"When our fates align,

We will meet again,

It'll be a journey set ablaze,

I keep having to let go of your hand,

For our future's sake,"

-Homura, LeeAndLie

Yahiko waved with both hands when he saw us.

I met Gidayu here. Maybe. I'd guessed at where the middle of the village was, after all.

The makeshift tents were gone (or maybe it wasn't here, but somewhere close), and a wide rectangle had been dug out of the dirt, big enough to cover the whole area. Stone bricks lined with steel filled in the outline of it.

Yahiko stood at a corner outside the rectangle. Piles of bricks, flattened bars of steel, and mounds of dirt were around him.

At the opposite corner an older woman held a metal cup, carefully pouring silver, steaming liquid down onto the side of a brick. She didn't have a middle finger on her right hand.

I watched her slowly, carefully press another brick on top of the first, then I looked at the others digging up dirt or moving bricks around inside the rectangle.

A man with scars around his mouth that looked like scratches, a woman with dark red burn scars that stretched down over her shoulder and circled her left hand, and a man who looked not much older than Ren. He was shirtless, and Maho's glowing hands were on his bruised chest.

A man missing the top half of his ear nudged another, a bald man, and then suddenly everyone had stopped what they were doing to stare at us.

Maho glanced up only long enough for me to catch a small, brief smile before he refocused.

"Lord Taiyōkage," his patient said, wide-eyed.

It wasn't the way they looked at us in Suisai, but it was close. It was more like Gidayu, happy just because I said I'd remember his name.

"Lady Oka," the bald man said awkwardly, less sure of what he thought of us.

Hidan stepped up next to Nagato, scythe dragging behind him as he eyed them. "Shit. You were serious about leading Amegakure."

He almost hid the chatter in his voice, the way his hand was clenched tight around the handle so no one would see his fingers shake. He'd never admit he was cold.

Naga's eyes flashed to Yahiko. "You told them?"

Yahiko had his cloak tied around his middle, his shirt damp with sweat. He laced his hands behind his head, and I saw the small animal on his shoulder, a black body with yellow spots, tiny enough to fit in my hand and still have space left.

He blinked innocently. "Told them what?"

The woman went back to gluing bricks, but the others kept watching us.

I wondered if he told them about our mission, too.

Naga tried to hide his smile, tried to shake his head in pretend exasperation, but he was too happy to pull it off.

"I seem to remember giving you two weeks," Yahiko said, but he was smiling, too.

I glanced back at the shinobi, but if he didn't trust them, they wouldn't be here.

"It wasn't like you thought it would be," I said.

Yahiko blinked. "What does that mean—"

"You lead Amegakure?" Hidan asked. He lifted the scythe and chuckled. "It's like another fucked-up genjutsu."

The warmth faded from Yahiko's gaze, but he still sounded lighthearted when he spoke, "It's nice to see you again too, Hidan. I think it was the cursing I missed most—"

Hidan laughed humorlessly. "Cut the bullshit. You fight as well as the red-head, or what?"

All eyes went to him.

Yahiko looked at Naga. "I suddenly feel like I missed a lot in Yugakure."

"A lot happened, but mainly, blame Oka," he said.

Yahiko nodded. "As one should—"

The scythe blades cracked the dirt, loud enough that the glow around Maho's hands sputtered. Some paused, staring at Hidan with cool, measured eyes, but others didn't turn.

Maho's patient looked at us, asking who Hidan was with his gaze, why we brought him here, if he was someone they could trust.

"I already know you're all fucking heathens, so how about I skip the step where I tell you unworthy bastards about Lord Jashin and go straight to the part where I cut everyone apart and see if I find someone worthy enough to be sacrificed?"

Yahiko stood stiller, eyes flicking to Emon. Maho stopped healing and looked up.

I faced Hidan as he took a step, as Naga tensed.

"Why do you want everyone to be afraid of you?"

He laughed at me, eyes wild. "I told you exactly how it would be back in warm water. Don't pretend to be surprised I'm doing what I said I would, or did you think I was full of shit like a dumbass?" he mocked. "What happened to that I accept you for who you are shit?"

I shrugged. "It's still true. I'm not scared of you. You can make all the threats you want, but that won't change."

"Then you can shut the hell up, stand right there, and enjoy the show," he said, not looking at me. He took a second step and I grabbed his wrist.

"I didn't say I'd let you," I mused, unbothered as he shook me off. "Maybe you can't die, but if you did do this..." I trailed off and stared up at him. "I'd show you why people here call me the Wolf of the Rain."

And he turned fully to face me, eyes swirling and swirling. He leaned down. "Fuck you," he spat. "I'm not scared of you either, shit stain. You invited me to your shitty little village, gave me people to kill, and I'm deciding to kill these bastards instead. How many times do I have to say that every second I'm here is just me waiting for you to let your guard down before you get it?"

I thought about that, and then I thought about what my brother said about how his actions didn't match his words. "I think you came with us because you were tired of being alone."

The intensity, the meanness in his gaze would've scared other people away. I didn't move.

"There are other missing-nin out there, which means there have to be places for them where you could've hid, too," I continued. "Yugakure doesn't want you back, and you killed everyone at the inn. No one else would've invited you anywhere. No one else wants you."

Hidan's eyes widened, just slightly, then narrowed to slits—

"Lord Taiyōkage—"

Yahiko and Naga both looked.

"—I don't mean to interrupt, but I thought I should ask if I should call him a Lord, too?" the patient asked. "Since it doesn't seem like he'll be part of the regular forces."

Hidan blinked once, surprised. His pupils shrunk as he drew back and looked over at him. "The fuck?"

The patient looked like he regretted speaking under all the sudden scrutiny. "You came with Lady Oka and Lord Taiyōkage," he answered lamely. "I don't want to show disrespect if you're part of the Akatsuki."

Hidan looked thrown, but he wasn't from here.

How would he know that what people thought about us wasn't based on how kind we were, but on violence?

They cheered when we killed Hanzo. We were thought of as strong, as gods, because Namekuji killed Hanzo's men, because we killed Hanzo's army.

It was the red trail we left behind us that made Yahiko a 'lord'. It was the lives we took that made us stand out to them.

What were Hidan's threats to a village drowned in blood?

"I'm going to have to assign numbers to us," Yahiko thought aloud.

Maho watched for another second, then went back to healing.

"We could mark them into the metal if you want, Lord Yahiko," the man with the scratch-like scars said, waving a metal plate.

The bald man snorted, digging out another handful of dirt. The woman with the burn scars smothered a laugh.

"Would anyone listen if I asked you not to call me that?" Yahiko asked, staring at the sky.

"Of course," he said, cracking a smile. "But it's usually rude to use first names so causally."

Yahiko smiled, despite himself.

"Have we met before?" Hidan asked lazily, staring at Maho. He didn't acknowledge anything else happening around him.

"I would've remembered if we had," Maho answered absently. "You don't seem easy to forget."

Hidan squinted. "I do fucking know you," he said like he didn't speak. "You're in the bingo book."

Maho's eyes shot wide. He froze, sucking in through his teeth, and though the others didn't stop, I knew they were listening.

"It's a bad thing?" I asked Yahiko.

Yahiko glanced at Hidan, then Maho. "I don't know much about it," he answered. "It's a book that criminals and missing-nin are put in to make them easier to hunt down, as far as I know."

"It's more than that," the man missing part of his ear cut in, throwing dirt onto a pile behind him. "It varies by country, but the main purpose of a bingo book is to keep track of shinobi and kunoichi that are the best at what they do. There are those with a kill-count high enough that they have bounties on their heads, and others that are just too powerful to fight and marked as flee on sight."

"Then why is he in the bingo book?" I asked.

Maho dropped his head in his hands.

Hidan tugged up his scythe. "You're lucky I don't give a shit," he said idly, shaking dirt off the blades. "What the hell did you do? You know how rare it is not to have a rank but still have a bounty that high?"

Maho didn't lift his head. "What does Iwagakure say I did?"

"Theft of village secrets or some shit, but we both know that's bullshit. Why the hell would they want you alive then?"

Maho didn't answer, but I knew.

Hidan shook his head, looking around at the others. "You call yourselves ninja and you didn't know that?"

The woman lowered the cup and glared at him. "We didn't have the luxury to steal bingo books while we were fighting a war, and our village hasn't produced an updated one since the beginning of the second one."

"They can't have him," I said, and Maho let his hands slide down to look at me. "You're not part of Iwagakure anymore. You're a jonin of Amegakure, and a member of the Akatsuki. They can't have you."

Yahiko looked thoughtful. "Negotiating with Iwagakure will be awkward."

"No more than the Land of Iron," Naga murmured.

Yahiko blinked at him. "Wait hold on—"

Hidan tilted his head. "And if Iwagakure doesn't accept that? What, you'd go to war with them?"

"And if I would?" I asked back.

Hidan stared at me, and then he started laughing. "You're really batshit. You'd send an entire village to war over one shithead?"

"I didn't say that," I answered. "No one else has to be involved if they don't want to be."

He laughed harder. "That's not how that fucking works."

"If that's the wrong choice, then what should I do when Yugakure starts asking for you?"

And he stopped laughing.

"As much fun as watching them go at it is..." Yahiko cut in before Hidan could speak. He walked closer to Naga and threw an arm around his shoulders. "I wanted to show you something."

"Show me—?"

"It's like watching two feral cats hiss at each other," he spoke over him. "And why, best friend of mine, I wanted to show you your birthday present."

Naga's eyes widened.

"I never got the chance to explain before, but this whole thing—" he gestured at the bricks and the dirt. "Well, it's only a foundation now, but—"

"Foundation? We barely started the foundation," the man with scratch scars denied.

Yahiko violently waved him away. "I might not make promises anymore, but I still wanted to keep one. I said I would build you a hospital, didn't I?"

Naga slowly turned his head, staring at the foundation, eyes impossibly wider.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Yahiko said.

Naga stepped closer. "You're all—This is—"

"Lord Yahiko failed to mention anything like that," the woman with the burn scars said, and Yahiko raised his hands helplessly. "Still. Happy birthday, Lord Nagato."

The patient echoed her (it sounded like an apology, even though he didn't know), and the scratch-scars man did, too.

He stared at them. "I—thank you. All of you."

Hidan moved away from me, from all of us, saying nothing. He only turned his back to everyone and pulled the Book of Jashin out from under his shirt.

"How did you get them to help you?" I asked, turning to Yahiko.

Why do you trust them, Yahiko?

Yahiko watched the bald man stand, wipe his hands on his pants, and thump Naga on the back, making him stumble, treating him like a comrade instead of a god.

He watched my brother laugh, even as he trembled like he wanted to cry.

"Well—"

"It's not enough. The rice, I mean," the scarred woman answered, sitting back. "Not many still knew how to mill it. It'll be gone in another day. Two, if it's rationed properly, and it sure as hell isn't making anyone feel full. But on that first day I saw Fuji—" she nodded towards the bald man. "—handing out portions, and I watched a little girl hold a handful of rice. It was nothing and eating only that was bound to make her sick eventually, but she looked at it with so much hope."

She tossed more dirt out of the inner rectangle, her fingernails stained brown. "I realized right then and there that you were trying. It didn't seem like it before, even when it spread that there'd be something coming in. It really didn't," she said, shaking her head. "I realized too late that I'm the one that wasn't trying, and I should've been. So, I looked for Lord Yahiko, and now I'm here, wishing I could use earth-style."

The man with the scratch scars chuckled, shaking his head. "Damn straight."

"Everyone here has a different reason for seeking the Akatsuki out," she continued. "But for me, it was that moment and that little girl. I saw civilians splashing around in the water yesterday, pulling up seaweed, drying it out, and wrapping the rice up in it. It was something."

"Feels like I missed a lot, too," I mused.

Yahiko grinned.

I watched Naga roll up his sleeves, tie his hair back, and walk over to the woman gluing bricks together. He knelt and picked up some of the bricks she'd already finished.

"It was a stupid mistake," the patient was saying, tugging his shirt back on. "But I owe you one, Lord Maho. Thank you."

"Just be more careful," Maho said. He climbed out of the hole and plopped down on Yahiko's other side.

"I know what you said," he murmured, staring at his hands. "But it still feels like no matter what I do, I'll always be reminded that I'm only worth something as long as I can do that."

"You were worthless even with that," I told him quietly, and felt his stare. "Iwagakure thought that made you ready for war, but it didn't. It wouldn't have saved you if you had to fight alone. So, it was worthless. You only became worth something because Naga trained you to be a medic-nin. Maybe he trained you in that, too, but it can't save anyone like medical ninjutsu can. It's still worthless."

Maho smiled softly. He covered his eyes with a hand. "That shouldn't make me feel better, but it does."

"I'm still iffy on the starting a war part," Yahiko said. "But the rest I agree with."

Maho covered his face completely again. I heard him sniff.

"Where'd Emon go?" I asked. She wasn't on his shoulder anymore.

Yahiko leaned an arm on my head. "It's nice that you don't bite anymore," he said lightly. "This is the first and last time I'll be able to do this, I think. You'll be too tall soon."

I pushed him off. "I don't need to bite when I found something else that can."

"I don't know if I want to know what that means," Yahiko said breezily. "But, about Emon, she's under my shirt. She's not used to people. Especially loud ones. And it's warmer. But mostly the first one."

"How does she get back inside your body?

Yahiko tapped his chin. "The hard way." He didn't explain more.

I hummed. "Can she control her poison now?"

Yahiko made a vague sound. "She's controlling it faster," he offered.

I missed him.

I glanced at the shinobi again, at Naga politely refusing the bald man's offer to help carry another small stack of bricks. "Why aren't you helping them?"

Yahiko held up two fingers. "One, where do you think all the bricks and perfectly shaped steel came from? They don't melt that way. I'm practically running on empty. And two, I've learned very recently that I'm prone to heatstroke. More than I thought."

The man missing part of his ear scoffed at that. "Gave us all a shock when he passed out earlier."

The scarred woman ducked her head, grinning, shaking with laughter.

"It wasn't very funny on my end," Yahiko said, deadpan.

She made muffled, snorting noises, shaking harder.

I couldn't help but think that if Root could trick Mamoru-sensei, if they could be missed by Namekuji and Naga, they could deceive Yahiko too.

I tilted my head back, but I still couldn't imagine what a hospital would look like.

Even if Kuu came, even if they were tricking us, how long would it take us to do this by ourselves?

Maybe Mamoru-sensei was right, after all.

I stepped towards them. "Can I help?"

製造

"So, let me get this straight," Yahiko began, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. He stood on a blackened part of the floor, glancing at Naga. "You, former best friend—"

"Former?" Naga repeated at a murmur, on the opposite side of the room, sitting with his legs stretched out.

"—went behind my back and enacted a five-step plan—"

"If I had a plan, it would've been easier," Naga protested, but sounded amused.

"—a seven step plan to convince Suisai to sponsor us, with the ultimate goal being to find someone in the Land of Iron willing to trade with us which, I feel like I should remind you, we don't know how to get in contact with them—"

"Joji-sensei does," I pointed out, Namekuji in my lap. "And you do, too."

Yahiko glanced at me. "Do you know what dramatic effect is, Oka?"

"No."

He ignored this, turning to Hidan, who, sitting close to the entrance, was in the middle of trying to tug a metal cable out of the end of his scythe.

"And you," Yahiko started. "You singlehandedly proved that gods not only exist, but are fully capable of helping us if they—"

"You never answered my question, dipshit," Hidan realized suddenly. He adjusted his hold on his scythe and threw it at him.

Yahiko ducked and the blades cracked the wall above him. "—wanted to. What does it say about my life that meeting Minato and not-Madara in the same week is less believable?"

"Why did you bring smelly back here?" Namekuji asked me, looking at Hidan.

I hummed. "He probably took a bath by now."

Namekuji only turned to stare at me.

Hidan pushed himself up and crossed the room. "Fuck out of the way, heathen," he said, standing in front of Yahiko.

"You know, throwing a weapon like that is the fastest way for it to be used against you," Yahiko told him. He didn't move.

Mamoru-sensei watched them in half-amusement, half-wariness from his place against the wall.

"What the hell else am I supposed to do? The cable is broken," Hidan lazily responded, pinky in his ear.

Yahiko blinked once. "Okay but—"

"You gonna move, or what?"

"Depends," Yahiko answered. "Will you throw it at me again if I do?"

"If I feel like it."

"I don't know," I finally answered Namekuji. "Maybe for the same reason." Because I felt like it.

Maybe it was because we might've been friends once. Maybe it was because he spoke the language of violence, too. He made Yugakure understand him with each swing of his scythe.

Hidan lowered his pinky as he and Yahiko stared at each other.

"I hate overconfident bastards the most, you know that?" Hidan said, his tone icy.

Yahiko responded with a dramatic sigh and stood, moving out of his way. "It's not overconfidence. It's caution," he said as Hidan pressed a foot against the wall and tugged the scythe free. "Unlike the powerhouses you fought, I can't create an ocean on command."

Naga looked away, wiping a smile off with the back of his hand.

"That was some wild shit," Hidan agreed without looking, shaking dust and stone off the blades.

Yahiko stepped out of slashing range and turned to Naga. "How often does he do that?"

"Hourly," Naga answered.

Yahiko nodded. He was expressionless as Hidan grinned at him. "Concerning," he said. "But more importantly, you found out that Zetsu is two people."

"Did he say how he did it?" Mamoru-sensei asked, his tone neutral and carefully controlled.

"He didn't," Naga answered, quieter. "It might be a bloodline limit."

Mamoru-sensei never told us all of it, but he said the shinobi that came to them wouldn't die.

"Or Jashinism," Yahiko pointed out.

Hidan swiveled towards him. In one motion he swung the scythe around and pointed the blades at him. "You take that shit back. That's the most blasphemous fuckery I've ever heard."

Yahiko glanced at him and Hidan's eyes blazed.

"I swear to Lord Jashin if you don't—" he broke off with an abrupt, wild laugh. "Actually, I'll just cut your tongue out of your—"

"I take it back," Yahiko said evenly, and Hidan stopped. "I won't joke about it anymore."

Hidan didn't lower the scythe and didn't blink. "What?"

Yahiko fully faced him, lacing his hands behind his head. "I don't have much experience with religion. Other than Suisai, but I don't think that counts. I kind of only learned that Jashinism was a thing, what, ten, twenty, minutes ago?"

He looked at Naga for confirmation.

"Closer to twenty," Naga muttered.

"Twenty minutes ago. If I knew you'd react like this, well, I wouldn't have said it," Yahiko said. "So, I take it back."

Confusion flashed in his eyes and he lowered the scythe slightly. "Why the hell—Why the fuck—"

"Because, for some reason, my little sister wants you to be part of the Akatsuki," Yahiko drawled. "And since I trust her, I'm not going to do anything about it. Except sleep less. And lie to Yugakure. Which, while we're on the subject, why attack them?"

Hidan stared at him for a few seconds. "Piss off."

"Just like the good old days," Yahiko said wistfully.

"And the Masked Man can only maintain his intangibility for a little less than two and a half minutes, you said?" Mamoru-sensei asked, refocusing the conversation.

Hidan dropped his scythe back to his side, still staring at Yahiko.

"As far as we know," Naga answered. "But we can't be sure until we see him again."

"It's his limit," I said with certainty. I poked Namekuji.

"Why," he complained sleepily.

I didn't look up. "He took me to his dimension to show me he was powerful. He told us his name because it means something powerful. He came to us in Fire Country so we'd see how strong he was and how much he knew about us. He wouldn't show us that his power has a limit, even as a trick. And he couldn't make Hidan stop, because he didn't want to be my enemy."

"He probably thought you'd call him back," Naga murmured.

Hidan's eyes slid to him. "I'm not a dog, fuck face. And I especially don't listen to her."

"Any other ninja would've kept their distance," Mamoru-sensei dryly agreed. "I can't say I'm surprised that you recruited someone like him."

Yahiko shook his head. "Annoying someone into showing a weakness. That's a new one, even for me."

"You did it to Lady Tsunade," Naga pointed out.

"I charmed her, thank you very much."

"Who's Madara Uchiha?" I asked, looking at Yahiko. Namekuji was asleep.

He knew who he was when we first met not-Madara, but it hadn't mattered as much as the sharingan, as much as the dimension, as much as falling to pieces.

Yahiko crossed his arms. "Surprised not-Madara didn't tell you."

"I wouldn't have cared if he did, after the second time."

"Fair point," Yahiko said. He looked at Mamoru-sensei, holding out an invisible baton, a look in his eyes that made me think of Hanako. Trying, trying—

Mamoru-sensei held his gaze, then closed his eyes for a moment. "Madara Uchiha, as the history books say, was once the co-founder of Konohagakure over one-hundred years ago. The abridged version is that he eventually lost his mind, was driven out by both his clan and the village and returned years later with the intent to destroy his creation. He was stopped and killed by the Hokage at the time, Hashirama Senju."

If Hidan was immortal, why couldn't other people be?

"He was said to be a force of nature, the kind of man who could burn you alive if you locked eyes with him for too long," Mamoru-sensei continued. "It might be possible that he found his own brand of immortality, but I have my doubts it's him."

Naga glanced at Hidan.

Hidan stared back. He'd sat back down and propped his scythe up between his legs, the blades leaning on the wall behind him. "The fuck do you want?"

"If he is immortal..." Naga trailed off. "Any idea on how it could've happened?"

Hidan blinked once. He leaned back and shook his head. "Lord Jashin might be the only god that matters, but I never said shit about him being the only one that can do this."

No one spoke for a few seconds.

"The longer this goes on the more concerned I feel," Yahiko said idly.

"He could be a reincarnation," I pointed out, poking Namekuji again.

Naga and Yahiko looked at each other.

"I'm going to start cursing," Namekuji threatened.

"Too many mistakes," Mamoru-sensei said, and everyone but Hidan looked at him. "His misinterpretation of who Oka is speaks of inexperience, not the ability to accurately predict character that I suspect would come from a man who lived for decades. A reincarnation who served the Sage of Six Paths wouldn't need to lie about how you met. At best, the Masked Man is a puppet for someone else. At worst, he's a child with too much power pretending to be Madara Uchiha."

Yahiko stared at the floor, eyebrows furrowed, a hand half covering his mouth. "It was Zetsu who introduced us to him."

"I'm not sorry to interrupt whatever the fuck this is—" Hidan said, eyes on Mamoru-sensei as he gestured around the room. "—but what bullshit story did Amegakure feed you about the Sage of Six Paths? Is it as wild as what they tell the assholes in Kusagakure?"

I shifted to look at him. "Who do they say he was in Kusagakure?"

"Some nobody who opened a box or a can or something equally stupidly hilarious and got a bunch of power from it," he answered without looking.

I looked at Mamoru-sensei while Yahiko looked pensive and Naga tilted his head back against the wall, tired-looking.

Mamoru-sensei slipped his hand in his pocket and closed his eyes. "Back when there was an Academy, the Salamander used to tell kids that the Sage of Six paths made the rainclouds. That that was why the sky never cleared."

Hidan yawned. "That's it? That's not funny. That's just boring."

"Sorry to disappoint," Mamoru-sensei said back. He didn't sound sorry.

"I liked it," I told him.

"What the hell happened to the rain, anyway?" Hidan asked.

Mamoru-sensei looked at Naga, and Hidan followed his gaze.

"Fuck me," was all he said.

A/N: 製造 - Manufactured, 夢 - Dream

tfw you make a big deal about making towers out of steel then realize that a very hot fire jutsu + steel buildings = easy bake oven. So you get lined with steel instead.