"Are you happy?" she wondered aloud.

She looked at herself in the mirror, noted the blush of the living on her cheeks, the soft curve to her lips and the resolute gaze that met with her own. Her hair had grown longer. This face was still one she was unfamiliar with in many ways. Like when she smiled or when she laughed. And in more ways she had grown accustomed to it. Like colors she saw with Hiyori's eyes, or when she tip-toed on her feet.

Her voice. Inside her own head, it was starting to sound like the sweet bell-like soprano of Hiyori's.

"I'm not sure," she whispered back to herself, a complicated feeling blossoming in her chest.

It was winter again.

国滅びて山河あり

"Thank you for meeting with me," Yuri said, her face flushed. "Though it's been so long . . ."

Far too long, an embarrassing amount of time, really. Yuri had stayed silent, not approaching the nurse who'd been by her side in the hospital, though she'd wanted to—badly. She longed for friendships . . . she didn't really think she ever would again.

"Nonsense!" Nayu exclaimed, grinning while she bounced in her seat. Strangely, the exuberance of the woman didn't put her off, instead putting her at ease. Nayu's face was like a book without a cover—open for her perusement. That openness . . . perhaps that's what attracted Yuri to Nayu's friendship was the fact she, like Naruto, reminded her of Maemi.

Maybe it wasn't so smart to view a potential friend with the lense of seeing another in them. Selfishly, Yuri could admit that she wanted to attempt this relationship as some sort of atonement for the way she'd once treated Maemi. Begin it like she should have from the start. Even conscious of this fact, it didn't stop her, and neither did the guilt or the shame.

Nayu, aside from Maemi, also much resembled the near three year old that was off on the other side of the establishment playing in a small enclosure with other children near her age. Even from afar, Yuri could see the social butterfly in the child, smiling with giggles loud enough to reach her.

"Ichi and Ni have grown so big!" Nayu commented, green eyes widening as she looked them over. She reached to touch one of them, but Sasuke slapped at the woman's hands.

Yuri felt her heart jump at the callous action, opening her mouth to say something before Nayu waved the offended hand in the air nonchalantly.

"A very protective older brother, huh? The little ones are so lucky," the woman said, looking at Sasuke with approval. The older brother in question made no other response but to sit silently and overlook the woman with attentive, hooded eyes.

Yuri had to agree with Nayu, even if she thought Sasuke could be a little much sometimes.

"Sasuke is indeed a very good protector, I think."

She saw the rise of color on Sasuke's poker face and had to hide a smile.

"They're just my cousin's," Sasuke spoke softly.

"Nah," Nayu shook her head. "Biology means nothing when it comes to a family dynamic. You're going to be there with them through thick and thin, right? Living with them, eating with them, loving them; it doesn't matter that they're 'just' your cousin through blood, that makes you their brother regardless."

And with those words, she watched the icy Sasuke seem to thaw towards the impressive Umeki Nayumi. The nurse simply seemed to have a way with Uchiha, even herself. Nayumi had a way with words. Or maybe it wasn't even the words said at all, perhaps it was the dependable way she had said them.

Yuri was a tad envious, for a weak moment wishing she could be like that, too. What Nayu said to Sasuke made her think of Maemi as well, thinking of the time she also seemed to finally accept the girl as her sister. Those short lived days . . .

She took a long sip of her hot tea, ignoring the way it scalded her tongue into tastelessness.

When she looked at the people at the table with her, Sasuke was looking back at her, Nayu distracted by watching her toddler playing dolls with another toddler, silently chuckling at the antics between the two.

"This tea is pretty good," Yuri murmured idly. Nayu turned back to nod her head, smiling as she did so.

"Hey, did I ever tell you this is where I met Yukai's father? He used to be one of the cooks!" Nayu exclaimed and her whole face lit up at the opportunity to mention her husband. And then she went on to tell Yuri her entire love story with stars lit up in the expanse of her spring green eyes.

Nayu had been still in school at the time, studying medicine after she'd passed her chuunin exams and no longer wanted to take any missions outside of the village. She'd been looking for something she felt would make her feel more fulfilled. At the time, she thought being a nurse would be good enough, not thinking it would be as stressful as it was to learn everything there was to know.

It was during the day of one of her many exams that she had been cramming in the tea house, hoping the serene atmosphere might help her concentrate when they met each others eyes and—

"Love. It was definitely love at first sight! I almost missed my exam! Almost wouldn't have minded if I had. We started talking, and then talking became dating, and now here we are. "

"That's so wonderful," Yuri commented. And she meant it.

Yuri had yet to meet the man, but she expected him to be decent from the way Nayu talked about him, all dreamy and happy like. As much of a nihilist that she was, she was glad the woman had such a relationship. Glad someone was able to experience such a good thing with a partner. All Yuri ever had was someone else's memories of something similar.

It wasn't the worst thing, she was grateful for them.

A tug to her blouse alerted her, causing her to jump slightly. Sasuke leaned towards her, "I'm going to take the twins over to the other kids. I think Asahi wants to play."

What went unsaid was how bored this conversation was making him. Yuri nodded her assent, and smiled at the soft expression Sasuke had on his face when he looked down at the silently fussing twins, clearly bored with sitting in their strollers.

"Thank you."

"Of course." He eyed Nayu one last time before departing.

"That one is going to break hearts when he's older," Nayu laughed, "teenage girls love the broody guys, right?"

"I'm sure he breaks hearts now," Yuri chuckled, thinking of the swarm of girls she'd seen back when she used to walk Sasuke to school. They would arrive early just to see him some of the time. It was comical if not completely odd to her. She'd never seen anything quite like it before, at least in real life.

"He's very impressive, y'know. Not very many kids have the emotional maturity to handle what happened to him on top of what happened to those around him. You should be very proud."

Yuri nodded, a small smile at her lips. She was. Suddenly, there was a hand touching her own, prying it from her cup and grasping it tightly. She looked into those clear and open eyes of Nayu, and gulped.

Earnestly, Nayu told her then, voice low and insistent, "On top of that, you should be proud of yourself. Very, very proud."

It was a startling realization that caused the tightening of her throat.

This was the first time in any of her lives that she'd heard such a phrase directed towards herself . . . she hadn't realized how necessary it was for her to hear it. How overwhelming simple sounds coming out of a person's mouth could be.

"T-thank you," Yuri's voice croaked.

Nayu grinned, her gaze mischievous, "No thanks necessary, I just need you to sign this contract that states the two of us will be friends for the next hundred years."

Yuri shyly countered, after the clench in her jaw relaxed, "Just one hundred?"

Nayu smiled into her tea cup. "Just for now."

国滅びて山河あり

After a while, life started to resemble a bit of a routine.

Yuri would often wake up warmed by the small frame lying in the bed next to her. The boy would cling to her in sleep, and at the rising of the sun swallowing the room in its entirety, she would see his slack face and mussed hair. He was always so adorable in that way.

Most mornings (especially on the ones where her nights were interrupted by the twins) she would snuggle back into him and bask in the closeness of another being. Sometimes Sasuke would do the same, and sometimes he would push her away. More often than not he'd simply blink up at her, sleepy eyes taking everything his sluggish mind could.

She loved it. Morning's were her favorite part of living.

Then she would cook them breakfast while Sasuke did his stretches and looked after the twins so she could also prepare him his lunch. Occasionally she would overhear his soft laughter at the twins antics, or his exasperated huff when they did something sigh worthy.

After breakfast, Sasuke would depart by himself, unwilling to let her walk him to school. She'd kiss him on the forehead, and send him off with an encouraging smile. Be it a strange sense for when Sasuke left or not, the twins would always burst into tears when he'd go. And so usually that meant spending the rest of the morning getting them to settle down. She'd sing songs, dance in outlandish ways, and if she was really desperate, she'd do both.

"Just you wait," she'd tell them when the two were cackling with laughter. "I'll get you both back for this."

She adored their giggles.

In the afternoon, every so often when she didn't want to spend her time reading books or being stuck inside watching whatever was on the television, she'd go for walks with the twins. These days she didn't come across Kakashi in his stupid get up, instead she actually didn't see much of him at all.

It was strange at first, not seeing the man she'd grown . . . accustomed to, but she tried to get used to it.

It made her feel unsettled despite this. Her life, though following a bit of pattern now, felt a bit off kilter when she didn't see him.

She couldn't help wondering what had happened to him; if he was on some perilous mission and was fighting for his life, or if he simply wasn't in charge of watching over her anymore. She tried to convince herself that her worry for him was just an extension of her worry over Naruto and the rest of the world. Clearly he was needed if they were to live through the future, she reasoned. That was definitely why she'd leave the house and frown when she was able to exit the complex building unharassed.

Speaking of Naruto, despite the way she thought things would go—that she'd have to herd him into her life—she instead saw him almost daily. And he would always show up around dinner time.

The first time this occurred was also the first time she saw Sasuke almost have a conniption.

She'd been setting the table for two, her concern for Naruto still fresh in her mind that she'd actually made much more of the udon noodles than she'd intended that evening. She'd been planning to just give him a tub of it to him the next day to alleviate some of her worry, when the door bell had rung.

Sasuke, who had been busy holding up the twins dinner milk bottles, had glared at the door with great suspicion. Yuri, apprehensive about doorbells and unsolicited visitors in general, cautiously checked the peephole. But when she saw a shock of blonde hair, she yanked the door open with a grin.

"Naruto!" she beamed.

He was wearing a ratty old t-shirt, the black color almost bled into grey, threads splitting every which way. She noted that he wasn't wearing his goggles or any sort of outrageous hue as was usual, and he stood with unsure feet. He also eyed everywhere but at her face.

"I—well, uh . . ." he started. His cheeks appeared reddened by his nervousness. She felt herself soften at the sight of it, and then this sense of steel rig her back. She wanted to protect this child.

"Have you eaten yet?" And before he could say anything, she was shuffling him inside. "Come in, come in. Hey, wait. Take your sandals off first, you punk."

Naruto found the courage to shoot her a mischievous grin as he taunted her with his feet on her shiny clean hardwood floors, just past the entrance. She narrowed her eyes.

"If you want to eat, take your shoes off."

"But—"

"Hiyori," Sasuke had intoned from the dining room, she could hear the aggravation in his voice already.

Naruto quickly slipped his sandals off, the expression of someone ready to ruin someone's day clear on his face. He didn't even set them aside before he was rushing off in the direction of Sasuke, like a dog sighting prey. Yuri wondered then, and only then, if she had made some sort of mistake.

She shook her head, shutting the door behind her and locking it. Some ingrained paranoia dissipated when she heard the locking mechanic click. She let out a soft breath, grabbing the abandoned sandals and setting them next to Sasuke's similarly sized ones.

Yuri was a bit of a stickler for things being where they should be.

"Dobe, go to your own home."

"Don't wanna," she heard the teasing tone as she stepped into the dining room.

Naruto was seated at the table, hands gripping the sides of the chair, swinging his legs in and out. A picture of a child without a care in the world. Sasuke on the other hand was holding a kitchen knife tightly in his hand, charcoal eyes narrowed dangerously in on the jinchuriki.

"Sasuke, don't hold such sharp things near the twins."

Immediately he set the tool down, flexing his wrist and hands. She recognized it as a coping mechanism of his, clenching and unclenching in search of a calm he usually could find.

Yuri felt her heart constrict at the sight.

"Sasuke, is this going to be an issue?" she softly inquired.

If this was too much for him too soon, she would have to put a pause to this, even though she was loath to leave Naruto out. She loved him so much already, but Sasuke was . . . in a more precarious mental state.

Sasuke's eyes met her own deeply concerned ones. There was an awkward, tense pause as he seemed to search her expression, maybe he just couldn't fathom why she would go so far for Naruto. It was such a rare, rare act in this world, to look after children that weren't your own. Someone raised as an Uchiha would be even worse about it, no other clan seemed to dislike outsider's as much as them.

As such, she expected him to revolt at the idea of ever letting Naruto into their little family, to immediately cast the other orphan out.

But something in her own gaze must have capulated him.

He looked away and sat down, a dark sigh leaving him on a rough exhale.

Naruto remained quiet, oddly despondent, the swing of his legs paused. The way he looked at her made breathing difficult. She wanted to protect him so very badly.

"Boys," Yuri started. They looked up at her. She chewed her lip, gaze sweeping across them all, her children. Hers. "Let's eat."

That night, Sasuke didn't wait 'til morning to cling to her. He did so unabashedly when they went to sleep, and Yuri simply snuggled back.

And the days following after continued much the same.

国滅びて山河あり

A year.

It had been a whole year.

"I don't think I'm going to school today," Sasuke told Hiyori as she was stirring ingredients into their morning meal.

It was some sort of miso soup, he thought, but couldn't actually tell from where he sat, back facing her as he looked after the twins. He heard the swishing sound and the gentle sway of her feet along the floorboards, her weight shifting from side to side. He closed his eyes, lulled by the sound.

Guilt surfaced in his stomach then and he pinched at it to make it go away, idly wishing he felt hungry for the delicious food she was preparing. It smelled good, but at the same time he was made queasy by it. He was unsure why.

Hiyori didn't respond in words, but he heard the clatter of a ladle being set aside and then felt the warmth of her presence at his back. Soft hands reached and prodded at his cheeks before even softer lips met with the crown of his head.

He felt the burn of tears at his eyes.

"Later, let's pay our respect," she whispered into his ear, and then drew back when he nodded his head, but not before kissing him once more, this time on the cheek. Stubbornly, he made a face and was rewarded with delicate peals of laughter, too bright for a morning such as this one, but suitable.

Something about it was hard for him to digest. A part of him couldn't help but feel in that moment that it was a reminder of everything that had changed. Of everything he had lost in that year, on that day.

He hung his head, trying to center himself. Hiyori went back to the stove.

And he thought of his parents. Mostly, of his mother, who was also the cook of the family.

Maybe, for the first time, he was able to admit to himself . . . he missed home.

Missed the quiet stillness of his house and the sound of papers being shuffled around by his father; the way his mother would sweetly ask what he would like to eat that morning, and would smile when he would shrug and say, "whatever Nii-chan is having." He missed the scent of her, never having even realized that she had such a thing, didn't know that he could characterize lavender and orchids with her face in his mind.

She used to poke his father's cheeks when he was too stern, much in a fashion he now realized was a precursor to the same way his brother used to poke his forehead when his eyebrows would scrunch—

He missed Itachi.

He hated that he missed such a terrible person. Hated himself. Why on earth would he want to see the person who took all that away from him, no matter what the reason was?

Why was he like this?

He hated that he was even forced to think about it. He had thought of all these things over and over again before, but it would never stop with just once. He feared he'd have this monologue to go over well until he was dead, lines memorized within his head. The guilt, the weight of the guilt. He hated it and felt he deserved it all at the same time.

But most of all, he hated that he was beginning to feel happy again, despite it.

"I miss them," he didn't mean to say, but the words left him anyway. He sucked in a breath as if they'd follow suit, unsurprisingly, nothing changed.

Nothing changed but the clatter of plastic on the dining table from where Haruhi chucked his toy. Asahi had burst into laughter, and Sasuke began to cry. His shoulders shook and his breath came unevenly, and he wondered why he couldn't seem to get a grip on himself.

Gentle hands ran through his hair, so subtle it felt like the wind. He was not alone.

国滅びて山河あり

Later, the day would turn to evening, and it would soon see the shapes of two weary individuals' knees pressed to the ground, their bowed heads following suit. The scent of incense was pungent in the air, yet the feeling of grief was even thicker.

They prayed deeply, sending thoughts of well wishes left ungranted. They were helpless to do anything else.

国滅びて山河あり

He fell into her, quite literally.

Yuri had been tending to the flowers by her window, trimming and pruning, a bright song whispering past her lips. It was quite a beautiful day. Although it was cold and snow lined the ground outside, the sun shone spectacularly, warming the day. She felt at ease. It was quiet. Peaceful.

It was, of course, all ruined by a shadow that loomed for half a second before something heavy and big clumsily pushed her over. Her back hit the wooden flooring with a thump, a habit of a lifetime cutting the sound of surprise and pain in the back of her throat. Though her eyes were wide with the shock of the impact, nothing entirely registered within her until the shape came into full view.

The mass of a man took over her vision, and for a brief moment horror lit like a bomb in her heart.

"Shit . . ."

She saw silver. And blood.

No, no, no, no, no . . .

Silver.

"Yuriko, shoot."

Her finger twitched at the trigger, the feel of the gun in her hands a burning sensation.

"Shoot."

She didn't. Couldn't. She stood paralyzed, rooted in place as her eyes darted between Junichi and the poor man on his knees before her.

"He hurt you, didn't he?" Junichi said, walking up behind her to steady the cold metal in her hands. She didn't know how he got a hold of a gun, and idly thought about who else had met their end by it, this silver, expensive looking thing. "So shoot him."

"I—" the man, red faced and in tears sobbed louder, crying out for mercy. Her mercy. It was surreal. She'd been in the same position not so long ago, on her knees. "I don't think . . ."

"Don't think. Just do."

His hold over her felt warm, but her insides were cold.

"I-I can't."

She looked into the man's eyes.

Junichi examined her face, and his large hands gripped tighter onto her own. "Everyone has it in them. Like him, he had it in him to hurt you. Hadn't he?" His breath misted across her face. "Hadn't he?"

"I—yes." Her throat was still raw, her skin bruised and her breath labored. She would have been dead if it weren't for the man right beside her. She was indebted to him. She cursed him. The irony; if it weren't for him, she would be dead.

Why did he save her?

"Yuriko," he murmured, his tone soft.

Junichi lifted his free hand to her chin, tilting her head up to meet her petrified gaze. He looked at her with what could only be an imitation of adoration, but looked so real to her then. It always had.

"Yuriko, sweetheart. From what I know of you, and I know quite a bit, I can see that you are so strong, and so very intelligent." He tapped her cheek, "Why do you think I give you the privileges I do? Because I'm nice?"

He chuckled at his own bizarre statement, and then just as quickly, he snapped back. His voice became brittle and contrite. "Prove me right. "

Yuriko's lower lip trembled. His thumb caught the wet tear at her cheek.

"Shoot him."

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Thump!

Yuri jumped from beside the very real body left beside her, the shape of the man appearing inert. Her entire being wanted to recoil at the sight but instead she held herself very still.

Slowly, she brought one of her hands up to her face, expecting there to be blood splattered there but when she pulled it back, there was nothing. Not on her fingers. Nothing to give proof to what she'd just recalled.

Instead, when she looked down, she could see a deep stain on her cherry blossom pink top. She recalled putting that shirt on that very morning, consciously choosing it for the bright color because she had felt slightly cheered by it. It had been clean then.

She swallowed. She had begun to shake.

There was no blood on her face, nor her hands, but there was crimson on her clothing.

Scared . . . she was scared.

A groan disrupted the quiet moment, the sound eerie and terrifying. Her chin wobbled, oh fuck, she better not cry.

No, no, no, she insisted to herself. Calm, calm, calm.

Yuri forced herself to breathe, forced her body to relax, as fake as it was, and after she gave herself an allotted amount of time to sort herself out, she forced herself to sit up. She looked at the man beside her almost on accident and—relief. It was a very brief moment of the feeling, when she was able to see for herself that the man wasn't the same one from her past, and instead was someone she recognized.

And then there it was—the anxiety that it was someone she recognized.

"K-Kakashi-san?" she whispered.

He didn't respond, not like she expected him to.

But that's who it was, she was sure. Although she could be under some sort of illusion, now that she thought about it, she didn't think that's what it was. She just . . . had a feeling.

She noted slowly, her head still fuzzy from the scare, that his hitai-ate wasn't in the usual position on his head, instead she could see both of his eyes, closed as they were. She could see the deep scar from his injury as a child, and she could also see the twitching of his eyebrows as they scrunched in what she imagined was pain.

Why is he here? Came a whispered thought. She ignored it for now.

Tentatively, she raised her hand above Kakashi's shoulder, bracing for the revulsion she thought she'd feel at touching him. Rather, perhaps because of his powerlessness to do anything, she felt no such thing. Her palm rested on him for a second; he was cold to the touch, at least his clothes were, the chill of the outside having followed him. And then the immediacy of the situation hit her.

Kakashi, injured? Kakashi, bleeding? Kakashi, unconscious? Unthinkable. All of it.

She was about to start shaking him awake when one of his eyes popped open, the one he actually used to see. She didn't know what she expected, but she braced for him to react to her presence in some way, but he didn't. He didn't seem to focus on her, or on anything really. He swung his gaze around the room, but never seemed to focus on one thing; he seemed barely cognisant. And then the eye closed.

His breath became ragged, his chest rising and falling in an exaggerated fashion, as if he'd run a thousand miles and his body was at the very limit.

And then, a sound. His voice.

"It's done . . ." It was barely audible to her ears, even in the deathly silent room. She leaned in, hoping to catch more. Nothing followed after.

"Kakashi-san? What's done?"

His body stilled. She sucked in air, hearing the whistle of it.

"Revenge."

国滅びて山河あり — kuni horobite sanga ari — The castle was destroyed, the mountains and rivers still exist.

I'm sorry for the long wait, really and truly! This chapter really fought me... did I win? Anyways, I hope and pray everyone is doing okay during these difficult times. Please take care of yourselves!