A/N: I've read a book in the past week that explains my twisted relationship with self disclosure. It is called Growing Up In Public: Coming of Age In a Digital World. I certainly grew up in a digital world. Computers have existed for my entire lifetime. That means I am part of a generation that grew up with a distorted and shaky idea of what "privacy" is. Truthfully, I don't understand what that word means. Endless self-disclosure is the norm, and withholding some piece of information is a deliberate act that is only ever performed with a good reason. Privacy, assumed to be the human default with self-disclosure as the deliberate act, is a totally backward and alien thing to me. That's not how I grew up.

But perhaps that's how I'd prefer to live from now on? Perhaps privacy is a human default and my increasing desire for what I've been calling "secrecy" is nothing more than a return to how I should always have been?

Big changes are afoot. I'm getting new ideas that I've never gotten before. I won't describe them here. You'll know what they are when they happen, or not, if you don't look in the right places. Whatever. It's not any of my business what my audience does or doesn't think.

Stories are my business. So let's get on with it.

.

Itachi

Nothing special happened for the rest of that day. Obito sat and grieved. Yahiko eventually asked permission to summon Tobi out, which Obito granted. Warlic, Solis, and Manta lined up and waved their arms in an exceptionally cute way. Tobi found Zetsu in the front yard and dragged him away to show him the pretty things that had been collected so far. Itachi brooded. Original Hidan found the other two originals and gave them the most stilted, formal update on his progress that he could manage. Original Nagato replied to him the same way. This caused Original Hidan to scowl, look for a map and go out scouting. Dinner was an informal affair. Almost everyone ate separately in a variety of locations.

The next morning, Itachi woke up with a feeling of great insight. He rubbed his head. Yesterday really was not productive, was it? What did I do besides mope? I must do better today. I must try again. He still hadn't figured out what to do about his thoughts. But his thoughts were the very things that other people counted on, so he gathered his courage and waded back into the mist. I must create useful things, good ideas that others can use that will help them. I have seen so much, heard so much, remembered so much. There must be something good I can make out of all this.

He brushed his hair, washed his face and put on new clothes. Mentally, this helped him sit down in the middle of the mist. There was no sense in straining himself. He had no idea when or how or if a great idea would assemble before him. All he could do was wait. That was all he'd ever been able to do.

Original Nagato came to collect him. They went up the stairs and into the twin room slash office, where Original Yahiko awaited. Original Hidan was there, too; Original Nagato hesitated briefly at the sight of him. Was he not here before? Is there a reason why? Could he be uncomfortable with Hidan? Why would Yahiko have brought someone that makes his comrade uncomfortable into their private room behind his comrade's back - stop it! Itachi covertly dug a fingernail into his skin, hoping for the sting to quiet his thoughts. It didn't work.

"Itachi. Report."

"On what?"

"Anything that merits reporting," Original Yahiko said gently. "This is an uncertain situation. Anything could be relevant."

Everything could be relevant. Itachi blinked forcefully while simultaneously digging in his fingernail and conjuring up a mental image of the Big Bang. It didn't work. The mist remained as thick as ever. "...In the absence of any form of guidance, I will need great amounts of time to think of anything to report."

"Start with the matter we discussed yesterday," Original Nagato said. He sounded annoyed. "You called it being on-camera. That means that for a period of time, the author was observing events. Were you able to track their attention?"

Oh, no. "I'm afraid I spent most of yesterday away from other people. Wherever the focus was, it was not on me." And I have not gathered information from anyone else to determine if and when they were on camera. I really didn't do anything useful. How embarrassing!

Original Nagato sighed. "Tools are meant to be used."

Itachi rapidly translated that into the criticism it was meant to be and ducked his head, ashamed. "Most likely, in a group of this size, the focus will shift often and drastically. There is nobody who will be consistently on-camera. The entire group would have to gather and compare their observations in order to track it."

"Then that is what you shall do. You already have regular meetings over dinner. It will not be difficult to begin tracking the focus." Translation: you should have been doing this already.

Itachi curled up against the wall with his phone. "I will inform everyone how to detect when the focus is on them, then," he said in hardly more than a whisper. His face was warm and he cringed at the thought that they could probably see him blushing. See his shame. All these ideas, but hardly any of them carried out. All these plans, most of them abandoned. All of this material, wasted, unprocessed, unorganized. A badly-built machine gummed up by its own raw materials. I have the potential for greatness, but it goes unfulfilled. And that is wasteful. That is wrong. That is a bad thing to do. I am a bad person for not reaching my own potential. But what else can I do? I can't change myself. A meter cannot measure itself. Yet… Nobody can change my thoughts for me. If I can't change myself, and nobody else can change me, then what hope is there?

Putting together a coherent written message interrupted the thought spiral, at least temporarily. Itachi felt a little better for about five minutes. Then he hit Send and put his phone away. "It is done."

"Fina-fucking-ly," Original Hidan muttered. "You clones are morons."

He's right.

"If I may," Original Yahiko said. He waited for Nagato's nod before continuing. "From what I've been told about this 'focus,' it seems like the entire evening yesterday may have been spent out of focus. Nobody had great peaks of emotion for those several hours."

Itachi's heart began to thump. "An entire day. Then several hours? In quick succession?"

"Finally, something good!" Original Hidan leaned forward. "What's it mean?"

"W-well, that's less focus than we have ever received before." Itachi's eyes widened. "Come to think of it… There may be a trend of decreasing focus. I can't say for sure if there is one or not. But if there is, and if these extended breaks continue -"

"Get to the point!"

"Then we may learn the hard way what happens to a story that stops being written, after all."

"There is no reason to believe that," Original Nagato argued. "We have only just begun our work. This mission is nowhere near the point of being considered a success or a failure."

Itachi's eyes stayed wide. My thoughts. My attempts to be free of them. Writing is the ultimate form of organization. It is used to combat that mist. Does greater success in escaping the mist cause decreased interest in writing? Am I the one who is endangering our story?

"We're definitely on-camera right now," Original Hidan said. "Because he's freaking out like nobody's business. I can smell it. He's nearly panicking."

"What happens to a tool when it's not needed anymore?" Itachi asked. But he already knew the answer. Konan had said it herself during the second funeral. It gets thrown out. Discarded. He slumped down onto the floor. "We're bringing an end to our own story."

"Uh, Itachi?" Original Yahiko knelt in front of him. "Itachi?"

But that's a good thing. Isn't it? Moving on, finding peace, learning how to be happy - aren't those all good things? Itachi swallowed back tears. Not when you're the one that gets left behind.

"Itachi?"

Itachi wiped his eyes dry and sniffled. "Yes?"

"What's wrong?"

Itachi wanted to tell him. But the vision that had assembled out of the mist was enormous. It contained a large amount of memories, many conflicting emotions, and enough branching connections to different snippets of writing that Itachi had read over his lifetime to compete with the average brain neuron. It was too big. It could not be neatly packaged into words. Itachi shook his head. "I would like to tell you, but I cannot."

"Cannot. Why?"

"Because what I have to say is similar to a tree branch, except that it is much more delicate than that. It could not survive the slightest bit of folding or compression. And words are like boxes. Even the most expansive of words is not large enough to contain this idea without damaging it beyond repair. I'm sorry."

Original Yahiko's brow wrinkled. "I don't understand."

"And I cannot transmit the understanding to you. So we are trapped this way, at an impasse." Itachi shrugged. "Haven't you ever felt or thought of things that could not be said?"

"What the fuck is this shit?" Original Hidan snarled. "We're here to talk about our mission, not write free-form poetry."

"You are, but I'm not." Itachi stood up. "Generating great ideas clears my mind. My mind is clearer now than it has been in days, and I intend to enjoy it. I will sing songs to the dolls." The originals were all visibly confused, but he didn't care. He had no desire to explain things to them. Explanation was a tool that he did not need right now. He put it aside and walked out the door, wondering when was the last time he'd picked up his guitar.

Nagato

"What is it?" Hidan asked with a purr.

Nagato held out his hands. Hidan took them. They held hands. Nagato took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "Let's go on a real, official, date-date."

Hidan's eyes widened. "Shit. I mean yes. Totally!" He tilted his head. "How?"

"You've never… Oh. Of course not."

"Howzabout we go and hang out, just the two of us, hanging out like normal, but we tell everyone it's a date?"

Nagato imagined what that might look like. "That's the only thing I can imagine, honestly. What else would we do? What else makes a date into a real date?"

Hidan shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. Tonight? Skip dinner here?"

Nagato's face flushed. His heart beat faster. A smile flickered on and off his lips. "Okay. That sounds good."

Hidan purred again. "Oh fuck yes. C'mere."

Sometime later, they reluctantly parted. It was time for Nagato to go to work. "Remind Konan for me," he told Hidan. Hidan promised he would. Nagato went back to his own room to get dressed.

Or at least, that was what he intended to do. He was stopped in the hall by one of the originals. It was Original Yahiko. "Hello," Original Yahiko greeted. He looked awkward, uncomfortable, unsure of what he was doing. Just like his clone. "Uh… Destination?"

"I'm going to my room to get dressed for work," Nagato answered. "Is everything alright?"

"That's why I'm here," Original Yahiko replied. Now he looked serious, totally unlike his clone.

It was hard to talk to him. He and his clone looked identical right up until the moment they reacted to things. Then they made different facial expressions, spoke in different ways, stood and walked differently. It was like plunging into the uncanny valley. Like one of those illusory drawings that flips back and forth looking like two different pictures depending on how you think of it, Original Yahiko alternated jarringly between a familiar lifelong friend and a total stranger. Nagato felt deeply uncomfortable. "Well, I hope you find that everything is alright. Um. Hidan and I just made plans to be away from the base tonight. We'll miss dinner." I really really hope he doesn't ask what those plans are.

Original Yahiko took a step back. A familiar look of anxiety and indecision appeared on his face. Once again, he was the familiar friend. "Missing dinner? Ah… That won't work well with something we intend to do." He put his serious face back on. Total stranger. "In order for us to create lasting change in your group, we need something solid to work with. Your nightly meetings are the only solid thing we've found so far. We intend to develop them into more than they currently are."

Nagato's hands curled. "Well, Hidan and I won't change our plans." My plan. That I made myself. Because I've finally become brave.

Original Yahiko looked around, then spoke in a quiet voice. "Our goals are very important."

"Our plans are also very important," Nagato replied, just as quietly.

Original Yahiko studied his face. What he looked for was unclear. "We have a way to detect the presence of the author. If the whole group compares their detections over the course of each day, we can track the author's focus."

I could not care less. Nagato took a moment to think of a diplomatic way to phrase his response. "I finally mustered the courage to do something that previously scared the wits out of me. I cannot back down. Not on my very first of…such experiences. The first of something is a milestone, and this is a critically important milestone. I have to reach it. This tracking project of yours can be started on any night, but if I back down from my decision it will deal a devastating blow to my courage that I might not ever recover from."

Original Yahiko nodded once. "I'll pass that on."

Nagato breathed a sigh of relief. "I'd better go. Don't want to be late for work." On a sudden impulse, he added, "I work at a dog shelter."

"A dog shelter?" Original Yahiko smiled, just a little. Familiar friend.

"Yeah. We had a version of Chibi, too."

Original Yahiko's smile faded. Total stranger. "Dogs are innocents. The world is often cruel to those."

Nagato turned away. He couldn't stand the switching any longer. "The only innocence that exists in this world is the kind you create on purpose. Innocence from inexperience doesn't exist." At last, he left. Naivete is not purity. Immaturity is not innocence. Everything I thought Yahiko was when I was young is actually something that he's only just become. I was wrong about him, seeing only what I wanted to see. I won't make that mistake again.

He looked forward to work. If Marsha expressed any kind of lingering concern for him, he would tell her it was misplaced, and he would be telling the truth. I feel better. For now. But now is just as valid as any other point in time, and the betterness that I feel isn't diminished by the possibility that it might be temporary. Whether it lasts or not is irrelevant. I feel better right now. That's all that matters.

Kisame

Samehada shook her head when Kisame asked if she wanted to come to work with him. He immediately turned serious. "Do you want to face the originals by yourself?"

She nodded.

"Without someone to translate for you?"

She nodded again.

That seemed like the interpersonal equivalent of the proposed fight against Konan. Samehada was wildly outmatched, had close to zero odds of succeeding, and most people if placed in her position would think they were being set up for humiliation. Yet she was all for it. Maybe she wants to do these crazy things as a way of testing herself, or as a way of proving to the rest of us that she shouldn't be ignored any longer. "Be careful around Original Hidan. But he's easily distracted and the other two seem chill, so you should be alright. I, uh, hope it works."

Samehada warbled and chirped in delight, then climbed up onto the bed to nuzzle him goodbye. He kissed her back and told her he would miss her. It was the truth. The shark tank didn't look right without its resident shadow. He'd heard some kids ask where she was, using that very name. He didn't tell her. All it would do was make her feel guilty. He gave her another scratch, then headed out.

"Going to work?" Original Nagato asked as he passed through the lobby.

"Yeah. Same stayed behind because she wants to spend time with you guys. Treat her like a person."

"Is your version of Samehada fully intelligent?"

"Yeah." Kisame left the building. He went around the side and started his car. Now that a stone path had been made, Deidara's taxi services were no longer required.

Tammy ambushed him as soon as he entered the building. "Did you do it?"

He groaned. "Damn. No, I forgot."

"Kisame!"

"I'll do it tomorrow. I'll have the whole day available then."

Tammy silently pleaded with him, her face torn by desperation. A stranger could be forgiven for thinking she was asking him to help her keep her children in a contentious divorce case. Who in their right mind would guess that she shipped two strangers she'd never met that badly? "I hope the flame of true love doesn't die out between today and tomorrow."

"Original Yahiko was dead for at least a decade before Original Nagato followed him. If that didn't change anything, a single day won't either." Kisame shook his head. "Besides, I'm no good at playing matchmaker. If you wanted someone who could do it with no hesitation, you should have asked Hidan."

Tammy sighed and admitted he was right. Kisame proceeded to start his workday. A feeling of strangeness tinged everything he saw and did. At first, he assumed it was because of Samehada's absence. But the feeling lingered long past the point where he usually got absorbed in the flow of routine working activities. Nothing looked routine. Everything felt strange. What's that term? Jamais vu. What's causing it? He wondered this for a long time. Finally, after half a day, he realized that his ninja instincts were activated. He couldn't stop thinking of the originals' mission to create discipline and order, if they were succeeding at all, what conditions looked like back home. That was why the aquarium looked unfamiliar. It was the closest thing to a real-world location, and he was seeing it through a mindset that belonged to a different world. It looked chaotic, disorganized, just wrong in a way he struggled to put words to. I wonder which of us is the one that doesn't belong. The real world, or the story world?

Kakuzu

Plan A: Impress The Originals From The Beginning was a dismal failure. So what? Was he just going to give up? No, Kakuzu decided. He was not.

He nodded in complete agreement to their tracking plan. "It will be good to know where and when we're being controlled. That could explain a lot of things."

"Assuming that this 'focus' is related to the degree of control we get," Konan added. "It may not be. Even if we are not in focus, our actions are still restrained by what has been established."

"The mental effects alone, though," Yahiko said. "As someone who's been heavily affected by those, I say they're important."

Kakuzu, Konan, Yahiko, Hidan, and all three of the originals were holding a meeting in the sunroom. A table and chairs had been brought in so they weren't all sitting on the carpet. Deidara and Samehada sat on the carpet near the door. They wanted to know what was going on, but Original Nagato insisted that only those with a leadership role could participate, so they were spectators. For now. We'll see if things go the way Original Nagato wants them to. Original Hidan sat on the back of the stuffed chair that was normally kept in the sunroom. This made his status as participant or spectator unclear, and also allowed him to look down on all of them because the back of that chair rose above the folding chairs. It was the perfect perch for a cat.

"Clone Hidan, with his empathic powers, is the most affected by those," Konan said. She looked at Clone - er, Regular - Hidan. "What is your position?"

Hidan adjusted his cloak so that it wasn't touching his neck as much. "I just like to go with the flow of things. I don't really have an opinion. If this tracking project reveals something about the flow of things, though, I'll have an opinion about that."

"I have generated some hypotheses to guide initial discussion," Original Nagato said. He opened a notebook that he had requisitioned from Kakuzu. "My first hypothesis is that the focus would gravitate towards wherever there are the most characters interacting. Unless something unexpected is happening right now, the focus should be here, on this meeting, if my hypothesis is accurate."

They all took a moment to try to detect the mysterious vibe Itachi had described. Kakuzu took out his phone and read Itachi's description in the group chat. When we are on camera, everything seems very significant. There is a feeling of tension in the air, a tightness. Times when we are not on camera pass smoothly, allowing you to get immersed in the moment and be mindless for a while. But when we are on camera, it is impossible to be mindless. You will be very observant of everything, and events will not feel smooth, but rather bumpy and slightly forced.

"It sure feels important to be here, discussing these things," Yahiko said. "And it's impossible to be mindless in a meeting with trained ninjas."

"I, personally, don't know what it means to be mindless. I don't like to be mindless and I despise anyone who does." Kakuzu turned to Hidan. "That leaves Itachi's description of the flow of events being bumpy. What does the expert on flow have to say?"

"Definitely bumpy right now," Hidan answered.

"Explain how you are able to detect that," Konan ordered.

Hidan took a moment to think. "Well, the fact that we're talking about our story instead of just plain living it is probably what Itachi meant by being observant. I don't look down on people who like to be mindless. I think it's great to experience things without analyzing them to death. But that feels totally impossible right now." He spread his fingers wide and placed his hand flat on the table, moving it around. "See, this right here is raw sensory experience. I can normally tune into that, feeling it just as it is and not thinking of it as good or bad or useful or useless. But right now, I can't. I can feel something blocking me from doing that. Itachi was 100% right about tension and tightness in the air. Don't tell me you people can't feel that shit."

Kakuzu thought about times when he had enjoyed reading a book in solitude. Hmm. I think I understand what he's talking about. There is a certain feeling of peace and lightness. A feeling as if there is nothing that I have to be doing. I definitely don't have that feeling now.

"Yes, I think I can sense it now," Konan said. "I'm quite sure we are in focus."

"What the shit?"

Everyone looked at Hidan. He stared down at his hand, which was still spread flat on the table. "I just got a brief blip of…mindlessness." He blinked. "Did anyone else feel a blip just now?"

Kakuzu and Konan looked at each other. "No," Kakuzu replied.

"Can I say something?" Deidara asked, raising his hand.

"You may," Konan told him.

"Sasori would be a great guy to have here since he knows all about creating stuff. Since he's not here, I'm trying to imagine what he would say, how he'd think, yeah." Deidara cleared his throat. "He'd have no problem seeing this all as like a book or show. He'd say that, even when the camera is on a certain scene, it moves around to different parts of that scene. So it's like there are two focuses: the general scene that the camera's on, and the parts of it that get highlighted. Focus and microfocus. Maybe Hidan just moved out of microfocus."

Original Nagato cleared his throat. "Before we respond to what Deidara has said, his words will need clarification."

"I can explain," Kakuzu said. "You understand theater, right?" The originals nodded. "A play can be supposedly set in a town, but the props and everything on the stage will only represent one small location at a time. A rooftop, a garden, a certain house." They nodded again. "That's what Deidara just called the general scene, the big focus. Now, in this world, we've developed technology that allows us to take plays to a whole other level. Instead of having a big broad stage that the audience looks at with their own eyes, movies can have sets of any shape in any location. A camera looks at the set, and the audience looks at what the camera records. So the set isn't actually being seen with human eyes."

"It sounds so strange and unnatural," Original Yahiko muttered.

"Well, it allows you to pull off interesting effects that couldn't happen in a play. A camera sees approximately what a pair of human eyes would see if they looked straight ahead. But it can't move side to side the way human eyes can, and since it's just a machine with no sense of curiosity it doesn't look around. In a movie, you can have scenes where the camera looks at one side of the room where characters are doing something entertaining. Having a big fight, perhaps. Then the camera swings slowly to the other side of the room to reveal that another character has been watching the fight this whole time with a bowl of popcorn in his lap. That's what Deidara just called the microfocus. The popcorn eater was in the scene, but he wasn't on camera until the camera turned to look at him." Kakuzu remembered an obscure bit of animal trivia Hidan had told him once. "You can substitute 'camera' for 'owl,' if you want. Owls work the same way."

Understanding flashed across the originals' faces. They looked at each other. "That is an unexpected factor," Original Nagato said.

"Hidan is especially attuned to the signals Itachi describes. The rest of us cannot realistically hope to detect shifts in microfocus," Konan said. "But it does mean that group members should be instructed to feel for the focus more than once in order to avoid a false negative."

Original Nagato wrote that down. Meanwhile, Original Hidan muttered, "Finally something practical."

"This conversation might be more suited to your interests if you would bother to contribute to it," Kakuzu told him.

"You also have a unique perspective that would be very helpful," Konan added. "By all means, share it."

Original Hidan flicked his tail. "Fine. Why the fuck are we bothering to do this, again? Who gives a shit about some metaphorical owl-device that doesn't even really fucking exist?"

"It is part of the mission we have been assigned," Original Nagato said in a bland monotone.

"So?" Regular Hidan asked. "Just because something's part of a mission doesn't mean it's always good. People should think for themselves."

Konan raised a hand. "Wherever the focus lands, conflict spawns. Learning to detect it can help us anticipate sudden conflict. Tracking it over time might reveal patterns of interest. How active is it in town, for example? Or in the middle of the forest? People wishing to escape from conflict will find that information useful. Lastly, do not forget that all of you originals are on a mission to influence the author. Influencing the group of clones is an important subgoal, but do not forget that your true mission aims a little higher. It would be most efficient for you to concentrate your efforts on times when you are on camera. Those are the only times when you will be able to influence your true target."

"In other words, we the clones are going to perform grunt work for your benefit. You could at least fake gratefulness," Kakuzu muttered.

Original Hidan tsk'ed. "Do I fucking care about some supposed 'higher mission'? No. I don't."

"Missions aren't assigned according to how much you enjoy them," Original Nagato said sternly.

"Hey guys? Sammy has something to say, yeah."

Everyone turned in their chairs to look at Samehada. The shark warbled and flapped her fins against the carpet, then slithered over to the stuffed chair and up the side of it. She lolled her tongue out, chirped at Original Hidan twice, then curled up in the seat of the chair making rumbling sounds that resembled purring.

"Translation?" Konan asked.

Hidan squinted and muttered, "I think she's saying that he has the right idea. Just plain experiencing this story is the right thing for him to be doing." Samehada raised her head and made happy sounds.

"Is Hidan part of our mission or not?" Original Nagato asked. "That is a vitally important question."

"Why?" Regular Hidan asked. "Whether he is or isn't, he's going to do whatever feels right regardless. It doesn't matter what you think."

Original Nagato shot him a displeased look. "You understand many things, but not this."

"Excuse me." Kakuzu leaned sideways in his chair to whisper in Hidan's ear. "It doesn't change what your original does, but it does change whether or not Original Nagato lets him into their bedroom."

Hidan's eyes widened. "Ohhhh. I get it now." He rubbed his chin. Kakuzu returned to a normal sitting position. "I think Other Me is part of your mission, but he's working a totally different angle. The point of this story is to feel better, isn't it? Feeling better means not overthinking shit. It means going with the flow. It means just plain living."

"Is that what Itachi meant?" Original Yahiko asked. "The ultimate goal of this story is to move every character and every setting off camera?"

The room went deathly quiet. "Is that what you're saying, Hidan?" Kakuzu asked quietly.

"I think so," Hidan said with a nod. "Other Sunshine was right earlier. Having something between you and the real world is unnatural. Fictional stories might be nice, and they might be useful tools, but at the end of the day they're not supposed to be there. We're the proverbial bamboo raft that helps you cross the river but weighs you down as you climb the mountain. If everything goes right, we'll get cut loose." A sad look crossed his face. "Then we'll find out what really happens to unwritten stories."

.

A/N: The proverbial story Hidan describes is Buddhist, I believe. Traveling is used as a metaphor for life, and the story is meant to teach listeners that there is no One True Way to happiness. What helps you at one point may hurt you at a later point. Everything depends on your context, on your specific situation. There is no Perfectly Good Thing or Perfectly Bad Thing. Just a bunch of things that might be good or might be bad or might be neither depending on where you are and what you need.

Hmm. One of the big changes that I mentioned in the beginning note on this chapter is that I may or may not continue to put notes on every chapter. I have said before that I stick to my promises, no matter what. But reading that book makes me think about how people growing up in the age of computers are shackled to past versions of themselves in a way that people of the past were not. People ought to be able to change, shouldn't they? You aren't the same person at 50 as you were at 15. Leaving all your past identities behind can be an opportunity for transformation. It can be the opportunity for transformation that I've been searching for all this time.

So perhaps the past versions of myself should be cut loose, no longer be available for the world to know. Perhaps mistakes I made in the past should be erased, at least sometimes. Stories rewritten to be better. Old, cringey author notes rewritten from scratch. It's noble to not want to hide your mistakes, to acknowledge that you once made them. But that doesn't mean I need to carry my mistakes around with me. And even though they aren't mistakes, promises (to me) are extremely binding. Something that binding can be a powerful chain that pulls me forward despite all obstacles, or it can pull me back despite all my struggles. I need to learn how to cut them loose.

Leaving behind past versions of myself is not an easy or simple decision to make. I'm not fully committed to any of the changes listed above. For so long, I've been the only person who didn't abandon me, so my relationship with my past selves is even more complicated than it is for others. I feel so responsible. Can I throw away responsibility? Should I? Isn't it a good thing to be responsible? But what if being responsible to my past selves costs me the ability to be responsible to someone else, and that someone else needs me more?

I don't think this story is going to continue into a sixth year.