Early upload in celebration of July 4th! I hope you enjoy it!

I (obviously) don't own Naruto, Naruto Shippuden, or any of its affiliated characters.

New P.O.V.: Tiamat

I snuggled further into my blankets, seeking the warmth on the edge of my bed. I reached out my hand in a lazy stretch and jerked back when I touched skin. Sitting up, I surveyed my unfamiliar surroundings before glancing down at the source of my discomfort. There, lying on the bed and giving me a blank stare, was a man. I did the only natural thing to do when one finds a stranger in one's bed - I screamed bloody murder in the hopes that my father would come running and get this miscreant out of our home.

The man sighed and got out of bed, walking to his dresser and removing some clothing from the drawers to get dressed. "Why is it that all of you make such loud noises in the morning? It's too early to deal with this shit."

I crawled back to the furthest part of the bed from him, raising the covers around me to prevent him from seeing anything. "Where am I? I demand to know who you are and where you've taken me!"

He looked back at me and was about to reply when the door opened and… Shylah walked in? Isn't she missing? Where did she come from? Wait, are these our kidnappers? Am I kidnapped?!

Shylah stared at me, eyes widened slightly in shock. "Tiamat?" She crossed the room to me and offered her cloak while her expression returned back to normal. "I didn't actually think you'd… appear. This… changes things a bit, I suppose."

I took her cloak and thanked her gratefully, covering myself in it to avoid the gazes of a few more men who had appeared in the doorway. "Thank you, Shylah. Where are we, exactly?"

"I'll tell you later." Ignoring my frown, Shylah turned to the man I had woken up next to. "Sorry about this, Kakuzu-san. I still haven't figured out exactly why this is happening, much less how to prevent it. I'll just take her off your hands, for now." Shylah grabbed my hand and led me out of the room. The men who had entered after Shylah stepped aside, although some of them seemed to leer at me. Shylah looked back over her shoulder at them as we passed through the doorway. "Excuse us, guys. You have another not-so-welcome guest."

I refused to show how nervous I was in front of the fiends who had captured us, so I straightened my back and held my head up high as I passed through them. I refused to become a submissive captive of these vagabonds, none of whom deserved any sort of obedience or respect for their cowardly deeds.

Shylah led me up stairs and down corridors, through twists and turns that had me confused several times over. We were silent at first, but Shylah broke the silence as she reached a corridor of rooms that looked more occupied than the previous halls she'd been leading me to. "This is where the three of us have been staying."

"By 'the three of us,' I'm assuming you mean Caitlin, Tess, and yourself," I guessed. I followed Shylah into a room that I assumed to be hers, pulling her cloak a bit closer around me. I reached into the pocket of my cover and was surprised to find my iPhone within it. I ignored my finding for the moment, saving my knowledge for a time when I knew we wouldn't be interrupted and my source of communication taken away.

Shylah nodded and opened her drawers before removing a set of clothing. "Could you please shut and lock the door while I get ready?" When I obliged her and remained facing the door, I heard the sounds of cloth signaling that she was getting ready for the day. "Oh, and by the way, we weren't kidnapped by them."

"What?" I asked, halfway to turning around before remembering that Shylah was still getting dressed and returning to face the door. "It's fairly clear that they've kidnapped us." I no longer heard the sounds of cloth moving, so I chanced a look back and was gratified to see Shylah's fully-clothed form. "Have you developed some sort of Stockholm syndrome?"

Shylah paused, suddenly seeming to contemplate the idea of possibly having begun to sympathize with our captors. After a few seconds, she smirked and muttered, "I suppose it's not entirely impossible, knowing what I do."

My eyes widened and I gaped. "Shylah? Please tell me you're joking." Shylah continued to smirk as she moved around me and into the hall. "Shylah, this is serious! You need some sort of counseling if this is the case! Shylah!" I called after her, hurrying into the corridor and following her.

Shylah stopped and faced the corridor, arms opened wide as though attempting to envelop it in a hug. "You can choose any one of these rooms except for mine and the two at the opposite end. You can choose a room right now; I'm going to go wake up Caitlin and get the money she collected yesterday while she was in the village with Tish." Shylah walked casually to the other end of the hall and knocked on a door.

I decided not to eavesdrop on her conversation since it most likely wouldn't be much more than Shylah informing Caitlin of my presence and asking for money. Instead, I turned my attention to choosing a room that I would stay in. I looked through each room individually, ignoring Shylah's return in favor of finding the bedroom most suitable to me. Finally, I decided to simply pick the room across the hall from Shylah's, disappointed that they were all incredibly bland and exactly alike.

When I had finished, I turned back to see Shylah watching me with an amused expression. "Is this room acceptable?"

Frowning, I nodded. "I suppose this room will have to do."

Shylah laughed and led me down the labyrinth of corridors once again, this time exiting through a door that led outside. "As long as you can manage to approve, my Queen."

I scoffed at her ridiculous nickname for me. I stepped outdoors, and immediately recoiled at the sensation of mud squishing between my toes. "Ugh! I'm not wearing any shoes, Shylah. Do you have any spares that I could borrow?"

Shylah raised her eyebrows for a moment before taking it upon herself to raise my hood over my head and covering me with it, tucking my hair into its folds. "No, Tiamat, I don't have any spares that you could wear. Your feet are way too small to fit into my shoes, and Caitlin's feet are nearly the same size as mine. I don't think you'd even want to try Tisha's shoes."

I shook my head, steeled my reserve, and stepped out into the rainy world. "You're right, I don't. But can we make obtaining shoes a priority? I really don't want my feet to be covered in muck and whatever else this place is covered in."

Shylah nodded. "Yeah, we can." We set off, but our silence wasn't long before Shylah let out a short laugh. "I told Caitlin to inform Pein-sama of your arrival. Poor, poor Caitlin. She's terrified of him."

"Who is this… Pein-sama?" I vaguely recognized the Japanese honorific, and even the name sounded slightly familiar, but it brought no images to mind.

Shylah took a deep breath as though steadying herself. "Okay, well, first off, we're in another dimension." She paused, but when I offered no objections, she continued. "In this dimension we're in a country known as the Land of Rain, where we are guests to the leader of this nation, who is known as Pein. He's also the leader of a group of criminal outlaws known as the Akatsuki. They don't really know how we got here, either, hence why I said that they didn't kidnap us."

"If that's the case, then why did you say that it's a possibility that you've developed Stockholm syndrome?"

Shylah shrugged. "I don't know, I just felt like saying it. Anyway, they're all ninja. I kid you not, they're ninja and every living thing in this place has a life source known as chakra that they can use to do these superhuman… things. I'd say chakra is kind of like a more potent, powerful, and harness-able form of chi or something like it." Shylah paused for a while to let me take in the information she'd given me.

I took advantage of the pause in order to take in the appearance of my surroundings. "Is the entirety of this location built in an odd variation of Ancient Japanese buildings?" I stared around at the not-quite contemporary village with buildings that seemed to be preserved in an old Japanese style, industrial technology merely tacked onto the homes and public locales almost as an afterthought.

"Actually, this village is a bit more industrial than the other villages and nations," Shylah replied. "Essentially, though, it's like a slightly modernized Ancient Japanese culture. They have low-tech computers, radios, and TVs, as well as some basic versions of video games."

"Naturally, your focus is on the video games."

"Well, duh! I mean, it's video games! Although they're not really advanced as the video games our home has, which is a huge disappointment." Shylah let out a long-suffering sigh, swinging her arms back and forth. "They also have washing machines, proper cleaning supplies, electricity, and probably a few other things that I'm forgetting."

"We're basically living with a bunch of criminals, we've essentially traveled to another world where the laws of physics don't really apply, and we don't know how to go back. Exactly how is this situation going to get worse? Please tell me, because I have a bad feeling that this isn't going to get better."

Shylah rubbed the back of her head. "Well, our laws of physics still technically apply to us, so no super-awesome chakra-related abilities. We also technically don't know how we got here, which makes getting home even more difficult than it would be." I threw my hands up into the air in exasperation, but apparently Shylah wasn't done. "Oh, and if we anger the leader of the Akatsuki, or any of his less stable subordinates, we could all meet bloody and possibly painful ends."

"Great," I grumbled, sarcasm dripping from my voice. "Is there any possible upside to this predicament we have found ourselves in? I'm going to take a wild guess and say, no."

"There's this technique using chakra that's called 'genjutsu' that manipulates the senses. If I'm correct in my theories, not having chakra means that it won't affect us. There's also the opportunity to learn about an entirely different culture and eat different foods than what we're used to, although I think it's almost entirely a mimicry of Japanese cultures and traditions. Maybe not a mimicry, per se, but definitely closely intertwined with it."

I raised an eyebrow. "I see…" I pulled out my iPhone and started fiddling with it, hoping for a signal. "My phone doesn't seem to be working, either."

Shylah raised her eyebrows at me. "What is it with you people and sleeping with your phones? When Caitlin appeared, she'd apparently been sleeping with her phone, my phone, and her charger."

"That's kind of… strange. Why would she be sleeping with your phone and her charger?"

Shylah shrugged. "I guess the charger appeared because it was hooked to her phone, and she had my phone with her because she thought I'd try calling it for some reason. Kind of pointless since I don't even have my number memorized, but I guess it helped her sleep at night. She was close to hysterical that night when she found out that her phone didn't get any signal and she couldn't call her grandparents to tell them not to worry."

I winced, recalling the close relationship Caitlin had with her grandparents and younger brothers. We'd been in contact with them almost hourly for the past two days, and their worry for their granddaughter had bordered on hysteria. "My parents are probably so worried about me."

Shylah nodded slowly, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "How was Mischa the last time you saw her?"

I was about to reply truthfully, but stopped halfway through forming the first word. It wouldn't do to cause Shylah needless worry about her sister's emotional state, and I wasn't entirely sure she'd really be able to handle the thought of her little sister spiraling into depression because of her - or at least, her absence. Yet, as much as I wanted to spare Shylah emotional pain, I knew Shylah knew her sister well enough to guess her emotional state accurately without my having to say anything either way. I decided to go with a half-truth. "She's pretty torn up about it, but I wouldn't be too worried. She has Reia there to keep her grounded, and Tracey can probably come up with ways to make her laugh."

"I'd be more comforted if Tracey weren't there, considering all the arguments they tend to get into." Shylah gave me a look that made it seem like she thought I was the one to be pitied. "But thanks, I appreciate your attempt to keep me from worrying." I was beginning to feel like she was pitying my speaking skills…

I decided to change the topic a bit to take Shylah's mind off my pitiful attempts to allay her worries. "How are Tisha and Caitlin taking this? I imagine their separation from the people back home is doing a number on them."

Shylah furrowed her brows in thought, going into the mode she has where she analyzes someone's every action and traces it back to a certain mentality. "Caitlin's worried out of her mind. She's never been out of contact with her family for more than a day at a time, and this is the third day she won't be talking to any of them. Family means everything to her, and-" Shylah stopped short before trailing off, giving me a look that I understood the meaning of all too well. Caitlin had separation anxiety, a deep-seated need to have contact with those she loved.

Shylah took a breath before continuing. "Tisha is doing a bit better than Caitlin. She sometimes complains about her boyfriend being lonely without her or something like that, but she doesn't really seem to mind all that much. Actually, she almost seems to like the freedom that comes with being here, in a sense. She'll miss her career soon enough; just yesterday afternoon she made Caitlin buy her drawing supplies so that she could fill out the dimensions for a building based on this style of architecture."

I nodded and made a small noise in response. "I know how Tisha and Caitlin are holding up. Now, how are you holding up?"

Shylah shrugged noncommittally, no expression upon her visage. "I didn't have the kind of commitments they have, so I'm not feeling too eager to get back or anything. I am getting kind of irritated that I don't have any access to my video games or the internet. Missing school isn't an issue, since summer break started a few days before I got here. I'm actually a bit more worried about getting attached to living here than anything else, y'know?"

I stared at her. After a few seconds, she noticed me staring. "What?" I didn't reply, and simply continued to stare at her. "What~?"

"I seriously think you could have Stockholm syndrome. Even if you don't, you most definitely have a susceptibility to it."

"Whatever," Shylah muttered, rolling her eyes. "I just like it here. You know I enjoy the rain, and it rains almost constantly. This place seems more exciting, anyway."

"Exciting? I think you mean dangerous. From the way you described it, we're living with criminals who could kill us with a flick of their fingers using some sort of weird energy-thing. We need to find some sort of way to distance ourselves from them because associating with vagabonds is one sure way to get into all sorts of trouble." I breathed a sigh of relief as we entered the far dryer atmosphere of what appeared to be a mall.

Shylah hesitated, the beginnings of a grimace pulling the corners of her mouth down. "I don't… I don't know. If they haven't hurt us so far, it's possible that we could be safer staying with them than trying to go it alone. Y'know, like we're smaller animals who form a symbiotic relationship with larger and more dangerous animals who will protect us and keep predators away."

I gave her a deadpan stare. "Do you really think this situation applies to the animal hierarchy? Never mind, don't answer that."

Shylah smirked at me, a mischievous light turning on in her eyes. "Tiamat, no matter what, there is always an analogy or comparison for any situation. Now, how about we get you some clothes or something like that?"

I nodded in affirmation and followed Shylah around the mall. At first, she allowed me to simply window shop, but she quickly grew impatient with how long I was taking and simply led me into a store. While we were in there, I managed to find a pair of shoes that wasn't too bland, although Shylah refused to buy me anything that looked too expensive. She also made me buy a spare pair of shoes that was even more functional than the first pair I had picked out.

After I put on my new shoes, Shylah led me to a small store that sold clothes, where I was to buy my outfits. I have to say, I was rather disappointed in their selection, but she forced me to choose from them nonetheless. When I had made my selections, I waited a fair distance away as Shylah then began to argue with the cashier over the costs of the clothes. After a while, they managed to come to some sort of agreement, and Shylah handed over the currency that the purchases required.

I shook my head as Shylah walked over to me, a satisfied smirk on her face. "You have absolutely no shame, do you?"

Shylah's smirk widened. "What do you mean?"

"Arguing with the saleswoman like that. What do you honestly think you're doing? She's trying to earn a living, and you're trying to cheat her out of every dime and cent." I exited the shop with Shylah following after me as she carried the bags.

"I wasn't arguing, I was debating. We got a pretty good deal." When I only continued to frown at her, she scoffed and rolled her eyes. "It's not like you're any different. You would've done the same thing, only in a more forceful way."

I raised an eyebrow and straightened my back in order to reach the extent of my height. "I don't haggle over necessities, Shylah. I simply negotiate a fair deal for all parties involved rather than attempting to pinch as many pennies as I can in the hopes of saving a dime or two." I knew I was actually the same way, only a bit more persistent, but that wasn't going to stop me from giving her a hard time for embarrassing me in the store.

Shylah's smirk switched to a grin and she rolled her eyes again, amused. "Please. You enter a debate like a war king enters battle - take no prisoners, leave no survivors. I think you're an even more hard-core negotiator than I am." Shylah eyed me, her grin growing devious. "You wanna know what I think? You're just embarrassed because I started haggling the price without consulting you and I held up the line. Did you see how many people were staring at us as we left?"

I refused to reply, but my flaming cheeks were the only answer Shylah needed. "How do you know all of us so well, and yet few of us know much about you?"

"Because you all talk your jaws off and don't give me a word in edgewise. It's only in these kinds of situations, when I'm talking to someone one-on-one, when I have the opportunity to give you my opinions and feelings." Shylah's grin turned into a frown, and she began looking into some of the shop windows. "Besides," she muttered under her breath, "it's not like there's any point to growing close to someone, anyway."

I frowned, but didn't press her to elaborate. Shylah was a secretive person, as much as she acted like she was just dying to communicate with someone on an emotional level. She wouldn't appreciate my acknowledging that I'd heard her, nor would she explain herself no matter how persistent I was. She may be incredibly good at reading people, but I wasn't too far behind.

We continued walking through the mall for a time, not concerned with the time. Shylah mentioned that she had to get back by lunch time, but it was only around ten in the morning, which meant that we had plenty of time to spare. Shylah inspected a few cookbooks in one shop, unmindful of the middle-aged woman at the counter giving us intrigued looks. I ignored her for the time being, as she would most likely speak to us if it was important.

"Is the lady at the counter checking us out or something?" Shylah muttered to me. She sent me a glance before twitching her left foot in the direction of the woman in question. I almost missed the foot twitch, but after knowing Shylah for a few years you learned to read her body language rather than her misleading tone or minimalistic facial expressions.

"I don't really know. Maybe she's just wondering why two young women such as ourselves would be looking through a cookbook when we could just as easily be about to meet our mothers for lunch."

Shylah chuckled a little, returning her gaze to the cookbook. "You might look like you're the age when you'd be going home to mother, but I've been mistaken for an adult since I was thirteen."

"Was that a reference to my height?" Short jokes were irritating, and something that I'd had to endure for the majority of my life; however, I prided myself on not being as affected by them as some people could get.

"I suppose it could be a height thing, since I'm five foot six. It's also a shoulder width thing, since my shoulders have been this wide since junior high, whereas yours are far more narrow and a bit more rounded. You're also a bit thinner than I am."

"I don't really think our physiques play much of a role in how much younger I look than you, considering that I'm filled out enough not to be mistaken for a child. And in case you hadn't noticed, most women here are either shorter than you or exactly your height."

Shylah nodded before smirking. "Ah, it feels good to feel tall. I almost feel physically superior to these people." She shut the cookbook she'd been reading - which I noticed was written entirely in Japanese - before approaching the counter. "Excuse me, I'd like to buy this book, please."

The cashier nodded and smiled at us as Shylah began to count out the amount of money we needed for the book. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but you two are new here, aren't you?" When we nodded, she continued. "I noticed you a few days ago shopping with that orange-masked man," she mentioned, speaking to Shylah. "Then I saw you with a girl the day after, and her with another girl the day after that. It's nice to see young people taking an interest in moving to our village - maybe you'll be able to help our recovering economy."

Shylah smiled kindly, and I followed suit. "Thanks, I actually really like it here. My friends and I are arriving on different days, so we'll probably be coming here for the rest of the week. It's nice of you to take an interest in us."

The woman smiled and waved the thanks off. "No need to thank me, I'm just an old busybody sticking her nose into other people's business." When Shylah handed over the money, she smiled and bagged the cookbook for us before sliding it across the counter, a conspiratorial look on her face. "You and that masked man made quite a cute couple. I'm sure he'll love any recipe you cook him from this book."

Shylah nodded and abruptly walked out of the shop, far faster than I had thought she would have. I shared a look with the cashier woman. "Don't worry, she's just a bit shy. You know how newlyweds can be."

Returning the cashier's 'have a nice day,' I sped out of the shop and raced over to where Shylah was waiting impatiently by a bench. When I approached, she began walking again. "People should really know when to mind their own business. I hate nosy people."

I grinned at her. "She was probably just fishing for more gossip." We walked in silence for a while before I remembered what the cashier had said. "So who's this masked man? Anything I should know about? Do I hear wedding bells playing in the distance?"

Shylah just turned her head to me, unamused but also unembarrassed. "Trust me, it's nothing like that. If you meet him today, you'll see exactly what I'm talking about." Shylah sighed and walked into a small accessory shop. "I need to find something to hold back my hair, 'cause this is seriously starting to irritate me."

"I think keeping your hair down is a nice change."

"It's annoying." Shylah grabbed a few hair ties before purchasing them and exiting the store quickly. "This world doesn't even have proper ponytail holders," she grumbled as she arranged her hair in a high ponytail.

"I have to say, I commend you on your ability to tie your hair while holding all those shopping bags." Shylah gave me an exasperated glance, but continued to carry the bags as we walked towards the exit. I have such dutiful servants.

I mean friends. Yeah.

"Shylah, if you hate having to deal with long hair, why not cut it?"

"I didn't say I hated dealing with it." At my persistent stare, she rolled her eyes. "Imagine Caitlin's hair, except blonde and even frizzier. That's how my hair would look, which is even more unmanageable than it is now."

"Okay, I believe you." I ran a hand through my hair before stopping and glancing down to my cloak, which hid my nightclothes. "Hey, Shylah. I think I know how we can get enough money to become independent of the Akatsuki in this world."

Shylah glanced at me before looking ahead again and nudging the mall doors open with her foot. She waited for me to pass through before shoving the doors open further and hurrying through, herself. "I noticed when I first saw you. After people stop waking up in the Akatsuki hideout, we can put your plan into action, but for now we should simply wait."

I frowned. "That will take far too much time."

"Patience is a virtue."

"Yes, as I recall it's a virtue you don't have. Why the sudden about-face?"

Shylah was silent for a while, weaving in and out of crowds and parting the masses just long enough for me to sneak through after her. While she lacked the commanding presence required to get them to part for her, she had learned to spot openings in crowds and knew how to slip through them - it was, at times, tedious, but it got the job done. "I can be patient when I want to be. I also want to make sure no one else we know is going to randomly appear here, and I also want to make sure no one's appearing in any other nations."

"How many other nations are there?"

Shylah sighed and lifted her right arm before stopping when she remembered that it was carrying multiple bags. "Too many. Five powerful nations, numerous smaller nations of varying power. It's a large world, with even more unexplored territory to the west."

"How are we going to know if anyone appears in any of those nations?"

"Word spreads easier than you would think, Tiamat." We walked in silence before Shylah laughed derisively. "Wouldn't it be funny if the 'good guys' killed us off while the 'bad guys' let us live? It would stink to be one of the people who ends up with the 'good guys', wouldn't it?"

I raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think the… 'good guys' would have people appearing with them? For that matter, why would they kill innocent people off if they're the 'good guys'?"

"'Good' and 'bad' tend to be a matter of perspective." I rolled my eyes at the familiar phrase, but wasn't going to let her drop the question at that. Thankfully, I didn't need to press the issue. "I was just thinking up a hypothetical situation in which people weren't just appearing with the Akatsuki. These nations I'm referring to all have ninja villages, which is where they'd end up, and I was thinking up a hypothetical situation in which someone said the wrong thing and got them all killed because they were labeled a possible threat."

My heart stuttered in my chest as I realized the same situation could essentially be applied to us. "…Shylah?"

"Hm?"

"Next time you think up one of these kinds of scenarios, please keep it to yourself. I'd rather not think about the possibility of dying so easily in this place."

Shylah sent a cynical grin back at me as we neared the entrance to the hideout. "Wouldn't you rather I let you know the exact kind of situation we're in? It's not like the danger is going to go away simply because you're choosing to ignore it. C'mon, Tiamat, you're encouraging Helsinki syndrome with that attitude."

"What is Helsinki syndrome?"

"Exactly what you're choosing to do, except on a larger scale." Shylah stopped in front of the main door of the Akatsuki base, eyeing its doorknob distastefully. I sighed in a long-suffering manner before obliging her and opening the door long enough for her to pass through before following after. "Thanks."

I nodded as I followed her through the corridors. "You're welcome. Are we going to my room?"

Shylah nodded as she hustled up some stairs. "I figured you'd want to change into some proper clothing."

After a few more twists, turns, and sets of stairs, we had arrived successfully in front of the door to my room. I wasn't sure how I could register it as the door to my room since they all looked the same, but I did nonetheless. Shylah placed my bags on my bed before turning and leaving, mentioning something about making lunch. I wasn't sure I'd heard her right, though, because Shylah does not cook. I had heard rumors that bad things happened when Shylah cooked.

I shook off daydreams about what kinds of horrors Shylah's cooking could result in, deciding it was best not to think about, before putting my things away and hiding my night clothes in a safe place no one would look in - my underwear drawer. I then changed into some proper clothes and adjusted Shylah's cloak so that it was in a more comfortable position, no longer concerned with covering any skin thanks to the outfit I was wearing.

I sat on my bed, a contemplative look upon my features. I've somehow been transported to another world. A far more dangerous world in which there are ninjas with superpowers, where I could possibly die if I make the wrong move towards these criminals known as the Akatsuki. I groaned aloud and covered my face with my hands as realization hit me. "My fate is tied to Tisha's ability to behave."

Feeling unnerved, I exited my room and made my way to where I knew the kitchen was. I only knew it would be the kitchen because I could smell food being cooked, but either way I ended up in the kitchen in time to see the strangest sight I'd ever witnessed. Shylah was cooking. Shylah was cooking, her cookbook opened to a page depicting an oriental seafood dish. Would you like to know the most surprising part? The food wasn't burning.

"I didn't know you cooked, Shylah."

"I don't," Shylah grumbled, casting a sour glare back at me. "There's a reason I spread the rumors that I'm a terrible cook. I absolutely hate cooking."

"Oh." Well, it seems I was wrong. "Would you like some assistance?"

Shylah nodded and pointed to the cookbook page, her finger landing on the portion of instructions relating to the seafood. "Tiamat, no one lends their 'assistance' anymore. You're just helping me cook lunch, not assisting me in the changing of a wagon wheel."

"I will speak the way I was raised to speak, thank you very much. I won't chastise you on your perverted nature if you don't correct my vocabulary." At my mention of Shylah's sense of humor, she raised her eyebrows at me, but didn't dignify my insinuations with an answer.

Instead, we worked together to cook the food. I prepared the fish while Shylah chopped the vegetables and cooked the rice. We shared a nice, companionable silence, punctuated on occasion when one of us would finish a step and ask the other if they had anything left to do.

Silence's reign was brought down shortly at the arrival of a shirtless man with slicked back silver hair and magenta eyes. "Oi, bitch! When's the food gonna be done?"

Shylah rolled her eyes while I scoffed at his rudeness. "Chill out, Hidan. The food's almost done. If you're really so impatient, you can wait at the dining area for us to set the table. Better yet, you can set the table so that we don't have to waste time doing that just so you can eat."

Hidan opened his mouth to reply when Tisha entered the kitchen, Caitlin following after her. "Yo, bitch! When's the food gonna be done?"

This time Shylah and I both shared a glance. After a moment of silence, Shylah replied, "I hope you know Hidan said those exact words a few seconds ago."

Tisha scoffed. "I don't give a shit. I just wanna know when I'm gonna get some fucking food."

"Set the table and I'll let you eat."

"Fuck that!" Hidan and Tisha both replied in unison. They glared halfheartedly at each other, more concerned with getting food than with their similar speech patterns. Meanwhile, the other members had all made their way to the kitchen, either because of the ruckus or the smell of finished food.

Shylah gave both Hidan and Tisha a look that I recognized from her more temperamental moments before grabbing a plate and dishing food onto it. Hidan and Tisha watched hungrily as the food was placed with an odd air of gravity in an almost artistic formation. Shylah held the plate aloft, and just as Hidan and Tisha made a grab for it, the plate was maneuvered into my hands. "Tiamat helped me cook, so she gets the first plate."

I waited in the doorway to the dining area as she repeated the process, handing the plates to various others. "Konan-san is a lady, so she gets the second dish. Pein-sama is Pein-sama, so he gets the third. Caitlin can have the next one because she's also a lady. Kakuzu-san waited patiently, Kisame-san complimented my cooking yesterday, Itachi-san didn't bother me, Tobi-san also complimented my cooking, Deidara-san didn't bother me, either, Zetsu-san already got his food without bothering to make me get it for him. Now, Tisha, Hidan, here are your plates. Next time you're hungry and you want food before everyone else, either get it yourself or help me. I have no obligation to act like mother to either of you." Shylah then grabbed a plate of food for herself and turned to the table, head held high and chin tilted slightly up.

I smirked to myself as I followed her out and sat beside her at the table, where several of the Akatsuki members had managed to get into a debate, already. Shylah was always more entertaining when she was irritable, and she was usually more irritable when she was worried about Mischa.

It was late afternoon, and Shylah, Caitlin, Tisha, and myself were relaxing in the main living area of the Akatsuki's base. The Akatsuki members were all training outside because, according to Shylah, Pein-sama ordered them to keep up their training by practicing for two hours in the morning and two hours in the afternoon. Our lunch and dinner had both been rather eventful, with many arguments in between bites of food. The time between dinner and supper was punctuated by fights between various members, in which the four of us would hang off to the side in the hopes of not becoming a bystander casualty of this group's volatile dynamic.

Shylah was sitting in a large chair, reading a Japanese book about some sort of ninja techniques. I don't know where she got it, considering that she'd told me ninjas tended to jealously guard their techniques from outsiders, but I tried not to think about it. Tisha was stretched out on one of the couches, fiddling with her phone as she held it aloft above her head. I sat on another couch next to Caitlin, observing everyone, while Caitlin continuously sighed and shifted around, obviously bored.

"I'm so bored!" Caitlin exclaimed. She puffed out her cheeks and took out her phone, flipping through various apps hurriedly. "It's way too quiet here."

Shylah merely turned the page of her book, ignoring her, while Tisha gave her a small glare. "I know, Caitlin, it's fucking boring around here. No wonder these guys all became ninjas - there's nothing to do around here except freaking train."

I sighed. "There are probably many things we could be doing in this place, but we can't because the only one who can read Japanese out of all of us is Shylah. I can understand Japanese as well as speak it, but that's not really the problem we're facing. We need to learn to read and write Japanese as quickly as possible if we're to manage some semblance of a normal life in this world."

Caitlin fell back so that she was stretched out across the couch we were sitting on, her head coming to rest in my lap. "I don't want to learn how to live here, I wanna go home! Shylah, when are we gonna go home?"

Shylah turned another page, glancing up at us as she did so. "I don't know, Caitlin. We can't go home if we don't know how to go home, and we probably won't know how to get home if we can't figure out how we got here."

Caitlin whined before turning her body towards the back of the couch, hiding her face in my stomach. The close physical contact was unnerving, so I looked down and opened my mouth to tell her to get off. I stopped, however, when I noticed her eyes were beginning to fill with tears. I sighed and leaned my head back against the couch, running my hand through Caitlin's short, frizzy hair.

For not the first time that day, I thought about how worried my parents must be. My grandmother was supposed to have arrived at our home for the summer today, and we'd been in the process of making plans to travel overseas. I sighed again, the first wave of homesickness hitting me that day. Whenever we finally go home, I hope it's soon.

I have a question I've been meaning to ask for the past few chapters: Do you find the bleeped-out expletives annoying? I wanted to get your opinions on the matter because I've been writing stories with semi-mature themes (swearing, sexuality, violence) since I was little (I think before age ten), which might seem weird to some people, but was the natural course of events for me. Anyways, since I wasn't allowed to swear (and didn't want my mom to come across a document filled with curse words) I took to bleeping them out, and that writing style has carried over to my more current works. I find that it breaks any immersion I may have, so I'd appreciate you telling me if you have a preference. It doesn't matter much to me either way, I was just curious.

So Tiamat. Yep, she's actually one of my favorite OC's I've ever made because her back-story is pretty dramatic and entertaining to think about. It's not the back-story for this version of Tiamat, since that would require the presence of demons and the King of the Underworld. Yeah... Her personality actually ended up coming out a bit more rational than I'd originally intended, but that shall all be remedied in due time...

*cue evil laughter*

Anyways! I uploaded this early because I was done with it and didn't want to wait 24 hours to upload it, but also because this is my new way of celebrating things I love - by doing things I enjoy. If you celebrate Independence Day, I hope you'll have a great time celebrating in a way that would excite Deidara (if you know what I mean). If you don't celebrate American Independence Day, have a fun July 4th in the name of... Ramen King! Or the Viking King of Sweden, I dunno.

Edit: I was distracted by fireworks, so this is actually uploaded REALLY early on Saturday morning. Like, midnight early.