plant she held drop.
"The spar is over, it's Kakashi's win," Minato called, snapping her out of her reverie.
Obito was on the ground while Kakashi towered over him, his retrieved kunai positioned directly in the middle of his opponent's neck, the cusp of his blade prickling skin slightly. No matter victory or defeat, exhaustion and satisfaction was present on both their faces. The victor offered his seal of reconciliation in good grace and pulled a grinning Obito up along with it.
"Good fight," Rin praised, a humbled smile on her face.
The medic-nin pushed herself up from the ground to heal them.
Their teacher nodded in agreement. "Obito, you are an aspiring Taijutsu practitioner with your growing strength but you can afford to plan out some of your moves in advance to land more devastating blows. Not everything has to hit; it is more of landing the final and systematic blows that count."
"Kakashi, you make up for where Obito lacks. You have the speed and reflexes to make up for your lesser strength. While being agile exploits your shorter stature to its full limit, being able to pack a punch when it counts will increase your effectiveness." The said boy grunted, staring at his own hands while clenching and unclenching them.
"Either way," he clapped his hands on both his boys, gesturing for them to sit, "We'll call an end to today's training. Good work everyone."
His cerulean eyes softened as he gazed at the children that meant so much to him. They looked up at him with such optimism, sporting a wind-blown hair and slightly scuffed up but still utterly precious. It was times like this where he felt bitterness for the career choice that they made. In the dark times of secret wars, they were put through battles where there was no mercy for the young – every man for themselves – and the comfort that they could find in the times of desperation was cold steel.
"We are going to be deployed for another war mission tomorrow," informed Minato. The alarm and fear present on their faces made his gut wrench. "You are to report at the South Gate tomorrow at five hundred hours and you need to be punctual." He looked strictly at his wayward student before he sighed again.
As much as he wished that their missions could stay at a lower rank, he was not deaf to scarcity in manpower. The scales of ability to missions have slowly shifted ever since the beginning of war and it was a miracle that his team remained mostly untouched.
But how long has that lasted?
"So I expect all of you to rest up early today. If you need to replenish your weapon and pill stocks, or pack the last of your bags, please do it by early evening. I want nothing less than your peak performance tomorrow. Is that clear?"
"Understood," all of his students answered, syllables crisp.
"Is the situation that bad?" asked Run, voicing the question that some of her teammates had.
"Worsening," he replied with a grimace.
Iwa was quickly making advances through the buffer village of Ame, and Kumo would be stupid to not take advantage of the clear road that had already been forged. They were approaching steadily and it was terrifying - they were too close to his home plate for his liking, too close to his precious people and he wanted them out.
"We'll be fine when we have you around, Minato-sensei." Kara quipped with a grin, another blade of grass twirling between her fingertips.
If only he had her confidence, he smiled wryly. "I thank you for your faith, Kara-chan. I hope I won't displace it."
"You won't." Resolute vermilion eyes echoed the absolute certainty she vested into the two words and part of him believed her. But the seriousness fades as soon as it appears. "I mean, you are the famed Yellow Flash. All you need to do is swing your blonde hair like you're advertising a hair product and you'll send both Iwa and Kumo-nin running." She cracked a huge grin.
Obito and Rin burst into giggles at her random input.
"Very funny," Minato laughed along. "Should I throw in a few Bushin to magnify the impact?"
She considered it seriously, tapping her cheek with the plant. "I say yes if you're trying to cover more area. A small-looking person from a distance won't do much… Impact is absolutely necessary."
Her teacher shook his head, amused by her vivid imagination. She probably imagined him lolling his head to the rhythm of metal clashing as well. "I'll take it under advisement."
"Spoilsport," Kara pouted, knowing a rejection when she heard one. "People would write stories about it if you actually did it."
"I don't aspire to be written like that, Kara-chan."
"It adds appeal to your infamy?" She suggested.
"People would revere you sensei!" Obito fuelled eagerly.
"Or make him a laughing stock," Kakashi stepped up to defend his honour. He refused to have his teacher's dignity sodden by childish antics.
"It can be used a tool for underestimation then," the mischievous kunoichi surmised immediately. "If the enemies constantly expect him to swing his hair gloriously on the battlefield, they won't think he's dangerous and they'll let their guard down. Then Minato-sensei can swoop in-" her arms and head moved in a zigzag manner opposite of one another-"and end them all. It's the perfect tactic to employ!" She finished, chest puffed out and immensely proud. Obito chuckled again while Rin continued her breathless giggles.
"I think you spend too much time thinking of pointless tactics, Kara."
"I call it making use of every possible distraction as a weapon, Hatake," she sniped back challengingly, the grin a permanent fixture on her face. "And ever heard of improvisation? Heard it stimulates the mind. You want some?"
"I can improvise plenty well and in more reasonable ways than you can," Kakashi retorted coolly. "I don't think using Minato-sensei as a party trick for intimidation works well."
"Well don't knock it till you try it," she shrugged carelessly.
"I'd rather not, thank you very much."
"This is why you should never take Kakashi out for comedy," Obito whispered loudly to Kara. "He doesn't understand it."
Grey eyes became a level more intense.
"I learnt that the first time I met him," she whispered back, still looking pointedly at the silver-haired boy. "He'd start questioning the comedian irritably instead of getting the joke. Shame." She paused. "Shameeee," she booed at length, dragging the word out on purpose.
In her fit of laughter, she barely managed to dodge the blunted shuriken that was thrown her way.
I hope you enjoyed this humourous chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. You are warned though -
Angst galore will begin again next chapter ;)