** Chapter 7: Mysteries and Revelations**

YO! Heh it's me again! I am soo happy that so far readers seem to like LttE! Okeah, as this chapters suggests, there will be some things revealed.. hweh hweh! I am so sorry for taking so long to update. If it will stop you from killing me, it was because my life has been in an upheaval of late, and I have plotted out almost 10 of the upcoming chapters… so please leave me with my life! So you may have wondered what was up with the lack of Konan… well she is not in this story, because I am just not feeling her character. Sorry to all you Konan fans… Shout out to all my reviewers, followers and favoriters! Thank you Psuedobeast, MissMeep and KiyomiShizuru! Without further ado…

Flashback is written in italics.

'Thoughts in italics and enclosed in quotes'

Normal writing is in normal text.

"Dialogue is in normal text enclosed in open and closed quotations."

'Black Zetsu and Kyuubi speak in bold italics enclosed in quotations.'

Bold text shows time frames and places.

Previously on Left to the Elements:

Tsunade had left the room for a pick-me-up when the window to the ward slid open and four shinobi silently crept through the opening and stood over the comatose scout with weapons drawn. The leader of the group stopped the one who had been about to give the fatal slash across the throat and pointed instead to the cables and IV drips that were connected to the redheaded male on the table. Removing the life support tubes and cables would ensure the death of the scout without the gore and conspicuousness of spilled blood, and would stop the scout from waking up sooner or later and spilling information that the Akatsuki clearly wanted kept secret. The leader grabbed the cables, and pulled.

oooOooo

Tsunade spit out a short curse as she realized she had left the patient's chart on the table, and that she would have to walk halfway back up the hall to get back to his room. His current data needed to be logged for the medics on the graveyard shift. She turned around and stalked back along the now quiet hallway to Atsuro's ward, running her fingers impatiently through her hair. She pulled the bands from her ponytails and shook out her blonde hair, pushing Atsuro's ward door open with one hand. The breeze from the open window of the ward sent Tsunade's hair fluttering behind her. Wait, what? She hadn't left the window open! Alarm coursed through Tsunade's body and she ran over to the open window and looked outside, her eyes scanning for anything that looked out of the ordinary. A slither of suspicion and the very faint sound of rushing air had her turning around and looking at the patient on the bed beside her. He was still breathing, but only faintly. A more serious look made Tsunade's heart skip a beat. The IV tubes had been pulled from his torso, and the other respiratory-aid tubes had been disconnected from the nozzle connected to Atsuro's nostrils. Tsunade's efficient right hand immediately began to travel over the body of the comatose man even as the index finger of her left hand pushed chakra into the biometric intercom device on the wall above Atsuro's bed.

"Takuno, get a Special Forces medic team to room 355, NOW! I need gurneys and stabilizers. Also send a set of monitors in here for briefing," Tsunade yelled into the intercom.

"Hai, Tsunade-sama! I'm on it," Takuno replied, his tone reassuring Tsunade that the aide was already getting the team put together. "I will send the paperwork up to Shizune-san's office, Tsunade-sama," Takuno continued. Moments later, the door burst open and a four-man team of Special Forces medics rushed into the room, wordlessly beginning to reconnect the tubes and aiding Tsunade with the chakra healing. Right behind them, another medic rushed in with a gurney and a trolley stocked with stabilizers. The Special Forces medics lifted Atsuro's body firmly, but carefully, and rested him on the gurney. Before his body was even let go by the Special Forces medic team, the last medic was injecting Atsuro with controlled amounts of stabilizer fluids. A white cloth was draped over him and the Special Forces team wheeled him out of the room.

"Take him to B3, room 46," Tsunade ordered.

"Hai, Tsunade-sama," the team chorused as they wheeled the comatose redhead to the underground wards where patients with sensitive information were kept. The medic that had brought the stabilizers, Fukari, ran off to seal Atsuro's records as 'RESTRICTED'. As soon as Fukari exited the room, four grey suited shinobi slipped soundlessly into the room.

"Tsunade-sama," they chorused. Tsunade briefed them on the situation.

"Keep the patient under close watch 24/7. Do not, I repeat, do not take your eyes off him." Tsunade went on to give them some unrestricted particulars of the patient. "I don't know who it was that tried to kill him, but we think they might be connected to the Akatsuki," she continued, exhaustedly running her hands over her face as she paused in the open doorway. "And somebody lock the damned window," she barked impatiently, before stalking from the room.


"I thought Yachiru-san always looked gorgeous, but today she doesn't look so good," Tobi remarked blandly, his voice a bit tinny from behind his mask. He wasn't lying. It was roughly 7:00am and Yachiru did not look as gorgeous as usual. In fact, her white hair seemed to be uncooperative this particular morning. There were bags under her eyes and her skin looked a bit paler, but not in a good way. However, she was not alone in her uncharacteristically unappealing state, and was joined by none other than the ever gorgeous Uchiha Itachi, and the usually dapper Hidan. She dropped unceremoniously to the chair at the breakfast table and groaned out loud. Itachi's 'Hn' was more of a 'Hnnnn' and lacked its usually cryptic edge, and the only words Hidan spoke were curses. Their bad day mood seemed to have leeched its way into Kisame and Kakuzu as well, with the latter still grousing about something.

"Shut up, Tobi. Hidan's nasty stew killed my appetite last night and I went to bed without eating. I feel lousier than I look," Yachiru moaned.

"That bad, huh?" Kisame said with a sorry excuse for a grin. Yachiru rolled her eyes.

"Tobi can make you all feel much better," Tobi chimed in, immediately receiving stares of both irritation and hope from the others at the table. Irritation, because he had no right to be this chipper when they felt so lousy, and hope, because they really hoped he could take them out of the shitty mood. "Tobi will make you guys some lovely coffee," the masked man declared, placing his hands on his hips before fairly skipping off to the kitchen and humming a light, carefree tune.

"Fucking Tobi," Hidan groused. They sat in grumpy silence awaiting Tobi's return with the coffee.

"Does anyone know where that goo and the pot of death disappeared to?" Hidan was mumbling as Tobi came back into the dining area with a tray of steaming coffee. "I don't remember taking it up last night… oh fucking Jashin, that smells good," Hidan said, his voice trailing off as he inhaled the scent of the coffee.

There was the sound of collective choking and sputtering around the room as everyone took their first reverent sip of the coffee. Those who hadn't tasted Hidan's Stew of Death the night before were tasting it now, and those who had, particularly Itachi, were experiencing tremor-inducing flashbacks of the unpalatable goo.

"Tobi must have taken it," Yachiru groaned, looking even sicker than before. Kakuzu tried to get up, but his knees were shaking as he tried to cross the room to get to Tobi.

"So many places have a bounty on your head, Tobi, and after I kill you I will only have to choose one," the large man declared, stumbling a bit under the effects of the nasty brew.

"What did you put in this sh- this stew of yours, Hidan?" Itachi ground out harshly, coming as close to cursing as Yachiru had ever heard. His Sharingan was activated.

"Eh… I kinda just threw everything in, and then added more stuff," Hidan mumbled, scratching the back of his head. "I think the main ingredient was Flower Fresh… it smelled nice."

"F-f-flower fresh?" Yachiru stuttered. "Damn it, Hidan! That is fabric softener! That is not even edible!" The other Akatsuki members sweatdropped as one. How did Hidan even begin to presume that something called 'Flower Fresh' could be something edible, regardless of how good it smelled? Kisame tried to get up and punish Hidan, but his legs wobbled so much he resigned himself to a seated position until the effects of the Coffee of Death wore off.


Two hours later, the Akatsuki members were more or less back to normal. Yachiru had recovered enough to make a decent breakfast for everyone, and they were all relieved to find out that it was edible, as well as tasty… but especially edible!

At the moment, Itachi was in the library, Hidan was in his room and was in the midst of a Jashinist ritual, Deidara was in his room sculpting clay explosives, Kakuzu was counting the Akatsuki money again, Kisame and Yachiru were in the living area relaxing and Tobi was… where was Tobi?


"So, when are you planning to tell me what happened in Shinringakure?" Kisame drawled from where he sat on the sofa. His feet were spread wide and he was slouched in a classic display of both bad posture and lazy comfort. Samehada was leaning against the inside of his left leg. From her position on her back on the opposite sofa, Yachiru turned her eyes toward Kisame in question.

"You're still thinking about that?" Kisame chuckled at her question.

"Well, seeing that you're not wearing that outfit to distract me, and I have nothing else to really think about at the moment, of course I am thinking about that. We usually create a bit more ruckus when we kill someone that high up on the food chain," Kisame said, leveling a round-eyed stare on Yachiru.

"I guess there is no use concealing it anymore." Yachiru sat up in the sofa and allowed her mind to drift back to a week ago when she had been in the office of Miramori Oora.

A large room, Miramori's office was painted a deep grey with burgundy trimmings at the top and bottom of the walls. The majority of the items in the room were silver, and some bronze. A large scroll rack adorned the wall on one corner, and it was locked by a glass door that was crystal clear and shined to perfection. Miramori's desk was large and was set in the center of the room on a deep burgundy rug. The desk was devoid of items apart from the writing apparatus and scroll as well as a teardrop-shaped paperweight.

"You can leave the trolley, Sato-san. I'll eat as soon as I'm done this," Miramori said absently. He frowned a little when he realized 'Sato-san' was not leaving, and looked up.

'What am I supposed to do now?' Yachiru thought, hoping her surprise and nervousness did not show on her face. 'At least you aren't feeling repulsion. He is pretty good looking.'

"I'm not Sato-san," Yachiru said, pushing a smile to her face. Miramori added a little curve to the end of the last kanji he was writing and gently rested the brush in its holder next to his inkwell.

"Are you new here? I don't remember hiring you, and a face like yours is not one I would forget even if I did partake of my stock." Miramori gave Yachiru a lopsided smile that made her heart skip a beat. 'Really, Yachiru? What is it with you and men? Itachi, Hidan and now the guy you were sent to kill? I guess I can't help it if they are steaming… I am only human after all, right?' Yachiru thought, trying desperately to settle herself mentally. It wasn't really working.

"I don't work here at all. See…" she walked over to his desk and perched on the corner of the wooden top. "You have some very satisfied customers…" she walked the fingers of her right hand across the top of the desk until they rested against the tips of Miramori's slim fingers. "And they sent me here to…" she put her other hand to her throat to tug at the catch of the brown cloak. "Well, to thank you for your great service," she continued, allowing the cloak to fall from her shoulders and drop to a brown pool around her hips where they rested on the desk. Miramori's eyelids slid lower and there was a muted heat in his light brown eyes which had darkened considerably. He swallowed, and took a sharp appreciative breath that pushed his chest upwards.

He turned his hand over and took the fingertips of her right hand in his, which was considerably warmer than before. His hand was strong, dry and warm. Yachiru's eyelids had drooped to the point where she could see her own white lashes which blurred the top of her scope of vision. Miramori stroked her palm gently with his thumb.

"And which client was this?" he asked, his voice thick and husky as his eyes drank in the sight of her barely covered self. Yachiru could tell from his absent tone that he was concentrating on something other than the current conversation, namely her heaving chest.

"Mmm, if I told you, then you might not treat all your customers as well as you do," Yachiru murmured, wondering where her voice had gone. It was also getting harder to keep the focus of her mission in mind the more Miramori stroked her hand. It was a simple contact, but his hand was quite obviously practiced, and the effect was not at all lost on Yachiru. When Miramori wrapped his fingers around her wrist and tugged gently, but firmly, Yachiru found herself moving without pause towards him. In so doing, her body left the table and the brown cloak dropped to the floor with a vague 'plop'. Yachiru didn't even hear it, and tripped over the material as she stepped to Miramori. Her feet catching in the brown cloak, Yachiru felt herself tipping forward and she helplessly fell right into Miramori's lap.

"Miramori-san," she gasped. She was draped across his lap in an awkward twisted position, having turned her body at the last minute in reflex. Her back arched over his thighs and her right hand twisted painfully behind her, Yachiru was in a pretty much helpless position. Miramori's body was simply radiating heat through his thin yet expensive black shirt.

"Call me Oora," Miramori said, his voice a mere whisper. He released her wrist, slid his hand around her back and effortlessly pulled her upwards to a sitting position across his lap. He smelled of something clean and spicy and manly; not like the slightly earthy musk of a shinobi. Alarm coursed through Yachiru at the thought. She was supposed to be seducing him, not the other way around! Her train of thought met an untimely end when Oora's lips settled firmly over hers. She stiffened in shock for a fraction of a second, and then melted. Instinctively, her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders to hold herself in place. Oora was not even trying to part her lips with his. Instead, he was pressing short gentle kisses over her lips with his firmer, harder ones.

He ran his tongue across her lower lip then pulled back and nudged her cheek with his nose while turning her slightly on his lap so he could get a better angle. Yachiru could focus on nothing more than his warm breath which was whispering over the corner of her mouth, and the way his hands tightened around her waist. She struggled to focus on what it was that her brain was desperately trying to remind her… but then Oora dipped forward again and claimed her mouth again in a damp, steamy kiss. His breathing had long since become choppy, but he was getting serious now, and his breathing pattern was becoming more uneven and more audible.

"What's your name?" he choked out in a short pause between kisses. Yachiru opened her mouth to answer, but her brain was so foggy that she couldn't quite wrap her head around what it was he was asking. Instead of her name, a short gasp was all that made it past her lips. Oora apparently couldn't wait any more for something as unimportant as her name, and claimed her mouth again. Yachiru gasped again, this time in a bit of shock as Oora's hands began moving. Itachi's face floated into her mind without warning, and suddenly kissing Oora was not as pleasurable as it had milliseconds before. Her heart still pounding, Yachiru pulled herself off Oora's lap. This was not the time to get caught up in Oora's expert lovemaking, even though, from this mere prologue, Yachiru had a feeling he was very good at what he intended to do. The temptation to see it through was… well it would have been large if Itachi's face hadn't almost completely ruined her mood.

"And then what?" Kisame pressed. "What happened?" Yachiru blinked. She had almost confessed to Kisame that seeing Itachi's face in her mind's eye had made her game with Oora that much less fun.

"And then I remembered the mission," she managed, hoping her blue friend would not catch her white lie.

"Oh, so then what happened next?" Kisame urged. He had leaned forward while listening intently, his elbows on his knees.

Yachiru stood suddenly, her lips breaking contact with Oora's. At her sharp movement, his desire-glazed eyes shot to her face in confusion. 'Dammit, Uchiha! Why did your face have to pop up now?' Yachiru screamed in her brain. Her heart was pounding again, but for a different reason. Sensing her hesitance, but not knowing why, Oora immediately assumed it was her first time. He smiled gently.

"Don't worry, beautiful. I will be gentle," he said huskily. Yachiru felt a little miffed that he thought it was her first time, but then she couldn't remember if it was her first time or not. Surely it wasn't, right? She took advantage of the situation so she could conceal the real reason she had hesitated. She didn't want to kill Oora… he was too cute. What she really wanted to do was banish stupid Itachi from her brain, and play with Oora all night. Trying to delay her mission, whose objective was getting harder with each look from Oora's eyes, with each touch of his fingers, with each of his throaty whispers... Reaching forward, she took his wrist and pulled him up from his chair and led him to the wall.

Yachiru looked up into his eyes and almost drowned in the heated desire she saw there. She felt her back hit the wall the same time he bent slightly and gripped her hips, lifting her so she was level with him. Holding her in place by pressing his body firmly against her so she was squeezed between his torso and the wall, Oora tipped her chin upwards and began to kiss her again. His lips moved more purposefully than before; he was seducing her, trying to make her feel good, and he would have succeeded if Hidan's head hadn't joined Itachi's disapproving one in her mind's eye. When Yachiru pulled her dampened lips from Oora's, he didn't stop. This time, he dipped his head to the curve of her neck and pressed hot, wet little kisses on her soft skin. At the same time, his hands dropped to her exposed thighs and his fingers traced down to her knees, which he gripped and pulled so her legs wrapped around his waist. Oora's ministrations were almost thoroughly ruined by Hidan's and Itachi's heads in her mind, staring at her in disapproval. Damn them. Damn them both.

Yachiru let her legs slide back down and she gently pushed Oora away from her. Before Oora could respond, she turned him around pushed him up against the wall. He grinned rakishly at the force she used and moaned his approval at her taking control. Yachiru pressed hurried kisses to his masculine throat then pulled him down to the floor. He sat with his back to the wall and his knees bent, and pulled her in between his legs where she felt with no doubt the evidence of his arousal. When his grip became firmer and his movements full of intent, Yachiru knew she had to act fast. She pulled away from him and made eye contact with him, avoiding his advances and simply staring deep into his eyes.

Thinking of her actions as some seduction game, Oora smiled willingly but impatiently, and allowed her to 'lead'. Yachiru raised her hands, keeping eye contact with Oora and slowly moved her fingers. Yachiru was hoping that Oora would be so focused on making eye contact with her that he would not notice the water snaking out of the pitcher on the food tray and forming a clear, watery glob above their heads.

Yachiru overestimated Oora's patience and underestimated the power his touch had over her, for when Oora grinned slightly and slipped his hands under her short skirt his touch sent pleasure rippling through her legs and lower stomach, almost causing her to drop the water blob on their heads. This time, she readily pulled Itachi's and Hidan's images to the forefront of her mind to counter the effect of Oora's touch. Thinking she was doing some sort of dance, Oora allowed his eyes to trail lazily over her chest and waist. He pulled one hand from her thighs and stroked the line of clasps on the front of the corset with his index finger. Yachiru's breath hitched in her throat as the faces in her mind faded almost to nonexistence. She had to do this before Oora killed her resolve.

"Lean back," she whispered tremulously. Oora's eyes darkened in anticipation and he obediently leaned back against the wall. Yachiru made sure Oora was looking directly into her eyes then pulled the ball of water right over his head. He gulped in shock, swallowing some of the water in the process. Yachiru swallowed, hating the confusion in Oora's eyes and pushed the water into his nostrils and open mouth. Bubbles filled the watery ball around his head and his strong hands attempted to knock her away, but she held fast. Realizing that he would soon push her off, Yachiru froze the water around his head and jumped back from his jerking, writhing body. She stared at how his body twitched and how his hands clutched at the ice around his face, and felt her stomach sink at the knowledge that he would inevitably die. After what felt like forever, Oora's body stopped moving and lay limp on the floor. Yachiru knelt next to his body and pressed her hand to his chest. There was nothing. No movement behind his still warm chest. Yachiru grit her teeth and pressed her hand to the ice covering his face. It melted beneath her touch as she changed its state of matter back to liquid. Pulling what was once ice from Oora's face and hair, Yachiru deposited the water back in the jug. Her movements became methodical and the sight of Oora's body twitching in the last throes of life replayed in her head. She fished one long strand of red hair from the jug and wrapped it around her finger before turning to leave. Pausing for a second, she turned and took one last look at Oora.

He was laying on the floor, his eyes wide even in death and his mouth open. Yachiru blinked against the stinging in her eyes and decided she could not leave him like that. Pushing his body into a neater seated position, Yachiru closed Oora's eyelids with her fingers and locked his gaping jaw. She neatened his clothes, ran a drying gust of air over his face and hair, then moved away from his body. Straightening her clothes, Yachiru picked her brown cloak from off the floor and stalked out of Oora's office.

"You drowned him. Froze the water in his throat so he couldn't hack it up." Kisame let his eyes wander to her hands, an inexplicable expression glittering in their circular balls. Yachiru sighed.

"I bet you think I am a… I am silly aren't I? I felt bad about killing him," Yachiru moaned.

"You're a girl. And I bet you only felt bad because he might have been a good lay," Kisame teased, his eyes twinkling mischievously. Yachiru grinned and tossed a cushion at his head. It missed by a mile.

"There was no might have about it, Hoshigaki," she replied, chuckling. "I know he would have been good." Yachiru pouted. "Stupid client. They could have at least waited until after I tried him out before they wanted him dead…"

Leaning against the wall right outside the sparring room door, Itachi ground his jaw. So, she had drowned him, then. It was no wonder there wasn't any evidence of anyone being on their trail. No one knew about Yachiru's connection with them apart from the Konoha scout who evidently saw them, and he was already taken care of. Still, it burned his pride a little that Yachiru had chosen Kisame to tell instead of him, and he was not about to think about why, even though he knew. He was attracted to her, because she was different. But he would never let anyone know that, and he would forget about it. Besides, she was close to Kisame, right?


Two days later, the effects of Tobi's trick were still in motion. Hidan was almost dying. He hadn't cursed in half hour and it was so excruciating he could hardly think. 'Damn it, Jashin! Why this?' he thought. It seemed as if the time that Jashin chose to test him, to forbid him from cursing, was the time where things around the Akatsuki hideout were that much more frustrating. Life among the other Akatsuki members seemed unbearable for the usually foul-mouthed Jashinist because his outlet had been taken from him.

"Hey, gramps, you were late for dinner, so there isn't really any left…" Kisame mumbled, poking his head into Hidan's room.

"Wh-What?" Hidan screamed. Kisame grinned sharkishly and shrugged.

"It's your fault for not coming on time," the blue man said without remorse.

"Eh?" Hidan screamed again. "Fff….. For cryin' out loud, Kisame! No one called me! How was I to know?" Kisame walked into the room and stared unapologetically at Hidan who was struggling not to blow a fuse. Yachiru and Tobi stepped in right behind Kisame.

"What's the issue?"

"Why is Hidan-san screaming like a little child?" Tobi asked the same time Yachiru spoke.

"He didn't come to dinner," Kisame elaborated.

"No one f- no one called me!" Hidan yelled again, his face red from the effort it took not to curse.

"Tobi called him," Yachiru said, raising one white eyebrow. "He must not have heard." She nudged a Jashinist talisman with her toe. "Maybe he was too busy with Jashin," she mumbled under her breath, but loud enough for Hidan to hear. Hidan was trembling. The door to Hidan's room burst open again and Kakuzu stormed inside.

"HIDAN!" he roared. "You sneaky bastard. You stole half a million ryou from me!" Everyone in the room blinked silently. They were all thinking the same word. Shit.

"J-Jashin-sama…" All eyes travelled to Hidan. Hidan paused, and then folded his arms. "I didn't steal anything from you, you miserly old rag doll. You're only missing what we would have gotten if we had killed those shinobi early this week like I asked you to." There was a flash of movement, the sound of a kunai whistling as it arced through the air, a muted gurgle, and the thump when Hidan's head hit the floor. Yachiru, Kisame and Tobi blinked mutely. Blood dripped off the tip of Kakuzu's kunai and onto the top of Hidan's severed head.

"FFuuuhhhh - Kakuzu! What the hell?" Hidan yelled, his eyes bulging. Kakuzu frowned in annoyance, picked up the left foot of Hidan's beheaded body and dragged the body out of the room by the ankle.

"When you're ready to give my money back to me, you can have your body back," Kakuzu said over Hidan's offensive screams that for once were devoid of expletives.

"Kakuzu! You four-hearted monster! How do you expect me to fill my empty a- belly without my body on? KAKUZU! I hate you! I am gonna crack your masks and sacrifice you to Jashin-sama! Just you wait, you old crone! Puu… Put my head back on NOW, or I swear I will… Oi! Wait!" Hidan screamed as Kisame, Yachiru and Tobi turned to exit the room. "Hey! One of you, pick my head up! Don't leave me here like this! Argh! I hate the lot of you!" Hidan screamed at their backs. He was about to scream some more, but the door to the room slammed shut behind Tobi's back. "Damn it," Hidan mumbled. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?" He sweatdropped and sighed. There was a long trail of blood across the floor. Ugh. Who was going to clean that up?

"Oh, Jashin-sama… help me…"


The stones and dirt crunched under the shoes of the trio as they walked in absolute silence. They had information… information their leader needed to know. Kurokka Yachiru was alive.

AN:- SO SORRY ABOUT THE SHORT CHAPTER! I will try not to make this a habit… please forgive me! Thanks to MissMeep for her help! Okay, as usual, please review!