Hitomi's state was even more pathetic than Deidara had first thought when the girl got out of bed the next morning. It'd been nearing the evening when Deidara had found her—had been evening when Hitomi awoke and they exchanged some words.

Deidara hadn't had a good look at the girl until now, when the sun had risen behind the perpetually grey clouds.

There was a huge yellow bruise forming on the child's face, and her hair was ratty and clumpy with mud. She was stick-thin, even thinner than Deidara herself, and her legs looked like they could snap at any moment.

"Hungry?" Deidara offered her a bowl of rice when the girl approached her small dinner table, just big enough for three people.

Hitomi hesitated.

"I'm not going to bite you, un. How much do you want?"

"How much are you gonna give me?" Hitomi's voice was weak and watery.

A small irk mark appeared on Deidara's cheek when the girl answered her question with a question of her own. "I can't tell you that until you answer my question, idiot."

"I'm not an idiot!" Hitomi bleated, for her parents had praised her for being clever once.

"Then stop acting like one." Deidara frowned at the girl. "I have water boiling over the fire. You'll get some to drink soon. For now, get as much rice as you want from that black pot over there." She gestured with her thumb at said pot, which sat on the dusty kitchen counter.

"It's filthy here," Hitomi said, feeling the need to return to her aristocratic snark. Perhaps it brought her a sense of normalcy, so Deidara simply agreed for both of their sakes.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is, isn't it? But it's better than toughing it out on the street, un. At least there're less rats in here."

"Rats?" Hitomi looked horrified at the thought. "What rats?!"

Deidara raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. She brushed her bangs away for a bit before answering, "Just where have you been living before I found you? You certainly weren't on the streets, un. You were caught, after all, something that someone living outside would have avoided. And you flinch at the thought of rodents. So where did you come from, Yamanaka?"

"I… I can't tell you that!" the girl replied stubbornly, crossing her arms before wincing. The movement must have jostled an injury beneath her clothes (which were the pyjamas that Deidara had lent her for the night).

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

A staring contest ensued, Deidara's china blue eyes boring into Hitomi's paler ones. Tnen the Yamanaka lowered her gaze, her lip set in a pout that eight-year-old boys might have found adorable.

But Deidara was not eight years old, nor was a she a boy.

"You'll tell me sooner or later," Deidara said, seemingly nonchalant about the fact that Hitomi was keeping information from her. If she was a spy for Tsukigakure, I doubt that would have knocked her around that much. And she seems… honest, somehow.

"I won't," Hitomi sniffed.

"We'll see, yeah."

Grudgingly, Hitomi sat down at the table with a small bowl of rice that she had gotten from the pot. She ate slowly, taking miniscule bites so that she wouldn't upset her stomach.

Deidara watched her from behind her own bowl. "Where's Ino? You were calling for her last night."

Hitomi startled, nearly dropping her bowl on the ground. As she recovered, she tried to set her banged up face into a glare. "I don't know."

Pieces started to come together in Deidara's mind. "Were you looking for her? Is that why you were outside?"

"N-none of your business, y-you…! You unmarried girl!"

Eyes narrowing, Deidara flicked a grain of half-hard rice at the girl's forehead, making her yelp. "Unless you want me to leave you to those dogs outside, then you'll keep your idiotic comments to yourself, un."

"Ow..." The girl sniffled, tears of frustration welling up in her eyes. "I hate you!"

Deidara nodded calmly. "Good. I wouldn't want to be liked by someone like you."

Huffing, Hitomi screeched her chair back and stormed into the bathroom, sliding the door closed behind her. Sighing, Deidara leaned back in her chair, passing her hand through her hair. From her experience entertaining Daichi and his little friends, she'd thought that she'd been good with kids. But Hitomi was a whole different story, the little brat.

"She can't be all that bad," Deidara mused to herself as she finished her rice and took the bowl to a damp corner in concrete room. As she washed the bowl with a hose that trickled out rain water—the same water she boiled to drink—she could hear a muffled sobbing coming from the bathroom, the Yamanaka girl likely crying out her frustrations in false solitude. She seems more concerned about Ino than herself. She stood, wiping her wet hands on her pants, and bringing the bowl to the kitchen counter to dry it with a rag.

There was a pile of wood on the other side of the room waiting to be chopped and burned, but Deidara thought that it could wait. The fire was still burning strongly, and would stay that way for perhaps another hour. So she removed the cloth draped over a training wooden dummy in a corner of the apartment space. As she fiddled with it, testing its durability, Hitomi slid the bathroom door open, her eyes puffy.

"Feel better?" Deidara asked without looking over her shoulder.

"No," Hitomi spat petulantly, crossing her arms and marching over to the couch to flop her body down, her eyes troubled.

"Un." Satisfied with the state of the training dummy, Deidara started to 'spar' with it, the thing spinning along with her chakra-less strikes. The training dummy was one that she had robbed from Obito's open training field during her escape to a safer part of the city. The Uchiha's house, like Itachi's, had been seized by the Tsukigakure military, though Deidara didn't know what they were using it for.

Silence reigned, the only thing piercing the quiet being Deidara's breathing and the clunk of the wood as it was abused by her arms and legs. The tunic she had was getting worn—she resolved to go out and get a new one tomorrow, and perhaps some clothes for Hitomi, too. The girl couldn't just stay in her pyjamas and her the torn kimono she'd been wearing the night Deidara had saved her.

"Why do you do that?"

Deidara paused, the wooden arm of the training dummy tapping gently against her wrist. She turned around.

"What's the point?" Hitomi went on, resting her chin on her arm. "Taijutsu... doesn't do anything against guns."

"Then what do you suggest I do?" Deidara replied, leaning against the dummy. "Paint my nails?"

"I—"

"You don't know what you're talking about. Taijutsu has saved my life more times than you can count." She returned to her training. "It's a valuable skill to have. Sure, there are guns—" Deidara smacked the arm of the dummy particularly hard. "—and other modern weapons, but your body can be an equally deadly weapon if you put time and effort into training it." The wooden arm flew at her face at a speed that Hitomi could hardly catch, but Deidara stopped it with one hand. "But that's not everything. Martial arts is about self-improvement, discipline, and respect." Deidara turned to Hitomi again, watching her still form on the green couch. "I'll admit that I don't always have all of those things at once. But I'm one in a million practitioners, un. I could be worse off." She paused. "I could have ended up like you."

She expected Hitomi to snap or screech at her. But when the little girl remained in a pensive silence, Deidara accepted her stillness, returning to her training with unwavering efficiency.

As she watched Deidara train, Hitomi sunk into the couch, her body frail and breakable, but a tiny place inside her heart starting to burn. Okaa-san always said that a lady's duty is to get married, love her husband, and have a lot of kids. Okaa-san would never approve of Deidara. But her mother wasn't here. Truly, Hitomi didn't even know if the woman still lived. Ino didn't wanna marry. Which was why okaa-san that if she didn't pick a suitable husband in one year, I'd be the heir. That's what happened to the Uchihas, after all.

Uchiha Itachi from the main house had married to a commoner, giving up his status as heir apparent for her. The only thing his wife had going for her was that she was an Uchiha, albeit an unimportant one.

Hitomi clenched her fists. I don't want to end up like that. All alone. Even if he seems so... Itachi's subtly-smiling face whenever he walked through town and greeted his friends and family was etched in her mind. ... Happy.

The next time Hitomi looked up from the hands was when Deidara was draping the cloth over her training equipment. The woman turned on her heel, arms folded. "Put on your kimono, we're going out for clothes and maybe food." There was no way she was leaving Hitomi by herself—there wasn't enough trust between them for that. "Try not to get in my way, un."

Hitomi harrumphed unhappily before doing as Deidara said, taking her sweet, sweet time if it meant making the older female annoyed.

"You're lucky I'm not like Danna," Deidara said frostily, having picked up on that Hitomi was doing.

"Danna?" Hitomi echoed.

But Deidara yielded no answers as she led them outside, pulling her cloak over her head.

"Do I get one, too?" the Yamanaka inquired, tugging Deidara's outer garment. "What if they attack me again?"

"They won't," Deidara said gravely, a horrible truth coming to her mind. "Not if they see you with a man."

Hitomi looked at the woman strangely as they ventured outside and went down the stone steps. "But you're not a—"

Deidara smirked. "Yeah, but they don't know that, do they?" The cloak was large and bulky enough to disguise her womanly figure, and Deidara's voice wasn't high to begin with. "As long as I grunt enough, and pull you around, you'll be safe."

Despite herself, Hitomi smiled a little. "Men do grunt a lot, don't they? Big brutes."

"They do, un." A few men that she knew came to Deidara's mind, and she frowned. "But not all of them are brutes. Some of them are... suspiciously effeminate." Her voice lowered. "Now hush." She felt Hitomi nod once. A small burst of happiness came over her when she remembered the time that a large man had come to Itachi's house with intent to court the Uchiha, unaware of the former heir's true gender. The dent Izumi had in her frying pan had never been fixed. Deidara suspected that the woman kept it there as some kind of trophy.

Deidara was glad that Hitomi had at least some awareness about the dangers of attracting too much attention outside. She stayed quiet the whole time, until they reached a clothing store in relatively good condition.

"Why didn't you ever get new clothes?" Hitomi inquired.

"Because I never had any need to. I don't like coming out unless I absolutely have to."

"Oh." That made sense to Hitomi. Back when she had still been staying with the others, before having given into the urge to wander out and search for Ino, they had hardly gone outside either. It was quite a gloomy place, though the nice lady that had been Ino's friend before the war broke out did her best to keep things lively.

The store had already been raided judging from the broken window, and Deidara glanced once, then twice, about their surroundings before leading Hitomi inside, lifting her finger to her lips in the universal hushing gesture when the child stepped noisily onto a shard of glass.

"I like this one," Hitomi told Deidara, pointed at a wrinkled pink kimono. "It's like the blue one I'm wearing, except prettier."

Deidara immediately scowled in disapproval. "No way. You'd stick out like a sore thumb. Pick something more inconspicuous, un."

"But it looks nice."

"If you want to be thrown on the ground and raped by a Tsukigakure bastard with a beer gut, then go ahead," Deidara snapped, huffily going through the store for something more appropriate.

Hitomi flinched at her tone. "Can't I just wear it at home, then? And what does 'ra-aped' mean?"

"No," Deidara responded to her first question curtly. "There's no way we'll be able to take that back with us without being noticed. The patrols circle the district in their vehicles every five minutes. They glanced at us the first time around. Imagine what they'd do if you gave them more reason to be noticed, un."

"But—"

"Enough," Deidara bit out. "Just shut up. I'm not carrying that."

As Deidara sifted through the clothes, shoulders tense, Hitomi grabbed the pink kimono and began to strip with a speed that came from changing into different outfits in small frames of time to meet different suitors more than twice her age. When Deidara turned back around, Hitomi had long finished putting on her original, ratty and torn blue kimono above the pink one.

If Deidara noticed, she didn't say anything, though she had an indiscernible gleam in her eye.

On their return journey, they ran into another vehicle, a mode of transportation not commonly seen before the invasion. Akatsuki, which had put great emphasis on ceramics, fabrics, and agriculture, had done all of their imports and exports by more primitive means. But vehicles had been on their way here, until the Second Tsuki-Ame War broke out.

"You know, you're filthy," Deidara said bluntly when they got back to her apartment. "And don't think I didn't see that. I might not have seen you change into it, but you're loud. And smug."

The triumphant smirk on Hitomi's face dropped. "Are you gonna take it back?"

"What would be the point in that? It'd be easier to throw it in the fire, un."

Hitomi's eyes widened as she protectively hugged her body. "No! Don't!"

Deidara snorted, rolling her eyes. "I'm not going to. I'm not that spiteful, kid. But I'm going to need you to take off all your clothes." The woman rolled up her sleeves. "Because you're getting a bath whether you like it or not."

Hitomi was nonchalant as she removed her clothing, tossing the kimonos on the couch. "Okay. My hair is super dirty, and I like baths, anyway."

"Oh, really?" Deidara inwardly smirked, though she kept her face passive. "Even cold ones?"

When Hitomi blanched, Deidara had to resist the urge to cackle in delight.

Half an hour later, Hitomi was blonde was more, squeaky clean, soaking wet, and naked and shivering in the secluded courtyard behind Deidara's apartment. She bared her teeth at the houseowner.

"I hate you!" she seethed, her tiny frame shaking.

Deidara, who was equally unimpressed with her wet fringe plastered onto her face, threw a towel at Hitomi, nearly bowling her over.

"Hate you, hate you!" Hitomi screeched, tossing the towel on the concrete in a temper.

Deidara glared at her. "Feeling's mutual, yeah."

There was a plip! as a drop of water fell onto a larger body, sending ripples outward. There was no natural light in the Underground, merely a few torches that had been smuggled in and lit. The entire system was too large to explore, the dangers of getting lost prominent. The 'small nation', as Sakura liked to jokingly refer to it as, was compacted into a small area of run-down buildings. There weren't as many people there as a nation would have, but there were still aplenty. Most were civilians who couldn't fight to save their lives and had no special skills, but there were those who were inherently useful.

Sakura was their go-to medic, and Shizune was her assistant as well as fellow medic. Both of them had apprenticed under Tsunade of the Sannin when they'd still been living in the north, but, somehow, Sakura had ended up being the more popular of the two. But Shizune held no grudge against her, and both were highly efficient healers, able to help with scratches as well as large-scale operations (though the latter was incredibly rare).

There were a few martial artists prowling around as well, including Itachi, Izumi, and Kisame, who had arrived last night and was still out of commission for now. There was no leader, but many looked to Itachi, who had been heir apparent and independently wealthy in his old life, for guidance.

And, finally, there was Hanabi.

The Hyuuga heir, who spent most of her time above ground looking after her father and dodging patrols.

The water continued to drip as Hanabi led Ino into the small hut she stayed in whenever she wasn't above ground. Ino glanced worriedly up at the ceiling, expecting the flimsy covering to collapse on them at any moment.

They hadn't talked much last night, just idle 'how are you's' that Ino didn't see the point of partaking in but had done so anyway, because she was a lady and ladies were not rude—

"What do you want?" Ino asked wearily, rubbing her head. "Hanabi-chan..."

"Ino-chan," the younger girl addressed, her back straight and her eyes solemn. "I spoke to Sakura last night, and—"

"About what?" Ino interrupted, clenching her new yukata. They were both kneeling across from each other, a wooden table being the only thing separating them.

"It wasn't much," Hanabi amended. "Just that you'd been through a lot and that I should leave you alone, but..." Her eyes grew sad. "I just wanted to know... Did you see Hinata?"

Ino was taken aback. "What?"

"Please!" Hanabi blurted, fisting her hands. "I need to know. I know you just got back from hell, but please don't... run away from me. My onee-chan—"

"I didn't see her!" Ino shouted, choking a sob down. "I didn't, I didn't!"

Hanabi, horrified at herself for making Ino cry, reached across the table for her. "I'm sorry—" She flinched back, blinking when a sharp pain went through her hand. Ino had slapped her hand away. She...

"Don't touch me," gasped Ino. "Oh my god, don't—" She backed away from Hanabi, curling up into a ball, unable to articulate properly. "Hah... Don't..."

"What," Hanabi whispered as Sakura, alerted to Ino's cries, burst into the room and tended to Ino. "Did they do to her...?" And do I... really understand her?

Obito sighed deeply as he cranked the metal that spun cotton. Not all of his staff knew it, but he and Rin were labouring away at their own cotton mill. He would be on the verge of bankruptcy in a few months; all his thread-spinners and new equipment had amounted to nothing in the end, and he chuckled mirthlessly as he imagined what he would do to pay Itachi and Sasori back. Probably with a lame apology.

They were getting no sales. The pay of his staff had been cut down significantly. At least half of them had gone, actually, because there was no food in the area to spend their pay on. Money were just useless lumps of metal to them now.

Chiyo's Chicken Rice had shut down a few days ago, as had many other restaurants. There simply wasn't enough to go around. Obito suspected that the wily old bat and her equally wily grandson had shut down their store in favor of hoarding food. Obito was just surprised that it had taken them this long to do so.

Perhaps they pitied the rest of the community.

But in the end, their own skins came first. Just as it should be.

"Obito." Rin, the purple markings on her face ever so bright, approached him through the chaos of cotton and workers, her eyes tired. "I found out where the missing money from the safe went." She gave him a crooked smile that didn't fully reach her eyes. "Hikari hid it under her bed to protect it from bandits."

"Oh." That was all Obito could say as he felt his heart soften in a twisty sort of way. "That's sweet of her."

"Yeah," Rin heaved a sigh. "It was a nice sentiment. Obito, I've been meaning to ask for a while... Just what happened to the Uchihas?"

Obito stiffened, stopping his cranking. "Rin..."

"Oh, no," Rin said sharply. "You're not getting out of this so easily. I let it slide last time because Daichi was in the room, but I'm an Uchiha, too, if only by marriage. They're my family, whether you like it or not."

Obito sighed, smiling tiredly. "Man, I such a strong-willed wife. All the women I know are so aggressive..."

"Stop stalling, Obito. I have to know."

"They were mostly left alone," Obito began reluctantly. "The police force has been dissolved. But some of them have been assimilated into the Tsukigakure forces."

Rin's eyes narrowed. "What? Who?"

"A few nobodies desperate for survival..." Obito closed his eyes, looking ten years older. "And Shisui and Sasuke."

"WHAT?!"

Rin's outburst earned them a few glances before the workers went back to minding their own business.

Over the shock, Rin lowered her voice, brow furrowed. "How could they? These people are our enemy. Are they really that desperate? Would they really throw their Uchiha pride away?"

"They would," Obito gravely confirmed. "Pride is a dominant force in the Uchiha family... but self-preservation is an even greater force, one that reigns over every human being. Why do you think that the crime rate has gone up so much, even without the police? We're all desperate to survive, Rin."

"I know," she said quietly, her voice spiritless. "I know, I know." She stepped back. "I'm going to check on Daichi..."

"If he asks about Sasuke, please don't tell him anything."

Rin frowned. "Obito—"

"Rin, please."

There was a pause.

Then Rin sighed. "Fine. But he's going to find out sooner or later."

"That bridge can be crossed in the future."

Little did they know, Naruto, hiding behind some machinery, had heard the whole thing about Sasuke. Clenching his fists, he stormed back to his station. Sasuke-teme... how could you abandon Akatsuki for them?!

"What's wrong, Naruto?" Tenten asked when she noticed his foul mood. "Were you finally banned from going outside?"

Oh, if only it was that simple.

"Chiyo-baa-sama, I'm off," Sasori said as he closed the door. "You know where."

"Tell me the news when you get back," Chiyo replied before the door fully closed. Sasori and Chiyo lived above their closed chicken rice restaurant, and the man had to descend a flight of stairs before finally reaching the tiny lobby. There was a criss-cross metal barrier which he had to unlock and separate so he could leave the building.

He walked the length of the central district before turning left to take a detour that not many knew about, as it was covered by broken wooden fencing and looked like the epitome of a dump.

Sasori was wearing a plain black cloak with a high collar, as it was too risky to be seen wearing an Akatsuki one. If one looked closely, they could see the remnants of red thread from where he had pulled out the string that formed the cloud patterning.

The detour led him to an open space that had a few high buildings surrounding it. There were a few drunkards lingering about.

Nothing special. The only building that had its lights on was a beer hall that had the Tsukigakure flag hung over the store's original sign. Sasori got a few sneers from half-dead civilians before he disappeared into the beer hall, the bright lights inside staining his eyes.

Ingenious, he couldn't help but think as he looked about the place, seeing Tsukigakure soldiers left and right. The hall was filled with raucous laughter and the clinking of beer glasses as off-duty soldiers squandered their time away. No one would ever suspect...

The beautiful barmaid behind the counter eyed him with her jade green gaze, her midnight bangs falling demurely over her face as a man burped while trying to flirt with her. There was another with her—an unassuming young with his long hair tied in a high, spiky ponytail. It reminded Sasori of a pineapple's brush. He was cleaning a glass, his gaze lazily flitting across to him, much like the black-haired woman's.

... that the most popular hub for enemy soldiers would be right above the Underground.

Sasori looked out the window. It was already well into the night.

"Alright," the woman—Sakura—said cheerfully, clapping her hands together. "It's been great having you boys here, but it's time to pack up! Don't you guys have work tomorrow?"

There were some collective groans, and Sasori noted that all of the soldiers seemed relatively young.

Nevertheless, scum was still scum.

There were calls and shouts of "she's right", "dammit", "Akatsuki girls are super hot" and "at least they know how to party" before they all filed out.

"Come again," Shikamaru called after them, sounding extremely tired but still very unassuming. Just another civilian labourer in the city and not a master strategist.

The bar's doors closed for the night when the last soldier was gone, and Sakura made sure to triple-lock every single door and window before she dropped her act.

A crease immediately formed in her brows. "I've been letting those dogs grope me since eleven in the morning with only a few breaks. Now are you coming or not?"

"I see your temper hasn't improved," Sasori remarked as Shikamaru opened up the doors to the cellar, where they kept all their alcohol.

"You're right about that," Shikamaru drawled. "Even when she's playing the whore, she's still as troublesome as ever..."

"I'm right here, you know," Sakura snapped, kicking him in the shins.

"Ow—shit! Troublesome woman!"

"Keep talking and I'll tell Izumi that you were the one who helped Choji break into the food stores!" Sakura said fiercely, jabbing a finger at his chest. "For a genius, you sure can be stupid sometimes!"

"It was one ration bar!" Shikamaru snapped back. "And he was still recovering from, you know, getting forcefully evicted from his own house!"

"Enough," Sasori said blandly upon reaching the bottom of the stairs. "We're here."

They walked behind an alcohol shelf, and moved a crate to the right, revealing the covering of a manhole.

"Ladies first," Sasori offered Sakura.

"Well, at least you've kept your manners during the war."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," Sasori told her, borrowing a phrase from Shikamaru, "Women really are troublesome things."

"Ugh, chauvinists, the both of you."

"I don't try to see based on gender," Sasori said as they climbed down the ladder leading to the Underground. "I make my judgement based on skill and personality. It's only a shameful coincidence that nearly all the females I've ever met leave something to be desired for."

"Nearly's better than all, I guess," Sakura huffed. "So who do you put in the 'not-so-troublesome' category?"

"My grandmother."

"She's pretty scary," Shikamaru admitted, having met the woman once before. "I'm glad she and my mother have never met."

"Oh, hush you," said Sakura. "Is there anyone else, Sasori? Surely, there's got to be more than one woman."

"Sakura, if you're trying to hit on him, I don't think it's working," Shikamaru felt the need to advise her.

"I'm not! Geez!"

"There's..." Sasori trailed off, running a list of women he knew in his mind. "Izumi-san is alright. And Deidara makes a worthy opponent in battle. And her companionship isn't terrible." I haven't seen her since the invasion began. Her apartment was one of the first buildings to be burned down. His heart twisted at his next thought. She must be either dead or hiding out in another part of the city. Perhaps she was even lucky enough to escape, though I doubt it.

"I remember her," Sakura commented, her feet tapping on the ground as she landed safely. "Obito-san called me over to heal you and her. It must have been a brutal battle."

"Aa. It was."

"She normally came to the courtyard to entertain the kids," Shikamaru added, remembering how the young boys had been thoroughly impressed by her explosions. "I remember that Obito-sama's kid was one of them."

"How is he, by the way?" asked Sakura. "Obito, that is."

They were all walking toward the main camp now, their boots slapping against the wet floor.

"Doing as well as he can be," Sasori replied.

Shikamaru clicked his tongue. "That bad, huh? At least he's not living in the sewer."

Nara Shikamaru's home had been one of the many clan homes burned down during the first week of the invasion. His mother had passed away in the attack, while Shikaku and Shikamaru had managed to get away. Akimichi Choza had made a similar escape, but he and Choji, his son, had been separated during the frenzy. Choji had ended up with the Underground Faction, and everyone could only hope that Choza was okay as well. The man was a martial artist master, after all.

But Inoichi's family...

Shikamaru felt nausea settle in his gut as he thought of Ino, who had arrived last night. He hasn't spoken to her yet. Had been too scared to see what they'd done to her.

"We're here," Sakura eventually announced, lifting her arms up in a stretch before biting her lip in worry. "I'm going to go check on Ino. Shika, take Sasori-san to see Itachi."

At the mention of Ino, Shikamaru grimaced. "Right." He was surprised why Sakura hadn't pressed him to visit Ino yet, but he was also relieved. He'd have to face the music sooner or later, but...

Later sounded a whole lot better for present-Shikamaru, nevermind what future-Shikamaru thought.

"Sasori, come in," Itachi invited when he noticed Shikamaru and Sasori standing by the open doorway. His home was a dimly lit, simple stone building, complete with a table and some cushions he'd brought from his mansion.

"I never did ask," Sasori said, cocking a brow. "How do you get clean down here?"

"The bar upstairs has showers. We all take turns during the night."

"I see." Sasori pulled out a storage scroll, absently noting that Shikamaru had left them to talk. "Where is Izumi-san?"

There. Itachi's gaze had grown troubled. "She's in the medical building. She's due in two months, and she's been having a few aches and pains." His eyes dropped to the scroll Sasori was holding. "Are those..."

"Yeah." Sasori popped out some miscellaneous items from the storage scroll. "Pregnancy vitamins, poisons and antidotes, and home-made medicines."

Itachi managed a smile. "Thank you. You're a good friend, Sasori."

"We weren't friends before," Sasori said carefully. Business partners and acquaintances with shared interests, but never—

"Then we are now," Itachi said simply.

Sasori offered him a nod, the frost in his eyes melting a bit. "I was hoping not to get too attached in times like these."

"Better to be too attached than to be not attached at all," Itachi advised. "Sometimes, I think you see yourself as one of the puppets you create, and not an actual human being. One that can experience the same emotions that I and everyone else do."

"Emotion?" Sasori closed his eyes. "I'm familiar with emotion. Especially..." He opened his brown eyes, his gaze sharp as flint. "Pride and cockiness."

"You're burning," Itachi said abruptly. "You're on fire but you don't know it."

"Burning?" Sasori frowned before his facial features relaxed. "Yes, I suppose I am." I'm on fire and I can't feel a thing... how poetic of you, Itachi. But I am not as much of a lifeless puppet as you seem to think I am.

Some raised voices came from the outside and Itachi stood, giving Sasori a glance. "Get someone to escort you back up. Hanabi-chan knows the lock configuration. Perhaps you can ask her. The next time you come around, Sasori... please tell me everything you know about Sasuke. No one else has been able to get close to central."

Sasori, who was halfway out the door, paused. "You might not hear what you want to hear."

"Is he dead?"

"No."

"Then tell me. But not now." Itachi swept past him, red and black Akatsuki cloak flowing behind him in a majestic display. "Until next time, my friend."

"Until next time," Sasori promised, and the man who was on fire parted ways with Uchiha Itachi.

Hitomi woke up early in the morning to go to the bathroom. As she was returning to bed (Deidara's bed; the woman was sleeping on the couch), a sight made her pause. The sun was beginning to rise behind the clothes, and there was a single crepuscular ray shining upon the covered training dummy in the corner of the apartment.

Hesitating, Hitomi changed course and, her feet nigh silent against the cold concrete ground, she approached the training dummy, pulling the sheet off.

It was taller than her, and stood majestically in the room, its wooden arms appearing sleek but used. Hitomi stared at it a little while longer, not daring to touch it lest she be hurt or wake Deidara up. Then she shook her head and, standing on her toes, tossed the cloth over it again before going back to bed.

Unbeknownst to her, Deidara had woken up the moment Hitomi flushed the toilet. While she remained draped over her couch like a lazy jungle cat, her piercing blue eyes had been watching her the whole time.

A/N: Sasori and Chiyo are allied with the Underground Faction. Obito and Rin are approaching bankruptcy but are still keeping the cotton mill in production. Ino is traumatized. Shikamaru is clueless and scared of what he will find. Sakura is tired of being groped. Hitomi can't stand cold water. And what on earth is going on with Sasuke and Shisui? Itachi and Daichi are unaware of Sasuke's involvement with Tsukigakure. But for how long? Hmm...

And let's not discount Gai and Kakashi... they have a pivotal part in the story.

I just finished Violet Evergarden last night, hence the burning comments. I was crying 80% of the time during the anime.

Sasori spoke of pride and cockiness... is a backstory in order?!

If you're out there reading, I'd appreciate a review ^^

(Thank you, my only two reviews xD)