"She's awake!" Deidara called over her shoulder to where Furude was making boiled water in the kitchen. Ami, who was also in the house, rushed over, eyes wide.

"Mirai-chan!" she gasped.

Deidara stood back, letting Ami through. The purple-haired girl touched the back of her hand to Mirai's cheek, a scowl of concern on her face.

Mirai blinked sleepily. "Ami... Ami-onee-san? Why... are you making that face?"

It'd been two days since Deidara had arrived in Mapleflame Town. The bell tower hadn't sounded once since she had first seen it, but Guitar Man was always in town square, humming softly as he strummed his guitar. Occasionally, he sang, even when nobody asked him to. Nobody ever seemed bothered by it, though. In fact, he frequently got small crowds of children and women surrounding him. Sometimes, there'd be men, too, all of them too old or sickly to be drafted, just as Umeko the innkeeper had said.

Mirai's condition had improved little. Her fever was currently under control, but she slept for long periods of time and would cough until she was too tired to even heave her small chest properly.

Ami huffed as she squeezed Mirai's hand. "I'm making this face because I'm worried, you know."

From the corner of her eye, Deidara caught how Ami's bottom lip trembled.

Kurenai's daughter tried to smile. "I'll be better soon," she croaked. "Okaa-chan will make me better..." She broke into a coughing fit, sending Ami into a silent panic.

Deidara placed a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, yeah." Without waiting for a reply, she grabbed a spare pillow sitting at the foot of the bed and placed it under Mirai's pillow to elevate her. Something in Ami's eyes sparked—recognition?—before her usual dour look returned to her face.

To Deidara, Furude Ami was kind of a pain in the neck. But at the same time, she was tolerable to some extent. Or maybe it was because—

"I'm going to the bakery! My break is over!" Ami announced as she hurriedly slipped her shoes on and ran out of the front door. "Please take care of Mirai-chan!"

"Of course," Furude replied as the door shut. She shook her head. "Ah, that girl..."

—she reminded her so much of Hitomi. Except, of course, Ami was still alive and breathing. There were no metal shards and shrapnel lodged in her heart, no haunted gleam in her eyes as she watched a Tsuki soldier blow a bloody hole through her big sister, annihilating and melting her organs and part of her spine.

Pushing the image out of her head, Deidara tried to pay attention to Mirai instead. The young girl had ceased her coughing but looked quite miserable. Then Mirai turned to Deidara, a small sparkle of curiosity in her red eyes. "Ne, onee-san, who are you?" It occurred to her that Mirai could not have been conscious enough for the past two days to register her properly.

"I'm Deidara," her lips quirked upward in a smile, "I'm a friend of your father, hm."

Mirai's eyes widened and she tried to sit up, but to no avail. She settled down, still a little agitated. "Is otou-chan coming back?" As her voice rose, her coughing took control of her again, and she slumped into her pillow.

"Stop talking," Deidara instructed, exasperated but not unkind. "You're going to cough your lungs out, yeah." When Mirai showed no sign of attempting to speak again, she continued, "Your dad won't be coming back in a while." Mirai's face fell. "But he got you something." Deidara presented her the colorful package, placing it on her blanket. The girl's eyes followed the present incredulously, mouth opening and closing as she remembered that she would cough until she was exhausted if she tried to talk. "For your birthday, hm. It's soon, isn't it?"

"Yes," Mirai whispered. "Yes."

"I'm sure it won't matter if you open it now, hm. Or you can wait until your birthday."

At that moment, Furude came back with warm water for Mirai. Carefully, she fed the sick child, making sure that she wouldn't get dehydrated too often.

"Ah, Mirai-chan's present," the old woman commented when she saw the bright paper wrapping. "I'm sure it's something wonderful, ne?" She patted Mirai's hand.

Mirai nodded, a little more subdued than before. She yawned, rolling on her side to get some better rest. Asuma's present was hugged against her chest.

"Deidara-san," Furude addressed her. "Mirai-chan's going to be sleeping now. Are you sure you want to stay?"

"I don't really have anything to do without Kurenai-san here," the blonde admitted, folding her arms.

"Hmm.." Furude stroked her chin, contemplative. "Oh! You could always help out my dear granddaughter in her bakery. My son—her father—has caught a terrible cold and won't be able to run the store for a while. Normally, I would help her, but I must tend to Mirai-chan."

A bakery, hm? "... I'll see what I can do."

Ami had been taught the art of baking when she was a child, her grandmother and father taking the reigns. It became something she enjoyed, but the thought of doing it day and night for the rest of the night had her stomach curdling in distaste.

Once, she had thought she'd be destined for greatness.

She still remembered standing in front of the mirror at age thirteen, her chest puffed out proudly and her hair cut perfectly even. Her father had placed his hand on her shoulder, nodding firmly, while her (late) mother had beamed with pride.

She'd been accepted into Tsunade's medical program—three years of studying and she would become a medic.

But then—

The door opened.

"Welcome," Ami started before stiffening. The door closed and Deidara walked up to the counter, glancing around the small shop. "Oh. It's you. Did you need something?"

"Not really." Deidara rolled her shoulders, getting a nice crack. "But I have time, yeah, and your grandma told me you needed some help."

Ami frowned, drawing back from her. "I... I don't need help."

"Oh? So is someone else baking the bread while you're out here?" The blonde tilted her head to the side, trying to spot any bakers. Ami blocked her view.

"Stop," the purple-haired girl commanded. "There's no one here, okay? This is a family owned business—only me and my dad work here. Besides," she turned her nose up haughtily, scrutinizing the blonde's appearance, "with hair that long and messy, I'd never let you step foot in the kitchen." Her own hair was twisted into a high bun, the long side of her side bangs pinned back. It was rather unsightly, if she did say so herself, but hygiene was important. In the kitchen and in the hospital.

Deidara made a noncommittal noise, removing her hair tie then retying her hair so that it was a bun. She pulled some clips out of her skirt pocket to pin her bangs back, effectively mirror Ami's appearance. The younger girl blinked, gears turning in her head. "Really?" Deidara sighed, exasperated. "You're gonna continue to nitpick, aren't you? Don't be so stubborn, hm."

"Do you even know how to make bread?" Ami spluttered, pointing a finger at her.

"Nope. Which is why you'll be doing that while I serve customers, idiot."

"Hey! The real idiot is you—barging in here like you own the place! Only an idiot wouldn't understand that they're not wanted around here!"

"Not wanted, maybe, but definitely needed. Your shelves are bare."

"Tsk!" Ami glanced back over her shoulder. "Fine," she said grudgingly. "Just don't... don't mess up."

"By the looks of things, I should be telling you that, yeah," Deidara pointed out dryly.

Grumbling under her breath, Ami ducked into the kitchen, grabbing an apron on her way in and tossing it at Deidara. The blonde caught it, looping the top part over her head and swiftly tying it around her waist.

The door opened, a tiny bell signifying someone's entrance. A young woman in her twenties, expression stoic, strode in. She took one glance at the shelves and racks behind Deidara. "Do you have any sourdough today?" she inquired, obviously not expecting an affirmative answer.

Before Deidara could answer, Ami came running out, flour on her face. "Yes, there is! It's right here!"

When the woman left, Deidara deadpanned at a heavily panting Ami, who looked a combination of stressed and pleased with herself. "You know," she drawled. "The point of this was so that you wouldn't have to be running around and pulling stunts like that, hm."

"How am I supposed to trust you?! You're just some strange girl who has weird hair!" Ami's face twisted into a hideous glare. "I'd rather have Forehead Girl operate on me than let you mess up!"

"You'd rather have surgery than let me serve customers? HAHA!" Deidara cackled, slamming her hand on the counter. "Man, I've met pretentious little shits, but never one quite like you, hm!"

"What... What's so funny?"

"You." Deidara's blunt tone hammered down on her head. "You're making a big fuss out of nothing, yeah."

Ami made an angry noise. "Then why are you still here?! Why are you helping me? What's your reason?! I mean, come on," the girl scoffed, "who would help someone like me?"

There was a beat.

"Well, why does a bird fly?" Deidara eventually answered, tilting her head slightly, her eyes at half-mast.

"... Huh?"

"Why does a bird fly? Because it's a bird. Duh. Also, do you have any gloves?" Deidara lifted her left hand, letting her mouth-palm beam. At Ami's disgusted expression, she smirked. "Wouldn't want me to dirty your precious bread, now, would you?"

"You freak," Ami whispered as she tossed a pair of gloves to her. "Nobody has hands on their mouths. Not naturally, anyway. That's impossible."

"Let me ask you a question," Deidara said as she put the plastic gloves on. "Have you ever left this town before?"

"I..." Yes. For the medical program. "Just Konoha City." And it's nothing like the boonies. Nothing like here.

"Then who are you to tell me what's impossible?" Her countenance darkened ever so slightly. "There are things out there, yeah, that you could never even begin to dream of. And I pray that you don't, you sheltered brat, because it'll be a nightmare, hm." Deidara hummed. "But if you really must know, it's something I inherited from my mother and father. I'm from Iwa, not Konoha. Considering you've only been to the city, you'll find that lots of things over there are stranger than fiction, yeah."

"Huh. I see." More subdued than before, Ami turned on her heel, marching back to the kitchen. Some moments after her departure, the sound of dough being thrown on the table was heard.

Only a few more customers came in that morning, and before they knew it, it was time for their afternoon break, which lasted approximately forty minutes. Ami and Deidara both sat on the edge of the fountain. Their lunch was bread, unsurprisingly. What was surprising, though, was how Ami let Deidara have some for free.

"What sorts of things?" Ami asked abruptly.

"Hm?" Deidara's mouth was full. She swallowed. "Oh, you mean from before? Hmm..." She took another bite out of her bread roll, chewing contemplatively. "Is there anyone you hate?"

"Eh?"

"Like," Deidara waved her hand in the air, "some bitch or something, yeah."

"Uh, yeah." Ami's nose scrunched up. "Totally. That stupid Forehead Girl for one—her name's Sakura."

Haruno? Wow, small world. "Okay, imagine Sakura. But now she's eighteen times more ugly than she actually is, has fangs as long as your arms, eats people, and squirts plant juice when she dies."

Ami almost choked on her bread. "What's so different?"

Deidara laughed wickedly, feeling just a tad guilty. "She can't be that bad, can she?"

"Some people just don't deserve what they have in this world," Ami growled. "And she's one of them."

"Oh? And what makes you say that?"

"Because... because..." Ami trailed off, shaking her head. "She just is, okay? With her arrogant, snotty attitude and her dumb, wide forehead—thinking that someone like her could ever hope to be a medic of Tsunade-sama's caliber!"

"But it happened anyway, didn't it?"

"... Yes. And that's what I hate most about her."

"Arrogant... snotty..." Deidara gave her a look that she couldn't quite discern. "I don't know her the best, but I doubt she's that kind of person, yeah. Sakura... she risked her own life trying to gather medical supplies. She taught my friend how to take care of his newborn and saved someone I love from being turned into a monster. Maybe we're not talking about the same Sakura, but she does have a pretty big forehead, hm. Also, she has a pink hair, which should be a dead giveaway in whether she's your Sakura or not."

"... It is."

Deidara took another bite out of her bread roll. "So," she asked through a mouthful of bread, "how do you even know her anyway?"

"We were enrolled in the same medical school. She made it and I didn't. I deserved that spot, you know! But she stole it from me!"

"Ah."

"That fucking bitch!"

"Mhm."

"I was supposed to be Tsunade-sama's apprentice. I was supposed to be out there saving lives! I was supposed to be the one getting recognition for my work!"

"About that."

"So why?! Where did I go wrong?!"

Deidara wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, eyebrows raised. "Why are you asking me questions you already know the answer to, hm? Or are you just really bad at conversations?" She laughed at Ami's incredulous expression. "Yeah?"

"How... Why are you like this?"

"Because you're wasting your life away pretending."

"Pretending?"

"It's pretty obvious isn't it? You won't admit that you're wrong. You probably never have. You probably never will."

Ami stared at her, offended. But Deidara wasn't done.

"It's okay to indulge in self-pity," she continued swiftly, a tinge of knowing in her voice. "But you're drowning in it, yeah, and you don't even realize. At least I'm..." Deidara sucked in a breath. "Trying to keep my head up. So that I don't end up like you, hm." She returned Ami's gaze evenly. "So why don't you try to face the answers to your questions?"

Ami stood. "Our break's over," she said curtly, a raspy quality to her voice. "If you still want to help, then..." Without finishing her sentence, the purple-haired girl stalked off, fumbling with the keys attached to her belt.

Like a silent ghost, Deidara followed, not unaware of how emotionally distressed Ami had become. She tossed the bell tower one last look before departing the square.

On the opposite side of the square, Guitar Man hummed as he strummed his guitar.

Hanabi wasn't oblivious. She had noticed how Moegi, Konohamaru, and Udon seemed to be huddling and whispering more often, disappearing to unknown places after school had ended.

"Hanabi-chan!" trilled the parasite that had decided to attach herself to the Hyuuga. Enomoto Madoka never seemed to catch on to Hanabi's active dislike of her.

"Go away," Hanabi ordered.

"Let's go eat ramen!"

Is she deaf or stupid?

"Not now," the Hyuuga girl said irritably. "I have something to do." Namely where those three keep sneaking off to.

"Maybe next time then!"

Hanabi deadpanned. "Yeah, sure."

Enomoto beamed at her before running off, her backpack bouncing merrily along with her.

"... Weirdo."

She shook her head. No time for that. I saw those three heading down a side street. Moving deftly, she followed their trail until they came into sight, talking with an old woman on her porch. Narrowing her eyes, Hanabi snuck closer, pressing herself against the wall.

"So your house isn't fortified?" Udon sounded horrified.

"It's the same for every other house in this neighborhood," the old woman answered, a tinge of annoyance in her voice. "Who are you children anyway?"

Moegi was pulling her friends away. "Never mind that," she said hurriedly. "Let's go, guys."

Why would they want to know that? Hanabi blinked, bewildered. The old woman shut her door, grumbling about nosy children disturbing her peace. She followed them for another hour; they approached multiple people from all sorts of neighborhoods, asking eerily similar questions with concerned expressions on their places.

Eventually, they stopped to have lunch in the late afternoon at a small shop that sold dumplings. After the waitress left, having taken their order, Hanabi slipped into a free seat on their table. Ignoring that stunned visages, she got straight to the point. "What are you guys doing?" she demanded, crossing her arms. "Is there a reason behind your harassment of multiple people today?"

"You!" Konohamaru burst out. "You were following us?"

"Obviously," Moegi and Hanabi said at the same time, sharing a brief glance.

Hanabi huffed. "Well?"

"What we're doing is none of your business," Moegi said coolly, returning Hanabi's steely stare.

"It is when you're asking civilians questions that make me think that you three know more than you're letting on." They thanked the waitress when she came back with a plate of gyoza. Hanabi went on, "Asking if their houses are fortified? If they know where their relatives are? If they know how to get out of the city? It makes me think..." Hanabi laced her fingers together, eyes narrowed into slits. "That the city's going to be under attack."

By now, Udon was sweating, though he tried to maintain his composure. "Under attack?" He tried to sound snarky. "That's silly."

"But not implausible," Hanabi shot back. "What's going on?"

The three older kids exchanged glances.

Then Moegi sighed. "We don't know for sure. But Kakashi-san left us a pretty daunting message."

Hanabi inched forward, picking up a gyoza with her chopsticks as she gave them a pretty smile. "Tell me everything."

Tenten stretched, reaching for the sky. The rain had let up not long ago, and she had decided to leave the refugee centre for some air. With all the bombshells that had been dropped in the past months, she really needed a break. Neji's kidnapping still sat at the back of her mind though, like a squat toad in the middle of a flower garden.

As she walked through town, she passed by some familiar faces. Karin waved at her as she walked past with an unfamiliar brown-haired girl, and when she turned the next corner, she saw Kisame strolling down the street with his shadow, Chihiro, by his side. Grinning, she caught up to them, catching Chihiro by surprise when she clapped her shoulders with her hands.

"Hey guys," she said. "Where are you two headed off to?"

"Gai's dojo!" Chihiro answered, barely able to contain his excitement. "It opened two days ago, but we haven't checked it out yet."

Kisame nodded in affirmation, baring his filed teeth in a shark-like grin. "Honestly, I'm looking forward to seeing his teaching style more than anything else."

Tenten took Chihiro's hand just as Kisame took hold of her other one. Pleased from the attention, Chihiro dragged them both along as if they were her worn out parents.

"That's right," Tenten remembered, eyes widening a little, "You used to be a dojo master back in Akatsuki. How did that work out for you anyway?"

The shark-man shrugged, nonchalant. "Now, it means little to me. But..." Kisame trailed off. "Back then, it was everything. My disciples were my pride and joy. I took great care of my reputation... When it was destroyed, I became blinded with rage." He laughed. "It seems all so silly now. How strange, huh?"

Tenten thought back to her own time in Akatsuki—back then, it'd been her and the orphans, with her in charge when Iruka and the other senior workers weren't around. It had been a gloomy life, but she'd been content with it. And when the war came to their city, it had been nothing but misery.

Now Naruto had gone to Uzushio City to live with his mother and cousin, Konohamaru had discovered that he had an uncle, and Gai had taken custody of Lee. But Moegi and Udon lived at the refugee centre with her, and she still saw Chihiro often, too, though she liked to spend time with Kisame. The man was almost like a father to her.

"Yeah," she agreed as a colorful building that could only be Gai's dojo appeared in her line of sight, "It is strange, isn't it?"

What was even stranger, however, was what they saw next.

Walking into the courtyard—

They caught the attention of all forty of Gai's students, ages ranging from as young as twelve to as old as sixty.

And all of them were male, had bowl cuts, and were wearing green spandex with orange leg warmers.

Kisame's jaw slackened. "Holy shit."

"That's a bad word," Chihiro chided, excited by this odd, out of the ordinary sight. "We're going to have to add another swear jar."

"Holy shit," Tenten echoed, stunned.

"GREETINGS!" all forty of Gai's students screamed enthusiastically. "WELCOME TO MAITO GAI'S DOJO OF YOUTH!"

"Ah. It's raining today."

Itachi glanced up at the weeping clouds, indifferent. Then he opened a black umbrella and walked out. Izuna was in his baby sling, squashed comfortably against Itachi's chest. The baby cooed occasionally, making Itachi smile a little.

They arrived at the hospital sometime later, Itachi shaking rain off his umbrella before entering the waiting room.

Half an hour later, a woman walked out in tears, and a nurse approached him. "Tsunade-sama will see you now," she informed him.

"Hai." He stood, Izuna gurgling at the movement; the infant reached for Itachi's side bangs, yanking at them painfully. "Itai," Itachi expressed rather tonelessly. But he made no move to stop him, even tilting his neck to allow Izuna easier access to his hair.

But the tomfoolery stopped as soon as he stepped into the Hokage's doctor's office. Even Izuna seemed to sense the change in atmosphere, withdrawing back into the baby sling and shifting.

The blinds had been pulled up, allowing Itachi to see the gray clouds outside, rain trickling down the window. "Take a seat," the Hokage commanded, spinning in her chair to sign some prescriptions. Itachi waited for her to finish patiently, passing time by squishing Izuna's chubby cheek with his pointer finger, a small blush arising on his cheeks. So cute.

Finally, Tsunade put her pen down and met Itachi's gaze.

"I'm afraid I don't have good news," she stated bluntly.

"I suspected," he replied, keeping his tone neutral. Momentarily, he glanced at Izuna. "Tsunade-sama..."

The rain drowned out any possibility of people outside listening on their conversation.

Day four in Mapleflame Town and Kurenai still hadn't returned.

"What's the holdup, hm?" Deidara asked Ami as the younger girl fed Mirai some cough medicine. She was seated next to Mirai's bedside today. The girl spent most of her time resting or coughing, but Deidara was patient enough to read her a story or two.

"We received a telegram from her last night," Ami informed her shortly, her eyes growing a little softer when Mirai blinked sleepily up at her. "There was a delay with the antitoxin—she won't be back until next week."

"Damn. I'm going to run out of books to read to you, Mirai-chan."

Mirai tried to muster a smile. "That's okay," she whispered hoarsely, barely able to speak.

Half an hour later, Deidara had almost finished a fairy tale when Mirai nodded off.

It was a Saturday today, so the bakery was closed; Ami watched her close her eyes with a troubled gaze.

"What's wrong with her, anyway?" Deidara asked after some silence, closing the book shut.

"Diphtheria."

"Hm."

Ami sighed. "The closest town which supplies the antitoxin is where Kurenai-san is at right now. I just hope it gets here soon. Before..."

"Yeah." Deidara's gaze lingered on the present which Mirai was still hugging. She hadn't opened it yet—was saving it for her birthday, which was Friday next week. "I hope so, too."

"She has to survive." Ami glared at Deidara, as if it were her fault that Mirai was sick. "She's not like Sakura. She deserves the world."

"Still hung up on Sakura, huh?"

"Tch. Not really. But that doesn't mean I have to like her."

"In any case," Deidara waved her barbed words off, "The world isn't ready for anyone to be deserving of it yet, yeah."

"What makes you say that?"

"Pfft. Have you been living under a rock, hm?" She jabbed her thumb toward the window for emphasis. "In case it's escaped your notice, there's a war going on."

Ami blinked slowly. Then she relaxed. "It won't reach here," she said, sounding sure of it. "Mirai can grow up without worrying about the fighting."

Deidara frowned. "What a naive mentality."

"What?"

"Do you really think that war will never touch these shores?" Deidara said sharply. "Because if things escalate—if Konoha starts being pushed back by Tsuki—then it will."

"You don't know that."

Her voice was steel. "I know enough," Deidara answered levelly. "I was just like you once. Living in safety without even thinking of what the hell was going on around me. But at this point, I've been displaced from my home twice without any sort of buildup, hm. When war comes to earth, nowhere is truly safe. So until this one ends, Mirai doesn't deserve the world."

"Wait!" Ami snapped. "Maybe you've seen more than me—maybe you've heard more, experienced more...! But that doesn't mean," her voice broke a little, "That doesn't mean that we haven't felt the effects of war. Yes, you're right. For me, it's never felt real. My father has always had a weak constitution, so he wasn't drafted. But everyone else is feeling it!

"Before you came here... Before the war started, everything was happy! Everyone was happy except me!"

"And there it is," Deidara mused aloud. "You've always been a miserable person, haven't you? Hm?"

Ami flinched, as if she had been struck. She thought back to the conversation she'd had with Deidara on the fountain, Guitar Man's music in the backdrop. "What do you want from me?" she demanded weakly. "What do you want me to do about this? I can't stop war. I'm not a god."

"I don't want anything from you," Deidara answered honestly. "I just want you to know, hm."

"Know?"

"Know what you have. Because what you have is something many can only dream of." The blonde paused, thinking. "Your mother isn't around, isn't she?"

"No," replied Ami, feeling numb. Her mother had died not long after she had been accepted into medical school. Ironically, it had been from illness. "She died three years ago."

"Are you... grieving?"

"No," she repeated, genuine. "I finished grieving a long time ago. I miss her a lot sometimes, but... It doesn't hurt as much anymore."

"Oh." If Ami didn't know any better, she would have thought that Deidara sounded more subdued. When she looked over, Deidara's eyes were faraway, obviously thinking of something else. Then she blinked, and the clouded look in her eyes was gone. "Anyway," Deidara said, her voice a little tighter. "That's all I want. Because you just seemed so blind to what you have."

There was an unspoken part that hung in the air.

Just like how I used to be.

For Deidara, it was almost like looking in a mirror. A mirror that showed her a twisted reality—of what she could have become if the circumstances were a little different. A version of herself that she almost actually wanted to be, solely because Ami was living a life of relative peace and safety. Hitomi-like, certainly.

But when she thought about it, Ami's life was actually quite empty. And undoubtedly, her current unhappiness had been caused mostly because of herself. Her inadequacy that led to her being dropped out of Konoha's most prestigious medical program, her jealousy toward Sakura, the self-loathing which ran deep in her marrow.

But Deidara was Deidara. And she was glad of that.

"I know I'm selfish," Ami said finally. "But is that really a bad thing?"

Deidara shrugged. "I don't think so. At least, to me, it isn't. I'm pretty selfish, too, yeah." And where would I be, if I wasn't? Trapped in a burning building trying to dig Kou out. Dead. Many times over. His death still stung her like a fresh wound. An image flashed in her inner eye—Ami standing in front of the bell tower, praying. "Ne, Furude-san? Why doesn't the bell tower ring? The clock works just fine, hm."

"Oh." The Furude girl was visibly relieved at the change of subject."That's because the man who used to ring the bell was drafted and died. And, well, it doesn't seem right for anyone else to do it. So it's just been sitting there. Every day I hope that someone goes up there. But no one will."

"Why don't you do it?"

"Because... I don't deserve it."

Deidara said nothing, letting her words sink in.

"Did you know?" Ami continued softly. "Every time it struck twelve, three, six, or nine, he would put in a song, so the tower would chime. He was friends with Guitar Man—he's the blind man who's always in the square."

"Yeah, we've met," Deidara hurried her along, "But what's this about a song?"

"Ah. I don't really know the details, but the bell tower is built really interestingly. The towerkeeper would make the insides of the tower toll out a song." Her eyes glazed over wistfully. "It was amazing."

"Hmm..." Deidara sat back in her chair, pensive. "You said he knew Guitar Man?"

It's so cold in here. Shin? Where are you? Where did you go?

Sai opened his eyes to darkness. Ah. I'm blindfolded. Before he could further process his thoughts, there was a yank on his feet, and his body slipped upward. There was the sound of someone's shoes scuffling in the dirt before his blindfold was removed.

"Ah, you're finally awake." Sasori's deceptively youthful face appeared upside-down in Sai's view. There was a higher amount of malice than usual in his brown eyes—Sasori must have been getting impatient. "It's such a bother, you know, knocking you out all the time." He paused, cocking his head. "Then again, you'd probably be even more bothersome awake."

"Prickly," Sai greeted. "Or should I call you Traitor?"

Sasori scoffed, twirling a kunai in his hand. "Can't be a traitor if I never stood by Danzo to begin with. Old shitbag." He sat down on a raised tree root, watching Sai—arms bound behind him and his feet tied together—dangle from a branch with no small amount of amusement. "Will you ever talk? Or will I have to pry it out of you?"

Sai smiled. "Do your worst," he invited, no inflection in his voice.

"Let's start slow, then." His arm shot out, and Sai flinched when both of his kneecaps were suddenly dislocated. Sasori wasn't smiling anymore. It made Sai wonder. So he doesn't enjoy torture? How strange. "That's all for now. Have a nice couple of hours."

At first glance, Sasori had barely done anything. But the pain. The pain was excruciating, and would be even more so as the hours passed by—as gravity pulled his body toward the earth, stretching his body. As the blood rushed to his head. But still, Sai kept his mouth shut, resolve hardening.

Sasori hadn't sliced him open either, Sai realized. The blood would probably attract wild animals, which would be detrimental. Then there was the added possibility of him bleeding to death, even if the red-haired man was careful about his cuts.

Two hours passed by. The afternoon sun was burning his pale skin, and he had to shut his eyes. His legs felt like they were on fire, but at the same time numb in icy water.

Sasori was still sitting on the tree root, in a shady spot no less. He was using his kunai to carve another one of his wooden figures—this time, it seemed to be more human-shaped than insect-like.

Despite Danzo's training, Sai's curiosity was piqued. But it was mere interest, he reasoned, not emotion.

The assassin's eyes lifted, meeting Sai's gaze. "How's it hanging?" he drawled, smirking.

Sai blinked. Was that supposed to be a joke? I need my book to—ah. Right.

"You could save yourself the pain, you know," Sasori continued, totally unruffled and unfazed. "If you just answer some questions I have. They're not hard—even an emotionally compromised simpleton like you could understand."

He couldn't bring himself to smile this time. He felt too dizzy—his facial muscles weren't listening to him anymore.

"Are you wondering where Konan is?"

He had been wondering that, yes.

Sasori answered his own question. "I am, too."

"You should be a comedian," Sai said tonelessly.

"Is that some bite in your tone that I detect?" Sasori raised an eyebrow. How intriguing. He's losing it—slowly, but surely.

"No," Sai instantly denied, inwardly wincing at how quickly he had done so.

"Hmph. If you say so."

In actuality, Konan was tracking a deer that had ghosted them some hours ago. Apparently, she hadn't eaten meat in some months, and was eager for venison. Just as thoughts of her entered Sasori's eyes, Konan returned with a furry deer corpse, her paper wings flapping before rearranging to form part of her body again.

"What took you so long?" Sasori demanded.

Konan gave him a disapproving look. "You lack patience. Almost detrimentally so."

"I was patient enough to give him a chance." Sasori nodded toward Sai, who was still hanging.

She made an exasperated noise. "You might as well have crucified him, honestly."

"Too messy."

"I suppose."

A fire was started, drool collecting at the corner of Sai's mouth when they started cooking the venison, which Sasori had skinned and prepared with deadly efficiency. He left just the right amount of fat on the meat, too. He hadn't eaten a proper meal in weeks.

"Hungry?" Sasori turned to him. "We'll feed you if you talk."

"I can talk," Sai responded. "Just don't ask me what I can't say." There was a beat before he added, "Traitor."

"Stubborn one, isn't he?" commented Konan, stabbing deer meat through a long kunai.

"He was also technically my superior." If he were a cat, Sai was sure that he would be purring in delight at how the tables had turned.

The sun was setting when Sai was finally cut down. He had fainted by then, but awoke when his body hit the ground. He was sore all over and—

He hissed when Sasori reset his knees like he had done so many times before. Before he could gather his bearings, Sasori grasped his hair and pulled his head up.

Flinty brown eyes bore into Sai's inky black ones.

"Out here," Sasori told him, "There's no Danzo to report to. Seals don't work effectively when you're out of range, which I'm sure you already know. You are not my superior any longer. I control whether you live or die. You're just lucky you're more useful to me alive than dead, brat. Do you understand?"

Sai didn't respond.

Konan didn't even blink when Sasori punched him across the face, Sai hitting the ground painfully.

"Good," said Sasori, even though Sai was sure he hadn't even let emotion flicker across his face, "I'm glad we've reached an understanding."

Night was coming.

When Sai opened his eyes again, the moon was high, and Konan was standing above him, her orange eyes glowing faintly in the dark. Then she knelt, taking something out of her travel bag.

"Don't move," she ordered quietly, pulling his pants down. "I won't hurt you."

Confused, Sai watched her as she spread some kind of paste across where the swelling on his leg was. It was cold and wet, but it appeared to be some kind of woodland medicine. She produced a clean cloth out of the same bag, carefully wriggling it underneath the crook of his knee. Then she wrapped it around the herb paste.

A poultice, Sai realized, eyes widening ever so slightly. "Why?" he asked cautiously when Konan was working on his other leg.

Konan paused in her work, deliberating an answer. Eventually, she settled for, "Why not? Some kindness in this miserable world never hurt anyone. Sasori-san seems to forget that, though I do not condemn him for undertaking his methods. In fact, I see the point in them."

Sai was silent.

"We are enemies," Konan continued. "But that doesn't mean I'll leave you here to suffer. Not when you haven't really done anything to wrong me." She finished tying the cloth, pulling his pants up again and over the poultices. "Rest. Assuming that you will continue to withhold information from us, your days will undoubtedly be long and tiring."

Then she disappeared from his field of vision, leaving only the moon in the sky.

"Some kindness in this miserable world never hurt anyone."

Sai's stomach churned.

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews, Guest (3