"KIBAAAA!"

Akamaru yipped as Tamaki crashed against Kiba, squeezing him tight in a hug of a choke-hold.

"Ow, ow, ow! Get off, Tamaki-chan!"

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Tamaki peeled herself off him, looking stricken. "Oh my god, you're hurt so bad! I'm sorry! Come in already, come in…"

Kazebaba's home was warm and whimsical as always. The old woman was sitting by the fire, stroking her tomcat, Shirogane, a solemn expression fixed on her weather-beaten face.

Tamaki and Kiba exchanged a glance.

Was this really the mighty storm witch of the east? The one of legends?

Kiba was almost covered head to toe in bandages, but even he looked livelier than her. The hospital had discharged him hours ago. Most of his wounds weren't too terrible—the worst of the damage was a broken nose and bruised ribs; his nose had been set and pills had been given to him for his ribs. The few doctors they had on the island had been more focused on getting Deidara into surgery, and had sent him home early.

There was still no word of her condition.

"I didn't see you at the hospital," Tamaki was saying, leading him away from where Kazebaba was seated and to his room. She raised a hand to swat away a stray bubble. It exploded into hundreds of tinier bubbles. "By the time I got there, you were already gone… I didn't see you on the way here either."

"Oh. I took the long way around, that's all."

"Oh… okay."

Kiba flopped onto his bed, wincing when he agitated his wounds. "Bad move," he muttered to himself, only relaxing when Akamaru curled up against him. Tamaki sighed in fond exasperation, tucking her skirt in as she sat on the edge of his bed.

"I hope you're okay," she murmured. "I'm so sorry about everything, Kiba-kun."

His eyes closed, and he longed to curl his pillow over his ears so that he could fall into a deep sleep. But that would be unfair to Tamaki—she would have had to fight her parents long and hard to even go out and see him at the hospital. Then she had come here in hopes of finding him...

"Why did she save me?" Kiba blurted, his hands clutching his bed sheets tightly. "I don't get it. I thought she hated me."

"I..." Tamaki swallowed. "If she did, she wouldn't have even considered it." She looked out the window. The storm had cleared up—Kazebaba no longer needed to create a reason for Deidara to stay.

Speaking of, Tamaki wasn't on speaking terms with her anymore. Not right now, anyway. When the old lady had revealed that she had predicted the events that led to Deidara being hospitalized and Kiba being beaten, Tamaki's anger was almost not her own.

Grumbling, Kiba flopped a hand over his eyes. "What time is it?"

Tamaki glanced at the clock on the wall. "Seven. In the morning, that is."

"Huh. Couldn't tell from all the clouds."

"Have you slept at all? Kiba, please tell me you have—"

"Relax! I got plenty of sleep at the hospital." Or I was unconscious, but same thing, right? The boy let out a gaping yawn. "I sure am tired, though. Tamaki, sorry, but could you...?"

"Oh!" Blushing, Tamaki jumped off his bed. "No, I get it. You've had a rough night, Kiba-kun. Rest well, okay? I'll wake you up when lunch is ready."

He managed a weary smile. "Yeah. Thanks, Tamaki-chan." I don't deserve a friend like you. Especially after all I've done. As the door clicked closed, his forced smile drooped. I'm sorry. I let everyone down. Okaa-san, Tamaki-chan, Kazebaba, and even Deidara-san. Even after I treated them like crap, his lip began to tremble, and he forced tears back (he wouldn't cry; no, not now, he couldn't), They didn't leave me behind.

Too late.

He buried his face in Akamaru's fur, the only person—or animal, but Akamaru was more than just a beast—that he would ever willingly cry in front of. Willing show weakness like this.

Everything had spiraled out of control before he knew it. Innocent people had been dragged into it and mortally wounded. Who had he been kidding? A kid like him handling a situation as big as this? But I didn't have anyone else. Kazebaba doesn't have money; only magic. And her magic can't heal people like okaa-san. Tamaki-chan's a kid like me, and her parents aren't rich enough to pay for okaa-san's treatment. And Hana...

Where there was once anger lay only hollowness.

I don't even want to think about her.

But his mind wouldn't listen, and he was forced back in time to the last day they had spent together on the island. The months after their clan's massacre on the battlefield had been announced and their mother had been sent back virtually a vegetable, Hana had been so distant that he would wonder if she had died with the clan.

It was pure luck that she was not conscripted; Tsume had groomed her for the political side of ruling, hoping that she and Kiba would one day co-rule the clan.

Then two out of three of the Haimaru brothers, Hana's dogs and partners for life, had been kidnapped by some heartless freaks—traffickers, most likely. He had chased the wagon containing them himself—chased it with her—but in the end, the vehicle outpaced them. It took a ferry for the other islands, and then possibly the mainland, and the kidnappers had disappeared long after they had sent out a telegraph to neighboring towns and cities.

It had broken them.

Hana began to disappear. She would either be at the hospital, visiting Tsume and demanding answers from the team of doctors and nurses caring for her, or... he didn't even know.

Then one day, he had returned home to find a note on the dinner table. All of Hana's medical textbooks and some of her clothes and other things had disappeared, too.

Dear little brother, she had written, and Kiba knew—he knew that note was meant to spite him and he was still reeling from it. I'm going to Konoha City to pursue a career as a medic. Don't think about coming after me—look after okaa-san instead.

And that had been all. Cold, concise, and reeking of entitlement.

Back then, he had thought it was just a cruel, ill-timed joke.

It hadn't been.

Kiba's tears dried up, that emptiness swallowing him whole as he finally fell asleep.

Kazebaba was out in the back courtyard, smoking her pipe.

Frowning, Tamaki observed her from the inside as she prepared lunch—just noodles and meat in soup. You knew everything would happen. You said it was for Kiba's sake. She had known that she was planning something, but not the extent of it. That he would never get over his mother if you didn't let this take course. But isn't this a bit extreme? She chewed her lip contemplatively before realize that the noodles were getting too soft in the pot. "Arrgh! Dammit!"

Smoked venison—Kiba and Kazebaba's favorite—sat on the chopping board, already sliced and ready to be put in the bowl. Now if only she could get these noodles right.

She served herself the spoiled, too-soft noodles. No point in letting it go to waste. As she started up a new batch for Kiba (and Kazebaba, too, begrudgingly), footsteps thumped and Kiba stumbled down the stairs, hair mussed up on one side of his head.

He wasn't looking too good, in Tamaki's opinion, but at least the dark circles under his eyes seemed to be a little lighter.

"Morning," he mumbled.

She chuckled, chiding, "It's afternoon, silly." Tamaki stirred the noodles for a little longer, placed them in a hole-filled bowl for the water to drain out, and then placed it in a bowl. Then she added meat and ladled soup into it, steaming arising from the freshly prepared meal. "For you," she said, and Kiba was already salivating.

"Alright! I'm starved. Could I have some more meat for Akamaru?"

"Sure." She gladly passed him some. "Just don't feed him too quickly, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. He's my dog, not yours."

"Geez, sor-ry."

As Kiba sat down, Tamaki smiled to herself, putting more noodles in the small pot. At least now, things were starting to settle down a bit. The storm was over, Kiba was safe and mostly unharmed, and Kazebaba was... simply being Kazebaba. The town would recover from the damage—hurricanes weren't uncommon around here, though the citizens had had little warning thanks to Kazebaba messing around with the weather.

"Kazebaba-san, lunch is ready!" she called to the old woman. She didn't move. Well, that was okay. Tamaki didn't particularly feel like eating with her anyway.

She sat down, and they began without her.

"Itadakimasu!"

Kiba was the type to scoop soup, noodles, and meat into his spoon and try to gobble it all up at the same time. Tamaki, on the other hand, nibbled her meat first, then her noodles, and then drank the soup. Akamaru, with no noodles or soup to eat, was content with gnawing on his venison slices, savoring them.

Even while they slurped their meals, they normally spoke and bantered.

But today, there was none of that.

A bead of sweat dripped down Tamaki's temple despite the perfectly temperate environment. "Hey, Kiba-kun?"

"Mmph?"

"Do you wanna go visit Deidara-san in the hospital after we're done? It'll be a nice surprise for her." I hope so, at any rate.

"Oh." His gaze grew dull, and Tamaki instantly regretted her words, knowing she had said the wrong thing.

"I-I'm sorry I assumed—"

"No, it's not that." Kiba lowered his eyes, absently stirring the soup. "It can't be any later than two right now. She's still in surgery."

Oh no. "S-still?"

"You didn't see how bad it was, Tamaki-chan." His grip tightened on his chopsticks, and his lips peeled back a little to reveal gritted teeth. "They messed each other up so, so bad. There was so much blood, and then she killed her own brother and—and she was crying so much." Now that Tamaki looked closer, he was actually trembling. "She had to. He was already dying the other option was to let him run loose and kill her and me and she was already so hurt—"

She lifted her hands to her mouth. "Oh, Kiba..."

"—fuck, this is just so messed up. I... I—arggh! Dammit!"

Tamaki's throat bobbed, feeling the back of her eyes start to burn.

"If only I were stronger than him. Then I could have killed him, and she didn't have to do it for me—I wanted to kill him for what he did, I—"

"No!" Her chair went toppling backwards as she abruptly stood, slamming her hands on the tables. She wasn't hiding her tears—they flowed freely down her cheeks. "Don't ever say that, Inuzuka Kiba! I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy! It was a horrible choice, but killing someone... killing your own family... God, Kiba, that leaves the kind of stain on your soul that you can never rub out! Maybe it's selfish of me, but I... I'd rather her have that kind of burden than you! Please," she sobbed, lifting her arm to hide her face, "Don't ever talk like that ever again... I don't want to hear a word of that bullshit because you shouldn't have to want to make that kind of choice. Promise me, Kiba!"

"Ta-Tamaki-chan—!"

"Promise you'll never kill anyone unless you really have to! That you'll care for yourself a little more! You were born to be a leader, born to love your townspeople... But don't forget that you're a human, too! I mean it! Killing someone... that should always be a last resort. You're already plenty strong, Kiba, and I know you'll get even stronger. You don't need to kill someone to prove that. Please."

For a brief moment, Kiba saw the moment from an observer's point of view. The heir to a nearly extinct clan and a common civilian girl, the latter pleading desperately. She was so sheltered. That made him happy. It made him happy that not everyone had to face the worst of the world, no matter how unfair that was. He expected the jealousy he felt toward her to multiply by ten-fold, but instead, it diminished as if it had never existed.

She had her own world and he had his.

But they were also part of each other's world, and...

She wouldn't abandon him.

"I promise, Tamaki-chan. I'm sorry."

She cried even harder—he panicked, but she held up a hand, giving him a wobbly smile. "I'm happy," she said truthfully. "Sorry, I just—sorry."

"We can stay at the hospital," Kiba suggested, following up on her original idea. "So that we'll be there when the surgery is over, and when she wakes up."

A nod. "Yeah. Should we bring flowers?"

He considered it. Is Deidara really the type to like flowers? Okaa-san would know... He felt that gaping emptiness that Tsume and Hana had left him consuming the fulfillment that Tamaki had given him just moments ago. I... I really need you right now. I miss you. Both of you, actually. Ugh. Kiba shook his head. "Nah. I don't think she's that type of girl. Now let's eat up, the soup's getting cold!"

And just like that, Tamaki saw him get back to his usual, rambunctious self.

But both of them knew that it was just a temporary facade.

Kazebaba continued smoking her pipe outside.

"What's going on? Okaa-san? Okaa-san!"

"Deidara?"

"Kou? Wait—Kou, okaa-san—!"

"No time. We must go, it's not safe here, children." The urgency in her tone scared them both, but they complied. They could smell burning coming from outside, and smoke was visible outside the window.

The door clicked open and three hurried figures rushed out.

But—

"Hey! There's more of those scum!"

"It's Bakuhatsu no—"

"Deidara, Kou, go! Run!"

"Where?!" Kou was sickly pale, and Deidara took him by the hand to the only place where they knew where to go. They rushed down the burning streets of the village, not even pausing when they ran past bodies.

"Okaa-san..." She was on the verge of tears, but Kou took importance. "Come on, otouto—to the theatre, okay? We'll wait for her there!"

She only called him 'otouto' when one of them was upset. Or both.

"A-are you sure?"

"Un!"

The theatre wasn't locked. There were no criminals in this town, and everybody trusted one another. Or, at least, they had.

Deidara pushed the vast double-doors open and sneaked inside with Kou, not even realizing she was holding her breath. After a moment of hesitance, she locked it.

"What if okaa-san comes?" whispered Kou.

"I'll know if she does, hm. Trust me," her teeth chattered involuntarily, "I-I know, okay?"

Minutes passed.

Nobody came.

Then there was a loud banging on the door that nearly thrust it open in one go. The children squealed, running for the stage and hiding behind the curtains, behind the stairs that led up to a catwalk, which led up to an open skylight.

The hideous knocking stopped.

Kou released an icy-cold breath.

Then the fire started.

The doors were destroyed by a flaming object flying through it, and everything was set on fire and up in flames in a matter of seconds. The exit was enveloped by smoke, and they screamed.

Another cannon.

"Bring down the building!" she heard a male voice scream over the roar of the flames.

"DEIDARA!" Kou was crying now. "Deidara, I'm scared! AHH!" The roof caved in then—they were being attacked from the top as well.

"Up the stairs!" Deidara pushed him. "Go, otouto!"

"DEIDARA—!"

"NO!"

Dust and smoke billowed out from the stage as they were crushed by infrastructure, their performance ending with a whimper.

The scene was awfully familiar. Blank white, clinical room. Hospital it was, then. Groaning, Deidara tried to move her shoulders, unable to feel most of her body. Unaware of how her face was sticky with fresh tears, she sniffed. Antiseptic and medicine filled her nose. The numbness of her body she chalked up to painkilling drugs, and...

Kou.

Okaa-san.

Kou.

Her fingers curled, touching the closed lips of her mouth-hands.

This is a nightmare. Someone, please, this has to be a nightmare. It can't—

A stone-faced nurse walked in without knocking. Unlike the last time this had happened, she did not startle or proceed to fuss over her when she saw that she was awake. Instead, her face remained impassive as their gazes met.

Deidara's eyes, hazy from drugs but still coherent, narrowed.

Then the nurse walked out of the room, saying, "Someone get the Head Doctor. The girl with the hands is awake."

'Girl with the hands'? I haven't heard anything like that since primary school. Pfft. The nurse's vaguely amusing comment gave her a brief respite, and she settled into her pillow.

"She's awake?!" someone shouted from the hallway. "I'm going in."

"Get your stupid mutt out of here!" The nurse.

"Hey, my family is the reason why your husband is still going down on your stinky ass every night—"

"KIBA!"

Deidara blinked as Kiba, Tamaki, and Kiba's dog—Akamaru? Her brain wasn't functioning very well right now—stumbled into the room like characters from a comedy puppet show. It was as if they suddenly realized their own awkwardness then, and they all stilled, coughing nervously and moving apart from one another so that they looked slightly professional.

The blonde's mouth opened but no words came out. "Um."

"Deidara-san!" Tamaki's voice was pure relief. "Oh, god, you're awake. I'm so glad." She beamed at her, and Deidara almost startled, wondering what she had done to earn the girl's affection.

Oh, right, I saved dog-boy's ass. Speaking of dog-boy, he doesn't look so... gung-ho today. Deidara frowned. Three guesses why, huh? She sighed through her nose, feeling unsure about this new development.

Tamaki elbowed Kiba then, and the mutt cleared his throat.

"Uh."

"Eloquent," Tamaki huffed, and even Akamaru put a paw over his eyes and whined.

And maybe Deidara would have spared a short chuckle, but didn't have the strength to muster one up. This felt worse than last time, and the last time she had been confined to a hospital a bed, she had been caught in a literal explosion.

"I'll cut it to you straight, yeah," she said to spare Kiba's fluffing about, her voice hoarse from hours of no speaking. Her throat felt raw, too—if only that damn nurse had given her some water. "Why did you come here, Kiba?"

Kiba, not 'dog-boy' or 'mutt'. He seemed to have picked up on the change in relationship between them. The boy palmed the back of his head, glowering at the floor. "I just wanted to say thanks, that's all. I... You didn't have to do that."

"Yes I did."

He was taken aback. "What?"

"You're slow, aren't you?" Deidara drawled. "If I hadn't interfered, you'd surely be dead. That man," my brother, she thought as her heart twisted, "was insane. He was going to break you, make you sign the contract, and then kill you and dump your body in the ocean." She closed her eyes, sinking back into her pillow even more. "I'm tired, hm. Can you leave?"

"Oh," Tamaki said, "Of course. We'll come back later—"

"No. Don't. I... need some time to think, yeah. Alone. When I'm better, I'll meet you back at Kazebaba's shack."

The two teenagers exchanged a look.

Tamaki started, "But—"

"We get it," Kiba interrupted. "See you in a few days, I guess." He paused. "Or... weeks."

"Don't underestimate the hospital staff," a new voice said. The Head Doctor walked in, his hands behind his back. "Run along now, kids. She's had a rough night."

"Hai!"

The noise around Deidara as the doctor checked over her and explained her condition to her was a white, incoherent buzz. All she wanted to do was sleep, and she had just woken up. Sighing through her nose in relief when the doctor left, she shifted her body to a comfortable position and closed her eyes.

She hoped she would not dream of them again.

Tamaki placed a cup of tea in front of Kazebaba as the clock struck midnight. She was sitting by the fire again, looking contemplative.

The younger female cleared her throat. "Why?"

Kazebaba's eyes shifted to her, and Tamaki gulped, never realizing how slanted and witch-like they were. But she held her stare, and her ground, and eventually Kazebaba looked away, staring deep into the burning embers.

"You know why, dear."

"There could have been better ways. Loads of better ways, Kazebaba-san!"

The old woman closed her eyes, frowning. "You don't understand, Tamaki. If this were only for Kiba's sake, then of course I would have been gentler. But it isn't. In a way, it's almost not about Kiba at all."

"Then who?" Tamaki's voice was disbelieving. "Don't tell me you mean Deidara-san! You didn't even know her until a few days ago!" She shot the woman a pointed look. "Or, at least, we didn't anyway. But either way, why would you let this happen to her?"

Kazebaba took the tea from the table, eyes at half-mast as she gazed at the rippling brown liquid. She stirred it, causing more ripples to form, like a hurricane tearing through an ocean. "Because she'll never be able to move forward if I didn't let things run its course. Sometimes, we have to look at the bigger picture."

"I don't understand. I don't understand what this has to do that that."

"You don't need to." She set her tea down. "But in a few years, you'll know. Stopping this... would have stunted her character for life."

"I..." Tamaki sighed. "Fine. I'm going to bed."

"Goodnight, dear."

She didn't respond, heading up the stairs without so much a word.

It had been a week since Kiba's kidnapping, and the sun had nearly set on a Tuesday when Deidara showed up on Kazebaba's doorstep looking worse for wear. The clothes that she had been wearing when she had fought had been singed, shredded, and torn beyond repair, but because she hadn't anything else to wear, she returned in the same clothes, a blanket the hospital had provided draped over form to preserve her modesty.

Tamaki gasped out loud when she opened the door. "You're okay!"

Deidara gave a wry smile. "Hardly," she returned, alluding to her bandaged hands, forearms, and the other bandages wrapped around her torso, legs, and upper arms that Tamaki couldn't see. "Don't worry," she added when Tamaki moved to help her inside. "I was given the all-clear. I even stopped by the post office to check if it was open, hm."

It had been, actually.

At last, she could finally send those letters to Rin. They had been piling up on her worktable.

Tamaki was warm to her, in a good mood ever since her parents had given her permission to stay with Kiba for the night. Without the forceful abolishing of the Axe Gang and the clearing out of the storm, they were no longer so worried about her safety. "We were just starting to make dinner," she babbled. "Kiba's making his famous beef stew, and I'm doing a vegetable soup."

She turned up an oil lamp on a shelf. There was no electricity in the house, merely lamps and the fire in the hearth lighting up the place.

Coming in through the door, Deidara had immediate view of the small kitchen, and also immediate view of Kiba wielding a knife clumsily.

"Kiba-kun!" shrieked Tamaki. "I told you that I would cut up the vegetables! I hope you at least washed your hands after finishing the meat!"

"What are you, my mom?" the boy complained, turning around and revealing that he was wearing a hot pink apron that was splattered with sauce. "Huh?! D-Deidara-san?!" Hastily, he threw the knife on the counter hazardously and try to pull off the embarrassing garment, Tamaki and Deidara both unable to resist a smirk.

"Kiba," Deidara acknowledged with a sly grin. "It suits you, hm."

"Aw, shut it." Grumbling, Kiba gave up on removing the thing and turned back around to hide his blush. "You better hope that I don't poison you or anything."

"I'll keep that in mind." She sat down at the dinner table gingerly, her healing lacerations aching. The welts on her arms—chakra burns caused by using extreme heat to melt off her clay arm guards and onto Kou's delicate skin—were no better, but she grimaced through it. She had survived worse.

As she watched Kiba and Tamaki work in tandem, having a surprisingly strong rapport in their dinner preparations, she almost startled when she realized how much they reminded her of herself and Sasori, when they spent their days in Tsuki-occupied Akatsuki making dinner and lunch with the meager rations they had.

Sasori.

It'd been a while since she had last thought of him, she had to admit, thanks to the recent drama. But that didn't make her miss him any less—in fact, the gaping hole his absence had left in her heart seemed to be more painful than ever. Deidara slouched on the table, resting her chin on her palm and observing the place around her. Danna will be fine. He always is.

"Mrroww..." A soft purr caught her attention, and she turned her gaze to the left of the table to see Kazebaba's cat padding toward her. Shirogane wriggled himself into her arms, the underside of her chin now resting on his fluffy back.

You're unusually affectionate today, cat, she thought. Deidara smiled and let out a sigh. Might as well enjoy it, I guess. While it lasts.

What she needed most right now was a distraction from her mind, which was tearing her apart silently. There were so many things she had never wanted to think about again which were not at the forefront of her mind. Sasori was one of them, but the rest were reminders that she had locked away so many years ago—Kou, her mother, the Civil War, Iwa's betrayal, the purge.

But it extended further than that.

Her father's unfaithfulness, Kurotsuchi and Akatsuchi's friendship, the tears she had shed over Kurotsuchi when she had denounced her as a best friend and moved to the capital to live with her grandfather, the Tsuchikage. All the plays and songs and operas she had attended and loved, the days she had spent in her mother's art studio learning her craft.

It was suddenly difficult to breathe.

And it was then that Deidara realized she was getting choked up. Letting out a shaky breath, she slid her fingers into her hair. Over what? The past? Is that really worth getting so worked up about? She had asked herself this question many times in the hospital, but had never been able to give herself a proper answer. I thought I moved on. Now it feels like I'm on a one way road back home.

Home.

Home.

"Deidara-san?"

She hadn't even realized Tamaki and Kiba were giving her concerned looks. The vegetables Kiba had butchered were now boiling in a pot of hearty lamb stock.

Deidara shook her head. "It's nothing, yeah."

"I chose the wrong sister to love, didn't I?"

"Don't worry, Deidara."

"I'll tell okaa-san you said hello."

Kou.

"... Absolutely nothing."

It's not nothing.

Kiba didn't talk much to Tamaki as they washed up the dishes, Akamaru chewing on a bone by the door that led to the courtyard (Kazebaba hadn't come in all day; was she okay? Of course she was). He was too caught up in his own thoughts, and Tamaki didn't bother to try and make conversation, knowing what that pensive look on his face meant.

It's gotta be about her brother. Hayate. Kou. Whatever. I owe her my life. But what do I do?

"Kiba-kun?" He glanced to Tamaki, who was smiling understandingly, and a little sadly, too.

"Huh?"

"I'll finish up the rest. You go up and talk to her."

"What?" His voice dropped to a whisper, as if he were afraid that Deidara had super-hearing. "Are you sure? What do I even say?"

Tamaki turned off the tap briefly to let the water drain out properly. "You know I can't answer that. Between the two of us, only you can. Kiba-kun, I don't even understand her. But you... I bet you'll find some common ground to work with."

"Well..." Kiba rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "I'm sure if you tried, you could find something," he offered lamely.

She gave him a knowing smirk. "Don't give me that. You think I don't know why I can't? It's because I haven't truly seen the world, and you two have. I'm sheltered, Kiba—we both know it, so let's not deny it, okay?" Smiling, she patted his shoulder, neither of them caring that the action dampened his sleeve. "I know you can do it. So what are you waiting for?" With that, she turned back to dish duty.

"Well, if you say so..." Reluctantly, Kiba turned for the stairs, Akamaru getting up as well. "No, stay, boy." Akamaru cocked his head, and Kiba knelt down to pat his companion. "Sorry, pal, but you're gonna have to sit out for this one."

Akamaru backed down, and Kiba was finally free to go.

But when he arrived at Deidara's door, which was ajar, she was lying on her side on the bed, her hair splayed across her pillow. Asleep.

Kiba hesitated. I'll... come back later.

It was what he told himself.

His ribs were hurting, anyway—it was time to take his medicine—and he was feeling rather sapped of energy.

But in reality, he cursed his own cowardice.

The next day, Kiba volunteered to bring her breakfast. Tamaki had left earlier in the morning to return to her parents, and he found himself missing her sorely. When his clan had died (and Hana with them as far as he was concerned) and Tsume had fallen into a coma, she had been the only light in his life. In a way, she still was. He didn't like to think he was that kind of person, but he might have ended his own life without her and Kazebaba around.

The witch wasn't talking to him at all now. He could smell the guilt but heavy acceptance that surrounded her ancient crone form. There were no more bubbles, no more grabbing Shirogane by the tail and spontaneously turning him into a frog or something. Good for Shirogane, at least—Kiba didn't have to be a cat whisperer like Tamaki to know that the tom hated being teased.

The tray of food he carried—an apple, some bread, and leftover vegetable soup that was still steaming from being reheated moments ago—rattled ever so slightly in his hands. Then he tapped his foot across the door in an awkward knock, blinking when the door swung open languidly.

"Deidara-san?" Kiba poked his head in. Huh? Where did she go? He sniffed, placing the tray down at a nearby table and walking over to where her scent was strongest. The window. It was slightly ajar as well. Before he knew what he was really doing, he pushed it open, feeling the wind on his face. It carried the scent of spices, smoke, and hearty foods from the street markets, which brought a smile to his face. He had always loved the mornings—it was too bad that he stopped enjoying them for a while, when his mother's condition and his sister's betrayal was fresh in his mind.

When he thought of them, it still stung.

And he wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing... but he was starting to get used to it.

"Hup!" He climbed out the window and onto the roof, where her scent was most powerful. Kiba grimaced at the distance between the roof and the ground before shimmying around the chimney, where there appeared to be no smoke coming out (but with a nose like his, he could smell it anyway, and he felt it warming up his face as he clung onto the brick).

Deidara was sitting on the edge of the roof on the other side, facing the ocean. Legs trembling, Kiba tried his best to maintain his balance and slowly walk over to her. Gah! How do they make it look so easy?! he wondered incredulously, thinking of Deidara's natural prowess and Tamaki's feline steadiness.

When he finally managed to sit down next to her, his mouth was dry, and he couldn't think of a word to say to her. So they stayed there in silence together, watching sea foam lap at the shore. From his peripheral vision, he studied her side profile, his heart thudding nervously. She was misty-eyed—her thoughts were clearly somewhere else.

But then she snapped to attention, her blue eyes sliding over to him. There was no surprise in them. "Did you need something, hm?"

"I..." He smacked his lips, and blurted out the only thing he could think of. "I lost my mom in January."

Deidara raised both eyebrows, her lips parting slightly. Then she pressed them into a thin line, but nevertheless held his gaze. "Why are you telling me this? We're not suddenly friends because I saved your ass, you know."

Harsh. But Kiba was determined to keep going. Might as well keep digging this hole, if nothing else. Honestly, it would be more awkward of him if he were to leave it here and turn tail just because her tongue seemed to be constantly barbed. "You're a journalist, aren't you?" he said gruffly, uncrossing his legs and swinging them over the edge of the roof, where they dangled lazily.

"You could say that. Okay, then, Kiba—keep talking, hm. I'm all ears."

He didn't bother asking if she needed that typewriter out with her. A story for the paper... that wasn't really what this was about, was it? He knew that, and he suspected that she did, too.

When he didn't continue immediately, she didn't press him, waiting patiently for him to find his voice and get his words together. Eventually, he started again with: "The Inuzuka Clan have always been the unofficial protectors of Sickleleaf Town. That's why we don't have police here. Although," he chuckled bitterly, "that will probably change soon. Anyway." A breeze swept through their hair, carrying with it aromas of the city. "Konoha joined the war as allies of Ame. Every able-bodied man from every small town or city like Sickleleaf was conscripted into the army. To spare the men of Sickleleaf, my clan," his throat bobbed, his heart starting to hurt, "men and women both... they... volunteered instead. There were enough of them to fill out the town's quota. Only my... my sister and I stayed behind."

Deidara had heard as much from Tamaki, but said nothing.

"There..." Kiba lowered his gaze, his mouth turned downward as he fought back tears. Had he even properly grieved for his clan? He had been so caught up with his mother, and Hana, and now Deidara and Kou and the Axe Gang. "There was an ambush at their outpost. The entire thing was razed to the ground... along with my clan. My mom survived, but the doctors say that she'll probably never wake up." That she's as good as dead.

They lapped into silence once more, Kiba silently grieving and Deidara silently processing his words.

Then—

"I lost my mom, too."

His head snapped up. "What?"

"It was in war as well. Although..." Deidara's countenance darkened. "Not in the way you probably think, yeah." At his questioning gaze, she elaborated, "My mother was a civilian. An artist through and through—she brought the stage to life." Her lips quirked upward slightly. "We were living in a little village south of the capital—smack-bang in the middle of the border between the north and the south side. During Iwa's civil war—it was innovation against art, north against south—our town was allied with the south side, hm. There was a raid, and..." She shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sure some people got away, at least. But she wasn't one of them. She was quite famous, you know," she added. "So instead of just killing her straight away, they went through all of the trouble of hanging her in the town square. Why?" Her voice was resentful. "Because they wanted to make a point."

Kiba's head was bowed. "Oh." When Tamaki talked about common ground... I really don't think she knew how morbid she was being. He looked up again to meet her stare. "What..." He swallowed. "What was her name?"

Deidara startled then, which in turn surprised Kiba. "Her name?" Nobody... Nobody's asked for her name in a long time. "Uri," she said finally. "Her name was Uri."

"Oh. Well, you know my mom's name. Her name's Tsume." Deidara could hear a little pride in his tone as he added, "Her name means 'claw'. Or 'talon'."

She hummed contemplatively. "My mom's name is plainer. It means 'gourd'. Or 'melon'." Deidara wrinkled her nose. "Huh. I never realized how weird that is, hm, naming your children after a melon."

"There are weirder names in existence. Did you know Tamaki's grandmother's name was Maneki? After the Maneki Neko."

"That is weird." Deidara chuckled, and Kiba blinked once before smiling, then following her suit.

But their laughter soon died down, and Kiba said slowly, "So, Hayat—Kou was your brother, huh?"

"Half-brother," Deidara corrected soberly. "He was my father's son, hm. My best friend's mother was his mother. When their family went back to the capital, Kou was left behind. My mom took him in. That's why..." That's why he called her 'okaa-san'.

I'll tell okaa-san you said hello.

She let out a breath that almost stuttered. "I never thought I'd have to kill my own family."

Now this... Kiba looked out to the horizon. This was something he couldn't understand. But he could try to reason it out, at least. "He would have killed us both," he reminded her. "You said so yourself."

"So?" she said sharply. "That doesn't make it any easier. Family... Kiba, it's—"

"Pack," he finished, and she gave him a look that was half-anguished-half-questioning. Kiba smiled sadly. "It's the most important thing in the world. My mom thought of this whole town as part of the pack. But sometimes there are exceptions. When pack tries to kill you, then there's nothing you can do but defend yourself. Even if it means..." His mouth was dry again. "Killing them first." Kiba licked his lips. "I don't know a lot, Deidara-san, but I do know that in this world, it's eat or be eaten. It sucks, especially when it's your family."

"You..." Deidara's brow lowered. "You don't know anything."

"Wrong. I do know. Maybe I've never taken a life before, but I know what it's like to lose a loved one. Deidara—" he dropped the honorific "—I've already lost my entire family."

Silence fell upon them once more.

"Sorry."

Kiba nearly did a double-take. "Huh?"

"For treating you like shit in your own home." Technically, it was Kazebaba's home, but semantics. Deidara looked him straight in the eye. "Sometimes, I forget myself, hm. I forget that I'm not the only one who's suffering in this world." In a way, Kou was right. I am selfish. I am arrogant. But at least I'm not him.

"I... Okay. Well, I'm sorry for robbing you. Y'know, that. I only did it to pay okaa-san's hospital bills," he added a little roughly.

"Hm. I don't care about that anymore." She closed her eyes and leaned back on the roof, Kiba's gaze following her face. She opened the eye that wasn't covered by her hair—the one she could actually still see properly out of. "You can't expect stealing to keep your head afloat forever, though. What about your inheritance, hm?"

"Spent on war efforts and okaa-san's medical bills."

She didn't respond immediately, frowning. "Oi, Kiba. How much do you steal exactly?"

"Huh? Oh, not much. Mostly pocket change, wallets kept in the back pocket, shiny things that I can pawn off, or money pouches like yours. Those are really easy to nick, by the way, so you should keep that in mind."

"It's also convenient for carrying," she muttered before getting back on track. "But doesn't it strike you as a little odd, hm? Nobody carries that much money on them. They have banks and stuff for that. Me being an exception, yeah. How much are Tsume-san's medical bills?" As she spoke, she pulled out some of her clay—just a small amount—and began to mold it in a round shape.

"I..." Kiba's eyes widened. "I don't know. I never bothered to check. Aika-san—the receptionist—is the one who tells me whether I've paid enough for the month or not."

"Hmm..." Deidara sat up. "Check next time, okay? Hospitals are expensive, yeah. You paying the monthly bill with spare change? Something's not right."

"I... I got it."

Just when he thought he had cleared his head and his heart, new, unanswered questions were popping up and stacking up the weight again.

"Come on, dog-boy. Breakfast's already cold, hm." Her tone was decidedly playful as she got up and walked easily across the roof, sliding off the edge and back into her window.

"Ugh!" Grimacing, Kiba got up on unsteady legs, hunched forward as he tried to gain balance. "Are you shitting me right now? Dammit! Deidaraaaa!"

She was beautiful, blonde, and had the loveliest cornflower blue eyes he had ever seen. There was a watercolor-painted drawing of her he kept on his person at all times, hidden in a plain, unassuming scroll. It wasn't finished yet; he was very delicate and careful about painting it.

He had captured a side profile of her, her lips pursed and her brows drawn in a sad, mournful expression, her yukata stained with red from a gaping chest wound hidden beneath her clothing. He had other drawings of her where she was whole and smiled, but her somber, pained countenance in this one stirred something deep within him.

One might even call it an obsession.

But to survive, he had to thrive on obsession, on passion.

She was his art.

Even if they only knew one another in his dreams.

Sasori was kind enough to kick him awake, face impassive as always. "We're here," he droned, looking at the village as the boat neared the shore.

Sai didn't offer him any greetings for this misty morning.

"Don't go spouting off our objective again," Sasori ground out as they docked. "Or I might just kill you myself."

"If you do, Danzo-sama will know immediately. We are all connected."

"Hmph."

Before the boat had even fully docked, the red-haired assassin had jumped onto the wharf.

Sai briefly frisked his own body before following with a grace little possessed, reassured that the girl from his dreams was still tucked away on the plain scroll strapped around his thigh.