Naruto: A Red Eye Hidden by Shadow

by Tatanka4Life

On the fateful night of the Uchiha Massacre, a girl of Uchiha and Nara blood is spared and left with no memories of her past. Now she must walk on the path left by her family to help her build a new future for herself. Her path will be hard, full of struggles and pain, but as long as she has her friends and family at her side she will keep forging ahead, even if it was a drag.

171. Chapter 170: Winter of War

Chapter 170

Winter of War: A Mother's Love, Pure as Fresh Snow

It was finally time to leave the Leaf Village.

Gathered at the gate with her Waterfall allies, Takako stood beside Riku, watching in silence as Yōrō and Kegon finish their formalities with the Seven-Tails jinchūriki and the Uchiha girl.

Takako could not say it was a painful farewell. There were no tears glistening in their eyes, no immense sorrow tightening their chests as they sniffled and sobbed over losing an integral member of their small unit.

She had hardly known Shibuki's student, nor had she sought the favor or friendship of the jinchūriki. There was no reasonable reason to do so. They had little in common, and, frankly, she found her overexcitable nature to be bothersome, contradictory to the calm and reasonable composure necessary for shinobi.

However, there was no intense joy, either, in departing without the Seven-Tails. There was no elation, no one would skip with glee, even were they not shinobi, nor would they exhale a single sigh of relief in leaving Shibuki's student here in the care of the Leaf. She and her comrades all knew what awaited on the path ahead of them.

No, there would be no relief. No elation. Even if they had hated the child, which they did not, they were all too reasonable to be relieved by her absence with what lay ahead. Relief was impossible when you were amputating a piece of yourself, especially when it was your dominant hand.

Takako shifted on her feet. She adjusted her cloak, then draped her braided mohawk over her left shoulder.

Being so close to the Leaf's walls, even as departure was imminent, filled her with discomfort akin to sitting on a bed of needles, and yet the discomfort was almost preferable to their future.

Eyeing the Seven-Tails, the woman pursed her lips. This would be the last time they ever saw her, or so she suspected. The Leaf, she believed wholeheartedly, would do all they could to prevent Shibuki's student from returning to the Waterfall. Whether in peace or war.

A Great Nation wouldn't hand over a military asset like a jinchūriki so easily.

I wish we had never crossed paths, thought Takako. I wish I was still working as a stablehand in the morning and working at the tavern in the evening in your Village, for it would mean the Waterfall had maintained its neutrality. It would mean the Stone had never invaded in the first place, forcing our world once more into yet another unreasonable war.

If we had never crossed paths, thought Takako, the Waterfall would still be safe. I would have never picked up my weapons again. I would have left shinobi life and its unreasonable nature far behind me, in another life—a past life I would never return to.

The former Sound shinobi's eyes flitted to the Uchiha girl. She was another she felt neither sorrow nor joy in leaving behind them.

There was no doubt they owed their lives to the child, the Crows, and the Anbu agent likely shadowing her at this very moment. Takako was grateful to be alive. She was grateful her comrades had survived as well.

All the same, they were not friends. They were forced to work together to survive—nothing more, nothing less. They had come to understand one another a little better, however that understanding was tenuous. A wooden spoon could sever it. For their understanding did not erase their history. It did not wash away their true feelings.

The Uchiha girl did not like her. Could not like her. And she felt the same.

The sooner they parted ways, the better.

"Don't inconvenience the Leaf, Fū," Yōrō reminded.

"I know, I know. You guys don't need to worry about me. I'll train super hard and get even stronger so I can help you take back the Waterfall," she promised. "Just stay alive until then, okay?"

"We'll do what we can to gather our comrades. Amaririsu, thank you again for all of your help," Kegon said.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more," the Uchiha girl apologized sincerely.

"You did enough."

"When the day comes to free the Waterfall, I'll do everything in my power to be there to help you retake your Nation. For Shibuki and your people."

Yōrō nodded. "Until then, we leave Fū in your care."

"I'll keep her safe. Take care of yourselves. Hopefully," she said, onyx eye glancing to Takako and Riku briefly, "we can meet under better circumstances next time."

Takako didn't flinch beneath her gaze. She blinked and said nothing, well aware of the silent warning she'd been given.

I hope we never meet again.

"With luck, we'll have already retaken the Waterfall when we meet again," Kegon said.

"Oh, I know!" Fū turned to the Uchiha, struck by a sudden thought. "I can give you a tour of the Village next time! After we take it back, obviously."

"Sounds like a plan," the Uchiha smiled.

Yōrō and Kegon bowed their heads and bid their farewells. In silence Takako and Riku followed them as they leapt off into the trees.

Together their small unit departed on a path towards an unreasonable war, where they would be faced with a high certainty of death at every moment.

Yet, despite its unreasonable nature, Takako would fight all the same. The Stone could not be allowed to succeed. If they did, there would be nowhere for her to run, nowhere to return to. No place to call home.

The only reasonable path now was to fight back.

Fight and hope a reasonable conclusion awaited at the end.

---

"Do you think Shibuki will like these flowers?" Fū asked quietly, lips flattened together. "I never asked him what sort of flowers he liked. I wonder which was his favorite, or if he had a favorite, or if he was like me.

"I like all sorts of flowers. Red ones, white ones, yellow ones, those blooms on cactuses, too; I don't really know any of the names. No one ever taught me. But if he had told me the name of his favorite flower, I would've remembered it. Even if it was super tough to say. Friends are supposed to remember those things."

If only she had asked. If only the question had occurred to her before he was gone. If only he hadn't been killed, then she wouldn't have to worry about it at all; she would've been able to ask him all the other questions she still had. Questions he would never be able to answer now.

"They're flowers from you. He'll love them," Amari said.

"I hope so. I'd hate if he was allergic to these or something."

Kneeling in the grass, Fū brushed her finger along the delicate white and yellow petals of the flowers Amari helped her pick out. They were pretty in spite of the gloom she felt. A hint of color and life to join the cold, grey headstone she knelt before, which bore the name of her friend and the symbol of the Waterfall Village.

This little stone, this cold, grey, joyless and inert piece of rock was the only physical sign he ever existed now. It was a marker far too small for someone as beloved as Shibuki.

He deserved more, Fū believed. Shibuki deserved better. There should've been a Village-wide gathering to celebrate his life and mourn his passing.

Yet…there wouldn't be. Not anytime soon. Not in the Leaf and not while the Stone held the Land Shibuki cherished in their greedy and calloused hands.

Today, here at his tiny, dull little marker in a foreign Village, it was only her, Amari, and Chōmei. It would be a quiet affair. There would be no celebration of life, there would only be grieving and a sense of loss. An absence where a joyful life should've been. A sense that this stone was all too ordinary and too small for someone as kind and amazing as Shibuki was.

In a way, though, the humble nature of his headstone matched Shibuki perfectly. Ceremonies weren't his style at all. He would've been totally embarrassed by all of the attention.

"What will happen to him?" Fū asked quietly, half-lidded eyes locked on the petals.

"The Leaf will preserve his remains in a secure location," Amari answered in a soft voice, as if speaking too loudly might disturb the fallen from their eternal rest.

"When the Waterfall is free and independent once again, we'll transfer his body into the Waterfall's possession so Shibuki can be given a proper funeral by your Land's customs, that way he may finally be laid to rest in the Land he loved. You will likely be in charge of those arrangements, since you were his student."

Fū nodded silently. She was sure Shibuki would have appreciated that. She did. Knowing he'd one day get a proper funeral…it was something. It wasn't what she wanted, of course. It wasn't what the people of the Waterfall would want most; they would want Shibuki to come home alive and well, just like she did.

Still, at least his remains wouldn't be desecrated. At least Amari had managed to preserve his body, unlike the countless others who wouldn't even have something as humble as this little headstone.

"As for his soul," Amari continued without prompting, "he's crossed through The Beyond into The Pure Lands by now. I wonder if she guided him there," she wondered softly, "or if she finally entered The Pure Lands for the last time…"

Fū felt Chōmei stir in surprise. Curious by his reaction, she turned her head to look at Amari, who was standing just behind her left shoulder.

The Leaf kunoichi wasn't looking at her. Her eye was drawn to the sky, as though peering into the heavens themselves, an aura of serenity rolling off her like calm waves lapping against the shore.

"The Beyond and Pure Lands?" Fū repeated the strange words. "Are those the heavens in the Leaf?"

"No," Chōmei answered before Amari could. "Those are ancient names I have not heard for more than a century."

"Not quite," Amari replied a moment later, meeting Fū's gaze. "It's sort of a long story. Where Shibuki is now, though, is a place without war, conflict, hate, or pain. It's a place where there is only peace, comfort, and warmth. His soul has finally returned home, as will ours someday, that I know for certain."

"Oh. Well," Fū looked down at the headstone, forcing a smile onto her lips, "I'm happy he's somewhere nice at least. It sounds super peaceful, he'll like that. He'll have to wait a while for me, though. I'm not dying anytime soon."

"You don't have to do that, you know."

"Do what?"

"Pretend that it doesn't hurt."

Fū paused. She considered denying it altogether. She considered playing dumb and proclaiming she wasn't hurting that badly. She considered claiming she'd been hurt a lot worse than this before, but…it would've been difficult. It demanded strength the Waterfall kunoichi just didn't have today.

Amari would've seen through the dumb act and lies, anyway. She wasn't like a lot of people back in the Waterfall.

Amari could actually see her. Just like Shibuki.

Fū's smile faltered, then fell. Her expression didn't darken, truly. Instead all of the emotion drained away, becoming almost blank, save for the glistening of her eyes, stinging like bees, and the slight tremble of her lips.

"I…I want you to know I'm super grateful to you and Miss Kurenai. I'm so happy I've been able to meet you and Karin and Naruto and everyone else," Fū began, voice wavering slightly. "I've already made a ton of friends because of you. I can't wait to meet more people. I can't wait to get to know you and the others better… Honestly, it seems wrong how happy I've been lately," she admitted reluctantly.

Amari knelt down beside her. "There's nothing wrong with feeling happy, Fū."

"Isn't there?" she asked, voice as quiet as a whisper. "Kegon, Yōrō, Takako and Riku are going back to fight for the Waterfall, they're going right into the thick of this war, and I'm…"

Her eyes fell. "And I'm hanging out with friends, making new friends, smiling like nothing's happened. I'm laughing and feeling happy like Shibuki's still alive. Like there aren't a bunch of creeps and traitors crawling all over the Village he loved. Like they aren't hurting the people he cared so much about. It doesn't seem very fair for me to be happy."

"You may be right," Amari said, speaking softly, eye falling onto Shibuki's humble headstone.

"It may not be fair to those people," she said. "It may very well be unfair to those that are fighting now, who walk through darkness, buying us time to blaze a trail straight to them, that we smile and laugh while they suffer. While the world suffers."

Amari looked at her, eye soft and expression thoughtful.

"But how else are we supposed to live?" she asked. "Should we live our every moment burdened by acts of savagery and pointless death we cannot control? Are we meant to let the light in our hearts die in the name of this fairness? Should we become shells of ourselves, filled with nothing except pain, sorrow, and despair?"

"I don't know. I mean, I understand what you're saying; I'm not sure I could live being sad all the time. But it…it feels wrong, I guess." She struggled to find the right words. To express this awful feeling in her chest. "So many people are hurting right now. They're losing a whole lot. And Shibuki…" Fū shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Now that he's gone, it just feels like I shouldn't happy at all."

"And if you were to be miserable everyday until the wars end, would that ease all of the pains and hurts?" Amari asked but not unkindly. "Would it make their lives better knowing you suffered, too? Would that balance the scales and achieve fairness?"

"…No…"

"Your soul is pure, Fū. But feeling like you shouldn't be happy isn't fair, either. It isn't fair to you," her friend emphasized.

"What do you mean?"

"It's not like you didn't lose anything. It's not like you aren't suffering. You are, even when you try to pretend you aren't," she pointed out gently. "Everyday, even when you smile, laugh, and feel happy, you're still feeling his absence. You're still in pain. I know the signs, you know. I've been there."

Fū said nothing. She couldn't find any words to say, which was so unlike her. But that was the problem with trying to pretend around Amari.

Even without the Sharingan, Amari could see right through her. It was sort of frustrating. Mostly, though, it was relieving.

"You and I, our ships may be different, our journeys to this point aren't identical, but we're sailing on the same churning black sea of grief and loss," she said. "We're still trying to find our way out of the typhoon onto calm seas again.

"In spite of the pain you feel, though, you're still searching for goodness in the world. You're still attacking it with your curiosity and your pureness, searching for the smallest flicker of light you can find while surrounded by absolute darkness. That's a good thing, Fū."

"Is it?" she asked genuinely. "I just… I don't know…" she trailed off.

"Then ask yourself this: Would Shibuki want you to stop laughing? To stop smiling? Would he want you to suffer everyday? Would he want you to stop feeling joy, to stop making friends, to stop living and become someone other than the pure-hearted, precious person he cherished in the name of fairness?"

"Follow your heart," Shibuki's voice came to her. "Make friends. Live and be happy. That's my final wish for you."

Fū shook her head, then sniffled. "No. It's just…"

"No matter what happens, stay true to yourself, Fū. Never stop moving forward."

She shut her eyes. It didn't stop the warm tears from streaming down her cheeks.

"I know you're right. I know this world isn't fair at all and being sad won't change anything. And I'm trying. I'm trying to keep moving forward like he asked. I am," she croaked. "I'm trying really hard to do that. But I… I miss him!"

The words rushed out of her in a breathless sob as she buried her eyes into the cuffs of her sleeves.

She felt Amari's arm wrap around her shoulders, then she gently pulled the Waterfall kunoichi closer, holding her as she cried, sobbed and sniffled and heaved, rubbing gentle circles along her back.

"What you're feeling right now is natural," Amari explained in a soft and quiet voice, threading her fingers gently through her mint hair. "Don't stuff it all down into the recesses of your heart. You'll self-destruct if you do. You have to let yourself feel it. You have to let yourself grieve in order to heal."

Fū whimpered and heaved another agony filled sob.

Could anyone ever heal from something this painful? Losing Shibuki unsettled her belly and sometimes made food the last thing she wanted, and she loved food, especially Kurenai's cooking. Other times she felt so sad she wanted to eat until her heart stopped hurting and her bloated belly ached instead.

She tried to be excited to learn about and explore the Leaf Village—and she was. Yet it was all so strange and foreign. Nothing about it matched the home she'd known for so long.

Things were missing. Like the big tree the Village was built around, the waterfall it was named for; the architecture was different, too. She even sort of missed the looks of suspicion and dark gazes of the villagers.

Now nobody knew her. Strangers didn't seem upset to see her in the streets with Amari and Karin, they didn't look at her like she was an insect that had flown into their home to frighten, disturb, and terrorize them.

It was strange. Good, of course. But none of it fit together. None of it was familiar, and now she could no longer ask Shibuki questions.

She just wanted him back. More than anything else, she wanted Shibuki to walk into the Leaf, into Amari's home, and yell "surprise!"

And what a surprise it would be. She would be angry for pulling such a mean prank, especially if he appeared here at his headstone, but she would've jumped up, hugged him, punched him, then hugged him until he turned blue.

Knowing he never would made it hurt more.

Leaning into Amari, all Fū could do now was cry. Grieve in the hopes it might heal.

Could it, though? Fū wanted to ask Shibuki because she didn't have a clue. She'd never lost anyone before. She'd never had anyone to lose, no one except Shibuki and Chōmei.

Amari had, though. She'd lost people. She was still hurt, the Uchiha had admitted as much.

So, did the existence of hurt mean she hadn't fully healed yet? Could a pain like this actually heal? Shibuki would've known. He had lost his father, after all. But maybe she didn't need to ask. Maybe she needed to look at her mentor and new best friend to learn the truth.

Because despite their experiences with loss, despite their hurt, Shibuki and Amari were happy and kind and awesome people. They weren't mopey at all. They weren't broken like she felt right now.

So… Maybe it got easier? Maybe it would scab over? Maybe it would become a scar or something?

Fū didn't know. It hurt too much. She couldn't stop the fresh, throbbing wound from vomiting up all the blood her broken heart pumped. She couldn't stop crying.

Yet she didn't have to face it alone. Amari, the person Shibuki trusted to take care of her in his final moments, was a bastion of solid ground. She hadn't stopped giving her and Karin maximum effort since they entered the Leaf, even when she had problems and responsibilities of her own.

"Shibuki always possessed a keen insight for the essence of a person," Chōmei said.

Yeah. Fū hugged Amari a little tighter. He really did.

The girl who was holding and comforting her hadn't sent a Shadow Clone to babysit her; Amari came in person, because it was important to Fū, and it was important to her as well.

"A piece of Shibuki's Will resides in me now," she had said. "It's a small piece, nowhere near as big as the pieces he left with you and his people. But I'll always hold that piece close to my heart. I'll always remember Shibuki."

It took Fū time to pull herself together. When she did, she wiped away the tears on her red streaked cheeks and said,

"I'm sorry about that."

"You don't need to apologize for anything."

"I got snot and tears all on your shirt, though."

"It's just a shirt. It'll come out in the wash," Amari reassured, hand rubbing along her back and, at times, her shoulder.

"I miss him."

"I know. I wish I could say that it goes away. But it doesn't," she shook her head lightly. Then turned her head to look at Shibuki's headstone."We'll always miss the people we loved. I think we'll always feel like there's something missing, like there is a hole in our hearts. It's the price we pay to feel love and joy with those we cherish most.

"However, we can't lose ourselves to that pain. We can't kill our hearts and become cold. Because no matter how painful it feels, the bonds we made with the people we love are more precious than anything. The laughter and smiles we shared, the joy we felt together, our love and the memories we made are worth any pain. I wouldn't give up a single moment with Shisui. I wouldn't want to live a life never knowing my big brother."

"I wouldn't want to live a life never knowing Shibuki, either," Fū agreed. "He was awesome."

"Our bonds will always connect us to the people we love, no matter how far apart we may be. Even in death they'll always be with us."

Amari looked at Fū, hand resting gently on the center of her back.

"You will always be connected to him, and he will always be with you. His Will—the very best of Shibuki—lives on within you, Fū. Never doubt that."

Fū shut her eyes against tears, her throat tightened and constricted. She nodded rapidly, then hugged Amari as tightly as she could. Amari embraced her in return.

"Will you tell me that long story later?" Fū asked through sniffles.

"Of course. It's pretty crazy, though."

"It sure sounds that way," she giggled brokenly but sincerely.

"Wait until you hear about the time-space accident."

"The what?"

"Hm." She sensed Amari's smile. "It's sort of a long story."

"Will you tell me that one, too?"

"Of course."

Fū squeezed Amari a little tighter and smiled through her tears.

She couldn't wait to hear about it.

---

Naruto exhaled a satisfied sigh as he put aside his finished bento box.

After two straight hours of some of the toughest training he'd ever experienced with the Pervy Sage, finally having a moment to rest and fill his stomach felt so good, like he'd just won a lifetime of free ramen at Ichiraku's.

It felt like he'd been sweating his butt off and getting it kicked in taijutsu training all day. And that was all on top of using five Shadow Clones to try to strengthen his Wind Chakra, another to work on countering genjutsu, by Pervy Sage's orders, and another he had trying to figure out the Adamantine Chains.

Leaning back on his hands, the shinobi tilted his head back and shut his eyes. That it felt like a cool spring day made it a little less harsh, he supposed. Better than training when it was freezing out, or when he'd sweat bullets on the hottest days in the summer.

Better than all of that, he thought, it's like Pervy Sage is actually taking my training serious for once. He hasn't gone off to peep or anything. Although, it'd be hard to peep on anyone out here. I don't think anyone but animals come out this way.

The Pervy Sage had taken him to a secluded area outside the walls of the Leaf, but within the boundaries of the barrier, where they could run all sorts of drills along the open fields, at the nearby waterfall and the lake it poured into, and along the craggy cliffs.

He thought for sure there'd be some sort of bush his Master plotted to duck behind and get up to his usual antics. He would've bet his entire wallet on it. Fortunately he hadn't, because he would've ended up flat broke.

It's just been drill after drill after drill. Not that I'm complaining. Usually I'm all on my own while he's off giggling like an idiot about naked women.

It wasn't like he didn't understand the attractiveness of women. It wasn't like he hadn't giggled like a schoolboy when he peeped at the adult section of magazines. He felt all sorts of stirrings and other stuff about girls and women, but he wasn't an old geezer spying on naked ladies in the bathhouses.

And he didn't go around ogling women when he was supposed to be training his student, you know!

So for the Pervy Sage to switch gears and suddenly take his training seriously, it was sort of bizarre. Awesome and appreciated, but it pinged Naruto's suspicions. It formed a hunch on the cause, which inevitably led him to the obvious conclusion.

He's preparing me for the war.

Naruto lowered his chin into a neutral position and opened his eyes. His Master sat across from him, legs crossed, eyes shut, meditating, it seemed. Utilizing what time they had to rest before they began again, he assumed. Or maybe he was focusing on some other sort of training.

Amari had taught him about meditation and its importance for building up spiritual energy, which would strengthen and build up more chakra over time. So maybe that was it.

Pursing his lips, the young boy felt an anxious gnawing in his gut. The war has started. It's almost unbelievable, but I saw it. Or a small part of it, anyway. Plus the Foundation leader tried to make a move on Fū.

That's why his Master wasn't rushing off to do his research or investigate someplace else. That's why he was here, drilling him over and over and over again in a way he never had before.

He needed to be here to protect Fū. He needed to be here to prepare him for the Akatsuki and the war, a sort of pre-training to their eventual departure from the Leaf to train on the road.

Still, now more than before he hated the idea of leaving. He hated the idea that his friends and comrades would be fighting in the war while he was somewhere else, likely far, far away from it since the Stone were employing the Akatsuki as mercenaries.

He didn't want the war to happen. He didn't really want to fight in a war, either, but he wanted to at least be with his team, fighting to protect them.

Karin and Fū were still fresh in the Leaf, too. What if he had to leave sooner than he thought? He wouldn't be around to help Karin at all. And Fū…

"Hey, Pervy Sage."

"What is it, Naruto?"

"I was just wondering, what's going to happen to Fū when we leave?"

"Mm." His Master opened his eyes. "Considering the Foundation's interest in the Seven-Tails, and the present danger their interest places not only on Fū, but on Amaririsu as well, Tsunade and I have decided she'll be traveling with us."

"Wait, with us?" he repeated, shocked.

Jiraiya cocked an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all," Naruto shook his head. "Honestly, I wouldn't mind having Fū as a training partner, and I could probably learn a lot from her. But… Has anyone bothered to tell her about this yet? I mean, she's just lost her home, her Master, and is super connected to Amari. Thinking of how I felt when I learned I'd have to leave, she'll probably flip out if you just drop it in her lap the day of."

Heck, even if you give her warning she'll probably flip out, he considered. Not that I blame her or don't understand.

"Don't worry. I intend to speak with her and Amaririsu tomorrow," Jiraiya informed. "It would be too cruel to discuss it today."

"Huh? How come?"

"Shibuki's headstone is finally in place. Amaririsu and Fū are likely there now, mourning his tragic loss."

Naruto winced. "Oh… Right."

He hoped Fū would be all right. Or as all right as anyone could be after losing someone precious. Amari, too. She did her best to hide it, but the loss of Shibuki and the Crows weighed on her. He just…didn't have the power to lift that burden off her shoulders.

No one did.

"Anyway, before we begin training again, I recall you wanted to know about a certain girl from the Fūma Clan," Jiraiya teased, effortlessly changing the subject and his tone.

He brightened. "How is Sasame?"

"So eager! I can't say I'm surprised," his Master grinned. "I remember being your age."

Cheeks flushing, Naruto crossed his arms and grunted. "Quit it."

"Well, you'll be happy to know Sasame was just as eager to give me a message for all of you. She wants you all to stay safe and do your best to keep getting stronger; she's training harder than ever, I hear, so she can one day lead the Fūma Clan, as promised. She's been looking after the kids, Manzo and Daisuke with Hanzaki."

"Awesome!" Naruto smiled. "Sasame has sure taken on a lot of responsibilities since we left. She'll definitely lead her Clan someday, I just know it. I'll have to tell Mimi, Aoko, and Sakura about that. They'll be psyched to hear how she's doing."

"I bet they will be. Sasame also wanted me to tell you she still wants to see you again. She's holding you to that promise."

"Yeah? Hehe!" Cheeks rosy and warm, Naruto rubbed the back of his head, feeling as awkward as he had after she kissed him on the cheek. "Well, you know me, Pervy Sage. I never go back on my word once I give it, so I'll make sure we see each other again."

He dropped his hand, eyes going wide as a thought occurred to him. "Oh, but what about Daisuke, Manzo, and the kids? I know you said she's looking after them with Hanzaki, but when we left Manzo was still recovering from the attack. And Daisuke, did he…"

Naruto paused briefly, uncertainty twisting in his chest and stomach. Daisuke had been in such bad shape when they last saw him. They weren't even certain he'd ever wake up again, but…he had to wake up, right?

"Did he come around?" he asked hesitantly.

"Mm," Jiraiya nodded, but Naruto didn't feel relief. Not when his Master's lips flattened into a grim expression. "Daisuke did regain consciousness. However, the loss of his fingers, in addition to his other wounds, has caused him a great deal of daily physical and phantom pain."

"Phantom pain?" Naruto repeated. "Wait, that's that thing when you feel your missing limb still or something, right?"

"Yes, it is. I can't explain precisely what causes it; you would need to ask Tsunade or another doctor for real details. From what I gather it has something to do with the nervous system. Some manner of signal mix-up."

Jiraiya frowned. "Regardless of how, Daisuke can still feel his missing fingers, despite their absence. He feels residual pain daily. Some moments it aches, sometimes its just mild tingling or it feels like his fingers are caught in a vise, like the pincer blades Kamikiri used to amputate them. He compares the worst moments to grabbing a searing hot coal, but being unable to release it."

"O- oh…" Naruto slouched as his heart sank. Daisuke…

"My scarred body is a record of all that I had…and all that I lost," he recalled Daisuke's soft-spoken recounting of his experience with war. "Biscuit, Scotch, Manzo and all the children, they made it better. Made me better. They helped me repair the broken pieces of myself and gave me a life worth living."

Now he had more scars. More pains added to that long record. But…

"But at least he's alive, right?" Naruto tried to be optimistic, despite his low and nearly defeated voice. "That means he has a chance to recover. He has a chance to stand again and keep doing his best for the kids. I mean, I don't know," he stumbled. "He's endured a whole lot already. He's a strong guy, you know. He'll… He'll be all right, don't you think, Pervy Sage?"

"Daisuke is a strong young man," Jiraiya replied earnestly. "He's resilient and driven in spite of many misfortunes and tragedy. I don't believe this injury has changed that. Although it will likely be months before he makes a full recovery."

"But he will recover. That's what matters," Naruto decided, feeling a bit more confident in his optimism. "Daisuke will get better. He'll keep doing his best for other's. There's no doubt about it. That's the kind of guy he is."

"Well said."

"What about that lady? Kotohime, right?"

"Kotohime's situation is…" Jiraiya shut his eyes and exhaled a heavy breath. "All we can do is hope time will dull that wound."

Naruto lowered his eyes and didn't say a word for a long moment.

"Did you find anything out about Orochimaru?" he asked when he found his voice again.

"I did," Jiraiya confirmed, nodding once. "More than I can share in a single conversation. There will be plenty to investigate going forward and likely many dead ends. However, I can say his obsession with immortality, Curse Marks, creating hybrids of man and beast, and the Reanimation Jutsu are as potent as ever. We'll see more of all four as the Leaf hunts him down, I'm certain of it."

"Great," Naruto sighed.

He wasn't looking forward to that in the least. Definitely not after seeing the Reanimation Jutsu so intimately with Granny Mito.

"But that's enough talk of trauma and our enemies for one afternoon," Jiraiya said. "Isn't there someone else you're curious about?"

Naruto nodded, excited. Finally he could get some answers about his mom.

"That's right! I was totally working my way to asking you about her. Granny Tsunade told me you would know more about my mom than anyone else. I was kinda surprised. I thought for sure it was because you peeped on her or something, but—"

"Pe- Peep?! On Kushina?! No!" Jiraiya's face drained of color. He then shook his head rapidly. "I never did anything of the sort! No way! Do you know what Kushina would've done if she ever caught me doing my research? If she was even in the area, or if your father caught me…"

His Master shuddered.

Naruto perked up a little. Wait, Pervy Sage knew my dad, too? Well, I guess that makes sense. If he knew my mom, he'd have to know who my dad was.

"Geez, Pervy Sage. I don't think I've ever seen you so pale before. Was my mom really that scary?"

"You have no idea." Jiraiya shuddered and shook again, as if trying to shake off a terrible memory.

I'm not sure if I think its awesome my mom was scary and strong enough to frighten Pervy Sage, he thought, sweat dropping, or if I should actually be terrified of her as well.

What would she have done to him for sneaking peeks at the adult magazines he studied? Would she have punished him for creating the Sexy Jutsu? What sort of hell would he have endured for that time he snuck into the bathhouse with Konohamaru?

Would his mom be scarier than a furious Amari? Was that even possible?

Taking in his Master's pale, traumatized and petrified appearance, Naruto felt a strange, cold sensation build at the nape of his neck. He swore he heard someone cracking their knuckles.

He shuddered involuntarily.

Yeah. It was definitely possible.

"An- anyway," he stammered, "what can you tell me about my mom, Pervy Sage?"

"Well, what would you like to know?"

"Everything you can tell me, of course. Like what was she like as an adult? Granny Mito already filled me in on how she was as a kid and her dream to become Hokage, so what kind of person did she grow up into?

"Do you know what kind of shinobi she was? Like was my mom super tough and smart like Granny Mito? Oh, do you know how she handled being a jinchūriki? Also did the Fourth Hokage happen to be stronger and more popular than she was, I'm kinda thinking that's why she didn't become Hokage instead. Do you think she would've been the Fifth if she had lived longer? Assuming Amari's dad didn't take on the role, obviously; I remember you telling me how popular, powerful, and wise he was."

"Whoa, whoa, slow down, kid," Jiraiya raised his hands like he was trying to coax a horse down from rearing up. "I won't be able to answer anything if you don't stop to breathe at this rate."

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized bashfully. "I've had so much time to think about it now. Ever since Granny Mito told me about her I've been wrestling with what to ask and how to ask it."

It was because of Granny Mito he finally had confirmation on a question he'd always wondered, sort of knew, and feared being wrong about:

Had his mother loved him?

Knowing the truth, well, it made him feel all sorts of emotions. He was super happy about it. He was devastated she wasn't around anymore, that he hadn't actually gotten to know her or experience her love, even if it was always with him. Like Shisui and Amari's parents love were always with her. But now…

"I just want to know everything I can about her," Naruto said. "Can you blame me?" he added with a slight shrug. "Lord Third never told me anything about my parents. I've lived my whole life wondering who my parents were; I didn't know anyone besides Lord Third actually knew them, you know. I wondered if they even loved me or if they just abandoned me. Everyone else hated me, you know. So it was possible they did, too, right?"

"Your parents loved you dearly, Naruto," Jiraiya stated.

"I know." He shook his head. "I mean I know that now. Well, I mean I knew that my mom did thanks to Granny Mito. I'm glad my dad did, too, so I appreciate you telling me that. Gah!" He gripped his head. "I'm totally lost now. My brain feels all scrambled. I don't know where to start or what to say."

Jiraiya lifted his hand in a silent gesture to halt. "Calm down, Naruto. I'll start by answering your original questions, so try not to interrupt. "

He saluted. "You got it, Pervy Sage."

"All right. So what was Kushina like as an adult, huh?" Jiraiya considered.

"Hmm. Well, in some ways your mother didn't change much from childhood to adulthood. She was still as headstrong as ever; no one ever accused Kushina of being weak-willed, at least no one who truly knew her. She was also easily excitable like you. Not to mention maintaining that quick temper of hers.

"Still, despite her fiery temper and experiences as a child, Kushina matured into a compassionate and gentle woman. She also possessed plenty of sass," he added with a short chuckle, clearly remembering something she had said.

"You could say she was the kind of person who not only acted on her heart, but wore it on her sleeve. She was true to herself in that way. I'd even say she was more cheerful as an adult, too. The fears and insecurities she once held as a foreigner and a jinchūriki no longer weighed heavily on her soul."

"Really? What lifted that burden for her?" Naruto asked curiously.

"She was in love, of course," Jiraiya replied as if it were obvious. "The story is almost too good to be true. A handsome young classmate sweeps in to rescue the captured maiden from an attempted kidnapping? Talk about a cliché. Heh, if I wrote anything like that I'd be called a hack," he added with an amused and dismissive wave of his hand, smiling.

Naruto's eyes went wide. "Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. Someone tried to kidnap my mom?"

"Not just someone. A whole squad of Cloud shinobi managed to kidnap Kushina when she was a fresh little Genin," his Master informed. "They were after the Nine-Tails, as you can imagine. And they would've gotten away with it, too, were it not for the meddling of one boy.

"Were you to hear Kushina tell the story, it was her red hair that became the red thread of fate between her and the boy who would become your father."

"Whoa," Naruto exhaled, feeling a sense of awe. "Okay, okay, hold on, before you go any further—man, I don't even know where to start with my questions," he stumbled.

"Um, man, there's a lot there. You've gotta tell me the details of that story someday that way I can tell Amari. She loves romance stories, and the way you're saying it, it's gotta be better than her books.

"But it'll probably take too long and I won't get my other questions answered. So, um, my dad, he was able to take out a whole squad of Cloud shinobi? They had to be top notch shinobi to nearly get away with my mom, right? Which can only mean as a kid my dad was already a totally awesome shinobi!"

"That's one way to put it," Jiraiya smiled a knowing and mysterious smile.

"Is that how my mom and dad met?"

"No. They were classmates in the Academy, actually."

"Oh, right. I forgot you said a classmate. Um, so, was it love at first sight?"

"Hardly!" Jiraiya laughed, waving off the idea. "Your mom thought your father was a total wimp."

Naruto couldn't help the baffled laugh to break from his lips. "Wait, seriously?"

She thought his dad was a total wimp? That sounded pretty harsh.

"Oh yeah. Back then Kushina was such a talkative tomboy, full of fire. Strong and fierce, too. A real bareknuckled brawler. The kids called her the Red-Hot Habanero! She used to beat them half to death—I hear she even beat up full-fledged Genin's before she graduated."

She beat other kids half to death? Even Genin's? Naruto paled. My mom sounds like a terrifying fusion of Mimi, Amari, and Sakura all crammed into one person. And he said her quick temper didn't go away, too, and she probably only got stronger as an adult.

No wonder Pervy Sage is afraid of her.

"By comparison," his Master continued, "your dad was far more reserved. Your mom mistook him as a weakling as a result. It would be hard not to; she was the one everyone is afraid of, and he wasn't one to gloat or boast about his abilities.

"Anyway, it was the day your father saved her that Kushina fell in love with him," Jiraiya explained. "Like Amaririsu for you, he was the first to accept your mom for who she was. He saw Kushina Uzumaki, as opposed to the Nine-Tails jinchūriki. She was head over heels for him. Fortunately for this little romantic tale, your father felt just as strongly for Kushina, which inevitably led to your conception."

"Were they excited to start a family?" Naruto asked.

"Excited? Ha! You're barely scratching the surface there. Your parents were over the moon!" Jiraiya claimed boldly and sincerely. "You were the joy of your parents before you were even born, kid. They could hardly wait for you to join the world, I was afraid I'd have to stop them from yanking you out too early, hahaha!"

Naruto flushed and grimaced. "Oh, c'mon Pervy Sage! What the hell!"

"Hey, I'm just telling you how it is," grinned his Master. "Your parents couldn't wait to meet you. From what I saw, your parents possessed strong parental and maternal instincts. Kushina especially. She predicted you to the letter."

"What's that even mean?"

"Your gender, your personality—everything. Kushina predicted exactly how you'd turn out while you were still in the womb."

"Really? That's pretty awesome, Pervy Sage."

"You bet it is. Honestly, kid, you inherited a lot of your personality and ninjutsu style from Kushina. Including that reckless temper of yours."

"Geez," Naruto frowned. "You make that sound like a bad thing."

"Jury's still out on that one, kid," he teased.

Naruto crossed his arms, turned his head away, and grunted, fighting to keep his frown in place to feign frustration and annoyance at the teasing of his Master. It didn't last. How could it?

His parents were excited to meet him. They were over the moon over having him in their lives. Even before he was born, before they knew how he would turn out, they loved him.

How cool was that?

Naruto could feel a smile trying to break through. Overwhelmed, he was on the verge of squirming in place, he almost wanted to burst into a silly dance or something, he wanted to just laugh and grin and just feel all these new and strange feelings he had.

It was then, as he was restraining how giddy he felt, a dark thought took shape in the back of his mind. He furrowed his brow and pursed his lips, staring pensively at the ground.

Everything he'd learned so far was just basic stuff about his parents. They were things he'd always wanted to know, things that were totally harmless.

So…why had Lord Third kept it from him? It just didn't make any sense. Why withhold any of the stuff the Pervy Sage and Granny Mito shared with him?

I don't get it, he thought. Why couldn't the Old Man just tell me they loved me? He could have told me they wanted to meet me, that they loved me from the moment I was conceived. Where's the harm in saying any of that?

It didn't make any sense. None at all. Sure, knowing this stuff made him wish they were alive even more, but he'd always wished they were around. Just seeing kids with their parents after classes were over back in the Academy, or when they came to pick them up at the playground, it made him want his parents around.

What kid wouldn't feel that way? What orphan wouldn't wish their parents were around, you know? He'd always wondered why he was alone, who is parents were, and so many other questions.

Yet just knowing how amazing his parents were, even if what he knew now was barely scratching the surface, made him feel so giddy. Just knowing they loved him, that they couldn't wait to meet him… It changed his world. It changed everything.

So why? Why had Lord Third hidden that from him? Why had he told him it didn't matter?

When it did matter.

Naruto shook the dark thought off.

Whatever the reason, it wasn't important anymore. He knew now, that's what mattered.

"All right," he spoke up, uncrossing his arms and looking to his Master again, "so what kind of shinobi was my mom? Was she super strong and cool like my dad?"

"Not at first," his Master answered patiently. "Putting aside her talent for bare-knuckle brawling, as a kid your mother shared your same initial lack of skill in ninjutsu."

"Hey," he groused.

"I said 'initial' didn't I? And that was a self-admitted fault of hers. Besides, you still have plenty room to grow."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Anyway, despite where she started, Kushina's prowess with ninjutsu, once her weakest area, eventually became the talent she was known far and wide for.

"Talented, brave, and very powerful, she would go on to become a high-ranking shinobi, and that's all without taking into account her status as a jinchūriki. Even by her Clan's standards, Kushina's chakra, life-force, and vitality were especially potent."

Jiraiya explained his mother's vast knowledge and talent for fūinjutsu, her powerful Adamantine Chains, and how she could use Water and Wind Style ninjutsu, all of which, to Naruto's mind, made her all the more awesome than he already believed.

She sounded smarter than him, too, but Pervy Sage told him it wasn't always the case.

"Kushina educated herself after leaving the Academy," his Master explained. "It's something you'll have to do as well. It's a difficult thing. However, think of it as training for the mind. You push your body to get stronger, so you'll have to work just as hard to strengthen your mind in order to make up for all those years of goofing off and sleeping in class."

"Right," he resigned to defeat.

Studying totally wasn't his strong suit.

Naruto sighed. Still, it's important. I need to get smarter if I'm going to be Hokage someday. So, whether I like it or not, I'll have to hit the books, too. That's how I'll get to be as cool as my parents were.

"You said before that falling in love with my dad sort of took the burden off her shoulders. I mean from being a jinchūriki," he added. "Did the Village…" He rubbed the back of his neck, pursing his lips. "I don't know how else to say it. Did they stop hating and fearing her, too? Granny Mito was respected and stuff, but she was also caged and restricted for decades, and the stigma of being a jinchūriki was pretty strong back then from what she told us. Even with those restrictions.

"So, how was it for my mom?"

"Hmm. Well, I can only speak as an outsider," Jiraiya admitted. "In the end, only Kushina truly knew how it felt to be a jinchūriki at that time, just as only you truly understand the burden you bear and how others see you.

"However, that being said, your father wasn't the only open-minded person to accept her. Kushina had friends in every major Clan; from the Nara to the Hyūga and the Inuzuka to the Uchiha, your mom found people, like you have, who she could trust as comrades and as friends. She also took the time to mingle with civilians and often went out of her way to help the children of the next generation."

"She sounds pretty friendly, actually."

Not at all like the scary woman the Pervy Sage often painted her out to be.

"Your mother was a very kind and compassionate woman," Jiraiya nodded. "She was a rare beauty, too, and I mean that in the purest sense as a friend and nothing more. So don't get the wrong idea.

"Of course there were still those who feared her, I'm certain of that."

"Like the Foundation Leader, I'm sure."

"Mm. Yes, I suspect he was among them. Unfortunately, in our current era there will always be people who fear jinchūriki. However, by adulthood, I would say most of the Village didn't see the foreigner and Nine-Tails jinchūriki anymore. They saw Kushina, and since so much time had passed without any incidents involving the Nine-Tails or another Tailed-Beast directly within the Leaf, the fear finally began to wane.

"Those who refused to accept her by that point never would, so it's safe to say Kushina no longer concerned herself with their thoughts. She had her close friends and the love of her life, and eventually a child on the way. She was happy."

Naruto lowered his head but said nothing. His Master watched the strange reaction for a moment, then spoke again.

"Are you all right?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Definitely!" He grinned. "I'm happy, too, ya know. I'm happy she wasn't alone, and that she had friends and people who loved her. I was really worried about her, so knowing she wasn't alone…" He shrugged, grin never leaving his lips. "I don't know, it just makes me feel really good, you know. I'm happy she was able to find good people, too."

"Ah, I see," Jiraiya smiled.

"By the way, why didn't she become Hokage? It was her dream, right?" Horror struck him suddenly. His eyes went wide and his heart stopped. "Wait a minute, I didn't ruin it, did I?"

"No, you didn't. Not even close," Jiraiya reassured, waving off his horror. "You were apart of her dream, Naruto. She would have said the best part of it."

"O- oh. Hehe," he rubbed the back of his head, face flushing, "man I feel all embarrassed now. So, uh, what stopped her from becoming Hokage?"

"To put it simply: Politics."

"Politics?" Naruto made a face.

"The election of the Fourth Hokage was steeped in politics of the Third Great Ninja War. A few different factions were actively vying for the title. Among the primary factions were the Old Man, the Foundation leader, and the Uchiha Clan. The Foundation leader's choice for Hokage was Orochimaru."

"Ugh," Naruto scowled. "Of course he chose that snake of all people."

"The Old Man's choice eventually became the Fourth Hokage. Among the Uchiha Clan the two considered for the title were Fugaku Uchiha and Kiyoshi Uchiha. In a carefully calculated move, however, Kiyoshi did not actively seek the title of Hokage. Instead he supported the Old Man's candidate."

"How come?"

"He recognized what the Village and the world needed from the next Hokage. The war was a long, tiring, and bloody affair. Everyone was tense. Everyone was afraid. With so much pain lingering on, with everyone balancing at the edge of a knife, the next Hokage couldn't just be strong and wise, they couldn't be blinded by their loyalties to their Clan, or hold the same ambitions as the Foundation Leader.

"Whoever would take on the title of Fourth Hokage had to guide us towards healing the wounds left by the war. They had to help lower the temperature and calm the unrest with the Nations we were fighting with, and ease the tension and unrest within our walls.

"Kiyoshi was the right man for the job, in that respect, but he believed it wasn't the right time. After all, he saw what the Foundation Leader and his supporters were up to. He saw how hard they were fighting to keep Fugaku from becoming Hokage."

Jiraiya shook his head. "They wouldn't have let any Uchiha take on the title, least of all one so politically opposed to them. They would have stoked the flames of unrest at a time when the Village needed to cool off, or pulled something extreme."

"Like the Massacre?"

"Yes. But his problems didn't stop there. On the other hand he had the Uchiha Clan; they would have expected Kiyoshi to support them unflinchingly in all matters had he become Hokage, when diplomacy and healing the deep wounds of war requires far more finesse and nuance than that."

"He would've been between a real rock and a hard place, huh?"

"Indeed. Kiyoshi recognized the position he was in and made what could have been the political play of the century, had the Nine-Tails attack never occurred. He would have his hands tied as Hokage, but as a respected war-hero he could help achieve peace for the Leaf and his Clan with more flexibility as a supporter and friend of the Fourth Hokage.

"So he put aside personal ambition and supported the man who would go on to become the Fourth Hokage. In his comrade-in-arms and friend he placed his hopes and faith for the future of the Leaf and the world.

"Both men saw an opportunity to finally bridge the gap between the Uchiha Clan and the Leaf. They saw a chance to settle the unrest. Together, they believed, they could create a future where the Uchiha were no longer our boogeyman, a future where an Uchiha holding the title of Hokage wouldn't be any different than a Hyūga, a Sarutobi, or a Senju."

"Do you think they could've done it?"

"I do," his Master nodded, expression become somewhat grim. "Yes. I believe they could've built that bridge, if fate had been different."

"Well, Amari and I will just have to pick up where they left off." Naruto jabbed his thumb into his chest. "When I'm Hokage, I'll help her change the fate of the Uchiha Clan, just like I'll help Neji and Hinata change the fate of the Hyūga Clan."

Jiraiya smiled and nodded. "Then I suppose I'll just have to train you even harder to ensure you can handle such a burden."

"I'll be ready for it, Pervy Sage. You can bet on that. Oh, wait, but you never finished telling me why my mom didn't become Hokage."

"Right, I was sidetracked there. Well, with Kiyoshi supporting the Third Hokage's candidate, Fugaku actively sought the role with a greater intensity. Failure to obtain it doubtlessly felt like yet another slight to him and the Uchiha Clan.

"In that crowded field, given the political power plays made behind the scenes, Kushina would've needed a miracle to stand a remote chance of winning the election of Hokage. It isn't that she wasn't respected or beloved or suited for the role; you could say her level-headed nature, her maternal instinct, and her compassion made Kushina a great candidate in an era of post-war recovery."

Jiraiya shrugged. "However, like always, politics is a messy and dirty game. Especially at that time. Lots of moves were being made to determine the future of the Leaf."

"It certainly sounds that way."

"Anyway, I think that covers your original questions. I know, I know," he raised his hand to stop Naruto as he tried to interrupt, "you have plenty more questions. I will answer them all in time; I won't withhold anything from you. It's your right to know these things, no matter how difficult they may be.

"Right now, though," Jiraiya grunted as he stood, "we need to get back to your training. We've been resting for far too long."

"All right." He hopped to his feet. "I'm feeling pumped up anyway, so let's get to it, Pervy Sage! Don't hold back!"

"That's the spirit!"

With that, training resumed.

---

Today was the anniversary of their arrival in the Leaf, which made it a special day, like a birthday except different, in Fū's words.

A week had passed since they were granted sanctuary at the Yūhi household. Karin could hardly believe it. Only a week had passed? A meager total of seven days separated her from the hellish existence she'd known for so long and the new life she was gifted?

It didn't seem real. Sometimes she felt uncertain it was real.

Had it truly been a week since two foreigners, Shino Aburame and Naruto Uzumaki, decided to rescue her from certain death? She couldn't decide if it felt longer, far too short, or if it had actually happened at all.

A week? One meager week?

No matter how strange it felt, the truth was inescapable, for Karin had been counting the days ever since—assuming these days were real. She would count every new day she experienced because of Naruto, Shino, Amaririsu, and Kurenai for the rest of her life.

Every day she awoke free would be a special day she marked, a day she felt gratitude to the strangers, now friends, who had risked their lives, their security, who had offered sanctuary, food, and stood against their own Village for a stranger. For her.

Sitting on a picnic blanket, Karin pursed her lips.

The total seemed wrong. Off. Her last memory of teeth sinking into her flesh, breaking the skin as the shinobi—a man who's teeth were unbrushed, who's breath smelled foul—greedily sucked the chakra from her body felt more recent than that. And yet it also felt like another life. Someone else's life.

Had it only been a week since Shino and Naruto gave her the opportunity to live another day? Since Zōsui exerted his control over her?

Had she only known the warmth of the two suns, who's light illuminated each new morning she had been fortunate enough to see since in bright and soothing colors, for a week?

It feels strange, Karin thought. All of this. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, even when I know them all better now. I don't know. I just can't help but feel…out of place. Like this is all a dream. Like I'm going to wake up to Zōsui kicking me awake any moment now.

Karin bent her knees into her chest, then hugged her arms around her legs.

Am I dead? She shut her eyes, and for a moment she could smell the fire and smoke all over again. Did I actually die back in that town? Is any of this real?

A pencil's eraser suddenly tickled the top of her left ear. Karin felt a jolt of shock, then a warm tingle shoot through her body. Her hand snapped to her ear. Her eyes flitted to her left.

Amaririsu's Shadow Clone, seated cross-legged beside her, was lowering her arm, and it appeared she hadn't broken her gaze from whatever notes she was studying.

"You're overthinking again," Amaririsu said gently without looking up.

Heat flushed to Karin's cheeks. She ducked her chin down, trying to hide how embarrassed she felt, to no real avail.

Amaririsu always seemed to know how she felt, what to do to help, and what to say. Like getting out of the house today and into the crisp fresh air beneath a blue sky streaked by thin white clouds.

She'd been overthinking, as Amaririsu put it. The walls felt like they were closing in around her. She felt out of place. Nothing felt right.

None of it felt real.

So, Amaririsu brought her to their current location: a training field where the Leaf kunoichi had six Shadow Clones actively training in differing capacities, while the real Amaririsu performed strength and endurance training.

Lifting her eyes, Karin looked out at the field, gaze first falling upon the real Amaririsu. She had weighted Seals on as she now performed a series of squats after finishing a set of push-ups less than a minute and half ago.

It looked absolutely miserable. Even at a distance she could see the sweat dripping off the poor girl's red face.

There was a jump rope in the grass waiting to be used, Karin noticed. When it would finally be put to work she couldn't say, but she hoped for Amaririsu's sake there was some manner of decent rest between the squats and the jump rope.

Nearby, one of Amaririsu's Shadow Clones stood with her back turned to everyone. One of the Crows made its perch on her shoulder, as at least a dozen others concealed themselves or launched attacks from the trees.

Across the field were two other Shadow Clones. One sat cross-legged, eyes shut, meditating, it appeared. The other balanced on her right foot in a posture called tree while standing upon the surface of a stream, eyes shut and chakra glowing along the sole of her foot.

The fourth Shadow Clone was seated beside Karin, studying notes on a technique she called the Flying Raijin. Karin had glanced at the material but it may as well have been a foreign language.

Finally, the last two Shadow Clone's were in the midst of two different training scenarios. Karin looked to the closest of the two, though still quite the distance away from their safe haven, at the sound of Fū's triumphant cheer.

"Ha! Got you that time!"

Amaririsu's Shadow Clone was sliding back on her heels, arms held up in a guard as Fū, beaming, floated in the air with her leg extended out in a kick. From her lower back a set of insect wings vibrated and fluttered quickly, so quickly Karin couldn't isolate or count a single wing.

Suddenly, while Amaririsu was still sliding, Fū darted through the air like a warrior hornet attacking an invader to its colony. In an instant she was upon the Leaf kunoichi, feinting a head-on attack, only to zip around behind her.

Amaririsu ducked forward. The air whistled beneath Fū's spinning kick. As she scrambled to recover, body still carried by the momentum of her strike, the Uchiha braced her hands on the ground, extended her legs, and, stepping with her hands, rotated quickly, capturing the Waterfall kunoichi's abdomen by locking her ankles and feet behind her back.

Fū immediately attempted to fly away. She didn't sense the chakra Amaririsu channeled as keenly as Karin had in that moment; the Uchiha had her palms firmly connected to the earth via chakra, in addition to flowing chakra to her legs to enhanced their strength and keep Fū's abdomen locked between them as though held between two magnets.

The sudden resistance she met in her retreat startled Fū, like she'd felt her shirt catch on a foreign object and realized it just as the fabric tore. The strain was palpable on Amaririsu's sweaty and rosy face. Yet Fū's momentary panic provided an opening.

Amaririsu spun and slammed the Waterfall kunoichi onto her back, simultaneously flipping herself out of her semi-handstand to mount her sparring partner.

A kunai hissed out of the Uchiha's ninja tool box. Fū blocked Amaririsu's forearm with her own, then disarmed the kunai with surprising skill and finesse for someone so blunt, before managing to slip a leg between them to throw the girl up and over her.

The Uchiha flipped through the air and landed on all-fours with the elegance of a cat; she was breathing heavily, and yet, to Karin's eyes, she seemed to be enjoying herself.

The Waterfall kunoichi sprang to her feet, visibly beaming. Then they launched headlong at one another again, into yet another skillful and agile trading of blows.

Giving them space, and far out of ear-shot, Amaririsu's final Shadow Clone darted to and fro at speeds Karin's naked eye couldn't track.

She could sense the girl's altering position, though even then she struggled to pinpoint her exact location, especially when two afterimages were darting around with her, tricking her mind with visual cues her eyes picked up on.

At the same time, the Anbu agent who had been apart of her rescue chased Amaririsu's Shadow Clone at every point; she was faster than the Clan Head, fast enough to have not just two afterimages of her own, but four total. Karin wondered if she was capable of forming more or if the woman was holding back.

The Anbu agent's sensory abilities were impeccable. Karin struggled to track the pair, yet it was as though the woman could predict where Amaririsu would arrive before even Amaririsu knew it.

To Karin's eye, it seemed the purpose of the training was either to improve Amaririsu's ability with the Body Flicker Technique, or to train the Uchiha to attain a third and fourth afterimage. Or possibly both.

Amaririsu and Fū are both so strong and capable, Karin thought, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin upon them. So are all the other girls I've met. Mimi, Sakura, Ino, Hinata, Tenten—all of them. And the women of the Leaf I've met are even stronger than they are. They're all so confident, too.

Obviously it came from their training. They knew how to handle themselves. They had taken life or death missions and fought all sorts of tough enemies. The Leaf kunoichis had earned their confidence. And their scars.

Being around them, seeing how confident they were, watching Amaririsu and Fū spar and witnessing their unwavering spirits, it sort of made her feel envious. She felt so incapable. So weak. She was weak.

I want… Karin shut her eyes. I want to change.

She wanted to be strong. Strong enough to never be afraid again. Strong enough to never fear another Zōsui. Strong enough to defend herself from the people she needed Amaririsu, the Fifth Hokage, Fū, Naruto, Shino, Kurenai, and so many others to protect her from.

Once I'm at a healthy bodyweight, she promised herself, I'll ask Amaririsu if she can help me get stronger. And then maybe I won't have to be afraid all the time.

Maybe I can become as strong as them.

Maybe.

She hoped to make it true.

Again Karin lifted her gaze and took in her surroundings. She watched the real Amaririsu perform handstand push-ups, appearing to be on the verge of collapse. She observed all the Shadow Clone's at work, from those meditating and training with the Crows, to the Shadow Clone darting about while the other was in the heat of a spar with Fū.

She took in the Waterfall kunoichi's beaming face, Amaririsu's strained expression as sweat dripped off her face, and exhaled a soft, relaxed sigh.

Dead or alive, Karin was grateful to be here with them.

---

Only the tip of the sun had deigned to peek over the horizon when Kakashi and Sasuke entered through the Leaf Village's gates.

All seemed quiet and peaceful. At first glance the Leaf appeared exactly how they left it, if you ignored the sudden flux of refugees, tents, and Leaf shinobi patrolling the refugee camp.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Sasuke said beneath his breath.

"Yeah," Kakashi shared the sentiment.

There were less than a few answers he could think of to explain the presence of refugees beneath their gate. And only one to explain the several Grass Village shinobi among them.

However, beyond the obvious addition of refugees, the Copy Ninja sensed a shift in the aura of their home, a heightened state of alert non-shinobi wouldn't ever feel, but one he felt drifting on the air, like a familiar odor he recognized but couldn't immediately recall the source of.

Security is tighter, he noted, eye flicking around to the nearby shadows. Then, as the gates closed behind them, he turned his head and cast his gaze to the outer wall. He couldn't see anyone at his current angle, but his nose picked up on several scents.

There were more guards on duty.

Has the Stone finally made their move? he wondered. Is that why these people are here?

"Ah, hey, Kakashi. Sasuke." Kakashi half-turned at the call of his name to the check-in station, where Kotetsu and Izumo were seated, the latter of the pair responsible for the greeting.

"Long time no see, you two," Kotetsu followed. "Glad to see you made it back in one piece."

"Hey guys. Been a while," Kakashi replied, strolling over to their station. Sasuke quietly followed. "I see we have several new guests outside our walls. Something happen?"

Kakashi didn't miss how quickly their expressions became grim. It told him plenty.

"You could say that. I'd forgotten how far removed your mission was from the Leaf," Izumo said.

"Oh yeah, that's right," Kotetsu's eyes lit up as a thought struck him. "You two were on the eastern coast, weren't you? Man," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "talk about a hell of welcome back. I assume you haven't heard any news?"

"No," Kakashi answered plainly. He watched Izumo's concerned eyes flick to Sasuke, then to him. Then to Sasuke and back again. "Anything we learned had to do with our mission or was harmless gossip. Izumo, why do you keep glancing between me and Sasuke?"

"Sorry," he apologized, bashful. "I guess I'm worried how you two will react. You've been away on a tough mission for a while now, and what we have to tell you… Little of it is good."

"The Stone finally made their move, huh," Sasuke cut straight to the point. "There's no need to dance around it. We saw the Grass shinobi out there."

"You're right, unfortunately."

"Well, we expected as much." Kakashi shrugged. "I would've preferred the Stone to stay on their side of the border, but I never held much faith in that. We all knew that hope was a long-shot."

"So, we're at war now?" Sasuke wanted to know.

"We are," Izumo nodded grimly. "Worse, the Stone have already captured the Waterfall and the Grass. They managed to do it right under our noses by overthrowing the Waterfall from the inside."

Kakashi narrowed his eye. Sasuke straightened, taken by surprise despite his previous nonchalance.

So, that's what they were doing. A clever tactic.

"On the bright side," Kotetsu began, "Amaririsu managed to rescue the Seven-Tails jinchūriki and some Waterfall shinobi before the Stone could capture her."

"Wait, Amari rescued the Seven-Tails jinchūriki?" His student's nonchalance was officially out the window.

"Of course one of my students would somehow be involved," Kakashi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

I'll need to check in on Amari. By the sound of it, she ended up on the frontline of a battle that was already lost.

A hard position for any shinobi, and one he was intimately familiar with.

For now he needed to gather information on the status of the Leaf and his student. First an outline from Izumo and Kotetsu, then an in-depth briefing from the Hokage or Shikaku—whoever wasn't busy.

Kakashi lowered his arm back to his side. "A lot has clearly happened since we left. Can you give us a quick rundown?"

The pair agreed.

Their report, as asked, was bare bones in detail. It started with Amari's departure on a D-rank mission, to the summoning of the QRF they were apart of, detailing the mission the Hokage gave their unit and the Stone's involvement in the Waterfall coup, before finally wrapping up on their eventual rendezvous with Amari's Shadow Clone decoy.

When they finished, Kakashi ruminated for a quiet moment on all they learned. Primarily his thoughts were locked onto the reality of the Waterfall jinchūriki—Fū—now known to be granted sanctuary by the Head of the Uchiha Clan.

Not only caught on the frontlines of a lost battle, but she came home to face Danzō, too, huh? Amari certainly knows how to make waves.

He couldn't imagine any of the Elders were pleased at the moment. An Uchiha having the slightest authority and protection over a jinchūriki? There wasn't a world where they gave their blessing to that.

There were pieces to this puzzle still missing, though. He needed to speak to the Hokage.

"Thanks for catching me up guys," Kakashi thanked Izumo and Kotetsu.

"Sorry we don't have better news for you," Kotetsu apologized.

"Sasuke," he turned to his student. "Why don't you go on ahead to check-in with Amari? You can fill her in on what we learned and catch up on what we've missed."

Sasuke gave a small nod. "Got it."

"In the meantime, I'll go report in to the Hokage. I'm sure we'll have plenty to talk about," he added with an aloof air.

Then, without a sound, he vanished.

The state of the world had altered in their absence. More than the bare bones report brought to light, he would soon learn. It was an alteration forced upon them all by the Stone, hellbent on their Empire.

Yet they and their allies—traitors, conscripts, mercenaries, and Akatsuki alike—were obstructed by the Leaf. By none other than his student, who announced her presence onto both the world stage and the political stage within the Leaf, no longer content to hide in the shadows.

Amari took it upon herself to obstruct the Stone and the Leaf Elders old, war-minded ideals directly. She went out of her way to show them they weren't the only ones with the power to change the world. She stepped onto the stage and declared the truth for all to hear:

The Uchiha Clan was not dead, nor was the bloodline of Madara Uchiha, for she, Haya Uchiha, still lived. She, the Head of the Uchiha Clan, would see her Clan rebuilt, renewed, reborn, and she would stand side by side with her allies against all those who sought to perpetuate the cycle of war and bloodshed. They would change the world.

Thus, within the flames of the renewed Third Great Ninja War, another war had begun. A war for the very future and soul of the world.

A war between those who believed in possibility and those who sought to maintain the status quo.

Kakashi knew which side he stood on.

---

Less than five seconds passed between the time Sasuke knocked on the door and the knob turning. The gift of Sensory Types, he judged. It certainly saved him time waiting.

Amari came into view on the other side, the warm smile on her lips combated the crisp air.

"Good morning, Sasuke. Glad to see you finally made it home. Come on in. Mom's making breakfast, if you want some."

"Thanks, but I already ate this morning," he replied, shuffling inside.

"Suit yourself, but bento boxes have nothing on Mom's cooking."

"Hmph. I don't doubt that for a second."

He shrugged off his pack and placed it out of the way beside the door. He hadn't bothered to stop home before checking on Amari, he was too worried.

Although, seeing her again, seeing her smile, and hearing her intact and unrestrained love for everything Kurenai cooked simmered his concern.

Now curiosity gripped him. About what she'd seen of the war and how she was coping. About the two new girls she and Kurenai were apparently living with. About the Foundation leader, his name, identity—anything they could eventually act on.

He had questions. So did Kakashi. He intended to get the answers they both sought, and to provide answers of his own about their mission.

Sasuke turned to Amari, who waited patiently for him to slip his sandals off, and quickly took in her appearance. She did the same, he noticed.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. No new scars were visible. If there were any beneath her long-sleeve Amari didn't care one way or another about them. Her eyes burned with the same intense fire of purpose and peaceful clarity she'd had since she'd realized who she was and who she wanted to become in the Hero World.

The fire was matched only by the sincere relief to see him alive and well again. It was a mutual feeling.

I assumed she was safe inside the Leaf this whole time, he thought. I assumed she was only training for the Anbu. Yet she was closer to war and death than Kakashi-sensei and I were on our mission.

The annoyance he felt at being unable to fight beside her, he wondered if it was similar to what Shino felt over the Sound Four incident.

"I hear you've been busy," he said.

Amari exhaled a soft chuckle. "Yeah. You could say that."

Sasuke smirked. "Apparently I can't leave you alone for a week without something happening."

"What can I say? I got bored," she shrugged, smiling. "As my advisor, you better be careful with extended absences. I might decide to declare the first ever Great Snowball War on the Hyūga Clan next time to decide once and for all who the strongest Clan in the Leaf really is."

"Heh. A Great Snowball War, huh?" he chuckled, feeling the lingering tension of concern and annoyance leave his body.

"I have plans, Sasuke. Big plans."

"Duly noted."

Amari gestured for him to follow, then turned and sauntered towards the living area. Sasuke followed.

"I'm not sure how much you know yet," Amari began, "but you'll end up meeting Fū while you're here; she should be out of the shower soon. She's a Waterfall kunoichi and the jinchūriki of the Seven-Tails— Chōmei is the name of the Seven-Tails. I've granted her sanctuary as Head of the Uchiha Clan."

"I heard. There's another girl as well, isn't there?"

"Yep. That's Karin. She usually rises after Fū gets out of the shower, so depending on how long you stay will determine if you two meet or not. But you'll definitely meet Fū. Fair warning, she's a handful. Imagine Naruto as a girl, with extra sprinkles of excitability."

"So she's a complete brain-dead idiot, then."

"Nailed it," Amari chuckled. "But she's well-meaning. The first thing she'll do is introduce herself and ask to be friends."

Sasuke hummed. "The people of the Waterfall treated her poorly, too, huh?"

"She's experienced what all jinchūriki endure," Amari confirmed, nodding once. "Everything we've learned of Gaara's, Naruto's, and Lady Mito's experiences, it applies to Fū, too. Their lives may not be identical, but they're cut from the same cloth."

"Mm."

After stopping in to politely greet Kurenai, Sasuke settled onto the couch with Amari.

"Before we get into the mess I ended up caught in, how was your mission?" she asked, crossing her legs and turning to face him entirely.

Educational was the first word to come to mind; he had learned a lot by shadowing Kakashi and, in time, with training, he intended to master those same skills.

Yet that answer felt like an evasion. An attempt to focus on her experiences rather than add another harsh truth to their already chaotic situation.

She needs to know, he pushed himself to speak.

Yeah. She did. Just as he and Kakashi needed to know about the Stone's attacks and Amari's proximity to it, keeping her in the loop about this wasn't optional. No matter how much he wished it was.

"We confirmed the presence of the Crimson Flowers in the Land of Fire," he informed after taking a short breath.

Amari blinked but said nothing at first. She clearly wasn't expecting the sudden reveal. A moment later she frowned and exhaled a sigh through her nostrils.

"I suppose it was too hopeful to think they failed to set up in our Nation," she said.

Sasuke hummed in agreement, but watched her eyes. The fire didn't dim. The peaceful lake rippled when the stone fell into it, but it quickly calmed once more.

Her Will was as strong as ever—stronger, actually. Her eyes remained crystal clear in spite of the unfortunate news. Yeah, that's all it seemed to be to her—unfortunate, but entirely predictable. And she was right.

Their world was far from perfect. They both knew that.

"What did you learn about their operations?" she asked, cutting to the meat of the issue.

They located a shady gambling operation, he explained to his clan-sister, which utilized everything from loaded dice to illegal decks of cards to increase their probability of siphoning money from the populace.

From there it got darker. Their investigations brought to light their larger schemes.

Once they picked a mark, sometimes a business owner, or a wealthy entrepreneur, other times simple traders and a dock workers, the Crimson Flowers operators would trick their marks through various means to bet their houses, stakes of ownership in their legal businesses, and, of course, the people in their lives—employees, wives, husbands, siblings, children, etc.

"They're well-funded," Sasuke explained. "The amount of legitimate businesses they've gained a stake in—its unreal." He shook his head. "They have a whole network of trade through blackmarket deals and legal markets. Right under our noses. You would recognize some of their products here in the Leaf."

"Damn," his clan-sister cursed.

Their investigation yielded a wealth of Intel on the local organization and a bountiful number of leads and persons of interests to track to their other operations scattered along the coast, where the predominant portions of the population were centrally located, far from the watchful eyes of the Leaf Village.

Yet, in spite all they learned, they hadn't put an end to the original operation they gathered Intel on. They hadn't captured a single member of the Crimson Flowers, they hadn't disturbed a single hair on their heads, or, preferably, eliminated them outright.

It grated on his nerves, even now. He voiced as much to Amari and Kurenai, who had stepped in to listen whenever possible.

"I get it," Amari said. "I would feel—I do feel the same way," she corrected herself. "I wasn't even there, but I feel that same frustration bubbling in my veins now. Knowing those bastards are still back there hurting people with no backlash. No repercussions. And certain they never will face judgement for their actions, it makes me want to grind their greedy hearts into dust beneath my sandal."

Sasuke nodded silently in agreement. He wanted to do more than that, but he understood why they hadn't. Amari did, too.

"Still, if you guys had shut down that operation then and there when we haven't located the other operations under their banner or all the businesses they have poisoned, the others would slip through our fingers. They'd cut their losses and go to ground like the cockroaches they are.

"It'd be like eliminating a random member of the Akatsuki or Foundation; as long as the ringleader and their inner circle are alive, the organizations will persist in existing. They'll just replace the member we eliminated with another, and another, and another. We'd get nowhere. At least nowhere fast."

"Yeah, I know," Sasuke agreed, leaning into the back of the couch and sighing as he stared at the ceiling. "It still pisses me off."

"We'll make them answer for their crimes someday, I promise," Amari swore.

He nodded. "I know. The Crimson Flowers, the Foundation, and the Akatsuki, we'll burn their organizations to ashes."

"Right."

Telling her everything, it went better than he imagined. Despite all he had said, Amari never lost her composure, never let that frustration boiling in her veins take control.

She was disturbed by the news, as anyone with a scrap of humanity would be, but she kept her emotions in check. She maintained her clarity. He appreciated that. He appreciated her calming presence.

It was helping him find his clarity again. It helped him regain focus after the recent bombshells and brought their objectives back into focus.

"Honestly," he sat up and leaned forward onto his knees. "It doesn't matter where they hide, Kakashi-sensei won't allow any of the ringleaders to escape."

He pursed his lips in discomfort. "I've only seen that expression on his face three or four times. It always takes me by surprise."

"Oh. It was one of those expressions." Amari shuddered. "I'd feel sorry for them if they weren't rotten bastards."

Yeah. He would, too. Because that cold, focused expression of Kakashi's was locked onto the Crimson Flowers. They couldn't see it, but Sasuke had.

For the briefest of moments when they found the cargo manifest listing the height, gender, weight, attributes and ages of people from age five to seventy-eight, he'd seen the look of death on his teacher's face. A look that could've killed the First Hokage and Madara at the same time.

Kakashi wouldn't let them escape. Even if it took years, he'd sniff them out and drag them out of their hiding places.

When that day inevitably arrived, the last sound they would hear would be the cry of the Lightning Blade, and the last thing they'd see would be that terrifying cold expression, offering only contempt. Because that's all they were worthy of.

Sasuke let the thought go on a deep exhale. He raised his eyes to look at Amari and asked, "How are you holding up?"

"Better than during those hellish days of physical therapy."

He snorted but said nothing. He knew she would elaborate, and he was right.

"Helping Fū and Karin settle in and training for the Anbu has kept me focused. It makes the war, the Foundation—everything that I've stressed about feel farther away. I was overwhelmed by it when we got back. Everything felt like it was spinning out of control. I…sort of broke down. Mom helped pick me back up."

Sasuke nodded but said nothing. He didn't want to interrupt. He also made a mental note to thank Kurenai in private for everything she did for his clan-sister.

"Now I'm trying to take it a day at a time," she continued. "I'm focusing on what I can control and what I can improve on. The war is out of my control," Amari said with a light shake of her head. "It's here and it's not going to go away no matter how angry, hurt, or stressed I feel."

Shrugging helplessly, she said, "There's nothing I can do to stop it on my own. I can't snap my fingers and end the war. If I could, I would. I'd create a utopia with a snap of my fingers if I could. But I can't, and I have to accept that."

Sasuke gave a small, solemn nod. "It's a sad reality, but life goes on even when war is being waged. The best we can do is prepare for the day we're on the battlefield."

"True," she agreed, dipping her chin once. "The only way for us to end the cycle of war and reach a utopian society is to stand against those who uphold the status quo of war. We have to fight them with everything we have, and reach out to anyone we can, wherever and whenever we can. The Haya from The Beyond showed me that."

Again Sasuke felt himself nod in agreement.

He would fight beside her through it all, to the very end, no matter who they faced. The Stone, the Tsuchikage himself, the whole Foundation and their leader, Orochimaru—didn't matter.

Amari had chosen to fight against the system that destroyed their Clan, their families, and now would see them enter the arena of war. She sought to build a future where children like them would never be traumatized by the greed, fear, prejudice and hunger for power of adults ever again. A world where children didn't have to wield weapons in the war of adults.

His clan-sister sought to change the very world itself, even if that meant moving it inches closer to an egalitarian society.

A worthy battle for an Uchiha.

"Whatever happens in this war," he said, "I've got your back."

"Thanks, Sasuke," Amari smiled.

"What actually happened on your mission anyway—"

"Hey Amari, I've got a quest— Oh wow!" A petite, dark-skinned girl halted at the middle of the staircase, hair the color of mint and eyes like freshly plucked oranges. "I know that guy! Well, I don't know him," she quickly corrected, "but I see your face, like, every morning. You're the grumpy-faced one in Amari's team photo!"

Grumpy-faced one?

Sasuke didn't know whether to cock an eyebrow in annoyance or snort at her description. Amari stifled a giggle behind a poorly timed cough; it made his decision easier.

The Uchiha boy cocked an eyebrow up at his clan-sister.

Really? This is the new brain-dead idiot you brought back?

She smirked and shrugged. She wasn't about to offer any excuses or take a side.

The petite girl—Fū, he presumed—suddenly lunged down the stairs in a single bound, then all but skipped behind the couch to stand beside him, giddy as a schoolgirl who's crush had waved good morning to her.

As he turned his head to face her, Fū leaned forward into his personal space, face coming mere inches from his own, all while wearing a stupid, excited grin. He recoiled back slightly.

"Hi there, it's nice to meet ya! I'm Fū! Let's be friends, hehe!"

Shooting a glance to his clan-sister, Sasuke saw she was visibly savoring his discomfort, struggling all the while, to his eye, not to die of laughter.

Great, he bemoaned. She was being serious. This girl really is clueless like Naruto.

Well, he knew the antidote to that.

Reaching up, he pressed his hand against her face, drawing a noise of surprise out of the girl, and gently pushed her away.

"Stay out of my personal space and we won't have any issues," he stated flatly.

"Oh, right! Sorry about that, hehe!" She was still beaming. "Sometimes I get a bit excited when I meet new people and I totally forget about boundaries."

Fū clutched her hands into fists in front of her chest in excitement. "I'm totally looking forward to being friends with you! I already feel super close with Naruto and Sakura, and I live with Amari now—obviously. You're, like, the final member of their team. You'll complete the set, you know! So let's be friends!"

Again Sasuke looked to his clan-sister for assistance. Again he was left wanting.

"You don't want to be the 'grumpy-faced one' forever, do you?" she asked, smirking with sadistic amusement.

He rolled his eyes. "Like I care about that."

"I'll be an awesome friend, I promise!" Fū declared.

She's not going to let this go until I agree, is she?

Looking at her eager expression, Sasuke fought back a groan.

Great. Another enthusiastic brain-dead idiot.

"I'll think about it," he decided on a neutral stance.

"Yes!" Fū hopped, pumped her fist, and cheered.

"Why are you so excited?" Sasuke questioned.

"It may not have been a yes, but it wasn't a no, either. That means there's still totally a chance we'll be best friends someday!"

"Hmph," Sasuke snorted and shook his head. "You're a brain-dead idiot."

A bolt of lightning may as well have crashed through the roof and pierced straight through Fū. He swore he saw her spirit leave her body and smoke rising off her.

"I'm…a brain-dead idiot?" she repeated, sounding shell-shocked.

"Don't worry, Fū. He calls Naruto that all the time," Amari reassured, smirking at her reaction. "It's how Mister Grumpy-Face shows his affection."

"Wait, really?" Fū brightened instantly. "Ah, sweet! That means we're totally best friends, then!"

"You're just like Naruto," Sasuke shook his head, amused by the revelation.

"Told you," said Amari.

"Hehe!" Fū laughed, placing her hands on her hips, standing straight and proud. "You're not as grumpy as you look, new best friend!"

Sasuke could only shake his head.

Reaching out to whoever we can, wherever and whenever we can, huh?

It was how she had rescued Fū and Naruto, Haku, Hikari, and Temujin.

It was how she had rescued him.

And, eventually, it would be how she changed the world.

---

He's here.

Karin pinched and tugged at the hem of her shirt, she shifted on her feet in uncertainty, excitement, and fear.

The boy who had saved her during the Chūnin Exams from the massive bear, the one she hadn't been able to see entirely, but could vividly recall the small smile, voice, and chakra of, the one from Amaririsu's team photograph, he was here. Downstairs. Inside the Yūhi household.

God, she was nervous. Would he even remember her?

Karin winced. No, he probably wouldn't. She would be stupid to think he would. It wasn't like saving her was some grand moment in his life. It only felt profound to her because it had been the first act of generosity she experienced since her mother died; he'd literally saved her life, and he hadn't cared about their scroll or asked for anything in return.

He just…helped. He went out of his way to save her when the two Grass shinobi weren't anywhere around, when he could've just as easily left her to die and it would've been no skin off his back.

What do I say? Do I say anything? Or do I just pretend we've never met?

Karin bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. I want to thank him. I didn't get to. And I want…I want to see his smile again.

Chakra like his, like Amaririsu's, it made her feel all gooey inside. It set loose terrible flurries of butterflies in her stomach and made her feel uncomfortably warm.

She was going to make a fool of herself, Karin realized in horror. Then he'd think she was weird and awkward and wouldn't want anything to do with her.

He'd think her a fool. A weird, awkward fool who held onto an inconsequential moment.

The young girl eyed the stairs. She had to go down. It was the only way to reach the kitchen, otherwise breakfast would get cold and that would be rude to Kurenai, who took such time and care to prepare all of their meals to fit their specific needs.

And god, her food was still glorious after a week. Today was also "Waffle Day" in Fū's words.

She couldn't wait to try them again. That she now had a chance to meet that boy again—Sasuke Uchiha, Amaririsu's clan-brother—left her with goosebumps.

I'll just pretend we've never met, Karin thought, nodding to herself. Yeah. That's what I'll do. If I just pretend we've never met, I won't make an utter fool of myself. It shouldn't be hard. It's not like he'll remember me.

Encouraged by blissful ignorance, Karin stopped tugging at her shirt and descended the stairs, every step down causing her heart to beat a little faster as glimpses of the living area came into view, and the voices of Amaririsu, Fū, and Sasuke carried to her warm ears.

"That's when she totally kicked those Elders butts, like bam, and pow! And hi-yah!"

Fū's excited voice and strikes at invisible enemies actually calmed Karin down. It filled her with relief, even as she rolled her eyes at her overzealous rendition of the situation.

"Hmph," she heard Sasuke chuckle, and felt her heart race.

"She's overdoing it a little," Amaririsu said. "However, I did manage to piss all three of them off by kicking their butts with words, so I'm sure they hate me even more now."

"The feelings mutual," Sasuke said.

"Incredibly mutual."

"You'll have to show me what the Foundation leader looks like later."

"I will."

Fū noticed Karin arrive at the bottom of the stairs first. Like the kind and sincere person she was, the Waterfall kunoichi beamed at her, crossed the distance and, without a hint of hesitation, wrapped her in a bear hug, as though they hadn't seen each other in days.

"Karin, you're just in time! Breakfast should be done in a few minutes and you'll get to meet Sasuke. Oh, and good morning!" she greeted enthusiastically.

"Good morning, Fū."

"C'mon," Fū let go only to take her by the wrist, "I'll introduce you! We're super best friends now!"

Karin's heart jumped. "Wa- wait, Fū, hold on."

She wasn't ready! She had no idea what to say or how to introduce herself yet!

"Heh. Did you hear that, Sasuke? You've evolved into super best friends now. I'm proud of you. You've really grown, Mister Grumpy-Face."

"Shut up," he rolled his eyes, but his smile betrayed the annoyed tone.

"Hehe!" Amaririsu giggled.

Fū dragged her behind the couch, between the two seated Uchiha's, and didn't waste time introducing them.

"Sasuke, this is Karin! She's super shy and quiet, but she's also really nice. So you better be nice, too. Karin, this is—"

"Hey, I recognize you," Sasuke interrupted the Waterfall kunoichi. "You were in the Chūnin Exams, weren't you?"

He remembers me!

Karin nearly fainted.

"Whoa. You know Karin already?" Fū sounded like someone had told her the secret of life. "That's so cool!"

"When did you two meet?" Amaririsu wondered, clearly confused.

"It was after the Sound Genin attacked us," he recalled. "You were still out cold. I was searching for supplies when I came across her. Remember those bears we fought during Anko's training?"

"Ugh." Amari scrunched her nose. "Those."

"One of them was preparing to kill her, so I stepped in."

"Huh. Small world."

"Uh, um, th- thank you." Karin quickly and awkwardly bowed her head, and nearly slammed it into the top of the couch. "You saved my life. If you hadn't, I…wouldn't be here right now."

"Don't worry about it," he brushed it off cooly. "I'm glad my comrades could help you. You're in good hands with Amari and Kurenai-sensei. They'll keep you safe." A small smirk crossed his lips as his eyes glanced to his teammate. "As long as Amari's luck doesn't draw you into any trouble, anyway."

It was Amaririsu's turn to roll her eyes. "Like you're any luckier than I am."

"Which one of us flew through space and time into another world?"

"Which one of us acquired the attention of Orochimaru first?"

"Heh. Good point."

"Amari, Fū, Karin, breakfast is ready!" Kurenai called warmly from the kitchen.

"Wahoo! Waffles!" Fū vanished from her side before she could blink.

"She's as bad as Naruto," Sasuke chuckled, rising from the couch.

"Yep. And has a heart of gold just like him," Amaririsu replied as she uncrossed her legs and rose.

"Hm. Can't argue with that."

"Ready, Karin?"

Karin blinked, broken from her trance of watching the two Uchiha banter, and feeling a sense of warmth from it.

She'd seen his smile. Heard his laugh. He even offered compassionate words.

I didn't die back in that town, she thought. I survived. I found these amazing people. And…

"Oh, um, yes. I am."

I think I'm where I'm supposed to be now, Mom.

---

From the outskirts of the refugee camp, Oda Makimura observed the piddling few Grass shinobi now under his command, huddled together like a collective of weary homeless veterans among the displaced civilians and injured the Leaf medic-nins were tending to.

The evacuation was a success. It wasn't perfect, of course. Because of the bomber they had lost all those inside the medical tent, among other comrades who fell at the hands of the Stone's forces.

Oda couldn't begin to calculate the depth of their true losses. He could only hope other units had managed to slip free of the Stone's attack, that they, too, found someway to preserve the most life possible from their enemy's ruthless, indiscriminate slaughter of shinobi and civilian alike.

Even if it wasn't perfect. Even if it wasn't enough, as he felt deep in his core. At least it was something. At least they had saved some. It was a thin silver-lining, dull and nearly grey like the thick clouds looming over his heart, but he could see its glint now and then. When the storm raging within calmed.

Oda watched three men depart for the outskirts of the camp. One pulled out a package of cigarettes, passed two to his comrades, stuck another between his lips, then pulled out a silver rectangle. He flipped its top, struck the lighter, and lit their cigarettes.

His eyes drifted back to the gathering of Grass shinobi and civilians.

Truthfully, they had saved more than he expected; they owed the Leaf squad led by Anko Mitarashi a debt of gratitude for all their help, which he had expressed to her unit personally and to the Hokage, for without their aid the Stone would have captured or slaughtered all those before him. Oda included.

Indeed, he would not be among the living were it not for the Leaf shinobi. He and the few men he had left owed their very lives to the Clones of the young Leaf Genin. It was because of them they had escaped the death radius of that terrifying explosion, of which the source remained an utter mystery.

It is better we do not know, Oda thought, crossing his arms and frowning deeply.

He eyed the Grass shinobi previously under the leadership of other men—men like Zōsui—with veiled suspicion.

If they knew who was responsible for that power, they would seek it out. They would attempt to claim it as their own, just as they used that poor child and her mother.

Many of the men and women now before him were strangers. They were shinobi he had never served with before—different battalions, different sectors. He had known nothing of them before recent days.

Now, unfortunately, he felt only distrust for many of the men and women. He could feel nothing else, not after everything the Hokage, Master Jiraiya, and Shikaku Nara had revealed.

Oda hummed lowly. He reached up and scratched his growing beard—there hadn't been time to shave since arriving at the Leaf.

The inability to trust the people you would fight side by side with, it was a dangerous predicament that filled him with unease, not at all aided by the grim reality of his new role.

At present, he was the highest ranking Grass shinobi in the whole military, if one could consider what he now commanded an actionable military. If one could consider it little more than a piddling opposition force.

He no longer had a higher-up to report to, a Village leader to depend on; everyone who once stood higher on the ladder than him were either dead or missing-in-action. It was not a day he ever expected to wake up to. He would've preferred it never happened, frankly.

Oda held faith others had survived. He held faith they escaped by retreating across the border wherever they could, or now worked in the shadows to combat the Stone and their allies roaming freely over their homeland. This small group before him could not be the last of the Grass, he refused to believe it. The thought was too dark. Too demoralizing.

Faith would have to sustain him until he found the others.

However, realistically, he understood his situation. He understood the grim possibility of never locating one of his superiors was frighteningly high, which meant someone had to take command in their absence. Thus the duty fell upon his weary but determined shoulders.

Oda was no longer merely the Commander of a single battalion. Until he found someone higher up the ladder than him, he was the Commander of the Grass's fractured military power. It was quite the burden, made all the more difficult to bear after hearing the Leaf's report.

How can I trust these shinobi after what they've done to an innocent child? he wondered. How can I trust them to defend our people when they would show a desperate mother and her daughter nothing except contempt?

Despite their sacrifices in hopes to one day be treated as true citizens, to be treated as human beings worthy of compassion and common decency, my own comrades abused an innocent woman and her daughter. They showed them nothing but cruelty, going so far as to drain the mother of all her chakra. And nearly doing the same to her child.

When the Fifth Hokage detailed the cruelty of those he would have once proudly called comrades, Oda felt an overwhelming sense of shame. And fury. He felt it now, tingling beneath his skin, as he observed the men and women he would command.

Oda dug his fingers into his biceps.

Zōsui and his subordinates, and all those who abetted their cruelty, they did not deserve to wear their headbands. They did not deserve to call themselves shinobi of the Grass. He would disqualify them as shinobi and imprison them for their crimes at this very moment, if not for his limited pool of troops to rely on.

Despite my own morals, I must tolerate them, Oda thought darkly. Despite the justice my heart yearns for, I cannot cast aside a single shinobi under my command presently. I must fight this war with the "army" I have.

It was a bitter pill to swallow. That he'd have to stomach them at all made his teeth grind together. But he had to. There was no other choice now.

He would keep a close eye on them. He would bide his time, stomaching their existence for as long as it was necessary, and when the end of the war finally came, if he still lived and still possessed any hint of power, he would see justice served.

No, he thought suddenly. I will not leave it to chance. I will ensure their names and their crimes are recorded. I will ensure they face justice, whether I live or die in this war.

For their crimes had far-reaching consequences beyond the life they stole and the child they traumatized.

You desperate imbeciles eroded the trust of our staunch allies in the Leaf. You greedy fools planted seeds of doubt within the minds of the current leadership and their next generation, within the hearts of our only ally among the Five Great Nations.

Oda was very displeased.

Now their actions, their honor, and the very essence and Will of their Village were in question. And he could not blame the Leaf for their questions. He could not blame them for their doubt or the severity of their questioning.

Shame and humility were all he could show, for they were all he felt.

Fortunately, his sincerity earned him a scrap of trust from the Hokage, Master Jiraiya, and Shikaku Nara. It was only a start. They would hold him and his comrades under the same scrutinizing gaze he held his allies under.

One day, he recalled his parting words, I hope we can regain our honor and regain your trust.

"Ryūzetsu," he hailed without turning around.

Behind Oda the small frame of a child—teenager—emerged from the shadows, attired in the uniform of the Grass's Anbu Black Ops. Their waist-length white hair was covered by a green bandana adorned with a long, curved white stripe. They concealed their face behind a fox-motif porcelain mask, but grey eyes with multiple circular patterns were visibly through the eyeholes.

"Will we be moving out soon, Sir?" Ryūzetsu asked.

"Soon," he agreed. Then half-turned to look at the young Anbu agent. "I want you to learn who among our comrades were directly involved with Zōsui and his operations. Furthermore, never speak of your kekkei genkai openly around our comrades," he added, shaking his head once.

A kekkei genkai like hers was certain to acquire those same men's attention. And just like the child they abused previously, they would force her to use it, no matter its cost.

Fortunately, the young Anbu agent understood. She gave a small nod and said,

"Of course."

Then Ryūzetsu vanished.

Oda looked off at the horizon beyond the trees shedding their leaves for the winter season.

It would be a long winter, he felt in his core.

A long, tumultuous winter of war.