"This world is what you need,

Where the monsters roam and the demons all feed,

Relax don't you look so weary,

It's all only temporary."

-Phantom, NateWantsToBattle

I rubbed a petal between my thumb and pointer finger.

It was soft.

The flower Naga planted for Etsudo's son was still alive.

The face of the flower was aimed up, straining for the pieces of sunlight that made it through the hanging moss.

I saw white-blue patches of sky through the gaps. There were barely any clouds at all.

I watched the sky as it bled to a darker blue, and then a blue so dark the sky looked black. I couldn't stop looking at it.

Naga sat on the wet grass next to me. "We could wait until morning to go back."

I shook my head, sniffing as tears blurred my vision. I wiped them away with my sleeves. "The faster we go back, the sooner we can see everyone again."

When would I be able to feel warm again?

I had only just gotten used to not being cold all the time.

Naga pulled me against him. "Think of what you felt the first time we saw the sun come up and everyone else getting to feel that when they see it too," he murmured. "Imagining it makes me a little less sad."

I buried my face in his chest.

He sighed into my hair. "I promise you'll get to see it again."

.

.

.

The clouds were thick and dark gray, the only thing standing between us and the sun.

I held out a hand as the drizzle started, as the cold sapped away the warmth, settling in my bones like an old friend I'd forgotten.

Water bobbed gently under my feet.

The village was up ahead, a skeleton of half-finished metal buildings and rubble.

"I really missed this place," Yahiko mused, walking ahead, hands behind his head.

I dropped my hand. "Why?"

"Because of how much I want to save it," he answered. "There's so much pain here. It's such a crybaby. But it made us who we are. We never would've helped Suisai if this place didn't show us how wrong it is to leave other people to suffer, that the only way to fix something wrong is to do it ourselves."

He shook his head, looking up. "I owe this place for that, because I don't want to be anyone other than who I am now." He paused and laughed a little. "That sounds really messed up out loud, doesn't it?"

Konan pulled his arm down so she could squeeze his hand. "If I wasn't born here we never would've met," she said. "I wouldn't be happy in that life."

"I wouldn't be a shinobi, or a medic-nin," Naga said quietly, staring out over the lake. "I would've been a civilian, and I never would've been able to help as many people."

I looked at the people I loved most, then at the village.

Without Amegakure, I wouldn't be me.

I would still have Naga if I were born somewhere else. And I would have the sun.

But I never would've met Yahiko and Konan, Jiraya and Tsunade, Mamoru-sensei, Namekuji, Kota, or anyone else.

I would have different friends, and I wouldn't be part of the Akatsuki.

Who would that 'me' be?

Someone who felt like killing was wrong, someone who never knew loss.

Someone who never went to Suisai.

Someone without a dream of peace.

I couldn't imagine that 'me'.

It rained harder, creating ripples.

"It's because of what happened to us as kids that I want to protect others from that," Yahiko added. He used his free hand to point to the middle of the village. "I'm going to build an Academy there—" he moved his hand to the left. "—and a hospital there. Nagato will run it."

Naga choked, coughing into his palm. "I'll what?"

"We need more medic-nin and you're the only one I trust to train them right," Yahiko said, looking back. "I can't waste the best medic-nin in Amegakure, can I?"

Naga's eyes widened.

"I won't interfere, even if you do a bad job," he added with a grin.

"I'll..." Naga trailed off. He shook his head, his smile soft. "I'll try."

We were closer to the village, and the rain turned into a downpour. I was completely soaked in seconds, but I didn't mind it anymore.

"Try is an understatement. I feel bad for all the future trainees you'll overwork," Konan said.

Naga's smile widened. "I'll only push them to be their best."

She scoffed.

"What can I do?" I asked.

"Well—"

"Stop," Naga said suddenly. He stared ahead of us and his smile disappeared.

Konan stepped away from Yahiko. "How many?" she asked.

"Ten high-level shinobi and Hanzo. He's waiting for us," Naga answered.

"Hostile?" Yahiko asked.

Naga's eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know."

Yahiko looked ahead and a few seconds passed before he shook his head. "Let's go meet him, then."

Naga hesitated.

Konan's eyes flicked forward, uneasy.

"There's no choice," he added. "I have the feeling he has shinobi watching all of the most common entry and exit points along the border, too. The only way to avoid this is to go back to Fire Country and I can't abandon this place. I can't."

Naga sagged. "You're right."

"We weren't going to," Konan said. "But a plan would be nice."

Yahiko crossed his arms. "The plan is for Oka not to growl at Hanzo."

Three pairs of eyes looked at me.

"Maybe he shouldn't do anything worth being growled at," I chirped.

Yahiko stared at me. I stared right back.

"Good enough," he eventually conceded.

Yahiko faced away and Naga took my hand. I looked at him.

"This is for my health," he murmured. "As long as I hold onto you, you can't do anything to weaken my heart."

I frowned and started to protest when I saw how scared he was.

Not for himself. Never for himself.

For me.

The words caught in my throat. "Only because it's you," I muttered.

Naga shot me a small, grateful smile and followed Yahiko.

I saw the shadows of people standing on the shore, lined up, waiting. One stood in front. Hanzo. He gripped a chain-sickle in his right hand.

Shinobi wearing rebreathers stood behind him.

Naga let go of my hand, but hovered close.

Yahiko stopped on the water, only a few feet between us and them. "Hanzo," he greeted nonchalantly, hands in his pockets. "Finally come around on my offer to work together?"

Hanzo the Bastard didn't blink. "Why shouldn't I execute you where you stand?"

Yahiko glanced up at a half-built tower. "As long as war continues outside of Rain Country, Amegakure will never know peace," he said. "The only way for the village to have true peace is for the world to be at peace too. That's why we left. I'm going to end the war, but if I ignore people suffering because they're from a different country, it'll never happen. I'll just be a liar."

He locked eyes with Hanzo. "We went to Fire Country to help a town that needed us. We're not deserters, and we're not traitors," he said. "I love Amegakure too much to leave it. As long as the people here are in pain I'll always come back."

Hanzo stared at him. Yahiko didn't flinch.

Half a minute passed before Hanzo relaxed his grip on his sickle. "We will meet at Shido Valley in three days time," he finally decided. "Only then will I hear your plan for peace, Yahiko of the Akatsuki."

Hanzo didn't wait for a response before he sheathed his weapon and walked away.

Yahiko inclined his head anyway.

.

.

.

"I can't sense them," Naga said.

Konan sighed deeply in relief and sank down against the wall.

Naga bent over, hands on his knees, and caught his breath.

I watched them, standing at the mouth of the alley, and I wondered if not being afraid was wrong.

I couldn't sense like they could, but still.

Our encounter with Hanzo felt a lot like the first time, except back then he didn't have a weapon. He'd focused only on Yahiko this time, and it was like the rest of us weren't there at all.

I pulled at the memory of fear. Afraid that I would be left behind, afraid of Jiraya and Tsunade leaving, terrified that without them around, we would never be strong enough to stop the war.

I knew what it felt like, but when I tried to summon it, to guide the feeling towards the thought of Hanzo, I felt anger instead. It boiled into rage when I thought of Root and what he'd done to Mamoru-sensei.

I leaned back on my heels, as if my anger were a force pushing my body forward and this was the only way I could keep my balance.

Yahiko pressed his back against the wall, tilted his head back, and quietly laughed.

Konan looked baffled. She pushed herself up and swatted his stomach.

He choked.

"What about that was funny? It was terrifying," Konan said. "He was going to kill us."

Yahiko still shook with laughter. "I know."

"Our impending deaths are funny to you?"

He shook his head. "I'm just happy," he said. "This is the closest we've ever been to peace."

Konan stared.

"I only have one shot at it," Yahiko continued. "One shot to convince Hanzo the Salamander to help me fight for peace. But he gave me a chance." he said, grinning, shaking his head.

Konan looked away. "I want to believe in Hanzo's offer as much as you do, but it's probably a trap."

"There's no 'probably' about it," Naga said. "It's a trap."

"It's also the only chance we have for a peaceful end to all of this. I ignore it and he'll trust us even less. He'll never agree to meet again," Yahiko countered, his good mood fading. "But the way Amegakure is now isn't working and it can only be fixed if we have the power to make big changes. If we refuse to meet or I can't convince him to share his power then our path forward is soaked in blood."

He looked away from us. "If we start a war, Hanzo will use the shinobi and civilians here against us. I don't want to have to kill anyone I said I would protect or turn the Akatsuki into something we're not. We have to do this, not only for us, but for everyone else, too." He smiled, but it looked wrong.

A sad smile doesn't suit you, Yahiko.

I strode forward as Konan and Naga took in what he said and wrapped my arms around his middle.

He let out a laugh that sounded more surprised than genuine, a second before Konan hugged him too.

"Look, I appreciate all the love, but you're both squeezing me kind of tight—"

Konan reached back and grabbed Naga's arm, rolling her eyes at his panicked look as he was yanked into the group hug.

"Okay, now I really can't breathe," Yahiko gasped.

Squished in the middle, I looked up.

Konan, smiling wide, had an arm around both Yahiko and Naga's necks.

Naga patted her arm urgently. "I can't run any future hospitals if I die of asphyxia—" she tightened her grip and he made a sad little wheeze.

Konan looked happier.

"Mercy," Yahiko choked out.

I considered intervening as Naga turned bright red, but then she'd only release him to grab me.

"Ah," Konan said, looking down, reading my thoughts like glass. "Isn't this nice, Oka?"

"Please," Yahiko tried. "Air."

Naga made a strangled sound.

I nodded obediently.

日没

I knelt and picked up a scroll, the pale-yellow outer covering discolored by water stains.

I spread it out on the floor and smoothed it down, catching the words 'request,' 'pay,' and the symbol for Kusagakure written in wobbly script at the bottom. I skimmed it, skipping over the words I couldn't read or were too ruined to make out.

Two more scrolls were next to my feet, one gray, the other tan.

I knew Kota had been careful to keep them out of the rain because they were all more readable than the Suisai scroll.

"He won't agree to your plan," Mamoru-sensei said. He sat beside Osamu, the couch more broken-down than when we'd left. It sagged heavily in the middle.

Mamoru had looked at Yahiko in blatant disbelief as he told an exaggerated story of what happened in Suisai (not because we'd done it, but because we'd done it so fast), but when Yahiko told him about our encounter with Hanzo his expression shuttered into something darker.

Osamu, hands folded under his chin, stared hard at the floor.

"I'm trying to stay optimistic here," Yahiko said, biting the tail off a tiny, cooked, leftover fish. Bones and pieces of skin littered his lap, his Akatsuki cloak an impromptu table.

Etsudo sat against the back wall, Konan in front of her, a pile of our pouches and weapons between them. Etsudo inspected corners of shuriken and the tips of kunai with careful, practiced hands.

Konan leaned forward, made a wild gesture with her hands, and I could hear Etsudo's laugh from across the room.

Etsudo was telling her a story about her and Mamoru-sensei's short-lived genin team, but I couldn't help but notice her tired eyes. It was easy to see past her enthusiasm, the not-quite-full smile she put on.

I looked above them to where Maho sat on the second floor, peering down at us through the bars. Naga's textbook was next to his knee. He raised a hand when he caught my eye, hesitant, unsure of how he fit in with the rest of us, but I didn't return it.

He wasn't part of the Akatsuki. Not really. Not yet.

"Optimism will get you nowhere with him," Mamoru-sensei finally said back.

Naga laid on the floor close to the door, his Akatsuki robe tucked under his head, Namekuji feeding off his chakra while he slept.

Yahiko swallowed. "He'll agree, because I'll make him see it my way," he told him. "The path we're on—it's always been the hardest one. It doesn't matter how stubborn or paranoid Hanzo is because this isn't about me or him. The village has to change, or everyone living here will die. I have to believe that somewhere inside he still wants what's best for this place."

Mamoru-sensei closed his eyes. Etsudo trailed off and went quiet.

"I promised peace," he continued. "Everyone believed in me because I said we were different from the people that take what they want. I said we would change the world our own way. If I turn my back on that now, what makes me any different than Hanzo?"

The question twisted my stomach into knots. It felt wrong.

"Don't compare yourself to him. The way he treats shinobi better than civilians—that existed before Shuji," Mamoru-sensei said, leaning back, voice was carefully level. "I used to blame the war for why we had to accept that deal with that one-eyed bastard, but all it took was you, years ago, for me to see that it was our own fault. We spent so much time protecting the place that we stopped protecting the people."

What did 'peace' really mean?

Could you kill for peace and still call what you did peace?

"Not even as tall as me and you made me think you would've made better decisions than the four of us combined," Mamoru-sensei ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "If we stopped sending as many shinobi out into Rain Country to defend our border so aggressively, things might be different. Even if it was I know the Akatsuki still would've come knocking and I'd feel old and obsolete, regardless."

Osamu looked at him in surprise.

"Was that a speech, Mamoru-sensei?" Konan asked, eyebrow raised.

"That was a speech," Yahiko confirmed, cracking rib bones off and popping them in his mouth.

Mamoru-sensei made a vague, grumbly noise at them and covered his face with his hand.

I turned back to the scrolls.

Konan stood. "Who do you think will give a 'cheer up' speech next? Etsudo, Osamu, or Maho? Or should it be a 'you're wrong and here's why' speech?"

"Annoying kids," Mamoru-sensei grouched.

"The second one is too long," Yahiko answered. "I would call it the 'Yahiko is the best influence and changed my life for the better' speech."

Konan snorted. "What about 'Yahiko is so full of himself that other people aren't allowed to make speeches without him giving himself credit?'"

"That doesn't exactly roll of the tongue..."

"But yours does?" Konan asked, crossing her arms.

Etsudo turned a kunai over in her hands, a wistful look in her eyes. "You're so different I can't believe it's you sometimes, Mamo," she murmured.

A/N: 日没- Sunset

Seat belts properly fastened, everyone?