Chapter 143

Full Circle: The Inheritors of their Dream

The Fifth Hokage was first to depart.

Accompanied by Tonbo Tobitake, who took on the unfortunate task of carrying Mizuki's withered form, and after a quick examination of the gathered shinobi, she vanished off into the shadows of the forest leaving nothing of her presence but a few falling leaves swaying in the wind.

The small company of shinobi followed soon after. Without arguments. They were all eager to return to their homes, behind the safety of sturdy walls where they could finally lay down, stretch out and rest. Truly rest. They wanted out of the cold air, off the cold ground, escaping into a soft bed beneath the warm and welcoming sheets.

Moving at a slower, less urgent pace than they had through the incident, Iruka carried Naruto on his back, the boy of the pair yawning and, at times, dozing off on his Academy teacher's shoulder. Shizune braced Tsubaki, one arm slung around the back of her neck as they moved together.

Shikamaru, Ino and Chōji all kept pace on their own, as did Sasuke and Sakura. Silently, as it was pointless to voice a meager complaint shared by the group, they lamented their tired bodies, their heavy legs and aching feet.

The two Anbu agents and the Crows shadowed the company from the trees, invisible to the naked eye.

Amari found herself piggybacked by Kurenai, in step with Iruka in what was certainly the center of their defense formation, evident by Mito Uzumaki hovering between her and Naruto.

Lady Tsunade must have had the same thought I did, she thought, resting her chin on her mother's shoulder. If the Masked Man is watching, he may see this as a perfect opportunity to show himself again. If Lady Mito wasn't here, anyway. She is an undead deterrent.

Madara was shell of his former self, by his own admission. Lady Mito, while old, had access to unlimited chakra, the Nine-Tails power, years of experience and jutsus she no longer had to restrain herself from unleashing.

He didn't strike her as the type to take an unnecessary risk for little reward. He didn't have to. For all intents and purposes, he had all the time in the world to plot and plan his moves.

There was no rush. There was no reason to confront Mito Uzumaki when she was not bound to any of their mortal frailty.

As long as she is here, I think we'll be safe.

Safe. Amari fought down a bitter chuckle. She'd thought she was safe at her own home not even a handful of hours ago. Then it was set on fire by rogue shinobi, doused by an Anbu agent, and in who knows what kind of condition now.

Amari sighed.

"Are you all right, little one?" Kurenai asked softly.

Physically she was downright exhausted. Without the anxiety clutched around her heart and the dozens of questions racing through her mind she would have tapped out for the day, shut her eyes and leapt off into the land of dreams.

Her ankle had settled into a dull, persistent ache. Muscle aches cramped along the length of her legs and up into her pelvis even while being carried; her back was definitely bruised. And to top it all off, she had a craving for ice cream and sweets like an Akimichi's craving for barbecue.

Those were measly complaints, though. Everyone was sore. Everyone was tired. Everyone was hungry. She didn't see the point in groaning about it. It would only slow them down, she reasoned, when all she needed was good nights rest.

And food. Preferably a small jar of ice cream she could huddle with on the couch.

Besides, Kurenai was wise to her thoughts and feelings. She would know better than to believe any of those reasons could bring about such a gloom.

"I'm worried about our home," she mumbled despondently.

She'd been so furious about the attack, the tongue-like flames in her heart rising higher than the Fire Jutsu that set the roof ablaze, it hadn't occurred to her to examine the extent of the damage. Now the flame was just a grey pit of smoldering ash stinking of anxiety and guilt.

"What happened?"

"I was ambushed by two shinobi. One of them set the roof on fire. Mr. Anbu doused it, so maybe the damage won't be that bad, but…"

"Is that all you're worried about?" Kurenai asked, a mild laugh in her voice.

"It's…our home." The laugh stumbled her. It was half baffled and half amused, questioning her concerns as though they were completely unreasonable and a bit funny.

"It's just a house, little one."

"Yes, but…" Amari hesitated. Was she being a worrywart over nothing? Surely their house and it's possibly destroyed roof warranted concern, didn't it?

"Why aren't you more upset about this?" she asked, leaning forward to try to look her mother in the eyes. "You worked hard to buy it. What if the roof caved in while we were gone? Or the damage is so extensive we have to move out?"

"We'll figure something out, then."

"You didn't take any blows to the head, right?" Amari began to examine her mother's head, peering around it and parting her wild black hair in search of lumps or signs of dry blood. "Lady Tsunade checked everyone, but maybe she missed a concussion."

"I don't have a concussion," Kurenai chuckled. "You're worrying over nothing."

"It doesn't seem like nothing to me," she sank back down, resting her cheek against the back of her mother's shoulder. "Our home was damaged by some jerk with a bad neck scar. Why aren't you worried?"

"Easy. Because you're safe." Kurenai turned her head to look at Amari, a loving smile on her lips. "You are my life, little one. Wherever you are is home to me."

"Me too." She felt the same. She did. "It's just… You changed my life there," she said, looking away. "It's where I… It's where I was saved. Where I finally found happiness after losing everything." She clutched her mother's shoulders a little tighter. "I.. I guess I'm afraid if we lose the house I'll lose everything again. I've had to start over from scratch twice. I don't want to do it a third time."

"I understand. But nothing is lost," Kurenai reassured. "Even if our home was destroyed, you would still be my daughter. And I would still love you."

Amari shut her eyes tightly.

You idiot, she chastised herself. I was saved in my room, but it wasn't the room or the house that saved me. It wasn't the soft pillows or the bed or the room I was gifted access to. It was the supportive hand she placed on my shoulder as I pressed my tear stained face against the floor. It was her reassuring smile, her good hunch and her embrace as I tackled myself into her to bawl my eyes out.

Mom saved me. And she's here. She's okay.

She was still upset about the damage; it was their home and her sanctuary since she returned to the Leaf. But…

Amari nuzzled into the crook of her mother's neck.

"I'm happy you're safe," she said.

Kurenai nuzzled her back. "I'm happy you are as well."

The memories we've made, our bond, they aren't bound to that room or our home. They're always with me. Just like Shisui. Just like my parents.

"Maybe we could ask Mr. Anbu to give us a discount on roof repair?" she thought out loud. "He kind of owes us."

"Mmhm," her mother smiled. "How so?"

"He erected a dome and bound another prisoner in a Wood Style jutsu he created from our roof. I'm no carpenter, but I'm pretty sure that goes against safety standards."

"I'm sure he had his reasons," Kurenai hummed in knowing laughter.

"I suppose he did. Still, it'd be a quick fix and wouldn't require us to use resources the rest of the Village needs."

A darkly amusing thought came to mind. Amari stifled the giggle it caused to little effect.

"Uh-oh," Kurenai glanced back at her, smiling widely. "What has that scheming brain thought of now?"

"Oh, it's nothing," she pretended to play it off innocently. "I was just thinking we could keep the prisoner as a roof decoration."

"Is that so? Now I'm curious. What kind of decoration could he be?"

"I'm thinking we ask Mr. Anbu to position his body just right so it's facing people on the street. Then all we have to do is place some incense candles at his feet and ask the Crows to station a few agents around him at all times and he'll be like a freaky skeleton displayed at a witches hut. We'll use him to ward off unwanted guests."

Mito, who had been silent until then, let out a belly laugh at the suggestion. Iruka smiled warily. Her teammates and friends all suffered a sense of dread that, perhaps, the warnings they'd received of Amari's inherited unique sense of humor was beginning to finally mature.

"I'm not sure, little one," her mother played along. "Neither of us have the wardrobe to be witches. Or the crone like noses."

"What about enchantresses?"

"Mm. Beware the Enchantresses of Konoha," her mother said, as if pondering the idea seriously. She smiled. "I like that. I'll have to tell Anko."

"What about Asuma-sensei? Shouldn't you warn him you're an Enchantress?"

"No," her mother smiled confidently. "He already knows."

"Oh!" Amari was struck by a new idea. "We could even decorate the prisoner with lights for the winter festival. Make his suffering more festive."

Kurenai merely chuckled as she said, "We'll see, little one. We'll see."

"I, for one, adore the suggestion." Atsuko emerged like a feathered ghoul from the shadows on a nearby branch.

Her dark eyes, glinting in grim amusement, watched over the passing shinobi below how a vulture might eye a dying animal.

"Perhaps we could even host a feast. For us Crows, of course. Human flesh is quite the delicacy."

Osamu, like his leader, materialized from the shadows on a branch adjacent to Atsuko. His morbid delight was as clear in his eyes as it was in his voice.

"Indeed it is, Lady Atsuko. Shall I make preparations?" he asked. "It's been too long since we feasted for festivities, as it were. I've even concocted a few recipes."

"How delightful! I prefer my carrion smoked and then seasoned lightly with terror and paprika. A hint of screaming adds flavor."

"That it does, Lady Atsuko. That it does."

"I really can't tell if you guys are serious or not," Naruto commented nervously.

"Oh, Naruto." Amari smiled innocently at her best friend. "Of course we're serious. Feasts, like sweets, aren't something to joke about."

Naruto gulped.

Sensing fun afoot, the Nara girl pretended to ponder deeply. "I can't leave you guys out of the festivities, though. Maybe I'll buy a straw dummy, wrap it up in festival lights and put it in your room while you sleep." She shrugged. "Might be fun."

A short but light and feminine laugh came from the shadows. Whoever the Anbu kunoichi was clearly liked her style.

"It's a real drag to admit it, but I'm just gonna say it now and get it over with," Shikamaru spoke up suddenly. "We're all screwed."

"Hmhmhm!" Atsuko vanished from sight.

"My condolences," Osamu offered before assimilating into the shadows. He almost sounded sincere.

Amari pressed her forehead into her mother's shoulder and giggled. Like an evil witch.

None of her peers were comforted by it.

"Madara and Yua would've loved you, Amaririsu," Mito's cracked skin wrinkled in response to her wide smile. "Yes, I can imagine Madara especially sharpening your sense of humor to torment and frighten Hashirama."

The idea of being trained by her all-powerful great-great grandfather to frighten the First Hokage was possibly the most childish and yet hilarious part of Madara she had ever learned. And she loved it. She loved it so much.

"He wouldn't," she denied, giggling.

"Oh, you underestimate Madara," Mito wagged her finger, smiling nostalgically. "He and Hashirama were brothers in all but blood. They competed furiously with each other over the simplest things. You have not seen depressions like theirs, I tell you. Like lost, sad puppies when they inevitably lost.

"Often, my husband would collapse on a couch, lay his head in my lap and hug his knees like a child as he told me how it all went horribly wrong," she mimicked his sad expression, slouching and lowering her voice for emphasis.

It was clear she was repeating one of his statements. One she had heard many, many times.

It left Amari a giggling mess.

"The lost, sad puppy comparison," Mito straightened her posture, "is Yua's description, in truth. I can only imagine the mood Madara was in to cause it."

Oh, she wished she could've seen it. The all-powerful Madara Uchiha, who's name was synonymous with terror, the legendary shinobi who had successfully assaulted a Hidden Village singlehandedly and made the then current and the future Tsuchikage bow at his feet was responsible for a lost, sad puppy expression. All because he lost a challenge to his friend and rival.

She imagined vividly a waterfall of tears streaming down the face of the First Hokage's stone face and sad pout on her great-great grandfather's statue, then felt her spirit leave her body. It slammed back inside a moment later as she slapped a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles.

"Now," Mito continued when the young girl had recomposed herself, "were you to explain this straw dummy idea to him, at first he might scoff and write it off as childish. But when he would realize—and he would realize this—that he could frighten my husband, who was easy to scare outside of combat, oh, he would see your genius, child. He would grin from ear to ear, as you are now. You would find yourself training to accomplish the task that very moment."

"When you talk about him, Granny Mito, he sounds like a normal guy," Naruto said.

"He was," Mito replied simply. "Our textbooks do not divulge his tragic history in detail. You are taught the Warring States period from a macro perspective. It touches on the few impactful battles that brought the Senju and the Uchiha together at its end, delving intimately into Hashirama's rise to leadership among his Clan, and then to the seat as Hokage.

"Your knowledge of Madara is consolidated to his final, darkest moments. His defeat is laid as the final brick to the Leaf's prosperous future. The righteous hero slays the irredeemable villain, you might say.

"However, the macro perspective misses the humanity and inhumanity of that period of constant war. It does not mention the fear, the confusion, the anxiety or the doubts we children suffered. How we fought and watched other children—friends and siblings of our Clans—die at the hands of cruel adults. It does not mention the mass graves we all stood before, filled with those same friends and siblings thrown together and buried before the next battle could begin.

"It does not suggest Madara was a 'normal guy' as you say. It does not reveal his deep struggles with the deaths of his siblings, his rise to leadership, or the murder which sparked his downfall.

"That is a mistake we made. We were all weary of war. We did not wish to reopen fresh wounds by detailing the harm we caused each other. With the construction of the Leaf, we hoped a summarization of the war would suffice. The war was fresh in the minds of all the children. Detailing its horrors intimately seemed unnecessary.

"Madara was the only one to argue its importance. He said if we did not write its horrors and it's inhumanity the next generation would be doomed to repeat it. Tobirama counseled Hashirama against it for the reasons I mentioned. Hashirama tried to find a middle ground between their ideas, believing both were justified.

"It wasn't until after Madara's and Hashirama's death that their roles in history became that of our villain and hero. Hashirama did not want Madara's defection to be all that was remembered of him, nor would he have wished to be glorified for killing a man he considered a friend and a brother."

"Lord Second saw differently, right?" Amari asked.

"Naturally," Mito nodded once. "It is a subtle slight of the Uchiha Clan. Like a genjutsu that subtly influences the mind, by painting Madara as Hashirama's greatest enemy—whether true or not—he planted a poisonous thought within both the Uchiha Clan and the Leaf. A poison that, sadly, has led to the near total annihilation of your Clan."

"All the more reason we stick to our plan," Sasuke spoke up for the first time. He looked back at Amari with a meaningful expression. "We educate the Clan and the Village on the true history. Eliminate the poison so the body can heal. It's the only way forward."

"Right," Amari nodded.

The truth, as the saying went, would set them all free. And the elimination of the last roots of the poison—the Foundation—would allow the body to finally heal entirely.

Mito eyed the pair curiously. "What plan is this, if I may ask?"

"My advisor is owed the credit for this; it was his idea," Amari began somewhat cheekily. Sasuke snorted, as was her intention. "The only way we can rebuild and reform our Clan so that we can stand on equal ground, the way Lord First and Great-Great Grandfather dreamed, requires us to treat history the way the Fifth Mizukage is treating the Mist's history.

"We have to acknowledge and accept the past failures of our Clan. We are not entirely innocent in this. Whether justified or immoral, my great-great grandfather waged a one-man war against the Stone Village. His actions did play a role in igniting the First Great Ninja War.

"Also, my Clan—even though people Sasuke and I cherished tried to stop it—planned to commit a coup. Again, whether justified or immoral, that is the reality of it."

"Madara was right. We can't hide from the truth," Sasuke added. "Otherwise we'll end up repeating the same mess."

"To avoid that, we need to educate the children of our Clan," Amari continued off his statement. "It is our duty to educate them so they can understand our Clan's history—all of its history. Not just the honor, the pride and the glory, but the sins, the suffering and its downfall. They must be educated of the Curse of Hatred; if they aren't, they'll fall prey to it and never understand why they've lost their way."

Just as she lost herself to it without ever realizing it. Just as Sasuke had lost his way. She couldn't allow the same to happen to the future children of her Clan.

"At the same time, the Leaf's treatment of our Clan must also be acknowledged," she said firmly, even more firmly than she had felt when Sasuke first spoke of the idea.

"Oh?" Mito cocked an eyebrow. "In what way should the Leaf acknowledge it?"

Amari thought of saying a golden statue dedicated in her honor as a joke, but decided against it.

"The same way we are," she replied seriously. "This isn't about weighing our Clan's sins against theirs. It isn't our goal to decide who is the true hero and who is the villain. That won't get us anywhere. And calling either side heroes or villains is a downright treacherous oversimplification that has caused great pains to us, to our families, to our Clan, to allies and friends like you, and the entire Leaf Village since Great-Great Grandma Yua's murder."

"Very true."

"Both sides of the story need to be heard. Our sins and the Leaf's," she said. "By acknowledging our wounds, we can finally heal them and move forward. Eliminate the poison, as Sasuke said, so the body can heal. The poison is this hatred passed on by the Second Hokage that was left to fester. It'll take work. It won't change overnight. But we'll work at it day by day, year by year, mission by mission. It's the only way we'll ever stand on equal ground."

"Mm," Mito hummed in approval. "Tell me, Amaririsu, what future do you envision for the Uchiha Clan?"

Amari didn't answer immediately.

What future did she envision for the Uchiha Clan? She had pondered the question since the unanimous decision to name her Head of the Clan.

Since then she had found a few answers, such as how to rebuild the Clan's numbers and how to preserve the Sharingan by medical means without her or Sasuke needing to become parents as children themselves. She had aligned herself to a few grand goals, such as saving Itachi and Aimi no matter how difficult it was and outlining the truth of the Leaf's and the Uchiha Clan's past sins to tell the full story of how they reached this point in history.

I know what I want to accomplish, Amari thought. Some of it I'm still working out, but I know what I want to do. I know who I want to become. Who I need to become.

Mito didn't appear to be bothered by her lack of immediate answer; she showed patience even lifelong monks would appreciate. Amari appreciated it, too. It gave her time to gather and align her thoughts and feelings.

"I've been very fortunate," she began finally in a soft voice. "I was supposed to die in the Massacre. I wasn't apart of the deal. Yet I'm here. I'm here because of the sacrifices made by people I love. Parents who entrusted their hopes, dreams and love to me. A Big Brother who believed in me, who I'll never be able to hug again. Friends—family—who sacrificed their happiness and future to walk in darkness on our behalf."

"Some might look at your experiences and say you are cursed by tragedy instead," Mito said. "They may see only darkness and despair in your life. Yet despite this grave loss and suffering you claim you are fortunate."

"I am fortunate. I am incredibly fortunate, actually," she repeated sincerely. "I have been blessed to meet people who welcomed me into their homes, into their arms, and into their lives when I was lost and alone.

"I was afraid. And hurt. I had no idea who I was or where I was going. I had nothing but a name and a broken heart.

"But people like my mom saved me. People like Shika and Chōji, Naruto and Iruka-sensei, and a handful of others opened their arms to me at my worst moment. I was balancing on the edge of a steep cliff, ready to fall, and they pulled me into their arms. They held me close until it all stopped hurting so much.

"What future do I envision for the Uchiha Clan? All I want the Uchiha Clan to be is a home anyone can belong to," she declared her intentions. "There are people who are bound by darkness and despair, who are lost on the same edge I was, staring into the void, hoping, wishing for someone—anyone—to reach their hand out."

"I hate him," she recalled Tayuya's spiteful smile. "More than you can ever know."

Amari shut her eyes. Tayuya wanted to be free. She was bound by darkness, stuck in a void, and though she was coarse and spiteful and arrogant, she reached her hand out, hoping, wishing, for someone—her—to take it. To set her free after being experimented on, after being forced to starve and fight and kill to survive for Orochimaru's entertainment.

"His Curse Mark binds me to his Will. Which is fine. You're free. And you're his objective. You can kill him, and then his Will would demand I submit myself to you. That's as close to freedom as I can get."

Freedom? What Tayuya described was far from freedom, but had she not been in such a hurry, had she tried harder to save the Sound kunoichi—the sole member asking for help—she could've helped her be truly free. She could've shown her there was more to life than killing to survive.

"I'll be an instrument of your Will. We can crush the scum of this world and be free together."

She should've tried harder. She should've reached her hand out and taken Tayuya's, not to join Orochimaru, but to pull her off the edge and into her arms, no matter how hard she thrashed and cursed her for doing it.

I didn't, though. And I have to live with that.

"Don't you look at me like that! I'm not just a puppet! Lord Orochimaru carries me in his heart! He loves me!"

She wished it was true. For Kimimaro's sake and no one else's. But it wasn't, no matter how much either of them wished it.

"You seek to be that hand?" Mito asked, breaking her from her dark thoughts.

"Yes," she confirmed, nodding sharply. "I'll reach out to everyone I can. I'm going to blaze a trail straight to the future. I'll burn brighter than the sun so even those lost in total darkness can see my flame."

She couldn't go back and save Tayuya. She couldn't go even further back to save Kimimaro from ever meeting Orochimaru. All she could do was move forward and try harder for the next person.

"I want the Uchiha Clan to be how I see the Leaf: a place where anyone can belong, regardless of prior Nations citizenship or personal history. Where they can find joy and be gifted love, as I was. I want it to reflect the family I lost, and the family I found. Then one day we won't be seen as separate from the Leaf, but another pillar of it."

"I see." Mito digested the information for a moment before speaking again. "Before Yua's murder, my husband and Madara realized their grand dream of peace would be impossible to achieve in the short span of a single lifetime. Even for them.

"They saw their impatience and laughed at how brash and ambitious they were as children. While they vowed their search for an answer was far from over, together they decided to entrust their dream of peace to their children and the children of the Leaf. Their dreams, their Wills, their hopes and love for the Leaf and its people, they are the flames from which the Will of Fire was born."

Mito looked directly at her. "You children are the inheritors of their dream. You especially, Amaririsu. The hopes and love of Madara and Yua are inside of you, I can sense it. You bear the flames of two of my dearest friends, they add their light to yours and make your soul burn as bright as starlight. So do not falter from your path. Blaze your trail, Amaririsu."

The new foundation Amari had begun to build as Clan Head was reinforced by Mito's blessing. She dipped her head once in a confident nod.

"I won't let you down, Lady Mito."

"Of that I have no doubt," Mito smiled warmly.

A little further along the journey home, Naruto felt himself frowning like he was suffering a nasty upset stomach. There were a whole lot of questions he wanted to ask Mito. Nothing was really stopping him, frankly, but…

I don't even know where to start. I don't know how to start.

Mito was a library of information he'd spent his whole life restricted from. He'd been told—taught—to never ask questions. Because it didn't matter, right? His parents were gone. Dead. His life was just the way it was for no particular reason and he just had to get used to it.

Mizuki had thrown a book at him from the same library detailing the decree and the Nine-Tailed Fox, and then just like that, with a snap of someone's fingers, the door slammed shut and he found himself restricted again.

Gaara provided a window into their shared trauma and struggles as jinchūriki, a dark reflection that showed him who he could've become had he ever surrendered to the darkness. Had he never met Amari, the girl who, by Mito's own description, burned bright as starlight in his lonely world.

The Akatsuki Incident and Pervy Sage fed him a little more information, but he never really considered asking anyone again about his parents. He never considered asking for more information about being a jinchūriki, either. Because what did it matter, right? His parents were dead. And people were coming after him for the Nine-Tails power—nothing else mattered.

Kasai lit a fire beneath him and showed him the world through his skewed and, much as he hated to admit it, somewhat accurate analysis of his existence as jinchūriki. The Nine-Tails had hinted and growled about the long history he'd seen and the suffering of his fellow Tailed-Beasts.

But it wasn't until Mito, the library itself, simply kicked his door down and walked into their lives, offering information, knowledge and wisdom without strings attached. Without skirting around the truth as so many had with him and Amari.

She spoke of Amari's great-great grandparents openly. About the Second Hokage and his treachery—why, Second Hokage, why would you do it?

She even spoke of her experiences as jinchūriki and of his mother. She told him the truth, because it did matter. It mattered to him. It mattered for their future. It was important and for that sole reason it needed to be talked about honestly, sincerely, without strings or half-truths.

But where did he start? He hadn't ever had a problem talking or asking questions, dumb or otherwise.

Of course he wanted to know more about his mother. He wanted to know everything about her. But he also needed to ask questions about being a jinchūriki, mainly for any wisdom or advice she might have to keep the raging fur ball in check. Also how to better control its power.

He had to get control of it. Even gaining a fraction of the power Mito showed them would be handy.

Whether either of them liked it or not, they were stuck together for the foreseeable future. The Akatsuki wanted nothing more than to yank the Nine-Tails out of him for some nefarious purpose, and he'd probably hate whatever cage they had planned for him worse than the dank sewer he was already living in.

It'd be even more handy if the Nine-Tails wasn't trying to take over or escape his body. Even a knucklehead like him could see they were better off fighting together against the Akatsuki. The enemy of my enemy and all.

Yeah, he thought bitterly. Like you'll ever agree to that.

The Nine-Tails said nothing. There hadn't been a peep from the Demon Fox, not a swishing tail or an angry growl or a snarky comment about how weak he was, not since Mito sealed his chakra.

Naruto didn't bother to try to engage. They'd said enough. For now.

I just gotta ask. That's it. Just start somewhere before we make it home. 'Cause I don't know if she's gonna be around when I wake up tomorrow. This may be my only chance.

He was a little bit anxious. A little bit afraid to learn more of a parent who he would never know personally, he could admit that.

Just knowing she loved him was like taking a warm blanket out of the dryer on a cold day, and then as you were hugging it against your body, savoring the soothing warmth it provided, some jerk appeared out of nowhere and dumped an ice bucket over your head.

There was happiness, joy, love—love he'd always wanted to know—that massaged away old aches and pains. And then there was the ice bucket that tried to wash it all away in sorrow and hurt. Because she wasn't here anymore.

I wonder… Naruto glanced to Amari and Sasuke. Is this how you two feel? Does it hurt this much? More?

All the same, he finally finished juggling his burning thoughts and grasped the easiest and hardest of questions tightly. Even if it stung a little.

"Hey, Granny Mito? What was my mother like?"

"Truthfully, I can only tell you of how she was as a child. I did not live to see her grow into a woman. You will need to ask Tsuna for more of who your mother became; I am certain she can tell you more, or direct you to shinobi who did know her later in life."

"That's fine." And it was. He was stronger now, and he wouldn't let people tell him it didn't matter anymore. "I wouldn't mind hearing what she was like as a kid. Am I anything like her?"

"Kushina was a good child," Mito answered. "Headstrong. Stubborn. Impulsive. Had a foul temper when pushed."

"So exactly like Naruto," Iruka quipped dryly.

"Hey. Not cool, Iruka-sensei," Naruto whined.

"Kushina hid her fear and her insecurities behind a brave face," Mito continued after a hearty chuckle. "It was a stressful time for her. She was a foreigner to the Leaf."

"A foreigner?"

"Yes," Mito nodded. "She hailed from the Land of Whirlpools and the Hidden Eddy Village—the Uzumaki Clan's home. Within the Leaf, all she had known was now far away. Even though it was a hard life of war at that time, the familiar, no matter how difficult it is, is easier to handle than the unknown."

"I bet it was tough," he said. "I can't imagine how it would be to suddenly be a foreigner in a new Land."

"Haven't you experienced that already?" Ino asked. "You've been a foreigner every time you've gone to another Nation on a mission. Like that time you went to the Land of Snow. Or when Amari went to another world."

"Another world?" Mito repeated, tilting her head curiously.

Amari, who had been half-listening and half-dozing on her mother's shoulder, hummed a short laugh. "Long story, Lady Mito. Simply put: the multiverse is real. Other worlds different from ours exist, and I have to assume alternate realities do as well. Met some Quirky kids, you might say."

Shikamaru snorted. "That was bad, 'Risu."

"Yukiko would've thought so, too," she hummed softly, warmly. "But she would've laughed and called me corny."

Ever since they learned of her trip, besides feeling like it would melt his brain if he thought too hard about it, Naruto felt a little sad whenever that girl Yukiko Igarashi came up. He was pretty sure they all felt it.

He could see it in Shikamaru's imperceptible wince. In Sakura's flattened lips. Chōji's uncomfortable expression and Sasuke's light and noiseless sigh. Even Ino, for all her jealousy and banter over finding love and all that stuff, lowered her eyes and silently kicked herself for bringing it up.

They could hear it, too. For all the love and warmth Amari spoke with when Yukiko Igarashi came up, there was also so much pain and sadness. And longing.

It hurt to hear it.

The only one who didn't seem disheartened by the subject was Kurenai. Unlike them, though, she understood the feelings her daughter was experiencing. She understood love better than they did and that, though there was pain and longing and sadness, there were no regrets because the happiness and joy they'd captured outweighed it all.

Had anyone asked Amari at that moment, or Yukiko Igarashi in her world, why they didn't regret it, why they were willing to bear the same pain and longing, they would've said the same thing:

She was worth it.

They didn't ask, though. Naruto didn't know how to ask something like that; it felt too intrusive and uncomfortable. So he tried to steer the conversation away from it as quickly and seamlessly as he could.

"Sure, I mean, we've gone to other places for missions, but we've never had to stay and live in those places." Perfectly seamless. "We didn't have to start over and make new friends or make the place feel like home, you know?"

"You know, hm?" Mito chuckled.

"What?" Naruto was certain he was missing something. "What's so funny about that?"

"Your mother had the same verbal tic. Whenever she was flustered or excited she would say 'you know.' Seems you inherited it."

"Looks like its hereditary," Amari teased.

"Guess so," Naruto chuckled.

He was happy for it. But he still had questions.

"Why did my mom come to the Leaf? I mean, she had a home, right?"

"She did."

"So why leave it behind for somewhere else entirely?"

"It was not her choice," Mito answered honestly.

"Wait, really? How come?"

"It was a decision made by the Elders of our Clan and the Leaf. They did not tell her the reason for it. As such a young child, Kushina merely had to accept the decision."

"That seems kind of strange to me."

"Generally speaking, it was not out of the norm; the Uzumaki and Senju have always possessed strong ties. The symbol of that bond lives on today in the emblem of a whirlpool on every Leaf shinobi flak jacket."

"So that's what it's for," Shikamaru muttered.

"You are right to suspect less noble intentions, however. From Kushina's perspective, those ties had given her an opportunity to escape the war and find a new home inside of the Leaf. She was anxious and afraid, but she was determined to make the Leaf her home. And to become the first woman to attain the title of Hokage."

"Just like me," he said happily.

"I didn't realize you were determined to become the first woman to be Hokage, Naruto," Sakura teased.

"Lady Tsunade beat him to the punch," Ino joined in.

"Oh, ha ha. Very funny," he groused. "You know what I meant."

"Their less than noble intentions," Amari was more awake and looking at Mito, "revolved around picking the next jinchūriki. Naruto's mom in this case."

"Precisely." Mito gave a mild nod, resting her arms over her belly and concealing her hands in her kimono's sleeves. "To Seal a Tailed-Beast inside a human is no simple task. They are creatures of inexplicable power, capable of destruction the likes of which you children are blessed not to have witnessed. And they do not wish to be Sealed inside of us anymore than we wish to be their containers."

He sensed the Nine-Tails dismissing snort.

Mito went on to explain how jinchūriki were chosen based on compatibility. The chance of the Tailed-Beast escaping was, unfortunately, high if the Seal was too weak or if the shinobi containing them lost utter control. Or simply gave themselves to the Tailed-Beast.

"When the first jinchūrikis were made in my era, every so often we would hear news of the other Tailed-Beasts escaping to go on rampages," she explained. "The stigma of being jinchūriki rapidly found itself tied to those rampages. We became ostracized, hated, feared, as you understand, Naruto."

Yeah. He understood it now. He hadn't before. But now he knew the cause, and where it all began.

"What people did not realize was by ostracizing their jinchūriki, by isolating them, hating them, they crafted an environment from which fear and anger could grow like mold within our souls.

"They filled their vessels with negative emotions, and as a result jinchūriki who may have successfully contained their Tailed-Beasts died. Or they decided their sacrifice was not worth it for a Village that ostracized them. I cannot say what truly befell them. Only the feelings I experienced in my long life as a jinchūriki."

So, he thought, even someone as wise and as powerful as you, Granny Mito, wondered what the point of existing was. You wondered what the point of your suffering was when you were all alone, locked in a ivory cage by your brother-in-law. Just like me and Gaara. And Haku and Hikari. And Amari.

No one was safe from those thoughts, it seemed, no matter how powerful they were.

As for his mother, she was a perfect candidate to take Mito's place. She possessed special chakra which would allow her to become the second jinchūriki of the Nine-Tailed Fox.

They reasoned she had a high probability of successfully containing it, even as a child, and so brought her away from her home to bear the burden. She already faced anxiety and fear as a foreigner. Apparently she even experienced bullying for her appearance, specifically the red hair that the Uzumaki Clan was known for.

Naruto was a bit bummed out to hear he missed out on having red hair, and very frustrated that they ripped his mother from her home to become a jinchūriki.

"It just doesn't sit right with me," he said when Mito paused. "I mean, they took her away from her home without telling her why, and then they forced her to become a jinchūriki. It's not like they gave her a choice to say, 'hey, wait a minute, I don't want to do this.' They just forced her to take the role without considering her feelings or what her life would be like."

"True. But were compatible shinobi given a choice, there would be no jinchūriki in existence."

"Then maybe the practice should just stop altogether," said Naruto. "It's not like they want us around anyway. Most people would be happy if we didn't exist to begin with."

"Naruto…"

"It's true, Iruka-sensei, and you know it. Look at how Gaara was treated. He was full of so much hatred and darkness because of how his Village treated him. Hikari was the only one who ever treated him like a human being, and they found a way to make him sever their bond. They made him abandon her to become a heartless weapon."

He buried his fingers into the flak jacket of his Academy teacher.

"The worst part about it? I get it. I understand exactly how he felt. Because I teetered on that edge Amari talked about. I hated the Villagers, because they hated me and I didn't know why. And now that I do… It doesn't make it better. I never asked for this. Just like my mom never asked for it. Yet we're hated and feared like we're somehow responsible for the damage caused by the Nine-Tailed Fox. For a long time it was like I didn't even exist.

"Who might've I become if it wasn't for Amari? If it wasn't for you and her opening your arms to me? Or if guys like Shikamaru and Chōji and Kiba didn't always include me in their games? I know the answer, because I've seen it now. Just like Amari saw it in Haku. One life-changing moment was all that separated me and Gaara. It came down to who reached their hands out to us, or who took away all those hands.

"So why?" he asked, desperate for an answer. "Why do they bother to keep forcing kids like us to become jinchūriki if they hate us so much? Why not just let the Tailed-Beasts go wherever they want and never bother them again?"

"Because a jinchūriki represents power. Isn't that right, Lady Mito?" Amari asked.

"It is," Mito acknowledged the truth.

He'd known in his heart that was the answer. Hearing it, though, just made him hate the whole situation even more.

"And though the Nations may dislike or even wish jinchūriki did not exist, if they simply gave up their jinchūriki they would be losing a powerful weapon. They fear it will disrupt the current balance of power," Amari dissected the situation with a hint of annoyance in her voice. She didn't like it anymore than he did.

"They're afraid it will lead to their destruction," she said. "So they keep forcing this burden onto every new generation. Because no one trusts each other to simultaneously relinquish this power or never seek again."

"It's the threat of mutual guaranteed destruction," Shikamaru stated it plainly. "Now I could be wrong, but it sounds like the whole point of the jinchūriki system was to stop wars altogether. If every Nation realizes the other can retaliate in the same destruction fashion, war, in theory, should no longer be an option."

"That was precisely Hashirama's hope," Mito said. "He believed those who bore the burden of jinchūriki should be hailed as heroes. We were sacrificing ourselves for the well-being of our Nations and peace; the act of self-sacrifice, in his mind, should be honored and respected by all people, whether shinobi or civilian."

"It's a shame it didn't pan out that way," Shikamaru said.

"I agree."

"Yeah," Chōji agreed as he munched on chips. "Doesn't seem like the balance of power thing really plays a role either. Think about it. As far as we know, there are at least nine tailed-beasts, right? And there are Five Great Nations. You can't really split nine among five evenly. It'd be like trying to split nine pieces of barbecue between five people. Someone is always going to have one more or one less, or someone will hog more pieces and leave scraps for the others."

"Like you, you mean," Ino scoffed.

"You're the one always worried about your weight. I'm just helping out!" he declared proudly while taking another handful of chips into his mouth.

"Oh brother," the kunoichi sighed.

"Anyway," Chōji spoke while eating, "there's all the smaller Nations to think about, too. They're left without jinchūriki, which means they have to play nice with whichever Great Nation they're near. Or gain enough power and fear, like the Hidden Rain Village, that everyone leaves them alone. The balance of power is like a set of teeter-totters; everyone wants to ride them but no one wants to work together with a stranger on the other end."

"You've got a point. The whole thing is a drag."

"Everything is a drag to you, lazy bones."

"You can't honestly say this isn't a big drag, 'Risu."

"Oh, it is. It's a big, horrible drag. But that just means it's up to us to help Naruto and Gaara unravel it."

"I had a feeling you were going to say that," Shikamaru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know everything being said is pretty much classified information. The Uchiha Clan, 'Risu's ancestors, Naruto's mom and all this stuff about jinchūriki's is way above our rank. We'll be politely told not to speak of it as soon as we get back to the Leaf, I just know it."

"As perceptive as always," Kurenai said, smiling. She dispensed with the smile quickly. "The situation has brought to light information many of you wouldn't have otherwise heard until it was appropriate. Do not take it lightly. Do not abuse our trust. Any talk of this conversation and the information you've learned is not to be spoken of carelessly. Am I understood?"

There was a unanimous agreement.

"The whole jinchūriki situation is a drag, but, honestly, I feel the same way as 'Risu." The Nara boy glanced over his shoulder to look at Naruto. "Don't know if it means much, but we've got your back."

It meant a lot. He couldn't say that without embarrassing himself, though. It'd been hard enough to admit to Amari he was happy to have her in his life. Getting soft and mushy with another guy was just…weird.

"Thanks," he said instead. Then he looked to Mito. "You said my mom had special chakra that made her compatible. Do I have the same chakra?"

"You do. You possess the necessary chakra to even perform the Adamantine Sealing Chains of the Uzumaki Clan."

"Wait, seriously? I can use those awesome chains, too?"

"You can," Mito seemed amused by his excitement. "However, I must warn you it is not an easy technique to master. It will require patience and practice."

"Learning a difficult jutsu is right up my alley," Naruto grinned. "Just point me in the right direction and I'll figure it out eventually."

"I'd expect nothing less from Kushina's child." Mito smiled. "Before we discuss the basic fundamentals of the technique there is something I want you to understand. About this world. About people. And about being a jinchūriki."

"What's that?"

"Our good intentions—Hashirama and I—and hopes for the role of a jinchūriki did not come to pass. What should be a role honored and respected for the sacrifice we've forced children like you to make is now a burden which requires each of the nine jinchūriki to bear the distrust, fear and hate of this world.

"Inside and outside of the Leaf you will find those who will refuse to acknowledge you as human. There will always be those who see the Nine-Tailed Fox. There will always be those who hate and fear because they do not understand, or do not wish to understand, or believe you are an abomination for merely existing. Their minds may never change. That is the harsh truth.

"Amaririsu and Sasuke bear a similar burden. They face hate and fear merely for the Clan they were born into and the kekkei genkai they wield. Our Clan also faced similar fear, and for that fear our entire Village was destroyed."

"What?" Naruto gasped.

"It is true. Before my final day my heart was broken by the news the Hidden Eddy Village and the Land of Whirlpools was destroyed. Our techniques are non-transferrable, as the Sharingan is. So what cannot be transferred or learned without the proper knowledge was promptly and callously destroyed.

"Not all of our Clan perished in the destruction. They were scattered to the wind. There may yet be survivors beyond the Land of Fire who sought refuge in other Nations and have hidden their true identities because our Sealing Jutsus and unique abilities led to our Village's total annihilation."

Mito's dark eyes felt like they were staring into his soul.

"Bloodshed, rivalries, vendettas, greed, they have never and will never disappear simply because we wish it. They persist in our culture, at times they are promoted by it, and it will continue to persist like a hungry animal fed scraps every night, returning again and again and again until we stop feeding it.

"However, do not lose heart. The systems we—the generation before you—put into place weren't meant to be held sacred. They were experimental, a search for an answer to the peace so many of us never found, an attempt to create a home—a place—where we could all laugh and smile together without the hatred we were taught.

"We did not have answers. We had questions, and many of those questions went unanswered. Many remain unanswered, no matter what your Elders or traditionalists may think."

"What do you think the answer to peace is, Granny Mito?"

"I do not know," Mito admitted. "It is not for me to decide any longer, either. I am dead. In your search, however, you may find there are many answers. You may find that there is no right answer or perfect answer. Still, you must search. If there is an answer to peace, if there is to ever be an end to war or the pain of jinchūriki, you must search."

"We will. All of us," he declared confidently. Without hesitation. Just like that time…

"I wish this world was different, Naruto."

"Then let's change it."

Maybe it would be difficult. Maybe even impossible. But that was fine. They would roll the dice anyways and change the world as they pushed towards the future.

We'll search for an answer, he thought. And then maybe… you and I, Nine-Tails…

He wouldn't know if he never tried.

Atop the roof of the Academy, beneath the Great Stone Faces of Hokage Mountain, the winter night sky proudly displayed the vast collection of twinkling stars across its whole canvas, like hundreds of thousands tiny souls shimmering and resonating together, coming to life once more to look on at the world below them.

There was not a single wisp of a cloud to obscure the sight. Not even the limited artificial light glowing across the Leaf Village interfered.

Soon, Mito observed the sky, the waning crescent moon would no longer glow, shifting into its new moon phase where it could slumber for a time. Before its rebirth. Before it began its cyclical stages of life, growing once more from a sliver of reflected light, to a full moon, and eventually becoming a new moon once more.

Lowering her gaze, Mito stared out at the Leaf Village that had grown in the decades since her departure.

Street lights and lanterns below glowed like bright fireflies to her old eyes. Though the streets were quiet at this distance and elevation, she saw the Villagers—old and young—walking to and from restaurants, into taverns, or on their journeys home before the curfew began, bundled up beneath sweaters, coats and winter shawls.

She sensed the shinobi among them, off-duty and otherwise. She saw the scars of destruction and the signs of rebuilding which, much like the crack through Hiruzen's stone face, would remain for some time.

Yet the Leaf Village, her home, Hashirama's and Madara's creation, was intact. Its spirit was strong, and its next generation full of bright young minds and passionate hearts. Like Amaririsu. Like Naruto.

For all that was horrible and cruel in this experience, Mito thought, meeting you children, speaking to you, was a pleasant surprise I never expected to have. I wish you luck on your journeys. Take care of one another.

Mito shut her eyes and smiled. She could feel it coming—her departure. If the soul was light and the body a shell which held it inside, then the shell was cracking, the crystalline light streaming out and shimmering like light reflected through a diamond.

It had started upon seeing and speaking to her granddaughter. She nearly felt herself drift then, nearly let all the light spill out of her to return to where she belonged.

The yearning to speak to and teach Naruto and Amaririsu kept her grounded. It kept the light inside, beneath the cracked flesh that was not truly her own.

For them she remained as a being neither living nor dead. For them she remained in this putrid cage she loathed for its grotesque violation of her soul.

In speaking to them, their spirits and Wills made her feel as though she was rapidly splitting apart. She held in as much of the light as she could, as though keeping pressure on a wound to stop a friend from bleeding out.

The time had come, though. Seeing the Leaf Village intact and blossoming, walking through its lamplit streets for the first time in years without a cage to return to, and now standing here below the mountain where she and Hashirama once expressed their love to one another…

I think I'm ready now.

"Grandmother!"

In all her time Reanimated she had felt nothing of her age, and she was far older than she appeared. Far, far older. Those of the Uzumaki Clan, as it was no longer widely known, possessed a powerful life-force and long life span, aging slower than the average human.

When Mito opened her eyes, she felt her age. She turned around laboriously to see her granddaughter staring at her wide eyed, bearing the Scroll of Seals beneath her arm.

"Tsuna," Mito smiled at her granddaughter.

She looked down at her old hands and how the shell of the Reanimation Jutsu was cracking, just as she envisioned it. Her body became coated in ethereal gold light that, after looking up, she noticed shot into the heavens.

"As you can see, the Scroll will be unnecessary."

Her granddaughter was at her side quickly. Or perhaps her old eyes made her seem quicker and more agile than before.

"What's happening?"

"Tobirama's jutsu possesses one other flaw," she explained patiently. A flaw she could not exploit while her soul was so heavily weighed by regrets. "If the soul that is bound is granted peace of mind, the Reanimation Jutsu will be broken and the soul will return on its own to the beyond. All of you have granted me that peace. Naruto, Amaririsu, and you, of course. I am happy I could see you again, Tsuna."

"Grandmother…"

There was a part of Tsuna, she sensed, that wished to ask her to stay longer. She wished to ask for aid and guidance through the coming trials they were set to face. She wished to ask if they could rely on her power to fight the battles ahead.

Her granddaughter did not give voice to those wishes, though. She did not ask selfishly for her to stay, or force her to remain in this cage against her Will. She was not Tobirama.

"For most of my life you were trapped in a cage," said her granddaughter instead, lowering her voice. "But…all of that is over, Grandmother. You're free now. No more cages. No more wars. No more sacrifices for this world or the Village."

Her granddaughter set the scroll down, took her hands into her own gently and looked her in the eyes, tears glistening and reflecting the ethereal glow, making her brown eyes appear like golden halos.

"Go. Find the peace this life didn't grant you. I'll take care of everything, I promise. And when you see Nawaki," her voice broke and shuddered, "hold him tight for me."

"I will." With a weak and withered grip she squeezed her granddaughter's hands warmly. "Thank you for setting me free."

"I'm sorry I couldn't while you were alive."

"It was not in your power to free me then, so do not burden yourself with needless guilt. You have freed me now. That is all that matters."

She couldn't hold on much longer. All of her senses were dulling, dimming, slipping through her fingers with every passing second.

"I said it as often as I was able when I was alive," Mito began, "but it remains as true now as it was then, my little Princess: I love you, dearly." She let go of her granddaughter's hands, smiling. "I will be waiting for you when your journey reaches its end. Until then, live well. Protect the children of the Leaf; they will change what we could not."

"I will," Tsunade promised.

"Farewell."

"Goodbye, Grandmother. I love you."

As if the words set her free, the shell which had taken the form of Mito Uzumaki crumbled into ash and dust.

Yet Mito's senses did not fully leave her. She watched the body crumble from above, floating upwards slowly within the sheathe of golden light, conscious of the experience as her ethereal body ascended.

She watched her granddaughter stare up at her, the unshed tears in her eyes, and offered one last reassuring smile to her precious Princess.

Take care, Tsuna. I love you. I am proud of you.

As she ascended higher she looked out at the Village one last time. Far in the distance she saw a group of fourteen children gathered on a rooftop. Among them were Naruto and Amaririsu, joined by their peers to see her off.

Naruto was waving both of his arms above his head and speaking, though she couldn't hear him ramble for all the things he was thankful for. Amaririsu waved and offered similar gratitude she couldn't hear, but she felt it all the same in their chakra.

Mito waved back.

From behind the walls of a cage the world never seems to change, but from up here… Yes, I see it now. The trees are growing and the flowers are blossoming.

What a beautiful world it is. What a gift life is.

Mito shut her eyes for the final time, allowing the light to take her into its embrace.

If only someone would've told us that as children. I wonder where we would be.

From the realm of the living Mito Uzumaki vanished as the light ascending to the heavens vanished.

A new star appeared to join the rich canvas of shimmering light.

The light peeled back.

Mito stepped from it into a familiar place, feeling blades of grass beneath the soles of her bare feet. Her hair was as red as it was in her prime, her features no longer old or wrinkled, her bones no longer sore or tired.

The air smelled of fresh spring flowers, birds flew freely over the blue sky, and ahead a magnificent green land of endless possibility.

And peace.

"Grandmother, over here!" a young, brown-haired boy waved from a short, nearby hill.

Smiling warmly, she walked unburdened towards her grandson.

She was finally free.

The light ascending to the heavens, opening a gateway between their mortal realm and what awaited them beyond it, vanished as though a door was slowly shut.

Nothing of Mito remained behind, nothing except her love and her Will, perhaps, nor could she be seen from the Academy roof any longer.

Twinkling stars and a waning crescent moon were the only lights left in the heavens, and below, on the earth, the street lamps and lanterns glowed like dozens of tiny fireflies.

All the same, Tsunade stared up at the heavens, watching the stars twinkle and glimmer against the dark canvas, twinkling and glimmering like the tears in her eyes.

I'll meet you there someday, Grandmother. You, Nawaki and Dan. Until then, I'll protect what you all held precious. I'll do what I can to help this new generation to find a path through the coming war to the peace we all seek.

I promise.

Tsunade shut her eyes, took a moment to compose herself, then lowered her gaze to the place her grandmother once stood.

Laying there inside a mound of ash and dust, half covered by the debris of the undone Reanimation Jutsu, was the pale, horrified and dead face of Aoi Rokushō, eyes rolled back in his skull and mouth hung agape.

Her nose scrunched.

One hell of a way to go. I guess it's true what they say.

You reap what you sow.

Gathered together on a rooftop inside the Leaf Village, Amari and the members of Team Seven, Team Eight, Team Ten and Team Guy watched the light of Mito Uzumaki's soul fade from the sky.

"We'll see you again someday, Granny Mito!" Naruto declared, waving his arms above his head.

Amari lowered her hand and placed it on her hip. "Let's make sure its a long time before we do. Even if it's a drag, we've got plenty more to do before we all follow after her."

"Yeah," Naruto agreed, lowering his arms. "We've got a future to build. It's up to us to keep searching for the answers."

"We will. We're the inheritors of a dream."

And they wouldn't let it be turned into a nightmare.

Ascending the stairs onto his porch, Shikaku rubbed the back of his neck in sheer exhaustion. It'd been a long evening. He couldn't wait to sit down. Or, better, lay down and rest.

For now, his work was done. The incident was contained, the prisoners either eliminated or captured, and the man behind it all in the capable and meticulous hands of the Torture and Interrogation Unit.

Whether or not Mizuki had inside help would come to light in time. Could be sooner, could be later. Either way, answers wouldn't come tonight.

Ibiki was far too thorough for that.

After the hasty mistakes that led to this whole incident he was certain the Head of Torture and Interrogation had a very long talk planned for Mizuki.

Additionally, there was the Intel the Fifth Hokage, the Crows and those at the center of the fight against Mito Uzumaki and Mizuki to compile; it would be useful in helping them see the whole picture rather than just the edges.

He would need to think about the Nara Clan's Secret Research Facility; it was, perhaps, time to relocate to a new remote area. He couldn't risk the Foundation or Orochimaru moving against it again.

As for the potion and the Curse Mark, they needed to compile all the data they could on its effects and see if they could find a means to reverse its damage. Mizuki might still have use to them in that respect.

If Orochimaru ever grows bold enough to poison a town's water supply with one of his concoctions…

It'd be bad. Real bad. Especially if they couldn't reverse its effects.

There was plenty of work to do. Plenty more when it came to preparing for the war.

Shikaku entered his home with a tired, "I'm home," and shut the door behind him.

When he heard his wife speaking to someone inside their living area, he wasn't surprised or startled. He had expected it—planned for it since he first decided to call upon her to handle Mizuki.

After removing his sandals, he entered the living area to the sight of a familiar face, dressed in casual attire for the season. Her dark eyes fell on him, and he witnessed the same grief, anger and joy he knew well.

"It's been some time, Yūgao," he greeted.

"Commander," she replied, dipping her chin in a cordial if not stiff greeting.

"Don't call me that here," he waved off the title casually. "It'd just be troublesome."

He waited a beat to see if there was anything she wanted to get off her chest immediately. An angry accusation, maybe. A solemn memory of a time when 'Yako was still in their lives. A quiet but joyful comment about a certain troublesome niece of his.

She sat almost without breathing, staring at him for a long moment. Finally…

"She's alive."

"She is," he nodded. "Haya Uchiha is Amaririsu Yūhi. She is 'Yako's little shadow. Of that there is absolutely no doubt."

The confirmation broke the stiff posture. It made Miyako's little doe slouch slightly as if a weighted scarf was wrapped over her shoulders. She buried her fingers into the fabric of her pants, clenching them into white-knuckle fists. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

"Breathe it in," he told her—commanded despite asking her to drop the title. "Feel it in every fiber of your being. And let it out, Yūgao. The pain, the anger, the suffering, the fears, and the sorrow. Let it all out. And revel in the joy. Haya is with us. She is alive."

His command was heeded. It gave her the nudge she needed to finally feel all the emotions she kept sheathed while wearing her mask.

Yūgao bent forward and buried her face into her hands, bracing her elbows on her knees. Her breaths shuddered first. He saw her body begin to tremble and convulse as she openly wept and sobbed in loss she hadn't fully accepted, in grief she hadn't fully conquered, in hurt that she had numbed to survive, and joy she forgot the feeling of.

Yoshino scooted closer to gently rub circles over her back. Shikaku calmly and quietly moved through his home to acquire tissues for 'Yako's student.

There was plenty for them to discuss. Plenty of information Yūgao would need to navigate the mission she would inevitably ask him for.

For now, though, the Anbu agent needed to be pushed aside so the woman—the young girl who lost all those she loved—could feel this. Just as he had needed to feel it. Just as Yoshino had needed to feel it.

It would make her stronger, more determined, and free her of the dark cloud that had buried her since Hayate's death, and in that freedom she would feel joy once more.

For Haya was alive. And they were going to protect her.

At the edge of a pier, where the waves sloshed gently against the secured ships tied at mooring bollards, rocking them as though they were a baby's bassinet, Chōjūrō nervously rubbed his fingernail plates against one another as he looked out beyond the white puffs of condensation he exhaled, beyond the ships and the pier, beyond the shadowy silhouettes of mountainous islands that appeared to his eyes as the earth's spines.

He looked beyond it all to the endless horizon of sea that seemed to have no end or beginning, to the sea glistening beneath the pale moonlight of a waning crescent moon, to the canvas of twinkling stars it reflected, making it so he could step out onto the water, reach out and hold the celestial bodies in his cold hands.

Inhaling the bitter winter air and the distinct scent of the sea, Chōjūrō continued to rub the plates of his fingernails together in front of his chest.

The weather has finally let up, he thought. For three days now we've had to postpone our mission due to the storms. The sleet and the wind was the worst of it. It was almost as cold as Haku's Ice Style that day.

He shut his eyes and rubbed more nervously.

He could still feel that avalanche in his bones, in his chest, and the anxiety he was prone to caused his heart to beat a little faster despite knowing he was safe. Yet, he could still hear it roaring down the mountain, chasing him as he tried desperately to reach safety from the disaster he started and save the child of the Flower Shops.

Mika.

His leap into the trees, the branch breaking beneath his weight and the cloud of white that was consuming his vision was still vivid in his memories. Nearly as vivid as the shock and happiness to see Haku grabbing hold of him from his mirror, and the embarrassment at Natsumi's harmless scolding for bringing the mountain down on them.

The cold he felt when Haku unleashed his kekkei genkai to protect them, it was the coldest he'd ever been. After seventeen winters, including training and missions in bitter snow and treks into mountains during the worst of winter, none of it matched the freezing temperatures of the famed Ice Style of the Yuki Clan.

He shivered; just the memory of it seemed to lower his core temperature.

At least the storms have finally passed, he thought, opening his eyes and looking out at the horizon again. Now we can fulfill the mission Lady Mei gave us… Right. We can do this. He rubbed his nail plates a little quicker. Or, I hope we can. With luck we won't even have to battle anyone. Our words may be enough this time. But if they aren't…

"You're nervous."

Chōjūrō sucked in a breath. He half-turned to see Haruhi standing a few feet away beneath a white cloak, orange eyes studying him and his mannerisms.

"Huh?" he replied dumbly.

"Whenever you get nervous you rub your nail plates together."

He paused, looking down at his hands as if suddenly realizing he had them.

"I guess I do."

"Something is worrying you. Does the sea frighten you?"

"N- no. Nothing like that." He looked back out at the horizon, and felt himself resume slowly rubbing his nail plates together. "I was…thinking about our mission. There's a chance we won't encounter any combat at all. There's a chance we can complete Lady Mei's wishes without any violence. I hope we can. I hope the rumors we've heard are exaggerated.

"But, if words fail, we'll face a shinobi who presents the same—if not greater—danger as Sōma. We'll be facing one of the remaining Swordsmans of the Mist."

He shut his eyes. "Each of the Seven Mystical Swords wield amazing powers. His can devastate the entire landscape before we have a chance to get close enough to deal a mortal blow.

"And the damage incurred won't be here in the Land of Water. We'll be in a foreign nation, in secret."

What if he caused another avalanche and wiped out a innocent town? What if their target laid waste to a town because of their battle?

"It's important for this mission to succeed," he said, clutching his hands into fists in front of his chest. "If we can bring him back we'll gain another powerful ally. If we can't, if the rumors are true, then it's up to us to stop a rogue shinobi and recover his Mystical Sword. That's our mission. I know we can do this!" He slumped, feeling a wave of anxiety and doubt crash against him. "But what if I do something that hurts the Mist? What if I somehow ruin Lady Mei's reputation?"

"You won't hurt the Mist or Lady Mei's reputation," Haruhi stated simply. "It is a meritless concern. She chose us for this mission. We will not fail her."

"You're not the least bit worried, are you?" Chōjūrō asked, chuckling bashfully.

"No. I trust in my abilities. And yours," she replied without blinking. "No matter what we face, whether peaceful dialogues or harsh combat, we will complete our mission."

"Ri- right!" he nodded.

Haruhi's unwavering confidence was always appreciated.

"The captain said the ship is ready. Shall we go?"

"Yes. Let's go."

It was a long trip to the Land of Fire, and a longer trek through the Nation to the Land of Rivers, but the weather was finally clear.

On the ship, as the watery canvas of stars split beneath the bow, after sending Haruhi below deck to rest while taking first watch—their waters were notorious for pirates still, unfortunately—Chōjūrō saw a shooting star trail across the sky.

Please, he wished, let something good come from this mission.

He hoped Master Raiga would listen to reason.

A/N: Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed this latest update and the finale of the arc, as well as a preview at where we will be heading next. I will be gone throughout January, which I am sorry for, but I will be returning on Friday February 4th.

I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas or holidays, or if you don't celebrate anything in particular then I hope you have wonderful day and a Happy New Year. Remember to hug your loved ones tightly and tell them how much you love them, even if it's embarrassing. Or, perhaps, especially if it's embarrassing for them to torment your child/sibling/parent/relative/spouse/significant other. It's good for them. They need it.

If I could draw I would've made an image of Amari and the gang all dressed up for the occasion, but I suppose the most I can do is this short little thing. A little, cute gift for you and a thank you for getting this story above one thousand favorites and follows. Rockstars, the lot of you.

Thank you for reading and see you in February!

"Shika. Hey, Shika. Wake up. This is an emergency. I need your help."

Shikamaru groaned and squeezed his eyes shut tighter despite the incessant tapping. He didn't need to open them to know it was still pitch black. He also didn't want to know what kind of emergency would drag his cousin to his house this late at night.

"'Risu, go home. Go to bed," he muttered into his pillow.

"It's an emergency, Shika."

"Then tell the Hokage."

"She gave us this mission."

"Ugh."

"On your feet, Slacker. Don't make me drag you out."

"Ughhhh."

Mimi was involved, too. That could only mean this was going to be a big stinkin' drag.

Shikamaru flopped onto his back and blinked to clear his vision. Then stared at the two kunoichi's standing in his room.

"What on earth are you two wearing?" he asked through a yawn.

Mimi, standing with a hand on her hip, had on one of those red Santa hats, except instead of just a white snowball on its tail there was a fabric mistletoe on it, too. Funnily enough, the word Naughty was written in red cursive on the front of the white cotton around her head. Aoko peeked her dark head out of her sweater.

'Risu had a similar hat on except it had the word Nice written on it. And it was at least one size too big for her head; she kept having to readjust it. His question was really for his cousin, though, because she wore a red jacket that matched her hat, both in color and being way too large for his smaller cousin. She looked like a seven year old inside of it.

No way in hell he was telling her that, though. He wasn't stupid.

"Put this on," Mimi, grinning, tossed a red hat into his face. Literally. "Get dressed in something warm. We've got a long night ahead of us."

Sighing, not bothering to argue when he knew it was futile, Shikamaru put on the stupid hat and slipped out of the bed.

"What the hell is going on?" He stifled a yawn behind his hand. "And you still haven't answered my question. Why are you dressed like that, 'Risu."

"We have an important mission, Shika. It's vital."

"Uh-huh. What is it?" He paused. He heard hooves stomping outside his window. Walking over to it, he pulled the curtain back and felt his eyes go wide. "'Risu, why the hell are there reindeer and a sleigh outside?"

"They're apart of our mission."

"What mission?" he asked more seriously, turning around.

Mimi was grinning at his expense. 'Risu was all serious like they were going to war.

"We have to save Christmas, Shika."

"You've gotta be kidding," he gaped.

How did he always get dragged into these messes?

"Nope. The Old Hag knocked Santa's lights out; thought he was an assassin of the Foundation, apparently. She's tending to him now, but he won't be able to finish his delivery in time. That's where we come in."

"And we won't either if you don't hurry up!" 'Risu declared. "Think of the children, Shika! We can't afford to fail this mission!"

"Ughhhh. What a drag."

From the Nara's yard, a red sleigh and its reindeer took flight amid the snowfall with an exasperated and exhausted Nara, a laughing and cheering Inuzuka, and the red eye of the Uchiha captaining its sleigh.

"Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!" Amari called as an aurora borealis trailed across the sky.