"There's method in my madness,

There's no logic in your sadness,

You don't gain a single thing from misery,

Take it from me."

-King, Lauren Aquilina

I pressed both hands against a patch of mud, feeding it my chakra, feeling it solidify under my fingers. It lurched up and sideways into a solid wall, blocking off the hole.

Bits of the couch floated in knee-deep water.

Only the bottom of the staircase was intact, the walkway that was above in a collapsed, twisted heap in the corner.

I sat back. The pages of Naga's textbook were in burned, soggy pieces.

It was supposed to be a safe place.

Jiraya's book was gone.

I leaned forward until my forehead touched the wall.

All this because we wanted peace.

"Your chakra tastes like feet," Namekuji said.

He was suspended on the wall above me.

"It tasted like feet before," he added. "But now it tastes like advanced feet."

Mamoru-sensei washed off the blood, but there were still pink stains on his clothes.

"I thought you only like Naga's chakra," I murmured.

All this because of Hanzo the Bastard.

"It's the most convenient," he agreed. "But your chakra feels different. More potent. I wanted to see if it tasted better, but no, advanced feet."

Yahiko sat against the opposite wall, head tucked between his knees.

"I'm tired," I quietly admitted.

Joji was propped up on the stairs, pale and unconscious.

"Yeah," Namekuji said. He shifted down and crawled into my lap. "How am I supposed to eat her paper now?"

I laughed, wiping my blurry eyes with my sleeve.

"I can't believe I let myself get attached to you smelly humans," he added.

"You're always so mean," I said. It was the only constant when everything else was backwards.

"Smell yourself right now," he dared me.

I fought a smile, shaking my head.

"See? It's not mean if it's the truth."

"It's not the truth and it's still mean," I said back.

Namekuji rolled his eyes. "Someone needs to teach you the definition of both those words."

I sobered. "I miss Kota," I murmured.

Namekuji looked up. "We'll get him back for it," he promised. "And for the big guy too."

I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed.

君は

"I can't do this," Etsudo announced.

She avoided my eyes when I looked up, arms wrapped around herself. Maho, looking for something salvageable in the walkway wreckage, glanced back at her, but she avoided his gaze, too.

"This—This is why I retired," she continued, shuddering. "I barely pulled myself back together after my son and now—" she stopped, ducking her head. Her shoulders hunched. "Maybe it makes me weak. I don't know. But I can't keep doing this. I can't."

Yahiko didn't look up.

"I've been trying to make up the debt I owe the Akatsuki, little by little. But I didn't sign up for war," she said, squeezing her arms. "I stayed because I believed in what you guys were trying to do, but that's off the table now."

Mamoru-sensei sighed.

"Where will you go?" I asked.

"No idea," Etsudo answered quietly, eyes dark. "Nowhere is safe from Hanzo. But I'll manage. Have to if I'm ever going to re-open my shop."

I traced the stripes on Namekuji's back. "Can we visit, when you do?"

"Of course you can. I'll have a special discount just for the Akatsuki." She tried to smile but couldn't manage it.

It was quiet for a few seconds. She shuffled in place, glancing at Mamoru-sensei. "Take care of yourself, Mamo."

Mamoru-sensei made a motion, as if to cross his arms, then dropped his lone hand back on his leg. "Don't get yourself killed," he finally said.

"How would I tell your students embarrassing stories of you if I'm dead?" Etsudo asked, trying at playfulness.

He grimaced.

Etsudo looked down and away. "It has to end, somehow," she said quietly, then pulled open the door and slipped out.

I stood, ignoring Namekuji's complaints about his personal heater moving, and followed her outside. I watched her walk away, rubbing her arms.

She didn't look back.

Naga was on his knees a few feet to my left, hands caked in mud. A half-planted swamp lily was in the ground in front of him. He glanced back at Etsudo, then scooped out a handful of mud and patted it down to cover the roots.

There were more lilies around him and planted along the edge of the warehouse.

Too many for Konan, Osamu, and Kota. They were for the shinobi Namekuji killed, too.

"They don't deserve it," I said.

Naga paused. "That doesn't matter," he quietly said. "If it wasn't for me, they'd still be alive."

My fists clenched. "They helped."

They helped kill her.

Naga unrolled a scroll on his knee and used his cleanest finger to summon a perfectly preserved swamp lily, catching it before it slid off. "This is how I'm grieving, Oka," he responded, quieter.

It burned me to see them around the hideout.

They played a part in killing everyone else, too.

I could rip them up and Naga wouldn't stop me.

I slowly breathed in. I wanted to. I so badly wanted to.

They don't deserve your kindness.

But it wasn't about that. It wasn't because he was kind.

I still didn't understand why. "Which one is for Kota?"

Naga stopped in the middle of digging a hole. "I haven't found a place for them yet," he answered.

No matter how bad he felt, he wouldn't put them with the people who killed them.

"Yahiko wouldn't like it," I told him.

"He wouldn't no matter where I put them," Naga responded.

I sat behind him and leaned against his back. "Why do you think like that?" I asked. "I don't feel bad when I kill someone."

I heard him moving mud around. "When I was four, I read make-believe books and was taught to write," he began. "But when you were four, you helped us pat down the dead for weapons and learned to water-walk."

"You read me make-believe books," I pointed out.

"I did," he agreed, lowering the lily in a hole. "But those books weren't for teaching. You were too sick and small to read the books I did, and I never went back for them."

I picked up mud and watched it dribble through my fingers. "Books taught you to feel bad?" I asked.

Naga paused again. "Civilian books," he answered. "I don't think our parents wanted me to be a shinobi."

What kind of person would he be, without the burden of guilt?

Who would I be if I felt guilty when I killed?

"Did Mama or Papa have eyes like mine?" I asked.

I heard him pat mud down. "No. It's a dōjutsu," he said.

"'Dōjutsu?'"

"It's supposed to run in the family," he explained. "But I don't know enough about our family to say for sure."

I looked at my muddy palm. "Do all dōjutsu come with special powers?"

Naga hesitated. "I think so, but they're secrets. My textbook didn't go into detail."

I hummed. "I should hide them?"

"No," he answered. "Just don't write them down."

I stretched back against him, arms above my head, and smiled at the half-grumble, half-laugh that came from him as he was forced to bend down.

できる

I broke the surface and Naga held both arms up against the spray, sitting at the bank

His eyes were on Maho, who wasn't there when I went under.

The fish wriggled defiantly in my grip and I tossed it onto the grass, pulling myself out.

"I want to become a medic-nin," Maho said.

Naga's eyebrows shot up. I squeezed water out of my braid.

"I don't want to have to kill anyone. I don't know if I can. When the hideout was attacked, I—I froze," he continued, fists clenching. "I just sat and watched. I don't know if I could've helped or I would've just been in the way, but I didn't even try."

"You would've been in the way," I told him.

Naga shook his head at me.

Maho frowned. "If I knew medical ninjutsu, then maybe I could've—maybe it wouldn't have turned out the way it did."

Maybe I could've saved Kota.

It was what he meant. I looked away, watching the fish flop around.

No, he couldn't have. Even if he got to her the second it happened, the blow destroyed her heart.

Not even Naga was that good. My chest ached.

Maho bowed. "I'll do anything."

Naga hesitated. "It's not easy," he warned.

"I know," Maho said. "I'll take it seriously."

Naga looked at him for a few seconds, then sat up. "First, tell me how much you know about anatomy."

Maho jerked up. He looked surprised, scrambling to kneel in front of Naga. "Only the basics, Nagato-sensei—"

Naga looked faintly embarrassed at the title. Konan would've teased him for it.

"—Your textbook taught me more than Iwagakure," he admitted.

I wondered if Naga had the same thought because he suddenly had sad eyes. I turned further away, fully facing the fish.

No amount of squeezing would get all the water out of my hair, but I pretended to try anyway.

する

"It's too small," Yahiko said, circling the interior of the cave.

It was a quarter of the size of the warehouse, but it was dry.

It had a high ceiling and yellow-brown stalagmites poked out of the walls.

Yahiko and I had to duck into the entrance and walk down a short tunnel to reach the open space.

"It's the best cave I found," Naga said, shrugging.

Yahiko crossed his arms, unconvinced. He eyed the stalagmites.

Naga suddenly went stiff, a second before I heard a familiar deep voice behind me.

"Hello again, Oka," it said.

Naga whipped around. Yahiko grabbed the handle of the nagamaki at his back but didn't unsheathe it. I turned and smiled.

Most of Zetsu was underground. Only its shoulders and head were visible. Without it, I never would've saved Yahiko.

Yahiko didn't take his eyes off it, nor did he take his hand off his weapon. Naga frowned deeply, eyes flicking between me and Zetsu.

I waved. "Where did you go, after?"

"Back to that 'friend' I told you about," Zetsu answered. "He wanted to meet you."

A shadow ducked into the cave, standing in the way of the exit. He pulled his hood back and my smile faded when I saw his mask. It was white, not orange, but it had the same swirly design, the same lone eyehole.

"I am Madara Uchiha," the figure announced.

Yahiko frowned. "What do you want from Oka?"

"How did you meet her?" Naga demanded.

The masked man took a measured, lengthy look at each of them. He refocused on me. "I came to this war-torn village to fulfil the sacred mission of my organization," he answered Yahiko. "To be a guiding light to the one possessing the Rinnegan. It has been a mission entrusted to us since the time of the Sage of Paths."

I looked at Zetsu again.

Yahiko unsheathed his nagamaki. "Now I know you're full of shit."

"You've seen her power with your own eyes, haven't you?" The man challenged. "What she is capable of cannot be explained by what you know of chakra, can it?"

Yahiko didn't answer.

"That power—it only manifests in the reincarnation of the Sage of Six Paths, who dreamt to unite the countries in peace—"

"You're with him?" I asked Zetsu.

"His will is my will," Zetsu answered.

I hummed. "Too bad."

All eyes in the room were on me.

I looked back at the masked man. "I saw you in a nightmare once," I said.

There was a beat of silence.

Naga leapt with enough force to crack the ground, kunai in hand, eyes murderous. He shoved the point forward at the masked man's neck, but the kunai—and then my brother—phased through him.

He phased through the gunbai like a ghost.

Naga rolled, coming up in a crouch behind him. His eyes narrowed.

The masked man didn't turn around.

Zetsu looked curiously at him and I held my hand up in warning.

Naga and Yahiko didn't use any jutsu because the cave would come down on top of us, but I would destroy it all if Zetsu touched my brother.

Naga looked at Zetsu, at me, then squeezed his eyes shut.

"It's to be expected. Our organization has existed for centuries, and your past incarnation was well acquainted with us. Any dream of me would only be your past communing with your present self," the masked man told us. "With the power of the Rinnegan, you can create a world of only victors, of complete and total peace—"

"What do you know about him?" Yahiko spoke over him, glancing at me, nagamaki held out in front of him.

I looked at the ceiling as I thought. "In the genjutsu, he killed Naga."

The masked man paused.

But that wasn't all, was it?

I only noticed how hard Yahiko squeezed the handle because he was beside me. "Anything else?" he asked. His voice didn't waver.

There was something else I forgot. Some big, important piece—

I was terrified of him back then.

I wondered why.

He pulled my feet, sucking me into a never-ending darkness hidden behind his red eye—

"Don't look at his eyes," I said, sudden and quiet.

Yahiko's smile was grim. "Too late."

Naga's eyes snapped open. They were gold. Blue lines adorned his face. He stood, turning to Zetsu. "I'll only ask you once. How did you meet my sister?"

"It's not as nefarious as you appear to think," the masked man answered, facing him. "If it wasn't for my intervention, the leader of your organization would be dead—"

Yahiko darted forward, eyes narrowed to slits. He sliced diagonally up through the masked man's back, the blade passing through his chest and coming out at his neck. It met no resistance.

Naga took a quick step back as Yahiko stumbled forward, caught himself, and jumped back.

"Despite popular belief," the masked man began again. "All we want is to collaborate with you. Only we know the full extent of what the Sage of Six Paths was capable of with the Rinnegan, and we want to help you reach that potential—"

"How long can you stay intangible?" Yahiko interrupted, nagamaki against his shoulder.

The masked man stared at him.

"Is it space-time ninjutsu?" Yahiko asked, undeterred. "You'd be surprised by how hard it is to find books on it around here."

His stare lingered.

I aimed my palm at him. "Hurt Yahiko and there'll be nowhere in the whole world you can hide from me," I promised.

Yahiko tapped the nagamaki against his shoulder, waiting for an answer.

The air distorted in front of the masked man, warping his body until he was completely sucked in. He disappeared.

"You continue to astound, Oka," Zetsu complimented. It sank into the ground.

Yahiko glanced at Naga.

"Madara's chakra is gone," he murmured. "The plant is moving fast underground, away from here."

"He's not Madara," Yahiko said. "That's how I'd imagine he'd sound and act, but he clearly didn't know Oka if he thought she would buy that."

"I didn't even get to use Sage Mode," Naga mused, marks fading.

Yahiko patted his shoulder. "It'll be a surprise for next time."

キング

Joji's eyes were glazed over.

Naga knelt on the bottom step, leaning over him, glowing hands on his stomach. Namekuji was wedged between Joji and the wall, dulling his nerves with slime.

I looked down at him over what was left of the rail. "What's wrong with him?"

"Parasite," Naga muttered, eyes narrowed. "Microsporisiosis."

I hummed like I knew what that meant.

"Water got into his wound before Nagato got to him and it's making him sick," Namekuji explained, looking up at Naga. "Don't you drink the water outside?"

"We boil it," Naga said absently.

"That... helps?"

"Why did you think we boiled water?" I asked.

"You've always done strange things. Why wear clothes when they're wet all the time?"

"Why do you—"

"I hate that he's still alive," Yahiko said suddenly.

Naga looked up.

Yahiko sat alone in the middle of the room, nagamaki across his lap, fists clenched. His feet were underwater, and he stared down at them. "I'm going to take everything from him, and then I'm going to kill him."

Mamoru-sensei shook his head, sitting against a wall. "I want revenge as much as you do, but don't let this turn you into someone you're not, Yahiko."

Yahiko didn't answer.

The warehouse was a minefield of memories.

Kota was there when I woke up, punching my shoulder, telling me to hurry up so we could spar. Konan followed me as I walked around, threatening me when I didn't listen to her, begging me to charm Namekuji into not eating her paper.

I didn't want to think about them, but we didn't have anywhere else to go.

"If you wanted revenge," Yahiko began. "You wouldn't be trying to change my mind."

Mamoru-sensei tilted his head back at that. "Remember who your allies are," is all he said.

Yahiko's shoulders hunched. "If you don't like who I am, you don't have to be here."

Mamoru only closed his eyes.

Naga stood. "Yahiko. Enough."

Yahiko didn't look at him. "It'll be enough when he's dead."

Naga shook his head. "We all lost her."

Yahiko pushed himself up. He was suddenly furious. "You think you know what it feels like, but you don't know. You can't," he yelled.

Hurt flash across Naga's face.

I stepped in front of him, facing Yahiko. "Too far."

Yahiko opened his mouth, closed it. He looked at us, shook his head, and walked away.

再び

I sat on a bridge, legs crossed, facing the other side of the canal.

Mamoru-sensei leaned back against a rust-spotted rail next to me.

The Akatsuki were supposed to help people. Does being 'at war' mean we should stop helping people?

How many shinobi helped kill Konan?

I wondered what I'd do if a shinobi hurt by Namekuji's acid came to us.

"Why stay?" I asked, twisting to face Mamoru-sensei.

Mamoru stared at the far end of the canal. "Because I care too much about you kids," he answered. "I decided a long time ago that I'd see this through to the end, no matter what end that may be."

"I don't know if I believe in peace anymore, sensei," I admitted.

Mamoru glanced at me.

"Peace killed Konan."

"If you think that, the Salamander's already won."

I stared at him.

"The Salamander did what he did to break the Akatsuki," he continued. "There were easier ways to kill us off. He didn't have to let you go at the border, and he didn't have to let the rest of us live. He wanted to send a message, not turn us into martyrs. He wants the villagers to watch us give up, for his power over Amegakure to be absolute. If you don't believe in peace anymore, this war is pointless. The Salamander's already beaten you."

My eyes widened. I looked at his empty, tied sleeve. Despite all his friends being dead, he still believed in peace. "Why do you still believe in it?"

Mamoru-sensei didn't answer right away. His smile was bitter. "Spite," he finally answered.

He didn't want to end the war, like Yahiko. He didn't want to make people happy again, like Konan. It was a personal, selfish reason.

But the result would still be the same.

"I've thought of leaving peace behind," Mamoru-sensei continued. "Tadao, Osamu, Konan. They each gave me a reason to quit. But I never could." He paused. "What else is there to believe in, if not peace?"

I stood, moved closer, and leaned against the rail.

I wanted peace because I wanted everyone to see the sun.

But it hurt so much.

I peered down at the dirty canal.

Would it be okay to want peace for the same reason as Mamoru-sensei?

Could I want peace because I wouldn't let Hanzo the Bastard win?

I leaned my cheek on my hand. "You should talk to Yahiko about this—"

Mamoru's head swiveled toward the other end of the bridge. A shinobi wearing a rebreather was there, uninjured, shuriken between his fingers. I took a step away from the rail and saw a shinobi on the opposite side. Two more stood on the water, boxing us in.

I palmed a kunai.

One of the shinobi on the water raised a hand, signaling—

The shinobi holding shuriken abruptly dropped to one knee with a pained hiss. A familiar boy stood behind him, shoving something small and sharp into the shinobi's ankle. Blood dribbled down his fingers. He was taller than I remembered, but still had short, badly cut hair.

I looked at the twine around my wrist, the bits of thread sticking out.

Mamoru-sensei made the rat seal and disappeared into the depths of a genjutsu. There were shouts around me, orders to not let Mamoru escape, but I could only focus on the boy.

He looked surprised at himself, jerking away from the knife as the shinobi pushed himself up, turning furious eyes on him.

The boy turned to run. As the shinobi cocked his hand back to throw shuriken, I threw my right hand up.

I stared at the twine and chakra lurched to my palm. The shinobi jerked back, yanked up and off his feet as I pulled him towards me.

Mamoru-sensei melded out of thin air before he could reach me, shoving a kunai deep into his chest. He used the momentum to toss the body over the rail.

I dropped my hand.

Two of the shinobi had turned on each other on the water. One only evading, yelling at the other, who attacked wildly, eyes only half-open.

The boy stared at me with wide eyes.

I glanced at the shinobi behind me, his hands together in the hare seal. He reared back and spat a long blade of water at me.

I gathered chakra to my feet to jump when Mamoru-sensei appeared in front of me.

Tiger. Snake. Rat. Snake. Tiger.

Water crested up in front of him in a wave.

There was a crash as the jutsu's collided, a spray as I was showered with water, but the wall held.

Mamoru-sensei lowered his hand and the wall crashed down.

There were two bodies in the canal. The one who refused to attack her comrade was floating faceup, a red line carved down the front of her flak-jacket. The other was facedown, a kunai buried so deeply in the back of his head that only the hilt was visible.

The last shinobi was suddenly feet away, the wave still falling around us. He'd used it to hide his leap.

Mamoru-sensei made the hare seal and the water that was still in the air stood still, suspended for a moment before it shot down, wrapped tight around the shinobi's feet, and yanked.

I watched him twist in mid-air and cut through the tentacle-like limb, only for another to circle his arm. A third wrapped around his waist.

It looked like the water was swallowing him.

The tentacles jerked him over the side and down into the canal. He didn't come back up.

Mamoru-sensei dropped his hand and leaned back against the rail. "There was a time when I could do that two or three times without feeling it," he panted.

I'd never seen Mamoru-sensei fight like this before. He used to be Hanzo the Bastard's friend.

I heard footsteps behind me.

The boy stood close, staring at the twine on my wrist. His expression crumpled and he wiped his arm hard against his eyes. "All the bad stuff eryone is sayin' happened is true?" he asked, hiccupping. "Miss Kota ain't here 'nymore?"

I thought of giving the twine necklace back to him. It was his gift, after all.

My hand didn't move.

The boy cursed and stomped his feet. "I'm glad I hit 'em," he hissed. "All of 'em should die!"

I stepped close to him and patted his shoulder. His head jerked up, snot and tears on his face.

"They will," I promised.

His eyes widened. He sniffed hard, looking away as he dug around in his pocket. He thrust his hand out, a shiny black rock in his palm. "Didn' get to give it to her."

I took it. It felt bumpy, and I didn't see anything special about it. But I knew it would've meant the world to Kota.

I smiled at him. "I'll take good care of it."

A/N: 君は- You, できる- Can, する- Be, キング- King, 再び - Again

Imagine how ineffective canon!Obito would've been if he was interrupted every five seconds.

You thought that genjutsu sequence from chapter 8 meant nothing, did you? Well think again!

Mamoru is the level of petty I aspire to be.