A/N: Well, hello there! And I'm so sorry for stopping the updates! I would like to thank for the reviews, favorites and all the new followers, even after those many silent months xD ... A word of warning, though! It's possible that there's going to have some mistakes, because I was so excited about finishing this chapter I only passed a cursory glance through it. Sorry for it in advance, and I hope you like it!

CHAPTER FOUR

"This sucks. You suck. You suck too, fleabag."

I ignored Kegawa's mumblings in favor of briskly tugging my kimono, trying to hide a patch of dirt with the obi. It was wrapped tight around me, enough so that even if I was a true hyperactive child, it would stay in place. The problem with that was that it didn't account for the fact that it would be just as easy for me to stain it with something… In that instance, it had been my fault. I should have known better than to play with Gekko.

"Be quiet, dog boy," I whispered to him, trying to conceal my suspicious movements and not attract attention from the people mingling around, patiently waiting until the ceremony began.

For some reason, my aunt's marriage was a great, pompous affair. The reasons for it had been political, at best, and the presence of numerous guests wearing fine kimonos with lavish broidery was more than proof. Our temple and its surroundings had been altered by flower arrangements that hung in arcs around the gardened front, all of them wishing happiness and love, along with some devotion and loyalty, contrasting with the barren landscape.

The day was cloudy but not dark, and the sun reflected in the bulging clouds to give a somewhat white quality to the entire scene. Nowadays, the memory is blurred, with fresh colors clashing against the pure air. The wind was crisp and cold, the naked trees scratching their branches against each other, a constant noise in the background, adding to the hushed conversations going on.

The temple had been cleaned specially for the occasion, and the ornaments gleamed in the sun like they were new. There was a veritable banquet waiting for the guests inside of the ceremony hall building, not far from the shrine, enough for the eighty or so attendees. It was strange to see the ceremony hall being used. It was rare that in times of intense fighting – like the one we were living in – it would be put to use, except perhaps for mass ceremonies for the recently dead or obon ceremonies, when we commemorated our deceased ancestors.

The only ones who would enter the shrine for the ceremony were the immediate family. In Ryouichi's case, it meant his parents and one grandfather; for Junko, it meant Hahaue and an old couple I didn't recognize, but were probably close to the bride, for them to witness the rather private ceremony.

The other guests would wait for the groom and bride's arrival before going to the ceremony hall, wait for the end of the wedding and then the beginning of the reception party, when the meal would be served and speeches would be made. Even if I had never before attended a traditional wedding, I knew because, unfortunately, I had been forced to listen to Hahaue and Junko's friends and cousins gushing over it.

The single thing that didn't add up to the entire occasion was the date. It was winter. No one married during winter; it was cumbersome and uncomfortable for guests who had to travel during the harsh weather. Besides, it wasn't auspicious for the couple. Common seasons were spring or autumn, good times that symbolized fertility and growth.

Winter in our province meant cold winds and sudden drops of temperature during the night, but we didn't have to worry about snow, at least. It isn't my favorite season, even if I had been born during one of the harshest winter nights of the year.

Kegawa interrupted my stray thoughts, huffing and blowing a warm breath on his own hands, trying to keep the heat in, shrinking in his own formal garments. He had been quite put out by it, saying he was there to deliver information, not to attend a wedding. Hahaue had been courteous enough to politely inform him of the change of plans. Kegawa hadn't argued… Much.

"Tell me something, ojou-sama," he began in a mulish whisper, narrowing his eyes at me as if I was to blame for the whole situation. "Why the hell do you need a bodyguard in the middle of the fricking main compound?"

My first reaction was to chastise his vocabulary, but I had discovered thorough our months of association that throwing children on the battlefield meant that they picked up in more than battle tactics and jutsus from their comrades. It made me think about Masaru, which I stomped on immediately, refusing to think about my awkward and silent birthday without him or that it had been almost three months since he had left. Instead, I decided to do something more conductive to my sanity.

"As a matter of fact, that is Hahaue's subtle way of ensuring you won't run away," I answered with as much disdain for his deductive skills as I could infuse my voice with. "You could think of me as being your current leash."

I turned to him with a smile, watching his round cheeks begin to blush, darkening his tanned skin, his fangs showing through his gaping mouth. Gekko barked at his feet, interrupting whatever he was going to say and breaking our next volley of insults.

I couldn't stop the smile from growing in my face, and I immediately forgot my attire again to kneel on the ground and coo over the pup. I had never seen his breed before. He had white, uninterrupted, short and coarse fur covering his whole body. His constitution made me think of huskies, but his body was narrower and his fur wasn't so thick. His eyes were solid black, intelligent and observant in a way that made me think of Akamaru and other Inuzuka dogs. Gekko wasn't going to be big, but I had seen him moving, fast and silent while hunting birds in my yard.

"You're so cute! Who's a good boy? You are, yes, you are," I continued to speak to him in an unconscious baby talk that didn't help the high tone of my voice, scratching his ears.

"You're going to spoil him. He isn't a toy, you know? He's a soldier," I looked at the puffed-up Inuzuka and felt some of my good humor expire. I kept petting Gekko, but when I watched him bend his small head to try to force me to reach what was apparently the perfect spot I felt my stomach begin to roll with nausea.

Gekko snuffled the palm of my small hand, searching for something to eat. I hadn't spent much time with him, but I had spoiled him for all it had been worth. No meal time went by without at least a slim piece of meat being shuffled to the edge of the table for him to pick. What can I say? I never had a dog before, and I was in love with his diminutive body and adorable face.

"Che, it's alright anyway. We needed the rest," mumbled Kegawa, suddenly sounding vulnerable and tired, crossing his arms and looking around with unsubtle suspicion. It was lucky no one took notice of a bratty little boy giving them his best glare. He would make a terrible undercover bodyguard.

"Something the matter?" I asked, immediately catching the way his shoulders sagged with a kind of relieved tension, dissipating almost visibly around him despite his attitude.

"Nothing," he answered without looking at me. I searched his intense face and eyes, trying to detect a lie, but I wasn't familiar enough with him to distinguish a telling move from a customary gesture. He seemed somewhat tired, but it could only mean that he had done a lot of missions since the last time we had seen each other. It could be nothing but normal fatigue… Or it could be the fact that the battles were getting more difficult and our chances worse. It could mean that Masaru was fighting a lost war and was going to die for nothing.

I reigned my oppressive thoughts in, unwilling to let the worry simmering inside make me stop functioning. Hahaue wasn't looking too preoccupied and even when injured or tired shinobi came back from the frontlines she never asked for updates on Masaru and Chichiue's dispositions. In fact, when I happened to spot one of them it was an exercise in patience to not storm over and demand he or she tell me something, anything about what was going on and where was my brother.

I had promised myself that I would be strong. I wasn't sheep, didn't matter what my aunt had to say about it. In fact, I was maybe a full step ahead of all of those predators… I had the future in my mind and I planned to do something about it. I didn't know what, yet, but I wasn't going to ignore that kind of information. It could – no, it would – save lives someday.

I took sudden notice of the strained silence that had suddenly fallen over our little bubble of space among the crowd. I didn't say anything, waiting for a glimpse of its true nature. Gekko in the meantime was butting his head against my knees, white fur sticking in some places to the patterned fabric of my kimono. I sighed, slowly getting up so I wouldn't trip over my own feet. I still had a long day ahead of me, and already my head was running around with new information.

"You know, you can always come back here between missions. We could play and you can guard me all you like," I said, in a spur of the moment decision, smiling at his moue in response to my joke. Not that I regretted offering a piece of my peaceful and quiet life. Kegawa was slowly turning into a close companion, more of another younger brother than a friend, really. Our age gap was too great for me to consider him an equal.

He stiffened for a moment, the line of his narrow shoulders straining against the set of formal kimonos Hahaue had practically pushed him into, before exhaling a loud breath, all the tension sliding away from his posture.

"Yeah… Yeah, that would be nice. But if you begin to order me around, I'll kick your ass," Gekko yipped in apparent agreement, and when Kegawa turned to pick at him again I took the chance to smile at him, happy that, even if I couldn't help him out there, yet, I at least could provide a haven, away from the fighting and death.

The conversations going around us suddenly became more excited, and a commotion began near the temple. It was my aunt, gliding down the steps in a beautiful white kimono, alongside her now husband and, by extension, my uncle, Ryouichi. They were followed by their close family, and Hahaue was stunning, as well, graceful and elegant, and every inch the matriarch of a Clan.

The guests clapped politely, but the common folk residing in our compound, watching the merging of two of the most powerful branches of the Clan from the sidelines, cheered loud and strong. Marriage means security and stability, in special for the Uchiha Clan. Our history is turbulent, at best, and turns bloody and gruesome when the main branch is involved.

I chuckled to myself at the noise, clapping as well, and watching the vacant expression on Junko-san's face, probably hiding her annoyance. Ryouichi-san, on the other hand, was scowling and glowering, obviously unhappy with the commotion. It was harrowing to have his piercing eyes sweeping the crowd with disdain; he had an intense air around him, and it only made his loathing more prominent. It was clear that he wasn't – and wouldn't ever be – suited for a very public position. He wasn't charismatic, and not even his serious demeanor could hide his general distaste of… Everything. It had been an awkward, awful dinner the week before the marriage.

"I'll never understand you great names," Kegawa declared, crossing his arms and scowling at the newest formed branch. I giggled at him.

"Oh? Why? Aren't there any marriages in the great Inuzuka Clan?" I asked jokingly, petting Gekko's head absentminded when I noticed it was within easy reach.

"Of course there are!" He grumbled, throwing me a glare. He was cute, really. "But not arranged ones."

"Hmm… So the Inuzuka are all for true love and soul mates?" I inquired, finding it a little unreal. How did they strengthen their Clan, if they didn't tie the branches closer and just married out of the name? It would only spread their numbers thin until there wasn't an Inuzuka Clan, anymore, just a scattering of people with the same name.

"Well, no…" he answered slowly, trying to use all his seven-years-old thinking capacity to get his thoughts in order. "But we believe that everyone can do whatever they like. It's their pack, anyway."

"Pack?" I repeated, bewildered. I knew Inuzuka had a tight connection with their dogs, but not to that extent.

"Yeah, pack. Family. Kin. Brothers and sisters. You know?" he said, blinking at me with a surprised expression, like he expected me to know it.

"Uh, no," I replied, shaking my head for emphasis. That level of proximity isn't something preached by the Uchiha. We have pride, and loyalty, and honor. And that is what binds each member of the Clan.

"No?" he asked, eyes wide. His expression suddenly closed off, and he gave me a comical suspicious glance. "Che, crazy folks. My oyaji says you're all a little wrong in the head up here. Never really thought about it, but, man… You have some problems."

"Excuse me?" I demanded, trying to hide my amusement with his antics. Gekko whined when I stopped scratching his ears.

"Well… You know, I really thought you were retarded that day we met," he continued, smirking broadly. I sniffed primly, turning my nose up in theatrical offense.

I smirked at him in return, but I never really continued our conversation.

Now, when I think about that day, I find it strange that I can remember this conversation so well. So much happened afterwards… I keep trying to understand its significance to me. Maybe because it was such a happy moment, an instant of peace and relaxation?

What followed next, though, I can't explain with accuracy.

There is a lull in my memory, like the whole world took a deep breath before the storm broke. Then, black blurs surged forward from the shadows of the late afternoon, swarming like demons, hiking the low rooftops and appearing out of nowhere behind people, screams slowly spreading through the compound.

I blinked for what seemed to be one second, and then the old lady in front of me was dwarfed for only a moment by a silhouette of darkness against the white background of the sky. Just a moment… And blood gushed like an open fountain, her head lolling back in a sickening motion, pulling her whole weight until her body fell to the ground almost at my feet, close enough that I could take a glimpse of the white, white bone shining through her savaged throat.

"Kazumi!"

I heard Kegawa's voice like it came from a long distance. All the sound around me was muffled, like an animated picture in a silent movie. My chest contracted and I swallowed convulsively, trying to dispel the phantom sensation of too much air passing through my open flesh.

I was broken from my shock by something slamming against me, the heavy weight pushing my small body against the ground. My head hit the earth with a thud that I heard more than felt. Motion returned to me in a rushing tide, and I couldn't stop my whole body from starting to shiver and shake.

Warm breath washed against my face and I focused my eyes on Gekko's too close nose, feeling his constant growling against my ribcage. I made the mistake of looking past him for a moment, and choked on my own sudden horror when I saw a man wearing black with a sai in each hand, exactly where I had been just a second before.

I saw a blur of movement behind his back, and for an insane moment I wanted to warn him. It was too late and my voice stuck in my throat, a building scream that my own shock wouldn't let out.

A flash of movement in the too still air and the man fell to the ground, toppling in slow motion, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. Behind him, Kegawa stood his ground with his kunai ready, not letting his guard down. Blood dripped from the sharp blade. His eyes were sharp, focused, but a slight tremble traveled down his arms.

My heart thudded almost painfully against my chest. There was cotton being pushed down my throat, and I couldn't breathe past it. Panic settled in, making me tremble and shiver even while sweat gathered in my forehead and armpits.

He breathed in, his chest heaving, and exhaled a sharp gush of air. His arms stopped shaking, but when he warily looked around he was there again. He turned to me, thrown under the protective form of Gekko, and a concerned expression crossed his otherwise alert face.

"Gods, ojou-sama, don't scare the shit out of me like that," he grumbled, hoisting me with a strong tug, catching me with ease when my legs gave out in the same instant my feet connected with the ground. Gekko whined, worriedly nosing my waist, before returning to his attentive perusing of the chaos going on around us. "Come on, we have to get out of here."

From my peripheral vision, I saw a shimmering curtain of black hair fall to the ground, and I turned swiftly in that direction, my breath stopping with the thought of one more attack. It was a woman, with an elaborate kimono with a big red and white fan on the back. An Uchiha.

My mind flashed to other, more important, people with dark hair. Hahaue, Junko, my brothers…

"My brothers," I whispered, resisting the insistent pulling of Kegawa's hands.

"What?"

"Madara and nii-san," I choked, feeling utter panic seize me all over again, and I clung to him desperately.

"Okay, okay, hime, shh… We're gonna find him, don't worry. He has bodyguards too, you know?" There was a desperate note in Kegawa's voice, and when I felt the winter wind cold against my damp cheeks I understood why. I was crying and sobbing slightly in his clothes, and I couldn't seem to stop.

"But Ayumu…" I couldn't even finish the thought. Ayumu was going to die, according to my knowledge. He was going to die, and we were under attack. Tears streamed down my face. I couldn't control my trembling body. I wanted Ayumu there, with me. I had to have the chance to change that future. It was unfair that he could die out there, a mere child, not even in the field yet, but right there, where I could still reach him.

"Listen, hime!" Kegawa took me by my shoulders, shaking me roughly and growling at me right in front of my eyes, displaying his inhuman eyes turning to large pools of black, slowly dilating with the adrenalin. "We don't have time for this. Put your shit together, and we've gotta get outta here. Got it?"

I whimpered in his too tight grip, but his rage gave me a focus. There were sounds of fighting going on around us. It meant that the clansmen were reacting to the attack. And I knew Hahaue would never let my brothers without protection.

What I really wanted was to kick Kegawa away and make a mad dash for… A knife to my neck? What was I supposed to do in this situation? Maybe if I used my extensive Literature knowledge I could bore some of the enemy to tears?

"Hime, you with me?" Kegawa shook me once more when I waited too long to respond. I trembling confirmed with my loose head, feeling like it was disconnected from my body. I had never gone through shock before, but I was inclined to think that I was falling in that direction. "Gekko, guard!" He barked to the dog, making me frown for his rudeness. "You, get on."

He swiftly got down on a knee, tugging me in a smooth action with irresistible force, so I had no other choice but to comply, being pulled around like a rag doll. I instinctively embraced his neck and clamped my legs around his waist. He rose at the same time and then we were moving before I could even register the change in my position.

He was running too fast for me to discern more than some glimpses, dodging wildly around stray blows and whole sections taken by groups of shinobi moving so fast that they were like shadows intertwining in a strange dance, until one lost a step and was felled by a shining silver line, red being added to the dark picture in arcs that were suddenly interrupted by the still moving bodies of the other fighters.

"Shit!" He spat under his breath, and we were suddenly in the air, weightless and for a moment above the carnage. He continued to run even with the sudden shift of direction, and a bark to our side told me that, somehow, Gekko was right alongside us.

I was scared, tightening my hold around his body. Everything in me screamed in fright. My hands were sweating and my heart thudded painfully against my chest, and I contracted my legs around his waist, feeling like I was going to slip and fall to the ground two stores down.

A shadow flickered in my peripheral vision, and at the same moment Kegawa made an abrupt turn on the spot, his feet sliding in the smooth wood of the shingles when his momentum carried his weight, ducking close to the ground. I heard the air whistle close to my ear and ducked to hide my face in his neck, my nails embedding themselves in the thin skin there.

It was such a close call that I felt bile rose to my throat.

But when we came up from the maneuver, it was to face another shinobi, swinging his katana in a straight horizontal arc, right in front of Kegawa's face.

I felt all of it.

The impact made by the opposition of the forces – Kegawa's body moving both faster and slower than what we could register, running forward, and the clean, singing edge of the blade – made us slide back, accompanied by the sound of Kegawa's shout of pain.

I felt all his muscle tense under my body, and for a horrified moment I thought I would feel the top most part of his head slide away. His head was bent forward, and I felt something warm begin to dribble on my hands, slowly wetting my fingers until I knew for sure that, if I was caught off guard by any sudden movement of his, I would go to the ground.

I whimpered. Wanting to let go. Wanting to bury closer and cry. I wanted to close my eyes really tight and wake up in the middle of the night. Not on my futon, in a too bare room. But in my room, with the cumbersome window facing east that woke me up everyday with sun on my face; the garish, stained yellow of the walls that I always swore to paint but never really had the patience to; the too cluttered desk, the books spilling from the shelf… I wanted to wake up from the nightmare that had been going on for almost two years.

Instead, I watched the shinobi follow its first hit, quickly closing in, knowing that there was another one behind our backs. I prayed for a fast end, and a traitorous hope rose inside me. A crazed voice that I had been suppressing since my first day began to whisper: "Why not? Maybe that is the answer to going back to your life. Maybe it is for the best."

A small, white blur jumped forward, intercepting the blow by falling on our attacker's face, madly scratching and biting, all the while barking and growling. With a start, I recognized Gekko.

Kegawa surged forward, inhaling sharply, and I felt his heart jump under my fingers.

"Gekko, no! Come back!" He yelled. It wasn't his bragging voice. It was a child, afraid and begging for someone to stop all the bad things from happening.

His sudden move dislodged me, my grip slipping with the blood coming from the wound that I couldn't see. I screamed when I felt myself begin to be pulled to the ground, my stomach lurching and my heart beating wildly. My vertigo grew when I noticed, for a single second, that my fall was too long for Kegawa's height.

We had been too close to the edge, closer than I had thought. I was falling to the ground two stores below, right in the middle of the fights.

I was going to die.

I wake up with the sun in my eyes, but the alarm clock is silent, resting in my bedside table. I rub my eyes, trying to dispel the sensation of sand slipping in them, and glare at the glowing green numbers in the digital display. I hate DST with a passion. I never get to sleep in, not when the sun is up so much earlier than when I should be.

I yawn, stretching all my body until I hear my joints pop, feeling my muscles relaxed and my head clearer. I glance at the newest set of curtains I had thought to bought, but I hadn't closed them last night, and the nights before. I like the sights and sounds of a city at its deadest hours, when it's truly possible to hear the breathing of thousands of people.

Though, I don't like to wake with the sun lighting the horrible, lime-yellow walls of my room.

I put my hands over my face, trying to shield my watering eyes from the onslaught of brightness and the sun rays reflecting on the surfaces of the neighborhood, but I'm so used to it that I don't even have the energy to grumble about it. The apartment had been a great deal, and it isn't fair to the lovely building, even if I suffer constantly from its bad location.

I sit up, another jaw breaking yawn forcing its way before I can properly cover my mouth. My bed is a mess of strewn random pages of annotations and some books crumpled beyond salvation, my laptop is at its usual place, still plugged to the outlet, a low buzzing sound coming from under the sheets that cover it on the foot of the bed.

I moan to my own ceiling, and get up.

After a shower, I feel more awake and ready to start my day. My breakfast is a sad serving of burned toast and a reheated leftover coffee from the batch of last night, used to brave the dark hours of the night.

I shove everything I need for the day inside my bag and get out before the couch pulls me to sleep again. It's too early, but I think about stopping at a café and buying something with a bit more sustenance to eat.

I'm locking the door when I first hear it. There's a far away bang that reaches my floor from somewhere upstairs. I look up, like I could see what was happening through the concrete, but everything is silent again.

I shrug, thinking that it is probably someone moving furniture or clumsy enough to trip so hard that it could be heard one floor below.

I wait for the elevator, turn my cell phone on and whimper when I see the immediate warning that I need to charge it. I forgot to do it last night, too busy with freaking out with revising to really pay attention to it.

I begin to hear a crescent wave of noise and look up, scared. Something falls to the ground and shatters. There is yelling and shouts echo in the stairwell, even through the door.

The doors to the elevator open and I hesitate, putting my hand forward to stop them from closing. The sounds continue and I start to feel my heart pump rapidly in my chest, beginning to send adrenaline through my body.

There is a great exploding crash, and I feel the floor waver beneath my feet. It is so strong I hug myself to the wall next to the elevator, looking around wildly and scared, still in shock with the suddenness of it all.

There is something strange about the air, and I begin to have difficulty to breathe. I don't what it is, but it scares me even more, pushing me into action.

I get to the elevator, push the ground button and huddle in one of the furthest corners, waiting with growing alarm for the doors to close. The faster I got out of the building, the better. I had to get out before whatever was driving everybody down reached my floor.

The steel door of the stairwell beats against the wall when it is hit open, startling me. Voices grow in volume but I'm too shaken to understand what they are shouting at each other. I can only hear the various pairs of feet running in my direction.

There is a rumbling sound, resounding through the building and shaking the whole construction. I clutch at the sides of the elevator, keenly aware that I am in a structure hanging from cables, the only thing keeping me from plummeting to the ground.

Suddenly, the explosion seems to reach my floor and everything begins to shake like we are in the middle of an earthquake. The sounds are deafening. A gust of impossibly hot air reaches the inside of the elevator.

The doors begin to close, while I look on horrified the shadows thrown by the growing wall of fire, descending through the ceiling like a living thing, consuming everything in its way. I have enough time to see the residents of the upper floors turn the corner, equally terrified, crying and screaming, their hands reaching for the elevator.

I can't move. I feel so afraid my knees lock in place, and I can only look on, helpless, as the doors close, muffling their pleas.

I slip slowly to the floor, trying to stifle my terrified sobs, knowing that I have to keep a level head if I want to survive. It is alright. Everything is alright, and I will be out of here in a moment.

I stop myself from thinking about the people left behind, of the growing, stifling heat and the orange flames licking through the rubble fallen from the floor above, a dark mass of smoke billowing slowly and ominously, taking with it whole parts of the corridor.

A new explosion shakes the apartment building and I scream, putting my head between my knees, tears tracking down my face. The elevator stops and the emergency lights come on, a red warning above the door lights up. There is a stuttering, high murmuring coming from somewhere – a horrifying sound filling the small space of the elevator. It takes me a moment through a shock, terror-filled moment to notice that it is me.

"Please, please, please. I don't want to die. Please, I don't want to die."

I try to stop, but my body doesn't seem to listen to my shrieks inside my head. I rock slowly, forward and backwards, trying to calm myself down.

The elevator sways, and I look up slowly, praying for the cables to hold.

Steel and metal shrike all around, a cacophony that makes me freeze and stop breathing, my heart beating so hard I think I will expel it, my stomach revolving so much bile rises to my throat.

Silence descends for a moment, and for that instant hope rises hesitantly, freeing my throat. I breathe easier, and I raise my head, seeing my disheveled self reflected back at me by the elevator mirrors.

And then there is heat.