She awoke with words she couldn't quite place on her lips, her head lifting from her pillow as soon as she opened her eyes. But the world was off, somehow, her perception blurred and... confused.

Her right eye was quickly becoming adjusted to the light in the room, but her left had yet to do the same. Yet, she was not concerned, merely staring wide-eyed at the white wall in front of her. Her head aching from sudden movement, Deidara glanced around warily, her heart pounding in her chest.

The room was decidedly plain, containing nothing but the bed which she laid in and the bedside table on her right. If there was anything on her left, she wasn't able to tell. Moving her hand past the bed told her that there was nothing there but empty space.

Is this... a hospital?

It smelled like one.

To her right was a large window, where natural sunlight was streaming in unfiltered. There was a tree partly visible from where she was positioned, completely bare of any leaves or life. There was a slight powdery white dusting on the branches, however.

Snow.

She stared out the window before turning her attention onto herself. Her balance had been restored, somehow. Her arm was back. Did I just dream up everything? Awed, she pulled down the collar of her loose hospital gown, her breath catching in her throat as she witnessed the thick black stitches embedded in her flesh, connecting her severed limb to the stump. She ran her finger over it, shivering as she felt the bumps in her skin. Deidara stretched her palms, and the mouth on her left palm opened up, teeth gleaming and tongue wagging.

There was a slight discomfort on the other hand as lips tried and failed to pull themselves apart.

Deidara was almost scared about what she would find. Carefully, she peeled back the sleeve of her gown. She almost reeled back at the sight that greeted her. "They..." Her voice was hoarse and she could tell that her breath smelled like rot.

The hand-mouth on her right hand was stitched closed by the same black thread.

Ah. Resigned, she let her sleeve fall over part of her hand, her eyes dull. She brought her newly attached hand close to her face, her visual perception still skewed. But she could still see her crooked fingers, permanently bent, the damage Kabuto caused unable to be completely fixed. She almost laughed at the sheer irony behind it all. I won't be needing it anyway. I'll just... let it be.

There was something else bothering her. While she could shift her right leg easily enough, her left leg, from the hip down, was almost completely numb. Even so, she couldn't shake off the feeling that something wasn't quite there. She'd felt it before, when Kabuto had sliced off her arm (and who would she be thanking for stitching her back together like a torn ragdoll?), and her own familiarity with it made her uneasy.

A muscle in her jaw twitched as she pulled off the blankets, revealing a sight that shook her to the very core. "Ha... What the hell... What the hell is this, huh?"

The leg of her pants was tied off into a knot halfway down her thigh.

A ball of ice forming in her belly, she simply flopped her head back into the pillow, sinking into feathery softness.

She wanted so badly to laugh at herself, and the absurdity of everything. To cry at the situation she was in.

But she didn't.

"I love you."

She shut her eyes, that familiar prickling feeling forming at the back of her eyeballs again.

What happened after that, Danna? When am I going to see you again?

Her train of thought was broken when the door opened, and a bored-looking nurse walked in, staring intently at her clipboard. When she looked up, she startled, eyes widening.

"Oh—oh, goodness, you're awake!" Immediately, the nurse's eyes brightened. "Oh, goodness," she fussed, looking left and right before finally deciding to hurry over to Deidara's bedside and pour her a glass of water from the pitcher sitting on the nightstand, "here, drink up." Her gaze softened. "This must be really overwhelming, and I'm sorry for that. I'll be back. You'll get your answers from your friend and Tsunade-sama."

Tsunade-sama? Deidara's astonishment barely showed through but it was there all the same as she watched the nurse close the door behind her in haste.

"Tsunade, she—"

Deidara lifted her hand to her head, her eyes at half-mast from the jolt of pain that struck her skull. Damn voices...

Not even five minutes later, the door opened again—this time with more zeal than before—and a blonde, big-breasted woman strode in with the same air of confidence that Deidara used to have before the war. Still, there was an underlying fatigue and sorrow in her demeanor, one that wasn't difficult to find nowadays. She was not dressed in the traditional healer's garb, but rather a surprisingly casual ensemble with a green haori. Behind her, Sakura loyally stood, her hair color completely reverted from midnight black to cherry blossom pink. She looked less tired than she had been outside, seeming fully at home in her position.

At the sight of her, Sakura let out a small gasp, her pen tumbling to the ground as she lifted her hand to her mouth. Her eyes brimmed with tears, softening as she met Deidara's gaze. There was no pity in her expression, merely relief.

"So," the blonde woman began, crossing her arms. "I'm guessing that you have a shit ton of questions, but all of them will have to wait until after I examine you, Deidara-san." She went over to Deidara's bedside, lips quirking upward in a slight smile. "Have to say, I'm glad that you're awake. Faster than I thought, too. My name is Senju Tsunade."

Deidara's gaze met hers evenly, both weary and wary. "You already know mine, Tsunade-sama, hm."

"Smartass," Tsunade remarked before going over rudimentary check-ups.

Deidara let her complete the examination without any fuss, not unaware of how Sakura was squirming in the background, obviously eager to talk to her. The nurse who had come in with them was shooting the pink-haired medic amused looks.

In the end she was given the all-clear.

Tsunade was flipping through some papers as she said, "You're good to go now, but I advise you rest here for a few days." She cocked an eyebrow. "Of course, it's not necessary, merely recommended. Something tells me you want to get out of here as soon as possible, though."

"Yeah." Deidara arched her back and stretched her arms into the air, feeling her joints popping satisfyingly. "I do."

"Then what are you waiting for?" It took a moment for Deidara to realize that Tsunade was speaking to the nameless nurse, and not her. "Get a wheelchair over here, stat."

"Yes, Tsunade-sama!" She hurried out, patting down the front of her dress.

"Was amputation really necessarily?" Deidara asked bluntly. "How the hell did you get my arm back on? And what's up with my vision, hm?"

"Yes, it was," Tsunade answered in a clipped, but not unkind, tone. She heaved a great sigh. "Your leg was completely fried, kid. By the time your friends got you to the gates of Konoha, gangrene was already beginning to set in." The woman grunted, obviously displeased with something. "And then the damn Konoha Council were stupid fools about the whole thing, and your entry to the hospital was delayed. I'm sorry about that. As for your vision, you've lost about seventy percent of your eyesight in your left eye. And about your arm," she added when Deidara opened her mouth to remind her, "Stitching back on cleanly cut severed limbs is a specialty of my colleague's. Part of his kekkai genkai and a bitch to learn. Only he and I have any knowledge in it. He put you back together while I was working on another patient."

"But..." Deidara frowned. "Where did you—?"

"The Hyuuga boy collected it from wherever it fell. He's a keeper if you ask me."

Deidara momentarily faltered. "Yeah, sure." Frankly, she was just glad that it was back. She remembered the way she had treated Neji during the journey. Even now, she wasn't sure if she could completely trust him, but at least he wasn't a total asshole. She almost smiled. Almost.

But she didn't care about Neji right now. All she wanted was to know what had happened to the others. To Sasori.

Instead, she had to sit still while Tsunade ran over the details of the damage that couldn't be nicely healed. The tips of ears remained pointed—they forever would, but that didn't matter; her hair hid them anyway—and there were multiple scars—thick and thin alike—now decorating her body. The most prominent one was the crescent-moon-shaped scar beneath her left eye, the trough of the scar facing her brow. When Kabuto had inflicted that on her, he had scooped out her flesh as well, leaving a small recess of a mark.

It was ugly, but it would stay.

If only she could smooth it away like clay—

The nurse returned with the wheelchair.

"Sakura," Tsunade said knowingly, and the pink-haired girl nodded, taking the wheelchair from the nurse and pushing it to the bedside. Once Deidara was safely seated, Sakura pushed her out of the room. Tsunade didn't follow. Neither did the nurse.

"Everyone's been so worried about you," Sakura said softly. "I'm so glad you're awake." Deidara couldn't see her face, but she suspected that she was crying.

"How..." Deidara grimaced. "How long was I out, hm?"

A hesitant silence. Then, "A week. We were expecting longer, to be honest. It's a miracle that you're awake as it is."

A week. Deidara sank into her wheelchair, nearly sliding out of it. How much had she missed? What had happened to the others? To Sasori? Itachi? Rin? Where were they?

"Everyone's okay," was what Sakura said when Deidara asked just one of the questions flooding her mind. "My mom made sure that they were all comfortable in the refugee centre. We're all shaken, but we'll... We'll be fine." She sounded too uncertain for Deidara's taste. "But about Sasori..."

Her heartbeat stumbled. "What? What happened?" He wasn't dead. No—no, he couldn't be dead. Not when she was still alive.

Sakura sighed in frustration. Frustration at an entity that Deidara didn't know of. "As soon as we got to the gates, he was arrested."

"Arrested? Sakura, you better tell me what the fuck is going on here, yeah?" Her patience was growing thin, a trait from Sasori that had rubbed off on her. Or, rather, further into her. She'd never been very patient to begin with. There was twinge of phantom pain from her missing limb that she ignored in favor for intently listening for Sakura's answer.

"Deidara," Sakura said, "do you know about this past? As... As an—"

"Assassin? Yeah, I did. And I say that it means fuck-all, yeah. I didn't know him back then, but I know him now, and that's all that matters. He's not like that."

At first, there was a pause, and Deidara was expecting Sakura to stop pushing her right there and look at her strangely. But to her surprise, a soft, bell-like laughter escaped the pinkette's lips. "I should have known. I feel the same way, you know."

"What?"

"I'm serious," Sakura insisted, stopping at the lobby to fetch some blankets. She wrapped them around Deidara's small form. "It's cold outside," she explained. They exited the hospital, and Deidara was grateful that Sakura had swaddled her in all of those blankets. The white-grayness of the sky took some getting used to, but she adjusted quickly. She normally had her hair over her left eye, anyway, so it wouldn't take much getting used to.

It didn't mean that she liked it, though.

"We all know about everything he's done for us," Sakura continued, glancing skyward to admire the cloudy, but beautiful day. The sun was just visible behind the clouds. "We'd be fools to judge him on his past like that. Sasori's done bad deeds, but he's also done good ones. And, personally, I feel that the good outweighs the bad. Tch! But Konoha doesn't feel that way. It makes sense, but it's so... redundant. He's only killed one person from Konoha, anyway—a fishy diplomat. The rest is Suna's business. And if everything we've been told even has a semblance of truth, he was working on behalf of the Emperor. The Royal Assassin is known to be a position that you cannot refuse. A fact that should work in our favor." Deidara twisted her head around questioningly. "He's being trialed next week." She saw no reason to sugarcoat anything. "People are already talking about execution."

A wave of nausea overcame her, and she paled. "You can't be serious."

"I wish I was kidding. Even I have to admit that he's guilty of something pretty serious—but he's changed!"

"He has," Deidara said icily. "They won't go through with it. I won't let them, hm!"

"It's a matter of convincing the Three Councils otherwise," Sakura told her. "It would be unrealistic if he got off scot-free. That won't be happening. But we can try and lessen his punishment."

"To what extent?" She feared the answer, but she had to ask. "Sakura?"

"The best scenario... a decade of imprisonment."

"What?!"

"I don't like it either! But considering everything... I'm sorry, Deidara, but that's the best we can hope for."

Ten years. No—no, things weren't supposed to be like this. After everything they'd gone through, every battle they had fought—it would lead up to this? Deidara couldn't believe it. Couldn't accept it.

"There has to be another way."

Sakura sighed. "I hope so, too. I've spoken to my mom about the matter already. She didn't say whether she agreed or not, just that she'll do what she thinks is right. I have a feeling, though, that she's on our side." She bit her lip. "But it's hard to say."

"Your mother? What does she have to do with this, hm?"

"She's a member of the Civilian Council, one of the Three Councils. A very influential member, I might add. It... gives me a little hope. Is that wrong? To hope?"

Deidara stayed silent, staring at the path ahead of them. "No," she decided in the end. "Hope... that can mean everything."

Around them, people—strangers—cast her pitying looks. She ignored them. She ignored all of them.

Konoha was strange to her. It had been incredibly westernized in the past few years, and most of the buildings were of a pseudo-western design. It had it's own charm, and if things had turned out the way she thought it would, she thought that she would have liked to spend the rest of her life here very much.

She never thought that she would be spending it without him.

There was an ache in her chest. Like someone had carved out part of her heart with a cruel knife.

"Where are you taking me, hm?" Deidara eventually asked.

"My house," replied Sakura. "We're going to see my mother for tea. Kakashi should still be there—he doesn't know you're awake yet, but he has something to give you."

Kakashi?

"And before you get any ideas," Sakura went on, her voice growing a little disapproving, "don't mention Sasori to my mother. Not unless she asks or brings it up. If you push her too much, she'll turn a deaf ear."

"Got it."

For now, she simply sat back and tried to relax. A puff of breath escaped her lips, forming a white cloud that quickly dispersed.

Konoha...

It really is beautiful in the winter.

If a few tears of frustration—what did that beauty mean, in the end?—slipped from her eyes, she pretended that they weren't there.

Haruno Mebuki looked up from the soup she was stirring as her front door opened, sending a gust of wind flying through the house. On her couch, a silver-haired man was lazing, an orange book in his hands.

"You could have gotten the door for them, you know," Mebuki reprimanded him. "Kakashi, I'm talking to you!"

"Hm?" Kakashi lifted a hand up in apology. "Ah, sorry... I didn't hear."

"Of course you didn't."

Kakashi's antics didn't annoy her any further, though, as he immediately dropped his facade when he saw Sakura come in with Deidara. Mebuki simply stared as he watched Kakashi's shoulders slump, as he turned into the tired man he was.

"Deidara." His voice was thick with grief. Kakashi got off the couch, going over to where Sakura was closing the door behind them. "You're up." It was a poor choice of words, but she forgave him for it.

Deidara smiled wearily. "Obviously. How are you faring, hm, Kakashi?" He looked so, so tired, it almost physically pained her. A far cry from the man who used to scam Uzumaki because he was bored...

"As well as I can be." His single visible eye was gleaming with unshed tears. "Everything's been a mess."

Deidara watched Sakura go to the kitchen to help Mebuki set the soup on the table before answering, "Yeah, I've been told." Her jaw clenched as she glared at the ground. "They're seriously considering execution." It was a statement, not a question. "Those fucking assholes..." It was selfish of her, but Sasori was hers, and the Three Councils could, frankly, go shove their heads up their asses even further than they already were.

Kakashi remained thoughtfully silent on the matter.

"Soup's ready," Mebuki called halfheartedly. "Come here, Kakashi, help me set up the table."

"Oh, no—it's fine, I've got it." Sakura came to Kakashi's rescue.

"Don't you have to return to the hospital soon, musume-chan?"

"I have half an hour! I told you that I could stay for lunch, and I mean it."

"Hmph, if you insist. Make sure you use the good silver, dear."

Kakashi wheeled Deidara next to the couch, where he sat beside her. With a pained expression, he observed her as she watched the mother-daughter duo interact with each other, occasionally squabbling over the smallest things. There was... longing in her eyes, the same longing that had clouded his gaze when he had lost his father. "Deidara?"

"Hm? Oh—sorry, did you say something?"

Kakashi smiled sadly beneath his mask. "No. No, nothing." He flipped open his book again, only pretending to read. In actuality, he was worried for her. She hid her grief well, but not as well as he. Deidara, despite her walls, was practically an open book to Kakashi.

He did not blame her for it. None of them had had the time to grieve properly, not even after making it to Konoha. After they'd entered, it'd been an entire shitfest from there. Once Neji had been discovered to have a unique transforming ability, they'd taken him and confined him somewhere that he didn't know of. The same could almost be said for Sasori, who'd been arrested almost immediately after setting foot into the city. His face was easily recognizable in such a largely populated city like Konoha, as opposed to a smaller city like Akatsuki. His Zetsu arm was merely something that condemned him even further. Their group had almost rioted at that, and it was only thanks to Itachi that they didn't break out into a scuffle with the Konoha authorities.

And waiting for Deidara to wake up... It had taken a toll on many.

"Kakashi, Deidara! Lunch is ready!" Sakura announced, setting four spoons next to the four bowls of soup on the table. A plate of sandwiches sat in the middle of the table.

"Coming," Kakashi said automatically, wheeling Deidara over to the dining area.

Lunch started in silence—one neither uneasy or comfortable—the only noise being Mebuki's spoon hitting the side of her bowl occasionally, her hand wobbling as she ate.

Underneath her long, looked-after lashes, Deidara could tell that the Haruno woman was watching her like a hawk. Despite her age, her gaze remained sharp and calculating, something that she had to respect.

"You must be his lover."

Deidara nearly choked on her soup.

Well, she wasn't incorrect, but the disdainful implication was loud and clear to her—

"Hahaue!" Sakura interjected. "That was not at all what I told you. You're twisting my words again..." she mumbled into her soup, eyeballing her mother from the side.

Mebuki thoroughly ignored her daughter's protests. "Aren't you ashamed, Deidara, to be connected to that killer in such a way?"

By now, even Kakashi had balked, knowing that nothing good could come out of this. If he had less self-control, Mebuki's silverware would have bent underneath his gloved hand.

Deidara stared at Mebuki, a wave of icy hotness washing over her skin. Her pointed ears burned with the same heat as Mebuki continued relentlessly.

"An estimated total of his victims adds up to one-hundred and thirty-nine. And," Mebuki added pointedly, "that is the number recorded during the time he served as the Emperor's hitman, only. The number could easily be three-hundred. Four-hundred. Do you really think a man who has taken so many lives deserves to be redeemed? I take it that you've heard of the saying 'everyone deserves a second chance'? I will tell you what I think, Deidara-san." Mebuki's tone hardened. "What I quoted was nothing more than foolish ideology. It is, to put it politely, something I thoroughly disagree with."

Underneath the table, Deidara's fists were clenched. Images of the woman in front of her being exploded into a fiery blaze burned the back of her eyeballs, but she held her tongue, formulating a response in her mind. Kakashi and Sakura watched her with bated breath, waiting for the inevitable explosive, fiery outburst that would come.

"I'm glad you think so, Haruno-sama."

Kakashi's spoon almost fell into his soup, and Sakura was faring no better, wondering what had come over the blonde.

Mebuki's eyes gleamed. "And why is that? Do you agree with me?"

"In a way, hm." Deidara's eyes were flinty chips of ice, the same coldness reflected in her voice. "You're right—there are some people out there that don't deserve to be redeemed. And there's one thing that they all have in common." Mebuki inched forward. "None of them are willing to be redeemed. Second chances are given—should be given—not according to the weight of your deeds, hm, but how much you are willing to change. So, no. I'm not ashamed, hm." She paused before tacking on mechanically, "Haruno-sama."

The two women stared at each other with equally hard gazes. Next to Mebuki, Sakura was trying to fight off a smile. The way she defended him bore her feelings for all to see—and if there was anything that Haruno Mebuki wasn't, it was blind.

Mebuki hummed lowly, steepling her fingers. "I see. And you truly believe this?"

There was no hesitation on her part. "Yes. Anyone willing to change—willing to put in the effort to change—deserves to have a future, hm."

It was then Mebuki broke their staring contest. "Kakashi, Sakura, why aren't you eating? Your soup is going to get cold, and we can't have these sandwiches going soggy and to waste. Eat!"

"Hard to when you're having a showdown right there," Kakashi muttered under his breath, proceeding to quickly devour his meal anyway. Miraculously, he managed to avoid having any of them see this face.

Once lunch was finished, Mebuki cleared the table and said very clearly, "I suppose I'll be seeing you at the trial, Deidara-san?"

"Of course."

"Good. It'd be terribly disappointing if you weren't to show up."

If looks could kill, the glare Deidara was sending at her back would have ended her ten times over. But Mebuki remained annoyingly oblivious, transforming back into an unassuming homemaker.

Sakura decided to break the awkward silence that had ensued. "When is chichiue coming home, hahaue?"

"In a few weeks. He's on another business trip."

The conversation melded into the backdrop then, and Deidara turned her attention to Kakashi, who seemed to be waiting for her to do something.

"So," Deidara said, "Sakura told me that you had a surprise for me?"

Kakashi's eye crinkled as he smiled beneath his mask. "I was wondering if you'd ask. Come on—I'm taking you out."

A/N: I kinda want to write shorter chapters from now on. Meaning 4000-6000 words. I'll probably go beyond that at times, but writing 7000 word plus chapters are kind of draining.

To guest reviewer Tere, thank you so much for your kind words! It actually made me put this chapter out a bit quicker, and I write and post in real time.