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It's...IT'S BEEN A MONTH AND SOME CHANGE! I'll just put it out there, and dodge the tomatoes y'all are probably getting ready to chuck at me.

I'm applying to colleges right now, which is a pain in my lovely buttocks. So please, be patient!

I hope you all enjoy this chapter, I had a little trouble starting out, but it all kinda started flowing once I got back into it. I really hope some people find the last POV as funny as I did, I was giggling while I wrote it, which doesnt usually happen.

Comments, critisisms, praise?

PLEASE REVIEW!

Chapter 16

My arms shook with exertion, sweat dripping down my forehead and slipping into the corners of my eyes. The stinging was secondary, the sensation so familiar that it was easy to ignore. I didn't once break my stare, keeping it locked onto the enemy. Granted, the target of my focus was only a wooden practice post, but that didn't mean I was going to give it any less attention than I would give an animated one. Muscles tensed as I prepared myself, and my fingers tightened around a kunai.

It had been two days since our return to Konoha. I had spent a majority of that time out here, training until I dropped from exhaustion, struggling to organize my unstable psyche.

Strands of hair were plastered to my forehead, falling in front of my eyes, and I stared at the wooden stump, glaring as if to pry all of the answers to my questions from its rough, worn surface. It, along with the other training grounds, had been some of the only things to survive the attack. The marks of thousands of kunai – the training ground had been here since the creation of the village, and so I supposed that nearly every shinobi had used the post at one point – marred the wood, and I sighed before straightening.

Had it really only been a week since seeing Hikari? It felt like so much longer, if I was being honest with myself. It felt like years had passed from the last time she smiled at me. It had been decades since I had held her in my arms. At least a few centuries had gone by since she had looked at me in that way of hers; like she knew that I was watching her, and wanted me to know that she watched me just as closely.

My face darkened, and I turned away from the training post, hating that the sight made me think of our first kiss. It had been raining, then. The light had been so soft and pale, like a comforting mist, and I fondly recalled her expression when the rain soaked her to the bone.

I steeled myself, staring up at the sky without a smile or a frown.

My sorrow had reached a limit. To sink lower into the despair would do nothing to help Hikari. It would only restrict my own abilities, and I needed to be at full capacity when I faced Madara. I would make that bastard pay, even if it resulted in my death. I loved Hikari, and would until the day I left this world. But some things surpassed love, and this particular act of revenge was one of them.

Madara had ruined my life. He had aided Itachi in killing my family, he had instigated the attack on Konoha, he had kidnapped Hikari and turned her into a mindless puppet. I needed – desperately needed – to make sure he wouldn't be able to inflict any more pain.

"Hikari, Hikari, Hikari…" I muttered, trying to accustom myself to the sound of her name. I refused to be afraid of the memories; I refused to ignore the fact that she was gone. Bottling up my sadness and anger would only lead to instability. I had learned that lesson first hand, and the memory wasn't pleasant. Itachi had died because of my refusal to accept the past. It would be an insult to his sacrifices to make the same mistakes.

I closed my eyes, letting the kunai fall through my fingertips. It hit the ground, and from the sound, I knew that it had landed tip first. The breeze blew, making the forest around me whisper sweet nothings to the sky. The sound was peaceful and calm, and if I tried, I could imagine Hikari standing on the edge of the trees.

It wasn't a sorrowful image, and I found myself smiling. Because in this daydream, she wasn't crying or telling me how sorry she was, as she had been in so many others.

Hikari was smiling, and it lit up her face until it was practically glowing. There was an immeasurable lightness in my chest, because she wasn't running away from me. I would find her, and recover her memories. The way to her was clear; all I had to do was be patient, and wait for the right moment to join her.

She was waiting for me.

I'll save you, I thought, and turned my back on the image, keeping her smile close to my heart. I looked at the position of the sun, and swore, stealing a glance at my watch. The digital numbers confirmed my estimation, and I sighed tiredly.

The idiot would throw a fit if I was late to lunch – oddly enough, Ichikaru's ramen shop had been one of the first things to be rebuilt – and so I began to run.

Tsunade sat, hands folded together in deep thought, her eyes staring at nothing in particular. Too many thoughts were rushing in at once, and she found that when she tried to focus on one problem, another would appear and prove itself more worthy of her anxiety. And so, after several minutes of frustration, she decided to push all of them aside. She sat, silently observing the details of her new office – situated in the large mansion that stood atop the Hokage monuments.

Below her, beyond the thick glass of her window, the villagers were working to rebuild various buildings. The first sector, the closest area to the outer wall, was almost completed, and the area was shiny and bright with vitality. Tsunade looked toward the sight, and couldn't help but feel a bit cheated. They were building over her past, in a sense. She knew that her bitterness was unfounded, and she looked at the new buildings, and struggled to see the streets that she had traversed as a child.

But they were gone. Just like everything else.

Waking up from her coma had been an ordeal, to say the least. It had been blissful, being unconscious. In the moment before she collapsed, when she poured nearly all of her chakra into her animal summon, she had thought that death awaited her. Tsunade had stepped into the darkness willingly, knowing that there were people she was leaving behind that would lead the village to peace.

It could all end, now.

Then, she had opened her eyes, and Shizune had immediately thrust herself on top of the Hokage, crying out her exclamations of relief. The older woman had been too shocked to do more than smile weakly, and then Shizune had sent a clone to go alert Sakura.

The girl had flashed to Tsunade's tent, and sea-foam eyes had widened, her lips parted in exertion. Shizune ran out to go fetch some medicines, which left the two of them alone. For the first few moments, all the young medic did was stare. Then, her face crumpled, and Tsunade – who was sitting up by that point, supported by at least twenty pillows – had silently opened her arms. Sakura fell into them, silently sobbing into Tsunade's shoulder.

It was the first time that Tsunade ever let Sakura cry without making a derisive comment. Normally, tears signified weakness. But when Sakura cried on that day, Tsunade couldn't help but hold her, because Sakura's tears made it clear exactly how much Tsunade had been missed. The tears made it perfectly plain how the stability of the world was hanging by a single thread.

The Akatsuki was disbanded, save for Tobi – who was secretly Madara Uchiha, which was just goddamn peachy – and his servant Zetsu. Hikari had been taken by Madara, and was, according to Sasuke, currently without her memories, serving Madara willingly. Madara had a plan – Kakashi said that Madara had called it the "Eye of the Moon" – to take over the world and control every living creature, creating a twisted sort of peace. The shinobi villages were suddenly allies, and the Kage were clamoring for war against this newly emerged enemy.

The older woman watched as the tiny specks of people ran around below, and let out a deep breath. Her hands flattened on the polished surface of the table, and her amber eyes flicked up to her right, looking for four familiar portraits. But alas, the paintings of the previous Hokage had been lost in the attack, and so she was met with nothing but pale blue wallpaper.

Even the dead had forsaken her. In this venture, she was alone.

The thought put something akin to courage into Tsunade's heart, and she stood from her desk, so abruptly that a few papers fell onto the freshly waxed floor. Pale blonde hair whipped around her as she marched across the room, her heels clicking with purpose as she went. Shizune was just preparing to knock, and gave a little yip of surprise when Tsunade threw open the door. Tsunade began walking down the hall, Shizune scrambling to follow.

"T-Tsunade-sama?"

"Send out the black-alert to all jounin leaders, clan heads, and ANBU captains. We've got a war to plan."

I finally know where I am. My prison is soft and brittle, deliciously warm and painfully scalding, blindingly bright and endlessly dark. I do not live in a physical body; I am comforted only with the realization that I am separate from my environment. I have no limbs, no eyes, and no fingers in which to feel.

And yet...I do feel. I do see. I know when it is dark and I know when it is cold. The energy in my little cage – for that is what I imagine my prison to resemble – pulses, a soothing rhythm. I am in the girl's mind; I am locked far beyond any source of power. I often wonder how I got here, or if I will ever return to my original body. There has to be a way…a way…

Time passes as time shouldn't pass, that much is clear. It passes painfully, as if each second is searing itself into my skin. Oh, wait, I have no skin. Then what is feeling this pain? How am I even thinking, if I have no body?

A sudden flush of warmth comes, and I sense something else within my vicinity. It is the girl, the one who has begun to visit me regularly – only when my world is dark. She is breathing quickly. Her rapid heartbeat fills the space of my prison, and it only takes me a second to realize that the energy pulsing in my light matches the beating of the girl's heart.

We are in sync.

Every time she comes, she speaks to me for a very long time. Most of the things she talks about are mysterious to me – such as "Master" and "Hokage". But sometimes, when she says certain things or feels certain emotions – "Suigetsu" gives me a small spark, and when she is confused I feel a deep rising within me, as if I am an ocean that longs to break free.

I do wish to break free. It is all I think about, and yet I know nothing of the outside world. I am merely a thing, a creature. Who, or what, am I? That is what I wish to know.

"Why do you want to get out?" she asks, the first question she has ever asked me. I am shocked to my core – if I even have one – and for a moment am at a loss of how to respond. I hardly ever respond to her rambling, except to ask for her to release me. I need to be free, it is a simple concept. But the reason behind my terrifying desire is a dark, unknown chasm that I dare not cross. And so I remain silent, and the only sound is the thumping of her heart – my essence drums as well, perfectly aligned with hers.

The girl slumps to the ground, and I can sense her fear. "I don't…I don't think I was supposed to be born. Master never explains anything to me anymore, and Suigetsu–" A flash of recognition! "—keeps telling me that 'she's in there, she's just fighting'. He obviously means you. You're the only thing in here that wants to get out! Why does he look so sad, and why do I…why do I…?"

Tears begin to fall, and their salty pureness makes me strangely guilty. Somehow, the simple confusion of this creature invokes such strong emotions in me, and I remain silent, listening with more interest than I ever displayed before.

"I hate that Suigetsu can't stand to look at me. I hate that he seems to be waiting for someone else. I hate these stupid emotions, I hate that I'm actually angry at him for…ARGH!" she shrieks, clutching her head and letting out a hair-raising scream. My prison vibrates, and the darkness seems to compress, uncomfortably so.

Finally, she quiets, sobbing, "I'm so lost…and no one is telling me why I feel this way. Suigetsu's always been there for me, I don't know what I'm doing that's wrong. I just want him…to look at me, and say my name. He keeps saying your name, and I just want to kill him! Why can't he say my name? Why am I even TALKING TO YOU?"

She screams again, louder this time. I shrink back as the pressure returns, shaking and trembling and terrible. Terror and pity flash through me, quick as lightening, and I am left wondering how I am feeling these emotions. I am nothing more than a prisoner, how is it that this girl, this unstable girl, is able to grant me the power to feel?

I am utterly confused to what the girl is talking about, and yet…I feel an inkling of something deeper. Something more substantial is swelling through me, and I can almost taste the memories. The girl had been speaking of "her" for many visits now and this time was the first time I had seen her so broken. Had she discovered something about me? Was I this "other person" she had spoken of? How was…

Unless this body was actually mine.

Yes, that would explain everything! Our pulse has always been the same, and when she screams, I can feel soreness, as if I am screaming even though I am physically unable. It would explain the prison and the sense of loss whenever she visits me; I am not supposed to be in this cage, I am supposed to be free!

Her face is streaked with hopeless tears, and she keens a deafening lament.

I find the power to speak.

"Who am I?" I demand, my voice stronger than I would have thought possible. Hope flits across like a waving banner, and I can hardly contain my eagerness. My light flashes and flares like a roaring fire.

She slowly looks up at me, the resentment still present in her eyes, and the darkness fading. It is time for her to leave, and I cling to her as if to force her to answer. Her lips tremble, as if the knowledge causes her a great pain, and her image is flickering, fading, vanishing.

"Hikari."

And I am alone. The prison shifts ever so slightly, the constraints loosening a tad, and I am drowning in sensation.

Emotions flood my chest and images flash before my eyes – I have eyes! – and I fall to the ground, which I had never felt before. Long hair covers my face as I twist and jerk, struggling to keep up with the bombardment.

Pain. Fear. Sadness. Anger. Amusement. Affection. Freedom. Resentment. Confusion. Terror. Comfort. Kindness. Guilt. Shame. Love–

"Sasuke!" I scream, my voice filling the silence, more solid and hoarse than before. I gasp for breath, my naked body heaving and sighing as I recover. I am trembling, and I manage to sit up. My hands are shaking uncontrollably, and my lips are spreading in a grin of wild longing.

Dark onyx eyes. Handsome features. Large, calloused hands that are so much bigger than mine. A low voice, full of an emotion that I cannot name. His strength, his stubbornness, his determination, his love.

Wetness graces my cheeks, and I tilt my head upward, letting them fall.

"Sasuke…I remember you…"

A dark-skinned man in his mid-thirties was seated on a boulder, watching the lightening thunder across the skies. It was fitting for the Land of Lightning, and the Kumogakure shinobi would have been disappointed if the weather had been any different. The man was wearing black sunglasses, and just under his left eye was tattooed a curved bull horn. His arms were bulky and strong, and the great muscles shifted when the man got to his feet, rapping cheerily.

"Man I've been sittin' way too long, My back's a total mess, Why does my back hurt so much, well that's anybody's guess!"

That's the first rhyming one I've heard in at least a decade, a deep resounding voice commented sourly, and the man grinned, bobbing his head in agreement. The shinobi finished stretching, and began walking along the stone path. In his pocket was a small scroll that his older brother had given him the night before.

It read:

Bee,

The Kage are meeting in three days. I need you to be there, so be sure to arrive on time. The Konoha jinchuriki will there, and it may be decided that you and the boy go to the place we discussed. Be prepared.

~ A

Bee strolled along, lightly considering how long it would take to reach the Land of Iron. If he hurried, he would get there in a day or so, so he decided that a slow jog was the most efficient speed. The Eight-Tails spoke once more, his tone grim.

This isn't going to end well, I can sense it.

Yup, Bee agreed, and the Tailed Beast sighed at Bee's cheerful tone, but seemed resigned to the fact that Bee could not be roused to seriousness, not even in the face of a war.

Suddenly, a chakra signature flared, and Bee froze. Eight-Tails shifted inside of his mind, preparing for a fight. Bee did not tense, instead closing his eyes to better feel out the strange presence. Bee called his chakra to attention, and Eight-Tails added his chakra to the motion, and an octopus leg snapped out into the field of boulders, faster than the human eye could track.

A blur flashed just before the chakra hit, and Bee opened his eyes to see a cloaked figure standing there. The cloak was patterned with blood-red clouds, and Bee felt his wariness rising steadily. Akatsuki, hm? Bee had been told that they had disbanded…apparently not.

The shinobi had clammy blue skin, with gills present under his beady yellow eyes. A mouth full of shark-like teeth parted as he breathed, and a tall, thick body leaned against a bandaged sword of immense size.

"Huh. You remind me of a friend of mine. Got that sushi feel to you…" Bee said lightly, and the shinobi's face did not shift in the slightest. His hand tightened around the handle of his sword, and Bee called up chakra to his feet, in case of a quick attack.

You better not be referring to me, brat, Eight-Tails grumbled, and Bee just smiled cheekily. The Kumogakure shinobi stood, relaxed, and began to rap. The fight would be over quick, and so he decided to spare a little time for his art.

"Sushi's really good and stuff, The rice going fluff fluff, In the metal cooker–"

Bee was forced to jump out of the way, because the enemy had decided to start the battle. The darker skinned man growled, landing lightly on a boulder, glaring down at the Akatsuki member, who was smiling wickedly.

I can't believe he broke my groove! Bee snarled, and Eight-Tails made an effort to look angry as well, while barely concealing an eye-roll.

Yes, such a shame. That one was really turning out to be a crowd-pleaser...can we kill him now? Eight-Tails suggested, a gleeful edge to his usually solemn demeanor.

Hells to the yes!

A simple yes would have sufficed, you overenthusiastic idiot.

Bee snickered, called the Eight-Tails cloak to his skin, and attacked the blue-skinned shinobi with gusto.