A/N: You may notice a slight change in my writing here. I am no longer going to be using terms like 'okaa-san' or 'otou-san'. Basically, I'm toning down significantly on Japanese terms. The only words that I'll be keeping are words that have weird/lengthy translations (like 'Hokage' or 'Konohagakure') and suffixes like '-san', '-chan', '-sama', '-nee/-nee-san' ,'-nii/nii-san' etc., and speech-related things like Deidara's 'un/hm', Konohamaru's 'kore', and Naruto's 'dattebayo'. I flicked back through the previous chapters and found myself grimacing at my gratuitous use of Japanese words that have suitable English translations.

It was a gray morning as Deidara sat in front of Sakura's desk. The pink-haired medic was smiling as she wrote down her observations on a notepad before looking up. "Everything seems to be in order," she informed the blonde happily, clicking her pen. "To be honest, I'm pretty amazed. Normally, when a person loses their sight in one eye, there are all sorts of problems with depth perception and whatnot. But you completed all my exercises without fail," Sakura checked off a box, "I've seen similar patterns before in others who practice taijutsu."

Deidara cracked a smile. "That's 'cause you were too busy catching up with the Hokage to notice me walking into poles and grabbing at nothing the first couple of days, un." It had taken a while for her to get adjusted—she was just grateful that it had become a norm before she was forced to fight her brother, else she might have been killed. "So, you doing anything this weekend? We could get the girls together for a spa day or something."

It wasn't often that Deidara got to unwind with her female friends—though she wasn't as close to some of them as she would like to be, feminine company from time to time was always nice.

"Actually, I am, for once." Sakura rolled her eyes, undoubtedly thinking of the many problems and hindrances that came with her job. "The new interns from last month are in the final stages of their training, and we have enough senior nurses around to guide them through it. I can ask Tsunade-shishou for the day off." She gasped suddenly, remembering something. "Oh, that's right!"

"Hm?"

"Karin and Naruto are coming down to visit with Kushina, too! They're arriving on Saturday. We can invite them along."

"Naruto'll have a field day."

"Obviously not him." Sakura arranged her papers, opening a drawer on the inside of her desk. "Hey, when are you leaving? I heard you have another work trip coming up."

"Oh, yeah." Deidara stood from her chair, stretching. "I'm going to Uzushio City on Monday, un. I probably won't be back for a while, so I wanted the weekend to be a bang, y'know?" A sly smirk. "Don't worry—I'll make sure we behave ourselves."

"Deidara, you're the one I worry most about."

Deidara waved a hand at her dismissively, making Sakura almost snap her pen into from the sheer force of her grip. "Yeah, yeah. Let's all meet in front of the onsen tomorrow. I'll tell Tenten, and you can tell Hinata and the hot-heads, un."

"Sure thing."

Stepping out of the hospital, Deidara took a deep breath, relishing in Konoha's fresh air. The hospital was always too suffocating and clinical for her taste—she preferred air which made her feel like she was alive and not a cadaver to be probed at.

The streets she now walked were slowly becoming the norm—she was starting to make land marks in her mind, such as Asuma's smithy, several government buildings, and a plum tree growing near the shores of the Naka River. It was quite a drastic change from the industrial sites and outer farms that Ame had boasted.

How many months has it been since then? Since I drank tea with Obito and worked out deals with Kakashi? Since Shisui kicked my ass in tanto spars? she wondered as she crossed the bridge over to Konoha's colorful market district. All around her, vendors shouted their wares, and uniform-clad school children haggled in vain with experienced aunties. The ground was still wet from last night's rain, but most of the miserable winter mood had been replaced by a cheerier tone more suitable for spring. Damn. Forget months—it's been almost a year.

Deidara halted when she spotted Itachi, carrying Izuna in his baby sling, crossing an intersection with Asagi and her son, Shogo. The boy was wearing, proudly, a brand new school uniform as he held their hands. He splashed in a puddle, only to duck his head sheepishly when he was scolded gently by Asagi. It hurt her a bit to watch—watch Itachi step into this strange role as Shogo's pseudo-guardian in addition to taking his role as an actual father to Izuna by the reins.

The crowd swarmed around her, and she knew they wouldn't be able to see her, so she didn't bother waving.

Shaking her head, she continued her stroll, eyeing the fruits on display. They weren't cheap—but she supposed she could treat herself. "Ne, oji-san," she addressed the vendor, picking up an apple, "I'll take one of these, un."

As Deidara polished the apple with the sleeve of her white yukata (and then with the creases of her forest green hakama), she heard childish giggling from somewhere to her left. Looking up, she saw that, a distance away, Daichi had his lips together in a grimace while some boys nudged him toward a girl their age buying sweets at one of the stalls. Behind his back, Daichi held a daisy. Almost astonished, Deidara looked on, the apple feeling heavy in her hand all of a sudden. Finally, Daichi worked up the courage to tap the girl on the shoulder awkwardly and held out the flower to her. Smiling sweetly, the girl accepted his present and offered him one of her candies in return, making Daichi flush so red that Deidara felt the need to ask if he needed Sakura's medical assistance.

"Ah, young love," the fruit vendor chuckled, making Deidara startle. She had almost forgotten the man was there.

Deidara could only nod woodenly, a small smile on her face.

She left shortly, not sticking around to see what would happen next with Daichi and the girl. Brow lowering, she bit into her apple with a loud, satisfying crunch. Geez, she lamented silently, thinking of Itachi's shift into fatherhood and Daichi's boyhood. When did we get so old? Even though it had been less than a year since she had been entertaining the children of Akatsuki by exploding Tora the cat, it felt like she had aged greatly. I'm starting to feel like the old man Danna likes to act like.

Her first encounter of the day with Tenten occurred almost as soon as she stepped into the courtyard of Gai's dojo. The brown-haired girl was sweating as she practiced her bojutsu on an invisible opponent. The sight of Kisame sitting at a terrace table with a lacy umbrella sticking out of it to shelter him from the barely visible sun did not faze her in the least as she lifted a hand and said, "Yo."

"Deidara—oof!" Tenten exclaimed, saved from almost falling over from the butt of her staff jabbing her in the gut.

"When did your technique get so lazy?" Deidara taunted, throwing her brown bag aside. It landed on Kisame's terrace table.

"Watch it," the shark-man growled when it nearly knocked his tin of biscuits to the ground. "These are Kumo delicacies. Sesame, actually."

"Lazy?" Tenten echoed, affronted. She twirled the staff in her hand so that it was perpendicular to the ground.

"You heard me," Deidara nonchalantly strolled over to the corner of the yard to fetch a staff, "You've gotten sloppy, Tenten." She clicked her tongue. "That was an amateur's mistake." She smirked, twirling the wooden weapon in a similar fashion. "Oh, of course—do feel free to prove me wrong, yeah."

"Oh, you're on."

"Do you remember when we fought the first time?" Deidara made conversation to infuriate her, but Tenten managed to keep her head on tight. She dodged when Deidara's leg lashed out, and parried the blonde's blows. "You beat me then. Think you'll fluke again?"

They danced around each other, eyes narrowed and grinning wickedly. Kisame looked a bit more attentive than he did before, stock-still with only his mouth moving to chew his Kumo biscuits.

"Fluke?" Tenten chuckled as she swatted the end of Deidara's staff aside before going on the attack. Her motions were whip-like and precise, and Deidara scowled as she struggled to fend her off. "If I remember correctly," she panted as she rolled to the side to avoid Deidara's counterattack, "I didn't exactly scrape a win off you." She kicked off her right foot, knocking away Deidara's hastily formed defense and pointing the end of her staff at her face. "One."

To Tenten's surprise, Deidara burst into laughter. "So we're doing this again, huh?" Before Tenten could react, Deidara's leg struck upward with amazing flexibility, and she kicked the pole right out of Tenten's hands. Then, with her own, she prodded the soft underside of Tenten's jaw, pushing her chin up. "Well?" Deidara prompted, smirking. "What now?"

But to her credit, Tenten didn't seem spooked, her confidence rocked, but not shattered. Breathing out slowly, she shifted her stance and lifted her arms in a familiar position that knocked the wind out of Deidara.

The blonde's shoulders tensed. "You..."

"Gai has been teaching me a few things," the brunette said softly, lowering her gaze for a moment. "Out of all the styles that he could teach me... he said this was the one that suited me the most."

Tenten lifted her gaze, locking eyes with Deidara. For a moment, all Deidara could see was Shisui, body positioned the same way and without his weapons. But instead of a great stone wall and a rocky floor, the ground was firm soil and grass that would have tickled their legs if they hadn't been wearing long pants, and the backdrop was a soft blue sky and lush green trees reaching for the heavens. Birds burst out of the canopy, and Shisui struck.

Then she was back—returned to the reality in front of her. Tenten, trying her best to muster the confidence to face her in a taijutsu-only battle. From the amount of times that she had fought with Shisui, Deidara could see her faults and openings almost instantly. Not Shisui, but a pale imitation—a fledgling attempting to bear his image. Deidara half-expected herself to be enraged—but instead of anger, a strange sort of peace had washed over her. She exhaled, striding forward and poking Tenten's bicep, which was firm with muscle. "Your arms are too high," she said crisply. "Lower them a bit. And don't crouch so low, yeah. You're not jumping over the world's highest mountain."

"Ah," Tenten fidgeted, "Right." Hesitantly, she asked, "Deidara? Are you mad?"

Deidara shook her head, the shadow of a smile on her lips. "Nah. I think if I had to choose a successor for him, it'd be you. Look's like Gai thought the same thing, huh?"

"I just don't want to disrespect anyone—"

"Disrespect?" Deidara echoed, incredulous. "Hey, listen—you're not disrespecting anyone, okay? Tenten, if Shisui were still here, I guarantee you that he would have seen the same potential in you that Gai did. That I do." She exhaled sharply. "Shisui and Obito... they're dead. The Big 4 as we know it no longer exists, un. But that doesn't mean... a second coming can't be in order."

Tenten's throat bobbed as she listened, and for a second, Deidara was worried the girl would cry. But she merely let out a sigh, rubbing at her eyes before any tears could fall. When she looked up again, she was smiling. "Thank you."

Deidara stepped back. "Ha! Don't thank me yet. Since you're cocky enough to try and fight me without a weapon, I can only assume that you're somewhat good at the very least. And if you don't meet my standards, I'm going to beat your ass into the ground, un!"

As the two women fought, Deidara slowing down her usual movements to match Tenten's, Kisame sat back and enjoyed his tea and biscuits. Lately, he had been feeling more at peace than he ever had in his life. If he fell asleep right then and never woke up, he wouldn't even be unhappy about it. He closed his eyes, basking in the warmth of the sun that hit the back of his head—in the temporary peace that he was lucky enough to experience at this very moment. "Ah... I could get used to this."

A hawk circled the mountains as Sasori's eyes cracked open. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he sat up from his futon, scanning his surroundings to see Kagami and Konan still fast asleep. The two of them were still recovering from sustained injuries, so he let them sleep, quietly changing into something warmer and more comfortable to move around in.

"Then prove it."

Taking a swig of water from his canteen, he let the old samurai's words circle around his head before the sound of barking outside chased them away.

"Oh, joy," Sasori intoned when the first thing he saw upon stepping out was Kakashi tossing a medium-sized stick into the distance, the pug that he had adopted scrambling after it.

Kakashi's eye curved up as he smiled underneath his mask. "Yo."

"Why are you even here?"

"Ah. You see, a little birdie flew by and sang the most wonderful song for me, about you and a certain samurai girl—"

Sasori held up a hand. "I'll stop you right there. Whatever you need to tell me, don't do it in your ridiculous anecdotes."

"Mou, you really are no fun, Sasori-san." Kakashi knelt to pat his dog's head when it came back with the stick. "Konoha has requested the aid of the samurai," he said abruptly without looking at his red-haired companion. Sasori's eyes narrowed, but let him continue. "Negotiations have been... somewhat stale. Your presence here will either make or break us. And it'd be in our best interest if you make nice with Saigo-san."

Sasori shifted his weight onto one foot as he gave Kakashi an appraising look. "You think I don't know that?" He shook his head. "Regardless, I'm more curious about why someone like you hasn't been able to sway them." His stare became a little more sharp and cutting. "Aren't the samurai supposed to be family?"

"Always so critical," Kakashi said lightly. "My father... lost standing in the eyes of these samurai. For the brutality he showed in his time in Suna."

"Brutality? Is that what they call it? Murder sounds more simple and clean-cut." The red-haired man scoffed. "Even if it was anything but clean."

The tension was palpable between them—years of grief and spite twisting and hissing in their guts. Kakashi finally faced him again. "Find Saigo-san."

"Don't tell me what to do." The words were empty—merely spoken out of reflex and the longing for getting the last word in because he couldn't bear the thought of Kakashi making the decision for him. "It's true we're allies. And we've proven we can maintain civility." If only barely. "But never forget who you are to me, and who I am to you."

Kakashi's single eye flashed as he remembered how Sasori's Zetsu vines had strung him up like a puppet, holding him firmly in place and twisting around his neck with intent to kill. "Never."

"Sasori-san is so hot-headed!" A brown face, tanned by the sun, obscured Sasori's view for a moment. "What are you doing out here? Weren't you the one who told me never to come back?"

"Is it a crime for me to change my mind?" Sasori replied bitingly, unable to hide a growing smirk. He was too prideful—too prideful to admit that he had missed his company.

Komushi laughed. "I knew you would say that. Let's go fishing! I know a good oasis nearby."

Saigo was hot-headed, but she surprised Sasori when he discovered her sitting on the shores of a vast lake, contained within a recess in the behemoth mountain. He'd had to descend from the other side of which they had come, skidding down loose rock and pebbles.

Saigo was hasty and brash, he had concluded. But Saigo was also fishing, an activity that required an endless amount of patience that he did not have. There was already a half-filled woven basket of fish beside her, and he mused, briefly, upon how aquatic wildlife had somehow found their way up.

"I'll kill you," Saigo said as soon as Sasori stepped out of the trees, her grip tightening on her fishing rod. "If you come any closer."

You can try. Sasori smiled mirthlessly. "No need for hostility." Ignoring her strangled, offended gasp, he casually stalked closer, as if her threat meant nothing to him. And it did. "I didn't take you as the type to fish."

She bared her teeth at him, the scar on her face scrunching up hideously. "You know nothing, murderer." Even with her bold, fierce declaration, Sasori could still see her unrelenting gaze occasionally flick to his monster arm, bound by bandages and hidden by the sleeves of his black cloak. Her hair, worn in her usual high ponytail, lashed violently in the wind, and—for the slightest moment—Sasori thought that if he blinked a little too long, he would find her fishing hook pulling out one of his eyes the moment he opened them again.

"You can relax, you know," Sasori told her, keeping as much inflection out of his tone as possible. "You won't catch any fish if you're this tense."

"You dare act so nonchalant around me?" Saigo threw her rod to the side, standing up and extending her naginata. Snarling, she pointed the sharp end of the weapon at Sasori, who had yet to draw his own weapons. "You intrude in our land, whispering sweet nothings into the ear of our leader—for what? For many years, the samurai have lived in these mountains in peace, undisturbed. While the other nations try to justify their own wars, we are in the midst of relinquishing our earthly attachments. Our society is changing, but you're here to set it back to the way it was before!

"Akasuna no Sasori. A man like you has no business here. You have lived your life drenched in blood of innocents. Not once have you learned the principles of benevolence and goodwill throughout your miserable existence. Whatever acceptance you seek will never be found here. Return to the lower lands, where scum like you belong."

She spat before him, her eyes blazing as she dared him to challenge her words. For a long while, Sasori merely stared at the wad of spit near his shoes. Then he removed his cloak, folding it once and throwing it aside. It landed more heavily in the shingle than Saigo expected, and she grimaced, her shoulders tensing.

"On the first day I arrived," Sasori started. "You challenged me to a spar."

"Not a spar." Saigo sneered. "A duel."

"I'd ask for an escort to the training grounds," he replied, deceptively calm. "But I'm quickly losing my patience with you." With a puff of smoke, he released a single puppet out, chakra strings connecting his fingers to the puppet's seal anchors glinting in the light.

Saigo barked out a laugh. "Oh, I thought this day would never come. The killer shows his true colors!"

"It would only be fair, considering how the samurai showed me their true colors immediately upon my arrival." And years before that. Sasori smiled, a bitter sort of amusement behind it. "If I remember correctly, it was you who charged at me with your blade aimed at my back. Whatever earthly attachments your society is attempting to relinquish seems to be lost within your inherent sense of seeking violence."

"Ridiculous! Violence is not inherent!" With that, she bellowed a war cry, her naginata blade suddenly engulfed in chakra and extending. She swung at him, striking like a cobra.

There was a barely noticeable click as Sasori avoided her initial attack as well as her follow-up. Flexing his fingers, his puppet was sent forward, wood shifting as some of Konoha's finest blades spun out of its side, whirling toward her with malicious intent.

She parried a few back with her naginata before sticking the sharp end into the ground and launching herself to the side. She landed on the balls of her feet, using her momentum to restart her offence. Her features were contorted—wild, feral, unyielding—but her eyes were as sharp and as focused as his own.

"Why are you here anyway?" Sasori asked as they sat by the oasis. Komushi was humming a tune as he fished calmly, still waiting for the first bite of the day. Occasionally, Sasori would toss a stone into the still water out of boredom, gaze languidly following the ripples that formed.

"Because I like fish. Especially the grilled kind."

"That's not what I meant." Sasori gave him a critical look.

Sparks flew as chakra-laced weapons clashed, neither puppet master or samurai warrior willing to relent. He was quick on his feet—Sasori watched the woman's frustration grow whenever she tried and failed to land a hit on him. His style of fighting was almost completely defensive, relying on his puppet for any sort of offensive power. Her eyes widened—one eye could stretch more than the other, he noticed, likely due to whatever injury had scarred her—when smaller knives shot out from the gaping mouth of Sasori's puppet.

"This isn't the sort of environment you normally find people like you in," Sasori went on, chucking another stone into the pond. "You've been here almost as long as me. Why are you here?"

Komushi gave him look, curiosity aroused by his questioning. "Why else? I want to serve my country. And the Royal Puppet Corps—man, they're wild!"

Something in the water made the surface ripple. The first sign of life Sasori had seen all afternoon. Baffled, he echoed, "Wild?"

"So secretive, so mysterious. That's the kind of image I would like to have, you know? Respected and feared, but also loved."

"Loved?" He almost snorted. "Feared, yes. Respected, maybe. But loved? Komushi-san, I think you're mixing up the Corps with the Imperial Harem. Here, we do not love. We fight, we bleed, we slaughter, but we do not love."

Komushi fell into a thoughtful silence. He was only roused from it when something tugged on his line. Grinning, he reeled it in, his face falling in disappointment when he saw what was on the other end—a clump of water weed. Sighing, he picked the grass from his hook. "You know," he began, "I'll be honest with you, Sasori-san. You're right to wonder why I'm doing this. I don't agree with killing, and I sure as heck don't like getting hurt. But fighting... fighting is like love!"

"Excuse me?"

Sasori gritted his teeth as Saigo suddenly broke through his defense in an astonishing display of tenacity, her weapon slicing his cheek, just beneath his eye. Blood welled up and dribbled down the side of his face.

"Why don't you use your arm?" Saigo panted. Her sleeve was soaked red, and he knew for a fact there was a growing, painful bruise on her torso—he wasn't the only one wounded by their battle. She licked her chapped lips, growling, "There's some sort of power to it, isn't there? What the hell are you waiting for?!"

At Sasori's sullen deadpan, Komushi backpedaled. "Okay, maybe not exactly like love! Sasori-san—what is love, first of all?"

"Passionate relations between a man and a woman. Marriage, sex, and children are usually the outcome."

"Y'know, sometimes, I can't tell if you're being sarcastic, cynical, both, or none of the above. But love can mean a lot of things. The most basic definition is what you just described." Komushi cast another line. "The love I'm talking about is an exchange of feelings—not romantic feelings, but understanding." He paused. "Wait, is there another word for that? Because I don't know any."

"An exchange... of feelings? Is understanding considered an emotion?"

"No, but it's a feeling, isn't it? You feel like you understand them, and they feel like they understand you. Right?"

Sasori glanced up, almost lazily, with half-lidded eyes and a bleeding cheek as Saigo's naginata soared through the air, its long figure darkened momentarily by the sun, which appeared to shine silver today.

"Are you talking about friendship, then?"

"No. It doesn't have to be friendship. It's just... a mutual exchange of understanding."

Opposite him, the heels of her boots digging into the shingle, Saigo clutched her freshly wounded hand (the cut would scar, he made sure of it) glaring at him with the same kind of hatred that Sasori had encompassed for almost the entirety of his life under the thumb of the Emperor of Suna, the one that he had thought long gone until he laid eyes on Kakashi's wretched visage, the spitting image of Sakumo in his youth.

Sasori caught the naginata as it fell, examining it briefly before walking to where Saigo was keeled over, breathing heavily.

He lifted the blade until it was aimed between her eyes. "Yield." When she merely made a guttural noise with her throat, he pressed the tip of the knife against her skin. A droplet of blood sprung up. "I said yield."

"Fine," she spat out. "I yield."

Sasori brought it up higher, and Saigo ducked her head instinctively, her eyes squeezed shut as she prepared for death.

Komushi smiled with all his teeth. "Watch the fire die in their eyes."

Then, without warning, he tossed it at her feet.

The flames sputtered. Saigo stared up at him, disbelieving. Then she snatched up her weapon, her eyes never leaving his face.

"I believe," Sasori said coolly, "that I have earned the right to talk without my words being ignored."

"What the fuck?" It was almost amusing watching every muscle in her face try to react at once. "What the hell are you talking about?!"

"You're going to heed the words of a killer." Before she could protest, Sasori added swiftly, "I've earned that right at least, haven't I?" When she didn't answer, he hummed, tracing his finger over the coarse wood of his puppet. A bloody trail followed it. "An idiot once told me that fighting was like love."

Saigo, standing now, choked. "What are you—"

"He's dead now." A beat. "I supposed it served him right for being an idiot. But for all his idealistic tendencies and his patriotic delusions, his understanding of humanity was greater than both of us could ever comprehend. Love is an exchange of feelings, in the same way that battle is. When nations war, it is the culmination of negative emotions and conflicting beliefs. Conversely, however, love encompasses the exchange of positive emotion. But the sort of love I am seeking right now with you is different. It is neither positive or negative—that I seek is an exchange of understandings.

"So I'll ask you this—Saigo Konami-san, why do you hate?"

"You..." Saigo trailed feebly before shaking her head. "You're insane. A madman. I'm not sticking around to hear another word of this nonsense—"

"Do I have to recite the Bushido to you?" Sasori asked dryly. "Because I can and I will."

"You damn—! You would use my own learnings—my own code of honor—against me?!"

"Yes. You will stay and you will listen, or you can denounce your status as a samurai to your general." Taking the initiative, Sasori lowered himself into a seiza. "I'd rather not talk standing."

Eyeing him warily, Saigo sighed, copying him promptly. "Fine. Let's see what a killer has to speak for."

Knowing his hands would search for something to do as he spoke, Sasori pulled out a small wooden block and a flat blade. If Saigo had any protests, she seemed to be saving them for later. Opening his mouth, he began to carve the block. "You seem to be under the impression that I am a heartless murderer. You're not completely wrong. I am a murderer."

"Oh," she drawled sarcastically, "A murderer with a heart. How nice. When people refer to hearts, they don't always mean the physical one, you know. Funny, because you were talking about love just moments ago."

A mountain bird screeched in the distance. Behind Saigo's head, Sasori spotted the raptor disappearing behind the sparse treeline across the lake before reappearing. Wings flapping, it landed on a dead tree branch that reached for the heavens before proceeding to clean the feathers on its wings, untamed and unrestrained. "It's not funny at all," Sasori said calmly, as he were explaining a simple concept to a child. "If I am capable of hate, then I am capable of love." He smiled mockingly at her. "That's something we have in common—the ability to hate and love."

"I don't appreciate any comparisons drawn between us."

"Tsk. And if you think I somehow care, you are sorely mistaken," he said tautly. A reminder that it was his turn to talk, not hers. She grunted, displeased. "I have a lover back home. She's like you, only she doesn't act like a wild animal."

"A lover?" Saigo couldn't help but blurt, brushing the insult aside. "Who in the seven divines would—" She bit her tongue, knowing her honor was on the line. "Fine," she said cautiously instead. "You have a lover. And?"

"I'll talk about her later. I just wanted to establish some similarities, first of all."

"I'm not a child."

"Did I say you were?"

Her jaw clenched ever so slightly.

Sasori continued to carve the wooden block, shaving away layers and layers of it. "I asked you why you hate. It's only fair if I tell you why I did."

Saigo raised a brow. Past tense?

"I was born to a carpenter and a seamstress in Sunagakure thirty years ago. When I was five, there was a national incident at the royal palace—a case of murder-suicide. In just one night, over half of the Empress' harem was decimated by a single teenager. Naturally, the demand for replacements and new trainees was high, and it was a certainty that I would have been picked had I not been enlisted into Suna's Royal Puppet Corps." He stopped picking at the wood for just a moment before he resumed, the artistic sense he had developed over his childhood and adolescence guiding his calloused hands. "I have my grandmother to thank for that." He paused. "Although... it's hard to say which life would have been kinder."

Saigo said nothing, merely blinking.

"There was no place for benevolence or goodwill," he continued, clearly remember her earlier words, "Such things were almost unheard of. If there were any sort of those moments... they were fleeting. In between my training, my grandmother would teach me morals so I could cling onto humanity for longer. She helped me see through the corruption of my government, and it was then that I began to truly hate. It got even worse upon my promotion to the Emperor's personal hitman.

"I began to loathe almost unconditionally. The rulers of my country for their greed and their wrath. The illusion of greatness and order that our law enforcement perpetuated. My own grandmother for teaching me how to see through what Komushi-san never could, and for pushing me into a life where I could not possibly abide to the moral principles that she had taught me. Myself, for the life I led, my cowardice, and my inability to change my situation."

"And then what?" Saigo demanded gruffly, her hands curling into fists. Slowly, Sasori cocked a brow, surprised that she had bothered to prompt him at all. But she seemed to have at least some genuine investment in his tale, seeing as she had not yet made any crude remarks.

"I fed into it. I deluded myself, or," he scoffed, "tried to, into thinking that every single victim of mine was a criminal who was deserving of death. Most of the time, they were, but there were—are—always exceptions." He put down his carving for a moment. Saigo peered down at the half-finished figuring between them before glancing back up at him again. "I suppose you've heard of Hatake Sakumo?"

"Of course. He was an example of what not to do as a samurai. I know how he ties in to your hatred."

"Do you?" Sasori challenged.

"Hatake Sakumo, aside from his then-teenage son, was the last of the Hatake line," Saigo began confidently, and Sasori had no doubt she had learned it as some sort of history lesson from her elders. Considering Sakumo's reputation, he wouldn't have been surprised if all the children of the community did. "One day, he..." She recited Sakumo's story as if he was some kind of anti-hero from an old tale or legend. The hard glint in her eyes—the same glint that had been beginning to soften in his own before Konoha whisked him back into the field—was ever present as she spoke.

"And so Hatake was disgraced, and sought the final solution—the one which would give him his honor back."

"Honor," Sasori echoed hollowly, clicking his tongue. "What an absurd concept that you lot have bound yourself to."

She glared daggers at him. "You wouldn't know a thing about it, so shut your damn mouth."

"I know enough to understand that its an idea born from righteousness that people continue to abuse and twist into their own narratives to this day. Hatake Sakumo saw the restoration of his honor as the outcome of suicide. What an utter load of shit. His death changed absolutely nothing in this world—it did not alleviate the suffering of the proletarians of Suna—the very people he had befriended in his short stay—nor did it suddenly reverse the deaths of the two innocent civilians that he killed in his blind vengeance. Death by his own hand was the very worst insult he could have ever inflicted upon me.

"He was the reason I became consumed by my hatred. My job turned into my outlet. My kill count racked up to over four-hundred men and women. I fully embraced the monster that you—and many others—believe me to be."

His knuckles were white by the time he finished. Saigo's gaze never left his face, the corners of her mouth occasionally twitching as she debated against herself. It seemed that she was capable of restraint, after all. Then Saigo stood, the rocks crunching beneath her shoes. "Enough. I don't care what you say anymore. I'm not like you, Akasuna no Sasori. What's the difference, between the you of then and the you of now? Nothing you do will ever be enough to make up for your deeds." The slightest sneer lifted her cheeks. "And the fact that you even think that you can suddenly change the path you walk on absolutely appalls me."

With that, she stood, picked up her naginata, and walked away, her face a mask of stone. She did not look back once, as if she were daring him to lash out in a fit of rage and cut her spine out from her flesh.

He had known from the beginning that this would never be easy. Near impossible, perhaps.

But for the sake of the things he now had—the things he needed to protect—he would need to win the trust of the samurai anyway, starting with the one who bared her fangs at him the most, her mindset narrow and unwavering.

When she was gone, Sasori got off his knees and gave his puppet—hastily crafted in the crudest image of Komushi—a single appraising look before returning it to storage.

You would've been able to do it.

"Sakura-chaaaan!"

Karin let out an exasperated sigh, though she couldn't help but smile fondly as Naruto leaned dangerously across the railing of the ship, waving frantically to the pink-haired medic on the wharf. Ever in tune with the chakra of the surrounding people, Karin had picked her out of the crowd first, and had promptly told her cousin.

"Naruto!" Kushina whacked him upside the head with her free hand, the other holding an overstuffed suitcase full of their clothes, having just clambered up from below deck to see her son teetering on the railing. "What do you think you're doing, huh?!"

"Geh!"

An anchor was released off the side of the ship with a splash as the sailors docked, shouting and hauling ropes and crates around. Waiting for the plank to connect the dock, the passengers gathered in one large crowd toward the front, looking for relatives or friends who had come to collect them.

"Now, children," Kushina said sweetly, and Naruto winced while Karin snickered. "I trust you know how to behave?"

"Of course," Karin answered, sounding confident. "Oh—I should introduce Hana to you, Kushina-oba-san, if we see her."

"And we definitely won't be peeking in the women's baths again, will we?" Naruto shirked into his traditional Uzushio garb—an ostentatious orange changshan that Karin frequently expressed disgust for—as his mother continued to press.

"That... was one time! And I wasn't the one peeking, it was that old guy on the Hokage's council who looks like a toad! I was trying to stop him—"

"And getting an eyeful while you were at it," snarked Karin, smirking.

Naruto glared at her. "You're a real piece of work, y'know that?"

"I've been told."

Kushina snorted before ruffling their hair. "Come on, you two," she said as the passenger started their descent, fondness seeping into her tone. "Sakura-chan's waiting for us."

Sakura welcomed them warmly, offering to relieve Kushina of their single suitcase. But Kushina politely declined, insisting that she was more than capable of carrying the weight, and the four headed down into the city. Rickshaws were more common in the outermost areas of the city, and they hopped into one, Sakura giving the man pulling them directions.

"It's so good to you again, Kushina-san," Sakura said warmly, beaming. "You too, Karin." She glanced at Naruto once. "Oh, and you, I guess."

"Sakura-chaaaan!"

"I'm just kidding!" Sakura laughed. "Anyway, you guys will love the new dumpling place that just opened up—"

At the mention of dumplings, Naruto balked, Karin grimacing beside him.

"Ah, forgive us, Sakura-chan," Kushina spoke apologetically. "How do I say this...? We're kind of sick of dumplings, 'ttebane."

Undoubtedly, Sakura had chosen the restaurant not only based on its status as a new establishment, but also because of its reputation of serving traditional Uzushio food. After a few more words from Sakura to the rickshaw man, they ended up changing course to a ramen bar. The pink-haired girl threw a concerned look at Kushina, who had a large grin on her face. "Are you sure this is okay?"

"This is more than okay, Sakura-chan!" Kushina replied cheerily.

"Ichiraku Ramen," Naruto breathed, practically drooling.

"Still don't see what the big deal is," Karin muttered as they all sat down at the ramen bar. Ichiraku's was a small shop in a big city—and Naruto's favorite restaurant. "It's just noodles in broth, you two."

While Naruto and Karin browsed the menu, Kushina glanced around the little shop. "It looks almost exactly the same," she mused, nostalgia softening her features. From her right, Sakura smiled at the wistful cloud in her eyes. "Kind of comforting, 'ttebane. Ah! Teuchi-san!"

Emerging from the back with his brown-haired daughter was the owner. He gave them all a warm smile and welcomed them heartily into his humble establishment. "I'm sorry for the wait," Teuchi added apologetically, his daughter, Ayame, pulling out a palm-sized notepad and pencil from her apron pocket. "What can I get you folks?"

As soon as their orders were placed, Teuchi disappeared into the back while Ayame wiped down the counter. The customers were lulled into casual conversation.

"The girls are having a get-together at the onsen this afternoon," Sakura said, talking to Kushina and Karin. "You guys should come along, too. It's always nice to have a relaxing day off."

"My, that does sound good," admitted Kushina. "What d'ya think, Karin?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll pass. I want to see Hana again—she promised me some out of town medical textbooks. You guys have fun, though."

"And I'm sure Sasuke will be happy to you," Sakura added when Naruto pouted, seemingly upset that he wasn't included.

"That bastard? Yeah, right!"

"He may not show it much, but Sasuke does care. He's been feeling terrible about his actions in Akatsuki, and he's working as hard as he can to try and atone for it." She sighed. "Working too hard, if you ask me. I'm worried about his health."

Naruto grunted, keeping his gaze fixed forward. He fiddled with his chopsticks in one hand. "That bastard... he did a lot of bad things, didn't he?"

"Naruto—"

"So if he needs help trying to make up for the shit he did, I don't blame him. Where is he, anyway? Still living with Itachi?"

Sakura breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Naruto. And yeah, he is, but he's normally out all day at the police station. He gets home at about eight o'clock in the evening."

"Think the cops will mind if I bother 'em?"

Conversation gradually disappeared when the food arrived, Naruto and Kushina slurping up ramen at lightning speed. Sakura and Karin were much more restrained, the latter girl occasionally shooting exasperated looks at her cousin and aunt.

The afternoon rolled around fast; once the Uzumaki family dropped their luggage off at the house Kushina and Minato used to live in before the latter's death, they all went their separate ways. Naruto off to bother Sasuke, Karin to search for Hana, and Sakura and Kushina heading off to the hot springs in loose clothing.

"I feel like I haven't relaxed in a long time," Kushina groused on the way there, stretching her arms up in the air.

"Really?" Sakura bit her lip. "Tsunade-shishou's been a bit stressed out, too. Something about the politics with Uzushio City."

"Yeah, there's a bit of... unrest at the moment. Just a bit, not a lot. We're preparing for festival season, y'see, and it's generally pretty frazzling as it is, 'ttebane. But with the Ame-Tsuki war going on and Konoha's involvement, the Hokage is starting to put the pressure on Princess Mito to send aid. It's only increased ever since Kaguya withdrew her offensive forces. It's a volatile ceasefire at best, and we're all licking our wounds... What better time is there to secure more allies? Suna is practically a lost cause, and Princess Mito has substantial firepower in her hand."

They entered the ladies' section of the onsen to find Tenten and Deidara already changed inside. Interestingly enough, the blonde was wearing rather stylish sunglasses, talking to Tenten as she pulled the tie holding her hair up out, her locks falling over her scarred shoulders. She then bundled up all her hair in a single bun on the top of her head, her fringe escaping from the tie to curtain the left side of her face as per usual. Tenten kept her hair in its usual style; both of them were wearing only towels around their bodies.

"Hey, it's about time!" Deidara greeted, lifting an arm. Her sunglasses, too big for her face, slipped down her nose a little. "Hinata's already inside with Hanabi-chan, un." She smiled crookedly at Kushina. "It's been a while, Kushina-san."

"Please, just call me Kushina. No need for honorifics, 'ttebane." The red-haired woman began to strip, grabbing a clean towel. Sakura did the same, greeting Tenten as she did so. "How have you been?"

Deidara hummed. "Pretty good, actually. You?"

"I could be better," Kushina said honestly. "With the ceasefire and all—"

"Oh, yeah, I heard about that on the radio. And it was all Fatso would print for three days."

"—the tensions between Konoha and Uzushio are growing in Konoha's insistence for aid." Kushina sighed. "I'm afraid something bad will happen soon, 'ttebane."

"Really?" Deidara clicked her tongue, her brows knitting in a frown. She lowered her sunglasses to give Kushina a questioning look. "Tsk. This ceasefire was supposed to be a good thing, un. What reason does Uzushio have to refuse anyway? Technically, they're part of Konoha. If we lose this war, so will they."

Kushina sighed once more as the girls all went out the back to the steaming onsen. "I wish. It's not quite as simple as that."

"Yeah, I know. But Tsuki is a common enemy, un. There's no time for the little details—they have to start looking at the big picture." Deidara's cheeks reddened as she sank down in the pleasant water, leaning against the warm rocks as the water reached her chin. "Ahhh... I can feel the muscles loosening. I need to come here more often, un." A splash caught her attention for a brief moment, and Deidara grinned as she saw Hanabi vehemently refuted Hinata's claim of Moegi being a sweet little girl. "Anyway, can we not talk politics right now? I feel like I'll fall asleep and drown if we do."

"Of course. It's not every day we get to relax like this, after all."

"Geez, Hinata," Tenten said as she massaged the Hyuuga girl's back. "Are you always this tense? You've got a ton of knots in your back—how do you even stand properly?"

In response, Hanabi squirted water in the brown-haired girl's eye, making her splutter. "The Hyuuga are a noble clan—we can handle a few muscle cramps. Right, Hinata-nee?" She poked her tongue out at Tenten, who knew she was merely joking. "Or however the stuffy elders like to say it."

"I can't imagine having to grow up with 'stuffy elders'," said Tenten, amused. "My parents were pretty easy-going, and..." Her face fell a little. "Iruka-san didn't really care too much about formalities."

"Yeah, well," Hanabi lifted her legs, floating on her back, "It's... not ideal. Bearable, I guess. I didn't talk to him a lot, Iruka-san sounded like a great guy. He reminds me of one of my teachers, actually."

They had perhaps spent fifteen minutes in the hot springs when Deidara turned to Sakura and asked, "Do you still have those multivitamins in stock? I'm all out, and I'm leaving for Uzushio on Monday."

"The hospital is running pretty low this week due to an unexpected flu outbreak," Sakura told her. "But I should have a few in my medicine cabinet at home—we can swing by later, and I'll give you a bottle."

Kushina perked up at mention of her home, lifting an arm to adjust the towel on her head, which had somehow managed to encapsulate almost all of her hair, leaving only a few short, red strands on her hairline peaking from beneath the fabric. "Deidara! You didn't tell me you were planning a visit!" The red-head almost knocked the wind out of Deidara's lungs as she slapped her heartily on the back. "And you're leaving at the same time as us! Now I don't have time to plan a tour, 'ttebane," she bemoaned.

"Hey, it's just a work visit," Deidara appeased, wincing at her stinging back. The Uzumaki matriarch had a strong arm. "I probably won't even have time to go sightseeing, un."

"Don't be so negative! You're not working all the time, are you?"

"No, but—" Deidara huffed, grumbling and pushing her hair out of her face. "There's no winning against you, is there? Are all Uzumaki this relentless and stubborn?"

"Like you can talk," Tenten joked from the side.

"Hmph. Yeah, well... Wait a second," her eyes widened as something dawned on her, "I'm... starting to sound like Sasori!"

"Oh my god, you are," Sakura agreed.

"Isn't there a saying?" Hinata chimed. "That lovers subconsciously become like one another? And then, in the next life, they're born as twins."

"Bleh," Hanabi wrinkled her nose, "That's so sappy."

"I think it's romantic, 'ttebane!"

As they giggled, Deidara glowered at the water, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson that the warm environment did not help in the least. Never before had she been teased like this from her female peers, having been robbed of the experience while on the cusp of adulthood. She had wandered for a while after her mother's death, begging for food and scraps and snatching whatever she could from food vendors. And when she had arrived in Akatasuki City, determined to make some sort of proper living for herself, her interaction circle had mostly been male, none of whom she had showed much romantic interest in.

It made her a little giddy, actually.

"Now, now," Tenten appeased, taking pity on the blonde. "If you tease her now, she'll pay you back tenfold when you all get boyfriends and husbands."

"Nah, not me." Kushina smiled, wistful. "Minato was the only one for me. I can't imagine ever loving anyone like I loved him. Besides, Naruto and Karin are enough of a handful as it is."

"They do say that adolescence is a second puberty," Sakura interjected wisely, as if she weren't a teenager herself.

"I get it," Deidara admitted, talking to Kushina. Tension started to build up in her shoulders again before she relaxed. She rested her head against a stone protruding from the edge of the hot spring, feeling the comfortable heat of it against the nape of her neck. "I can't see myself with anyone else except Sasori-no-Danna, un."

Sakura bit her lip, turning her gaze down to the bubbling water as the mood sobered up slightly. "Don't worry. He'll be back soon."

To everyone's surprise, Deidara laughed, pushing her sunglasses up so that they sat tilted on her head. "Who says I'm worried? It'll take more than a war to kill that man. Yeah, I miss him," she went on, "and I hate that he's not here, but... I know we're gonna see each other again. I'm done moping around—I'm gonna live this life to the fullest just to spite everything and everyone who ever wanted me dead. I mean," she chuckled, rubbing her scarred bicep, "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Damn right you are," Hanabi said loudly, sitting up abruptly and crossing her arms. "We all are! We're survivors! And we're not ever gonna let anyone forget that, right, Hinata-nee?"

Hinata nodded, firm in her resolve. "Right."

Kushina blinked in pleasant surprise before her lips curled up in a smile. "I'm glad to hear! Some celebration is needed in times like these!"

"You guys..." Sakura swallowed a lump in her throat and then smashed the water with one fist, making Tenten jump. "Dammit! It's too early in the day to be crying! As soon as we leave, we're all going back to my place to do our nails and braid our hair! Got it?!"

"Is this a threat?" Tenten uttered.

"Yes."

Deidara put her hand up mockingly. "Can we go eat first at least, Haruno-sensei?"

"I'll whip something up at home, since Kushina and I already ate."

"Eh. Good enough, I guess."

The rest of the day passed nicely, an almost idyllic fantasy that Deidara would have never imagined herself living, especially during a time like this. For a few hours, the war wasn't real—she wasn't running and fighting for her life, or dealing with the aftermath of her trauma. Instead, she merely sat on the floor of Sakura's bedroom until her butt went numb, blowing her nails dry (she had painted them black with nail polish, a recent invention that had appeared maybe two or three years back) and flipping through Sakura's magazines as Hanabi and Hinata fiddled with her hair, the Hyuuga sisters working in perfect tandem.

Even when they all parted ways when the moon had risen, the high of today still clung to her.

"Busy day?" Chiyo remarked when Deidara got home, sitting on her rocking chair and flipping through one of Fatso's newspapers. The blazing headline declaring the ceasefire was visible on the front page. Judging from how many pages she was into it, she was probably in the middle of absorbing whatever political details the government had decided the press was allowed to print.

"Mm." Deidara smirked as she toed her shoes off, amused at the sight. "Why—you gonna scold me for staying out too late?" she teased.

Chiyo barked a laugh. "What a strange notion. Do you take me for some overbearing nurse?"

"Of course not. What ever made you think that, hm?"

"Hah! Goodnight, Deidara. Go bathe and sleep before you screw up your body clock enough to miss your morning boat on Monday."

"Yeah, yeah." Deidara smiled. "Goodnight, Chiyo-baa."

"You've got to be kidding me, right?!" Kushina folded her arms across her chest and glared at the two teenagers, who were sitting in seiza before her.

Whether it was from bravery or stupidity, Naruto looked up first. "But, mom, Sasuke needs me—"

"Sasuke is almost a grown man, Naruto!" refuted Kushina. "He's not a little boy, 'ttebane."

"Yeah, well neither am I, 'ttebayo!"

The outburst seemed to suck all of the sound out of the room. Naruto paled, expecting some sort of fiery explosion, but then Karin spoke first. "Neither am I, Aunt Kushina. We've both thought long and hard about this."

"You, too, Karin?" Kushina said. Then she turned around, muttering to herself, "Teenage rebellion already?! Heck, if I'd known two kids were gonna show up in my life so suddenly, I would've read more of those parenting books Minato panic-bought back in the day..."

"We already have a house here," Karin continued in an attempt to convince her aunt. "And we know our way around the city, too. We'll be fine, Aunt Kushina, trust me. I'll keep an eye on Naruto."

Kushina frowned. "But... we're supposed to be a family. Karin, you may be a niece, but you're practically my daughter. And Naruto," her gaze softened, "You're my son. I've spent sixteen years by myself. Thinking that Minato was looking after you in heaven. No! I won't have it. I just got my family back—you're not getting rid of me that easily! If you're so adamant on staying, then you're gonna be stuck with me, 'ttebane! Got it?"

Karin and Naruto exchanged a glance before breaking out into grins. "Got it!" they chorused, then leaped from their kneeling positions to attack Kushina in a hug.

The Uzumaki woman sighed. "What am I gonna do with you two... I spoil you guys way too much..." She gasped suddenly, remembering something. "The tickets! I spent too much ryo on those bad boys!"

"Maybe we could give them away?" Karin suggested before Kushina could get the idea of returning to Uzushio with them in tow. "Like, to someone who needs a vacation?"

"I suppose we could..."

"Oh, I know just the people, 'ttebayo!" Naruto piped up, wriggling out of the group hug to snatch up the tickets on the table. "Just leave it to me!"

Humming a tune that Obito used to sing all the time, Rin arranged the flowers for the window display. Her hair was short once more, and tied into a small ponytail at the nape of her neck so she could work without the ends of her hair tickling her collarbone. In her head, she made her plans for the rest of the day—in the afternoon, she would pick up her children from school and eat lunch with them at the refugee centre, where they currently resided; later in the day, her family would join Itachi's for dinner.

The bell on the top of the door rang, signifying the entrance of a customer.

"Welcome," Rin said automatically, using her wrist to brush her side bangs aside, smiling. She pushed her half-finished arrangement aside on the counter, prepared to serve. How odd that it was only months ago that she had been the boss of many alongside her husband. "How may I help you today?"

"I'm here to get flowers for my mother," the little red-haired girl who had entered said, a sullen look on her face. Rin didn't probe. "The order's for Piccolo-Hiraoka Ruizu."

"Oh, yes," Rin nodded, "She came here the other day. Let me fetch the order for you." She disappeared into the back room, reappearing not a moment too soon with a large bouquet that obscured her view. Slowly—and a little clumsily—she lowered the flowers onto the table, peering around the colorful petals to hand the little girl a clipboard and pen. "Sign here, please."

She did, swiftly signing.

Rin glanced at her signature once. "Ai Wei? You're Uzushian? Oh—or do you prefer Chinese?"

The girl glared. "Why? Is there a problem?"

"No, not at all." Rin offered her a gentle smile. "I was surprised, is all. Your last name is distinctly Kumor."

"I'm adopted," Ai Wei said curtly. "My foster parents are Kumor. And my father has a Konoha citizenship, so don't get any ideas about reporting us to the military police."

"Believe me, I wasn't." Defensive, isn't she? Rin pursed her lips in thought. And she doesn't seem to be fond of her adoptive parents either. "Do you want to look around, er," Rin looked back down at the clipboard, remembering how the girl had only put her first name and omitted her official surname. "Ai Wei-chan? Your... mother isn't in a hurry to receive this, is she?"

"Yeah, I guess. And she kinda is, but I don't care about her."

How nonchalantly the girl declared such a thing sent a slight chill up her spine, but Rin smiled through it. "Take your time. Business is slow today, anyway."

"Mm."

Rin returned to her bouquet for the window display, keeping an eye on Ai Wei in her peripheral. But before she could get much done, the bell dinged again, and she glanced up to see none other than Naruto at the door. "Oh! Naruto-kun, it's nice to see you again. What brings you here?"

"Hi, err... Sorry, what do I call you now?" Naruto said as he walked up the counter, abashed. "I'm way too used to you being my boss, 'ttebayo..."

"Just Rin is fine, Naruto-kun."

"Wha—that's kinda super informal though! How 'bout... Uchiha-san?"

Her lips quirked upward, vaguely aware of Ai Wei eavesdropping on their conversation. Though, she supposed, Naruto wasn't exactly being discreet. It just wasn't in his nature. "I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but Uchiha-san is Itachi or Sasuke." And Obito, a little voice inside her added. "If it's too strange, you can just stick to Nohara-san."

"Oh, okay. Nohara-san it is then! Anyway, a lot of stuff happened, and now we have three boat tickets to Uzushio City." Naruto put them down on the table. The stub of one of them was starting to tear a little. "So, I was wondering... Do you wanna take 'em? You could," Naruto fumbled over his words, "take a break from work for a bit with Daichi and Hikari. Go sightseeing in Uzushio City. It's an awesome place, 'ttebayo, and I'm not just sayin' that 'cause I live there."

"Oh my..." Rin stared down at the gift that had practically dropped from the sky. A vacation would be nice... And the school term is almost over with just a week left. I'll have to ask Yuzuko-kacho. "Naruto-kun, are you sure about this?"

"Sure." Naruto shrugged. "We don't need 'em anymore, so it'll just got to waste if nobody takes 'em. Besides, Nohara-san, you deserve to have a great time! And you can even go with Deidara! She's leaving the same day and time as you, 'ttebayo!"

Ah, that's right. She has business in Uzushio City. Beaming, Rin took the tickets. "Thank you, Naruto-kun. I'm sure Daichi and Hikari will be very happy." I'm sure Yuzuko-kacho can spare me for some time. We have enough money for a return ticket, too. "Would you and your family like to join mine for lunch this afternoon? Daichi is always happy to see you."

"Of course! I'll go tell my mom and Karin." He started to backpedal, a wide grin on his face. "How does Tomoko's sound?"

"Like a plan." The tickets disappeared into the pocket of her yukata. "I'll see you later, then, Naruto-kun."

Once Naruto was gone, Ai Wei appeared so quickly at the front of the counter that Rin almost jumped out of her skin. "Ne, Nohara-san," the girl said, a sly undertone in her voice, "What did he give you? Tickets, was it?"

"Yes." Rin fished a single ticket from her pocket, holding it out for the girl to see. What is she up to...? A moment later, the ticket was back in her pocket. "Would you like a ribbon with the flowers?"

Ai Wei shook her head, a tiny smirk on her face. "Oh, no need. I'm sure mother will be satisfied. The flowers are really pretty, by the way. See you next time, Nohara-san."

The sky was starting to grow pink as Daichi trudged down to the port, yawning. His suitcase—a little too big for him to handle efficiently—bumped against his shins as he walked, holding it in front of him. He was trailing after his mother, who had Hikari—the lucky girl—in her arms. His little sister was fast asleep, unaware of the tiresome chore her brother had been assigned to. Rin herself was carrying an even bigger suitcase that her boss, Yuzuko, had lent her.

"We're nearly there, Daichi," Rin assured him, craning her neck to look at the large, intimidating passenger ship. Black smoke puffed from its three chimney columns, lingering in the air like tar sticking to the clouds. "Once we're on board, we can rest until we arrive.

Daichi yawned again. "Okay. Where's Deidara-nee?"

"We'll see her on the ship, don't worry. She lives closer to the port, so she should have arrived before us."

Hauling their luggage awkwardly up the gangplank, the Uchiha-Nohara family got more awake with every step. Looking skyward, Daichi saw a flock of seagulls soar past, heading in a beeline toward the fish market, where vendor owners would battle them to keep their wares safe.

"Is this our room?" Daichi asked sleepily as they entered a compartment with a bunk bed and a single bed. It was cleaner than the rest of the ship—Kushina must have paid a lot for these first class tickets.

"It," Rin grunted as she sat Hikari down on the single bed, "is. Rest a while, you two. Breakfast won't be served until we get moving."

Hikari wasted no time in nodding off on her bed, smiling a little in her sleep. She was probably dreaming of snow, Daichi supposed. Hikari loved snow.

There was a knock on the door.

"That'll be Deidara." Rin hurried to answer it. "Dei—"

Daichi raised a brow when his mother stiffened. "Mom?"

Rin didn't seem to hear him. "You..."

And Ai Wei grinned impishly across from her, flashing her first class ticket which announced that her room was right next to theirs. "Why, hello there."

A/N: Lol, this is the first update of the year for this fic. Yeah, it took months, but here's an 11,000~ word chapter. Not the longest, but not the shortest either. I looked it up, and nail polish was invented in the 1920s, the same(ish) period this story takes place in. Not sure what you're gonna do with that info, but it's here anyway.

Sasori-Saigo time, but it doesn't go well. He needs to win the trust of her (and the samurai) but she's not very receptive so far. Why DOES Saigo hate?

Anyway, welcome back!