The sisters were silent as they left the Hokage Tower. Hiroko walked a step ahead of Mayuri, beaming with excitement despite the way her fingers tugged nervously at her long hair. She spun to walk backwards, nearly bumping into her sister in the process. Mayuri was solemn and chewing on the insides of her cheeks, if the twisting of her lips was any indicator. Hiroko frowned.

"What's the matter?"

"We did it," Mayuri said. Her voice shook a little bit, quiet in a way that spoke of fear.

"That was the point, wasn't it? Find a home here. Get away from...the other place."

Mayuri nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I just can't…." She took a deep, shuddering breath. Hiroko's frown deepened, and she reached out to take her sister's hand. Mayuri flinched, but didn't pull away. "I can't stop thinking something is going to go wrong. That this is a trick or something."

"Maybe it is," Hiroko murmured, stepping closer so they were almost pressed together, as close to a hug as she would dare to try right now. "But that doesn't mean we should just give up, does it? We could still find some helpful information or do something cool, right?" She tried a smile.

"When did you become the optimist in this family?" Mayuri asked, forcing a shaky smile of her own.

Hiroko didn't voice what she was thinking, but instead made her smile a little brighter as she said, "Well, we got what we came here for, right? We are now officially a part of the village, going to school, starting a new life."

"Yeah, it's...great."

"Yeah! So what do you want to do next?" Hiroko couldn't help but feel a spark of amusement at the way her sister blanched. Since Mayuri had returned to Hiroko's side, one of the few joys Hiroko found was inciting new reactions from her. It was like watching someone rediscover their emotions one breath at a time.

"You don't have a plan?"

"Nah. The whole game plan was basically get the hell outta dodge and then figure it out when we got here." There was a twist to her smile that said that wasn't quite true, but inside the walls of an unknown Hidden Village she couldn't really speak candidly.

"Maybe we should find where we'll be staying tonight?" Mayuri suggested hesitantly .

"Oh, yeah! Good idea."

With that, Hiroko turned and continued on. There was silence behind her, but she knew that Mayuri would be following. She hummed softly, a half remembered tune, and her mismatched eyes darted to take in her surroundings. Every leaf and ray of sunshine felt like a gift. The feeling of hard packed dirt and soft grass beneath her feet and the bright colors surrounding them made her feel alive in a way she hadn't since waking up in this world. She wiggled her toes, which were shoved inside shoes for the first time in years.

The area around the Hokage tower was quiet. There was birdsong and flowers, and insects gliding overhead on gossamer wings. Somewhere in the distance, barely loud enough to tickle her senses, she could hear the sound of living. It made her breath catch in her throat.

She was excited to meet new people. She wanted to see new things and experience life outside of the darkness of the caverns and tunnels of Otogakure. The expedition to Kirigakure had been familiar in a way she didn't like; new experiences wrapped in a shroud of danger and uncertainty.

There was that here, too, but at least it wasn't dreary and dark. There was no fog and (hopefully) no one who could place her and Mayuri as noble clan members. She felt safer here. Whether that was an illusion or not, she didn't care. She was going to revel in it for as long as she was able to.

Her excitement ended pretty much as soon as they left the serenity of the meadows surrounding the Hokage Tower and found themselves wandering through the streets, trying to find the orphanage.

.

There were two weeks before the new school year began. Until then, they were able to stay at the village orphanage together. After the school year began and Hiroko started attending the shinobi academy, they would have to be seperated. Apparently there was a big divide between shinobi and civilians, even at such young ages.

"We'll figure it out," Mayuri murmured, her voice soft and calm while her fingers squeezed Hiroko's so hard that it hurt. It made sense that Mayuri wouldn't be put into close contact with shinobi, who might be able to see the scars and the haunted look in her eyes for what they really were. Their mission would be in danger if anyone noticed that there was more to Mayuri than what met the eye. It still sucked, though.

They were given a spot in the orphanage without any fuss, an order signed by the Hokage declaring their status as immigrants to Konohagakure. Their room was a shared one, the walls lined with bunk beds and a single wardrobe for the children to share.

The sisters took separate bunks, both on the bottom, so they could keep eyes on one another easily. It should have been an easy transition. They had both been through far worse in the past few years, and they had grown up in a different place sharing rooms and learning to deal with the chaos of lots of children packed into one place.

It wasn't easy, though.

For three years they had been living underground in a village that valued quiet despite its name. They were used to the soft crackle of torches, water dripping in the distance, and the almost imperceptible groaning of the earth around them.

Suddenly, there was an overwhelming cacophony of sound all around them all the time. There were children screaming and crying and laughing. There was the bustle of people passing in the streets and the thud of shinobi on the roof above their heads. There were barking dogs and all manner of livestock making a ruckus at random times of day. Hiroko felt like her head might explode.

Mayuri, on the other hand, didn't seem bothered by anything. She stayed quiet and kept her head down, not interacting with anyone other than Hiroko, not leaving her bed unless ordered to do so.

(The part of her that is still Elle suddenly understands the looks Avery would give her when she realized that things were beginning to get Bad again. The worry, the caution, the infuriating gentleness that Avery would treat her with when she found razors missing their blades, or noticed plates still full after dinner. She can't help but wonder if this is some kind of twisted version of karma, a whole lifetime later.)

There were days when she thought that maybe things weren't so bad after all. Days where she would hear Mayuri laugh, or when she could see the life beginning to return to her eyes. On those days, she knew that coming to Konoha was the right choice. She knew that the sunshine and the fresh air and the rustling of leaves were what her sister needed right now. Even with the overwhelming noise and the crush of people, it was worth it to have left the cage of earth that they had been trapped beneath for years.

Those days gave her hope that things would improve.

Even with so many new things to see and do, Hiroko and Mayuri had barely left the orphanage. Mayuri hardly spoke to anyone despite the fact they shared a room with a half-dozen other kids. Neither sister was sure what they would do once the two weeks were up and they were forced to live in separate facilities. They were almost out of time.

.

"It's not like we'll never see each other again," Hiroko said. There was no one else in the room with them, but she still spoke quietly, afraid of being overheard. Mayuri nodded, and chewed her lips until they bled. Her bones ached.

.

"We'll get to see each other every day. We just have to sleep in different rooms, that's all," Mayuri mumbled, watching the sun set and counting the days they had left. Time passed far too quickly. The sunsets that had been a blessing just days before had become ominous, counting down the moments until they were forced to leave each other's side again.

.

"It's not that scary," Hiroko assured her, gathering her things and readying her pack. She would be moving the following morning. Mayuri slipped into her bed that night, pressed tight against her sister. From this close, Hiroko could feel the way her bones moved beneath her skin, writhing like living things. They poked and prodded, and with every breath she was terrified that they would slip from Mayuri's body and find a home wedged between her own ribs.

Though she would never say it out loud, she knew that once they were seperated, she would sleep much better. Well, much better until the nightmares of what had happened to her sister came rushing back to her. The guilt would keep her awake then.

.

"I'll see you after school tomorrow." Hiroko's fingers slipped from Mayuri's. Mayuri watched her walk away, frozen. It felt like a last goodbye, even if she knew it wasn't. They had already had their final goodbye before, hadn't they? And they had seen each other again, even if Mayuri had come back changed.

.

"I'm just being dramatic," Mayuri told herself as she got ready for bed, eyeing the empty bed across from her. She hated that she already knew the place her sister had slept would be filled again by tomorrow. She wondered when she had become so weak.

She tore her gaze away and rolled over, pulling her blankets up to cover her face. She was cold and she was lonely, and there was an aching pit deep inside her chest. Mayuri just wanted to go home.

.

"We'll see each other in the morning," Hiroko mumbled to herself as she got ready for bed in a larger orphanage halfway across town.

She tried not to think of the time her sister was missing, of the horrible things that had happened while they were seperated. Konoha was new and the people here were not to be trusted, but she didn't have any reason to suspect that anyone here meant them any harm yet. She tried to push her anxiety away, tried to ignore the fear that was churning in her stomach. It was a little easier than it used to be, the hormones and chemicals that had been unbalanced in her past life not as fucked up in the shiny new brain she had. If there was anything good that came from body switching, it was that.

Still, sometimes the tightness in her chest and the little voices in her head became too much. A lifetime's worth of depression and fear would rise up like the tide to swallow her beneath its terrible darkness. She hoped that tonight wouldn't be such a night, because she really didn't want that to be the first impression her new roommate had of her.