"If I could change the way that you see yourself,

You wouldn't wonder why you hear,

'They don't deserve you'"

-everything I wanted, Billie Eilish

The sun was higher in the sky than when we left. Not in the middle, but not at the bottom either.

My shirt clung to my skin. I pulled off my cloak as I sat in front of the window and draped it over my shoulders. I could stare at the sun all day.

Haruto looked between me and Yahiko in disbelief. "You've done it? Already?"

Yahiko stopped in the entryway, grinning, hands laced behind his head. "I told you not to fall for my baby face."

Haruto stared at him. He didn't blink.

Yahiko plopped down on a couch and stretched his arms above his head. "Man, I'm exhausted," he said. "I almost think I prefer the reaction we get back home."

Kuu leapt from the floor to the back of the couch, then dropped down in front of Hidan. He rolled over, wiggling his body back and forth. The fur in his middle was white and thin, and I could see traces of pink skin underneath.

"What the hell do you want?" Hidan murmured. He crouched and scratched Kuu's stomach.

Kuu made a happy chittering noise at him.

I wondered if he ate chakra like Namekuji, or if he lived on the paper and ink from the stuff he delivered.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Hidan asked.

He stared at me, eyes narrowed to slits, and I politely averted my eyes.

"You took care of the genjutsu user?" Haruto asked. He stood in the same spot as before.

Hanako was curled up in a ball on the stairs, asleep.

Yahiko stretched out on the couch and used a rolled-up blanket as a pillow. "Abhuraya never hired anyone," he answered. "It was Ren the whole time."

"Ren?" Haruto repeated. He frowned. "It couldn't have been. Only a shinobi could've kept the... 'illusion' up for as long as he did. Ren never would've let us get as close to the palace as we did if he was a shinobi."

"He's a civilian," Yahiko agreed.

Haruto's frown deepened.

"Ren loves Abhuraya," I cut in, turning to face him. "That's how he did it. He ran out of chakra, but he didn't care 'cause he wanted to keep the person he cared about the most safe. The genjutsu would've come down anyway, 'cause Ren would've died."

Haruto looked at me for a moment, then closed the door. "Where is he now?"

"At the palace," Yahiko answered. "Konan stayed behind so the people here would give him a chance. She wants him to be Chief."

Haruto went still. "After all they did—" he broke off with a sigh and sat heavily on the couch across from Yahiko. "Suisai might be ours again, but it'll never go back to the way it was before this. Abhuraya turned neighbors into enemies, turned people desperate and selfish, made parents choose which child should be fed and which should go hungry to save a little food." He shook his head. "If Abhuraya and Ren aren't killed, they'll be run out of town."

"You make a good point. That's why I want you to be Ren's advisor."

Haruto's eyes snapped up to his.

Yahiko looked at the ceiling. "What do you think would happen if someone with enough power to put Abhuraya here and with influence over Konohagakure found out that foreign shinobi were brought here to force Abhuraya to step down, or the people here killed him?"

Haruto's eyes went wide.

"We didn't come here to make Suisai and Konohagakure enemies," he continued. "I didn't know that there was a daimyo until you talked about him. And I don't think Hanako really knew what she was doing when she contacted Amegakure for help. But what we did and didn't know doesn't change how this looks."

"Ren is the only one who can be Chief. The daimyo won't look too closely into what happened with him in charge. Everyone here has to believe in him because he's the only one who can keep the peace," Yahiko said.

Haruto scrubbed a hand down his face. "This is a mess."

Hidan sat back against the couch, Kuu in his lap.

I looked away before he caught me peeking, wiping a smile away with the back of my hand.

"Not as big of one as you think," Yahiko said. "If you become Ren's advisor, everyone will take him more seriously."

Haruto leaned back. "What makes you think I have that much influence?"

"Because of what you said when you told us about Abhuraya," Yahiko answered. "You kept saying 'we' and 'us' when you talked about trying to overthrow him, but you said you gave up. So why did everyone else give up too?"

Haruto stared at him.

Yahiko laughed. "You know, my sensei back home gives me that same look."

"You should let Ren try," I said firmly, pushing myself up. "You won't know if he's a good or bad leader if he never tries."

Haruto slowly shook his head. He stood. "When I'm able to see my wife again—that's when I'll make a decision." He turned away and walked upstairs.

絞り

The door at the top of the staircase was open.

It smelled like blood and rot and death.

It was an awful, familiar smell.

Haruto stood at the bottom, an arm covering his mouth and nose. Hanako ducked away from her father, a hand over her mouth, and I heard quick footsteps and the sound of her retching.

Hidan was asleep behind the couch. Even if he weren't, I didn't think the smell would make him sick. Maybe sad.

Wax spilled out of the bowl on the nightstand and was in dried clumps down the side. A freshly lit candle sat on the floor next to the bed, and another was half-melted next to a thick bag stained red and filled with lumpy shapes.

It was the source of the rotting smell.

Naga was curled up on the floor by the back wall. His hands and wrists were a deep, flaking red. A scarlet stain was on one side of his shirt, and there was blood on his neck and face. He didn't move when Yahiko knelt in front of him.

"I never want to do that again," he murmured, almost too quiet for me to hear.

Yahiko reached forward and pulled Naga's arm around his shoulder, forcing him to sit up. "Let's get you out of here."

"Let me sleep," Naga protested.

"What kind of a best friend would I be if I left you in a room that smells worse than Konan on a good day?" He shot Naga a smile as he dragged him up.

"A good one," Naga groaned.

"You're exhausted right now, so I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

I stepped closer to the bed, my feet sticking to the floor.

Yahiko carried Naga to the door, an arm tight around his side.

The bed sheets were so red they were almost black.

Thick white bandages were wrapped around the woman's chest and stomach. Older ones and torn strips of sheet circled parts of her arms and legs.

I could hear the rattle of air in her lungs as she inhaled. Her chest rose and fell in fitful spurts.

Her skin was pale, her body smaller than I remembered, but she looked alive.

I smiled. It took three days.

"Where's Namekuji?" I asked.

He would've been with Naga if he was here, but I still wanted to ask, just in case.

Yahiko paused, but Naga was limp, sagging in his hold. "Can't say I'm surprised this took too much chakra to keep him here," Yahiko eventually said.

I hummed, watching the woman for another second before I followed them out.

Haruto was halfway up, hope and fear warring for dominance in his eyes. "Is she—" he couldn't finish. "How is she?"

"Well, I'm no medic-nin," Yahiko began. "But Nagato wouldn't have stopped until he was sure she could survive without him. She won't die."

Haruto's inhale was shaky. He dropped his hand, bowed low, and rushed up the stairs past us.

On the bottom floor, blue-white light stretched across the floor in front of the window. The moon was a full circle.

Yahiko put Naga down on a couch and I pushed his feet up. "No offense to Nagato," he began, rubbing his shoulder. "But I never want to carry dead weight down a staircase again. I think I pulled a muscle."

"He isn't that heavy," I protested on his behalf.

"This coming from the one who watched," he said, shaking his head. "Never even ask if I needed help. I almost tripped. Twice."

I pointed to the other couch and ignored him. "You should put Hidan there."

Yahiko peered down at Hidan, splayed out on the floor. "But he looks so comfortable."

I lowered my hand. "Then you can listen to him complain all day tomorrow about being sore."

Yahiko considered this. He bent and picked Hidan up without another word.

Hidan grumbled, twisting in his grip and swatting at Yahiko's face, but never opened his eyes.

Hanako sat in the corner opposite of the staircase, legs pulled up to her chin. She'd taken off her shirt and tied it around the lower half of her face, leaving her only in an undershirt and cloth pants that were too big for her.

I could see wet lines down her cheeks when I got close. She smelled vaguely like vomit, but I didn't see it on her clothes. Kuu rubbed his head against her leg.

"Why are you crying?" I asked.

Hanako shuddered as she looked up. "How can you stand it?" she asked back, muffled. "I know you're a shinobi but this... it smells so bad. And it's everywhere."

I inhaled, but the only smell that bothered me was the vomit. I wrinkled my nose.

Hanako searched my face. "Nagato was in that room for three days. I can't imagine how horrible it must've been." Her voice shook.

I sat in front of her. "That smell doesn't bother me, and it wouldn't bother him either. Intestines smell worse," I said. "I don't like the smell of throw up."

Hanako averted her gaze, and I realized she'd been looking for something to connect to, some small understanding of how she felt. But I couldn't even give her that.

I wanted to laugh.

Dead bodies smell really bad, Hanako. Didn't you know?

Hanako was brave and she was smart. It was because of her that we were here, after all. But she didn't really understand shinobi. If she did, there never would've been a scroll for Kota to steal.

Hanako tucked her head between her knees. "She's dead, isn't she?" she asked quietly.

"Nope."

She looked up, surprised. "But—" she looked at the staircase. "The smell—"

"Dead bodies don't smell like that," I said. "Not if she just died, anyway."

Hanako shuddered again. She wouldn't meet my eyes and I did laugh that time, a soft little sound that made her swallow hard.

Didn't you know that bodies left out for a few days smell the worst, Hanako?

We completed our mission and did what she wanted, but I knew we'd never be friends.

It made me a little sad.

Hanako stood quickly, scooping Kuu up. "I'm going to go see her then," she told me. She walked off before I could respond, cleaning her face with her shirt. I twisted around, watching her take the stairs two at a time.

"You'll never get along with civilians this way," Yahiko drawled. He stood closer, looking out the window, hands in his pockets.

"Maybe I don't want to," I chirped.

He glanced down. "Even real-life wolves know how to play nice with other animals when they want to."

"I tried," I said with a shrug. "I like Hanako. But we could only be friends if I pretend to be someone I'm not. I was nice at first, but it made her look at me weird anyway."

"You'd make a really bad diplomat," he mused.

"What's a diplomat?"

Yahiko didn't answer right away. "Me, I guess."

"Someone who wants peace?"

"Wouldn't that be an ideal world?" he drawled.

"Someone who wants to be a god?"

I wondered if Hanako's version of a god was the same kind he wanted to be.

He smiled at that. "The short answer is that a diplomat is someone who can talk enemies into becoming allies or talk people into giving them what they want."

"But I don't want anything," I said.

"Everyone wants something."

"I want what you want."

"You sure about that?" he asked. He crouched, elbows on his knees. "What if I said I hated apples and wanted all apple trees burned to the ground?"

I frowned. "You don't."

He grinned. "I do. I woke up an apple-hater today. I can't help it."

I turned away from him. "Maybe not everything you want," I conceded.

His grin widened and he sat back, looking back at the window. "If we got rid of all the clouds back home but kept the rain, would the moon still look like this, you think?"

"I thought you wanted to stop the rain."

He laughed a little. "I do. I will. But maybe I miss it a little too."

ボケ 味

I heard her before I saw her. The heavy crunch of sandals on gravel, the tiny creaks of a basket swinging back and forth, her slightly uneven breathing.

I brushed my fingers over the word 'traitor', painted in big, blocky letters on a door a few houses down from Haruto's. Someone tried to scrub it off, but the word was only faded at the corners, the wood underneath soft and wet.

She stopped next to me. "Are you Oka?" she asked, reserved and polite.

I looked back. Her hair was cut short by hand, the ends ragged and loose. A basket made of straw hung off her arm and I saw parts of a dark blanket poking out through the holes.

"I am," I confirmed.

She knelt, carefully lowered the basket, and bowed. "We all owe you a great debt. My family especially," she said. "I apologize deeply for all the trouble my husband has caused you. Please forgive us."

I lowered my hand, brushing the ink off on my pants. "Your husband?"

She lowered herself further.

Was my forgiveness that important?

"He was at the palace when you captured Abhuraya. He—he used ninjutsu against you," she answered, and I could hear a twinge of nervousness. "Without your intervention, many would have been hurt. He was careless."

The man with fire chakra.

I hummed. "Why are you apologizing?"

Her forehead nearly touched the dirt. "My husband was detained. Along with our former Chief. I don't know where they were taken, but I was told that they won't be allowed to leave until everyone has a say in what should happen to them. That's why I came to you myself."

"You don't sound sorry that he was taken away."

Her fingers curled. "I never expected him to go that far," she quietly admitted. "I reaped the benefits of his arrangement with our former Chief and I... I never tried to stop him. I'll have to live with that shame for the rest of my life, but I never wanted him to attack our people. It shames me even more to think of what could've happened if you didn't stop his attack."

I stared at her.

She'd turned her back on everyone here, just like him. Except she didn't have Ren's excuse of not knowing what it was like, or a reason to do what she did.

She disgusted me.

"I don't care that you're sorry," I said, fists clenching. "Be better."

She tensed but didn't lift her head. "I'm doing all I can," she whispered.

"No, you're not," I shot back. "I don't live here. Why do you care about me forgiving you?"

"It's you who he targeted, and you who stopped him before he could harm anyone else," she protested.

I frowned. "I still don't forgive you."

She slowly pushed herself up. "I understand," she murmured. She pulled open the lid of the basket and a warm smell wafted out. "I hope you'll accept this gift, regardless." She reached in and held out an uneven, puffy circle the size of her palm.

I eyed it. It smelled faintly sweet. "What is it?"

She looked briefly surprised. "We call it bread," she answered. "I baked them fresh earlier today from the flour I had left. Think of it as a 'thank you'."

I held out my hands and she placed the 'bread' in them. It was rough-feeling and crunched when I pushed down.

She picked up the basket as she stood. "I hope I can be someone worthy of forgiveness to you one day," she said, bowing briefly again. "Perhaps if you visit Suisai again in the future."

She waited, but I wouldn't make a promise I knew I wouldn't keep.

Dipping her head, she turned and left.

I glanced down at the bread and realized that she was the first person I met who didn't treat me like a little kid. The bread was cooler than before, soft on the inside where my thumb poked a hole.

All it was missing were little seeds on top.

I blinked, but the stray thought was gone in an instant.

"Ah, I see you found your first fan," Yahiko said from behind me. He plucked the bread from my hands and took a bite. "You're lucky to only have one."

"It wasn't like that."

He swallowed, eyeing the bread for a moment before he handed it back. "Can't help but notice it tastes a lot like ink and wood," he noted, staring at me.

"Maybe you shouldn't have taken it," I said, taking a bite. It was hard at first, but parts of it were soft and chewy.

"So much sass," he lamented, shaking his head. "So, if she wasn't your fan, who was she?"

I took another bite. "What does bake mean?"

Yahiko waved his hand. "It was just another way of saying she cooked it."

"She was sorry," I explained. "Her husband threw a fireball at me."

"Oh, yeah. I heard about that," Yahiko said. "You know, none of the people I fought came to me with apologies and food."

"That's 'cause they're all detained."

"Are they now?" he mused.

"How's Naga?" I licked my fingers.

"He wants to re-summon Namekuji even though it would put him out of commission for another day. The usual."

ノイズ

I was half-awake.

My cheek was squished against Naga's leg, my body curled up next to him on the couch. He'd shifted over to make room, but it wasn't enough. I was getting too tall.

A blanket was around his shoulders, a cup half-filled with lukewarm tea held between his hands.

"Next time, you're staying with Ren," Konan said. She leaned on the back of the couch where Yahiko sat, her cloak draped on the seat.

"We finally had some peace and quiet around here," Yahiko sighed, deep and dramatic. "It was paradise, right, Nagato?"

Naga sipped his tea, hiding his smile behind the rim.

"Say whatever you want, but you know you missed me," Konan said, leaning close.

Yahiko looked up at her, mouth open to retort, but he didn't say anything. He looked away. "Maybe a little."

Ren, hovering in the middle of the room, quietly cleared his throat. "While this discussion is very interesting, I'm sure Konan didn't force me here for this."

He didn't look as pale as the last time I saw him, and his hair was tied low at his back. He wore the same robe though and it looked dirty.

"Who the fuck asked for your opinion?" Hidan asked. He was laying on his back on the floor, Kuu play-fighting his arm.

"Oh, right!" Konan said, ignoring Hidan entirely as she stood. "Ren managed to convince no one to let him be Chief," she cheerily announced.

"Impressive," Yahiko said.

Hidan burst out laughing.

The corner of Ren's mouth turned down for a second before he smoothed out his expression. "The people here don't want me, and they would be right not to," he said. "I told you this."

"He makes long, boring speeches," Konan added. "I think someone fell asleep during one."

"I've only just begun to learn about the customs and practices here," Ren protested. "You cannot expect me to be a speech master in a matter of days." His composure cracked slightly and embarrassment leaked into his voice.

Hidan cackled, kicking his legs. "What a useless piece of shit!"

Ren eyed him. "And yet, you intimidate me the least."

He stopped laughing and sat up. "Want to repeat that, asshole?"

Yahiko leaned on the back of the couch to stare down at Hidan.

"I was talking to the other asshole in the room, but if the shoe fucking fits," he spat.

Yahiko rested his chin on his arm. "I'm never having kids."

"I bet your dick doesn't even fucking work—"

Yahiko threw a kunai. The handle smacked Hidan's forehead and he went down howling.

"Continue," Yahiko said.

"Did I already mention how many words Ren used to say nothing?" Konan asked the room.

"Maybe we should move on from Ren's shortcomings," Naga suggested.

Ren looked unhappy.

"His lack of experience," Naga amended.

Hidan rolled back and forth on the floor, clutching his forehead and shouting curses.

"If we must," Konan said. She spun to face Haruto, who sat on the bottom stair. "Have you decided to be Ren's advisor yet?"

Haruto blinked slowly at her. "People usually have to pay for the play I just witnessed."

"We're a mess, I know, but—"

"I'm not a mess," I murmured.

"You stale piece of dog dick," Hidan yelled. It was unclear who he was addressing.

"Hasn't anyone taught you manners, Konan?" Yahiko asked.

"Don't start that again—"

"You should let me heal you," Naga suggested seriously, looking at Ren. "I don't know exactly what happened, but your chakra isn't circulating the way it should. And the damage to your coils—" he stopped. "I can still fix it."

"No, you can't," Konan said. "I haven't felt you this low in years. You still can't summon Namekuji."

Naga stared down at his cup. "It has to be done before his body heals and the damage becomes permanent, and I'm the only one here who can do it."

"No," Ren cut in, and the room went silent. "I chose to do this to myself, knowing what the consequences would be. I'm afraid it would only add to my guilt if I allowed you to help me."

Naga lowered his cup. "I'll only fix the superficial damage," he offered. "It won't exhaust me."

Ren held up a hand, shaking his head. "Thank you for caring about my well being, but I've already said no," he said. "And I don't think you're telling the truth."

Naga looked like he wanted to protest more, but he didn't. He only leaned back and adjusted the blanket so it covered me too. His eyes were unhappy.

"You won't be able to help anybody anymore if you hurt yourself too much," I murmured, fighting to keep my eyes open.

Naga sighed. "I know."

"So?" Konan asked Haruto again.

Haruto glanced up the staircase, closed his eyes for a moment, then stood. "I think I have about as much choice in the matter as Ren," he said. He sounded different somehow. Less tired than usual, maybe.

"That's the spirit!"

"I have your support?" Ren asked. He sounded deeply surprised.

"You have more than that," Haruto said, stepping down to the bottom. "I'll be acting as your advisor from now on, if you'll have me."

Ren stared at him. "You're willing to put your town in my hands?"

Haruto nodded. "Now that I know you're not selfish, at least. A selfish bastard would've taken Nagato's offer, regardless of what it would do to him."

My head dipped down and I jerked it up back up, forcing my eyes open again.

Hidan was standing in front of Yahiko, yelling, a red-purple bruise in the middle of his forehead.

Haruto and Ren were—

A hand covered my eyes.

I whined at Naga but couldn't find the energy to push him away.

"You won't be able to help out if you don't get enough rest," Naga said quietly. "Goodnight, Oka."

I passed out.

A/N: 絞り - Aperture, ボケ 味 - Bokeh, ノイズ - Noise

The "intestines smell worse" part is actually a reference to another Akatsuki-centric story on this site called Plasticity. I love it a lot.