The house was quiet. The house wasn't usually so quiet. So why now? She wriggled out of her futon, her entire body trembling as she took a few meager steps toward the sliding bamboo door. She hurt so much. Her arms, her legs—they hurt so much.

She sniffled.

The house was quiet.

The house was cold.

Keeping her footsteps as silent as possible, she padded around the house, searching for her mother. Finally, she found herself standing in front of her mother's room. There was a strange smell coming from it.

She recognized the smell.

Blood.

A hiccup rising in her throat, she threw the door open, a silent scream rising from her throat when she saw the grisly sight. Her mother lay sprawled on the bed, wrists slit and eyes rolled to the back of her head.

"Musume-chan."

His voice was like splintering ice.

Feeling her legs about to give way, she slowly turned around, eyes wide with fear. "Otou-san. Why is okaa-chan like that?"

Her father, face shadowed, gave her a genteel smile. "Because she's dead, honey."

It was as if her brain had been plunged into ice and stopped working right there. "Huh?" Vaguely, she knew the concept of death. Some point in time, someone had told her about it.

"She's dead and she's never coming back." Her gaze followed his figure as he walked up to the bed and caressed the corpse of her mother. Purring, he kissed cheeks. "Oh, my beautiful Yuki..."

She couldn't help it. She burst into tears, wailing at the top of her lungs.

Her father's countenance darkened. "Shut up."

She continued to cry, lifting her hands to her eyes to try and wipe away the tears.

"I said shut UP!"

"Why is she dead?!" she screamed at him, completely forgetting the wounds that had been inflicted on her. "WHY?!"

He snapped. "It's because of you!" In a flash, he had her wrist in a vice grip and pulled her onto the bloody bedsheets. Then he grabbed his wife's wrists and shoved them in her face, staining her forehead and cheeks with blood. "She killed herself because she hates you!"

Her head lolled before snapping up to meet her father's eyes. "She... hates... me?"

"Yes," he sneered. "She hated you so fucking much that she killed herself. You worthless brat!" She barely reacted when he slapped her across the face, sending her flying onto the floor. It was the rough landing that snapped her out of her grief, fear entering her eyes. Slowly, her father grabbed a pair of blood-stained scissors from the table. "You need to be punished for killing her. Let's do that now."

"NO!" she shrieked, scrambling back. "NO, OTOU-SAN, NOT AGAIN! DON'T HURT ME, OTOU-SAN!, DON'T HURT ME! AHHHHHH!"

Her scream pitched to even greater heights when he stabbed her in the shoulder, grinning all the while. Then he did it again. And again. And again.

"OTOU-SAN!" she sobbed. "OTOU-SAN, NO!

"OTOU-SAN, DON'T HURT ME!"

It was a bleak morning.

Yawning, Ami got out of bed, prepared to greet the day as per usual—with a scowl on her face and her hair sticking out in all directions. But ever since Kurenai returned, it had been like good thing after another—her father was now well enough to finally come back to work. As such, she could take it a bit easier today.

"Good morning," she said as she sat down opposite her father, who was reading the daily paper. "Is there anymore coffee?"

"In the pot, dear." He smiled warmly at her, and she couldn't help but smile back. "Thanks for holding up the fort while I was gone."

"No problem." Ami buttered some bread. "I had help anyway."

"Oho? From who?"

"Well..." Gee, how do I even explain? "A woman called Deidara. She's here on business, but she needed Kurenai to actually be here. Since she had time to kill, she helped out in the bakery."

"How nice of her."

Ami snorted. "Yeah. Nice. See you, otou-san, I'm going to see Mirai-chan."

"Be at the bakery by eight!"

Once upon a time, there was a pitiful girl, she self-narrated as she made her way down to Kurenai's apartment, combing her hair with her fingers, trying to fix up her purple mane a little more. She came from a decent background and got everything she wanted until. She knew she was spoiled, but she kept demanding the best from everyone except herself. And when she ran into failure, she tried to blame others for it. But I think, deep, deep down...

She paused in front of a florist, frowning at her reflection. Then she pushed her bangs a little to the side.

She knew that she had caused her own misery.

The reason she had dropped out from Tsunade's program—

I spent too much time shitting around instead of actually studying, while people like Forehead had their noses stuck in books every hour of the day and still only managed to scrape through in some sections.

I can't get those opportunities back.

So—

"I'm here!" Ami called and she knocked on the door.

What am I supposed to do?

Kurenai answered, her painted red lips pulled into a smile. "Oh, you're here, Ami-chan. Please, come in." Toeing her shoes off, Ami followed Kurenai inside. "Mirai-chan is already awake and reading."

"Oho?" Ami grinned before she peered around the corner, surprising Mirai, who was still in bed. "Boo!"

"Geh! Ami-onee-san?! You came!"

Instantly, Mirai had put down her book and opened up her arms for Ami to hug her. The contact was brief, however, as Mirai quickly complained that she was about to enter into a coughing fit, feeling that tell-tale tickle in her throat. Ami held a tissue to her mouth for her as the girl hacked. She was pleased to hear that it seemed to have gotten better, at least.

"Here, drink." Ami passed her the glass of water at her bedside table. It was still warm. "Sit up for me." Mirai wriggled into sitting position, gratefully accepting the glass of water.

She let out a satisfied sigh once she had drained the cup. "What are we gonna do today?" she asked the older girl. "Can we go picnic?"

"Picnic?" The purple-haired girl laughed. "No way! Not until you're better. And if you don't rest up, you're going to be here for a while. But tell you what," she added when Mirai pouted, "as soon as you do get better, we'll have a feast! Sound good?"

Mirai beamed. "Yes! Maybe even otou-chan can make it! He didn't come back in time for my birthday but..." She tapped her chin, thinking. "Maybe otou-chan can make it back for Recovery Day!"

"Recovery Day?"

"Yeah! When I get better. That's Recovery Day."

"Ah, I see." Ami continued to smile, unable to bring herself to tell the girl that her father probably wasn't going to be back anytime soon. The war seemed to be far from over, meaning that Asuma wouldn't be able to return for a while. She wasn't sure if Asuma even knew that Mirai had been so sick these past few days. Had Kurenai gotten time to write to him? It was unlikely, considering she had been scrambling about the neighboring towns trying to get her hands on the antitoxin. "Speaking of your birthday, Happy Belated! I have a present for you that's back at home. I'll bring it here this afternoon, sound good?"

"Mhm! Thanks, onee-san."

Her eyes drifted to Asuma's unopened present. "You still haven't...?"

"Nuh-uh." Mirai shook her head, staring at the blankets. "I don't want to yet. I want him to be here when I open it."

"Mirai-chan..."

"He has to be here. Every year, otou-chan and okaa-chan are always with me when I open their presents. Since okaa-chan is here, I already opened hers." It had been souvenirs from the neighboring town Kurenai had been in and some new books. "But if I wanna open this one, otou-chan has to be here!"

"Whatever you say, Mirai-chan. I've got to get going soon—I have work."

At that moment, Kurenai popped her head around the wall, looking slightly guilty. "I have groceries to buy," she informed them. "Ami-chan, could you please tell your grandmother over from next door to look after Mirai-chan? I have to hurry before all the good produce is gone."

"Oh, sure. No problem."

Swiftly, Kurenai planted a kiss on her daughter's cheek. "I'll be back soon," she promised. "Be good for Furude-obaa-chan, okay?"

Mirai grinned cheekily. "Okay! Cross my heart."

When Kurenai was gone, Mirai picked up her book and continued reading, paying special attention to the pastel pictures. After five minutes, she put it back down again, wondering where her babysitter was. Furude was never the type to be tardy to anything. I guess I'll wait a bit longer, she thought, feeling nervousness coil at her belly. She didn't like being alone for long—she was aware that she wasn't really that big or strong yet, and it was best if she had an adult or a friend with her at all times.

Fifteen minutes had gone by before Mirai's paranoia finally won out, and she crawled out of bed, the wooden floor feeling cold against the balls of her feet. Trembling, she inspected the whole apartment before opening the front door. Furude lived right across, so—

She gasped. "Furude-obaa-chan!" The woman was collapsed on the ground, her expression pinched in pain. Worried, Mirai knelt beside her, shaking her still form. "Wake up, obaa-chan! Wake up!" Oh no! I have to find okaa-chan or Ami! They'll know what to do! It never occurred to her once to ask for help from a neighbor, too convinced that only her mother or her purple-haired friend could be of any use in this situation.

Summoning up her courage, she puffed out her cheeks to expel her fear as she ran downstairs and outside. She looked both ways before crossing the road, heading for Ami's bakery.

Gotta get help fast! Please, please, please be around the corner waiting for me—

"Oof!" Mirai fell back onto her rear end when she ran into something solid. It felt metal, actually. "Oww..." Glaring up at whatever she had bumped into, she was prepared to give it a good tongue lashing. But the words never escaped her mouth, her eyes widening instead. "You're..."

"Hm?" Deidara glanced down at her before squatting down. "Mirai-chan? What are you doing out here?" She helped her up, and Mirai couldn't help but stare quite rudely at her appearance. "You shouldn't be outside—what? What're you looking at, un?"

"... Are you a genie, onee-san?"

"What."

"Your hair makes you look like a genie." Mirai shook her head. Now wasn't the time for genies! Furude needed her help, stat! "Do you know where Ami-onee-san is?! It's an emergency!"

"She should be at her bakery. What kind of emergency—" Mirai dashed off. "Oi! Don't just run off like that, un!" Her voice was irritable now, and Mirai thought that she was a little scarier than she initially appeared to be. Deidara caught up to her in just a few strides, scooping her up into her arms and sprinting toward the bakery. "Tell me what happened."

"Erm... uhh..."

"Seriously?" Deidara looked down at her exasperatedly as she passed through town square. From her periphery, she could spot Guitar Man minding his usual business. "Don't get tongue-tied now of all times, kid."

Mirai managed to get her act together just as they barged into the bakery, startling Ami, who was working at the front counter today. "Furude-obaa-chan fell down!"

There was a collective shout from Deidara (who nearly dropped the child in surprise), Ami, and Ami's father, who poked his head around the movable shelves that separated the counter from the back. "What?!"

"Yeah! We have to hurry!"

"You heard the little lady!" Ami's dad all but ripped his daughter's hat and apron off before shoving her over the counter. "I'll take care of things around here!"

"Okay!" Looking a little out of sorts, Ami straightened her shirt before joining Deidara and Mirai in the dash back to the apartment. "Deidara-san! Where is she?!"

"Hell if I know!"

"But I do!" piped Mirai. "She fell down on her doorstep!"

"Oi, Ami-san." Deidara cast her a side glance before awkwardly opening up her right arm. Mirai was tucked snugly in the crook of her left arm. "You're too slow, un."

"Well excuse me for not being some freak like you—!"

"So please don't complain to me about this later, okay?" Without warning, Deidara snatched Ami up and made a great jump, leaping into the skies. Ami shrieked in terror, not even stopping when Deidara's shoes—she was wearing simple taijutsu sandals today along with her green yukata and tan, comfortable pants—hit the roof, sending a tremor up her body that all three of them felt. "I take it this is your first time, un."

"Don't say it like that!" Ami hissed, momentarily forgetting about her gut-flipping experience. "In case you haven't noticed, there's a literal five-year-old here!"

Deidara snorted. "It's not my fault you have your mind in the gutter, yeah. And you'll be thanking me for this later—Furude-san doesn't have the luxury of waiting for your arrival, o'great medic."

At that, Ami fell silent, a solemn expression on her face.

"We're here!" Mirai announced when Deidara climbed in through the second-floor window and into the corridor. Sure enough, Furude was still on the ground. Immediately, Ami wrenched herself from Deidara's grip and made haste toward her fallen grandmother. At first, she seemed to panic, but got grounded soon enough.

Pleadingly, Mirai looked up at Deidara, who almost did a double take at the sudden attention the little girl was given her. "Onee-san, will Furude-obaa-chan be okay?"

"Hmm..." Hard to tell, honestly. She's old, after all. But Ami's been trained as a medic... Oh, what the heck. "You know what? I can't imagine a scenario where she isn't, un."

Mirai let out a sigh of relief.

Mapleflame Town had no hospital, but it did have a clinic. Furude was taken there—thankfully, she had only suffered a sprained ankle and a bruised right side. She had been knocked unconscious from the shock of the impact. No head injuries were registered.

While Ami explained everything to the doctor, Mirai and Deidara sat in the waiting room, silence stretching between them. Deidara sat without a care for any social etiquette, one leg crossed over the other, seemingly lost in her thoughts. On the other hand, Mirai (who had gotten a check up earlier and deemed fine to be outside for a little while) had already devoured all the picture books, and was sneaking glances at Deidara, wondering how to talk to her.

"Umm..." Mirai hesitated. "Who are you?"

"Hm? You don't remember me?" Deidara leaned back in her chair. "Makes sense. You only met me once or twice when you were really sick, un."

"Oh! Wait, I kind of remember! You read me a lot of books. But I thought you were an angel."

At that, Deidara almost choked on her spit. "Angel?" Hardly! I've been called many things in my life, from 'artless brat' to 'explosion-bitch', but 'angel'? This was definitely a new one.

"Yeah! I thought I was dreaming... 'Cause angels only appear in dreams, and I know I slept a lot."

Only appear in dreams? This girl... does she not know what death is? If she didn't, Deidara didn't want to be the one to tell her.

"Do you really know my otou-chan?"

"Yep."

"... You're not his new wife, are you?"

Deidara deadpanned. "Are you really sure you know what you're talking about?"

"Are you?"

"No, I'm not! Geez, kid!"

"That's good." Mirai swung her legs, her limbs too short to reach the ground now that she was sitting. "I really miss otou-chan, but I would be really mad if he got a new wife."

"I'll bet," Deidara murmured, remembering how much she had idolized her father, only to be let down when his secret had been let out of the bag postmortem. She wondered, briefly, how things would have turned out if Kou had never existed.

"I can't wait until he comes back," Mirai babbled on, unable to suppress an excited smile. "He's been gone for so long, so he has to come back soon!"

"Oh yeah? Are you going to throw him a surprise party?"

Mirai's jaw dropped. "Oh my gosh! I totally didn't think of that! You're so smart, Deidara-onee-san!"

"Haha, you think so?" She grinned at her, displaying her canines. "What—are you going to make him a present?"

"Yes! Okaa-chan taught me how to arrange flowers, and I'm sure Ami-nee can help me make something yummy for him. Maybe—maybe—! Maybe the bell tower will finally ring again, too!"

There it is again. Deidara lend half an ear to Mirai's chatter, her brow lowering slightly. The bell tower... What's so special about it anyway? She resolved to ask Guitar Man about it later, giving attention to Mirai once more. She was about to say something when Mirai suddenly tugged on her sleeve, looking a little shy. "Yeah?" Deidara prompted when the girl ducked her head nervously.

"Um... I... Can you come pray with me?"

"Pray with you...?"

"I want otou-chan to come back home before the year ends." Mirai's eyes went wide, pleading. "If we pray to the bell tower, maybe he'll come back sooner than ever."

Now that she thought about it, hadn't she seen Ami praying at that very same bell tower? She was itching to find out more about it, but for now, she simply nodded. "Sure. Do you want to go now?"

"Yes please."

Deidara ducked down to tell Ami where they were going before taking Mirai by the hand and leading her out of the clinic. It was colder than usual today, and the air bit into their skin. Deidara wished that the sun would come out, but alas, it wasn't to be. It was as cloudy as Akatsuki in the winter, the afternoon sun barely visible in the sky.

They walked in silence, their shoes crunching upon gravel.

The sound of a babbling stream of water reached their ears as they entered the town square. Immediately after seeing the tower's base, Mirai pulled her hand from Deidara's and tottered off to get closer. "Be careful!" Deidara shouted after her when she nearly tripped over her own feet.

"You seem well."

Deidara turned at the voice, a smile pulling at her lips when she saw Guitar Man just a few feet away from her, holding a bottle of water in one hand. He was sitting down on the stool he brought with him every day, his guitar resting against his side.

"I am," she told him, honestly. "Thank you."

"I see. So who is it you are with today, Deidara-san?"

She glanced over to Mirai for a second. "The daughter of a friend of mine. Mirai-chan, un."

"Oho, Mirai-chan?" Guitar Man nodded along. "Does that mean this friend you speak of is Kurenai-san?"

"Not exactly. I meant her husband, Sarutobi Asuma-san. She and I don't know each other very well, un." Yet. An interview with her was unavoidable. She would make sure of it.

"Hurry up, hurry up!" Mirai yelled at Deidara from across the clearing. "Deidara-onee-san!"

"Alright, alright! Sorry, Guitar Man. Maybe later—there are some things I need to ask you, yeah."

"By all means." Guitar Man chuckled. "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

Mirai stomped her foot and frowned when Deidara finally appeared next to her. "What took you so long?"

"Calm down," Deidara placated. "I'm here now, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but you took too long."

"Whatever."

"Meanie!"

Deidara clasped her hands together, craning her neck to see the full profile of the tall tower. She could not recall if she had ever prayed to anything before, be it deity or inanimate object like this. Perhaps she had. When she had been full of fear, choking on screams or drowning in grief, she might have prayed, or she might have cursed whoever or whatever was responsible for the way the world ran.

Closing her eyes, Mirai murmured a prayer under her breath, her fingers intertwined.

They stayed like that for a few minutes before Mirai finally dropped out of prayer position, breathing out.

"Who are you praying to anyway?" Deidara questioned, giving her a look. "Some god?"

Mirai shook her head. "Nope. I don't really believe in gods," she confessed. "But my prayer... if the bell rings again, then maybe people will hear it one day."

"I—I see." The words stuck to her as she took Mirai by the hand once more and walked her home. Kurenai was surely back by now, and she was certain that Mirai's mother had not heard about the Furude's accident. She was probably beside herself in worry by now.

Deidara was about to open the door to the lobby when Kurenai came tearing out, almost bumping into them.

"Okaa-chan!"

"Mirai!"

Giving them room, Deidara stepped back, watching as Kurenai scooped Mirai into her arms and held her tight.

"Oh, thank goodness you're alright! Igarashi-san told me about what happened." Mirai's ears burned red in embarrassment when Kurenai scolded her. But in the end, the older woman sighed. "I suppose that your heart was in the right place. But don't ever go off on your own like that again! You should have told one of the neighbors before trying to find me or Ami-chan. Nagano-san from just down the hall was a nurse in her younger days. Do you understand?"

"Yes, okaa-chan. I'm sorry."

Kurenai squeezed her. "I just don't want you to get hurt. You're just starting to recover."

"I know, I know... But I wasn't alone, you know."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Deidara-onee-san helped me."

Kid, Deidara thought exasperatedly as Kurenai fixed her piercing red gaze on her. Did you really have to drag me into this when everything was almost resolved?

"Oh, you're..." Recognition lit up her ruby eyes. "You must be the one who... You're Asuma's friend? We were never properly introduced. My name is Sarutobi Kurenai."

She stepped out of the carriage, eyes wide and holding the brim of her straw hat so that it wouldn't be blown away by the fierce autumn zephyrs. "Finally~! That was a long journey, wasn't it, yes?"

Uri turned around to beam at her friend, Kamizuru Manaka, who was breathing heavily as she hauled a huge suitcase out of the horse-drawn cart. On the other hand, all Uri was carrying was a simple bag that she slung across her shoulder. She was wearing a flowing sundress, while Manaka wore a more traditional kimono.

"Are you," she puffed, "serious? How can you still be so full of energy, Uri-teme?! Please tell me we're hitting the hot springs first, or at least going to our hotel!"

"Mou, I'm not that cruel, yes~! We'll drop our bags off before we explore!"

Today was Uri's twentieth birthday. Manaka was a bit older than her, having turned twenty-three earlier this year. Together, the two women—one blonde, the other raven-haired—walked down the streets of the acclaimed Mapleflame Town. There was only one inn in the small town, which was their first stop.

"Welcome to The Orange Bluebell!" the owner, a tall, bulky man greeted them enthusiastically. The downstairs tavern was full of life, people of all backgrounds, shapes, and sizes enjoying hot and cold drinks. There were many children, too, who stuck to all sorts of delicious looking juices while their mothers chattered like starlings. "My name is Itagaki Goichi, and I run the place! Are you here to stay?"

"That's correct." Uri grinned at him. "A room for two, please."

"Right this way..."

After collecting their room key and putting their luggage down, Manaka and Uri flopped onto their beds and sighed in sweet bliss.

"What are we going to do first?" Manaka asked, fanning herself with one hand.

"Well..."

Truth be told, Uri hadn't exactly planned out an itinerary. The only reason she had come here was to celebrate her birthday—she had chosen the place thanks to its fine reputation and famed flower viewing sessions. It was sheer coincidence and luck that her birthday happened to coincide with the blooming of the Mapleflame Flower.

"Did you know," Uri said absently, lifting her hand up and examining her nails, which she had painted a deep red. "That it is said that the flower blooms when the people are at their happiest?"

"I'm sure it's just a myth," Manaka dismissed. "I don't think flowers can sense feelings."

Uri laughed. "Well, you never know, yes?" She sat up on the bed, thinking. "It's a small tourist town, so there's no theatre here..."

"How typical of you to think of a theatre. Really, how does Masanobu-san even keep up with you?"

"He doesn't," she answered honestly, her ring finger suddenly feeling a little heavier than before. "I will cherish him for the rest of my life... but nothing will get in the way between my art and I. We are married, yes, art and I! What about you, Manaka-chan? With all the shopping you do, I'm surprised Kitsuchi-san can still afford to eat three meals a day."

"Oi, you!" Uri dodged the hat that Manaka threw at her.

They spent the rest of the day together, only parting when Manaka decided that she would prefer to look at a pair of shoes for forty-five minutes while Uri was itching to hit the book store for some inspiration for her plays.

"Oh, go off, you!" Manaka shooed her away as the sun was beginning to set, engrossed with the ruby red shoes. "We'll meet up back at the inn for dinner."

"Sounds like a plan," Uri replied agreeably before she exited the shoe store. As she walked through the streets, night markets were beginning to gain traction. She hugged herself, wishing she had brought her cardigan along. Being clad in the same sundress that she had arrived in was definitely not a good idea for such a chilly evening. Finally, she made it back to the book store she had seen in passing an hour ago. There seemed to be no one inside, and from how it was dimly lit, she was sure that it was closed. She sighed. It seemed that she would have to come back tomorrow at an earlier time.

As she was about to turn away, the front door opened and a bearded man with droopy eyes emerged, looking a little surprised. "Oh? Did you come here to shop?"

"Yes, but it can wait." She peered around his slightly stooped figure. "I'll come back tomorrow, yes—"

"No, no. It's okay. I insist." Fumbling with his keys, the older man—he seemed to be in his late thirties—eventually managed to unlock the door. He pushed it open for her, welcoming her inside. "I'm a bit low on candles; you don't mind the dark, do you? There's one on my table you can take and use it to guide your way."

"Not at all, sir."

She spent the next half an hour thumbing through stories, and only realized the time when night had already took hold of the world. Gasping, she closed the book she was flipping through and bowed hastily to the man. "I made you wait for so long! I'm sorry..."

"It's fine, it's fine. It's a nice evening tonight. Would you like me to walk with you?"

He seemed friendly enough.

"What's your name?" he inquired as they walked down the streets of Mapleflame Town.

"Uri. No family name. You?"

"I'm Kuboki Yasuji." He gave her a glance. "You must be a tourist. I've never seen you around before."

"Ah, that I am, yes."

"I see. Are you here for the flower viewing?"

"Mhm. They're supposed to bloom tomorrow."

"So I've heard. I suppose I'll have to put on a special song then."

At that, Uri tilted her head, confused. "What do you mean by that?"

Kuboki rubbed his chin. "How do I explain this...?"

"Take your time."

"I work two jobs—one at the book store, which I own with a friend, and another more... volunteer-like kind of job."

"Oho? And what is that job?"

He pointed up at the shadowy figure of the bell tower. "It's the best job in the world."

The moon was out tonight.

Sai liked the moon.

It was like a large, distracting splotch of white paint on a black canvas. It soothed every frayed nerve in his body and brought him better sleep.

A leaf crunched under a boot, and he glanced to the side, seeing Konan heading toward him. She and Sasori swapped for night duty every night—her turn would last until the dawn.

"Sasori-san told me about you," she said without preamble, kneeling beside him and loosening his bonds. Blinking in surprise, Sai flexed his wrists and ankles.

"Why?" He held out his hands, almost as if he were prompting her to tighten the ropes once more.

"I'm not heartless," Konan explained, her voice sounding almost gentle. "I thought we had this conversation before. Besides, even if you tried to escape, you wouldn't make it far."

She had a point. "What did he say about me?"

Konan scrutinized him carefully. "Who is it?" she asked in return. "Who do you fight for?"

"For Konoha," he answered immediately. "For Danzo-sama."

"Is that really true?"

"Yes."

"Fair enough. Let me rephrase it. Who are you protecting?"

A chill shot up his spine, but his expression remained immaculately unflinching. The delay in his answer was all Konan needed.

"Family?" she guessed, tapping her chin contemplatively.

"My family is dead."

"So is mine. At least," Konan gave him a strange look, "my blood family is."

Sai stared straight ahead, no longer looking at the moon.

"It was a massacre," she went on, hugging her legs to her chest. "My entire village was flattened. Unfortunately, my story is not uncommon. In fact, it's a frequent narrative you hear these days. But not everybody will take the time to listen to it. If they did," she exhaled, "then perhaps things would be different. But it isn't. In fact, it's almost the same. Even if the combatants are different, the nature of war will never change. What about you, Sai-san? Was it war? Or was it something else?"

He didn't answer.

Konan did not begrudge him.

But then—

"I never met them."

He blinked. Why did I...?

"Perhaps it was better that way," she said simply.

They watched the moon together.

"Your kindness is misplaced," Sai stated eventually, tone as clinical as it could get. "My loyalty will always lie with ROOT."

"I guess we'll have to see."

Sai narrowed his eyes a fraction.

Konan met his stare evenly before shifting her gaze downward and tightening the ropes once more. She stood, brushing her cloak off. "I guess we'll have to see," she repeated. "If you'll prove me wrong or right."

Sasori steadied his breathing when he heard nigh silent footsteps approach the sleeping bags.

What do you see in him? he wondered as the sun slowly rose. In the end... he's nothing but a puppet.

"Weren't you the same?" he heard her whisper, tensing. But then he realized that she was simply muttering to herself as she rolled up her sleeping bag, referring to him in her mumbling. He could feel her gaze boring holes into his back. "And yet you despise him so..."

He did not deign her an answer.

They say familiarity breeds contempt. Pretending that he had just woken up, Sasori stirred, sitting up and reaching for his canteen.

"Good morning," Konan greeted politely.

"Hmph. Morning."

"The prisoner is still secure, in case you were wondering."

He screwed the cap of his canteen back on. "Good."

But then—

Where would I be if nobody ever gave me a chance?

After packing up, they prepared to move on, Sasori hauling Sai on his back with relative ease. Then he paused, letting Sai slide down onto the ground.

"What are you doing?" He ignored Konan, settling for staring at Sai for a good minute.

Then he scoffed, undoing the ropes around Sai's feet. "You can walk," Sasori said curtly. "Or are your legs too fucked up now? In any case, try to run and I'll skin you alive."

Sai smiled, the action as plastic as Sasori had ever known it to be. "I understand."

Konan's voice was level as they walked. "I'm surprised."

Sasori glared at the path in front of him, refusing to look at her. "Tch. Don't be. The moment he betrays us, I'll hunt him down without mercy."

"I don't doubt that." She let him pull ahead a little. "Not even for a second."

Kakashi gave his companion a sideways glance as he fed Pakkun. They had all stopped in a grassy meadow for a break. "Is something wrong?" he asked, only able to see Kagami's back.

"I'm fine," she replied tersely, hugging her arms. "It's just chilly, that's all."

"Mm. No colder than the mountains we passed through in our journey, though. You're a strange one."

"And yet you agreed to work with me anyway."

"Only because you seem to have your head screwed on tight." Kakashi stood slowly, Pakkun yipping and nipping at his relaxed fingers. "Or am I wrong? It's hard to tell with that mask of yours."

Kagami finally turned, but Kakashi only saw that silly purple mask. "It's not falling off, is it?"

"No, I suppose not."

She yawned, stretching her arms up. "Then let's go already. We're losing daylight."

"Um, Uchiha-san?" Sasuke's head snapped up from his desk when he saw the Chief of Police looking rather nervous as he addressed him.

"Yes?" he said coolly.

Uchiha Sasuke had officially completed his 'training' in the Military Corps last week and was getting slowly used to being chained to a desk when he wasn't on the field.

But he had never seen the Chief of Police look so nervous before. Uchiha Fugaku, the head of Akatsuki's police force, would have never showed such weakness.

"There's someone here to see you."

"Can it wait?" Not that he wanted to do paperwork, but some things just had to be done.

"She... It's urgent. Judging by the look on her face, at least."

"Hn. Very well." Grabbing his uniform blazer off the back of his seat, he exited the cramped office he shared with the other common workers and to the front of the Military Police Headquarters. What could be so urgent? And who's 'she'?

The answer presented itself.

Sasuke stilled as he saw her. "Sakura."

"Sasuke." Sakura tilted her chin up, her eyes gleaming defiantly. "Or am I speaking to a ghost? It's hard to tell these days."