"You said if you could fly,

You would fly far - far into the sky

So all you'd ever know

Is that blue - that blue sky up above."

-LeeandLie, Blue Bird

Nagato rubbed a stick between his hands until his palms hurt, pressing one end against a rotten plank of wood he'd fished out of a pond. He stopped to inspect his work, but it was no good. It was too wet to catch fire. He didn't know if he was doing it right, but he was freezing, and Oka was leaning against his leg, shivering.

"Naga?" Oka murmured, clinging to his pants. "When's mama coming back?"

Nagato faltered. He forgot sometimes, that he didn't let Oka see what happened. "I don't know." He sniffed hard, rubbing his eyes. "I wish she was here too-" He stopped before he fell apart.

He needed to be strong for her.

He rubbed harder.

He wanted to protect her from the truth.

It didn't do any good. He hiccupped, tears sliding through his fingers. Every time he thought of his parents, it was watching like them die all over again. A nightmare he couldn't wake up from. He wanted to go home. He wanted to be hugged, to be told that everything was alright. But that wasn't possible.

It was just him and Oka in a damp cave.

Nagato cried until he fell asleep. He dreamed that he was sitting in Oka's room, listening to their mother read a story about a rabbit from the moon. He woke up disoriented, and a second before reality set in, he thought he was home. Then he rubbed his eyes and the roof of the cave came into view. He shuddered.

Oka was curled beneath him, arms under her shirt.

Nagato's hand shook as he felt her forehead, the action stiff and automatic. It didn't feel like she had a fever, but her skin was ice. He sat up and looked out at the rain, arms around his legs. The cave was cold and damp, but at least they were dry. Even if he was so hungry it felt like he was being eaten from the inside out, even if he was all alone, at least he was dry.

Nagato buried his face in his arms. Oka was barely awake anymore. She was getting weaker, and he knew, he knew the cold was making her sicker, but he didn't want to leave the cave. He didn't want to face the world that had taken his parents from him.

"Which story do you want to read today, Nagato? The monk who carved the moon out of wood or the traveling merchant who created an island from the stars?"

"The monk!"

His mother looked at the cover of the picture book he'd chosen and scrunched her nose up. "You sure? It's really, really boring," she whispered behind her hand.

"You told me to choose," he said, even as he hid a grin under his blanket.

"I did," she agreed. "And I can't blame you for choosing the monk. You inherited your father's love of old, boring books, after all," she said wistfully.

"I still want that one," he said stubbornly, refusing to let her change his mind.

His mother nodded once. Then she threw the book about the monk behind her and scooted forward, opening the book about the traveling merchant.

The memory made him smile, but it also made him feel like chains were wrapped around his heart. He could feel them weighing him down every time he breathed in.

Oka shifted in her sleep, reaching out for him.

Why did they leave him alone? He didn't know how to take care of Oka. He didn't even know how to take care of himself. It wasn't fair. He felt angry and scared and sad all at once. Why did they have to die? Why did the intruders have to come into his house and take everything from him? But he couldn't go back. What if they were still there? Worse still, what if they weren't? He couldn't face his parents again.

"I'm sorry, Oka," he sniffed. He should've left to find food earlier, should've found someplace warm for her, should've tried harder. If he was just a little stronger, a little bigger, he could've helped his parents. He was sorry for a lot of things.

Nagato pressed his thumb into the mud between his legs and drew two names.

Fusō and Ise.

He stared at them. "Sorry," he whispered, hoping they could hear him. Hoping that they could forgive him. He gathered Oka in his arms and stood, stumbling slightly. He felt lightheaded. His legs were stiff as he stepped outside. He looked up at the clouds. He hoped that they were there, together on an island in the stars.

サンダ

The fifth door answered him.

Nagato took a step back after knocking, his knuckles bruised and red. He was soaked, but he stopped feeling the rain after the first few minutes. Oka's arms were tight around his neck, fighting for warmth in his shoulder. She was awake. Her wet, sagging clothes had stirred her into consciousness, and the rain pricking at her bare skin kept her that way.

The door cracked open and the man behind it stuck his head out, eyes flitting back and forth. Then he looked down, surprised and suspicious. Nagato should have felt relieved. Or at least he thought he should. But he didn't feel much of anything. Just hungry. And tired. He was so very tired.

"Food," Nagato blurted out, then reconsidered. "If you have any extra food…" he trailed off. "Please. We don't have any money, but we don't have anywhere else to go," his voice cracked and he cleared his throat. "Just a little. For my sister."

Nagato felt a small thread of hope as the man considered him, the first time he felt anything like it since his parents died. The man lingered on Oka, and then he took a pair of scissors and cut his hope apart with a small shake of his head. Nagato lingered on the doorstep long after the door closed.

"What do we do now, Oka?" he whispered.

There were still a few houses left. He could try them, knocking until his knuckles bled and the rain drowned out the quiet. Nagato didn't want to. He wanted to give up. He wanted to sit against the wall and tell the world that it won, because he didn't want to do this anymore. It would've hurt less if the door hadn't opened at all.

But if he died, Oka would die with him.

It was this thought that made him step off the porch. It was what made his legs move toward the next house. And maybe, it was what made him glance through the window before he got too far away.

Nagato stopped, staring at the bowl of bruised fruit through the glass. His mouth watered. His stomach growled pitifully. And he felt angry. That man had food. Just not for them. He tried to shake the anger off, convincing himself that he might have a family to feed. Maybe he really didn't have any food to spare.

He couldn't give up one orange?

He wanted to steal it. The urge surprised him, and he shook his head hard.

"No," he said forcefully, making his feet turn, even as the rest of him seemed to resist. "I won't. I won't steal."

He was starving, but he could last a little longer. Long enough to find another way. He wouldn't resort to taking something away from someone else just to make himself better.

You can last, but what about Oka?

Nagato stopped again. He thought of the weight in his arms. Oka, his frail sister. He looked back at the fruit. She was depending on him.

What if other people were depending on that bowl of fruit? Could he take what might be their only food away just to feed his sister?

Could he let his sister die just to feel like he did a good thing?

"What should I do, Oka?" he asked, burying his face in her shoulder. "Tell me what to do."

She didn't, of course.

Nagato moved closer to the window. He glanced as far as he could into the room beyond it, but he didn't see the man. He looked at the fruit again. His sister, or his morals? Her life, for another life? He could just take one. But how long would it be before he was hungry again? A few hours? A few minutes?

He licked his lips. He could already taste it, feel the tangy sweetness filing his mouth. He was so hungry.

Nagato put Oka down. He wanted to keep her in his arms, keep her safe, but he needed both hands. "Stay here and don't move, okay?"

Oka looked sleepy and confused but nodded. He could see her cheekbones through her skin.

Nagato nodded back and climbed onto the window sill. He pressed a hand against the glass, staring at the fruit on the other side. He thought of breaking it, but recoiled at the idea. He didn't think it would be hard, with the right sized rock, but it wasn't something he was willing to do. He felt around instead, until his pinky found a tiny hole at the bottom, where the window hadn't been closed all the way.

His hands shook. It took a few hard tugs to open, and it left him out of breath. He stared at the prize for his efforts, his fingers twitching but unmoving at his side. The fruit stared back. The bowl was in front of him, but his arms wouldn't move.

He wanted Oka to live.

He didn't want to steal.

Nagato closed his eyes and reached forward, his breath hitching as his fingers closed around something round and soft. He opened one eye. He was holding an orange, bruised and covered in dark spots, but still. His eyes went wide. He'd done it.

He jerked when he heard a shout and fumbled the orange. Nagato managed to grab it before it rolled off the table, but not before he knocked the bowl over. He watched an apple bounce off the sill and disappear. He looked up and the man was halfway across the room, hand outstretched to grab him.

Nagato scrambled off the sill. Oka was kneeling, in the middle of reaching for one of the fallen fruits when he landed next to her. He scooped her up in a panic and took off.

"Bastard! Thief!"

He didn't look back, but the words settled in his chest, like a black stain on his heart. Nagato only stopped once he squeezed himself into the space between two buildings and convinced himself that the sound of the man running after him had only been in his head. He sunk against the floor.

Oka tore into her bruised and battered apple once he put her down in his lap, juice dribbling down her chin. It made him feel a little better, seeing her eat. Somehow, he'd kept a hold of his orange. Nagato stared the lumpy mess.

His stomach begged for it but when he finally took a bite, it was bitter.

ライトニング

Stealing was easier after that.

Nagato's hands still shook when he grabbed half a loaf of bread when the baker had her back turned, or water from a merchant, but he stopped feeling as bad. He learned to use the rain to hide his footsteps, how to use even the smallest distraction as an opportunity. He was picky at first, only stealing from those he thought had enough to spare, who wouldn't be affected by his thievery.

But that left him and Oka walking the line of starvation. There was never enough to keep the hunger away for long. He wanted Oka to get better, and the only way to do that was to steal from more people. People with less to give. He decided that he could either worry about himself and Oka, or he could worry about the wellbeing of everyone else at his own expense.

In the world they lived in, he couldn't do both.

So, he chose Oka. Even if he had to fight a part of himself to do it.

Nagato also learned that Oka liked apples the most.

He looked around the corner, holding a small brown sack with one hand. It only fit two apples and an orange, or one piece of meat, but Nagato didn't often try and steal meat. He knew it was rarer than the other stuff, because merchants were more protective of it, more watchful of kids with sticky fingers. He'd only managed to steal meat once, and it was the only time he was ever caught.

It didn't look like he was followed. He never was, but he checked anyway, so he wouldn't put Oka in danger. Nagato ducked into the alley where he left her. She was still asleep. He sat and ate an orange while he waited for her to wake up. It was soft, a little rotted on the inside, but it still tasted sweet.

"You're back," Oka yawned.

"Look what I got you." Nagato presented an only slightly bruised apple to her, grinning when her eyes lit up.

She pounced for it, almost taking his thumb as her teeth sunk into it. His smile faded. He was happy that she was getting stronger, enough to play with him like she used to with their father. He pulled his legs up. Thinking about his parents always made him sad and angry. He tried not to anymore.

"I told you he'd be here," a gruff voice said.

Nagato stood, his eyes going wide. It was the man from the market, the one he thought hadn't been paying attention. He looked at the older man next to him, grimacing. He'd stolen from him too.

"Easy to follow a rat's trail if you leave out a few breadcrumbs," he continued, staring at them.

Nagato grabbed Oka and ran—only to be jerked back but the collar of his shirt. The sack fell, thumping to the dirt.

"Oh, you're not getting away this time," the merchant said, dragging him backward. "Someone has to teach the rats around here a lesson. And since the shinobi in this damn village won't, I will."

Nagato dropped Oka, ignoring the urge to wince as she hit the ground. "Run!" he shouted at her. He twisted, fighting to get out of the merchant's hold, but his grip was iron. He even tried scratching at his fingers, but he didn't budge.

Oka got up on her knees, wide-eyed. Though neither man seemed interested in her.

"I think it'll be enough, if it's just one finger," the gruff man said, following the merchant.

"We should take the whole hand," the merchant replied with a snort. "Little rat's been stealing from me for weeks."

"Let go!" Nagato shouted in frustration, but they didn't acknowledge him. He stole because he wanted to live. Was that so wrong?

Oka wasn't running.

Why wasn't she running?

Nagato thought he saw something shift in her eyes as she stood up, but he never got the chance to see what it was. The merchant abruptly dropped him with a grunt of pain. Nagato gasped as he landed in the mud. He scrambled back, just in time to watch a rock collide with the merchant's forehead. He stumbled, clutching his wound, and the gruff man turned away from Nagato to look for the culprit.

Nagato knew an opening when he saw one. He got to his feet and grabbed Oka, holding her awkwardly as he darted out the other end of the alley. He ran until his legs hurt, until he was far enough away that he was sure they wouldn't be able to find him. They couldn't find him if he couldn't find his own way back.

He collapsed against the side of a building, the windows shattered and abandoned. Part of the roof was charred. "I don't want to steal anymore," he murmured to his sister, knowing he wanted the impossible.

He didn't want to go back to the gnawing pain in his stomach, the emptiness in his head. Being too weak to lift his arms and legs.

Oka wrapped her arms around him. "I'll steal," she promised, eyes serious.

She wouldn't, because he wouldn't let her, but the declaration made him smile when all he wanted to do was cry. He dozed off like that, dreaming of a story the village would tell their kids when he was old and wrinkly, about Oka the Thief.

Nagato opened his eyes to an orange-haired boy standing over him. He started, but he was already against a wall. There was no where to go.

"I'm Yahiko," the boy said cheerfully, as if he hadn't scared him awake.

Nagato stared.

"The rocks from earlier?"

His eyes went wide. "You did that?"

"Yep!" Yahiko shot him a sly grin.

"How did you find me?"

Yahiko shrugged. "I followed you. It was easy."

Nagato couldn't help being on guard. No one around here did anything for free. "Why did you help me?" he asked carefully. He sat up, pulling Oka's sleeping form into his lap. Away from Yahiko.

"I only did to them what they did to you," Yahiko explained. "They treated you like dirt, so I treated them like dirt. That's all." His smile was all sharp edges. "But that means you owe me." He held out his hand.

Nagato hesitated, but nodded. "Yeah, I guess I do." he muttered. What kinds of things would they have done to him if Yahiko didn't intervene? He reached for the other boy's hand, only for Yahiko to slap his fingers away. Nagato blinked at him in surprise.

"Not for that," Yahiko said with a dismissive wave. "You stole from them, which means you also stole from me. That's what you owe me for."

"From you?" Nagato repeated, baffled.

Yahiko scrutinized him, lacing his hands behind his head. "You really don't know anything, huh?" He sighed. "Come work for me and we can forget all this."

"Why would I do that?"

Yahiko tilted his head. "Because you owe me. I said that. You don't listen much, do you?"

Nagato flushed. Yeah, he owed him. But he didn't want to work for him.

"You're going to make this hard, aren't you?"

"Work for you," Nagato said again.

Yahiko groaned, tilting his head back. His eyes flicked to Oka. "We have food, back at the hideout. You help me steal more and I'll think about cutting you a share."

It was dirty of him to use Oka's wellbeing like that. But he was swayed by the promise of food. "Why me? Aren't there other kids you could ask to help you?"

"Yeah," Yahiko agreed. "But none of them owe me."

"I don't owe you that much."

Yahiko looked away, his expression suddenly serious. "And I've been watching you," he admitted.

"You're good at this. More than good," he shot Oka another considering glance. "I'm going to stop this war, even if I have to take over the whole world to do it. But not alone. I can't. You're like me. We don't steal because its fun. We steal because this world left us with no choice. Too many kids end up like us because of war, but I'm going to change that. I want you to help me." He held his hand out again.

Nagato was taken aback by the determination in his eyes, by how much Yahiko believed in what he said. It was crazy. They were too small, too weak to do anything. Still, the speech stirred a small, distant part of him. He didn't want to watch anyone else he loved die for nothing. What did Yahiko say? Because of war. Nagato hesitated as he reached out, but ultimately grasped Yahiko's hand.

"My name is Nagato," he said as they shook.

Yahiko nodded. "And her?"

"Oka."

A/N: サンダ - Thunder, ライトニング - Lightning