Author's Note: When I created our mystery antagonist I'd been looking towards Steampunk. We've got ninjas and victorian era detectives. Something had to be a good mesh to glue it all together somehow.
Warning: Sasuke could be acting out of sorts. I also was trying my best to depict a realistic circumstance especially with how much trust a ninja team might show to Sasuke after well, after he kind of screwed up a bit . . . make that a lot. If this situation seems uncouth to any readers, please bear in mind it's not exactly canon. Clarity is a civilian with a lot to lose just by being a third wheel (snuffs out the Mary Sue thing, she's my mass destruction gal). I just stuck to the fact that postwar, especially the cleanup can be messy and sometimes a lot of things go wrong before they go right. It's the kind of fluffiness that's worth a porcupine's hug full of splinters.
The Artist Aside Related Ninja
Chapter 3: Trouble in the Details
(Months before the story started)
Sometimes there's a wish to not be the last to find out everything. Events can happen so quickly they just blur together. My business partner and I decided it was his turn to run the art shop we owned, nothing ever happened when it was his turn to travel which for me was a godsent since the war. When a small country such as the Land of Wind or a not so industrialized continent such as the Land of Fire get together to have joint idea battles. Sometimes a bonanza of small businesses lump together and make a war profit. Jacked up prices for soldiers, medicine taken from cheap sources and sold back to them at a higher price or gearing all our skills into making a quick bit of money is basics of business if a business wants or needs to stay alive.
"Tah-Dah!" I sang taking my handy artwork and slapping it down on the table, "What do you think?"
Gaara before the war preparations were made in Suna designed a Hitai-ate to be approved by the Kages because he already had an army of artisans hired to recreate this design for roughly a third of the shinobi's population, making it an arm's race to meet form, function, supply, and demand. My design (based on Gaara's logo) was compounded metalwork based on the blacksmithing of the Viking broadsword. Some people are, um, kind of anti-equal opportunity beneath the camaraderie of the Shinobi Alliance. I was the only foreigner in a heap of rivals whose people protested hotly against a Hitai-ate even being forged like a broadsword. I'm an art supply store owner, I'm not native, and making weapons is not supposed to be the civillian's job.
"The headband will be too heavy!" one rival cried.
"Using cheaper metals instead of one pure iron will make it soft, easy to dent, and the scattershot will dig into their brains causing irreparable damage." A shinobi pointed out.
I proved already had a live demonstration to prove these critics wrong. On a brass scale one normal Hitai-ate by itself was heavier than my sample by an ounce. Some even tried to scratch it in two but they had to rub that Kunai extremely hard before the tip of the Kunai was dulled on its surface. It didn't even nick the logo. People hated me even worse because I didn't even care a baby gnawed on it. It's just that lightweight, strong . . . and safe.
"So how can you cement the deal that these Hitai-ate show the indomitable Ninja spirit?" one good friend of mine, Shin'emon the tea cup maker responded.
I laughed nervously, people would either love me or hate me more after this.
"Alright let's see a show of hands." I replied, "Who thinks this war is the most twisted, family slash class reunion ever?" I surmised and felt a tendril of encouragement from the unanimous raise of hands in the audience. "It has given us many mixed feelings of both, happy-to-see-you-ness, regret and some kind of closure. Let's have a live demonstration. Please stand back while I destroy my creation."
The earth rumbled beneath our feet as several people pushed forth a huge monstrosity that hadn't been seen since the Kekkai Genkai incident at Mount Shumisen. The four man crew heaved that sixty pound Gatling Gun center stage. People cleared to the back and sides of the streets. When the baby dropped my Hitai-ate sample on the ground. It clang and the Gatling gun opened fire. Multiblasts tore the cloth to burnt little ribbons yet the metal band was barely blemished. It looked brand new and I tore the remaining back off to reveal my shops logo on the underside. After everyone's hearts stopped thrumming in petrification that is.
"See right here, if my product does not do its job and no one wanted to be identified right away, underneath the shinobi's clan symbol and/or favorite logo can be etched in back as identification," I stated, "Since secrecy has been a must since the last kidnapping incidents. I made this to be not only protection but a failsafe for any and all circumstances."
"But . . . your product just survived two hundred rounds of bullets!" one person gasped.
"And isn't it a Hitai-ate's job to protect right here?" I inquired, pointing to my forehead, "Arm, neck, leg, whenever! You shinobi are what makes this Hitai-ate great. Wherever you wear this. You'll have two hundred rounds worth of protection."
So safe to say the sales pitch was a big hit. People custom-ordered so many that I couldn't keep up with all the orders by myself. I was only one of several artists that actually put my design to work in some form or another yet still demand was high. I took a chance after my business partner delivered an order, he took orders back at the shop and I went to deliver an order. With a few friends the Hokage insisted get dragged along.
"It's no big deal really," I stated, "It's not like I'll get ambushed honest."
Over the months Lady Tsunade and I traded rough words. Tsunade pointed out that my live demonstration attracted just as many cutthroats as it did honest citizens. I pointed out that being in danger wasn't new to me, I'm a glutton for punishment. Seriously, I love Konoha for giving me a second chance when I screwed them over. It's like fighting with family. Other shinobi are not as close to me in fact when War looms that's also when other people decide to save their small business.
"Sasuke!" Naruto yelled.
Sadly I also had a few other missing nins that were like fighting with family. The one I know best out of Team Hebi now named Team Taka was their leader Sasuke. I know I'm the little civilian that promised to stay out of the way but sometimes he's crashed on my couch . . . when he was bleeding. These guys formed the once united Team Seven before getting caught up in a little conspiracy triangle and I got halfway into the shinobi game to watch it all fall to oblivion in a matter of years.
They exchanged blows. Sakura went up against the big red head turned nuts, Juugo. Sai and Kakashi teamed up against the watery sword wielder Hoozuki Suigetsu. Unlike me, who got an earful of the new guy.
"TALLY HO!" the newcomer yelled, prosthetic arm swinging, splat.
Newcomer fell on his butt. His peg leg got caught in the rocks. He jumped up and fell on his face mud first. He had a small rifle for a hand that sunk into the ground when it tried to prop him up. Very tall graying red head with the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. Not only was he out of place.
SPLAT
He was a total dork, pure and simple.
"Gyoza!" Suigetsu yelled, "Take the loot already!"
"But I can help fend off the ninjas," Gyoza whined.
Sasuke muttered something of having to do everything himself when he bit his thumb. The bleeding hand slid across an open scroll. I jumped before a swirl of light tried to engulf me.
BLAM
Gyoza fired his rifle and the kickback knocked him into Sasuke who accidentally head butted Naruto who fell on top of Sakura. Sai dove into the rescue while Kakashi pulled me out but another snag happened during the mission. Sasuke's chidori rammed through Naruto's sub-clavicle and Sasuke was the one who took the most damage from Gyoza's buckshot bullets.
"Sasuke! Naruto!" I yelled after the team. "Everyone, what's going on!"
I fought, struggling against Kakashi's vice grip. I couldn't yell stop when my eyes were having a hard time perceiving. Personally this whole fight was all my fault. They wouldn't be this way if it weren't for me.
"Darn you stupid invention!" Gyoza muttered. He tried to slap the mud out of his prosthetic gun. It fired and the heavy buckshot hit a new target. "Whoops."
Kakashi pulled me out of the line of fire but the bullets shrapnel exploded upon entering. I took the brunt of the blow. Kakashi turned and the shrapnel sliced into the exposed parts of Kakashi's back. A high pitched scream ravaged the air. I didn't notice anyone else screaming.
. . . Oh yeah! . . .That was me . . .
"Baka Gyoza! You're supposed to hit the ninjas not kill our paycheck you bastard!" Suigetsu growled at the newcomer.
Gyoza being the happy go lucky idiot bounded after us. Juugo and Suigetsu could only stare dumbly because of one idiot with a sawed off shotgun shot his own teammate. Blasted everyone into the space time continuum. Than was dumb enough to toddle in after them.
"Mah, Juugo the new guy you picked out is a piece of work." Suigetsu complained, "Why didn't you go find Karin instead of that dork!"
At least that was the horrible dream I had when I woke up only to fall off the cot. The musty smell of cleaning supplies caught my nose. I edged gingerly forward to assess any damages. Stone walls, cold floor, stored random pieces of junk in a corner all circa 1880's. The sting of my bandaged torso told me that was not a dream and I really did take a gunshot to the face.
(Fast Forward to now)
A quiet moan from my lips had someone running over. A matronly looking woman in period dress rushed to my side when I was careful not to bruise any ribs.
"Come now deary, let's get you back onto the cot," she soothed but I kept batting her away.
"No, no," I slurred my pain filled brain in a fog, "My friends. Where's my friends."
"The ones who landed along with you," the woman guessed, "Ah, Dr. Watson and Mr. Holmes have been working all night on them, all of them actually. I mean normally I'm not that shaken but after all that damage, you falling from the sky and getting run over by a donkey. It scared me near half to death. I was afraid not to see you alive."
The woman's warm words sent a slimy curl of fear to my heart. Was Naruto alright? Did Kakashi survive? Is Sakura and Sai okay? Did Sasuke actually create a wormhole with a jutsu? These questions and more were on the tip of my tongue as the woman opened the door. My heart pounded in my chest. My mind was ripe with horrors scenes of Mary Shelly's Frankenstein or badly done surgery.
I closed my eyes fearing the worst when I heard the rustle of cloth and the light clink of porcelain. What opened up before me was a simple open space area. A chemistry setup in the corner of the room chasing after an entire wall devoted to looking like the noir PI offices of back in the day. The fireplace kept company with a bearskin rug, a couple armchairs and a cane hatched chair next to the gas lamp. A curtained recess, blocking a window and window seat from view. I was a little dazed looking at all the furniture but when I saw four familiar faces sitting around the living area my sienna eyes lit right up.
"Naruto! Kakashi! You're okay!" I cheered, rushing to greet them, "Sakura, Sai, man I'm so glad Tsunade was on my case to have you guys come along you're life savers."
I ran to hug them only for WAH-POW to the face. Sakura's finger flicks smart. I crashed into a wall. Not that the new dudes weren't dropping jaws. That thunk to the face hurts.
"CLARITY!" Sakura roared, and proceeded to throttle me. A number of people were holding the charging kunoichi back. It took all of Sakura's self-restraint to not tear everything in the flat to get to me. Either that or those injuries were still nasty for her. Other than Naruto, no one wasn't sporting a cast or some kind of overgauzed emergency surgery. "Don't jump into the middle of a fight."
"Ah . . . I'll . . . just sit . . . down," I nervously laughed but inside my courage curled up and died. What did these people think I was Mary Sue? An eighteen year old would not teach a twenty four year old civilian how to kick butt, nor did I have anything outside of a few minor tricks, some honest targets, and a throwing arm for dodgeball. "What just happened while I was comatose?"
Sakura yelled at me for my stupid antics. Sai pointed out some things. There was one guy, a man named John Watson who was absolutely calm. Naruto up and hugged me, wincing I returned the hug, I mean it was almost a botched mission after all. I'm just glad everyone is all right. Kakashi had his nose in his book but don't let that fool ya he already cased me over with his lone eye. Just the dull haze in his dark eye proved my worst fear.
"Oh man," I winced when I sunk into the hatched chair, face in my hands. "It was true?"
The buckshot stitches hurt like a son of a buck. It had not been a dream. Something else got to my attention.
"Where's Sasuke?" I asked out loud again. From the group depression yes I struck a nerve with Team Kakashi I'm not sometimes, "C'mon I know you're okay, give or take the ass running us over. I'm just worried about everyone."
"He's tied up at the moment." Sai pointed out quietly.
I'm not good at sensing chakra, but I could see it all in my head. Sasuke wakes up, disorientated. A soldier moves in. He hits survival mode and oh crud he'll disappear.
"Please tell me he didn't disappear."
"Preposterous how could a prepubescent combatant vanish?" Another man laughed coldly. First impressions are not good ways to judge others but after my stint in this man's presence I could only ask one thing.
"My gosh are you stinking high?" I flustered, "What the heck are you chuffing?"
The man straightened up flustered and affronted. Six feet tall and his lean build only made him seem taller. Square jaw and hawk-like nose with those piercing sharp eyes made him a man that was smart, alert and cunning. The worse combination along with the giddiness found in certain sociopaths I've avoided over the years. Ninjas and civilians tended to be a little on the edgy side when confronted by people like this. His face took a grim declaration of war as he stood up to me.
Six foot tall versus a little civilian who barely stands up to Tsunade's nose in height. I'm pretty short. We shook hands, his grip was strong, my grip made his knuckles crack. Call me anxiety, I was scared of this man even more than I was of Sasuke who for the record had gutted Danzo for fits and giggles last time I met him.
Sherlock grit his teeth until one more yank and he ripped his chemical stained hand free. He paced around me repeating a litany of phrases I've heard from many customers.
"I will have you know I do not fly nor . . . chuff if this is the colloquial you desire to address me by," He sniffed, staring down his nose at me he paced around me with the all snootiness of a snotty art critic, "Clarity Cratchet, artist and small business owner. The blood stains on your blouse show a high lack of physical self-appreciation yet a fundamental intuitiveness for self-preservation dealing with places and people."
And here I am thinking how does he usually know why people hire me?
"Your hands are mottled with dirt yet the rest of your appearance is well kept. People who usually are known to manipulate have been known to keep clean when it works to their advantage." He sneered.
"I keep an honest business," I snapped back, "And sadly yes I've also stepped on a few toes but that's because I have a signed don't tell contract clause for dealing with customers who deal with conspiracy. It's an occupational hazard to avoid torture for anybody."
The crickets could be chirping when I threw my hands upward. My arms flopped to their sides. Point taken my number one customers are all ninjas.
"And being rescued by some dude who cracks dirty secrets rates high on my bad day list," I scoffed back, "Please, thank you for your help but please don't play detective on my friends, it's rude and annoying and I'm not responsible for your demise should you be poking your nose where it doesn't belong."
I got a few withering looks in my direction but it's only fair. Mixing detectives with ninjas is like mixing tabloid reporters with secret agents. Sure Ninjas pride themselves on mission integrity and no nothing ever ends well for snoopy meddlers. We aren't very far away from post-war to guarantee no one dies because they accidently discovered the conspiracy twinkie. You might as well ask a detective to delve into some ninja's dark past warranting detective a death wish because said wish was supposed to remain a secret. Just ask some of the detectives left in my neck of the woods.
. . . If you can find the bodies that is.
. . . And hopefully we don't have anybody who loves human puzzles I hope.
Dr. Watson sat patiently while the whole group filled me in on what was going on. Naruto and Sasuke were the first to wake up. Sakura (upon hearing Sasuke and Naruto scream/fight) made quick work repairing everyone else even getting some to "wake from the dead" as Holmes put it. Kakashi dozed off. He took the biggest amount of damage trying to shield me. I was happy to sit there and let him use my back as a pillow.
Sakura however was the first to whisper in my ear.
"Dr. Watson has medical equipment that I haven't been seen in a hundred fifty years," Sakura hissed under her breath. "I even checked for an Eye of the Moon Genjutsu and nothing has turned up."
"We crash landed with a psycho and got run over by an Ass drawn carraige. What makes you even think this is Obito's Jutsu?" Naruto grumbled, Sakura's punch hit home but Naruto didn't fly, "Ow!"
"I was checking for any and all possibilities," Sakura exclaimed, "If it were that Genjutsu, Sasuke would've been the perfect boyfriend and Clarity would've laid off the coffee."
"What? It's nature's slow roasted goodness I can't help myself," I whined, "Look, you bounce ideas. I'll go find Sasuke."
The Team 7 froze up at that. Once upon a time Sasuke wasn't an international criminal. He's had emotional abuse from who knows where. Sherlock is saner than he is. He predicted to me everything about Sasuke. The fact he met and killed his brother, confused at how he met his brother a second time. He declared the kid emotionally and physically abused. Dr. Watson, bless his heart, was much kinder with the diagnosis.
"I have been situated in similar circumstances from my time in her majesty's service," he explained quietly, "He will have traumas, issues, with which he has not received the time to think about until now. Prone to rows and possible night terrors. I suggest, no I order," Dr. Watson wrote down a prescription, "He see a therapist."
I took the paper and smiled politely. Considering Sasuke's clear descent into madness last time Team 7 met I was surprised no one jumped to defend against that part of him, not even Naruto. Sadly it was true. I mean no one could live the next nine years of their life through a massacre, a bleeding heart total jerk of a big brother who I actually feel sorry for, a sensei who wanted to body jump into him, and getting chased by the Raikage and several bounty hunters until he could only sleep for like ten minutes a week to come out unscathed. If Sasuke didn't take a sawed off shotgun to the backside, I am certain he'd have killed Watson if he had the strength.
"No child should see the horrors of war that young." Watson added as he left.
"Yeah it's a little too late for that," I muttered considering they just helped win the war and I was supplying Hitai-ates to the clean-up crew. We were still looking for Yamato's body after all or if he's still alive I hope. "Sasuke kind of grew up in War Alley so to speak."
I helped adjust the dozing Kakashi into a laying position even taking the sweatshirt off my back to pillow his head before I left. I had a blouse under it. Water glass in hand, I entered. Candlelight flickered in the deepest corners of Dr. Watson's bedroom. This doc was sweet but he creeped me out in the opposite way.
Okay, picture this, without those old timey war relics, his cupboard locked up, gramophone missing, and second exit locked shut. The place was shut up tight. Sasuke leered at me by the wall. A fist sized hole where he punched into the cupboard. He sat relaxed but the way he uncurled from the floor, perfectly fluid, faltering at the ache in his back. He didn't show any signs of needing to see a therapist, gauzed and bandaged yes, sociopathic no.
"What do you want Cratchet?" Sasuke grunted. The feeling I had sliming my spine. The aura of death emanated from when he looked at me. His face for a few seconds flashed that eerie grin he had when he described busting Danzo's back over his knee. Sasuke stepped once and froze, deer in the headlights. He leaned back looking over me sitting there shivering on the bed.
"You're frightened," Sasuke asked and for two seconds I could see the sweet kid I first got to know back in Suna. "It's because of me."
I'm a businessman, an artist, I haven't seen this kid in such a long time. Reunions are supposed to happy cheery, sans the sappy theme song in the background. What I get is a skittish teen who under that aloof façade stands five feet away from me just waiting. No response, no "hn" of affirmation. His arms were crossed in a classic pose of discomfort.
" . . . I'm sorry . . ."
Surprise number 2 threw me for a loop. To hear him apologize I felt my entire body wilt. That was it? No fits of violence, no aloofness, or even a roll of the eyes. His friends (though Sasuke quotes the term friends loosely) didn't rush in to see him. Watson's private quarters was stripped bare and he even prescribed Sasuke to see a therapist literally. Technically since Victorian era medicine was taking baby steps compared to twenty first century science. To have some doctor we barely know prescribe medical treatment.
. . . It has to be as embarrassing as getting pantsed.
"Hey you know I'm supposed to say we are just outside the door so if you need a moment or," I almost told Sasuke he was free to sock Sherlock in the face, "need to talk just give a jingle."
"You've hired new employees before?" Sasuke stated, not a question, a hazarded guess.
And he just had to bring that up just when I was about to turn and leave but he's still a friend I keep reminding myself. A friend I'd love to strangle.
". . . Yes I have . . ." I answered, gauging his reaction. Sasuke didn't look me in the eye. Hands clasped near his nose, elbows at his knees. His knuckles were white and his hands barely started to tremor. A ticking time bomb, Sasuke was on high alert. Everything tense, wide awake and stubby fingernails digging grooves into the backs of his hands. "And you need to tell me everything from the beginning. We haven't seen you in years. You turn up out of nowhere declaring you'll be the next Hashirama Jr. and start acting all goody-goody when from second hand opinion I've been hearing you tried to snapped people's necks."
"Those were the tailed beasts there's a difference," Sasuke argued, "And who are you to talk. Death is apart of war just like it's apart of life and apart of change. I plan to destroy the system."
"And create mass genocide," I butted in, "Welcome to politics kid but enough with the pity party. I want to know about Gyoza."
If looks could kill I'd have died but Sasuke didn't have the strength or the chakra to pull it off. Through the moth eaten holes of his clothes blared the Katon: Tenrō seal from Hōzukijō prison. The burn marks seared into the flesh glowing beneath thinning cloth.
"Oh man," I whispered, "Hold on I 'll call the Dr. Watson."
I started to get back up but Sasuke's hand snapped around my wrist. Flesh hot to the touch it didn't just start to burn him alive it was making him sick. Sweat clung to his skin. Heat rushed to dizzying heights from toes to head. He shook the fever from his eyes.
"Karin had quit the team and went back home." Sasuke stated, "Juugo went insane and out of my control. He took to shutting himself in caves for days and only came out to eat or drink. Suigetsu was getting dehydrated and I didn't know what was going on."
Warning bells were ringing and if Sasuke wasn't sitting there in such hidden physical torment I would've called for help immediately. Then Sasuke would bolt. What was I to do?
"I was at my wit's end, I was seeing disappointment in my father's eyes all over again. I failed him. I couldn't keep a team together. But then he showed up." Sasuke exclaimed, "He was leading Juugo docilely by the hand. This amputee and together we were able find Suigetsu fresh water to rebuild himself. Apparently a bounty hunter filled Suigetsu's water bottles full of micro bits of vinegar."
Ouch . . . Mother nature's liqui-sponge. What better way to poison a Hoozuki clan member?
"He actually fully supported me. He supported my plans. Even encouraged them," Sasuke exclaimed. "Gyoza was an idiot who seemed too naïve to tell a lie. I knew he would be loyal to me and only me alone. He demonstrated so."
The build up; here comes the pay-off.
"Gyoza is a much better fighter than what he demonstrated to the others. I saw him fight very well and efficiently. Suigetsu warned me not to trust him but why shouldn't I? He was more confident than Suigetsu claimed him to be." Sasuke muttered, "We ran out of funds and Gyoza was the one who picked out the best targets. He always went with my personal plan." Sasuke swallowed thickly, "He even gave us all of his life savings to remove any doubt but I found out too late."
Sasuke motioned to the jutsu that was currently sucking on his chakra and burning him alive.
"Gyoza had recreated the Katon: Tenrō seal he'd given me a medicine for my injuries but it's a blasted HOAX!" Sasuke snapped, his fist pounded his leg. His torso turned white hot as smoke curled up. "I'm connected to the demon's chakra. Kyuubi has full control now of whether I live or die."
. . . Ah crud . . . according to secondhand rumor Katon: Tenrō seal needs chakra to activate and Naruto just gave him a steady supply of untainted Kyuubi Chakra. Kyuubi's will could literally be burning through Sasuke's veins. It made my head hurt to think the idiot who blew our butts off with a sawed off shotgun was the same genius who figured out a way to Booby Trap Sasuke of all people. The man who never went to anyone for help unless he had a hidden agenda or something in him broke. The tremor of his fidgeting foot a barometer to the height of his pain.
"Sasuke did you do a background check on your employee before you hired him?" I asked slowly. The last Uchiha refrained from a comforting squeeze on the shoulder.
"No I did not."
"You know better than this Sasuke. Bottom line, always do a background check with anyone you hire or anyone you work for. How many times have you fallen for the same confidence trick?"
Sasuke sat in silence before he mustered up the courage to instead of counting, listing names, "Obito Uchiha, Madara Uchiha, Itachi Uchiha . . . that one man . . . Orochimaru . . ."
The list goes on.
"And where has it gotten us? Personally?" I asked.
Sasuke mumbled his answer. I leaned in to hear him. Only to lean from his yell:
"I said I don't want to know! How can that idiot! That traitor be related to this!"
Sasuke gestured to the Katon: Tenrō seal on his torso.
"Because," I snapped back, "Sasuke your family and mentors were not specialists you outmaneuvered them eventually in the confidence trick. This guy is! Gyoza counted on the fact that you're aloof. That you're emotionally fragile with severe daddy issues and dishonest and power hungry and a psychiatrist's worst nightmare."
"Hey!" Sasuke coldly sneered.
"What? You think me trying to piece this altogether is easy? He was hoping for you to cheat." I responded, "Also you're not the first shinobi he's scammed. He performed a jutsu that was not a bloodline limit because technically bloodline, DNA, about as easy to track as pedigree poodles and instead used chemistry to perform Katon: Tenrō, this version of Katon: Tenrō seal relies on drugs to mimic the moulding of chakra and made your body perform the jutsu for you making you basically lock yourself out of your own proverbial house."
"How do you know all of this?" Sasuke exclaimed, "Last I checked it was Team 7 and I on the front lines."
Guilt tugged at my heart. I abused the Ninja Secret Clause so much so that the only information I had was second hand.
"Well, not all wars are fought on the front lines." I rebutted, "small businesses were competing to stay afloat and some of these scam artists actually didn't know any other line of work so either they apprenticed themselves, mooched off a beneficiary, or like Gyoza turned to what he knew best."
"You were trained to watch out for them," Sasuke responded.
"Well it is what Tsunade and I were arguing about back at Konoha, all these stragglers left over from the war don't have anywhere else to go." I stated, "Who knows maybe give them a chance."
"But it's a waste of resources," Sasuke exclaimed, "The Hate system that has plagued my village for generations when I take over I'm going to see to its purification."
Birds chirped to fill the awkward silence. I let out a breath of relief I didn't know I had. Sherlock Holmes now had Gyoza to take apart for now so I can say I kept up my end of the deal. Sasuke still had some growing to do but he was lucid, alive, and minus a few psychological problems slowly changing for the better. Everyone had their work cut out for them just solving this mystery. I had my work cut out for me making sure Sherlock Holmes didn't detect his way into an early grave or losing what little bond my friends had left.
"What if you don't get what you want? Much like right now?" I asked, "What are you going to do?"
Sasuke grimaced down at the seal.
"I'll work to mend what I broke." Sasuke repeated, "Foundations start small and a broken bond takes much longer to mend than to break."
"Pretty much," I stated, "Unless you also forgot the third thing. Bonds between loved ones crackle."
"Loved ones rarely do." Sasuke interjected.
If Sasuke wasn't hurting so much I'd hug him. Things didn't go according to plan. Footsteps crunched outside. I closed the door momentarily while the Uchiha fell into a light doze. I was met with several familiar faces in front of me.
"How is he?"
"Is he alright?"
"I'll give him a checkup later," Sakura stressed calmly getting many people to back off with the questions, particularly Sai, Naruto, Mrs. Hudson and Kakashi was peering over his book. The only one who didn't join in the crowding was Sherlock and Watson.
Watson hovered but Sherlock was there to gauge our reactions. I caught his eyes and extricated myself from the crowd. Sakura turning to me quickly gave a hissed reply:
"He hasn't run has he? From what I'd seen so far. Sherlock and Watson treated him like he's insane."
"I . . ." I complied to take Sakura further aside to talk to her, she's the smartest one of the bunch and right now the most level headed, "Can we get Watson and you to look at a small problem. On the good news I don't think Sasuke could get very far away."
