AN: Wow! A whole new chapter in just one week? Yup, That's right! Love you guys, you know that. That and of course, all of the chapters are written already, haha! But only a small gift to savor, I won't uploading the next one till the beginning of May (since according to my work, it's second the last one I believe. GASP) Yes, it's almost over. Only a few more chapters left my lovely followers.

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Enjoy!

Chapter 21: Permission

A small groan lifting from my lips brings me back to the conscious realm. My eyelids flutter open, glazed by a sleep that I didn't know how I obtained the night before. Opening and closing, my focus clears to see a pale ceiling lit by the morning sun peeking delicately through a pair of white flowing shades. The space where I'm laying feels familiar, however, it's not natural for me to be experiencing it right now. My head lulls to my right, gazing at a pink alarm clock with sticker flowers placed as decorations. As I squint to read the time, the hands remain still, as if it hasn't worked in years.

Slowly, I lift myself onto my weak elbows, blankly staring at my vague surroundings. I shift my sights from the twin-sized bed that I occupy to the powder desk, decorated with similar stickers that are on the cute alarm clock. I mumble a question or two, rubbing my eyes before stepping onto the kitten-face shaped rug beneath my feet. I blink around, wondering if I had woken up in a child's room. The answers begin to sink into me, and I come to the conclusion that I am in fact, in my old bedroom.

Why am I in my mother's home?

With questions still unanswered, I saunter groggily out of the bedroom and into the hallway, connecting to the bathroom and my mother's room. I see the door of the bathroom open with the lights on, and the noise of a running sink. I drag myself towards it, and standing under the doorframe, I plaster my sticky eyes against my mother.

"Oh, honey. You're awake," she comments when she notices me, smacking her lips with a new coat of neutral lipstick. She then greets me with a warm and color smile, coming to touch my upper arm with affection, "Are you feeling okay? You didn't drink too much last night, did you?"

"Mm, not too much." I answer with a croak. "I don't feel sick or anything, just really exhausted."

"You did knock on my door very late last night," she replies, roaming observant eyes over my disheveled form. "It must have been around 3 a.m., possibly closer to 4. I'm not too sure myself."

"Oh…sorry, I didn't know," I mutter, still confused by the whole situation. "Did I mention why?"

"Oh, you know. You said something about wanting to return my yukata to me," my mother says, forming an amused smile. "But it was already so late, and by looks of things at the time, I was afraid that you two wouldn't find your way back home. So I went ahead and allowed you both to stay the night."

Oh, that's right, the yukata—wait.

Both?

"Then that means…" my violet eyes snap open, fully awakened by the insinuation. "Lee-san is here, at your house?" My head shifts around my shoulders, as if by some chance he'll appear right around the corner, "Where is he?"

"Don't worry, honey." My mother chuckles at my frantic display of utter confusion, returning back to the bathroom mirror to continue her beauty regime. "Your roommate is sleeping downstairs on the couch."

I rub at the warming sensation against my forehead, "Oh, alright. This is just really strange…" I would have never imagined my roommate to be under the roof of my mother's house. That, or how I was magically able to wake him after his nap in the playground to physically walk together to my mother's house. I guess something's will always remain a mystery to me.

"I think I'll check up on him before going back to sleep," I tell my mother, who merely nods with a 'do what you need to do, honey.'

I pad back down the hallway towards the staircase leading to the first floor. At the base, I enter to the living room with a farm style décor. Just on top of the 14 year-old family wicker couch is my roommate, completely passed out and wrapped in a knitted wool blanket. I don't even have to be in front of him to hear the audible snores. After gazing at him for a second more, I decide that I can safely return to my room to get more needed sleep. As I walk up the stairs, my mother comes down, all prepped for the day.

"I'm going out to run some errands. I'm not sure how long I'll take, so if I'm not back by the time you leave, just make sure you lock the bottom lock on the front door," she informs me with a smile, squeezing my arms affectionately once more before descending down the stairs.

"Okay, mom. Thank you for everything," I call back with a smile.

Hearing my mother leave the house, I reenter my old bedroom, and allow myself to climb into bed with all the intentions of getting a few more hours of sleep.

o o o

It only seemed like a short amount of time had passed when I reopened my eyes. The bright early sun that was once a dull white has become a potent beam of yellow heat. I assume it's well past noon, just before the few hours of a fully exhausted day. A yawn escapes my mouth, dried and begging for a glass of cold water. I smack my lips at the thought, moaning softly as I lift my aching body.

Even with the extra hours of sleep, my whole being continues to feel deprived. I make a mental note to take a hot shower when I can, and slip into bed at an appropriate hour tonight.

Adjusting my bed-head and loose pajama top buttons, I exit my room and tiptoe down the stairs, cringing whenever a creak erupts underneath my toes. I sigh in relief when make it down without any excess noises. I do my best to tread cautiously past the living room where my roommate still remains utterly incapacitated, and head into the kitchen. I work quietly to pour myself a tall glass of water, and shuffle back into the living, sitting at the matching love seat near the couch.

I take careful sips to not disturb the peaceful silence. I prolong my stare directed at my roommate's sleeping form before shifting my sight along the various furniture pieces of my mother's house. I take a particular notice of the bookshelf filled with my mother's choice of mystery novels, and possibly, some of my late father's well-liked political satires.

I motion to lift myself from the seat, until I see my roommate shift inside his blanket cocoon. I freeze when his round eyes gradually open halfway, rolling lazily in their sockets until they fall upon me. They gaze at me for what seems to be forever, until I witness him gulp down the morning saliva in his mouth before speaking.

"Yamada-san…" Lee rasps my name, and although I assume he want's to say more, he stiffens. His face twists into an irrepressible discomfort, and I can almost see the color draining from his face. His upper body lurches over the side of the couch, as he slaps a hard hand over his mouth making uncontrollable gagging noises.

Uh oh. Not good.

I've seen this position before. More so done by my best friend during her young promiscuous years. From memory, I always seemed to be the one to watch all of her impressive drinks from the previous night just fall onto the carpet of my room. It was like having a cat that threw up hairballs every often…except without the cat.

I leap to my feet at the horrifying recollections, "W-wait. Hold it in, Lee-san! I'm going to bring you a garbage can," I say, slamming my drink onto the coffee table and stumbling all the way back to the kitchen. I fling the lower sink cabinets open, snatching the pale and rushing to my roommate's side.

Dropping to my knees, I place the garbage just beneath his slumping form. In a rather polite attempt, my roommate brings up a palm to cover my eyes from the impending sight. In no time at all, his hand catches the edges and bring the can closer to his face. I wince when I hear the slopping sounds hit the bottom of the pale. The first retching episode ends, but sure enough, a shiver shakes his whole entire body and he heaves forward as another wave of expulsion takes over.

"You're doing good, Lee-san." I say, and although currently blind, I search the air for his upper back and pat it in an encouraging manner.

A fit of coughs begin where my sentence ends, followed by spits of left over backwash. Gathering that my roommate is at the last of his incident, I lift up and grab my glass of water, retuning back onto my knees by his side. I wait until his face separates from the opening of the garbage can.

"Here, rinse your mouth," I state, motioning the glass of water to him. He settles the can down before taking the glass and swirling the water in his mouth. Giving the glass back to me, he again lifts a hand to cover my eyes before spitting.

"Thank you, Yamada-san," I hear him say before he uncovers my sight.

"You're welcome," I smile, standing up and taking the garbage to dispose of it properly.

Once I do, I make sure to rinse the pale before placing it back underneath the kitchen sink. I fetch another glass of water and shuffle back into the living room, taking a seat on a small piece of couch next to my roommate's lying form.

"Do you feel better?" I ask, revealing a fresh glass of water for him to take.

"I do, but I am utterly spent," he informs me blearily, sitting up and taking the water. There's no hesitation from him as he gulps it down, releasing an exhausted breath, "I just do not really understand where that came from and…" he lowers the glass, his round eyes surveying the unfamiliar room. "Where exactly are we?"

"We're at my mother's house," I inform him. "I take it you don't really remember anything from last night."

I figured.

"Well, I remember having dinner with you and everyone, the festival games, dancing. The fireworks show, of course," he stares at the ceiling, squinting to find an invisible answer. "Then, sometime after that I cannot seem to place my finger on it." His attention returns to me, "Could you tell me exactly what happened, Yamada-san?"

"Oh, well, you sort of…" I avert my gaze shyly to my hands folding against my lap, hesitant to speak any further; "Had a few cups of sake with Haruka, Jin and I at a bar stall?"

There's a pause while my roommate digests the pieces of my sentence. I squeak when I feel my roommate capture my shoulder, turning me to face him squarely.

"That is not good. Please tell me everything I did in detail," he speaks seriously, yet his undertone is dripping with a veiled affection, "I did not do anything to you, did I?"

"O-Oh, no, no," I stutter shaking my head, and leaning back as if his intimate speak were a tangible thing. "Nothing like that. You were a lot of fun, actually."

His brows furrow at my statement, as if not fully believing me. I clear my throat to say more, "Okay, well, you did sort of break a game stall, but that's about it. Everything else was great, and we had an overall good time."

"I see, as long as no one got hurt, then I suppose that is good news," he nods slowly in acceptance. There's a short pause as he eyes me intently, "I am not sure why, but I still feel as if something important happened. Are you sure that was all?"

Hm, was there something else? I'm pretty sure I mentioned everything—?

A realization gradually sinks into my working thoughts, and I recall stealing my roommate's lips just as he lay drunk and unconscious in the park last night. That, and the subtle confessions of our feelings towards one another. Oh my lord, is that even legal? The suddenness of the memory pumps all the blood to my face, causing my complexion to turn a deep red. I feel the pulse of my heartbeat through my cheeks.

Damn you, alcohol.

"Yamada-san, your face is a whole different color," Lee points out, and I almost perspire at the observation. "Did something else happen then?"

P-Please stop asking me questions! I'm a terrible liar!

"N-no, nothing else," I gulp. "Just, you know—this and that, and what not."

"Yamada-san, although I do love charades, I have never been very good at it," he admits almost too honestly. "Even Neji and Tenten can attest to that! Although, in my defense, how was I supposed to know that Tenten was choking on that slice of beef? I thought she was pantomiming a saltshaker when she was jumping up and down. I thought I was correct when she slapped me, but when it happened a second time….safe to say I did not get my point afterwards."

"That is so fantastic, Lee-san. Great story," I play along with my roommate, relieved that his train of thought magically shifted from my utter lack persuasion. Of course, his story is rather funny, considering its well within his loveable character. What a goof ball; I break in an entertained smile before I speak again, "Hey, Lee-san. Come upstairs with me to the bathroom. I'm sure we both could use a little teeth brushing; my mouth is starting to taste like left-over rice that's been sitting over night."

My roommate whole-heartedly agrees with me on the notion, and allows me to motion us upstairs. Rummaging through my mothers bathroom cabinets, I'm able to find an extra toothbrush for him. As we brush our teeth side by side, I feel my cheeks tint with pink when I catch my roommates round eyes in the mirror. Unable to control my invasive staring, I have to force myself to turn my cheek away.

Once we finish, I shoo my roommate out of the bathroom to use the toilet. When I resurface into the hallway I don't see him. When I pass my room, I notice Lee taking an interest in something on my dresser. The embarrassment of him venturing into my childhood bedroom sparks an involuntary reaction.

"Lee-san! What're you—oh gosh."

I begin blubbering like an idiot, zigzagging around my room and stuffing all of my juvenile belongings into draws or underneath other things to hide from plain sight. Especially that ridiculous TeenGirl magazine I had bought specifically to learn how to get a boyfriend. Girls shouldn't even think about dating when I was that age! I break in with the mental words of wisdom. They should be focusing on school, and other important things like— knowing that you can't put laundry detergent in the dishwasher; they're totally different for a reason!

"Yamada-san," my roommate speaks my name with endearment, coming to sit on my floral-pop decorated bed. I almost gasp when I find that he's somehow retrieved a photo album of mine. Where did he even get that? I don't even remember where I put it! He smiles brightly from a particular photo towards me, "You had the utmost cutest cheeks and arms when you were little. I think you may even have been heavier as a baby than me!"

"Oh jeez. I look like a ten pound croissant," I sigh at the multiple pictures, taking in every roll as if it were buttered. I take a defeated seat next to my roommate, "I don't know how my mother did it, but she did."

"Well, Romi-san is a very strong and capable woman, I can tell." He nods profoundly before turning the next page. "There's a lot of dogs in this picture, but I don't see any here. Why's that?"

"Oh, that picture is when I first started my part-time job dog walking my neighbors dogs," I smile at the sparkle in my younger self, gleaming with a sense of pride. It was one of the first jobs I ever took to help my mother financially. It wasn't much, but it helped. I laugh a little at a faint recollection; "I remember it took me hours to walk all those dogs. Every time we ran into someone else walking their dog, all of them just had to sniff its butt. And I don't even want to mention what happened to me when they saw a squirrel—" I'm garnered with a look of questioning from my roommate and I'm pressed for more. "Well, let's just say that my dentist later that month recommended retainers for a while."

With gentle hands, I take the photo album from my roommate and set it off to the side. These same hands take his own, motioning him to stand with me, "I actually want you to meet someone."

I guide my roommate and I back downstairs, bringing him in front of a small cherry wood cabinet in the living room. I motion us to sit on the flat pillows directly in front. Once we're comfortable, I reach to open the ornate doors embedded with gold and intricate carvings. A picture of my father smiling welcomes us, as candles, bells, and incense burners surround his frame. My roommate sends me a look of interesting quality, one that I give a faint smile in response to before lighting a few of the candles and incense. I ring a small bell before placing my hands together along with my roommate, who joins me in a silent prayer.

"Hello, father. It's been a while, huh?" I say with a flutter in my voice, guilty for not setting aside more time to visit. "I hope you're not too busy to meet someone today. I brought my good friend Lee-san to see you. He's a very nice person, and an excellent Shinobi."

"I-It is an honor to finally to meet you, sir!" Lee speaks up with a mixture of surprise and perhaps a bit of his own fluster. Gradually, his large eyebrows sew into a look of resolution as he bows respectfully onto his hands, practically touching the floor with the tip of his nose. "I understand that not just anyone can replace the love and protection of a father, however; as a man in your daughter's life, I swear to you that I will ensure her safety and happiness for as long as there is blood and breath in my body. Please grant me permission to carry that responsibility for you!"

My violet hues had grown into a size of immeasurable proportions. They stared so genuinely upon Lee's back; lost and swelling with a gloss that refused to dissipate. Slowly, they shift to meet my father's image, and I'm certain, the smile present upon my fathers face had lifted higher into his cheeks.

"Did your father say anything?" my company asks me promptly, and when my attention returns back to Lee, I notice he is eagerly staring at me.

"He said…" I feel my violet eyes lower, unable to return to those black pearls pouring so much into me. It's difficult to focus when my eyes are glazed in such an emotional stupor. I feel my heartbeat with every word spoken; "I leave everything to you. Thank you for your hard work."

"Yosh!" Lee cheers and throws both fists in the air as a showcase of victory. Once he settles, he releases a nervous laugh, scratching the bridge of his nose in a sheepish manner, "That was incredibly nerve racking. I hope you did not mind me asking your father something so odd."

There were little words that I could say in that exact moment. My mother came home soon after, and brought groceries to prepare a dinner for all of us to enjoy as a family of three. All the while, I could only stare at my roommate with no words to express myself. The conversation between Lee and my mother throughout dinner was completely lost to me. When we finished, my roommate and I said our heart-felt good-byes to my mother and strolled side by side towards the apartment.

"Yamada-san, you have been quiet this whole time," my roommate remarks, slowing his pace and having myself turn towards to face him. His black circles examine my fever-like expression, "Are you not feeling well?"

"I'm…" with the sunset behind me, my blushing features are veiled, yet I'm sure my eyes are glistening with even the smallest refraction of light.

I'm so uncertain about how to interpret my roommate's monologue to my father. It could have had various meanings, or maybe…just a simple one. My lips are trembling to ask that very question. With each passing stutter, my frustration and fluster reach an unbearable discomfort in my throat. So much, I press my lips into a solid line before bursting with a fit of laughter and displaced tears.

"Y-Yamada-san?" Lee addresses me with alarm over my current display of sentiment. He holds onto both sides of my arms, attempting to shake me lightly out of my induced episode. "Did I say something wrong? Was it something I did during dinner with you mother or—!"

"I'm just very happy…Lee-san," I hiccup through my cries and bubbles of giggles. I wipe furiously at my cheeks staining with syrupy tears. This time around, my tears taste sweet rather than salty when they reach the corners of my mouth."Thank you."

Today, I feel a little closer to my father than I ever have been.

o o o

When spring comes, a refreshing breeze beckons me to open the windows in a welcoming gesture. The air it brings is pleasant enough to motivate my need to do some Spring-cleaning. It's the wonderful week break from work related obligations, inspiring a time filled with relaxation and cultivation of a more breathable home. Starting in the early morning, my own room was first on the list. Bringing out boxes from the closet and filling them with miscellaneous knick-knacks and old books to give away to a shelter near by. This was also repeated with my clothes; for those being too small or large, or generally out of my current style.

Next came the bathroom, where I dived into make-up bags filled with empty mascara tubes and face powders. Afterwards, I gathered a few excess mugs in the kitchen that I owned to put in the 'Give Away' box that I prepared. You tend to realize your collection of mugs exceeds the normal limit when you find tons of holiday themed ones gifted from your family over the past seven years.

Once I finished packing the donations, I began the ritual of cleaning the entire apartment.

I'm currently finishing with moping the living room, going over a stubborn stain almost etched into the wooden floorboards. I blow out a tired breath, dabbing an invisible streak of sweat on my cheek.

"That should do it," I say aloud, placing the dirty cloth into the wash bucket and leaning the mop against the back end of the couch. I blink around, coming to realize I cornered myself in a spot surrounded by wet floors. "Great, now I have to wait until everything dries," I sigh mutely.

I hear the chiming of keys, and my chin turns towards the apartment door. The doorknob twists and as predicted, my roommate enters. I recall that he's been away for a few days on a mission, and isn't aware that I would be cleaning. I want to welcome him, but my concern for him slipping comes first. I open my mouth to inform him before he can take one more step, but I'm out of luck with time as he cuts me off.

"Oh. Hello, Yamada-san—" his surprise to see me practically in front of the door interchangeably becomes the surprise of his ninja sandals slipping underneath him. And honestly, you would think qualified ninjas would have a bit more tact and grace as to not slip on barely wet floors.

Perhaps I need to invest in a wet floor sign. And perhaps better insurance and a family lawyer to cover a Jounin's broken back.

Regardless, my apprehension becomes the breaking rule for not leaving the dry spot where I stand. My goal to somehow catch my approximate 6-foot 180-pound roommate with my 5-foot 110-pound body is delusional. I know it is when I open my arms and I'm burdened by his chest and full weight, forcing us both to the ground with a loud 'thud!'.

Although I expected to receive a painful reminder of how hard the floor can be, my roommate had enough reaction time to reach a protective hand to the back of my head. Once the clamor settles, I open my violet eyes that were closed during the impact. My sight captures my roommate hovering mere inches above me; one hand underneath my head while the other is pinned just above my shoulder for support.

"Yamada-san, are you alright?" Lee asks with utmost concern, disregarding his embarrassing positioning on top of me. "Did you hit your head?"

I lay frozen in a heart-pounding daze before I stumble on words that I happen to find inside of me, "N-No, I didn't hit my head. Your hand was there, so I'm fine, thank you."

"That is a relief," he exhales, and I can almost feel his warm breath brushing against my nose. After a silent pause, my roommate's facial features twist in realization to his closeness. His abnormally large eyes increase in size when they noticeably lock onto mine.

"Sorry, let me—" as he attempts to pull away I cry out unexpectedly when I feel my hair being pulled. He stiffens at my abrupt noise, raising his thick eyebrows high in shock, "I-Is there something wrong?"

"My hair is stuck in your jacket zipper," I mention, capturing his padded shoulders and bringing him closer to fiddle with the tangled strands. My fingers tug and clumsily do all that they can, but I'm getting nothing in return. My cheeks grow hotter when I become more aware of how long I'm taking, keeping us here in this fixed position.

"It's not coming out…" I whisper faintly to hide my increasing fluster.

"Let me try, Yamada-san," Lee states with the clearing of his throat. I move my hand to allow him access, and he begins working on the zipper. Yet, his efforts are met with the same outcome of my attempts. I watch him struggle a few more seconds before I suggest an idea.

"I think we should cut it."

"Are you sure, Yamada-san?" Lee asks, ceasing his busy hands. "I would feel bad if you had to do that."

"It's barely an inch. I don't think anyone will really notice. I probably won't even notice and it's my hair," I smile reassuringly.

"If that is what you want, then I will do it." My roommate takes the hand beneath my head to venture through his vest pockets. He releases a sigh when he's graced with nothing, "I am sorry, I must have used all of my spare kunai during my mission."

"That's okay. I think I have a pair of scissors in my nightstand drawer, so…." I trail off, not needing to explain further of how we need to lift up without separating.

My roommate grasps the concept of my sentence and nods firmly, "Right. Let us see how we can…" my roommate losses his words when he starts to improvise, maneuvering his free hand underneath me and pressing me against him. "Yamada-san, this may be an uncomfortable request, but do you think you would be able to…wrap your arms and legs around me?"

"M-Mhm," I responded quickly, giving myself no space to think about it more than I should. I hesitate, but my will is polite enough to want to make this as easy as possible for my roommate. As instructed, I allow my arms to circle his neck and my legs to wrap around his waist. My heart squeezes when I feel my dress fall to my hips, exposing parts of my sunflower print underwear.

I gulp and remain completely silent as I feel him push off the floor with his other hand to balance upright on his knees, gradually lifting himself with me still attached to him.

Although my roommate may not realize the possibility, when he places me on my feet, my dress could very well catch on my way down.

"I'm wearing a dress, so don't look down at me when I get off," I inform him, unable to pitch my eyes into his in this brand new and ridiculous position.

"O-Of course," he blurts out, looking away as he helps me slip onto my feet. As I thought, my dress crumples at my stomach and I hastily pat it down.

"Okay, now to walk to my room," I break the awkward after effects of our earlier predicament. Since I'm unable to move my head, I talk right to his jacket, "I guess I'll just walk backwards while you walk forward?"

"I might have another idea that might be a little faster," I hear him say above my head and I wait for him to suggest it. "Stand on my feet. I will walk us both to your room."

"This sounds familiar," I giggle lightly, but nod in agreement. "Good idea, though. I won't hesitate this time," I say as I motion my feet to stand directly on top of his. I wrap my hands around his chest to keep myself in place, "Okay, Lee-san. Lead the way, but make sure the floors are all dry."

"You got it, Yamada-san," he chuckles in return, holding my shoulders and guiding us carefully to my room.

When we enter, I instruct him to the nightstand. Stepping off his ninja sandals I rummage though my drawer and pull out a pair of scissors. I level it to where my hair is snagged, and pinch the blades as close to the zipper as possible. In one snip, my remaining strands of hair fall free, and I release a content sigh.

"That was certainly the most interesting 'welcome back' I have ever received from you, Yamada-san!" Lee speaks out with an amused laugh. "A close second would be that time a while ago when I walked in on you wearing that flashy sleepwear. I can only imagine how you will greet me the next time around."

"Stop teasing me, Lee-san. It's not like I planned either of them," I blush, returning the scissors inside my nightstand drawer. "I just never know at which point you'll return from your missions. It's very unpredictable for me."

"I understand, Yamada-san, I was only kidding," he smiles down at me, patting the top of my head. "You did a wonderful job cleaning the apartment. Thank you for that."

"You're welcome," I say quietly, accepting his gesture of endearment.

Usually, I would find myself shoo-ing his hands away in attempt to appear less docile. Yet, after careful reconsideration, it's natural to want to be touched in some way, shape or form by the person you like the most. Rested in these thoughts, I want it to last as long as time will allow.

"I wasn't able to say it when you walked through the door, but…" my lips move to speak, tending a chin upwards to stare straight into my roommate's black circles.

"Welcome home, Lee-san." I give a flowering smile, sewing a silent confession in the gloss of my eyes; one that he doesn't need to answer just yet.

The hand stroking the top of my head pauses, complimenting the stricken expression engraved into my roommate's facial features. I gasp internally when I witness the complexion of his cheeks bruise the most intense red I've seen on him yet. He catches on to my observing gaze and quickly retracts his hand.

"T-Thank you! Well, I think it is best if I go—!" as he makes his boisterous attempt to leave, he clumsily bumps his shin against the edge of my bed frame.

I wince at the painful sound of the contact, "Are you alright, Lee-san?"

"Perfectly fine, Yamada-san!" he assures me rather loudly, but I can tell his breath is tightening uncomfortably around his words. With a nervous chuckle, he maneuvers around my bed and almost runs into my open door on his way out.

I restrain my laughs until I hear him enter the bathroom, thinking how I'm possibly acquainted with the gawkiest shinobi in Konoha.