Miho hated hospital chairs. For years, her hips had pressed uncomfortably against the metal bars, making her thighs and knees and lower back ache. Now, as her hips had grown, the chairs were even more uncomfortable. The metal creaked ever so slightly when she moved, so she tried not to shift her weight.

Clearly, the designers never seen an Akimichi before.

It explained why she'd never seen any of her kin sitting in these blasted things. She'd never thought about it until it affected her own comfort. Eventually, she wouldn't be able to fit either. So, she'd stand along the wall like her cousins and uncles and aunts. For now though, the bars pressed against her hips and her back ached.

Miho drew a needle through the fabric in her hands.

She'd been there for hours.

The room was dim now, the sunlight from the window had long-since given way to moonlight.

On the bed, Genma-sensei lay unconscious. On the second bed in the room, Asuma-sensei lay unconscious as well. Both were breathing steadily, bandages wrapped around various parts of their bodies. Their injuries weren't quite catastrophic, and certainly not the worst of the team, but bad enough that they hadn't awoken in three days. They were stable, which was more than could be said for several people at the moment.

Pulling the needle through the fabric again, Miho's eyes tracked over to where Shikamaru sat, eyes shut as if asleep. She knew he wasn't, but she let him pretend. He needed time to think.

To evaluate. To work his way through this absolute mess.

And it was, truly, a mess. A mess that was top-secret. A mess that they only knew a bit about.

A disastrous protection mission. Four injured. One dead.

Tetsuya had declared earlier that he would be at Training Field #5 for the rest of the day when she'd left for the hospital that morning. Miho just sat— as if in a daze— in the living room until Tetsuya left. Tears had pricked at her eyes again. She didn't let them fall. She didn't feel like she had any right to them.

His sword and sword scroll were slung across his back. The straps across his shoulders stitched with moon phases, had been a gift from Hayate-sensei when Tetsuya'd mastered the Third Level. The scroll itself had been a gift when he mastered the Fourth Level.

He only had one more level…

Tetsuya would've received his second sword in the ceremony.

The front door had slammed shut.

Miho had let out a quivering breath, barely keeping the tears at bay, looking to Shin. As if Shin could somehow hold everything together. As if he could somehow guide her through this. He'd been trying. He'd been trying so hard to keep everyone steady. Shin held her stare for a long moment before nodding.

"I'll go keep an eye on him. Make sure you carry snacks."

She had just pressed her lips together.

Shin had heaved in a breath and disappeared, not bothering to act like anything less than a jōnin. His shushin was flawless. He'd stopped holding back when he got that vest. He had no reason to pretend anymore.

Idly, Miho pushed the needle through the fabric again, settling a little blue bead onto the needle before drawing the string up through the bead's eye. She repeated the motion again and again and again for hours. The little coin purse was decorated with red and pink and white cherry blossoms, green leaves arching around the bottom. She was working on the background now, blue like water or the sky.

In and out, in and out, in and out.

"Don't be a drag."

Miho jerked her head up to find Shikamaru staring at her over the bodies of their teachers. His eyes were hard, sharp. She held his stare for a long moment. They hadn't spoken for days. Not since they'd spent the first night in the hospital with their teams. Even then, it was only a passing look and semi-empty words.

Dealing with Shikamaru was always so much different from dealing with Ino or Chōji. Miho could never quite keep up with him. She knew that was part of why he felt responsible for all of them, because he was the smartest. He thought so far ahead. With knowledge of the future, too, that weighed on him differently. Miho lowered her eyes to the beads before returning to her task. In and out.

Ino was forthright, but purposeful.

Chōji was honest, but kind.

Shikamaru was something else.

"These two and the others, they weren't your fault. Koji wasn't your fault. Hayate wasn't your fault." Shikamaru's voice was firm. "He was just doing his job."

Miho shook her head before setting the beadwork down onto her lap, still staring at it. "Don't, Shikamaru. I don't want to talk about it." She looked up again, meeting his eyes. He stared at her for a long moment before shifting his attention toward the ceiling. He slumped in his seat, head falling onto the back of it. The muscles in his jaw tightened. Miho swallowed down a swell of frustration. All of his tells. He wasn't gonna let this go. "You—"

"Tetsuya's a strong guy. He'll get through it."

A flare of anger hit Miho so strongly that she felt the needle in his hand snap between her fingers. She couldn't decide whose voice in her head was tutting, Genma-sensei's or Grandfather Hu's or Elder Torifu's. She felt the needle prick her skin, but she hardly acknowledged it. Instead, she curled it and her hand into her scarf to hide the blood.

He could probably smell it though. She could. She pushed herself out of the uncomfortable chair and turned her back to him, moving to look out of the window. Konoha was sleeping. Quiet. Calm. Seemingly peaceful. She could remember visions though. It was like she was a child again, seeing future ghosts on the horizon.

There was a scene that she kept seeing. It was a darkened room at the Nara house, scattered shogi pieces, and Shikamaru's crying. Miho's grip tightened and she settled her free hand on the window sill.

"Like you got through it? Like Naruto got through it?"

Shikamaru lifted his head again and held his breath for a long moment before sighing. "That wasn't me. That wasn't Naruto. I haven't gone through any of that shit. Trying to avoid it." He let out a long breath, leaning back into his chair in a faux-relaxed manner. "Death though? It's coming for all of us. It could be today, tomorrow, during an attack…You know death, Miho. Better than a lot of people. We can't predict it."

Miho pulled in a breath, held it for a moment, and let it out.

Who was she to argue or lament that? She'd died more times than she could count.

"You're right."

His silence told her that he agreed.

"I thought we changed it though."

Shikamaru snorted lightly and shook his head. "We've changed plenty. We did change it. We're still changing it. We don't even know what happened. We only know the public story. If nothing had changed, things would be different. "

That's right. Instead of losing a lover, Yugao has now lost her husband. Instead of burying herself in ANBU, Yugao instead was left with a baby to raise alone. Miho's teammate lost his master. One of his most precious people. Someone who helped him escape a pompous, hateful clan. That was the price. The price of a dead man walking.

Were some aspects of the plot so necessary? Plot points that couldn't be avoided? Every time she tried to reason her way through it, her head started to hurt. It was all too much to consider, philosophies for minds much wiser than her own. Miho knew she could never work her way through it, so she often left it. Or ate it.

That anxiety often tasted of chocolate chips.

Two ANBU teams sent to rescue a jinchūriki, to keep other terrible things from happening in the future. Yet, this was where they'd arrived.

Miho heard the words in her head before she spoke them. An old, withered voice. She'd heard that voice before, when she learned of the Third Hokage's death. He'd been saved then, but his death still found him all the same. She tiredly lowered her head, speaking the words into the stale air of the hospital.

"One often meets his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it."

When she looked up again, Shikamaru's answering stare was dark. Darker than Miho had been expecting. Every so often, it was easy to see the shadows in the Nara. Her father said it was because their minds demanded balance.

Just like a shogi board couldn't function without dark and light pieces.

Nara couldn't exist without shadows and light.

Every so often, the shadows won out.

"That's bullshit."

Shikamaru was on his feet, hands fisted at his sides. Miho held her breath, watching as the shadows in the room became darker. It was only years and years of knowing and interacting with Nara, and specifically with Shikamaru, that kept her from moving. She knew not to move away from the light of the moon. The shadows were writhing.

"Destiny? If destiny were a real thing, Sasuke would be with Orochimaru. If destiny were a real thing, Danzō would still be alive. Your teammate would be dead. If destiny were a real thing, you wouldn't be here. Only cowards let so-called 'destiny' become a refuge for their fear." Shikamaru's eyes almost seemed to glow in the darkness. "Don't you dare point at destiny, Akimichi Miho. You're no coward." His shoulders rose and fell.

Miho wondered if he really believed all of what he said.

Or if he was afraid for Asuma.

And his father.

Because destiny could come for their lives as well.

Swallowing down a swell of fear, she nodded. "Okay, Shikamaru."

"'Destiny' is bullshit, Miho."

In another life, she'd thought the same. But then, she'd been pulled into a book. A book that demanded a sacrifice. She'd been killed there because someone had to die. Even after they'd tried everything they could to avoid it. Someone always had to die. The plot demanded a price. It demanded a trade for the three wishes it granted. In another life, too, destiny was nothing more than device, driving all actors to the end of their storylines. Blood was the deus ex machina.

How often was destiny confused for plot? How often was plot confused for destiny? How often were they one in the same?

How long had it been since she'd eaten?

Miho realized then how hungry she was. Her knees began to shake.

"So damn troublesome." Shikamaru fell into his seat again, letting out a sigh. He seemed to deflate, all of the fight leaving him. His dark eyes tracked back to Asuma's face. "This whole thing is troublesome. Why couldn't I have just been a rock or something?"

Not responding, Miho instead looked to her teacher'sface, mimicking Shikamaru's distraction. Genma-sensei's expression was peaceful, healed of bruises. The bandages covered a nasty, slow-healing gash on his temple. She wondered why it wasn't healed by the medics. His right leg had been crushed. It was still in traction, raised up in a white cast. He'd be in physical therapy for months.

There'd been no other word on the team members, and perhaps that was the worst part of it all.

The silence.

And the silence persisted until Miho fell into a doze in that uncomfortable waiting room chair. Her stomach rumbled and roared.

Her dreams were not quite her own. Or maybe they were. Miho stopped wondering where she began and ended a while ago. The Bears of Center Mountain told her that it didn't matter. All of those others were her as well. The sooner she accepted that, the more at peace she'd be. The longer she dwelled on those other lives, the more she would be consumed by them. So, the dreams shifted eventually from waving wheat and sunset to a half-forgotten memory.

"You know," Naruto said. "I wonder if we were meant to meet, ya know. Your dad and my dad, they were friends. The old man said that they were best friends. Maybe we were always supposed to be friends."

"I believe that." Miho responded, reaching up to take his hand. The moon was casting a bright reflection into Naruto's tiny apartment, where Miho lay on a floor mat. His hand reached down from the edge of his bed. Miho took it and held onto it, like a lifeline. "I think maybe I was supposed to find you."

Naruto was quiet for a long time. Miho wondered if he'd fallen asleep. "I wish it was different though...I wish we could've known them. You think maybe...everything happens because it's supposed to?"

Before either could answer, they fell asleep.

"Should've known you two would be here. Secure the room."

Miho jolted awake, throwing herself upright and out of the chair. Lady Tsunade looked exhausted as she stepped further into the room. With a sigh, she looked between Miho and Shikamaru. There was an interested draw to her brows. Then, she strode toward Asuma's bed, heels clacking against the linoleum. Miho nodded to Shizune, who entered with her master. Shizune just smiled sadly, returning the nod.

Flinching, Miho felt the air tense as ANBU stood guard over the space. She'd known they would be guarding anyway with both Genma and Asuma being in ANBU recovering from an ANBU op. Still, the feeling made her tense. Tsunade turned, narrowing her eyes at Miho.

"Asuma and Genma were both damn lucky."

Miho itched to ask questions, but kept them to herself by pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth. It'd been three days. No information. No explanation. No questions answered. Very little had been released about Hayate-sensei's death or the mission that resulted in the hospitalizations. Just a mission gone wrong.

Living in a shinobi village, people just learned not to ask questions when their friends died. Miho didn't ask. She just sat by her teacher's bed and held her teammate when he cried.

"An Akimichi privacy seal as well. Now."

Swallowing, Miho stood, pulled a paper tag from her thigh pouch, and pushed it to the wall, flaring her chakra just enough to active the seal. It adhered to the sheetrock and spread across the space, securing it from observation. Her arms tingled. She should've eaten before taking that nap.

"Shizune, check on Genma. Heal that head wound, if you're up for it."

Miho stepped out of the way, watching as the older woman held a glowing green hand over her teacher's forehead.

"We have recovered Fū of Taki. She is currently recovering in a secure medical bunker in the sub-basement." Lady Tsunade stated, withdrawing a hand from Asuma to place both hands on her hips. "So that's something at least."

Miho felt her arms go numb.

Fū? Recovered? Alive? She survived?

She was in Konoha?

Miho watched the Hokage's shoulders tensed. Another jinchūriki in Konoha? Miho let out a quivering breath, trying to hide how badly her hands were shaking. Fū was alive. The Akatsuki hadn't acquired another jinchūriki. That was—

That was—

That was remarkable.

She could sense a smug sort of satisfaction rolling off of Shikamaru in waves.

"Kukuzu and Hidan of Akatsuki have been terminated. The latter— Well, I believe they took some inspiration. Or, at least, Asuma did." Her nod to Shikamaru was more than enough for both to understand. The bastard was buried alive. Good. Miho felt a thrill of fear when she felt a sick sort of satisfaction. Let him suffer. "We won't be seeing them again. Akimichi remembered that…arc…in surprising detail."

Her former self remembered…because Shikamaru was a favorite character.

She had a plant named after him. Then. There.

Now, that bastard Hidan was dead, or as good as. And Miho had never felt so satisfied.

Miho felt herself stumble, feeling a bit weak at the knees. She caught herself on the wall.

Two down.

The world seemed to blur a bit.

"Akimichi, eat something. Now."

Feeling properly chastised, Miho leaned her back against the wall and withdrew several high calorie protein balls from her vest pockets. She chewed them even though they tasted like concrete in her mouth. The Hokage was right. She hadn't had nearly enough calories. She'd need to calorie-load when she returned home. Nearly an entire day without proper calories. She'd only had about 5,000 for the whole day.

Elder Ayumu would throw a fit if she knew.

That was only a quarter of the bare minimum she needed to eat.

If she kept pushing it, her body would go into withdrawals.

She needed to eat. And she'd have to somehow get Tetsuya to eat, too.

"I don't imagine I need to reiterate that this is top secret?" Miho shook her head while Shikamaru only raised his brows. "Others in-the-know will be told. It was Hayate that took out Kukuzu's final heart. He was already fatally injured by Kukuzu in the battle. If he wasn't there, this would've gone a lot different." Lady Tsunade turned to Genma-sensei, sighing. "Genma, Iwashi, and Raidō were reckless, but effective. In a feat they've never accomplished before, or really, that the Fourth Hokage never tried, they teleported two people at one time. Arrogant or confident is still being debated."

Teleported?

Miho felt her stomach lurch.

Flying Thunder God. Of course.

The Hokage Guard Platoon could use the Flying Thunder God technique if they were together.

"Iwashi is still touch-and-go. I'm not completely sure he'll make it. But he's a proud man. He might survive on pride alone. Raidō will also nag him right out of the grave. These two will wake tomorrow morning, in time for the funeral tomorrow evening." Her eyes tracked to Genma-sensei's leg. "He's going to be insufferable about the crutches."

"That's five. There were six sent on this mission, right? Two ANBU cells."

Miho felt herself flinch.

He was right.

How had she not noticed? How had she not realized?

Two ANBU cells.

Miho couldn't tell if she was breathing, swallowing down the last of her protein ball. The peanut butter seemed to stick to the back of her throat.

Two three-man cells. Iwashi, Genma-sensei, and Raidō.

Asuma, Hayate, and—

Hayate's body was returned. Fū was in Konoha.

That meant...

The Hokage met Shikamaru's stare.

"Yamashiro Aoba was captured."

Miho hated the funeral uniform.

It clung just a bit too tightly to her hips.

Her hips seemed to be full of problems these days.

She'd bought the funeral uniform just a year ago, after Master Torifu died. Now, it made Miho uncomfortable— too tight, too constricting. It was her own fault for buying from a seller that didn't sell Akimichi clothing. She should've thought about it. There was nothing she could do about it now. She pulled in a breath, staring in the mirror on the back of her bedroom door. There were bags under her eyes, and she felt bone-tired, as if every bit of energy had been drained from her. She made a kind of half-hearted effort to pinch at her cheeks, to bring some color back. It faded under her clan markings.

Even her lips were pale.

Food didn't sound appealing. Just thinking of eating, at the moment, made her feel a bit sick. Indigestion seemed to sit constantly in her chest, bubbling under her heart.

It was only through Shin's prodding that she'd managed to get a shower after returning to the apartment the previous night. Now, her curls were kinked so unfortunately that she had to pull her hair back to make it somewhat decent. She tied it back with a black strip of fabric from her sewing materials.

It wasn't proper funeral hair, but Miho doubted that anyone would care.

She made her way from her room to Tetsuya's.

The apartment seemed more empty than normal.

Sasuke's closed door. Naruto's closed door.

Shin was showering, getting cleaned up after his stint at the hospital that morning.

Her stomach churned as she paused to look back at Naruto's door.

She'd need to tell Naruto...

"Stringbean?" Miho arrived to Tetsuya's door, knocked, and heard no response. Pulling in a breath, she pushed the door open and spied him lying on the bed, staring over at the rack of swords on his other wall. His arms were folded under his head, legs curled up to his chest. Miho swallowed, but the fullness never left her throat. "Tetsuya?"

His black eyes sharpened and he looked over to her. "Miho." Her teammate pulled himself upright, settling his feet on the floor. He made no move to stand. His attention tracked back over to the swords again.

A sword waiting for its matching brother.

Miho swallowed again and approached.

Pushing herself onto the bed, Miho reached for his hand and held it. Like she had the night before. Like he had years ago. It seemed…It seemed they'd always be like this. No matter how much longer his fingers got, no matter how broader his palm was now. Linked at the calloused hands, as if that might stave off the hurt, they'd face the world. Or this grief. Or give just a bit of reassurance.

Maybe that was the whole point, really.

Tetsuya let out a quivering breath.

"Mas-Master—"

Tetsuya stopped, seeming to choke on the name. Miho watched as he steeled himself, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he tried to control the onslaught. Part of her wished he would just lose it again. Yell and scream and cry. At least then she knew that the fire wasn't burning him alive from the inside out.

"Master Hayate…t-told me— Yūgao-sensei is pregnant."

Miho nearly gave into the heat building behind her eyes and nose. She lifted her eyes to stare at the ceiling, forcing the tears to stop. Just like Asuma. Her free hand clenched into his blanket so tightly that she felt her fingers pop.

This was never supposed to happen. It was never supposed to be—

Even when it was Asuma and Kurenai, it wasn't right.

But it was. Miho nearly shook with the effort of keeping her emotions level.

Breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

"We need to go. It's time."

When it all goes south...

Shin was in the doorway to Tetsuya's room. The light that normally seemed to dance in his eyes was gone, snuffed out by the grief that seemed to rest heavy on the apartment. She felt Tetsuya tense beside her. Miho cleared her throat and pushed herself forward, never once letting go of Tetsuya's hand.

He didn't move.

"Tetsuya—"

"What? My teacher was on borrowed time anyway?"

Miho let go of his hand as if it were on fire, sucking in a breath. She felt as if the air had been punched from her lungs. Tetsuya's dark eyes flashed before he seemed to realize what he'd said and how he'd said it. His face crumpled. Miho had always hated that expression. Like the guilt would eat him alive from the feet up. She knew what it felt like to be consumed.

She should've never told him.

Why did she tell him?

Genma-sensei told him first.

"Miho, I—" He lifted both hands. "I'm—"

Shin was further into the room now, voice firm. "We need to go. You need to be there. You are the only other inheritor. Hayate-sensei's legacy needs to be there. Get dressed." Miho felt Shin's hand rest on her shoulder as she passed him, looking for the refuge of the living room and kitchen. "Miho has already gotten the flowers and the basket. Get up. Now. Finish getting ready."

Tetsuya did as Shin commanded as if in a trance. Shin returned to the kitchen. He said nothing, letting his hands fall to his sides as Miho moved to grab the basket that she'd sat by the door. It was full of food, enough to keep Uzuki Yūgao— Hayate Yūgao— fed for at least three days.

An Akimichi standard during mourning periods.

Post-funeral baskets were a show of care from the Akimichi Clan.

Miho made everything in the basket herself as was standard practice. Proteins, starches, baked goods, soups.

Eating was even more essential now...

Yūgao was pregnant. Miho felt a thrill of nervous energy hit her when she glanced down at the basket. There was no fish. Salmon. Turning on her heel, Miho hurried back to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Her mother used to tell all the expectant mothers to eat salmon. Yūgao was eating for two now.

Her hands fretted with the wrapped breads and muffins, making sure none of them were squished as she settled a container of fresh sanpeijiru into the basket. She'd just made it the day before. It was one of Tetsuya's favorites. He said it 'didn't count as seafood since it was from the river.' Miho would just stop by the market again on the way home and remake some for him.

"She'll appreciate that."

Miho looked up to see Genma-sensei in the doorway, leaning heavily onto his crutches. She'd been too focused on the food.

Tears pricked at her eyes all over again at the sight of her teacher so injured, so obviously weakened and hurt, but still on his feet. He met her eyes over the counter. Shin was gone. She wondered if anyone had helped him from the hospital. She'd been told to stay away and handle the funeral preparations and Tetsuya. He must've seen her glance toward the door because her sensei shuffled, rolling his eyes.

"Gai's downstairs, mother hen. "

Not bothering to swallow down the tears, Miho set the basket down and hurried over to him, hands hovering above f his black-clad shoulders. She dropped her arms down again, knowing that a hug might hurt him. When she looked up to his face, she caught a glimpse of just how tired he was. The gash to his head at been healed, but the skin was scarred. It slit just under his hairline. Her attention flickered down to the cast, which covered his foot up to his knee.

Miho raised her eyes to meet his again.

He didn't put the mask back on and instead lowered his head until he was looking at her through his lashes. She could see that he was biting the inside of his cheek. Like he always did when he was trying to keep things under control.

"I'm fine." At her stare, he sighed. "Okay, I'm not fine. You're just as bad as Gai. But physically, I can handle this. You look thinner."

"Sensei..."

"You haven't been eating."

"Sensei."

"We'll talk about it later. Team Annoying's gonna meet us there." He was shifting the focus and Miho let him, stepping back and turning around to grab the basket. "Gai and his little band of miscreants are downstairs." He looked Miho over before jerking his head toward Tetsuya's room. He raised his brows.

Miho shook her head.

"Let's go."

Miho could hear Shin and Tetsuya stepping into the main space from Tetsuya's door. She turned away from Genma-sensei to make sure the fabric was covering the food in the basket (traditional red silk from the Akimichi stores) before looking up. Tetsuya lifted his head at the same time. Miho barely withheld a gasp, going still. She bit it down on her lip, focusing on her feet pressing against the floor to keep herself steady.

Her teammate wouldn't meet her eyes, glancing around the space as if seeing it anew for the first time. That's when he saw their teacher in the doorway.

"Gen-Genma-sensei..." He choked, looking to the man with wide, tear-filled eyes.

Genma-sensei said nothing, looking Tetsuya over.

Her teammate's hair was shorter now, falling in shaggy waves just past his jaw. Gone was his ponytail, the long hair he'd grown since Koji died. It was jagged, uneven. He'd just cut it in the time since she'd left his room, shorn it away with a blade. A kunai or a sword? Miho gulped down a swell of heartache that hurt like heartburn at the back of her throat.

She met Shin's dark eyes as he stood at Tetsuya's left shoulder.

"Genma-sen-sensei, I..."

"Come here, kid."

Tetsuya pulled in a breath and stepped forward, staggering toward where Genma-sensei stood. "Sensei..."

Miho watched as Genma-sensei pulled out a square of black cloth, handing it over into her teammate's shaking hands. "Seems like it might be more...more your style than mine today."

Valiantly trying to keep the sobs at bay, Tetsuya folded the square bandanna and reached up to wrap it around his head. When his hands lowered, they shook. Genma-sensei nodded at him, reaching out to settle a hand on Tetsuya's shoulder. The angle seemed more level now. Genma-sensei's hand seemed smaller compared to her teammate's broader shoulders. Tetsuya straightened, earning a nod from their teacher.

"He was so proud of you. And he truly believed you were the inheritor of his..." Genma-sensei stopped and took a breath. Tetsuya's posture was so straight and narrow, his upbringing in a formal, political clan was obvious. Genma-sensei continued, "You are his legacy. He loved you. Loved you like you were the family he never had." Her teacher's hand moved from Tetsuya's shoulder to his neck. "Let's go do this. Okay?"

Tetsuya nodded resolutely, squaring his shoulders.

Shin wasted no time and ushered her out after them. We can do this, his expression seemed to say. Genma-sensei kept to Tetsuya's side. Miho fell into step with Lee, who cast her a subdued look and gave her a gentle hug. The processional gathered mourners as it moved toward the cemetery.

She wondered if the weight on her shoulders was an illusion of the funeral uniform's constriction. Or if it was because it seemed like the air was heavier, the sun hotter, and everything just a little...removed from reality.

Because there was so many gaping holes where people should be.

Elder Torifu died of a common Akimichi illness: heart failure.

He'd said it had just been a matter of time.

Heavy weight bears a toll on the body. Even if her clan had long since evolved to support the body's weight taxation with chakra reinforcement of the organs and bones, the burden of too many expansions, too much strain, and too many uses of the Three Pills, would hurt any body.

Her master died at seventy-four years of age.

The oldest Akimichi to ever live.

Miho sat the package of onigiri on the granite marker, bowing formally to it as far as her clothing would allow. He would be fussing at her. "Stop being so frugal! Buy new dress clothes! You're of a noble clan, sweet bun. Dress the part." Miho smiled slightly and rested her hands on her haunches. He was a man of contradictions. All the formal pomp of fine silks for formal affairs; all the worn leathers of a working man from humble origins. Her master was a complex man.

She missed him.

The sun was setting, casting an orange and purple glow over the sky. The village seemed still, peaceful. Miho knew it was anything but. Another well-loved comrade was dead. A friend and mentor was captured. An unconscious jinchuriki was in the basement of the hospital. No one knew that part. A war was fast approaching. Yet all she seemed to be able to feel was the coolness of the soil melting into her knees where she knelt.

"Elder Torifu led a full life."

She had felt him approaching. He obviously wanted to give her the opportunity to turn him away.

Her father stepped up to her side. "He would be proud that you were promoted." Miho nodded, pulling at a piece of grass that had grown too long against the marker. Her father seemed to pull in a breath that was more tired and worn than she remembered.

The sanctions had 'ended,' but...only in so many ways.

Her family was being assigned more missions than ever and the taxes were still higher than they'd ever been. A reminder of what had almost happened. A reminder of the village's power, even over a noble clan.

"I am proud of your promotion, Miho. I'm proud of you."

Miho smiled just slightly before pushing herself up to stand. She leaned forward in a final bow to her master. He'd always told her that her father was a good man and that he would re-earn her trust with time. He'd also told her that forgiveness wasn't for her father, but for her. She still didn't quite understand what he'd meant by that. But... Miho turned to look up at her father.

He seemed older now. His eyes were closed against the breeze, as if he were soaking in the seeming peace of the moment in the warm evening sun.

His jowls hung looser. He'd lost weight. That realization sent a thrill of worry through her stomach. Her brother had only passingly mentioned that Papa had been eating less.

She shouldn't have shrugged Chōji off like she had. Now that she saw her father up close, she could see why her brother had been concerned enough to mention him. It hadn't just been Chōji's kind heart. It was his very real concern.

The village was keeping the clan in line, certainly. It seemed though...That her father was bearing the brunt of the cost. That's what a leader does, Miho. Miho remembered his words after one of his many stories. A leader never asks others to do anything they are not willing to do themselves.

When her father's eyes opened, she met them.

"Funerals have a way of reminding you of the life you've lived and the lives you've lost..." His eyes were so full of grief that Miho found she could barely withstand the sight of them. She wondered which of his family and friends he was mourning right then. Her grandparents? His teacher? His parents? Her mother? "I hope, Miho, that you do not one day know so many names on this hill. You will, but I hope it is not soon."

He stood for just a moment longer before drawing in another breath and releasing it. With one final look down at her, he turned on his hill and began making his way down toward the cemetery entrance. His eyes looked so much like Chōji's that her breath nearly caught. The same kindness, concern, strength. Even if it all seemed to be wavering. And then, the same grief and regret that always seemed to linger there whenever she was around.

His meat around his shoulders shook his he walked away. A bird flew through the sun's final rays of daylight, casting a quick shadow over her eyes.

In her mind, she saw a flash of light. Her father's face disappearing into it.

It was the same nightmare that Ino and Shikamaru constantly faced. When the final battle would take their fathers from them. There'd be nothing left to memorialize, save for their names and sacrifices. Just names on a memorial stone.

Things would begin moving faster soon. She knew they would.

Soon, everything would cascade out of control. She knew it. Shikamaru, Ino, and Chōji knew it. The Hokage knew it. Aoba-sensei was in enemy hands. Fu was alive. Two Akatsuki members were dead. Real or not, destiny writhed when you tried to kill it. Now, with less than a year until Naruto returned from his training and Sasuke re-emerged from ANBU, the reckoning would come. Soon.

She had to be ready.

More than that, she had to be...

Miho nearly called out for her father to stop, to walk with her to her Akimichi Chisato and Okuda Keisuke's markers. She bit the word back, nearly gagging on it as she turned he opposite direction.

The graves of her parents were in the eastern sector.

She sat between the polished granite stones as night fell.

A bit cynically, she thought as the sun went down, that grass was more comfortable than those damn hospital chairs.

A/N:

It's been such a long time! That's because of...you guessed it! I'm not even going to say it. Anyway, I've been working on this chapter here and there for the past couple months, but hit a pretty stout case of writer's block. Finally, I was able to piece it together.

Also, as a note, things regarding Aoba, Genma's recovery, and so on will become clearer next chapter! This one needed to deal with a couple things before we get into the next HUGE arch. We're now entering the Aoba Retrieval Arch!

Thank you so much for your patience and, as dark as this chapter was, I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you for your reviews, favorites, and follows!