A/N: I don't own Naruto.

29

"I'm sure these are getting smaller," I mused, holding the hardened sweet towards the moonlight as if inspecting a jewel. The moon looked back at me through the glassy surface and I frowned for a moment. Lifting a palm, I placed it over my eye and squinted at a world through amber shades.

This camping site had been previously used; a rough circle of dirt and tall grass hacked shorter than its towering neighbours. A small cluster of trees, the pond they ringed and the main dirt road was still visible. As was Gaara, hunched across from me and frowning silently at the few strands of grass between his feet. Big change in behaviour there.

The cards had been packed away, the sleeping rolls I'd liberated (stolen) from Isaka-san remained unopened, and yet I was still awake. I didn't know why and I didn't know if my being here awake had any effect on Gaara. I wasn't interested; if he found it irritating or not was his prerogative, not mine. I just wanted to stay up that's all. It wasn't like it mattered, or I was trying to keep Gaara company when everyone else was asleep or any other equally ridiculous notion. It was so boring travelling with Isaka-san that I could doze in and out of sleep on the wagon all day. That's all.

As for travelling company, Gaara and I tended to keep ourselves to ourselves while Isaka-san possessed all the esteem of a lamentably necessary pest (toilet training mercifully not needed). I passed the time as I wished, as did Gaara. And although we rarely interacted with each other, we were almost constantly in the vicinity of the other. I didn't know if this was Gaara's massive paranoia coming into play but I willing to bet on it. Therefore nowhere near being considered a teammate he seemed intent on keeping an eye on me in case I decided to show my supposedly 'true colours' and sacrificed him to some pagan god or stole all his eyeliner or something. I gained the impression that he, like myself, had a healthy disdain for being dictated to about what he should be doing and neither of us tried bar very few circumstances.

So, without any conscious effort from either party, the arrangement suited. We weren't travelling together but in the same direction, and knowing that I wasn't tied to another jumped-up little rat who thought they could play games with my head was somewhat reassuring; even if it was only because neither Gaara nor I cared enough what the other was doing to bother trying to manipulate them. And if he did, I don't think manipulation was in Gaara's nature.

He seemed to have a massive contempt for subjects of that nature; his mind worked in iron lines, unrelenting and honest in a twisted sort of fashion. If Gaara wanted you dead, he'd hunt you down and watch impassively as your body broke apart under waterfalls of sand, rather than spend weeks slipping poison into your afternoon tea.

Closing my fist around the sweet and leaning back, I sniffed. When I said it was the choice of the other Jinchuriki as to whether or not they came, I meant it and I fully intended to keep that sentiment. If I forced them then I'd be no better than that bald slimy-faced sycophant.

"Are they?" I asked.

Gaara glanced up and stared apathetically back at me.

"Getting smaller," I added, holding my hand open for him to see, "Are the sweets getting smaller?"

Gaara stared at the sweet a good long minute before looking back at me, "...does it matter?"

I gaped at him, "'does it matter?' Are you mentally damaged? Of course it matters!"

"...why?"

"Sweets," I began, leaning back and fixing him with an expression full of dire gravity, "are avery serious business."

"…." Gaara stared at my sober expression for a moment before shifting his gaze with his usual indifference.

I sighed, honestly I felt somewhat sorry for the poor ignorant masses. A life without sweets? Poor, poor Gaara. No wonder the red-head was so deprived. I squirrelled about in the crate before I finally managed to locate the small corner I had reserved for the very best of my stash. I pulled it free and made my way back to the fire. Anyone's first taste of the food of Gods deserved the very best they had to offer, murderous redheads with a bizarre aversion to eyebrows or not.

I browsed through the selection for a moment before palming a small tear drop shaped sweet, red as a ruby and flavoured with a crisp, cheery-like sweetness. Casting one final significant expression at Gaara (to further compound the severity of the moment) I finally thrust my open hand forward. Gaara stared at the offering awhile before suspiciously watching my face.

"It's not poisoned," I said with a regal sigh, "If I wanted you dead, I'd be punting your head into the distant horizon by now."

Gaara gave a flat glare at that but accepted the sweet anyway.

A smug smirk crossed my face at the impending victory. Any minute now. Gaara chewed slowly and I waited for the moment when he leapt up, tears in his eyes and proclaimed his undying love for sweets to the night air. I'll admit the confusion when Gaara grimaced made my smirk falter slightly. But the moment when he spat the sweet from his mouth, the smirk fell altogether.

"….disgusting," Gaara said flatly.

I stared at the spit-covered wreck of what had been a jewel among foods, utterly flabbergasted. How? How was that evenpossible?

I leapt to my feet and the indignation at the sweet's untimely and unappreciated sacrifice flared my feet another two steps. The furious words balled tightly in my throat, however, unravelled when a dull 'thunk' sounded from the spot I had been occupying moments ago. I turned and Gaara idly craned his head past me.

In the space where I'd been sitting was a tagged kunai.

It was fortunate I was on my feet and therefore capable of swiftly rolling myself into the long blades of grass. Heat bloomed at my back, my ears rung with the thoom that followed the foreboding fizzle and the force rocked me forward another twenty steps. A part of my brain (the confused 'what the hell just happened?' part) slunk back and allowed the more capable areas to wrest control with hands wired with years of training.

That was the first attack. Those were the first bodies to be left littered by the road behind us.

In the coming weeks they were not the last.

Time is an odd concept to a Bijuu.

Isobu lives forever, does time matter to an immortal as it does to those beings that have so precious little of it on this earth? Isobu's Ren is impatient with time, her companion-the other cage- watches it pass with dull, cynical eyes. The old human who offers them travel has lost life's meaning and therefore fear of time and the death it brings with it. But Isobu…Isobu is accustomed to watching, ineffective and fettered, as the world hurtles itself forward.

Time passes by Isobu's eyes without end, like an hourglass with an unending supply of sand. He can watch its effects, he can see the world wither and grow and change around him but it all falls so easily when it is measured in the centuries of a being trapped outside it.

It is doing something to Isobu's Ren. Her face is harder than when she first needled out of the grasp of Kirigakure (Isobu has seen that village born too, he remembers a time when the name was nothing). She does not look much older but her blood kin, the challenger who wrestled Isobu from one humiliating cage to the next, never did either. She still has little awareness of her own self; Isobu's Ren is always pulling herself onto higher concepts even if she does not know how to get there. This awareness is something Isobu would like to grow. That is why he recedes. Even if the loneliness is maddening at times for a creature that was once part of a whole and is now nothing more than a fragment locked away and subjected by beings who have no concept of what they are playing with.

It began when she stopped saying 'we'. Isobu was unused to having a cage include him such a manner; he remembers blood and the half-mad emotions of his first cage trying to physically dig Isobu out from his body. He had not been a 'we' in a long, long time.

But, although the intention of Isobu's Ren was appreciated, she was wrong. Trapped together? Yes. Bound and twisted and pulled screaming through humiliation and hate together? Yes. But of the same being? No…no Ren, that was a gross misconception on your part. Isobu's Ren cannot be a Bijuu anymore than Isobu can be a mortal and count the passing of time with the care of someone who only has those few, inevitable grains of it.

"What do you think the other Jinchuriki are like?" Isobu's Ren voices to the other cage.

It glares, as it always does but it replies as it always does too, "….never met them."

"Well, they have to be better conversationalists than you," Isobu's Ren smirks, "even if they are comatose…or dead or Takigakure decided that they were better off implanting their Tailed Beast in a potato."

The other cage shoots her a look, but to Isobu's eyes he is not as rankled by Ren's…comments as others. Isobu's Ren's comments are not honest, but Ren is not an honest person. She wraps herself in lies and false confidence like Isobu has seen swordsmen wrap themselves in armour. But Isobu's Ren is not a person who is intimidated, fault though this may be it is far better than the repulsed whisperings Isobu has seen cage after cage after cage endure.

Isobu's Ren and Shukaku's cage are trailing behind the cart, as they are both prone to walking since the first attack. The closer they come to Takigakure, the more looping, thin slivers of river appearing between thick blades of grass. Isobu remembers some of these, others are new, and others have dried up and been lost forever. Isobu catches a reflection of Ren's face in the one that winds-snake like and slow moving- along the furrow beside the road. Only one ponytail remains.

The nin grabs Isobu's Ren by the hair, fists twining and yanking against the two long strips either side her face. He yanks her closer, his feet routed, his reach otherwise comprised and desperation gnawing at his nerves like rats against a wire. She jerks up, stolen kunai taking two of his fingers. Isobu slips into control of her other hand as easily as silk against silk. And it would be so easy-Isobu thinks as the hand closes around the nin's mouth and coral shoulders its way into the nin's throat- so easy to loosen the tiny cell where he cannot move, cannot breath, can feel himself slipping. Oh it would be so easy, too easy to fry Isobu and Isobu's Ren in a single moment of blissful loss of constraint.

Afterwards Isobu's Ren was very meticulous about cutting away those two long strands of hair until they only barely reached her chin. Isobu's Ren had spent a long time looking at herself in the water afterwards until slowly she had smoothed away the upward flick of her fringe that mimicked her blood-kin and Mizukage as well. Isobu could hear her thoughts; hear the fear of her passing identity that was so entrenched in others, her uncle, her Jinchuriki status and…himself.

"This one may know more…about the others," the other cage rasps, a direction and drive to Ren's faraway concepts.

Ren smiled, Isobu can hear the unacknowledged gratification in her thoughts that is tied to the other cage's participation. She covers the smile with a cough; Isobu is unsure whether the other cage sees but is sure he would care whether the smile was there or not.

Isobu's Ren sniffs, "I should hope so…they'll want to join too, when they see who exactly is heading this endeavour."

The other cage looks at her blankly.

"I mean my magnificent self of course," Ren smirks with a flourish.

"…." The other cage continues to stare before continuing on, with a slow, dismissive turn of his eyes.

Ren frowns; she mutters and begins a tirade on the other cage's supposed 'hero-worship' of herself. He answers in blunt, curt one-words at times and glares unblinkingly back at her at others. Isobu tries not to laugh, he's reining himself in, keeping himself quiet though he knows Ren is anxious by his unresponsive attitude and can feel her miss Isobu like an amputee misses a limb. Eventually, as it always does with Ren and the other cage, it lapses into an uncomfortable silence that is no longer as strained as it was five weeks ago. The air is accompanied by the groaning of the cart's wheels, the dry jangle of the leather straps that tie the beast to its burden and the zips of dragonflies skimming against the river.

Isobu's Ren is wrong. Isobu and she are not a 'we'. Isobu keeps silent and watches and waits until Ren finds a way to fill that new 'I' she has been using without substitutions of pale grandeur and the whispers of the Kirigakure villagers in her ears.

Isobu owes it to Ren. Isobu has watched her for a long time as Isobu has watched others before her. But never before Ren, has the silence and emptiness of his cage been filled with the well-meaning intentions as those years of 'we'.

….

Chojuro is unsurprised with the gruff huff beside him. He's been waiting for some other indication of Ao-sama's displeasure with the attitude of the Kumo Nin opposite since 'Darui-san' had unwrapped his second lollypop and indolently began to erode it away as he did his last.

Chojuro is not bothered in the least by Darui's crossed arms and somewhat bored expression. He is accustomed to the odd quirks that develop in his fellow shinobi (Issei's fascination with signatures and lingering near girls of a…inappropriate age being a more sinister and stomach-rolling hobby than others). No, what worries Chojuro (and he has to be anxious about something, or he ends up feeling anxious about the fact he isn't feeling anxious) is what possible business Mizukage-sama may be discussing behind that door…

The lollipop exits Darui's mouth with a resounding 'POP' that is far too loud for the silence of the corridor. His blond companion cringes slightly and Chojuro swears he canfeel Ao-sama bristle beside him.

Ao-sama has always been a traditional man. Though his methods are unrivalled and vast with years of hard-earned experience, he is somewhat…stubborn about the attitude of this 'younger generation'. Chojuro would know, he's been lectured on his uneasiness more times than he can reliably recall. But Ao-sama is also loyal and obedient, and he'll hold his ground (and his tongue) unless the Raikage's bodyguard manages to get spittle on Ao-sama's actual person.

The lollipop 'POP's again, as does Ao-sama's jaw. Chojuro and C (the second half to the Raikage's bodyguard) share an empathetic look that speaks volumes.

Just as the lollipop begins to make its third excursion from Darui's mouth the door to the Mizukage's office swings open. The powerful mountain of a human that is the Raikage fills the doorway for a moment. His stride is strong, completely in control and in possession of his surroundings, as he leaves without another word. The two bodyguards instantly follow and the only sign that all three existed in the same space as Chojuro just moments before is a slight electric buzz in the air currents.

He schools his face blank, although he wants to ask, although the worry that something may be happening in Kirigakure is too large to ignore. Mizukage-sama doesn't mention it, the meeting and its results drip from her shoulders along with the smirk and the shrug.

"Chojuro-san?" she smiles and it's so smooth and so beautiful and so effortless that it takes Chojuro a moment to register that it is him she is referring to…that, and it's clear that he was staring.

"Ah," Chojuro mummers feeling heat rise to his face, "Y-yes Mizukage-sama."

"I'll need you reassemble that team that went to Konohagakure for me," Mizukage-sama's eyes and smile are more teasing now, and that only makes Chojuro blush harder, "I'd like you to keep an eye on our little runaway for me. I'll give you the full missions debrief before you head out."

"Yes Mizukage-sama," Chojuro draws himself taller.

"That's all for now," Mei's smile is not unkind, her eyes are always smiling.

"Understood Mizukage-sama."

Ao waits until he can no longer sense (nor see) the young swordsman's presence before regarding his superior with the respect her station demands and a few ounces of caution.

"Did the meet go as you anticipated Mizukage-sama?" Ao edges.

"Yes," Mei smiles, "Yes, I like to think so. Now Ao-san, I'd like for us to have a discussion about these bounties our missing-nin have been recieveing."

Ao frowns as something distasteful lining his throat at just the thought of those traitors, "Mizukage-sama?"

"Is there some way to manipulate them?"

A/N:

Okay, so I've been gone for awhile (cough-months-cough) and I won't make excuses. I also won't make promises on updates, I have a real on/off relationship with this fic I swear XD One minute I'm like 'gotta write moooorrrreee' and the next I'm pouting and glaring at the screen. Bit short this chapter but I wanted to add in Isobu's POV and keep Takigakure and Fuu to one chapter.

Anyway since I've been gone there have been some questions springing up my reviews (all of which I am incredibly thankful for, your opinions mean a lot and if you even just take the time to type 'Meh, it was okay' I still really appreciate it) that I will try to address now. If I miss a few sorry, but I'll try to catch them all (POKEMON!)

Ren's Power Level:

Ermmm, in terms of how powerful Ren is that's tricky. She's got the Jinchuriki perks (Coral Palm courtesy of Isobu, then increased speed, strength and in some terms durability when using Isobu's chakra). I imagine her having some Water Style Jutsus thanks to her Uncle's training program, stuff like Water Clone, Raging Waves and Hidden in the Water Technique but NOTHING like the stuff Kisame and Tobirama throw around. Then you've got her smaller and significantly weaker version of her Uncle's infamous Water Mirror Technique. So looking at that you may think she's at Sasuke's level or something but Ren's Taijutsu is pretty much 'keep going at it' and she barely stops to think strategies. Plus she's pretty crap at being aware of her surroundings so Genjutsu's are a major weakness to her.

Honestly I always imagine Ren kind of like the classic Warrior Class or something in Fantasy RPGs, she'd just keep hitting it (physically or with Jutsus) until it died. She has potential to do better, but she'll need training and someone to teach her a new mind set when it comes to combat. I hope that clears it up somewhat, not sure if I explained any of that well :]

Is Ren going to get her ass kicked at some point?

To put it bluntly (and I don't want to give too much away)…yes. Badly.

Is Ren going to have an attitude change?

Once again, I don't want to spoil anything, but yes. Going over the reviews I've gathered the impression Ren's a lot like marmite, some people like her others…not so much XD But I really wanted to work with a flawed character and unlike my previous fic make her change and grow throughout. Whether the change is good or not I guess is a matter of your opinion, but it is inevitable that Ren's massive ego will at some point suffer a blow.

Does Ren's previous life and reincarnation have a role?

Yes, and no I guess. Ren is not going to get some master's codex of Naruto from her previous life if that's what you mean. The reincarnation in Ren's case was more to do with the effect of her being born as (I probably haven't made this clear since I haven't written the Yagura POV chapter that I was going to put in yet) but Yagura's sister's child was born a still born originally (in my head cannon anyway) so the fact Ren occupied it and the baby therefore lived is a change. Hitoshi is the one with all the answers. Answers he conveniently recorded and would have remained hidden had he not become Ren's sensei and therefore had not died under suspicious circumstances which lead to the investigation of his home and subsequent discovery of his 'Map'. In my head cannon, without Ren Hitoshi would have had no way of crawling higher up the command ladder (and likely died in some B class mission instead of babysitting Kiri's Jinchuriki) and no 'tool' (as he lovingly refers to her) to focus on for his plans.

Kiri, or more specifically Mei Terumi at the moment is in possession of Hitoshi's 'Map'. Therefore, she will be the one acting with dubious foreknowledge (as she said she isn't inclined to just immediately trust that everything Hitoshi wrote on his Map is true) of the future. This is a Kage, with knowledge about other village's secrets and some indication of how strong they are at certain points. Kage's are known to make decisions with the best interests of THEIR village. I'm trying (emphasis on 'trying') to make it more realistic as to what she'd do with that considering this whole for the good of my village, screw you other village's mentality.

Okay, I think I got them all XD Obliviously there's likely going to be holes and I'm really not that clever at strategizing or creating tension myself, I already think I've bitten off far more than I can chew so if the plot is silly or contrived you'll have to excuse me…If I haven't just nudge me and I'll try to answer them to the best of my ability.

THANKS FOR READING!