Naruto: A Red Eye Hidden by Shadow

by Tatanka4Life

On the fateful night of the Uchiha Massacre, a girl of Uchiha and Nara blood is spared and left with no memories of her past. Now she must walk on the path left by her family to help her build a new future for herself. Her path will be hard, full of struggles and pain, but as long as she has her friends and family at her side she will keep forging ahead, even if it was a drag.

146. Chapter 145: Allies or Enemies

Chapter 145

Allies or Enemies: A Shared Dream and a Waking Nightmare

After an exhausting span of hours diligently pouring through the daily influx of reports, there was nothing Tsunade would have loved more than a bottle of sake. Were that cup of sake paired with a trip to a hot spring, where she could kick off her heels, dip into the warm water to soak and drink after working herself to the bone, than she would have found a nirvana even years of meditation couldn't provide a monk.

Unfortunately, at the moment, there was neither a bottle of sake or a hot spring in sight. And there wouldn't be one for some time. It was a shame. Her old bones needed a good soak.

Today work was far from over, evident by the recent addition to Tsunade's desk—a column of file folders and stacks of paper carefully bound, Sealed or held together by binder clips and color-coded by sticky notes.

Pink sticky notes indicated issues regarding the general population; by and large they were requests that would lead to new D-rank missions or important issues which required the Hokage's approval to settle. Like a labor dispute, for example.

Then there were the green sticky notes, which designated matters of commerce and economics—imports and exports, Village finances, land leasing, loans, investments, etc.

Yellow sticky notes were for matters of construction, maintenance and infrastructure, blue for administrative, and red indicated anything urgent.

Beyond that, folders, booklets, and binders had their own patterns, their own organization and labels to distinguish what department or Division they originated from.

Shizune was an organizational godsend. As was the entire Intelligence Division.

Sighing, Tsunade gently pushed herself out from behind her desk. She didn't need an oracle to foresee the utter lack of drinking or soaking in her immediate future. All she could do was stand and stretch her legs for a little while. Then it would be back to work.

There's always something, that's for sure, she thought. Either some manner of issue to solve inside our walls, or a report from beyond our walls or beyond our borders. Like with those Land of River natives. Or the Stone.

The daily communication from Atsuko's agents on the Stone Village's current movements, or lack thereof to be precise, had become the norm as of late—the Stone had all but settled themselves on the Grass's border. On their side, of course, where nothing could be done without provoking the war.

To its credit, the Grass was valiantly seeking peaceful negotiations so that tempered and patient minds could prevail.

As per the Crow's report, however, tensions had risen to the highest of peaks since the last war. "Any day now," was the general consensus. Could be today. Tomorrow. Could take a week for some fool in the Grass, under the immense pressure of war and the anxiety of living day in and day out in fear it would begin today, to lose their temper and ignite the war by striking the Stone first.

At this very moment, there were shinobi patrolling on both sides of the border, waiting, watching, searching for points of entry, scouts or spies.

The feelings and rumors of imminent war were spreading quickly through the populace.

Tsunade's gut instinct told her the Stone had their spies and agents already inside the Grass spreading those rumors, riling up the public, diminishing morale, promising those they could turn protection or that their farm would be spared if they provided something in return—Intel, sabotage, or some other means to weaken the Grass.

And they were likely sabotaging defenses as they did.

Already civilians living closer to the border with the Stone were evacuating. Some were departing deeper into the center of the Grass, some moved closer to the border with the Leaf, and others already were seeking to make refuge in the Land of Fire before the first blade had struck.

It's only a matter of time now.

The clock would soon strike midnight hour on the shinobi world, and the fires of war would be rekindled.

Another report she received was pointing them—or perhaps was pushing them—in the same direction. Strangely, the report originated from the Land of Tea of all places.

Jirōchō Wasabi sent a message warning of some manner of warship—one of dubious description, frankly—being spotted by a sailor while out at sea.

Normally, her old friend had written, he would have thought it merely a hallucination or the drunken exaggerations of sailors, but no more than two days later another such story reached his ears. The same ship, by all descriptions.

The warship's heading had it sailing straight towards the Land of Wind. Given the circumstances of their alliance, Jirōchō believed it best he warn her so that she may warn them, as there was presently no formal communication between the Land of Tea and the Land of Wind.

Unlike the shinobi of the Leaf, his messengers had no experience crossing the desert, which had the potential to claim the lives of even those native to the Nation.

Accordingly, Tsunade had sent a message of gratitude to her old friend and an urgent message to their allies, concerned the Stone had built a naval force and sought to infiltrate the Land of Wind from the border they least expected—the western sea border.

It would be a long trip, requiring the Stone to cross the longest path around the continent to reach the Land of Wind's natural border with the sea, but it wasn't impossible.

Truthfully, it would be quite the daring maneuver, drawing their attention to the Grass and its border while sneaking in from behind.

If it was, in fact, the Stone. However…

Tsunade shifted her jaw in discomfort. She had another gut instinct—or, rather, a terrible fear. An awful question that dogged her thoughts ever since she read Jirōchō's letter.

What if this was a wave of invaders from another continent far off the known map?

Like we don't have enough problems already, she thought, placing her hands on her hips. No use getting myself worked up about it. We won't know until they reach the Land of Wind who they are.

Her eyes traveled past the rooftops of the Village, past the walls and to the horizon beyond.

Somewhere out there Team Guy and Amaririsu were on their way to meet two of the Fifth Mizukage's inner circle. With luck, they'd bring back some good news.

"Lady Tsunade, why did you pick Amaririsu as an envoy?" Shizune suddenly asked.

Standing at her office's window, Tsunade glanced to the mild and obscure reflection of her dark-haired assistant. She couldn't make out the expression on Shizune's face, but her intonation detailed the strange blend of curiosity, confusion and faint disapproval she felt.

"You believe I should have sent someone else," the Fifth Hokage stated.

"I'm worried that sending Amaririsu and Mimi together will draw the attention of the Masked Man," she said. "He may see it as the perfect opportunity to sweep them away, and that could endanger the rest of Team Guy and the Mist shinobi we're hoping to cooperate with."

"That is a possibility."

"Also, I don't know if sending an envoy was actually necessary," Shizune replied. "Team Guy is a very capable team. They all understand the importance of avoiding conflict with the Mist. I'm certain they would have found a path to cooperation on this mission."

"True. They probably would have," she nodded.

She sensed rather than truly saw Shizune press her lips together in a thoughtful frown.

"If you believe that, why did you send Amaririsu?" she asked. "Aren't you taking a significant risk? By simply keeping Amaririsu inside the Village, the probability of the Masked Man appearing so soon to speak to Mimi is negligible. You could have even sent another shinobi as an envoy if you felt it was necessary—Kakashi, for instance. He meets a nearly identical criteria as Amaririsu. He could also aid Team Guy in their battle against Raiga Kurosuki."

Every point her assistant hit on was perfectly valid. The same thoughts had crossed her mind as she decided whether or not to involve Amaririsu in this mission.

Any mission Amaririsu partook in or led beyond the walls would risk the Masked Man's interference or presence. That was undeniable. He had an invested interest in the child, whether because of their blood relation or simply because he sought to use Madara's bloodline to achieve his ends.

By that estimation, the safest option was to preoccupy Amaririsu within Konoha where they could maintain a constant watch and keep the kid in supportive roles that didn't take her out of the Land of Fire.

Safest, for a time, she thought. In the end, our desire to protect her would become little more than an ivory cage. Unlike my grandmother, though, who accepted Tobirama's decision gracefully, Amaririsu would never stop searching for a way to escape its ivory bars. She'd find something—a crevice, a crack, a weakness to exploit—and carve her own path forward.

Naruto, she knew, would do the same thing. The two were kindred spirits in that respect.

"You're not wrong," Tsunade began after a moment of thought. "No matter how you look at it, Amaririsu is a walking target dipped in gold. She could attract the Masked Man at any given moment when outside of the Leaf and its barrier; she could even be seen as a prize by the Mist shinobi, given her bloodline and the two dōjutsu she wields. I weighed the risks, believe me."

She was weighing them up until the final moment of her decision. Yet the conclusion she reached, like losing numbers on a lottery ticket, did not change regardless of the angle she looked at it from.

Only Amaririsu could be the envoy. Only Amaririsu could accomplish the mission Tsunade entrusted to her.

"Milady?" Shizune prompted in her following silence.

"Team Guy is a capable team," she said after a moment. "I have no doubt they would have secured cooperation with the Mist on this mission without additional help. The same could be said for Kakashi or any other shinobi I could have sent as an envoy."

Tsunade crossed her arms over her belly. "However, for this situation, what I need accomplished can only be done by Amaririsu."

"I'm not sure I understand," Shizune admitted hesitantly. "What can Amaririsu do in this meeting that Team Guy or Kakashi couldn't?"

"Light the way."

---

"Fair winds guide you, Lady Haya."

"You as well, Kazama."

Beneath a heavy, dull grey blanket draping off her like a over-sized winter poncho, Amari listened to the beating wings of a veteran Crow as it took flight from her forearm, felt how the air, possessed by a bitter chill, pulsed beneath Kazama's powerful black feathers, shimmering with an iridescent shadowy royal purple.

She watched the Crow ascend higher and higher, beating his wings until she could no longer hear them, until she could only tell the shape and silhouette of the agent but nothing of his majestic feathers or his sharpened beak, or the eye-patch worn over the right eye he lost during his years of service.

The black silhouette glided off, leaving the Uchiha to admire the sunrise in the calm, early morning quiet.

"Yah!"

Amari shut her eye and smiled. Well, it was a relative calm and quiet, interrupted now and then by Rock Lee's grunts, his clapping of sandals or the pulsing of air caused by one of his strikes.

"Ha!"

Beneath the blanket, Amari clutched her left arm at the elbow and drummed her fingers along it. His activity made her restless. She wanted to train, too. She wanted to be active, to move and sweat and fight to prepare for the coming three months of absolute hell standing between her and the Anbu.

At the very least she wanted to iron out the kinks and stiffness tangling her muscles with some stretching.

She couldn't. Any manner of physical activity—training, stretching, even a light jog of all things—were strictly forbidden by the Fifth Hokage.

Lady Tsunade was very particular in the language and phrasing of her orders, specifically in assigning Mimi to monitor the younger kunoichi as a patient and envoy, not as a comrade or a sister-in-arms.

As an envoy, Lady Tsunade explained, she couldn't afford to dirty her attire, get slick with sweat or become covered in grime.

Appearances were important. On this mission to meet members of the Fifth Mizukage's inner circle she had to present herself as a Clan Head, not a young kunoichi fresh off the battlefield, covered in grime or looking like she rolled out of bed constructed of dirt, leaves, and god know's what else.

In the end, a proper bath wasn't guaranteed before meeting the Mist shinobi, and washing in a freezing cold stream was very unappealing.

One freezing cold bath this week was enough, she thought.

So no training. No stretching. No activity that could produce perspiration or stain her kimono, haori or skin with dirt or grime. It was all such a pain. For a chance at moving their Nations even a single step closer to peace, though, she'd bear it with minimal complaining.

It also kept her safe from Lee's challenges, so it wasn't all bad.

Somehow I'll have to survive three months of training hell and Lee's challenges. Amari sighed as she turned around. I really need to cash in on my payback. I haven't found the opportunity yet, but with Guy-sensei and Kakashi-sensei training us it's bound to appear soon.

Their small base camp was settled on a terrace overlooking a stream, amid a few boulders that provided cover and concealment. The walk back was no more than fifteen steps. Her discussion with Kazama, although out of earshot, occurred within eyesight of Team Guy and their clients—Rokusuke, Hachidai and Sangorō.

Kanpachi, she came to learn, was one of the unfortunate souls to be buried alive.

As Amari approached the camp, where their clients and Team Guy were finishing their rice balls and bento boxes, Lee leapt into a series of back handsprings that doubled as kicks, one after another, until finally springing into the air, flipping rapidly in a tight ball.

He landed doubtlessly behind his enemy, already in stance for his next attack. He loaded his kick, too quickly for anyone on the opposite end of his attack to counter, and followed through with a loud,

"Ha!"

The air shudder behind the force of the blow. Glistening sweat flew off his flushed face.

"The fact he can do all of that at normal speed with those ridiculous weights on his ankles is amazing," Amari said as she kneeled down onto her sleeping bag. "Also utterly insane."

"Lucky you, huh," Mimi replied, a teasing grin on her lips.

"Sometimes I wonder if I did something utterly horrible in a past life."

Aoko yipped.

"Probably right, Aoko. She's so pure in this life, she must've been a real deviant in the last," her sister teased. "Gotta have been someone on par with Master Pervert. Maybe even worse."

As Amari slumped beneath a terrible rain cloud of horror, fearing she lived a hedonistic past life of devious perversion, Tenten lightly swatted Mimi on top of the head.

"Amaririsu, don't listen to her," she said. "I'm sure you weren't a deviant."

"Are you?" Mimi didn't relent. "In a multiverse of infinite possibilities, who's to say there isn't a version of Amari who's a little pervy? She could be looking through the walls of changing rooms—"

"I- I would never!" Amari flushed red.

"I know you wouldn't. At least you'd never tell anyone if you peeked." The Inuzuka smirked. It was nothing short of sadistic. "Let's be real. We're all teenagers. Curiosity and all that, right? You saw that invisible girl naked, too, so I gotta wonder if that's where it all stems from. Is that where your perverted nature began, Amari?"

Yep. She was going to die on this mission before they even met the Mist shinobi.

"Ugh," Neji scoffed. "Must you always bring us into the gutter?" He took a bite out of his rice ball and began to chew.

"I bet another version of you is an unmitigated pervert, Sir Superiority," Mimi didn't miss a beat. "You're probably so bad you'd even peep on a ladies changing room if your cousin Hinata was inside of it."

Neji's face contorted into one of disgust, then suddenly agony and shock. He promptly began to beat his fist against his chest as he coughed and choked on his rice ball. The revulsion at such impropriety glistened in his eyes.

"Yo- yo ill-mannered—" he choked.

"Anyway, another version of Amari is probably a flirty hedonist. Hehehe!" Mimi began to cackle at the mere thought of it. "You're so shy and awkward, the exact opposite has to be a shameless flirt! Wait, wait, wait, you also hate skirts and formal dresses, so I bet that version of you struts around wearing outfits like Anko!"

Horror struck Amari. Cackles consumed Mimi because of it.

She's right…

Lightning cracked inside the cloud hanging over her head. The rain poured heavier.

Oh god! Why? Why did she have to point that out? There could be a terrible version of me who is a perverted deviant! She may even be worse than Master Jiraiya! O- or there might be a version who shamelessly flirts and wears outfits Miss Anko and Miss Nemuri would approve of.

The mere idea of walking around in such revealing outfits left her feeling faint and embarrassed.

In a multiverse of infinite possibilities there could be a version of me just as bad as Mineta…

Lightning flashed. Amari felt her spirit leave her body.

"Stop it," Tenten scolded her teammate. "At this rate you'll kill Neji and break Amaririsu just like you broke Shizune. And then what are we going to do about the Mist shinobi?"

"Power on with the Power of Youth?" Mimi offered, grinning.

Tenten rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless."

"And yet I'm your favorite."

"Aoko is my favorite," Tenten shot back, smirking. "You're just a tagalong."

Aoko barked happily.

"Oh, you wound me!" The Inuzuka slammed her fist against her heart as though driving a stake through it. "Help, Tenten. I'm bleeding out because of your cruelty."

"Uh-huh. Anyway," the ninja tool user rolled her eyes and looked to Amari, "what did that Crow have to say? Is there any trouble?"

"No, no trouble," Amari answered, shaking off her horror and rain cloud. "At our current pace we'll catch the Mist shinobi before they reach Katabami Gold Mine."

"Any idea how far we have left?" Mimi asked.

"It's hard to say. Any deviation or change of pace from either of our squads, no matter how brief, will alter where our paths intersect. Good news is that, as of now, the weather is favorable from here to the Land of Rivers. As long as you don't mind the cold, anyway."

"It isn't so bad."

"Says you," the Nara hugged her arms around her body beneath the blanket. "Still can't believe you wore a sweater all year and now, in the winter, you take it off."

"Eh, this flak jacket is good at keeping me warm. You should try it." She shrugged cheekily. "Someday."

Amari narrowed her eye at her sister. "What do you mean by 'someday?'"

Mimi grinned. "You're the Nara. You tell me."

Oh she knew. She just wanted to hear her say it before pummeling her into the dirt.

"What is your plan for these Mist shinobi?" Neji interrupted their stare off.

He just saved your life, Amari put into her gaze.

The Inuzuka's grin grew wilder, daring her to make a move. Fortunately for Mimi's sake, she was forbidden from any type of conflict.

"I'm still piecing it together," she replied, looking to Neji. "According to Atsuko's Intel, the swordsman of the two—Chōjūrō—is pretty timid and shy. Also kindhearted."

In that way, he was the polar opposite of the two Swordsman she had met. Zabuza and Kisame were neither timid nor shy in the least bit. They oozed power and cold confidence.

"I shouldn't have a problem with him," she said.

"But the other shinobi is different."

"Yes. The kunoichi—Haruhi—is an unknown variable. Atsuko didn't glean much of her personality; their encounters were very limited. What little she did see, however, paints her as standoffish, distrusting and cold. Haku called her a valued comrade, but other than that, I don't know how she'll act."

"We'll need to stay on guard, then," Neji said. "At the moment we have no way of knowing what their true agenda really is. Furthermore, unlike our cooperation with the Sand, there is no official alliance binding our Nations." He held her gaze. "None of us here share a bond with the Mist. Only you do. It is likely for that reason Lady Tsunade has chosen you as an envoy."

She had come upon the same hypothesis. Neji was only missing one piece of the puzzle—Atsuko.

It was the Head of the Crows who had swept in from the shadows, adding her back onto the shogi board with a genius maneuver her Uncle would tip his hat to, and placing the Uchiha in a position of such strategic value and importance not even the Hokage could deny it.

This was all in order to forward one of their objectives—peace with the Mist. Not to mention gathering influence for the Uchiha Clan in the process.

Atsuko was smooth. Far smoother than perhaps even the Hokage realized.

"It isn't anything to worry about," Mimi dismissed Neji's concern. "You handled Lord Hiashi fine. You'll handle these two as well."

"That was different," Amari replied steadily. "Lord Hiashi and I agreed to meet. We prepared to discuss all the matters we touched on. We were both Leaf shinobi, bound by that bond and the Will of Fire.

"These two Mist shinobi have no idea we're on the way. Think of it from their perspective, suddenly a squad of Leaf shinobi appear before them while in a foreign Nation, declaring we'd like to talk. Without a bond," without Haku there to make it easier for me, "they'll be tense. You guys will be, too, because none of us know how this will work out. We don't even know if an alliance can work."

Amari lowered her eye, thinking back to the Land of Snow and the lesson Kakashi taught them, thinking of all they'd heard from Lady Mito.

"I want it to work," she said. "I know Lady Mei does, too. But wanting it isn't enough. It isn't enough to simply shake hands and declare an end to conflict between our Nations. If that could work, the Valley of the End wouldn't exist."

The others took in the solemn truth in silence.

If shaking hands was enough to attain peace, if it was enough to eliminate hate, the Second Hokage never would've orchestrated the assassination of my great-great grandmother.

He had, however. Because Hashirama and Madara shaking hands wasn't enough to rid his heart of its pain and hatred. They may have declared peace, but his war against the Uchiha never ended.

The kunoichi clenched her hands into fists beneath her blanket.

"There's still so much bad blood in this world of ours. So much history defined by pain, betrayal, sacrifice, war and loss," Amari said. "There are chains tangling our Nations, heavy and knotted, bearing spikes that have buried themselves deep into the core of our world. I don't know if I can untangle them, not in this one meeting. But I'll do everything in my power to bring our Nations closer to peace."

"I hope it will be enough," said Neji, though not unkindly. "Things could unravel very quickly if we aren't careful."

"There is no need to worry!" Lee declared suddenly. Together they looked over to the exuberant shinobi, who was balancing on one foot, holding a high side kick as he spoke. "Weren't you listening, Neji? Amaririsu has made us a sacred promise. She will not fail."

Lee lifted the thumb on his fist, giving them a thumbs up and a smile. "We will leave it to you, Amaririsu. I know you will show these Mist shinobi the bright, youthful fire that burns in your soul!"

Amari smiled. Her hands relaxed. "I'll do my best, Lee."

"Truthfully, I cannot help you accomplish your mission; I lack the skill and the reputation to be an envoy for the Leaf as of now. I also see I lack the understanding you possess when it comes to the state of our world and political relations. However, rest assured, as long as you are with us, I will protect you with my life."

Loading his extended leg, he fired off four rapid fire kicks without losing his balance.

"Whether it be the Kurosuki Family, bandits or these Mist shinobi, no harm will come to you." He loaded one last kick and struck the air so hard the air thrummed and the weights beneath his leg warmer clinked and clanked. "That's a promise!"

"Then I have nothing to fear."

Except how hard you kick, she thought, grimacing internally.

Being his eternal rival was going to be such a drag.

Mimi's, Aoko's, Neji's and Tenten's eyes flicked towards the clients, attracted by sudden movement.

Amari didn't see it; the clients were on her left, in the blindside of her covered eye. She did hear the rustling of clothes, the sharp inhale of frustration, and the wordless noises of surprise of two of their clients.

Turning her head, Amari took in Rokusuke's indignant stance, his clenched fists, his grit teeth.

Hachidai and Sangorō stared up at their fellow miner with trepidation of what he might say. They were older than Rokusuke by at least two decades, likely in their mid to late forties, if she had to guess.

It was in their calloused palms, their weathered hands, and their tired eyes; the only hair on Hachidai's head was his thick beard, while Sangorō's bristly morning stubble seemed more grey than it should for his age.

Contrasting them entirely was Rokusuke, who she assumed was somewhere in his twenties. He had youthful fire about him, a frenetic energy beneath his taut muscles.

"Something the matter, Rokusuke?" Mimi asked without malice in her voice, but Amari noticed the dangerous cock of her eyebrow.

Rokusuke didn't.

"What are we still sitting here for?" he demanded. "Everyone has eaten. Yet you're wasting time joking around and training. We need to go!"

"Rokusuke—" Sangorō tried to gently grab his fellow miner by the arm in an effort to calm him down.

The younger miner tore his arm away and didn't take his eyes off the Leaf shinobi.

"If we hurry, we can still save Kanpachi!"

"Kanpachi?" Sangorō looked like he wasn't sure who to feel more sorry for—the one who was buried alive, or the one who still believed they could save him.

"Pull yourself together," Hachidai, the largest man of the trio, grabbed ahold of Rokusuke's wrist. "There's nothing they can do for Kanpachi. I'm sorry. But don't give yourself a false hope, Rokusuke. With the weather conditions that day and the time that's passed since…Kanpachi is gone."

"You don't know that. There's still a chance we can save him!"

Tenten flattened her lips together in discomfort, clearly wanting to say something, but not sure what or how without it sounding too cruel. Neji turned his attention away; there was nothing to say or anything they could do to change Kanpachi's unfortunate fate. Mimi didn't bother to snap back.

Amari sympathized with their client. In his shoes, she'd feel the same way even if she knew better. She'd still hope, still pray, they could race back quick enough to save a person she cared for. She would be just as impatient, so she chose not to say anything.

Nothing I say will ease your pain. Nothing I say can change how you feel.

"Lee," Mimi looked over to her teammate. "Finish up your training and get ready to move out. We've got to escort our dearest empress to her blind date."

"Then I will be ready in less than thirty seconds!"

"The same goes for the rest of us," Mimi said. She stood up and stretched her arms above her head, bending both arms to clasp them at the elbow as she stretched left and right.

After one last satisfying stretch, she lowered her arms and placed a hand on her hip. "Won't catch up to those Mist shinobi sitting here. Way I figure it, they should know Raiga's weakness, something we can exploit to put him in the ground. And I wouldn't mind extra backup against a Seven Swordsman. If Raiga's anything like Kisame Hoshigaki, we're in for one hell of a fight."

No one argued. They all rose to pack their gear or seal it away altogether.

If Raiga's anything like Kisame or Zabuza, Amari thought pensively, calling it one hell of a fight will be in the running for understatement of the year.

They were on the road again before the sun rose above the tree-line.

---

Along the way to the Land of Rivers, Rokusuke caught himself several times hurrying ahead of the Leaf shinobi by a handful of strides, usually before the squad leader—Mimi Inuzuka—chastised him for moving too far ahead.

The final straw was when he ignored her entirely and dashed off as fast as he could run.

He had to reach the Land of Rivers while there was still a chance to save Kanpachi. No matter what anyone said, he was still alive.

There was a chance for him to survive. They didn't know for certain.

I'm the only one who can save him. Everyone else has given up already, but I'll save him. I'll save you, Kanpachi!

A fast moving shadow suddenly zipped by him, and before he could acknowledge the air to whip past his side, he felt an arm wrap around his midsection and a shoulder bury itself uncomfortably in his midsection and hips. His feet were off the ground a moment later, but he did not fly or slam to the dirt. He was hefted onto someone's shoulder.

It took him another moment in his desperation to recognize the wild mane of dark-brown hair and the red whirlpool on the flak jacket.

"Let me go! I have to save him!" he cried out, thrashing around.

"Calm down," Mimi Inuzuka growled.

"Kanpachi is alive!"

"I wish he was, for your sake."

"Let go! Let me go!" He thrashed. "I can make it in time! I can save him!"

"Even if you could, what do you think the Kurosuki Family would do when they found you digging him up?" she growled back after his elbow struck her in the back of the head. "You'd be buried alive, just like Kanpachi. But not before Raiga made you squeal about where you went."

"If we go, you could protect me! That's your job, isn't it? Isn't that what we've hired you Leaf shinobi for?" He tried to thrash and squirm to force himself free again; the young girl was far stronger than she looked. "You don't care, do you? All you care about is meeting these other Mist shinobi. I care, though! I'm going to save Kanpachi!"

Individually, the knee he drove into her chest, the thigh he crashed into her throat or the repeated accidental elbows he drove into her head wouldn't have lit the spark to the kegs of TNT known as Mimi Inuzuka's fury.

Together, though, along with his accusations, they did detonate it, unleashing a massive avalanche of stone and mud that appeared almost like the pyroclastic flow of a volcano.

Without warning, Rokusuke felt himself falling for the briefest of instants, then the solid earth greeted his back and the air shot out of his lungs faster than the detonation he inadvertently set off. He wheezed but tried to rise.

A foot planted itself on his chest. Looking up in fright, he saw the roaring waves crashing inside sapphire orbs, the pupils of which became razor sharp slits.

"Listen, you hysterical fool!" she snarled. "Kanpachi is dead. He ran out of oxygen a long time ago."

"No—"

"He's dead, Rokusuke," she cut him off. "All you'll dig up is a corpse. And then you'll be put in the next coffin to be buried alive."

Rokusuke grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut.

"There's nothing you or I or anyone else can do for him now. He's gone. I'm sorry you've lost someone you care about, I am."

She was wrong. Kanpachi was still alive.

"But I'm not about to put your life, Hachidai's, Sangorō's or my comrades lives in danger because you can't accept that."

"You're wrong," he mumbled weakly.

"Listen to me!" she hissed. "This is bigger than your life and your emotions. It isn't your life alone that's at risk. It's Hachidai's, Sangorō's and all the miners lives who are under Raiga's thumb. You want them to die, too? Is that what you want?"

"No! But… You're supposed to protect us."

"Grr! Raiga isn't some bandit we can catch unaware and kill while he's relieving himself. He's a member of the Seven Swordsman!"

He tried to sit up. Her foot forced him back against the earth. The others were hurrying to reach them.

"Do you understand the gravity of that? The risk me and my comrades are gonna take to liberate Katabami Gold Mine?"

She threw her hand out in a frustrated gesture. "The Seven Ninja Swordsman of the Mist are said to be capable of conquering an entire Nation when they're together. They're made up of the greatest blade-wielding shinobi the Hidden Mist Village can foster. They're the strongest shinobi right behind the Mizukage. And this bastard apparently lived through the era of Blood Mist, which created Demons and Scourges and Hounds!

"So yeah," she snarled, "we care about meeting these two Mist shinobi. It's part of the mission Lady Hokage assigned to us. Adding their battle strength to ours is the best way to liberate Katabami Gold Mine. That's what you hired us to do, and we're gonna do it without throwing away our lives for someone who's already dead."

He flinched and looked away to hide his tears, and the shame of being chastised by a child.

You're wrong. He's still alive.

Mimi took her foot off his chest as the others made it to their side. Her sharp gaze didn't leave him.

"Don't run off again," she warned before turning away.

Rock Lee and Sangorō were the ones to help him onto his feet.

For a moment he considered running again in spite of the warning, but when he saw Mimi Inuzuka kneeling ahead in the road, gaze fixed upon him as she helped Aoko onto her shoulders, he glanced away and fell in line at the back of the group.

Hachidai quietly scolded Rokusuke, reminding him how they owed their lives to the Leaf, for without their intervention they all would have perished at Kenashi Pass.

He didn't reply. He kept his brooding gaze on the ground, thinking of how and when he could escape without anyone seeing in order to save Kanpachi.

For some time he was kept company by his friends. He didn't engage them beyond one word answers, and sometimes not even that. He wasn't in a talkative mood.

They walked and walked without end. Mimi Inuzuka, Aoko and Tenten led at the front of their group. Rock Lee walked beside Amaririsu Yūhi, discussing some matter or other with excitement or curiosity. Neji Hyūga walked amid the Land of River Natives and yet outside of their group to grant them privacy.

The dynamics shifted further along their journey. Neji Hyūga switched with Rock Lee, Hachidai took longer strides to speak to Mimi Inuzuka and, if Rokusuke were to bet, to apologize for his behavior.

The discussions between Amaririsu and Neji were more formal, he noticed in his brooding silence. They didn't fill the stretching silences pointlessly, though there didn't seem to be any animosity.

Eventually her pace slowed. At first he feared she was growing tired and they would stop to rest, as Sangorō had expressed a similar desire and found himself carried on the back of Rock Lee, whom Rokusuke doubted would be able to carry Amaririsu as well. But she merely fell in step with him.

"Lee, Mr. Sangorō, may I speak to Rokusuke privately?" she asked with a kind smile.

"Of course, Amaririsu." Lee saluted the small girl. "We will go on ahead."

The boy picked up into a slight trot and fell in step with Neji Hyūga, who merely glanced over his shoulder at Amaririsu and Rokusuke. After a moment he looked ahead again.

"Is something wrong?" Rokusuke asked, feeling his heart pick up pace. Could she sense he was plotting to escape?

She didn't say anything at first. She walked beside him, and him beside her in the child's blindspot.

"You're not the only one who's felt the sting of loss," she began in a soft but firm voice, firmer and wiser than a child her age should have been. "All of us here understand exactly how you're feeling right now. I know that won't make it any easier to bear, it may not even make you feel less alone, but I don't want you to assume we are ignorant to this suffering you feel now.

"Despite that, despite how rough Mimi may have seemed to you, they're all driven to liberate the Katabami Gold Mine. They seek to protect all of you. Were there even the slimmest chance she could save Kanpachi, Mimi would have run straight to the Land of Rivers. No questions asked. That's the kind of person she is.

"I don't expect you to believe that on my word alone; I'm sure she might seem rough or cold to you, like she doesn't actually care about your feelings or your bond with Kanpachi."

He didn't say anything. He lowered his gaze and tried to ignore the lecture.

"She does care, though. They all do. That Raiga has hurt you—all of you—by stealing lives so callously has lit a fire inside each of their hearts. Mine, too, truthfully. It's a reminder of the darkness in this world we face, the same darkness that stole those we loved most from us.

"However, there is one thing I am curious about. How close were you and Kanpachi? Friends? Brothers?"

Rokusuke stiffened slightly. "What does that matter?"

"I suppose it doesn't," she said with an aloof air. "I was just surprised by how well Hachidai and Sangorō were handling it. Unless they weren't his friends…"

"They are," he refuted. "They're very close. They've just given up on him."

"Not you, though."

"No. I won't give up on him. Kanpachi is my friend. He is…" Rokusuke trailed off, catching himself.

"Someone you prefer the company of?" Amaririsu wondered.

Again he stiffened, sucking in a sharp breath. He felt like the bolt of lightning struck the mountain on Kenashi Pass all over again.

His eyes darted frantically over to Hachidai and Sangorō, and then to the child beside him who was finally looking at him. Yet that onyx eye of hers… It was as though she was looking inside of him, into his heart and soul.

"I- it's nothing like that," he stammered in a hiss.

"I'm not judging you."

"There's nothing to judge. Nothing at all," he reaffirmed harshly, face feeling hot in anger and shame. "Kanpachi was my friend."

The kunoichi raised her visible eyebrow, unimpressed at his tone. There was also a glint of understanding in her eye, as if she had finally slid the final piece of a puzzle into place.

Mimi Inuzuka and Aoko, he noticed, glanced back at them. The sapphire gaze was harsher than his tone, challenging him to talk like that to Amaririsu again.

No one else was aware of their exchange.

"I'm not your enemy," Amaririsu said. "Far from it. I—"

"Don't say you understand," he brooded in a whisper. "I'm past believing that from anyone. People will say their thoughts of you will never change. That this won't change how they feel. That it won't change their perception of you. But it does. It always does. In the truest parts of their hearts they think of you as abnormal. You become strange." He looked away in his shame. "Or a freak. They're disgusted to know you even exist. The sight of two men…"

He could still hear his mother's shrieking cry when she learned the truth. When she found him boosted up against the barn wall by the stableboy that early winter morning—no one was ever out of the house at that hour.

He could still see his father's blood red face as he roared and called him a freak, among other things, as he ran them both off the family farm.

There was no fairytale ending where they made a new life together. When news of their escapade spread across their small town in the Land of Rivers, he planned to run off again with the stableboy.

On the day they were meant to, he found the stableboy, who he'd done his damndest to forget the name and face of, hanging in the town stables.

Whether by his own hand or by the hand of another, he never knew. He ran like hell and had hidden his freakish secret ever since.

Until Kanpachi. He was his first since his adolescence. He was his first for a lot of things.

"I didn't realize the Land of Rivers was so conservative," Amaririsu said thoughtfully. "I suppose they'll think I'm a freak, too."

Rokusuke couldn't help but stare openly at the young girl. She smiled back at him and shrugged.

"I told you. I'm not your enemy. Especially not on this. Maybe they'll think I'm even stranger than you. Maybe," she began to giggle softly, "they'll think I simply can't decide what flavor of ice cream I like most."

At the front of their group, Mimi Inuzuka barked a sharp laugh no one except Aoko was certain the cause of.

He didn't know what to say. He'd never found someone so open and unashamed about their abnormality. Even when with Kanpachi there was still a fear they shared. After all, they were unnatural among the other workers.

Yet Amaririsu, despite being similar, was utterly different than them. She was so unashamed and uncaring of what others thought of her strangeness.

Immediately, he felt a flare of envy. A terrible, ugly feeling of anger seethed in his belly. Because he knew he could never emulate it, never feel the same freedom and lack of shame she felt.

The worlds they inhabited were too diametrically different.

"Love is a beautiful thing, isn't it?" Amaririsu asked, smiling warmly.

"Yes. It is," he admitted after a moment.

"Don't think of yourself as a freak. You're perfectly normal. The world is vast and full of so many different people." She shut her eye as she smiled at him. "The trick is surrounding yourself with the ones who build you up and cutting out the ones who tear you down."

Rokusuke blinked. "…You are the strangest person I have ever met, Amaririsu Yūhi."

"Hehehe!" Amaririsu covered her mouth as she giggled. "What can I say? I'm a troublesome girl. It's a hereditary trait, I'm told." She dipped her head slightly. "I'm sorry for probing into your personal matters," she apologized sincerely. "Before you do something reckless, just remember Kanpachi wouldn't want you to die."

With that, she moved up in the group.

No, he wouldn't want me to die. But he wouldn't want to die, either.

Rokusuke appreciated Amaririsu's warm words. He did. Even with that ugly feeling seething in his gut.

But he was still going to save Kanpachi.

---

The Crow was still following them.

Chōjūrō glanced up at black silhouette wheeling high in the sky, unnerved slightly by its continued presence. He thought for sure when they crossed the border into the Land of Rivers the Crow would veer off, but it hadn't.

The Crow maintained its flight pattern, wheeling a long and wide circle around their position as though it was actually a vulture searching for carrion to feast on.

I wonder what mission it's on, he thought, nervously rubbing his fingernail plates together. Please don't be mad at us. I know we crossed through your Nation without permission, but we had to so we could reach the Land of Rivers. This is really important for our Nation, please understand. We won't cause too much trouble. I- I won't bring down another mountain.

I mean, he lowered his eyes. I hope I won't. It is a gold mine. One wrong swing with Hiramekarei and I might collapse the entire thing.

Chōjūrō shook his head rapidly to shake off the terrible line of thought his mind had taken him.

Ahhhh! No! I won't let that happen. I won't collapse the gold mine…

Probably…

"There is a curry shop ahead," Haruhi said suddenly.

"Huh? A curry shop? Are you sure?"

Chōjūrō didn't see anything ahead except the mild incline of the hill they were climbing and the trees on either side of the road. It was strange, admittedly, to see anything green this time of year that wasn't some manner of pine.

The Land of Water was already enduring the harsh snowfall of winter, where the Land of Fire and Land of Rivers still seemed to be exiting autumn. By their standards, anyway.

"Yes. I can smell the spice on the air," Haruhi replied.

"I don't… Oh," he caught a whiff of it when a slight draft brushed past them. "You're right! I can smell it, too."

"We should stop there," his teammate said.

"Enchanted by the spices?" he asked in jest.

"It is a curious scent. I have never tasted curry before."

"Neither have I, actually."

"Perhaps we shall try some." Haruhi shook her head. "However, the food is unimportant. We have been on the road for several hours now. It has not been a strenuous journey, I admit.

"Even so," she narrowed her eyes, "although we come under a banner of peace in search of a potential ally, the rumors of Raiga Kurosuki's recent activities paint him as a cancerous tumor on this Nation and our world. Should the rumors be true, we will find ourselves once more facing a shade from the era of Blood Mist."

She lifted her chin, motioning to the sky ahead of them. "Also, the sky is darkening over Katabami Gold Mine. It would be ill-advised to engage in conflict with the wielder of the Kiba Blades in such an environment."

Chōjūrō rubbed his nail plates gently, flattening his lips in discomfort. She's right. As much as I want to hope we can convince Master Raiga to return to Mist Village as an ally, it would be stupid to ignore the possibility that the rumors are true.

"Okay," he nodded, lowering his arms to his sides. "We'll rest at the curry shop. Hopefully the storm will pass by then. If not… We'll figure it out. Together."

"Yes." Haruhi dipped her head in a sharp nod. "We will."

Before the curry shop came into view Haruhi removed her headband, hiding it in her pocket. Chōjūrō used the Transformation Jutsu to turn his harness and the bandaged Hiramekarei into an ordinary traveling pack.

The less people know we're Mist shinobi in another Nation, the better.

Mist shinobi had a…certain reputation. Especially in the smaller Nations, like the Land of Rivers, which served as old battlefields in the past Great Nina Wars.

They didn't want to frighten an innocent shop owner or drag them into a mission involving a potentially homicidal rogue Seven Swordsman. That'd just be irresponsible.

Admittedly, he also didn't want to be chased off or struck by a broom like some kind of vermin.

The curry shop was an old building, he learned when they neared it. Old enough that the red paint was so stained and weathered it would've blended into the Land of Water.

He almost felt at home looking at it.

The yellow wooden awnings above the main door and above the second floor windows, signaling that it was the shop and the home of the owner, were just as old and beginning to show signs of rot.

If those aren't replaced soon they're going to collapse in the next bad storm, he noted.

Beside the shop, on its left side when staring at the doors, a tall wooden windmill with five short propeller fans slowly rotated. Three separate ribbons of smoke and the aroma of heat exited the exhaust pipes on the right side of the building.

The Curry of Life, he read the shop sign as they approached, adjusting his glasses. The curry smells good, but the shop could sure use some renovation.

Beneath the awning they found an elderly woman of short stature sweeping the ground just outside of the door; she was maybe as tall as his abdomen, if he was being generous to include the beige hat she wore. Her white hair hung in two large strands on each side of her face, framing her wrinkled face and large glasses.

"Um, excuse me, ma'am?" Chōjūrō began nervously, hoping not to startle her.

"Hm?" The old woman lifted her head, as if finally recognizing they were approaching. "Oh my, what a wonderful surprise it is to see a young couple traveling."

"Co- couple?" he stammered, face flushing. "We- we're not…"

"Are we not?" Haruhi tilted her head in a sign of innocent curiosity.

Chōjūrō flushed a deeper shade of red and felt himself begin to sweat.

Sin- since when?!

He wanted to demand the question, horrified he had somehow missed every indication that Haruhi was interested in anything of the sort, embarrassed that he was only just learning this because of a stranger, and uncertain he had ever consented to it in the first place. Not that Haruhi wasn't attractive or someone he held in high regard! She was!

But this is all so sudden! I didn't know she thought of us like that! I thought she saw us a team. As friends! Ahhh! How did you miss all the signs, Chōjūrō?

"Oh, he's so shy," the elderly woman smiled kindly. "You've got yourself a good one, young lady. Now, how may this old woman help you?"

"Is your shop open?" Haruhi asked as he combusted. "We would like to eat and rest before we continue our journey."

"Ah, then come in! Come in! My name is Sanshō, by the way. What are your names?"

"I am Haruhi. This is Chōjūrō," Haruhi introduced as she followed the curry shop owner inside, lightly pulling him by the sleeve of his long-sleeve.

"It's nice to meet you, Haruhi and Chōjūrō!"

"Uh, likewise, ma'am," Chōjūrō managed to get out as they slipped out of their sandals. He had so many questions for Haruhi now, but they would have to wait.

Surprisingly, the inside of the Curry of Life shop was the polar opposite of its exterior. The wood floors were almost shining they were so clean, the walls showed no sign of weathering or damage, the short tables looked expensive and the kitchen, though small, was tediously organized.

The aroma of curry also hung in the air. It actually smelled pretty delicious.

"A young man with manners, now there's something you don't see everyday," Sanshō said with an old and warm laugh. "You don't need to call me ma'am. All of my customers call me Grandma Sanshō."

"Uh, right. I'll do my best."

They chose the table at the farthest end of the shop from the door, sitting side by side beside a window, where they could have a view of the entire shop and anyone else who might enter it.

Unconsciously, Chōjūrō caught himself checking the walls, the doorways and every nook and cranny for a flower engraved somewhere. Haruhi, he noticed, was doing the same.

To his relief, he found none.

"Now," Sanshō said as she stood beside their table, "how do you two like your curry?"

"We've actually never had it before."

"Never had curry before?!" Sanshō looked at them like she learned they committed blood sacrifices in the name of a pagan religion. "Well, we're just going to have to change that now aren't we. How well do you handle your spices?"

"No- not very well, honestly," Chōjūrō admitted, ducking his head slightly in embarrassment.

"I have no prior incidents."

"Okay. Sit tight then. I'll be back with your meals soon."

Once Sanshō had entered the kitchen and was out of earshot, Chōjūrō began to nervously twiddle his fingers as he tried to find the courage to ask Haruhi when they had become a couple. Or if she really meant it.

Maybe Haruhi saw an opportunity to deceive Grandma Sanshō, he considered. Yeah, that's probably it. He squirmed slightly. But what if she actually meant it? What if I really did miss the signs?

"Um…Haruhi?"

"Yes?"

"When you said we're a couple…"

"Are we not?" She tilted her head in innocent curiosity again. "A couple is a collection of two, is it not? One," she pointed to herself, "two," she gestured to him.

Chōjūrō blinked. He was caught between a smile, a laugh and a desire to slouch forward and slap his hand to his forehead.

I suppose we're a perfect pair. We're both socially awkward, he thought, smiling wryly. I'm sure glad Natsumi isn't here right now. She would never let us forget this.

"That is…technically true," he said. "But I'm pretty sure that isn't what Grandma Sanshō meant."

"What could she…" Haruhi blinked. "Oh. She was implying she knew of our deep intimacy."

Chōjūrō nearly collapsed face first into the table in a heap of smoke. "Knows of our deep intimacy?!" She says that like we are intimate!

"Should I correct her? I do not wish you to be uncomfortable."

"It- it's not uncomfortable. Correcting her now would be suspicious, too," he reasoned.

"True," Haruhi nodded, seeing his logic. "I apologize. I misunderstood."

"It's okay. I was just taken by surprise."

"Truthfully, I have never considered intimacy." Haruhi raised her hands and looked at her palms. "I was taught to think of my body as a weapon. Or, rather, I was taught to think of myself as a weapon. The body is a shell. A tool through which my spirit and will act. I can use it however is necessary to complete my mission, it can be damaged, scarred, or used, but they will only ever damage the shell. My spirit will always be unharmed.

"Intimacy, seduction, they are also weapons this body is capable of." The kunoichi pursed her lips in discomfort. "Love… I do not know if I am capable of love. I do not know how to feel it. I do not know how to communicate it or how it is communicated. My hands and my body only know how to communicate through violence.

"Is what I feel for Lady Mei love? Is what I feel for you love? I do not know," she admitted. "These feelings are new to me. Until recently I did not know what friendship was. I did not even know we were friends. Now that I do, I do not wish that to change. Is that…strange?"

"No," Chōjūrō smiled. "No, it isn't strange at all. I'm happy we're friends, Haruhi."

"As am I."

---

Outside of the Curry of Life shop, the Crow swooped down and perched itself on the edge of the roof, marking the building as the location where the foreign VIPs had settled.

On its right, deeper into the Land of Rivers, the Crow noted the building storm over the Katabami Gold Mine. On its left, down the path some ways, Lady Haya Uchiha in the company of Team Guy were approaching.

The dialogues were soon to begin.

---

As they trekked into the Land of Rivers and closer to Katabami Gold Mine, Lee fell under a strange trance that he seemed to sink deeper into with every step closer to the curry shop he claimed was up ahead.

His head lolled and fell forward, making it seem like he was having trouble holding up the weight of his own head; his eyelids blinked more slowly and did not raise any higher than halfway; his normal exuberance was replaced by an unseen fatigue and exhaustion, steps growing heavier, nearly dragging them with his overly heavy head.

Fearful he'd fallen under a genjutsu, Amari checked him and their surroundings with her Byakugan but found nothing out of the ordinary. When asked Mimi explained it as a vivid memory he was reliving.

Apparently Lee and Guy had run an intense marathon—even by their standards—some time ago. The saner members of Team Guy bowed out, for good reason.

During the marathon, after several miles, days and nights, Lee and Guy had fallen asleep, and yet their bodies had unconsciously kept going even as they slept.

"They're insane," Amari decided.

"Yep. Imagine all the fun Lee will bring into your life," Mimi grinned.

"I'm going to die."

"Nah. I'll be there to piece you back together." The Inuzuka sniffed the air and scrunched her nose. "They use some intense spices. Of all the places these Mist shinobi could stop to eat, why did it have to be a curry shop?"

"Not a fan?"

"Nothing against curry itself," she shrugged. "Just got a low tolerance for spicy foods as a whole. Comes with the enhanced sense of taste and smell. I never understood eating something that causes you pain. Like sour candies."

"Ughh," Amari groaned, lip curling in disgust. "Sour candy is the absolute worst candy to ever exist. Whoever created it deserves to burn for all eternity."

"Heh. Harsh punishment."

Aoko barked.

"A well-deserved punishment," Mimi offered as translation.

"Sweets and candies are supposed to taste good. Not leave your face all scrunched up as you gag and squirm."

"Taste good like an ice cream bowl?" Mimi replied, tilting her head slightly to look down at her with amusement.

"My ice cream bowls are sacred treats."

"And yet you can't seem to decide what flavor to put in them," her sister teased.

"Hmph," Amari snorted, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "Eavesdropper."

"Can't help it. With sharp ears like mine, I can't help but listen in on everyone." Mimi looked ahead. "I wish there would've been a chance to save Kanpachi, but giving him a false hope like that would've been too cruel," she said softly.

"I know."

"Any plan for these Mist shinobi?" Mimi asked after a long pause.

Calling any of her thoughts a "plan" would be gracious. She had ideas on how to approach the discussion, on how best to present herself and the etiquette expected of an envoy and Clan Head, as well as an overall end goal for the discussion; all the preparations to face Hiashi Hyūga were going to be handy today.

There was no way to know how the Mist shinobi would react, though. Unless one of them had suddenly been swapped out with Haku, which Amari knew hadn't occurred no matter how much she wished it to be true, she couldn't assume anything on how this discussion would play out.

Chōjūrō and Haruhi had their own mission to fulfill, just like them. They likely shared Lady Mei's dream of peace, but, as Neji had pointed out, there was no formal alliance binding their Nations yet.

We're neither allies nor enemies. We're merely strangers.

It'll be such a drag if I screw this up.

"Most of it I will have to play by ear," she admitted. "However, when we do arrive, I don't want you guys to crowd me or them. I don't want them to feel boxed in or that these peaceful discussions are actually an intimidation or threat. They need to feel comfortable. Otherwise this meeting will go nowhere."

"All right. I'll keep the others back. But I'll stay close by." Mimi offered a smile. "Have to protect the Empress, after all."

Amari rolled her eye. "Don't be a drag."

"Yes, my Empress."

"Ugh."

As Mimi snickered and Aoko chortled, the curry shop came into view ahead, standing out with its weather-worn red walls, its yellow wooden awnings, the ribbons of smoke flowing out of its exhaust vents and the windmill, who's thin propeller slowly whirled and stopped as the wind faded.

On top of its roof, Amari noticed immediately, was a Crow. When their eyes met, the bird dipped its beak in a small bow.

Their guests were still here.

That's a relief. We're meeting on neutral ground.

Consciously, Amari straightened her posture and turned to Mimi.

"Do I look presentable?" she asked.

Mimi nodded. "Of course you do. You'll knock 'em de—"

"Grandma Sanshō!" Lee's excited cry startled Amari nearly as much as seeing him bolt off at full speed towards the curry shop.

"Ah, crap! Lee!" Mimi shouted at the back of her teammate fruitlessly, rushing after him.

"What is that fool thinking?" Neji demanded.

"Nothing, apparently!" Tenten huffed. "We better hurry after them before Lee causes an incident."

Lee was already tearing open the door and rushing inside before Mimi could catch him. He shouted the same name as before, and with that shout, any chance at the subtle and peaceful first impression she hoped to make was gone.

Well, Amari sighed, so much for the subtle approach.

How troublesome.

---

A strange cry alerted Haruhi. Muted and rendered vague by distance and the quiet walls of the curry shop which separated the Mist shinobi from the outside world, where the only true noise was that of their soft breathing and the chant of,

"One and two, and one and two, and one and two," from Grandma Sanshō as she stirred the pot of curry while standing upon a step stool.

Haruhi narrowed her eyes. Calmly, she lowered one hand off the table, slipping it beneath the cloak she lay over her lap to rest on her thigh, beside her ninja tool box, carefully hidden from sight.

The cry was human in nature but was otherwise indiscernible in its tone, its cause or its origin. The window did not provide an adequate view of the road, unfortunately.

However, though vague and muted, the strange noise was real. She had not imagined it in a lapse of focus.

A quick glance to Chōjūrō proved he had heard it, too. His lips had flattened together in an expression of nervousness. He caught her glance, noticed where her hand had traveled and nodded in silent agreement to her plan.

It would be terribly unfortunate to shatter a window of the kind woman's shop. She had committed no misdeeds, no crimes which warranted the destruction of her shop. But if it became necessary in order to avoid conflict, she would not hesitate to break every window in this shop.

Their orders were clear: They were not to antagonize or enter conflict with any shinobi they encountered, regardless of Nation.

However, should avoiding contact with other shinobi become impossible and confrontation made inevitable, they were to flee and escape pursuit without retaliation—with one exception.

If their lives would be threatened by a lack of retaliation, then, and only then, could they wield their blades against those who sought to claim their lives. Without killing.

We cannot risk an international incident, Haruhi thought calmly.

Lady Mei would be displeased. She had chosen them specifically because she trusted their discretion.

Failure of the mission was not an option.

Shutting her eyes, the kunoichi extended her senses beyond the quiet walls, beyond the chant, listening for the origin of the cry. A bandit tormenting an innocent traveler? A shinobi acting out irresponsibly, shamefully, while beyond the sight of their Kage and outside of the borders of their Nation?

She heard the footsteps next. Quick. Very quick. There was a second set trailing it. A chase, for certain. Harmless? A source of conflict?

Haruhi's fingers brushed along the hilt of her kunai.

"Be ready," she murmured softly for only her teammate to hear. "They're coming through the door."

"Okay," he replied just as softly, hand moving to rest upon the "traveling pack" leaned against his thigh.

The door tore open abruptly, sharply, and Haruhi worried the strength behind the motion would shove the old door clean off its slider.

A green blur rushed in shouting, "Grandma Sanshō!"

Haruhi's orange eyes became sharp. Beside her, she sensed Chōjūrō stiffen and his fingers curl tighter onto his "traveling pack."

The entrant was a young boy somewhere between three and four years their junior. His bowl cut and bushy brows were not nearly as strange as the loud colors of the spandex jumpsuit and leg warmers he wore.

Their reactions, however, were caused by the glimmer of metal around his waist.

A Leaf shinobi. She eyed his forehead protector, worn like a belt on an outfit which did not require one. This is…problematic.

"Lee? Is that you?" Grandma Sanshō sounded pleasantly surprised.

Forgetting the curry, she hopped off her step stool, ran out of the small kitchen, reaching the main floor after the Leaf shinobi finished dropping his pack and removing his sandals.

He intends to stay long, she realized.

Grinning exuberantly upon seeing the old woman, his expression how Haruhi imagined one would have looked upon seeing their own mother or grandmother after decades apart, the young boy dashed towards her just as she ran towards him.

In a blink, he had the old woman hoisted up by her hips, lifting her into the air with the same ease as scooping up a small child, and proceeded to spin them around once. They both laughed joyfully.

"It is wonderful to see you, Grandma Sanshō!"

"Lee! It's been far too long!"

At that moment, the owner of the second set of footsteps entered the open doorway.

Haruhi kept her posture and face utterly impassive, but the apprehension swelling from Chōjūrō was infectious. She felt her grip tighten around the hilt of her kunai.

An Inuzuka Clan member, she noted the kunoichi's Clan markings. Her wild mane of dark-brown hair, upon which a pitch black ninken nestled, and her sapphire eyes did not interest the Mist kunoichi. It was the flak jacket that troubled her.

A Chūnin. Haruhi analyzed. I know who you are. Yes. You are one of the names that has crossed Lady Mei's desk in recent months. A name from the Chūnin Exams.

The Inuzuka kunoichi grunted at the sight of the young boy spinning the curry shop owner around, muttering something under her breath Haruhi couldn't hear over their laughter.

Haruhi's attentive and intense gaze did not drift.

You are Mimi Inuzuka, one of the kunoichi's who will either prove to be a powerful ally, or a difficult enemy, if you are given the chance to grow.

The Chūnin Exam reports were, as Natsumi called them, a required reading. Haruhi had read the reports to learn the potential of the shinobi involved. And how to eliminate them, should they become enemies.

We should not have stopped here.

They were meant to avoid conflict. They were meant to avoid encounters with Leaf shinobi.

Sapphire eyes flicked over to their position, and caught her intense gaze. It was then Haruhi became certain the Inuzuka knew they did not belong.

Did the Crow inform her?

As the kunoichi made quick calculations on the most appropriate reaction, another figure entered through the doorway, calm and composed unlike the first two.

She was smaller than Mimi Inuzuka and the boy named Lee, dressed in a lapis blue kimono and a haori colored like the sunset. Her wild blue hair was tied back in a high ponytail by a purple bandana and a Leaf headband covered her left eye.

Chōjūrō's sharp inhale made it clear he, like Haruhi, recognized the kunoichi from their reports.

Slipping out of her sandals at the door, she gracefully and soundlessly walked around the Inuzuka and past the boy and Sanshō.

Straight for their table.

Chōjūrō's hand tightened on his "traveling pack." Haruhi slowly, noiselessly, began to pull her kunai free.

A Hyūga boy and a kunoichi with brown hair styled in two buns appeared in the doorway. They were outnumbered and surrounded, for all intents and purposes.

The sapphire gaze had not drifted. Mimi Inuzuka took careful steps, repositioning herself closer. Whether for battle or protection was difficult to decipher.

"Hello," the young girl greeted them once she was at their table, bearing a sincere and warm smile.

There was strength—power, raw and tangible—in her presence. Yet there was also gentleness and warmth, like heat from a fireplace on a bitter cold day. It was magnetic. She was magnetic.

With a single word, just by looking in her onyx eye, Haruhi felt her hand relax.

You are…

"My name is Amaririsu Yūhi."

You are like Lady Mei.

---

This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy!

Chōjūrō was certain his head was about to explode. If it hadn't already and death was just a vast echo of his final thought.

I can't believe this! A new panicked thought formed, confirming he hadn't died. It's Haku's girlfriend! And she's really pretty!

Cheeks flushing in embarrassment, he fought down a squawk caused by his own thought and the urge to slap his hands over his mouth to stop those words from leaving his mouth.

Ah, wait! Don't say any of that out loud! Please, he begged his brain. She doesn't know about Natsumi's teasing. She'll think Haku is the one who calls her that and then she may begin to think less of him. Then Haku will be angry at me for ruining their friendship, and when Master Zabuza finds out he'll cleave me in two!

He could almost see Master Zabuza's Demon Chakra and his eyebrow-less features glaring deep into his soul. The sheer horror of it all was enough to make his airways constrict.

"Uh… Um…" He stammered, voice trembling. "Hello."

She hummed a soft laugh. "You are definitely Chōjūrō. Nice to meet someone as nervous and shy as I am."

Approaching strangers so confidently was not a trait he would ever consider nervous or shy. He would've been wringing his hands or pacing outside still if he knew he had to approach Amaririsu—or any Leaf shinobi, really.

The way she held herself, her posture, her countenance, her…eye, it reminded him so much of Lady Mei. She exuded an air of grace and warmth, gentleness and strength, and she did it, to his eyes, effortlessly.

He could feel warmth spreading over his cheeks. It was a struggle not to avert his eyes out of sheer shyness, but he managed. Somehow.

For that reason, he saw her glance down at his traveling pack. "And, if I had to guess, that's the sword I heard about. Hiramekarei? Did I pronounce that right?"

"Um…Yes," he nodded slightly.

She's sharp, he noted, senses slowly coming back to him. The Crows have briefed her on us and our presence, I'd bet. Once they learned we entered the Land of Fire, it's likely the Leaf decided to send her to meet us in the company of Mimi Inuzuka's squad.

He glanced quickly to the Leaf shinobi. Mimi Inuzuka had her arms crossed, sapphire gaze neither harsh nor friendly; she was guarded, unlike Amaririsu, watching their every move, their every mannerism, and, unbeknownst to him, listening to their heartbeats.

If they made even the slightest aggressive flinch towards Amaririsu, he was certain she would be there to meet them.

The Hyūga boy—Neji Hyūga, by the reports—had a similar presence to him. His eyes weren't watching Chōjūrō, however. They were firmly locked on Haruhi. What Neji appeared to feel wasn't full-fledged distrust of the Mist kunoichi, but rather caution, and rightfully so given both Haruhi's skill and the lack of alliance between their Nations.

The other kunoichi had her hand near one of the scrolls in the holsters she wore on her hips, alert and tense. The boy who entered so exuberantly was strangely calm, but that in of itself was proof he was ready to act on a moment's notice.

Behind them, shuffling in one by one were three civilians. One of them, who was the youngest of the trio, lingered a moment longer outside of the door. A moment too long.

"Rokusuke," Mimi Inuzuka spoke with authority without tearing her eyes away. "Get inside. Now."

The sharp tone of her voice was all it took. The man slouched and shuffled inside with the others.

I think I understand what's going on now, Chōjūrō thought, removing his hand from his traveling pack to adjust his glasses as he flicked his eyes back to Amaririsu.

Those three men are likely miners of the Katabami Gold Mine who sought the Leaf Village for aid, which likely means there is truth to the rumors we heard. Furthermore, judging on her attire, I'd say the Leaf sent Amaririsu Yūhi here as a sort of peacekeeper.

Konoha hadn't sent an elite shinobi. No. They sent the kunoichi responsible for the line of communication between their Villages, someone who they would instantly know by appearance and name.

The Fifth Hokage sent two of the Leaf's newest leaders. She sent the two kunoichi who would likely go on to lead their generation not only in this present time, but in the future as well. Just as he and Haruhi would.

That was more significant than an elite shinobi.

It was a sign the Leaf was taking them seriously as potential allies, that they, like Lady Mei, sought unity through peaceful discourse.

This is serious. As serious as it gets.

There wasn't room for error here. In fact, he was willing to say Lady Mei would consider this meeting of greater value to the Mist's future than their original purpose in the Land of Rivers.

Raiga could wait. In order to build the future Lady Mei envisioned, this unplanned meeting was now a top priority. They had to prove their words weren't hollow and empty.

They had to represent Lady Mei's goals and dreams.

Amaririsu's eye shifted to Haruhi. "You are Haruhi, right?"

"Yes," Haruhi answered simply.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she tipped her head forward in a slight bow. "I'm sorry to spring this all on you so suddenly. May I sit?"

"You may."

Chōjūrō glanced at his teammate to gauge her feelings.

Haruhi was staring at Amaririsu with an intensity he only ever witnessed when Lady Mei was present. There was a sense of captivation as she granted the younger girl every ounce of her impeccable attention, a desire to hear what she had to say and learn whether or not she was who she presented herself to be.

There isn't a single bit of tension in Haruhi now, he noted as Amaririsu thanked them and moved to kneel down on the cushion opposite of their table.

Behind her the members of Mimi Inuzuka's squad and the civilians slowly began to settle in.

Then again, I don't feel tense anymore either. I'm a bit nervous, but…

He looked at Amaririsu again as she adjusted herself.

She has a calming presence. Like Haku and Lady Mei.

"I'm not sure what's going on here," Grandma Sanshō approached as Amaririsu prepared to speak, "but I can see it is very important. Don't worry, I won't pry. However, any conversation is better with curry. How well do you handle your spices, young lady?"

"I'm more of a sweet fiend, honestly," Amaririsu admitted, smiling at the older woman. "Sorry for barging in like we have. I'm Amaririsu, by the way."

"It's no trouble. You can call me Grandma Sanshō."

"Okay. As for my curry, although Lee has spoken very fondly of something called the Curry of Life, I'd prefer something a lot more mild, if at all possible."

"Of course. I shouldn't be long." Grandma Sanshō turned to look at her other customers. "Everyone, please take a seat! I'll be right with you to take your orders."

As the old curry shop owner left them, Chōjūrō swallowed his nerves and lay his hands in his lap, where he could rub the nail plates of his index fingers together out of sight.

This is our chance to bring the Mist one step closer to an alliance with the Leaf.

He clutched his hands into fists.

We can do this.

---

Although their entrance hadn't gone according to plan, introductions had gone well enough that Amari didn't feel like the whole discussion was doomed to fail in a whirlwind fire.

The body language and expressions of both Mist shinobi were no longer apprehensive. Should everything go well, it would stay that way.

Ahead of the Nara was Chōjūrō, running a hand through his short, tufty blue hair. She could tell by the look in his dark eyes the deep claws of nervousness hadn't released him entirely. It wasn't surprising. It'd take more than a few words and a smile to relieve him of tension.

Amari empathized. Presently, she was way out of her comfort zone. She could feel her heart thumping in her palms, the steady beat quicker than natural but not at a sprint. She fought viciously against the urge to wring her hands and twiddle her fingers.

In the meeting with Lord Hiashi she had a safety net. The bond of a Leaf shinobi, true, but something far more than that.

Were she to have utterly failed at proving herself to Lord Hiashi, and were Lord Hiashi not trying to undo all which had separated the branches of his Clan, her uncle and aunt, her mother, Kakashi and Atsuko were all there to defend her from the Curse Seal of the Hyūga Clan.

They would have shielded her from the consequences. They would have used their influence in order to protect her from the Hyūga Clan. Although embittered ties would have formed between the Uchiha and the Hyūga, and potentially turned Lord Hiashi into an ally of the Foundation, she would have been safe. Mostly.

Here, the safety net was gone. She had Team Guy as protectors, but whether this meeting went well or poorly fell completely on her shoulders, and so would the consequences if she screwed it up.

So, a show of nervousness wasn't all that bad. It was almost comforting, even.

It made him more human.

Other than his black-rimmed glasses connected to ear protectors, he wore a blue pin-striped shirt and an off-white pair pants bearing a dirt-colored camouflage pattern.

His teeth were also sharpened like Kisame's and Zabuza's—the trait, she guessed accurately, was apart of becoming a Swordsman. A sort of ritual. He was at least two inches shorter than her mother.

Beside him, sitting in the seat diagonally right of the Uchiha, was Haruhi. The one she knew little to nothing about and who she expected to be cold or indifferent. Instead, her intense orange gaze had not left Amari for a moment.

It was a bit uncomfortable. Although there was no aggression or coldness in her eyes, the level of scrutiny she realized she was under added pressure to an already delicate situation.

A lie or a half-truth would be sensed instantly. She could feel it.

Amari, in turn, examined the Mist kunoichi. She styled her chestnut hair at her earlobes—short and easy to take care of. Like Chōjūrō, there appeared to be no scars on her face or neck.

She attired herself in a sleeveless dress the color of freshly fallen snow, its skirt draping to mid-thigh. Beneath the dress she wore a weaving of mesh armor fashioned into a clinging long-sleeve—protection against weapons and the elements. Black pants of similar length to Chōjūrō's finished her ensemble.

She appeared to match Chōjūrō in height, though it was difficult to say exactly who was taller while seated.

Her gaze was sharp, her countenance neutral and emotionless, posture straight as a board yet not stiff—it told Amari she was in complete control over herself and over the situation.

In a way, she was the counterbalance to Chōjūrō's natural state of nervousness. Confident. Assured in her abilities. Calm and composed even in the face of such a sudden deviation from their intended plans.

Haruhi was a fierce warrior, there was no doubt about it. She embraced that aspect of herself, displayed it proudly, but did not shy from the elegant femininity she was graced by.

No, even that was weaponized by the Mist kunoichi.

Amari noticed it in the sky high slits in her dress, rising above her hips and revealing the mesh undershirt beneath—which, in combination of the low-rise nature of her pants, would've been her pearl-like skin in a warmer season.

The dress and undershirt clung to her torso, accenting the natural, girlish curves of her body. Her outfit, her physique, they all displayed who she was—a warrior, a student of a Blood Mist shinobi, a kunoichi who had survived the harsh conditions of her Nation.

She isn't audacious and shameless like Miss Anko, and her outfit isn't designed like Miss Nemuri's to accent her Quirk or gain popularity, the Nara analyzed. Haruhi is a warrior. Her attire, her body, her strength, she can use all of it as a weapon.

She's a different breed of shinobi than us, Amari recognized it instantly. Like Haku. Her onyx eye fell on Chōjūrō. And like him as well. It's in their eyes. In their presence. In their chakra.

Her eye flicked to the "traveling pack" and reached out with her senses, feeling the swell of chakra flooding from it as only a Sensory Type could.

The Mystical Blade Hiramekarei was powerful, just like Samehada and, in terms of sheer chakra presence, greater than Kubikiribōchō.

They've seen a different kind of world than we have, Amari thought as she looked back at the pair. A harsh world of cruelty, bloodshed, betrayal, abject poverty and fear.

A world they seek to change, just like we do.

Common ground was always a good start.

"I'd like to start by letting you know we aren't here to interfere with your mission or cause you trouble," Amari began. "Considering you two went out of your way to cross the Land of Fire as silently as possible, I imagine Lady Mizukage also wants to avoid any form of misunderstanding or conflict between our Nations."

"Ye- yes," Chōjūrō confirmed with a dip of his head. "Conflict is the last thing we wanted. For both our sake and the Leaf's. If we were caught in a battle or seen in towns, news could spread and embolden an enemy into trying to replicate our infiltration. No- not that we were infiltrating to spy or anything," he quickly amended his statement, waving both of his hands hurriedly. "We were just trying to reach the Land of Rivers without incident. But…"

Amari hummed a short laugh. "Geography and our Villages history complicated matters, huh."

"Ye- yeah," he ducked his head. "Lady Mei would have preferred to go through official channels. But, like you said, the history between our Villages is complicated, to say the least."

Calling it "complicated" was also in the running for understatement of the year.

"Even if the Hokage agreed to let us cross," the Swordsman continued, "a Leaf shinobi who holds a grudge against the Mist might have tried to take matters into their own hands. They may have attacked us, and then the distrust and rift between our Villages would continue to grow. It would be the same risk if it were a Leaf shinobi crossing the Land of Water."

"True. War and the bloodshed it causes has afflicted our Nations and their people with great pains," Amari agreed. "Pain like that is rarely forgiven. And it is never forgotten. The pain caused by past conflicts has led people to hate and distrust each other, and in their hate and agony they seek vengeance against those who caused them their pain.

"Unfortunately, those who succeed in claiming vengeance will inevitably afflict someone else, just as they were. And so the cycle spins on."

A cycle I am deeply entwined with, she thought.

Bringing her hand to her headband and resting it over the cool metal hiding her eye, Amari said, "Despite the good intentions of its creators, the current Village System perpetuates this cycle. We are taught to distrust those beyond our walls. Those who came before us pass on their grudges, infecting others with their prejudice, their hatred, or their fear.

"And so we, the next generation, become new cogs to keep this ancient wheel spinning."

She lowered her hand and looked at both Mist shinobi. They were listening intently to her words.

"Look at us," Amari continued. "You two had to sneak through our Nation out of fear of conflict and what damage that might cause to our shared hopes of peace. Lee's grand entrance set you two on knives edge, our lack of knowledge of either of you has Mimi and her team all but ready to leap to my rescue.

"We have never met. We have never caused each other harm. And yet we are afraid. We are afraid to lower our guard." She gestured gently to herself and them. "We are afraid one of us has been afflicted by this…Curse Mark passed on to every new generation."

"You intend to change this."

It was not a question Haruhi asked. It was a confident observation.

Amari nodded to the kunoichi. "I do."

"Then we are similar in purpose," the kunoichi stated as an indisputable fact, nodding once to herself.

For a brief, silent moment, Haruhi stared at Amari, holding the Uchiha beneath her intense orange gaze, staring not into her eye, but peeling back the thin veils of protection she left around her soul to see what truly lay beneath.

"You reject the ceaseless bloodshed," Haruhi said at length. "Yes, you reject the violence and wars which propagate fear and brazen cruelty started and maintained by the older generations. You seek to reform this Dark Era which has afflicted all of us, regardless of whether we are allies or strangers.

"You reject this philosophy of ceaseless bloodshed, just as we reject the philosophies of those responsible for Blood Mist, the Kekkei Genkai Purges and the brazen cruelty of organizations like the Crimson Flowers. For like us, you are a survivor of this cruelty."

"Darkness knows no borders."

"No, it doesn't," said Haruhi, seemingly fascinated by the Leaf kunoichi. "You have suffered the steep price this cyclical cruelty demands at another's whims, and now you are determined to change the very foundations this world is built upon. Not for yourself, but for those who follow you—now and the generation that comes after.

"Yet you do no seek to inflict the same pain. You do not seek to kill them and stand in their place. You are different—an anomaly to their cruel designs."

There was an opportunity, she could feel it. A chance to capitalize on Haruhi's observations and move them a step closer towards their shared goal.

"I want to reach out to everyone I can," Amari declared her intentions then and there, openly, sincerely, without her walls. "I want this light that burns inside of me to burn so bright even those lost in the darkness can see my hand reaching out to them. It won't be easy. I know that."

She shook her head. "But if I did nothing, if I just gave up and accepted this world the way it is, then nothing will ever change. The cycle will continue. Peace will always remain a dream as we who inhabit it live a waking nightmare of war, death and misery.

"If nothing changes, more kids like me, like my friends, like you two will be forced to suffer the same agonies we have," she said softly. "That isn't the future I want for my children. For my friends. For this world. If that means I have to make waves, upset the status quo and oppose those it empowers, so be it."

"I see," Haruhi said. "You are an anomaly. Indeed, you are more like Lady Mei than you realize, Amaririsu Yūhi."

Chōjūrō nodded along in agreement. "Yeah. It's too bad she isn't here. She would have really liked to speak with you, Amaririsu. Er," Chōjūrō seemed to balk at himself. "No- not that we aren't happy to speak to you. I mean, it was a bit tense when you all walked in, bu- but now…"

"I appreciate the compliment," Amari replied, smiling to ease his nerves. "One day I'd like to speak with Lady Mei as well. She seems pretty awesome."

"Ye- yeah. She really is," Chōjūrō agreed, blushing slightly as he ducked his head. A boyish smile formed on his lips. "Lady Mei is so warm and passionate. She's working so hard to rebuild and reform our Village. It…gives me hope.

"Even when we see things like the Crimson Flowers, just knowing someone like Lady Mei cares so much about our Village, our people and its future makes me want to do everything I can to help her build that future. She makes me believe I can be strong enough to be the Pillar she sees in me. In all of us—Haku, Natsumi, Haruhi and Nen. Even Fuugetsu. Maybe," he added hesitantly, unsure of himself.

The mention of Haku perked Amari up, as did the reminder of Fuugetsu, who her kindred spirit called the strangest person he had ever met.

"Haku mentioned him. He was worried about Fuugetsu's…surprises? Is that the right word?" she asked.

"Yes. He's a bit…eccentric, even by our standards," Chōjūrō admitted, rubbing the back of his head.

"He is very strange," Haruhi stated it plainly. "I do not understand a word he says."

"He likes alliteration. A lot. And… Well…"

"Haku has his hands full?" Amari offered.

"No. They are usually empty when Fuugetsu appears," Haruhi explained. "He prefers a fair fight."

"When he chooses to fight, at least," Chōjūrō added. "Sometimes he just tries to scare Haku. It hasn't worked yet. Haku has a pretty good sense for when Fuugetsu is around. There was a time recently when Fuugetsu just stood on a roof, yelled—cooed, really—Haku's name at the top of his lungs and waved frantically. When Haku asked what he wanted, Fuugetsu promised he had a 'very big surprise' planned then ran off laughing."

"Oh god," Amari felt horrified for Haku's sanity, and yet found herself fighting back a fit of giggles. She'd already failed to conceal her smile. "Is he all right?"

"Sort of. Fuugetsu ended up popping out of an outdoor trashcan to ambush him." The Swordsman blanched as if remembering something very horrifying. "Except instead of ambushing Haku, he accidentally ambushed Natsumi. And she is…very scary when she's angry."

The vagueness of the nervous statement made the Nara's imagination run wild, thinking of Lady Tsunade hunting down Master Jiraiya, or Mimi unleashing her rage on Naruto and Konohamaru for their perverted ninjutsu.

A small giggle bubbled out of her. She quickly doubled her efforts to contain the rest.

"It is impressive, I admit," Haruhi said. "He seems to appear everywhere without warning. His training and personality are unorthodox, but his talent is unquestionable."

"He sounds troublesome," Amari said, smiling.

"He means well. I think." Chōjūrō didn't seem certain of his statement.

With Haku as the topic of discussion, Amari caught herself as she nearly asked how he was doing—generally speaking, without Fuugetsu's surprises. What was he up to? Did he seem well? Did he still keep contact with the two girls he met in the mines? Meer and Yumi, she recalled their names.

What about Chinami and Mika? Were they…okay was the wrong word, for the scars they each had to bear as prisoners of the Crimson Flowers were very deep, but she wondered how they were doing. How was the hunt for the Crimson Flowers going? How were Lady Mei's efforts to rebuild progressing? How was Zabuza? Did he fear her wrath yet? She wanted to ask it all.

Don't lose focus, she chastised herself.

It was too early for such selfish questions. They had only just found common ground in their hopes and goals, and though Fuugetsu's antics aided the group in loosening the last of their tension, there were still important tasks to handle.

You're here as an envoy. Once you finish your mission, maybe then there will be time to ask selfish questions as Amari the girl rather than Amaririsu the envoy.

Grandma Sanshō came to their table with glasses of water first and, after hustling back to the kitchen, she returned with Chōjūrō's and Haruhi's plates of curry.

The two plates had very different spices, Amari noticed it instantly by the burning red color of Haruhi's curry that seemed to glow when compared to the more mild blend on her teammate's plate.

That smells…really hot, the Nara noted, eye wide. She watched the Mist kunoichi, bearing a neutral expression, express her gratitude for the food and take a bite of it.

Chōjūrō followed a similar ritual. He took a bite of his curry and, after a thoughtful moment, smiled and thanked Sanshō for the wonderful curry. Haruhi was, as expected, more composed. She dipped her head once and deemed it adequate.

Glancing to her comrades, it seemed the sight of the Mist kunoichi's neutral reaction tempered the fears of most of Team Guy over how spicy the normal curry would be. Only Mimi looked at Haruhi as if she had taken the spoon and gouged her own eye out with it.

Amari's plate was next to arrive, being of the same blend as Chōjūrō's. Timidly, she took a bite out of it, fearful that, perhaps, natives of the Land of Water had stronger spice tolerance than Land of Fire natives.

As Amari tasted the curry, she made an embarrassing noise—a little squeak of surprised pleasure she was unable to contain. The curry was good, really good.

The noise drew a shy chuckle from Chōjūrō and a curious look from Haruhi, who seemed to be uncertain what the sound was or why it was made.

Blushing, she tried not to squirm to little success.

"How is it?" Grandma Sanshō asked with a wrinkled smile.

Placing her sleeve in front of her mouth, she nodded three times and said, "It's really good. Thank you."

"You are most welcome. Now, pardon me. A cooks job is never done!"

Left alone, they all ate from their dishes for a few moments before the silence was broken by Chōjūrō.

"May I ask what your mission is, Amaririsu?"

"Well, my mission is merely to act as an envoy. I was sent to learn what has brought you two so far away from your home to the Land of Rivers, and, hopefully, foster cooperation between your team and Mimi's."

"Wait, you want to work with us?" he asked, lifting his cup of water to his lips.

"That's the hope," she said. "Our Villages may not have an official alliance yet, but Lady Tsunade, like Lady Mei, is hopeful that will change. The letters I sent with Kaito have likely reached the Mist by now, or are soon to, and one of those letters comes from Lady Tsunade herself."

Haruhi's spoon paused halfway to her mouth. Chōjūrō, who had begun to drink, choked on his water, coughing harshly at the sudden news.

"The Hokage is reaching out to Lady Mei?" Haruhi asked, showing a rare display of surprise.

"Yes," Amari nodded. "After some recent events, Kakashi-sensei and the Commander of our forces spoke directly to the Hokage on the matter of beginning discussions with the Mizukage. She agreed and, like us, is hopeful we can make it official. On a strictly personal note, my hope is Leaf, Sand and Mist can gather in a single alliance."

"Haku's admiration is well-placed."

"I hope to always be worthy of that. He is someone precious to me and someone I hold in high regard," she said as neutrally as she could. Chōjūrō hacked into his sleeve, eyes watering behind his glasses as he struggled to breathe. "Will you be all right?"

"Ye- yes! Wrong—" A cough interrupted him. "Pipe. S- so- Kaito is—" He broke off into another wet cough.

"It appears this will be conducted through the unofficial channel," Haruhi said for him.

"Right." She wondered if she should tell Kaito he was now officially considered an unofficial channel of communication, or if that would inflate the hawk's ego more. "Through Kaito we can circumvent the Elders and Councilors of our respective Villages, who would only drag it out or make troublesome demands to ensure peace is impossible."

"Yes, that is wise. The Councilors are nuisances," Haruhi did not mince her words. "Zabuza believes they will betray Lady Mei's dream. Should they prove his words true, I will not hesitate to remove them."

Sheesh, the Nara thought. She says that so calmly, like she's ordering another plate of curry.

Face flushed in embarrassment, Chōjūrō lifted his glasses off his nose to wipe the tears from his eyes, coughing once, and then another time into his sleeve.

"Do you know—" He cleared his throat and readjusted his glasses. "Do you know," he began again, "what Lady Hokage wrote to Lady Mei?"

"No," Amari shook her head.

That wasn't to say she wasn't tempted to peek. Like Master Jiraiya at a bathhouse, she was very tempted to sneak a peek, to get even a single glimpse of what the Hokage had formally written to the Fifth Mizukage.

Unlike the unmitigated pervert, however, she had a semblance of self-control over such temptations.

"The letters between Lady Mei and Kakashi-sensei, and now Lady Tsunade and Lady Mei, are private. Or Haku and I treat them that way," she explained patiently. "Kakashi-sensei is a pretty private person, so the only time he has ever read one of Lady Mei's letter in front of me was her very first letter. But he only did so to learn the nature of the letter and, in the end, used Lady Mei's words to teach us all a valuable lesson."

"A lesson?"

"Mmhm."

It was a lesson, Amari recounted to them, that had begun to open her eyes to the difficulties of attaining peace in their current world.

It was the first in-depth lesson since their encounter with Zabuza of the bloody and harsh history of Kiri.

Kakashi, she explained patiently, had informed them of the struggles Lady Mei faced as the leader of a revolution that had successfully overthrown the tyrannical regime before it, and how easily the act of eliminating the Councilors—warmongers who profited off the previous regime—could damage her image and ruin all she had fought and bled for.

However, it was also a lesson of hope given to them by the Fifth Mizukage, who Amari firmly believed had, in her candid words which hid nothing of her heart, opened up the door to earning Kakashi's trust and respect as a shinobi and as a person.

After all, it wasn't just these warmongers who held a voice, but the next generation, too.

"Haku was the only name we knew then, but she was referring to you two as well, I believe," Amari told them.

Mei had written of her personal struggles in seeing a path to mending the broken bridge between their Nations. Terrible amounts of blood had been spilled over the years. Wounds were left to fester. And she could not see how she, a survivor of Blood Mist Exam, could heal them.

How could she, she had asked, when her hands were stained by blood she could never remove?

"She looked upon this world we live in and saw a cycle of bloodshed. The same cycle we've spoken of here today," Amari said, her listeners—both the Mist shinobi and those eavesdropping, captivated by the Mizukage's words recollected by the young kunoichi.

"Seemingly inescapable. Never-ending in its pain because we are taught to maintain it. 'This is the way things are, so this is how they must be.'"

Back in the Land of Snow, she hadn't realized—couldn't have realized—where these letters between her Sensei and the Mizukage would go.

She couldn't have known how deeply entwined her ancestry was in that very cycle or that she would go on to meet people like the Masked Man and Lady Mito, who deepened her understanding of it all.

Lady Mei, whether she knew it or not, had begun to prepare the young kunoichi to face it.

"Like Zabuza and Haku, Lady Mei opened my eyes a little more to the world we live in," she said. "They helped me begin to see the struggle we shinobi face, to see this world and its history, to see the patterns and cycles that have repeated themselves. However, Lady Mei believes this era is changing. That we," she gestured to their group as a collective, "can change it. I want to prove her right."

"As do we," Haruhi said.

"Then let's work together. Not just on this mission, but in building a bridge to the future we envision," she said passionately. "Let's change this world. Together.

"For years our Villages have battled and spilled blood, and now we stand at a critical junction in our world's history where we must decide whether we wish to walk down the path the past generations have decided for us, or blaze a new trail into existence."

There was not a sound within the Curry of Life besides Amari's voice. Everyone was listening, everyone was watching. Even the Crow on the rooftop, and the Anbu agent hidden from sight.

"Lady Mei has already made her decision. Lady Tsunade, too. They both seek a path to uplift their people and build bridges rather than burn them down," she said. "Even though they've seen war, even though their hands are stained by blood they cannot remove, they seek a new path. They seek to acknowledge this tainted history and effort to heal this cruel and beautiful world of ours."

It is my belief that supporting each other, she recalled Haku's letter, by acknowledging the bad blood of the past and putting in the effort to change ourselves and the world around us, we can heal this world. Together. We can cast aside the veil of darkness blotting out the sun and let rays of light birth new life. New hopes. Dreams and passions.

This, I believe, is how we change this world

Amari shut her eye. Haku…

"I wish this world was different, Naruto."

"Then let's change it."

Naruto…

"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."

Lady Mito…

"Is this the path your heart and eyes have led you to?"

"Yes."

Itachi smiled at her. "Then follow it, Haya. Trust in your heart and eyes, just as Shisui told you. Carve your path. Show us the future you seek to build."

Itachi, Aimi, Shisui…

"People I cherish have entrusted a great deal to me," she said, opening her eye to look at the two Mist shinobi. "Their hopes and dreams, their love and wisdom, their very essence and their futures. I can't let them down. I refuse to. The path I've chosen will be difficult. It may even be impossible, but I'll take my chances against impossibility. Just like Lady Mei.

"I reject the paths the old generation demand we walk. I'm going to blaze a new trail. I'll blaze it straight to a future where people of any Nation or Clan can understand each other and smile and laugh as friends, just like me and Haku are able to. Just like us, three shinobi of opposing Villages enjoying curry together.

"That's the kind of future—no," she corrected herself, "that's the kind of world I want to leave the next generation. That's the path I'll carve."

Haruhi held her spoon halfway between her bowl and her lips, fully captivated by the passion of the young kunoichi. Chōjūrō looked at her as though she was the Fifth Mizukage, her passion causing the slightest of blushes to dust his cheeks.

"Amaririsu…"

"Then our goals are aligned." Haruhi nodded once. "As long as you walk this path, you may consider me an ally. I cannot build this bridge you and Lady Mei seek, but I will ensure those who intend to stymie your dreams of peace do not obstruct your path. My blades are at your disposal, should you ever require them.

"However," she continued calmly as Amari opened her mouth to express her gratitude, "should your actions ever endanger Lady Mei's vision or threaten Chōjūrō's life or the lives of my comrades, we will be enemies."

"Fair enough," Amari smiled, feeling relieved despite the warning.

"I would like to see the world you envision. It sounds nice," the Mist kunoichi stated before focusing on her curry again.

"You're so passionate," Chōjūrō found some words. "It's actually kind of crazy."

"Crazy, huh?" Amari drawled, teasing the boy.

"Wai- wait!" he panicked, flushing red and waving his unoccupied hand quickly as if trying to grab and erase the words he'd uttered from existence. "I didn't mea- mean it like that! I wasn't calling you crazy. I was trying to say it's crazy how similar you and Lady Mei are. You're both so passionate about your dreams. And you care so deeply about people and this world.

"And when I hear you talk about the future, it…" he trailed off, lowering his eyes to his plate of curry.

"I want to help build it," he declared suddenly. "I want to believe in the possibility we can make this world better. I want to believe the way you and Lady Mei do. I want to see that future, even if it's challenging. So, uh…" The Swordsman looked at her and smiled shyly. "Let's build that world together, Amaririsu!"

"We will," she smiled, nodding once.

This is what I can do now.

This was how building trust started, with honesty and sincerity. It started with small steps, day by day. Eventually those steps would add up.

She couldn't take part in the talks between the Hokage and Mizukage, but she could keep reaching out to others, she could build bonds and bridges, just as she had promised Shisui in the Hero World, and in doing so the trail to the future they envisioned would reveal itself.

As long as she stayed true to herself, as long as she followed her heart, she could keep her promise to Kakashi and her mother.

I won't make you regret anything.