A/N: Welcome back, dear readers and lurkers. Buckle your seatbelts. It's a long, bumpy road ahead. Enjoy!

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"We have to talk about Kiba." Sai's flat statement brought her attention to him as he sat with a scroll hung over his lap. While he spoke, his brush dashed across the paper. "You'll have to heal the breach between the two of you so he can function for the remainder of the mission."

Ino adjusted her posture to an upright position. It was the next morning after a good night's sleep under Kiba's jacket, with Sai's arm around her. Regular rest, food, and water had done wonders to regenerate her chakra, and her tender body had overcome the hard abuse from her ordeal. She felt almost back to normal. "How can I when he won't even come around?"

"He will when I tell him I'm strong enough to fly us back to Hinokoku."

"Are you?"

"I feel I am," he answered, somewhat evasively.

She flicked a pebble at him, striking his arm. "I'd be more comfortable knowing for sure. The ocean's a big place to be stranded should your chakra run out."

"I won't let us drown." Large black eyes shifted to her. "How will you convince Kiba to rejoin our team?"

Well, about that- -she wasn't confident she could talk Kiba down. First, she needed to assess the damage. Based on his MIA status the last handful of days, her estimates of his emotional trauma were in the red, as in, full depression, total self-flagellation, and complete and utter despair. And, if she were realistic, they may not recover their previous relationship status, whatever it had been. He may be damaged permanently, unreachable to her forever. Not a promising outlook.

"I could seduce him," she said and flicked a second pebble. This one bounced off his knee. "Sex might be the best way to bring him around."

"How so?"

"Food, sleep, and sex were the triad instincts of our primordial ancestors, what we in the business call 'lizard brain'," she responded and lined up a pebble for a third shot. "In short, sex satisfies his lizard brain, neutralizing complex emotions and thoughts. He'd return to a simpler frame of mind and feel closer to me in one fell swoop."

"Lizard brain," Sai repeated. He seemed to ponder the idea. "Interesting."

"That being said," her pebble glanced off his shoulder, "I won't consider doing it if you'll include it in a report to Shikamaru."

"I don't wish to limit your options. Should you deem seduction necessary, I trust your judgment." Sai scribbled for a second and used two fingers to channel chakra. From the page, a couple of ink mice jumped to life and scurried toward her. "However, try to keep it as a last resort and use it only when other avenues of persuasion fail. As we don't know how he'll react, we'll keep the presence of the jaguar entity to ourselves until we have further confirmation of it."

"I understand." Any other thought was lost in delighted squeals when the mice ran over her legs and climbed her body to chase each other in her voluminous hair. They played hide-and-seek as she giggled at their light touches on her shoulders and neck, and seriously, they were so cute and adorable, she could own them as pets. She held out her hand to them and both nestled in her palm. "I really don't know how I'll convince him everything's good. If I say I'm fine, he'll know I'm lying. I keep thinking about what happened," she said as she stroked the tiny, furry bodies with the pad of her forefinger, "and I'm left with a strong sense of fear. I may have to suppress my memories to show him the damage was not as bad as he thought."

"No," Sai said in a tone which echoed inside the temple.

The two mice burst with a splatter of black ink which coated her hand, her wrist, her fingers. To say she was surprised would have been an understatement. "No?"

Sudden, terrible suffering twisted the moon-pale face. He said, "Under no circumstances will I agree to your use of memory suppression jutsu or otherwise."

"What's wrong?" Frightened for him, she reached out and gripped his forearm. With her chakra sparkling and new in her coils, she could read the shape of his strong emotion- -heart-rending grief tantamount to what she'd experienced with the deaths of Master Asuma and her father. "Why are you so sad?"

He was silent, but Ino was patient because he deserved patience and compassion while he formed an explanation. "Shin was my brother and I forgot about him for a long time. His death hurt like nothing I'd ever felt before, but I had to survive Lord Danzo's training. It was safer to bury the memory...to forget about Shin. To forget about what it was like having a brother." Another vacant smile pulled a mask across his face. "I haven't forgiven myself for forgetting him."

"Sai, I'm so very sorry," she said. The grasp the grief had on him weakened as Ino coaxed it with a careful infusion of chakra, anything to rid him of his pain. "I didn't know. You place a high value on the relationship, so I see why you'd protect your memories of him."

"Shin's memory isn't shared with many people. Your empathy is appreciated. Thank you." Sai's fake smile softened some, and he fished around in his hip-pouch for a second. "Here. Wipe your hands with this. I apologize for the ink mice."

The square of cloth he gave her had been dampened with a kind of solution. When she rubbed her smeared skin, the ink wiped right off. "Your ink is waterproof, isn't it?"

"It can be, yes."

"I swear you'd make a fortune in the tattoo business," she said. "Think about how much money you could earn on the side. Why are you taking missions when you have such a sought-after skill?"

"You're interested in tattoos?"

She returned the cloth to him, the ink removed from her skin. "Perhaps," she said, smirking.

"Miss Beautiful, I think you may have a tattoo," he said, and the real smile charmed her. "It doesn't seem likely you'd mar the flawless skin you brag about on a day-to-day basis. However, I should very much like to see your body art."

"I don't have a tattoo. I have tattoos, plural. And no, I'm not showing them to a mean boy who teases me with mice." She fluffed her hair and impulsively decided to gamble on Sai's personal growth. "I show nice gentlemen who take me to dinner and romance me."

The lustrous black eyes narrowed- -he must have sensed she wasn't serious, but his inexperience with flirtatious banter became apparent when he didn't bounce a reply at her right away. After a moment's consideration, he said, "Kiba seems the opposite of nice and romantic, yet I believe he's seen your tattoos."

"Tch. I have to sneeze all right," interrupted a gruff voice. Kiba stood illuminated at the hole, one hand rested on the wall above him, the other in his trouser pocket. The olive flak jacket, pitted from the razor chain, fit over his net shirt worn like a second skin. Sweat had darkened a deep vee down the front of the vest. "What's this about me being the opposite of nice and romantic, eh?"

"You butthead!" Ino shouted and hurled a fist-sized stone at him. "We were worried about you!"

The stone pelted Kiba's shoulder without a lick of harm to him, as she intended, but he doubled over and behaved as though wounded and at death's door. "Not cool, princess! That's how you show yer worry? By insulting me and throwin' rocks?"

She was on her feet, stalking closer to him as he collapsed to the floor, loud groans exaggerated for maximum effect. Akamaru whimpered and nosed his master's armpit in worry. Ino didn't believe it for a second. "Please, spare me. You don't fool anyone! You're about to get a piece of my mind, so stand and face me like a man, Inuzuka."

"Damn, oh damn, I think you've shattered it," he said, really hamming it up. "Woe is me! I'm dying! Sai, help a brother out! Please, I beg you!"

"I wondered when you'd slink in," Sai replied with no sympathy whatsoever. "I sent you the message last night. You're lucky I didn't take Ino and leave you behind this morning."

Ino shot a look at Sai, who sat in relaxed nonchalance, because he'd sprang the idea of a conversation with Kiba on her less than ten minutes ago. Had he assumed it would take Kiba additional time to master the courage to approach them? Kiba continued his whine and groan routine, and she stopped shy of him a foot or two. Despite their energetic exchange, she had not determined whether his behavior was a fancy act to throw her off or if it was authentic and her prediction of his emotional trauma had been wrong.

Abruptly, Kiba dropped the act. Before she could react, he crawled the short distance to her and caressed her ankles. He hunched down to rest his forehead on the tops of her feet, whispering, "Can you ever forgive me?"

"It was a mistake, just a mistake. You're forgiven." Ino had never seen Kiba supplicate himself as he did now; he was too proud, too Inuzuka to genuflect. Her heart jerked painfully in her chest. "So get up and let's go home already. We're wasting valuable time."

Kiba wasn't done. He rocked to his knees, cinching his arms around her waist, and nuzzled her stomach. Wet streaked along her skin. Tears. She carded her fingers through his unkempt hair to massage and pet, and the touch let her measure the depth of Kiba's grief. What leapt to mind was when they were kids at his father's grave; Kiba was as gutted about her as he'd been about his father. Sai's observant gaze was a prickle between her shoulder blades. They should have stepped behind a column or outside for some privacy, but no chance of that now.

"I'm supposed to protect you, and I couldn't do it," he murmured. "I hurt you so bad you almost died. I'd rather it was me and not you. And I'd deserve it. I fucking deserve to die."

"Anyone could have made the same mistake. You were frantic and upset. You didn't see me use Shintenshin. A thousand things went wrong, but in the end, I'm alive. I'm okay," she insisted, tussling his hair. "What does it matter when I'm here in front of you, hunh?"

No response, except to squeeze her tighter and sniffle. Omnipresent pain and sorrow ripped around inside him, vicious and constant, and Kiba, as stalwart as he was, allowed himself to fall victim to those emotions. She understood them- -the self-blame, the horror and despair- -and knew time would heal these wounds. As he'd given her space to heal, so she recognized his need for space as well. Before long, he'd be back to his old antics, back to his old carefree self. He needed to move forward, and what better way than to conclude this awful mission.

Kiba broke the embrace and stood. When he'd first entered the temple, Ino had not seen his face, but while he towered over her, she noticed how the stress and sadness had ravaged his handsome features. Dark smudges under his eyes, the lids swollen and red from his recent crying jag, a definite loss of his normal, robust coloration signaled his low spirits. Red clan marks, which usually emphasized a smirk or warm smile, punctuated a strained frown. All construed a pathetic picture.

Except for the twin canines; pointy, ivory, noticeable under his lip. Oh, she fought against the recoil from deep within her, the instinctive twitch from danger, the icy curdle of fear coiled and powerful in her stomach. Sweeping from the same wild place came her body's memory of the claws. Blood. Bones snapped like twigs. Agony which threatened to drown her. I can't endure it, not another minute, not another second…a scream coalesced in her throat, but she couldn't, not if Kiba was to remain with them, but fuck, the urge to scream expanded into her lungs…

An unexpected grip on her shoulder afforded almost instant relief. Astonished, Ino glanced at Sai, who had appeared beside her, and it was his hand which siphoned off the fear and the scream and the false reality of Kiba's mistaken attack. The lizard brain scuttled away, and she was on solid ground again and Kiba was himself, not the mindless, broken beast conjured from a nightmare. Kiba's eyes were locked on her face, though, and she worried she might have revealed her negative reaction.

"Ino and I are glad you have returned," Sai said to Kiba, handing the folded jacket to him. "We'll break camp and head out, shall we?"

"Yeah." Kiba donned his jacket and used the sleeve to wipe his face. "Thanks, you guys."

While they cleaned their campsite, Kiba kept a respectful distance from her, which was fine since they had just started to heal and time was needed before everything could return to normal. She felt leftover minor aches and pains, but nothing as serious as before, and she was half regenerated in her chakra reserves. She and Sai had been so low, low enough to have appalled and frightened any medic, which attested to their desperate situation and why they had remained in one spot for close to a week's time. The four of them went outside, Ino happy to see skies and giant, puffy clouds and sun, and as Sai's ink hawk winged high above Water Country, she reveled in the openness and distant horizons of ocean and sky.

Hours passed. With much anticipation, Ino sought out the crescent-shaped Hinokoku Bay and the rearing summit of Hinokoku Mountain, and they welcomed the weary shinobi's arrival like friends home from an extended trip. Sai brought them down at the docks amid the wide-eyed stares and agape mouths of fishermen and warehouse workers, and the team traveled by foot over rooftops to Takeshita's residence. Sai did not bother with the front gate, circumventing it to gather them in the guesthouse which had been tidied since their departure, and Ino imagined, with relish, how Mr. and Mrs. Umeki would view their sudden, and rather slovenly, arrival.

"We have completed the main objectives of our mission, which were to identify the cause of Etsuko's death, and should it be murder, who had killed her," Sai said to them once inside. "We have a few optional loose ends to tie. Ino mentioned some contradictions between Shijo and Isao's version of events leading to Etsuko's death, and we still have not identified the motive of the murder. The question is, do we pursue a resolution of these loose ends or do we close the case?"

Kiba tilted his head. "What contradictions?"

Ino fielded his question. "Shijo stated he and Etsuko were living a lie the last two years, and Isao had become restrictive of Etsuko's activities. Shijo was in love with Etusko enough to attempt to run away with her. He said they had reviewed their plans to leave Hinokoku the week before last." She inhaled, concentration necessary to sort her memories. "However, Isao said he'd given Etsuko and Shijo permission to begin the affair two years previous. Six months ago, he spoke to Etsuko. He asked her about her feelings regarding Shijo and himself, and he said she had told him she was happy and not in love with Shijo." Ino shook her head. "Isao seemed to tell the truth, but Shijo also seemed to tell the truth."

"What's important here," Sai interjected, "is should Shijo's version be the truth, and Isao discovered the plans to run away with Etsuko, he'd have motive. They were brothers, so Isao could have instigated Shijo's actions somehow."

Kiba crossed his arms. "There's gotta be something more going on. I can't seem to align Shijo's recent behavior with his historic behavior. I can't understand if he loved this woman, why he'd suddenly strangle her in bed, why he led a peaceful career helping people, healing them, to then try and blow up or kill three shinobi. I feel like he was almost forced to do it, like he had no choice. But I don't know. Maybe he was fucked up in the head and had a break from reality, which supports what you said, Sai." Then quieter, meaningfully, he said, "One instance can change everything."

Sai and Ino shared a quick glance. Sai's omission was clear- -he'd informed Kiba of Shijo's confession, but not of the discrepancy in ability and chakra levels. He hadn't informed Kiba of Ino's tangle with the jaguar entity inside Shijo, either. Ino said, "I say we poke around for answers. I've recovered enough to use Saiko Denshin to further our investigation. We can satisfy our curiosity and be thorough at the same time."

"You've got nothing to prove, Ino-girl," Kiba said with a stern frown. "Sai and I can perform any additional interviews so you can continue to rest."

"I acknowledge your point, but I'm not invalid," she responded. "Saiko Denshin is our best option for an accurate and honest answer. We have one person to question further. I can handle it." Besides, the jaguar entity might still be a piece of the puzzle through Isao.

Sai followed her line of thought. "She's right. We either confirm or refute Isao's statements in one usage of Saiko Denshin. We've been away from Konoha long enough, and the Office is antsy for us to complete our mission. A decisive end to our investigation is requested."

Kiba curled his lip, but didn't argue. They assumed Takeshita was in the Public Works Office, and when they searched out and questioned Mr. Umeki about Takeshita's whereabouts, they were correct. The minister was not set to return until the evening meal, but efficient Sai wrote a quick note and sent it via messenger to prompt an earlier return. In the meanwhile, they took advantage of the bath and Umeki's offer of a late lunch. Ino, gleeful, told Sai and Kiba to bathe ahead of her so she had no reason to feel guilty for spending an entire forty minutes in the privacy of a ruthlessly clean bathroom, sloughing off the filth of many days, dried blood, and various debris tangled in her hair. She emerged, a human being instead of a swamp thing, and floated dreamily to a comfy futon where she reclined and rested her eyes.

Not five minutes later, but informed an hour and half had passed, Sai roused her. "Takeshita has arrived and is waiting in his study. Are you ready?"

"Yeah...let's go."

As they walked through the grand and magnificent halls, Ino felt the weight of opulence on their worn and rough appearance. Mrs. Umeki definitely turned up her nose at them. Both Sai and Kiba had tears and frays in their clothes from the razor chains and black burn marks from the mill explosion. Her clothes were speckled and flecked with blood stains the color of rust. Dirt and mud had dried on their hems and boots, but they wore their embattled garments like a badge of honor. Each had fought; each had survived. Nothing else mattered.

Umeki led them to the study, where he announced them and stood aside while they filed in. Takeshita was not at his desk as Ino expected, but stood at a window, his gaze distant and face drawn behind the black frames of his glasses. Clouds had passed in front of the sun, throwing the rich colors of the study into dim shades.

"Welcome back, honored guests," he said. They grouped together in a loose semi-circle and bowed their respect to him. As Takeshita shifted, Ino saw a muscle twitch in his jaw. "You sent word you had my brother's body. Where is he?"

"Thank you for your patience," Sai said. "Mr. Takeshita, let us express our condolences for your loss. We regret your brother's death during our pursuit of him; however, he had initiated an attack on us which required us to defend our lives. I have sealed his body into a scroll to preserve him, and I will release him at a time and place of your choosing."

"I see. Did Shijo…did he…?" He was unable to finish the question.

"Yes. He confessed to your wife's murder."

Takeshita's frame trembled and he covered his mouth with a hand. Ino, alarmed, started to go to him, but Sai's outreached arm stopped her. What? Why? She looked at Sai, the question in her eyes, but he shook his head- -Wait a minute.

"I see," Takashita garbled. "I'm...excuse me. I...I must sit."

Shoulders hunched, almost blindly, Takeshita groped his way to the desk chair and sagged into it. The chair, unequal to such abuse, creaked. To no one's surprise, Takeshita brought out whisky and a tumbler to pour himself liquid courage. Beside her, Kiba shifted with impatience. She heard him in his mind: Is it an act? Or is it a genuine reaction? Ino's opinion was the latter; she was sensitive to Takeshita's bereft aura even from this distance.

"Shall we leave you?" Sai asked.

"No...no, please don't. I'll be collected here soon. Will you sit, please? I'm sure...we have much to discuss."

"I'll stand, thanks," Kiba grumbled and leaned a hip into the sill where they'd found Takeshita. He brooded, a glower darkening his face.

Sai sat in one of the chairs positioned to the front of Takeshita's desk. Ino also chose to stand, as soon she would be needed to perform Saiko Denshin, and stayed at Sai's shoulder. They waited for Takeshita to gather his faculties which was when he finished off the drink. He adjusted his glasses, and after folding his hands on the desktop, he steadied an exhausted gaze at Sai.

"You have done well with your investigation," Takeshita began. "It's thanks to you my wife's obituary did not stir gossip or speculation. Additionally, both Shijo and Etsuko's reputations remain pristine because of your discreet work. They will be buried and commemorated with a full memorial service."

Kiba's derisive snort broke Takeshita's effusive praise. Sai said, "How you protect your family's reputation is your choice. As we have discovered what killed Etsuko, and as Shijo is no longer a threat to the general populace, we are satisfied justice has been done. Yet," Sai's finger doodled the armrest, "we have a couple questions to answer. Ino performed Saiko Denshin on you previously. I'm sure you'll allow her to use the technique a second time?"

And a determined edge to Sai's words contradicted their literal meaning- -he did not suggest Takeshita agree to Saiko Denshin; he told Takeshita to agree. "Again, we have one or two minor issues to clarify."

"Oh? What issues?"

"We wonder why Etsuko was murdered. As we could not confirm the truth of Shijo's story, we wish to verify it with your memories if we can."

Ino didn't think Takeshita would agree. Takeshita, his complexion already drained from news of his brother's death, was ashen. He swallowed and nodded. "Yes. Whatever is needed."

Ino took this as her cue to stand behind Takeshita and begin the technique. Fresh chakra flooded her coils, spread down her arms in a warm tingle, molded using Saiko Denshin's unique hand seals. With a careful touch, she rested her right hand on Takeshita's crown. Silence as the technique took effect. The study's sounds and atmosphere faded, became the distant past, as she dissolved her mind to navigate the direct connection into Takeshita's mindscape.

That Shijo was on his brother's mind was obvious when she landed smack in the middle of an old memory- -an argument between the years-younger Isao and the older, already wisened, Shijo. Shijo was mid-twenties, Isao late teens, and the gist of the argument was Shijo's resignation from Hidden Leaf's active roster. Shijo didn't want to kill anymore, but Isao believed in duty and honor to Fire Country and their daimyo. Shijo and Isao both were handsome men in their own way; Shijo had an austere presence, while Isao was lively and intense as he gesticulated and spoke in a rapid tone to his brother. As the argument was not directly related to the reason she was there, she scanned forward many years.

Memories of Etsuko burned bright and hot. Passion tended to leave the impression of surviving a direct hit from a sunflare. Isao had many. Most were sexual encounters with Etsuko, but as Ino spread her astral identity further into the general memories, fluid and gliding as a hawk, she brushed against insidious undercurrents- -jealousy, fueled by ambition, and it became clear Isao's happy version of events was not accurate. At the start of their marriage, Isao allowed Etsuko's sexual freedom, whereas towards the recent period, he had begun to argue with her frequently, the arguments like blasted craters in his mindscape. Over these scenes of conflict she flew, nearer and nearer in time to recent events until she reached two years ago.

Ino immersed herself in the memory referenced by both brothers- -it was not a flare nor a crater, but had a thick, discontented fog to it. Isao was in Etsuko's room. Ino watched the memory play out, and again, Isao had not been entirely accurate with his account. He did love Etsuko, he had married her with his eyes open regarding Etsuko's enjoyment of multiple partners, and he did love his brother enough to understand the attraction to Etsuko. But the difference was, he did not grant permission with altruism in his heart; rather, he negotiated with Etsuko- -either Shijo or anyone else but not both. He had planned a long time for the conversation in a desire to determine how committed Etsuko was to his brother. Would she sacrifice her other lovers for him- -allowing a major restriction on her freedom? Or would she continue on as she had been- -in total liberty? Isao had believed he'd known Etsuko's choice, but she had chosen Shijo over the other lovers. Thus, the discontentment.

Further forward she raced, and discovered brilliant, clear moments of triumph in Isao's career, and among the triumph were fewer craters, but they were large and the discontented fog and whispery, slithery envy tainted everything. Soon, she came to the memory of the conversation Isao said he'd had with Etsuko six months earlier, where Etsuko said she and Shijo were "in passion" and not "in love" and she was happy in her relationship with Isao. She secluded the memory to watch and listen, but as she did, she felt a difference in it...a brittle, foreign texture which didn't match Isao's other memories.

Dearie me…a false memory? She isolated the memory and dug deeper using her considerable skill to examine its details. Etsuko and Isao were in her bedroom, an easy setting to copy and manipulate from other memories- -it's what she'd do to slip in a false memory. Etsuko wore negligee, her hair unstyled, and she sat close to Isao on the futon; similar to other encounters Isao had with his wife and so easy to copy. No sex had happened, which was odd as Ino had noticed a pattern of Isao visiting Etsuko for sex or an argument, not conversation. But, okay, the man was allowed to have a conversation with his wife. Ino observed the conversation, filtered Isao's emotions, but unlike every other interaction Isao had with Etsuko, he remained emotionally neutral throughout the entire conversation- -a dead giveaway to its falsity since so far, Isao's Etsuko-memories were rather passionate and in the beginning, when he had respected her, the memories of those early conversations were golden with love. The six-month old memory was a fake, and Ino bet her prized hair it was a distraction from a memory suppression technique.

With a deft maneuver of her astral self, she vetted connected memories, touched each to check for suspicious spaces or blanks and activated her sensitive sensory perception to search for traces of a chakra signature. Any mind jutsu technique left the user's chakra signature and was usually untraceable unless whoever was searching for it also had a sensory ability. Her unique combination of mind jutsu and sensory perception helped her discover three instances of a chakra signature in Isao's mind. One was hers when she used Saiko Denshin the first time. The other two had the same signature, a sensation like a sleek, glossy pelt of fur under which powerful muscles coiled, not a signature she'd forget.

One instance of the pelt-like signature occurred on the false memory; the other occurred two weeks ago...and no memory was readily available. A suppression jutsu, then. She further examined the void where the chakra lingered, careful to check for other connections to the removed memory, but she found none. Whoever had suppressed the memory had done excellent work, but Ino could release the suppression jutsu, easy-peasy. Hesitating, she drew back as suspicion invaded her. It was true other hidden villages had mind techniques similar to her clan's. Memory suppression and falsification were typical espionage techniques, but something about the techniques used in Isao's mind were familiar. No. It wasn't likely someone in her clan would perform these techniques in the first place and not on the eve of her team's investigation. Driving the worry from her mind, Ino released the suppressed memory.

It went terribly, terribly wrong.

Instead of the memory restored to the mindscape, emotions and images available for her examination, Ino was transported to a familiar dim, dank place. Gray stone walls loomed around her. From every corner, top to bottom, a monotonous low chanting reverberated, vibrated in her lungs. On the floor beneath her feet was a colorful jaguar mural, similar to the one she'd seen in Shijo's mind, but intricate black kanji embroidered the circumference and radial lines crossed the center. A seal...a trap! She saw the kanji, saw the style of it, and she went sick when she recognized it. The seal was Yamanaka by design, but the chakra was...the chakra was the pelt-smooth signature. Impossible. I don't believe it, I can't believe it!

Chakra shimmered the kanji in hues of blue, dense and powerful, and a massive quantity stirred under her. Terror throbbed in her veins; throat closed and tight, Ino tried to think of what to do, but she was unprepared for the level of jutsu which had awoken. Her strength drained from her; she slumped to her hands and knees, suffocated from the presence of such ancient power. The floor gave way; she dropped through. Nothing but pain, oceans of it drowned her, crashed her head over heels. Couldn't breathe. Arms and legs wouldn't respond. She had to...had to gain control, but complete helplessness numbed her. Air, please, air, she couldn't breathe.

Calm down, cloverbush. Get control of yourself. Yes, control. Stay calm. Look for the moon, reach for it, jump to it, fly free. This was a mind, not reality, and she wasn't dead yet. I'm not dead yet. She repeated it over and over; it became her mantra, her rope to cling to, and her limbs warmed and her will burned a hole in her chest, and she searched for the silver moon in the blue field of sky. How was it so far away, so difficult to see? No matter. She scrounged for courage, dug for strength until her nails bled, and managed to orient herself. The tumble-down sensation lessened, the...suffocation and everywhere pain diminished, and encouraged, she focused her entire self on the moon and flew free.

She forced her eyelids open. The jutsu had slammed her straight out of Isao's head and into her body.

Sai, study, windows, Kiba. Sai, study, windows, Kiba. Again, and again, around and around and around. Reeling, she staggered to the side, hands fumbled for purchase as things fucking spun. She tripped over her feet, crumpling to the floor in an ungainly heap, shoulder jarred in the fall. Dizziness soured her stomach; she wished with all her heart for it to stop.

What...what happened?

The world whirled about her head, her thoughts mimicked the world, and she was left with a dreadful sense of impending doom. Sai and Kiba both leaned down; their lips moved, but she didn't hear what they said above the echoes of sinister, monotonous chants in her ears, and she couldn't focus because they spun violently with the room. I don't understand. She had been left, again, empty as a drum and limp with exhaustion, so she closed her eyes tight and waited for the dizziness to pass.

A/N: To correct an error I have made in an earlier chapter and to clarify for the rest of the story, Kakashi is the current Hokage, and Tsunade is semi-retired. Kakashi convinced Tsunade to discuss with each kunoichi the importance of marriage and children to the village. I apologize for any confusion on this plot point. See you next week!