The Disguise (part 2).

Amegakure, 23rd November
Year of the Tiger

"Ma!"

Mother…

(indeterminate gurgling) "Ma!"

Mom…

(high pitched squeal. The sound of bubbling chuckles) "Ma! Ma!"

Mama? Mother… Mother?

"Mom!" Sasuke woke to his own cry - his body tense, eyes wide; a thin trail of sweat creeping down from his room around him was dim and unfamiliar, and while he'd gotten used to rising in strange surroundings throughout his many years of training and wandering, the Kakkou had managed to instill a very unwanted sense of dread toward this situation. He felt a slimy, uncomfortable coolness settling in his stomach, curdling with his guts and he took a breath to calm himself. In his mind, he calculated the size of the space by sensing the temperature of the air and the sound of his breath as it left his lips. Dark eyes registered a white painted ceiling, cream walls, lemon coloured curtains. He knew this. He knew how to do this. And so far, it seemed, he was safe. Except… where was… Where the hell was-

"Welcome back. How are you feeling?"

His daughter. Mikoto was the thing that was missing. Only she wasn't missing - she was right beside him, watching him with as much concern as a baby could perceive; her large eyes were fixed upon his and her sparse brows pressed together slightly. She was fine. She was right here, sitting in the lap of a woman with short hair and a kind smile (although that was nothing to Sasuke; kind smiles meant shit in the ninja world). But he was on edge. He felt the tension in his muscles and the ache from a shock to the system that might have occurred sometime recently. Apart from the mysteries of his pregnancy, he knew his body well enough to understand that something out of the ordinary had happened. His muscles were knotted like shoelaces, he could feel the tension in his neck like a vice. He swallowed, then narrowed his eyes a little.

"Who are you?" He asked the woman slowly, hoping she didn't hear his heart hammering in his chest. She was holding his daughter. She had his daughter. She had-

"Ri Kodomi. Kaori, generally, but most people call me Kodomi-sensei or Dr Ri, depending on how cheerful they're feeling," Ri bounced Mikoto a little in her lap, laughing as she emitted a penetrating squeal. Sasuke very nearly jumped - he hadn't heard her squeak like that before. For a moment he thought that this 'Ri' woman had hurt her, but she laughed again and wiggled, demonstrating her delight. Sasuke watched her curiously. At length the woman added. "You fainted in my Dojo. You've been out for a couple of hours. We moved you to the spare room when it didn't seem as though you were going to wake up in a hurry."

"I fainted?" Sasuke spat out the word as though it had tasted bad. Historically, he hadn't had many good experiences with fainting. He winced, lifting a hand to feel the back of his head. There didn't seem to be a bump where he would have connected with the floor. Ri cleared her throat.

"Yes. Apparently you went quite slowly though. My husband managed to catch you before you hit the floor and Shinza took the baby. You didn't fall. You're all right, apart from being utterly exhausted and possibly anaemic, by the look of your pallor. Michi had it much worse. You nearly broke his arm."

Sasuke raised his brows slightly in surprise. That he didn't remember at all. It had been a blur, and he'd been mostly worried about Mikoto. "Ah. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, it wasn't your fault." Ri told him, shifting Mikoto to one hand as Sasuke began to sit up. Her fingers touched the centre of his chest and pressed inward, gently. "Careful. Slowly. You might not have hit your head, but you sure were out. You're not going anywhere tonight. Not for the next couple of days, if I can help it."

"It's fine. I'm fine," Sasuke said, automatically. "Where are my clothes? I need to get moving."

"What you need is food and rest. You can't travel as you are, you wouldn't last a day. And it's pouring out; they're predicting the annual fall storms already. What kind of doctor would I be if I just sent you into such inclement weather as this?"

"I could think of a couple examples," Sasuke muttered as both Orochimaru and Kabuto sprung to mind. He pushed the pillow behind him and sat up, holding his arms out for his daughter. Mikoto cooed happily as she was returned to him and he studied her briefly, making sure she was exactly as he'd left her. Ri leaned over and picked up a jug of water from the nightstand, pouring a glass for her guest. Practiced eyes watched the little family, carefully. Something seemed very off about this traveller; her whole presence screamed runaway or even fugitive, but from what? Her husband? Or...

"You're fatigued. You most likely collapsed from lack of proper food," Ri told him. She watched closely as the draping sleeves of his yukata slipped down and, unbeknownst to him, revealed the faint traces of bruises, scars and marks. Some were old. Shinza had informed her that the woman had been a kunoichi and probably most of her scars had been gained in the field. But some were newer. Some held certain tell-tale signs of their manifestations. And some looked very much like the tracks created by restraints. Sasuke caught her scrutiny and frowned.

"You said you were a doctor? Did you examine me?"

"I am. And I looked over you, yes," she replied. "Checked your vitals, checked for injuries. I wouldn't go further than that without consent unless there was an obvious need. However, if you'd like me to I-"

"Is my daughter alright?" Sasuke interrupted her, still slightly brusque at the fact that he was touched without his say-so. Him and his things. If the past ten years had proven anything at all, it was that he'd become very possessive of his things. "Did you look at her as well?"

"I thought it prudent, considering your… circumstances." Ri admitted, carefully. "Please don't take offence."

Sasuke had little time for offenses. "And?"

"She's fine. A little underweight; a little nappy rash, but she's fine." Ri motioned to the water. "Drink. You're dehydrated. A strange concept in Ame, to be sure, but please, have a few glasses. You need it. I'll bring up some food a bit later too. Shinza said your name is Tsutsui-san, is that right?"

"Mm," Sasuke nodded, letting Mikoto sprawl on his chest, her little hands grabbing for the ends of his hair. Ri leaned forward slightly.

"Tsutsui-san, have you experienced any blackouts before? Have you recently suffered a head injuries or falls where you may have knocked yourself unconscious? Or taken any new medications?" When Sasuke shook his head no, the doctor began listing off a small barrage of questions - mostly as a place to start looking for evidence or trauma or something that might cause recurring fainting spells. Her ornery patient didn't much enjoy the grilling, but Ri was careful about her inquisition and refrained asking questions that might seem invasive. It was skimming the surface, but that was enough to help; she'd had worse.

"I've worked at the general hospital for many years before I started my clinic," she said when Sasuke had finished, slowly refilling his glass when he handed it back to her. "And a free drop-in office before that. I see a lot of people come and go; I've had experience with wayfarers and explorers and I don't like to let my patients wander away without as cleaner bill of health as I can give them. Especially not when they've been a gracious guest and made my daughter so pleased with herself."

"...She beat Yuhi again, didn't she," Sasuke smiled finally. Well, smirked.

Ri nodded. "Six times. I've never seen the like."

"Then I'm surprised. She had the ability for it. Perhaps you weren't looking hard enough." It was a tactless jab - typical of Sasuke - but he couldn't help thinking of his father and Fugaku's own legitimate surprise when presented with his younger son's abilities. Itachi had been the golden child for so long, it was clear that the Uchiha leader had simply forgotten that Sasuke had talent as well. His mother had said that Fugaku had only spoken of him when they were alone, but what good was that to Sasuke? Why couldn't he have told his son how proud he was of all his hard work when it was clear that his brother was some form of natural shinobi superman? Sasuke was smart, able; a fast learner. But he wasn't the godly force that Itachi had been. He couldn't remain notable against that capacity, not even to his own father. There was a bullshit call in there somewhere and Sasuke knew it. He'd always known.

But Ri pursed her lips amicably, as she studied her charge. "I guess so. I don't know much about her training. I really just go by what her sensei reports. Ame was a fortified village, for sure, but it was built around a strong industrial sector that had more to do with capital and trade. You'll find that many of the families - especially up here in sector 3 – tend to be from that kind of background rather than an established ninja clan. We aren't Konoha; we aren't accustomed to the Shinobi way from an early age. I wouldn't know if Shinza was a master or a disaster unless she made an obvious mistake. But she was quick to tell me how skilled you were. Your little one's in for a treat if you mean to teach her as well."

"I don't know, I hadn't thought of it." Ignoring the loud castigation from his inner self - Yes. Yes absolutely. She was Uchiha. She'd be a genius like him. She was…- who simply couldn't believe Sasuke might consider any other path for Mikoto besides that of a ninja, Sasuke just shrugged. "Life for a kunoichi is rough, I'd rather see what she wants to do."

"I couldn't agree with you more," Ri said. "I've had two decade's worth of patching up ninja from all over the world. In both wars and between. It makes me wonder what is so wrong with their societies that they feel they need to resort to such violence. I've been to some lands in the south that have never heard of shinobi, or hidden villages. They seem a lot happier, I can tell you."

"Then why let your daughter study?" Sasuke said, cocking a brow. "If you're so against what Ninja are, why do you let her train?"

"Well it was just the sword play to start off with. That was her Grandfather's fault. My dad had been an artist and a pacifist all his life. He used to carry a blade fashioned out of bone that he would dance and perform with, trying to distract us from the war. Back then, the upper middle class of Ame had tried to turn the conflict into a historical tale; a fable. Something that made living under Hanzō a little more palatable. We separated ourselves from his regime and instead romanticized the idea of the shinobi warrior, even though we had our own hidden village within our very city walls. But then the war was over and curiosity began to take hold. The collaborative exams became popular and suddenly all the kids were learning kenjutsu. They treat it like a sport and of course Shinza didn't want to be left out. Michi and I held off on the academy for a long time, hoping she'd get it out of her system. But then the Great Shinobi Peace Campaign came along and that was all she could talk about. The Hero of Konoha; Uzuwaki Naruto-"

"Uzumaki," Sasuke corrected her, absently.

"Yes, that's the one. That blond boy," Ri sighed. "All the young kids are signing into the group training programs because of him."

"He has that effect on people. So I hear."

"Well he does seem like a nice boy, but I don't know. On one hand he is bringing all the Hidden Villages together as a union, which might help stop some of the squabbling between them. But on the other it's really just swapping one regime for another, isn't it?"

"That's what ninja know best," Sasuke muttered, bitterly. "How to follow suit. Might as well shed wool while they're at it."

"Ultimately, it's up to her," Ri continued pushing her glasses up her nose while she let that comment settle. Tsutsui may have once been a ninja - a good one, apparently - but that didn't mean she'd ever liked it. And she had a point. "Shinza will do what she wants to do. She always has. It's my job to support her, not swaddle her. But I do have it in mind to take her along to the hospital with me when she's a little older. See some of the veterans I've been treating over the years. And, if perhaps you might have a moment, Tsutsui-san…?"

"What?" Sasuke frowned a little. "Talk to her? You want me to talk to Shinza about being a shinobi?"

"She was hanging off every word you said," Ri chuckled. "Michi said she had stars in her eyes like he'd never seen."

"Hn," Sasuke replied, typically. It did make sense, although he wasn't sure he was the best advocate to explain a normal shinobi lifestyle - especially not that of a kunoichi. But perhaps a few words before he left? It wasn't asking much and it would be best to leave on a high note. He might also be able to work in some way to tell them all to forget about him; forge some kind of ninja espionage story, smoke and mirrors and all that fancy shit. "I guess."

Ri grinned widely, revealing a charming crooked smile. "Thanks, I appreciate it. I think it's important that Shinza receives a good first-hand account, one woman to another," she didn't notice Sasuke blanch at that. "I'll let you rest then, Tsutsui-san. Get some sleep."

"No, I've really got to…" Sasuke began, before he petered off. Did he have to leave? Did he? Right this minute? This house was so warm and it had been weeks since he'd slept in an actual bed with sheets and pillows and a comforter. He'd been used to living on the road for a long time during his travels, but there was always something to be said for getting a sound rest every now and then. He also had to stop ignoring the fact that Ri was a doctor. He paused for a moment, fingers splayed over the tie of his yukata before he cleared his throat. "Uh. Kodomi-sensei?"

"Mhm?" Ri said, resting her chin on the heel of her hand.

Sasuke began to motion to his middle, wanting to ask; wanting to know. Then, in the same fluid movement, he slowly moved his hand away. He knew he should let the doctor see him. He needed to make sure his son was healthy, that his development was progressing soundly despite his limited diet and the exorbitant amount of stress feasting on his system. But she would want to examine him. She would want to want to put her hands on him, touch him. That's what doctors did. It was a fact that Sasuke just couldn't stomach, and he wasn't surprised that when she reached toward him, he shuddered slightly.

"Nothing," he said, dusting his fingers lightly over Mikoto's arm. "It's nothing."

"I see," Ri's fingers dropped to the blanket, which she tugged at gently - smoothing it over. She leaned back in her chair and pushed her glasses up her nose. Sasuke was putting up a damn good cover, but that tension was all too real and his impulse to flee was practically tattooed on his face. This was a person in need of help and Ri would never turn down a request - not even if that plea was entirely unspoken. "But if that nothing turns into something, I want you to know that you can talk to me. Please, stay with us as long as you like."

"Just tonight. Then I need to go" Sasuke repeated in a quiet voice. "I'll need to leave as soon as possible. We have to keep moving."

"Well while you rest," Ri continued. "Let's arrange some food and some new clothes for you. You know Michi wouldn't stop talking about you all afternoon. He considers you his new muse."

"Didn't I almost break his arm?"

Ri laughed a little "Oh, that didn't faze him. Granted, he was surprised, but he was more concerned about you and the girls. They've been skittish as young deer; I had to send them on an errand."

"Sorry," Sasuke mumbled. "I didn't mean to cause a fuss."

"Cause a fuss, by all means. Fusses are something we're used to here. You did meet my husband, didn't you?"

"I did meet her, yes," Sasuke answered delicately. "Or-"

"You can use either," Ri cut in, smoothly. "He's my husband and Shinza's father and sometimes he wears a suit and sometimes she wears something more feminine. Michi prefers being free of the formalities of gender; he feels that he's able to be himself this way and he finds that his customers appreciate his integrity."

"Customers?" Sasuke's brow furrowed a little, before he realized. "The store. He sells clothes, then?"

"Sells, makes, designs," Ri said, proudly. "Michi runs a little boutique out the back of our house. It's mostly catalogue orders, but he has customers drop in from time to time. He asked that when you're feeling better, you might come through and have a look. He'd love to give you some new clothes as a thank you for helping our daughter."

"I… I think your hospitality is enough," Sasuke replied, but Ri held up a hand to stop the excuse before it started. She reached down into a small paper tote on the floor and pulled out what appeared to a tiny little bodysuit in plush grey material. The edging was piped in a bright yellow and it sported the picture of a little green toad on the front. It was about as cheerful as an item of clothing could be and because of that Sasuke eyed it suspiciously. It reminded him a little too much of someone who liked both bright colours and toads and he wasn't sure if he wanted that constant tang of bitter nostalgia around him.

But it was sort of...cute.

"Michi made these by the boxful when I was pregnant with Shinza." Ri explained. "Said he was so inspired, he couldn't stop sewing them. They're usually blank, but Shinza asked him to sew the toad on the front. She likes toads; she thinks they get a bad rap for their appearance but she thinks it makes them charming."

"Toads are actually pretty powerful. It's good that Shinza shows respect for them." Sasuke murmured, thinking briefly on Gamabunta and Naruto. He'd never shown his own summons too much attention other than asking them to perform their usual tasks, but he did respect them. Garuda and Aoda were both powerful in their own right, and Manda had been strong enough to even keep Orochimaru on his scaly toes. Sasuke reached out with his free hand and took the baby-gro, examining it the craftsmanship closely.

"I'd wanted to dress her in it before you woke," Ri said. "But I didn't have the chance. We'd really like you to have it, Tsutsui-san."

"Sarada," Sasuke corrected her, softly. Clothes. Real clothes for Mikoto. Real ones. Not rags. Not shredded hand me downs. He'd never seen Mikoto wearing anything like this before. He didn't even know how to get her in it, he'd hadn't ever dressed her in anything that had sleeves. Or feet. "Thanks. It'll come in handy."

Watching as Sasuke held the jumpsuit in front of him, somewhat trying to gauge the size of it against his daughter, Ri smiled. "How about we try it on her later, mm? There are other colours too. Clothes for her and clothes for you."

"I'm going to see Michi later, aren't I? It never was an option," Sasuke conceded, with only the slightest air of defeat. To deny now would just be rude. "I suppose the kimono has a few too many holes. It's not really keeping out the cold anymore."

Ri smiled. "Well, unless you wanted to let the rain in, it's probably better to go with something a little less… airy. And old fashioned. It's gorgeous, but a relic."

Sasuke blinked. He hadn't thought that his clothes would make him stand out, but the further he got from the rural villages to the more contemporary flat lands, the more out of touch he seemed. Perhaps a new outfit wasn't such a bad idea.

"Well then," he said, settling down into his bed a little. "Let's see if Michi can help me blend in a little more. Can't go wandering around looking like some goat-farming grandma dressed me."

"You know, strangely enough the pattern is one from the northern villages of Tsuchi." Ri raised her brows as she pointed to the article of clothing in question. It hung on the back of the door, looking somewhat despondent. "Typically goat farming country."

"Oh," Sasuke replied, mysteriously. "Imagine that."

Michi's store was small but expertly structured in order to showcase his collections in the best possible light. Sasuke made his way through the rows of racks toward the workroom at the end, gazing over piece after piece of glorious tailoring - each one different from the last. There were contemporary styles: hooded sweatshirts, casual pants, tees. There were traditional Kimono, suits, long elegant dresses (which to Sasuke seemed to evoke no sense of practical application whatsoever), strange, ribbon-trussed, puffy numbers (once again, even less evidence of usefulness) and an abundance of children's clothing that hung happily on their chromed rails like little compact rainbows. Sasuke reached out, letting his free hand slide over the textures of the items as he walked past them, Mikoto clutched closely to his chest. She seemed mesmerized and he wondered if she liked the colours. When he reached the door, he hesitated a little, hand raised as though to knock on the doorjamb.

"Uh," he attempted.

Michi turned in her chair, now dressed in a long blue tunic, black loose pants and a blonde wig that curled just under her chin. Behind her was a wall completely covered in wigs of every colour and shape imaginable; all on their own sightless, faceless polystyrene heads. Below, there were rows upon rows of small plastic drawers, each marked meticulously with hashtags and numbers - obviously to hold the stock in order. Sasuke had been in costume shops before for disguises (Kakashi's idea. No one quite understood the point, but he insisted), but this was something different. Michi let Sasuke's gaze wander for a moment before he put the fabric he'd been stitching down and folded his hands in his lap.

"Tsutsui-san. I'm sorry if I startled you before. I just got a little carried away. I really hope I didn't-"

"You didn't," Sasuke cut in. "Your wife was right; I was exhausted. I… blanked out for a second."

"But you seemed-" Michi implored. She seemed paler; shaken. Sasuke had to admit, he had probably scared the shit out of all of them but the reaction seem strange on a person that size. If he'd thought about it, Sasuke might have come to the conclusion that Michi reminded him a little of Juugo: someone who hated being so large and imposing and often counterbalanced their appearance and physical power with a gentle disposition and a soft voice. Perhaps that why Michi was as she was? Sasuke just shook his head.

"There are ghosts in my past. I don't care to talk about them. It wasn't you, Michi-san. Thank you for making sure I wasn't hurt. Sorry about…" He motioned to Michi's arm and Michi just shrugged.

"You hit pretty hard with a wooden sword, I'd hate to see you in a real fight."

"Hn," Sasuke offered, eager to changed the subject. He tipped his head, gesturing to the showroom behind him. "Ri said you had something for me?"

Michi brightened, pushing up to her feet. "Things, actually! I've picked out a few. Some aren't entirely practical, but I'd love to get a photograph." She pointed to the wall by her large, intricate looking sewing machine where the faces of many young pretty girls and boys, and many older, beautiful men and woman smiled back inside a collage of inspiration. Some old, some young, all full of character. Sasuke stared at it for a moment.

"Maybe," he said, uncommitted. He followed Michi to the dressing room where a rack of clothes had been left out and Michi held the curtain to one side, smiling as Sasuke entered. Inside the room was bedecked with a large mirror, a seat and several hooks on the wall which already boasted a few outfits. Sasuke glanced over them without much enthusiasm, then a small table to his right caught his attention. It was positioned next to the bench and had, artfully arranged on its surface, a number of white and black satin undergarments - each as alien and utterly petrifying as the last.

Michi didn't seem to notice his hesitance and gestured to the sets of bras and underpants jovially. "Well if you're getting a whole new outfit, you need a good foundation, don't you?"

Sasuke looked scandalized. "Did you… While I was-"

"What? No!" Michi held up her hands, eyes wide. "I guessed! It's my business to know proportions, to try and help customers find a comfortable fit! It was an educated guess, that's all."

"Fine," Sasuke consented, marching into the changing room. He let Michi draw the curtain behind him, before he laid Mikoto down on the floor, arranging some of the cushions from the bench around her to keep her safe. She cooed up at him as he removed his clothes and he smiled back at her - trying desperately not to glance in the mirror. He still had a very hard time looking at his own body. He barely recognized himself any more. That alone was almost as unnerving as the first and second pregnancy. Grumbling, he tugged up the knickers, feeling perfectly ridiculous wearing something so flimsy, then grabbed for the bra. And suddenly, the art of dressing became so much more complex.

It had hooks. It had… what? Round bits? Cuppy… things? He hadn't worn a bra before - the Kakkou hadn't cared much for providing clothes other than shifts and blankets for their subjects. He guessed the loops with the adjustable sliders went over his shoulders and obviously his breasts went in the bits that looked like half a ball glued on a semi-circular wirey thing and it all hooked in at the back… But how the hell did one get into it? Sasuke may have been a genius at many things; crossdressing wasn't one of them. After several fights with the straps and an elbow to the eye, he found that doing the clasps up the front, then twisting it around and sort of hoisting it up seemed to be the best option. Sighing at the effort, Sasuke shuffled the underwear around until it was comfortable, then reached for the first item Michi had suggested.

When he pushed back the curtain, he stepped out wearing an oversized tunic - much like the stylist's own - slacks that ended at his calves and a light windbreaker that covered his arms. Michi beamed.

"There! Practical, but shapely at the same time. Does it fit alright?"

Sasuke had to admit, he was a little impressed with Michi's ability to measure him. "Uh yeah. It's fine." He held out his hand, letting Michi pass him the next hangar. "This'll probably be ok."

"And the underwear?"

There was a muttered string of consonants somewhat in the affirmative. The next time Sasuke emerged, he was wearing a black mini skirt with a fitted white tee-shirt and a cropped, tan coloured jacket made out of heavy drill. His knees were pressed together and he crossed his arms over his chest, feeling ridiculous.

"Can't I wear something under the skirt bit?" He muttered, finally. Michi just tapped her lips and skipped a few of the next selections while she looked Sasuke over.

"That was not a good choice, I admit. I just wanted to see what it looked like on you."

"The jacket's ok." Sasuke added. "But the rest… I don't think I'd get good use out of it."

"Let's try some more pants," Michi agreed, stacking a few the changing room, ignoring the groan that came from inside the cubicle. By the time he'd found the perfect fit and had gathered new items together, Sasuke was just getting unchanged anyway, curtain or no. He might have had a woman's body, but he hadn't the typical self conscious attitude that his peers had been cursed with to go with it. These people were none the wiser to his strange circumstances, and once he'd become accustomed to her presence, he actually found that Michi was a help more than a hindrance and helped quell his nervousness with her chatter. She didn't touch Sasuke more than he wanted; she only helped when she was asked. Otherwise she would sit on the floor by Mikoto, keeping her company.

Sasuke tried on cargo-style pants, denim pants (from the south! Michi had announced. Aren't they neat? They call them jeans), short pants, three-quarter pants. Loose pants that seemed to envelop him, tight pants that just emphasized the skinniness of his knees (My ass falls out when I bend down, Sasuke observed. Everyone's does, Michi explained). There were shirts, tee-shirts, embellished tops, tanks, bandeaus (I supposed you could hide kunai in here, Sasuke said. Michi just carefully agreed). Overall, by the time he'd picked out a few items, Sasuke wasn't quite hating it as much as he had at first. Even when Michi handed him one of the frilly lolita style dresses and begged him to try it on, just for a moment, he only blushed about as pink as the fabric but stepped into it anyway. He had to admit, despite all the lacing and the boning and the yards and yards of fabric, it was excellent for concealing weapons. He could have carried a whole arsenal in there and no one would have been the wiser.

"I need a photograph!" Michi announced, after 'floofing' the skirt for the fiftieth time. Snapped out of his daze where the dress had become some form of wearable death dealer, Sasuke paled a little, glancing down. There was a labyrinth of lace upon him. Little white gloves with pearl beading. Petal-coloured stockings with little hearts on them. He'd really been spacing out - when the hell had he put these on?

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Oh. Of course, I'm sorry." Michi was the one to blush this time. "Let's get you something else… Would you like to try some hakama?"

Sasuke nodded but he couldn't help noticing the way his host seemed so disconsolate. After all, hadn't Ri said something about muses? "If you took one, a photo I mean, what happens with it?"

"I put it on my wall. It's not for the catalogue or any advertising," Michi explained. "It's just to remind me of how inspiring people can be. But it has to be in something you like. I think this looks gorgeous on you, but it's not right, I can see that."

"I'm not inspiring," Sasuke told him, easing out of the dress. "I just-" Do what I want. "-do what suits me best. That's not inspiring."

"Isn't it?" Michi called from the depths of the shop. "I think that's very inspiring. You know, I've met a lot of people over the years; people who do as I do, who are interested in being what they want to be. I think they've all given impetus toward my desire to help others."

"Other people who dress like women?" Sasuke wasn't being intentionally blunt, but really his mother and brother had been the most tactful of the family. Once they were gone, the idea of social etiquette became secondary to communicating an idea. If anything, Sasuke was just overly pragmatic. Michi appeared at the curtain, holding a women's hakama and kosode.

"Yes. And women who cut their hair short and want to appear more like men. And people who like to become a blend of the two. Do you think that's not right?"

"It doesn't affect me," Sasuke answered, taking the clothes and standing still as Michi helped him dress. "So I don't really have an opinion. People's business is their own."

"That's what my family always told me," Michi said smoothing the back of the garment. She frowned, then pulled out another hanger with a kofurisode draped on it instead. "Let's use this instead of the kosode, the lines are more elegant."

"Your family didn't approve of you dressing this way?" Sasuke raised a brow. He couldn't say he was surprised, he'd never heard of it before outside of a few areas near Konoha's entertainment districts.

"No. But I was one son out of seven," Michi smiled. "I copied my sister, my only sister. She wasn't feminine in the least, but all her friends were. They'd be into their makeup and dresses, and she didn't want to be left out, even though she wasn't interested. She'd buy the products, make the clothes and try them out on me. Then she felt she was up with the trends without having to… succumb, I guess. We're a family of designers, tailors and dressmakers. My parents taught us all the trades, we each learned our separate speciality."

"And yours was for making women's clothes to fit…" Sasuke peered behind him as Michi did up the fastenings on the hakama. "Men?"

"Not at first. My family didn't care that I wore women's clothing, or even that I occasionally asked if they might refer to me as chan, rather than kun. Even Zhe, Zher and Zim - you know, gender non-specific. They felt it was part of my artistic development and they would encourage me. But they did object to my desire to join the medical volunteers in the Third War. My father was not supportive of the hidden villages; he liked the protection, but he felt they were getting too big for themselves. He hoped they would fight themselves into extinction, for all he cared, but I had friends in those ranks and I couldn't let them go without at least trying to help. I didn't know how much a tailor could do on the field - very little, probably - so I decided to join the travelling hospital."

Michi finished securing the ties and turned Sasuke around. "That was where I met them. The ones who'd been left alive. Saved, but they didn't think so. Amputees, traumatized, beaten - these were ninja who had been butchered, tortured. Suffered injuries that would change them forever."

Sasuke felt his breath catch in his throat. He must have said something, as Michi spoke again, but the sound was starting to thicken in his ears.

"Men who… well. What can I say? The enemy had decided to take away their ability to have children, there was nothing left. Women whose organs were damaged for fear they'd reproduce and strengthen their clans; chests were hacked at, scarred, completely wrecked. It was a horrific war; a brutal war. It left so many people feeling as ugly as they'd been treated. I couldn't stand for it. But I was a rich merchant's son, I wasn't a soldier. I would have probably gotten someone killed on the field. So I helped them the only way that I could. I wasn't a doctor, but I had good hands for stitching and I went to work with the recovering division who specialized in secondary care and plastic surgery."

Michi stopped for a moment, smiling a little. "That's where I met Ri. She held the same views I did. It was one thing to mend a ninja and put them back into action, it was another to heal someone. Our patients were traumatized, hurt and lost so we tried to help them find themselves again. For many, it was becoming a different person, sometimes a different gender. Some had operations, some preferred just to use costume. I started making them clothes to wear after they left the hospital and I found that many would return to me for more. Some wanted to try different things, some decided to go back to the military and needed supportive wear or altered uniforms. I'd never seen my work so accepted and appreciated. But more than anything, I watched them go and I knew, I just knew, they left with a tiny scrap more hope for themselves. Even now I'm still in contact with some of them. After the war, the shop expanded and after Pain was gone, I started getting new customers from all over. Not just people who want to dress differently, but people who like my designs for what they are. Of course, I could still be working out of a little hut near Konoha for all I care, financial success wasn't the point. Isn't. Won't ever be. I feel rewarded because I'd like to think that I help. And that's all I ever wanted to do."

Sasuke swallowed, running his fingers over the silk of the kofurisode's sleeves. "But your daughter? She wants to be a shinobi. You'd be sending her out into a world that could do that to her. Treat her like those people you were caring for. Aren't you concerned about that?"

"It was a very different war," Michi reasoned. "Barbaric. Soulless. Even the fourth war was nothing like the third. Things are changing. Those up top? They're changing. By the time Shinza makes the academy - if she's even still interested in training - I think the whole shinobi regime will be completely rewritten. That Konoha boy's got a lot of work on his plate, but the Leaf have been strong instigators for peace. I think they'll succeed."

"Hn," Sasuke replied, forgetting himself as he turned toward the mirror to see how the pattern on the kofurisode fell. For a moment he was startled at how feminine he looked: his hair was longer and skirted his shoulders, his face was thinner and the outfit was tied in such a way that it seemed as though he had hips. He looked so different. He looked like his mother.

"Comfy?" Michi asked, breaking his thoughts. Sasuke nodded slowly, trying not to think of Mikoto's smile when she used to greet him on his way home from school. The smell of the freesias in her basket, her hair, the rustle of her shift as she walked.

"Mm. Yeah. But isn't this for special occasions?" He waved the sleeves gently, watching as their little wisteria flowers seemed to ripple on the blue-green fabric. "I think this is possibly more attention-grabbing than the old kimono."

"I suppose," Michi said quietly, "and yes, this one in particular was being saved for an occasion. It was meant to be my sister's for her graduation. During the war she had postponed her studies to go and fight on the front lines. She was always better at fighting. Best out of all of us, really. She wanted to prove herself. She didn't have to." Michi trailed off, watching as Sasuke toyed absently with the collar. A moment of silence passed between them, heavy and turgid with unspoken words. Then Sasuke said to Michi in the mirror.

"If you like, you can have a photo of this one."

Michi blinked, pushing up to her feet, slowly. "Are you… sure? I don't want you to feel obliged or anything. I mean-"

"Let me wear one of those," Sasuke pointed to Michi's wig. "And I'll do it. Perhaps if I look anything like your sister, I don't know. It might be… a remembrance. Or something."

"Rieko was six foot two, with short blonde hair and a freckles like a dappled pony." Michi laughed. "You couldn't look like her if you tried, Tsutsui-sensei. You might be tall, but you're half the size she was. Why else do you think that Hakama is swimming on you?"

Sasuke blushed. "I thought it was meant to."

"That's a very kind thought, though. Very kind. Let me get the camera and a style for you. I think I have an idea of what you'd suit." Michi disappeared for a few moments and returned with a rather modern looking camera and a handful of russet-coloured hair. "Here… let me help. It's not as hard as it looks."

After a slight tussle and a quick lesson on wig application, Sasuke was staring back at himself in the mirror, barely recognizing the shinobi who once was for the woman who appeared in the glass. Though his eyes were dark, the colour of the wig brightened them a little and warmed up the tone of his dull skin. It was a reddish chestnut brown, cut in soft layers and thin bangs which were swept to the side. It was long enough that he could tie it up, but short enough that maintenance would be easy and it added yet another layer of disguise that his changed figure could not. He no longer looked like an Uchiha. Now he could have been anyone. Now he was just another face in the crowd. It was almost comforting.

For the photograph itself Sasuke didn't so much as pose as he did stand and turn in a few directions, but that seemed to please Michi. He undressed again and pulled on a pair of hard wearing black pants that reached to mid-calf, a long sleeveless tunic over a black fitted tee shirt and a draping woolen jacket that could be criss-crossed over his body or left open. They were well-designed, would stretch over his stomach when it grew (not that Michi had any idea about that) and could layer easily for warmth. Lastly he needed an all purpose jacket - something to keep the weather out. While adjusting the wrap of the woolen coat, he reached blindly toward the hooks on the wall, fumbling for what he thought was an anorak. But the surprise came when he pulled it and glanced at his reflection. Sasuke stared.

It was an orange bomber. Paneled in black and with a high ribbed collar it was the exact replica of Naruto's signature look. The ninja tangerine. The Pea-brain in Pumpkin. Sasuke gaped, eyes wide as saucers, his mouth slightly open. He'd never worn Naruto's jacket before, but he'd been close enough to it to know what it felt like. Its texture. Its smell. And to remember the boy who wore it - who almost had to be released from it with a can opener, he was so attached to the damn thing. Sasuke had thrown it in a river once, forcing Naruto to wash it. He'd almost gained a black eye from his efforts, despite Naruto's lack of taijutsu finesse, there was something to be said for pure, senseless rage. This was the jacket of the boy who beat him, who had been the right to Sasuke's wrong; the win to his loss. The familiarity of it, coupled with the raw emotions that that such an article - such a colour - could propagate knocked Sasuke for six. His nose pinked and his stomach bottomed out. The lump that had grown in his throat nearly choked him. Tears welled and dropped without him realizing.

Naruto had been his constant. Constant friend and constant challenge and constant pain in the ass. But Naruto hadn't come for him now. Naruto was exactly where he wanted to be and he'd given up on Sasuke. He didn't need to stop Sasuke because Sasuke no longer posed a threat. He was missing. Gone. No longer someone to chase. And that meant Sasuke was finally exactly where he'd wanted to be.

Alone.

But alone was hard. And he had Mikoto and his new child to think of. He still hadn't decided what he was doing with them, but slowly over the minutes, over the hours, he knew he couldn't part with them. He couldn't part with a lot of things, they were just too hard to let go. Like this vermillion example of pure stupidity, tenacity and goddamn fucking stupid love, Naruto himself, that dobe, that asshole… He still couldn't let go.

Sasuke sobbed loudly, uncaring that Michi would hear him, unaware that Mikoto was cooing, trying to calm him. He'd pushed this damn colour away for so long, he'd blamed so willingly and it was all for nothing because everything had fucked up in the end. And even through that Naruto was still around him. The jacket had been hanging on a hanger, probably never worn by anyone before Michi stashed it in the fitting room. But somehow it was warm.

"I'm…" Michi was there, suddenly, crouching down beside Sasuke, who had crumpled to the floor, his hands crushed into his cheeks, drenched with his tears. "Oh, Tsutsui-san, I'm sorry. Is… Can I do anything? Can I help? I know it's an awful jacket, but they're so popular with the campaign and all. I just-"

"It's not awful," Sasuke said, his voice cracking. "It's just… over the top. Idiotic. Loud. Obnoxious. But it's not awful."

"Somehow I think you still don't like it that much." Michi chuckled lightly. she patted the floor near Sasuke's hands. "Do you want a tissue?"

Sasuke shook his head. "No. And no, I don't mind it. I never minded it." He paused for a second, before he sniffed and turned back to his host, his hand on his middle. Naruto had always been harping on about himself, but he never hesitated when it came to the welfare of others. He gave willingly and inspired charity - even in some of the most self-possessed people anyone could have ever met. He probably didn't know he was doing it because he was a complete moron, but that was the effect he had. Helping others. Helping himself...

Sasuke took a breath. "Michi, can you ask Kodomi-sensei if she can book me in for an appointment tomorrow? I have a few things that… I need to make sure are safe."

Four days later, Uchiha Sasuke, clad in fresh new clothes with a pack full of supplies, left Amegakure for the low, sloping hills of the mainland ahead. After a few days of solid rest and consistent meals, he had more energy than he'd had in months. Mikoto was cured of her rash and had even gained a few pounds. His unborn was eight weeks old, developing well and though Ri hadn't been able to tell the gender, Sasuke still thought it might be a boy. Ri had been eager for Sasuke to stay longer, she had deemed him far too small to carry what could be a large baby - as second children often tended to be - and she had worried for his safety in later months. Sasuke assured her he would be "home" by then. He didn't think a little white lie like that would be too troublesome.

Rejuvenated and liberated by his new disguise, Sasuke flicked a stray piece of auburn hair out of his eyes and pulled the fleece trim of his green parka down over his forehead. The orange replica had remained back in the racks of Michi's store as once again Sasuke left Naruto behind. But he made sure to hang it facing the door as he left, taking a long look before he turned around. He didn't want to see the back of it. He could only move forward from now.

A/N: Long chapter is long. Next we go back to the (almost) present. One day I'll prepare a proper timeline but not on this day. Thank you for your patience, enjoy giant chapter.