So with this chapter we say goodbye to one of the major arcs of this story. I decided that the story needed a bit of closure with this arc, so here it is. And now we will be getting into the second big arc of the story, although maybe perhaps not as big. I'm not quite happy with the multiple changes in POV in this chapter but it couldn't be helped it seemed. I did some math and planning recently and we're only just over the halfway mark with Samurai. So there's that! The response to this story has been great, and I love it and hope to keep delivering a story that you all enjoy reading :)

Now for the funfacts…

Funfact: If Hollywood had its way, childbirth would be a sudden, watery, bloody, scary, painful thing. Make no mistake, there is a trickle of water (not buckets falling to the floor), and there is blood (but not a gushing hallway of it The Shining—style). It was also probably not a little scary before there were such things as ultrasounds to find out if a baby is turned correctly, etc. From what I found (not going into the gross bodily fluids) having a kid is mostly just a lot of waiting, with some level of subjective pain associated.

Funfact: I fudged things a bit with the "taking Asuma out to get smashed," part but that is something that actually happens. It was too fun not to include as something carried as a time-honored tradition. And, you know, plot.

Funfact: If Asuma had a son, then that son could be controlled by the Sarutobi clan like Asuma himself. If he had a daughter then he could have her marry out of the clan and be "free."

Funfact: Poorer samurai and their families "took in work," to add to their income. That's what Sakura is doing with the commissions from the villagers. It became increasingly common in the 18th century and many samurai did so in the 19th century as the entire system put in by the Tokugawa broke down. By the 19th century, most samurai were bureaucrats who worked as clerks or the like. They still knew their way around a sword, but samurai from the 1500s and 1600s wouldn't recognize them.

Funfact: In the mid-1600s Portuguese and Spanish missionaries sometimes smuggled themselves into Japan to try and find out what was happening to Japanese Christians. They usually were pretty horrified at what they found.

Funfact: There actually were a few Japanese citizens who travelled all the way to Europe, and apparently had families while they were there. There is the surname Japon in Spain referencing the descendants of Japanese men travelling with a Japanese embassy to the Vatican.

Funfact: Look up Hasekure Tsunenaga, he was a pretty awesome dude. Hopefully I'll get some pictures of him up on the blog.

Well, without further ado (and an apology for the long wait),

Enjoy!

Tenzou's voice calling out from the yard that she had a visitor was still startling, but after a week Sakura was starting to get used to it. After Taeko and Ito visited, there was a scramble to commission the rest of Sakura's time. In the midst of the rush, Sakura was also paid a visit by Sarutobi-sama. Her mother made tea for them, and then went back to Sakura's embroidery room to sit with Masaki—Sakura's father was writing out the contracts which would transfer his business and his Iimori home to one of his employees. Pakkun, quite happily lazy in Kakashi's absence, snored at her side. He had been far too small to form any real attachment to Sarutobi, and so the man's presence did nothing to excite him.

"This, I believe, is for you," he said softly, after she had served each of them. In his hand was a carefully folded sheet of paper. Sakura reached between them and took it, tracing a fingertip over her name. She could fee Sarutobi's studying gaze on her as she briefly bowed in thanks before tucking the letter into her obi. It would probably be impolite to read it in front of him.

"Is he…"

"No, he told me that he hasn't yet found my son. The letter is dated three days ago, the courier delivered it early this morning. I have him staying on for another day or so at my estate, if you wish me to include your reply with my own letter," his old eyes were kind. Sakura looked down quickly, just catching a glimpse at the paper which peeked out from where she'd put it. She didn't want to make him wait, or to have him witness her reactions to the letter, and was about to say so before the shoji leading to the garden was roughly opened by Tenzou.

In the doorway stood Asuma, holding his wife in his arms. Sarutobi stared up at his nephew in apparent shock, while Sakura stared—quite startled—at the sight of her neighbors. Kurenai had her arms crossed over her chest, put out at the fact that her husband hadn't let her walk. Asuma was pale and sweat dotted his forehead—he seemed to have carried Kurenai the entire way. Tenzou, who had opened the shoji for them heaved a long sigh. He stood up and tugged Asuma into the house, followed by Sai who ghosted behind him. He called softly for Ume to come at once, as Sai coaxed Asuma into setting Kurenai on her own two feet.

"But it's too early—" Sakura started to say, at last figuring out just what was going on.

"Babies come early, and they come late, Sakura, that is the way of them—only they know when they are ready and you had best get used to it. Come, help me," Ume said before she turned her attention to Kurenai, whispering some encouragement or other when the woman groaned a little. Sakura bowed to Sarutobi briefly and stood up, following her mother. Kurenai had asked just days ago if she could have her child in the Hatake household, and to have Sakura and Ume's help—she could ask for attendants from the main Sarutobi estate, but she barely knew them, she'd said.

Masaki saw the three women coming into the room and immediately knew their purpose—he left with all haste.

"Have you been in pain long?"

"It started this morning, but I thought it was just the baby being temperamental—again. Asuma overreacted entirely, but he's been stressed for…Ahh," Kurenai grimaced, holding her hands on her back as she limped across the room. Sakura went to her side and offered an arm to lean on. Kurenai squeaked in pain every so often, not bothering to hide it from them as she had her husband. She felt a bit silly asking, but she was curious.

"Now what do we do?" Ume smiled as she got out several old, worn yukata for them to change into.

"We wait, and we walk. Come, it's best to be dressed properly before things get messy. Kurenai, you too dear."

The voices of the five men were muted, but seemed to be getting louder in a bit of an argument. Finally there was silence, but it went largely unnoticed. Ume was asking the strangest of questions, and Sakura was trying to keep up. Had there been a bit of wet that morning? Pain last night? Despite her composure, Ume seemed to be under not a little stress—she had helped with a few births in Iimori, but not many.

"Sakura-san, Ume-san, Sarutobi-sama would like to know if he should send for a midwife for his niece." Tenzou's voice was clear in that pained manner he sometimes adopted. He usually did it when he was correct and Kakashi wouldn't see reason. Sakura glanced at her mother who looked at Kurenai who nodded in obvious relief.

"That would be welcome, I believe, Tenzou. Thank you," Sakura called, adding, "And if you could make us something to eat, I think we will be here for awhile."

On the other side of the shoji Tenzou's shoulders sank a little in relief—he had been moments from shamefully taking refuge with the women, safely away from their guests. But with this he would get both Sarutobi men out of the house, as well as Sai and Sakura's father. Hopefully. Sai was like a waifish limpet most days, following Tenzou throughout the day and helping with the chores as he could. A waifish limpet cursed with curiosity, he amended. Sai must have lived his entire life in the city before coming to Fujimi—or wherever he had been bound, northward—because he was completely ignorant of just about everything to do with a farm.

Sai didn't know how much water should be maintained in the cistern. He didn't know how to catch a fish—and all of Tenzou's reluctant efforts to teach him had been for nought—and he barely knew how to garden let alone weed. He must have made quite a living as a painter to be so utterly incompetent with the rest of day to day life. It was a wonder that no one had come looking for him.

"Kurenai-san would like for that," he said after returning to the main room. Sarutobi-sama made a happy noise and clapped his nephew on the shoulder bracingly. Tenzou knew Asuma well enough that he didn't have to see his friend twitch to know it happened. He didn't laugh, but it was a struggle.

"Well, Nephew, I think that I need to take you for a drink. And of course young Kakashi's father-in-law, and the guest."

"I…do think that I should stay here, with Tenzou—by this evening Asuma will be a father, he should be with other fathers," Sai tried to defer, and Tenzou glanced over at him. Sai could be positively asocial sometimes. Here was the daimyo himself offering a drink, and the boy wouldn't take it. Tenzou's mouth twitched in the barest of smiles. He was going to have an afternoon free of that boy if he had to pull someone's tooth out. Even for two hours, just two blissful question-free hours.

"Sakura-san mentioned this morning that she would have to pick up several bolts of cloth from town soon, perhaps Sai could go to town for them and return with the midwife once she's found?"

"That is an excellent idea—Sai, you agree of course?" Sarutobi-sama's voice was pleasant, and indicated that Sai had a choice. But everyone in the room knew otherwise.

"Of course, although I do need the money required for such a purchase," Sai said.

"That will be no problem, I'm sure Uncle is more than willing to make the cloth a gift—for me, Uncle," Asuma's voice was hardly sweet, much more baiting than anything else. There was a long pause and Tenzou wondered if perhaps Kurenai's baby would grow up an orphan on account of Asuma's tone.

"Yes, of course, Asuma, if that is what you want. Now, that child won't wait forever," the cheer in Sarutobi-sama's voice gradually returned, until he was nearly jovial as he ushered his new guests out of the house. Tenzou was soon left alone, and the sounds of Sarutobi-sama's retinue faded until there were only the hushed voices of the women in the other room. Kurenai was growling about something Ume or Sakura had said, while the two other women laughed softly.

He put a pot of water over the coals of the fire before going to the butsudan room with a smoking piece of tinder in his hand. The incense wafted up and through the room as he prayed. Years and years ago, Sakumo had told him to treat the Hatake butsudan as his own, and had taught him the death-names of important family ancestors. Sakumo had always considered Tenzou to be nearly his own son, the one he would have had if his wife had lived.

With that sobering thought in mind, Tenzou asked that Kurenai's child came into the world easily for both it and for its mother. It would break Asuma if Kurenai were to not survive childbirth—the woman herself was strong, she would carry on if Asuma somehow died young. But not Asuma, who was brittle after carving out a life for himself that was separate from his clan and his duties there. He also prayed that the baby would be born a girl—a girl who could marry out of the Sarutobi clan, a girl who could escape the life that Asuma himself had been forced into. Tenzou knew too well how it felt to be roughly fit into a mold by one's betters, and he didn't wish the same to be visited upon another son of the Sarutobi family.

He knew that his constant presence was annoying, which was why Tenzou had almost forced him out of the house. He didn't appreciate it, but he could see why the brown haired man had done it. Sarutobi-sama had left his litter (and his litter bearers) at the house—they were unable to all travel in such a manner, and he was trying to reach out to his nephew.

He didn't know much about the relationship between the daimyo and Asuma, but he knew it wasn't a good one. It didn't take a genius to realize something was amiss. Most daimyo made intricate plans involving the control of their heirs, and always wanted those heirs to live in utmost safety. It was why the shogunate had so easily gotten control of every daimyo in the country—what safer place for a lord's wife and children than the new city, the new capital of the Tokugawa? Asuma himself was a secondary heir, the eldest of the nearest branch family if he wasn't much mistaken.

And yet Asuma was living a three hour walk from the main Sarutobi estate. It was highly unnatural.

He walked beside Masaki, the nervously inclined merchant. A man with a level head on his shoulders, yes, but living his life just a little on edge. He didn't much blame the Iimori man—surely having a wife descended from foreigners was stressful enough, he was surprised the merchant wasn't as white-haired as Kakashi.

Masaki left the group once they were in the village to look for the midwife—he'd traveled through Fujimi enough to know who to talk to. The two Sarutobi men, however, went to the drinking house. Their presence startled the owners who scrambled to provided adequate seating and service to the daimyo, nearly tripping over themselves to please him. Asuma's own anxious attitude likely did nothing for them.

This left him free to slip away to the post, where a letter from his master awaited him. He had bribed the postman to not let news of his correspondence slip—Sakura always gave him a little more than what things actually cost. He knew why of course. She was accounting for prejudice, for the shops charging more because they could. She didn't need to know that he quietly threatened one or two people on her behalf—she'd used her magic to heal him, heal her husband's eye, but he wasn't sure she would repay evil with kindness if they understood his drift. He used some of the saved money to bribe silence where it was needed, and the rest he slipped back into her coffers.

He wondered sometimes if she noticed, but asking would be revealing and he was better than that. In the meantime, he had a reply to write before Masaki came back.

Rumors, just rumors everywhere. Kakashi came home late each evening, exhausted. He was a twenty minute walk from the burned ruin of the Sarutobi compound, and thus twenty minutes from anyone who would know anything about where Iruka had gone. They'd told him they'd evacuated on the first day of the fire—but after that there were no good clues. His hosts could offer him little help, they had no business with the powerful and they liked it that way.

He was on his own, for the most part. He posted notices at all of the entrances to the city, and then set himself to scouring the lists of the deceased. There wasn't really anything else he could do short of wandering aimlessly through the burned out ruins of Edo. It was a full week before he got any letters—Sarutobi-sama giving him hints and suggestions at who could have taken Iruka and Anko in, as well as expressing despair at the destruction of the capitol.

Sakura's letter was much more exciting. He had saved it until late in the evening, when his hosts were asleep and he had distracted Naruto with copying letters—the boy had to have something to occupy his time and learning to write was time-consuming enough to do so. The paper of the letter was folded around a dried strand of rice grass, which made him smile in spite of himself. The rice had been planted, properly even. The letter itself was informal and intimate—Sakura wasn't in the habit of writing letters which might be read by a third party.

Kakashi,

The day your letter came, Asuma and Kurenai's baby came too. They are naming her Ayame, after Asuma's mother. I'd like to say that she is sweet, but she is nearly always asleep when I see her. Asuma has been giddy ever since. I hope that you don't wander around with that look on your face this winter, you'll look silly and I'll be too busy to keep you from it.

I'm quite busy at the moment. Our guest seems to have advertised my needlework to the villagers and I have five shichi-go-san commissions to finish. I'm lucky to have Mother here, because one of the children, a little boy, seems to have given me a bit of a cough. I'll be fine within the week in all likelihood.

Imagine, if we save enough this year—with commissions and the increase in koku—we could perhaps make some improvements on the house. Our family has nearly outgrown it now, you know.

We miss you, even though the little one doesn't know it, and hope that you come home soon.

Sakura

When the northeast coast came into view and they finally stopped for what seemed the first time in months, Shisui knelt down on the sand and gave thanks for their deliverance. They had made what normally was an eight day trip in six, and hadn't encountered anyone on the road for whom Nobu's documents weren't enough. But that was not all. For surreptitiously near the cliffs glowed a merry fire—surrounded by men in the brown robes of priests. Out in the mists in the small natural harbor a huge, ungainly creature of a boat floated. The escape that Nobu had wished for them had been granted.

Rin voiced her thanks as well, and before they started towards the priests he held her. She ran her fingers through his hair gently, and Shisui could tell from her hiccups that she was fighting tears. He had one arm wrapped firmly around her waist, while the other supported her back—his fingers just brushing the nape of her neck. They would be free at last, to escape the constant threat of death which had loomed over them for most of their lives. It was a relief.

In the small campsite four priests and a few other men stood up to greet them. One older priest spoke a little Japanese, enough for Shisui to communicate what had happened. The men had conferred for a little together before coming to a decision. They had hoped to find others, but from what Shisui told them…that was neither feasible nor useful. They would take Shisui and Rin with them when they left, which would be soon.

He wanted his wife to be safe, he wanted to freely worship—after that Shisui truly didn't care where they ended up—he placed all of his faith in God to deliver them somewhere they could finally be safe.

Review?