Fire, Water… Sand

Senju Tobirama grunted.

The heat of this strange, desert world was relentless, and the sand clung to his robes like a persistent reminder of how far from home he was.

Well, how far from home the two of them were.

Uchiha Izuna, next to him, seemed equally uncomfortable, though he tried to hide it behind a veneer of stoic indifference.

"Are you certain this is the way?" The Uchiha asked once more.

"I am sure." Tobirama said curtly.

"You said the same two hours ago." Izuna nearly whined. "Why don't we use your Fūjin technique?"

"It's called Hiraishin." Tobirama bit back. And it didn't work like that.

"What does it have to do with thunder?"

"It's like a thunderstrike." Tobirama said, eyes narrowed. "Stop talking."

"Why?" Izuna's eyes bled red as he stared into the distance. "Is anyone coming?"

"No." Tobirama said. "I simply don't want to hear you."

"How amusing." Izuna said dryly. "I would rather have gone with your brother, myself."

Tobirama's lips twitched in a rare hint of amusement. "I would not have wanted to go with yours. But here we are, stuck with each other."

…

The little boy was somewhat unimpressive.

"Are you certain that he is the one we are looking for?" Izuna asked him.

"Stop. Talking." Tobirama said. "Can't you feel his presence? It can only be him."

Izuna frowned. "My eyes see chakra. Not whatever this is, Senju."

Tobirama couldn't suppress a small chuckle. "Is that why that red-skinned man nearly stabbed you, before?"

Izuna scowled, this time. "No." He said. "That is because it was nearly impossible to predict that his blade could come out of either end. Also, he did not come anywhere near me."

"I could have sworn it was so."

"It wasn't." Izuna hissed.

As far as battles went, it had been rather short and anticlimactic.

They had been ambushed by someone they had assumed was a native to this planet. A man wielding a blade of red light (well, two blades, technically), as well as some ability to push and pull things.

Of course, being that they dealt with Rinnegan bearers on a daily basis — and had one pair hidden in their soul, each — such things were relatively unimpressive.

Tobirama, mostly for the sake of curiosity, had engaged him in a quick duel, pulling out his own Sword of the Thunder God.

The man, if he could be called that, being an alien, had been somewhat fast, but not nearly enough. Likely to provoke Tobirama, Izuna had stabbed him in the back, cutting their confrontation short.

The two men brought their attention back to the boy.

Whose eyes were wide, a mix of curiosity and wariness as he observed the two shinobi.

"…Who are you?" He asked.

"I am Senju Tobirama, and this is Uchiha Izuna." Tobirama introduced, his voice carrying the weight of authority, of experience. "We are shinobi from a distant land, far beyond the reaches of your world."

Uchiha Izuna gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod, his eyes sharp and observant. "Shinobi." He echoed. "Masters of combat and strategy, among other things. Fire wielders."

"Water weavers." Tobirama interjected.

The boy furrowed his brow slightly. "…I can cook and clean." He said. "And I've built this droid." He added, more proudly, pointing at the metallic thing they assumed was a robot, in the corner of the room.

Tobirama smiled slightly at the boy's earnestness. "Those are valuable skills."

The boy nodded earnestly. "Master Jabba doesn't think so."

Exchanging a glance, Izuna and Tobirama evaluated the situation. "This 'Master Jabba'… is he your mentor?" Tobirama inquired.

A shadow crossed the boy's face. "No, he's more like the big boss… a powerful figure here in Tatooine."

Both men's expressions hardened subtly.

"Understood." Tobirama's tone was decisive. "Could you direct us to him? We wish to have a word."

For once, they seemed to be in agreement.

"Sure." the boy agreed, then hesitated. "You're also searching for someone else, aren't you?"

"Yes." Izuna nodded. "A Skywalker named Anakin."

The boy looked up sharply. "Oh. That's me."

"We suspected as much." Tobirama responded smoothly.

Anakin's voice held a wary edge. "So, what do you want with me?"

"Your world's fate apparently hinges on you seeking therapy." Izuna revealed, eliciting a hiss of annoyance from Tobirama. "Don't glare at me, Senju. That's the message from Uzumaki Hanabi."

"Especially then!" Tobirama muttered.

"Thera...?" Anakin shrugged, perplexed. "I don't know what that is."

"It's nothing for you to concern yourself with yet." Tobirama waved off. "I'll locate this Master Jabba. If you'd excuse me."

Izuna snorted. "I'm sure even you are enough to take care of him alone, yes. I will remain near the boy." He added, more quietly. "In case."

Tobirama nodded. "Very well."

Acknowledging him with a nod, Tobirama departed.

"Do you live here alone?" Izuna's gaze swept the modest dwelling.

"No." Anakin shook his head. "But Mom is working."

Izuna paused. "For that… Master Jabba?" He asked with distaste. Another world to liberate, then…? Or some people to relocate if they were willing, perhaps?

"Yes." Anakin's confirmation was hesitant. "What was that... at your friend's waist?"

Izuna sighed. "That man is not…" He cut himself off. "…Well, I guess there are worse choices for company. It was a sword."

Anakin's eyes widened. "A real sword?"

Izuna glanced around, once more. Well, it should be safe, with him around to oversee the entire thing.

"A real light sword, yes. And I have another one, a red-light sword, which I am sure is of much better quality." Izuna said, pulling the fallen man's weapon out and holding it to the kid. He made sure to point it in the right direction(s). "Wanna try it while we wait for him?"

The boy's eyes lit in delight.

PARTS/TEMPERED HEARTS

"Bitch, that's an illegal move." Sakura growled.

Ino looked up from her own cards, staring at her stonily. "I'm sure you'd know all about illegal moves."

"This is not the time for your crusades about my alleged cheating at games." Sakura dismissed. "Karin, tell her it's an illegal move."

Karin glanced at the cards and nodded. "It's an illegal move, Ino."

"Thank you, Karin." Sakura smiled.

"You're welcome — Royal Flush, by the way." Karin announced. "I take this one."

Sakura groaned again.

In the background, a pair of figures were hard at work on a well-floured surface.

"I'm sure she is pretending to be learning how to knead dough." Ino grunted, once she glanced at them. "Which makes no sense. That hag's older than bread."

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were more or less fine with her being around."

Karin gave Sakura a long look, then Ino. 'Did I misunderstand something…?'

"Perhaps if I didn't have to endure her company in this fine morning."

"You're being too harsh." Karin said. "Nothing happened anyway — Naruto's being dumb about it. Well, we needed to talk. That's why—"

"Her fault, too." Sakura said, cutting off whatever she was going to say.

Karin frowned. Was she interrupting her on purpose?

Hanabi sighed. "I was expecting her to try and entice him with the most depraved—"

"Hoping." Karin said. "You were hoping."

"…What did I say?" Hanabi pretended to think.

"Don't even start." Ino muttered.

"Get used to the idea."

"I'd rather not — and I will keep complaining the whole way through this morning, actually." Ino warned. "Since apparently, I'm now just one of the Emperor's grumpy concubines—"

"That club is only Yugito and you, though." Sakura said. "Me, I'm good with the latest spontaneous development."

"There's nothing spontaneous about any of this." Ino grunted. "You planned for this — when was it, when you were traveling with her, then?"

"No, it was Karin's idea, actually." Sakura said.

"No, it wasn't." Karin frowned. "…Wait, was it? What are you talking about?"

"I have decided I'll be sleeping at my mother's — Or Sakura's parents' place." Ino stated.

"…Again?" Hanabi asked. "That's like three nights in a row."

"No. Shikamaru's place, too. And Chōji's."

"Ah, true."

"Shikamaru's worried that Naruto's going to make him disappear... at some point." Ino admitted. "Which shows little he understands."

"I suppose Shiho is fine with you staying over, then." Hanabi shrugged. Shikamaru's girlfriend wasn't exactly her problem. "Are you that mad about their little reading session?"

Ino grunted noncommittally. "I told you already — if they just fucked a few times and got it over with, that would be one thing. I just don't…"

Hanabi squinted and Ino realized she was probing. "Don't what?"

"…Never mind."

"Oh, well." Hanabi shrugged. "If you're fine with it. You can sleep at Hiashi's, if you want, by the way — if you need a place to brood away from us." She offered, generously. "Though he's probably not too used to taking care of his own room, so it might be a mess. Uncle used to say he was a spoiled brat as a child."

"No, thank you."

Hanabi nodded. "Yeah, I wouldn't do it either. He's a dick, and I say this in spite of us technically being blood-related."

"…Not because of it?" Sakura asked evenly.

Ino sighed. "No, but really. Why is she here?" She asked.

"She's a guest." Sakura stated and Karin gave her another long look that she avoided. "It's just breakfast. And a little—"

"Guest today. What about tomorrow? Are we adding a sixth chair permanently?"

The room fell silent. Karin and Hanabi exchanged glances, before staring at Sakura intently. Sakura focused on her tea.

…

"I believe Ino is glaring at me." Yoisen said.

Naruto scratched his head and managed to get flour in his hair in doing so. "I'll talk to her."

"No need." She countered. "That she is willing to have me here at all is enough." For now.

Naruto looked at Yoisen, and her eyes focused on kneading the dough. "You seem to know your way around bread-making."

Yoisen smiled. "A few centuries do teach you a few things." She said. "And perhaps we simply make a good team."

…

"Yeah, that's it." Ino muttered to herself. "Butter him up, the way we're going to butter this dry bread…"

Karin raised an eyebrow. "…Did you just say something? Are you scheming again?"

"No, she's just complaining all the way through breakfast." Sakura said, sighing. "Just as she said she would."

Hanabi, who could read lips at least as well as any Uchiha clan member could, but also happened to be more thoughtful and humble than any of the red-eyed plagiarizers, did not bother voicing out Ino's grumbles, nor Yoisen's words.

Ino shot Sakura a glare. "You wouldn't understand, I'm sure."

"I do understand that you're a master of the art of bitching." Sakura said. "You've elevated it to an art form, really."

"I'd make a career of whining, if I wasn't so concerned with keeping a few dangerous idiots in line." Ino countered.

"Ah…" Hanabi leaned back, her hands behind her head. "This is a beautiful tableau. You and Sakura bickering, Naruto and his good friend playing housewives. Who could ask for more?"

Ino glanced at Hanabi, then a smiling Karin, unimpressed. "I could."

"Oh?" Karin smiled slightly. "What would you add?"

Ino scowled, and glanced Yoisen's way. "I would remove some vintage photographers from the painting, for starters."

"That's unfair." Hanabi said. "She's also a great architect — perhaps you could find some common ground."

Ino's eyes narrowed. "Low blow, Hanabi. Even for you."

Hanabi raised both hands. "…I mean it, really."

…

"I must ask." Yoisen said, looking up at Naruto. "Is it normal for your wives to be at odds like this?"

Naruto glanced at them and shrugged. Maybe he should speed up the rising process before tensions boiled over — as 'non-traditional' as Yoisen called it. Perhaps even the cooking itself. "They have... strong personalities."

"…Certainly."

"It's one of the many things I love about them."

Yoisen smiled gently. "As they love about you, I'm sure."

…

Sakura sighed, discarding a card onto the table.

"If you two are done throwing barbs at each other, can we get back to the game?"

Karin chuckled. "You sound as though you have a good hand."

"Wouldn't you like to know…?" Sakura shot back, teasing.

Ino flicked her wrist, revealing her cards. "Full House."

Sakura groaned. "Oh, for fuck's sake. I hate playing with mind-readers—"

Hanabi glanced at the cards, then back at Ino. "Not bad. But not good enough." She displayed her cards, grinning. "Four of a Kind."

"—And Byakugan-users, too." Sakura finished, sighing.

Sakura was glancing around, looking for anything that wasn't card-related. She ended up seizing the device that lay on a nearby shelf.

Karin sighed. "Put it down. No work-related shit now. We're off-duty."

"Chill out." Sakura said. "I'm just looking. I can't access Naruto's account anyway."

"Small mercies." Ino muttered.

Sakura stared at the device, deep in thought.

"…Your password for the Beacon Relay is 'password,' too." Karin supplied. "If you must."

Sakura nodded. "…Right, I remembered."

Ino rolled her eyes. "Are you for real…?"

Karin shrugged. "It doesn't really matter, it's just an added security measure. The real ones are linked to the person themselves."

Ino opened her mouth to retort, but Sakura cut her off. "Looks like we missed a call last night. A distress call, to be exact."

Karin let out an exasperated sigh. "Can we not do this at breakfast? It's being handled."

"By who?" Sakura queried.

"By whom?" Hanabi corrected.

"I know what I said."

A new voice answered that question. "By me."

There was a splash of bright, saturated colors, spreading upon reality as though it were vibrant paint on a solid canvas. Toru stepped through the portal and released a weary exhale.

"Please don't mention anything about fucking Valvraves." Toru muttered. "Or high-schoolers."

"…Valvrave?" Karin squinted. "What's that?"

"Please — a mess I had to fix."

"We weren't planning on asking, to be honest." Hanabi shrugged.

"Good. I thank you for being a dick, then."

"Good on you for bringing it up. I wanted to talk about this, really." Hanabi said.

"What about…?" Toru asked.

"Misogyny. Being called a dick — it usually means that you're doing something right. Being called a pussy means that you're a coward."

Ino gave her a quizzical look. "Being called a dick is not a good thing either."

"Then why do you guys always call me one, if it's not a compliment?" Hanabi asked. No one answered. "That's what I thought. Pussies."

Toru scowled. "What did you just call me?"

Hanabi smiled in triumph. "It was a compliment. Do you get my point, now?"

"I can't say I do, no."

Hanabi did not seem to care.

"So what, did you have to punch demons again?" Sakura asked. "Do you know how I spent that month inside a kami?"

Toru tilted his head. "…Losing what little was left of your mind?"

Sakura cackled. "Tough, but fair — I'll accept it. So?"

"I told you I did not want to talk about it." Toru said. "…I had to punch robots, actually."

"…Why did you not use your Rinne-Sharingan?"

"Because there were people living on the Moon there, and it would have felt pretty rude. Also robots don't care about illusions. You should know, Sakura, you're one of them."

"…Why did you not try doing… anything else?" Karin asked.

"Aside from your lack of common sense." Hanabi added.

Toru ignored her. "Because I didn't feel like roasting high-schoolers alive, and I've got perfectly good fists?"

"Only because you cheat." Hanabi countered.

'Cheating' meant reinforcing them by pulling upon space with the Deva Path before impact, and pushing right after the moment of contact. All in order to boost power.

"I also cheat for acceleration, yes." Toru nodded proudly. "It's not my fault none of you are any good at this, though. I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be good at it, Hanabi. Kage told me that the Tenseigan allows—"

"Call it by its real name." She retorted.

Toru shrugged. "Your loss."

Karin shrugged, too, and she was a little bit peeved. "Some of us don't need to punch things harder." She paused. "Faster would be nice, though."

"Yes, but I was talking mostly about the finger-poking, dagger-stabbing, palm-slapping variety of martial artists."

"You mentioned me twice." Hanabi said, looking satisfied. "Also, why are you not counting Naruto in?"

"Because long swords don't count, obviously." Toru frowned. "…Nor his ludicrous speed boosts. Just pure Taijutsu."

"Hypocrite." Hanabi muttered, unwilling to show that she agreed with him on something.

"I'd bet my Rupturing Water-Dagger technique is at least as good as your gravity thing." Sakura grumbled.

"I'd test it out, but since you keep insisting on remaining intangible…" Toru shrugged. "I'll settle for being the best martial artist around."

"Tied for best martial artist around." Hanabi said tightly. "Which happens to be rendered easier when one can read others' moves… and steal all of them."

"Copy them." Sakura corrected, emphasizing the word.

Toru smiled. "Are you finally admitting there's something good about the Uchiha clan, little firecracker…? I suppose there are eyes lying around, should you ever feel like taking one, of course…"

Hanabi scoffed dismissively. "If I wanted to risk my sanity, I'd just ask Sakura for her take on the meaning of life."

"I thought I had it figured out, actually — educating the next generation." Sakura mused. "But then I remembered we're all immortal, so… never mind."

"Great." Toru nodded toward Hanabi. "And I'm not taking any of your clans' eyes, either."

Hanabi chuckled. "I assumed it was because non-Hyūga brains can barely handle the Byakugan without breaking, let alone anything as complex as the Mangekyō."

"There's that, too." Karin agreed. "That fancy Chakra Mode isn't worth frying our neural circuits over."

"You'd still have to learn how to expel chakra through your tenketsu properly anyway." Hanabi said. "That aside… That the Eye-stealer even manages to use the regular version of the Byakugan briefly is somewhat impressive, I suppose."

"Eye-stealer?" Karin's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Ao." Ino clarified. Then, seeing Karin still didn't see who she meant: "The blue-haired guy from Kirigakure. Normal teeth."

"That's him." Hanabi confirmed. "He was something of a cautionary tale within the Hyūga clan: 'Master your Gentle Fist, or the Blue Devil will come and steal your eyes.'"

"…Who said that?" Karin asked slowly.

Hanabi shrugged, a wistful smile crossing her lips. "Neji. He used to tell me stories to frighten me."

"…Right." Toru said. "I won't delve into that."

"I did not kill him solely for that." Hanabi shook her head.

"I just said I'm not touching this statement."

"I don't care." Hanabi said. "Just because we tied doesn't mean much."

"Oh, you're still going on about that." Toru grinned, eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'm sure it really doesn't get to you at all."

"Well. I'm glad you think it's funny." She hissed, and it was clear it was getting to her right now. "You get a couple stupid Mangekyō abilities and you feel pretty confident, huh? Darting around like a scuttling insect on steroids, or messing with your opponent's speed — Like the cheating rat you are."

Toru scoffed. "It's nothing, compared to intangibility. Or Super-Hanabi bullshit."

"That's Mangekyō." Hanabi countered. "Not bullshit."

"So's mine."

"Enough talk." Hanabi slapped a hand on the table. "Let's settle this!"

"You're on!"

Sakura stood, a grin spreading across her face. "Mind if I join the fun?"

"Fight me for the title first, Toru!" Hanabi roared. "Loser is stuck as number two!"

"Bring it! Hanabi!—"

Spectral hands smacked the back of their heads. They both whirled around, to glare at the incoming Naruto, who was followed by Yoisen. Ino sighed.

"Bread's ready." Naruto said, rolling his eyes. "Idiots."

…

Naruto placed the basket of golden-brown loaves on the table, their crusts crackling softly as he did so.

Their scent, rich with olive oil and a hint of rosemary, filled the room, weaving a comforting warmth through the air. Each loaf was dimpled artfully, glistening with a light sheen of oil and sprinkled with coarse salt; a delightful combination of crunch and softness.

Ino's expression remained stormy, and Toru subtly distanced himself from her. It wasn't just her empathic abilities, potent enough to unintentionally sway others' emotions, that made him wary.

"Smells good, doesn't it?" Sakura said, trying to break the tension.

"It does." Karin agreed, casting a hopeful glance at Yoisen, whose expression looked perfectly — too perfectly, she now knew — calm. "Why don't you sit next to me, Yoisen?"

Yoisen nodded and took the offered seat, her eyes meeting Ino's for a brief moment. Ino's gaze was cold, but she said nothing.

Perhaps it was a start.

Sakura picked up the bread knife. "Shall I do the honors?"

"Please." Naruto said. "Everyone knows you're the best with a knife."

She laughed. "Wait to see what I can do to a grown man with even a rusty one."

Toru chose not to comment. Ino's aura of hostility was a compelling reason to keep his mouth shut. As Sakura's knife sliced through the bread, the room fell into a brief but loaded silence.

Hanabi was looking all too amused.

"So." Karin finally said, diving headfirst into the tension.

"So…" Toru echoed. "Uh. When are we planning our next trip to another world, then?"

Ino stared at him. "You just came back from one."

"That wasn't for vacation, however." Toru smiled slightly. "…You know what, I don't mind going solo." He stood up, with slight hope in his eyes. "Actually, I'll be—"

Naruto's hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Nonsense, Toru." Naruto's voice was firm. "Stay for breakfast."

Toru glared back at him.

'You motherfucker — do you think I want to stay for any part of this?'

'Certainly. I'm sure you've heard the rumors.'

'I'm not your foil!'

'Ino seems to think otherwise.'

'I don't care what Ino thinks — she's your wife, dumbass. Jokes aside—'

'You do care. Why are you trying to leave, otherwise?'

'Are you calling me a pussy?'

'I would never.'

Toru continued to glare at him, for a while longer. But he ended up sitting down, too.

Sakura finished slicing the bread and began to pass it around. Each person took a piece, the simple act serving as a temporary ceasefire.

Yoisen cleared her throat. "Is the bread any good?"

Toru nodded. "The bread's very good, thank you."

Hanabi laughed. "You haven't even tasted it, dumbass."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Make me, you pussy." Hanabi countered. No reaction came from Toru. "…Ah, sorry. I meant to call you a skinny twig."

Toru stood up. "Don't call me a fucking twig — I'm not even remotely skinny anymore—"

Naruto sighed. "Keep the foreplay outside, you're ruining my appetite." Both whirled on him, angrily. "…What did I say, now?"

Karin intervened. "Yoisen, these pastries are delicious. Are those a specialty from your hometown, as well?"

Yoisen made a half-hearted shrug. "Those we obtained from artisans."

"...Ah." Karin winced. "The bread's delicious, too. Anyway."

It was stilted, full of awkward silences. Toru threw Naruto a pointed glance, and so did Ino, for similar enough reasons.

Sakura sighed in exasperation. "You're acting like children." She said. "Can't we just go through our meal in peace?"

Ino turned to face her, slowly. "That's rich, coming from you. Remind me, who stirred the pot in the first place—"

Sakura pointed at Naruto, innocently. Naruto stared back, unimpressed.

Yoisen began to rise from her seat. "I suppose this isn't the best time, then."

Ino's voice dripped with saccharine sweetness. "Nonsense. Do stay, Yoisen. Do stay."

"Ino." Naruto simply said.

"What do you want?" She snapped.

He frowned. "I—"

A device beeped.

"…will be right back." Naruto sighed as he read the notification. "Last minute Orochimaru change."

He disappeared without waiting for a goodbye.

There was only silence.

"…I'd rather kill myself again than remain here." Toru declared.

Hanabi slid a kitchen knife toward him, smiling, and ignoring Karin's chiding look.

Toru moved to seize it, but his hand went through both the knife and the table. He settled for glaring at Sakura.

"…You can do that, now?" He muttered.

Sakura shook her head at his inability to grasp simple concepts.

"There is nothing I cannot do, Toru." She said, as she made a growling Ino light her pipe, because she herself was too good to bother holding flame in her own spectral hand. "Pass me the butter."

"So…" Karin began. "Have any of you seen the new play…?" She chuckled to herself. "Well, not that new, it was before—"

"Before we destroyed Earth." Sakura nodded.

"You weren't even here — No matter." Karin sighed. "Remember? We wanted to go see it together, and never managed? No, anyone?"

Hanabi leaned in. "What's the name?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking." Karin said.

"Ah, the elusive play with no name." Ino snarked. "I am sure it is a mystery worth solving."

Karin frowned. "Enough with this, Ino."

Ino met her gaze. "Enough of what? The sarcasm? Or is there something else you're referring to?"

Karin exhaled. "The sarcasm. But if you have another issue, let's hear it."

Ino's gaze swept across the room, landing on each face — Karin, Sakura, Hanabi, softening a bit on Toru, and finally… falling on Yoisen.

"I've made my stance clear. Lines are being blurred, and not in a good way."

Yoisen broke her silence. "Ino, I understand your concerns. I—"

Ino cut her off. "You understand?" Ino managed to make herself angrier, of course. "You understand…? Just like you understand everything…?"

Toru was eyeing the knife with redoubled interest.

"You have no idea!" Ino growled. "And I'm tired of pretending that you do, of your high and mighty attitude."

Yoisen looked at Ino, her eyes calm. "You are right. Perhaps I cannot claim to. But I do know what it means to care for someone, to want to protect—"

Ino laughed bitterly. "Protect him? Is that what we're calling it now?"

Sakura intervened. "Ino, this probably isn't the best time." Karin gave her a long look.

Ino snapped at her. "Just fuck off, Forehead."

"Wow, okay." Sakura sighed. "You're angrier than I thought."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ino asked, somewhat shrilly. "You think? You, who have the emotional range of a—"

Sakura put her good arm on the table. "Well, no. But I guess it would be more fair to put the blame on us, then. She's been pretty fair about this, considering, so I don't think you have a basis—"

"…A basis?" Ino repeated. "Just how fucked are you standards…? Basis? My basis is years of friendship, of love, of sacrifice! What's her basis? A few months of what? Assistance? Trying to get in our bed?"

"Ino, maybe we should at least take five minutes to cool off." Hanabi said.

"Cool off?" Ino's eyes blazed. "I've been cool for far too long. Ever since she came in, actually."

Toru stared at the knife more intensely. Well, he had tried to tell Naruto about how bad of an idea this all was, at some point.

Yoisen, on the other hand, looked decidedly neutral, as though she had expected the possibility. And she remained silent, which was perhaps the only reason Ino didn't completely lose it here and then.

Karin sighed. "Ino. I trust her. We trust her. And even if you don't care for her—"

"I should just smile and take it. At face value. And trust your judgment. Like the judgment that led you to make a pact with cosmic entities without fully understanding what you were doing?" Ino was relentless. "The same way Naruto did?"

Karin looked stung. "That's a low blow, Ino."

"Maybe it's time for some low blows, then. Maybe it's time for some hard truths!" Ino was almost screaming now.

Just then, Toru's communicator beeped. He glanced at it, sheer relief washing over his face. "Distress call. Urgent. I have to go."

Sakura looked at him, puzzled. "Toru, we're in the middle of something here."

Her thoughts conveyed her true meaning. 'Don't go now, for fuck's sake.'

'Trust me, I'd rather face a dozen immortal Madara than stay for this.'

'Take me with you, then—'

'Sorry, but no.'

Toru took note of the coordinates, didn't take the time to shape an intricate portal, and escaped in a flash of dark light.

The conversation spiraled downward from there.

Naruto appeared shortly after, sighing.

"Sorry, it was pretty important." Then he felt the roiling wave of negative emotions in the room.

"Ah."

Hearts of Stone

Edward and Alphonse Elric had been scouring the Central Library for days.

The air was thick with the scent of old parchment. Their eyes were weary but determined, scanning through countless tomes and scrolls. Their quest for the Philosopher's Stone had led them down many paths, many follies.

The room was dimly lit, its walls lined with shelves that held ancient, forbidden alchemical texts.

Perhaps after everything, including losing their bodies, they should have learned a few things about caution.

But it had gone the usual way. Edward's golden eyes had widened as they fell upon a curious looking scroll sealed with a crimson wax emblem.

It looked Eastern, perhaps Xingese in origin.

Edward, of course, had broken the seal. Alphonse had been a bit more reticent, but Edward knew him well, he mostly did that because someone had to.

The scroll was promptly unfurled on a nearby table.

And those… were definitely Eastern characters.

He glanced at Al. Neither of them knew how to read them, of course. Perhaps May…?

And then, when he glanced back at the scroll, Ed nearly jumped. Because the characters definitely appeared in patterns he could read, now.

'We are the Celestial Ring, a collective with the ability to assist across multiple dimensions. Our mission is to maintain balance and offer help where it's critically needed—'

That… was definitely worrying.

"Let's not do that." Alphonse said. "Let's not even touch it, actually."

"…Right." Edward said. "I'm leaving this here, right back where it belongs."

There was a rush of air, an amused noise.

And there was suddenly someone else in the room, a tall man with dark hair. He seemed Eastern.

The man… laughed. As though he hadn't broken the laws of conservation of energy, momentum, and the very boundaries set by the theory of relativity itself.

Ed fell into old patterns, when panicking: he went for a jumping kick.

The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was the inside of a shelf, and Al's strangely expressive armored face.

It was kinda funny, in retrospect. Maybe.

"Allow me to introduce myself." Toru grinned. "I am a dimensional traveler named Toru, from the most amazing clan of illusionists and fire wielders the worlds have known. You can just call me Toru-sama."

Toru smiled to himself.

The short blond teen stared at him. The armor stared at him, too.

Idly, Toru wondered if empty-bodied suits of armor were a normal occurrence, in this world.

In any case, the little blond who had woken up again looked as though he believed he had a concussion. And again, the armor seemed incredulous.

"You're kidding, right?" The little blond asked, crossing his arms. "Toru-sama? The respectful suffix they use in — What kind of self-important—"

"Who am I talking to?" Toru cut him off.

The teen's eyes narrowed. "You're dodging the question. But I suppose that it at least means that you're not with…" He trailed off.

"…With who?" Toru frowned.

"That blond jerk." The teen spat.

Toru's eyes widened momentarily. "Ah, you've met Naruto?" He sighed, casting a sideways glance. "I hate to break it to you, but he and I are on the same side."

The room filled with a silence heavier than even the suit of armor.

"Brother…" The armor in question began. "I really think…"

"That he's got nothing to do with them…?" The teenager finished. "…Yeah, I think so too."

Toru frowned. "…Look, if you keep on being mysterious and saying this and that… I'm not going to be able to help much."

It still beat going home, though.

The tension hung in the air, palpable and thick, as the armor finally broke the silence. "Brother, perhaps we should—"

"Give him a chance to talk?" The blond teen sighed, eyes meeting the eye sockets of the armor. "I'm inclined to agree."

Toru smiled with his eyes. "And here I thought you two would be difficult."

The teen looked at him squarely. "Fine. I'm Edward Elric. This is my brother, Alphonse."

The armor…?

In truth, Toru had thought it was an enchanted tool. He was feeling pretty glad that he had not voiced it out, though.

"Edward and Alphonse Elric…?" Toru mulled over the names.

"Ring any bell?" Edward asked him squarely.

"Nah, not really." Toru smiled. "Anyway, why did you call for help?"

"We didn't need any help." Edward said.

Toru frowned. "Well, of course you did, you just activated the beacon — and it normally works mostly if you need the help."

The specifics were intricate, crafted by minds he deemed far superior to his own. None of them wanted to aid genuinely malevolent forces, after all.

Silence.

Alphonse began. "Brother, perhaps we should—"

"Can you fill out this questionnaire first?" Toru cut him off. "So that I know whether you're evil or not. Don't worry, it's translated to… to… whatever's your language's name."

Edward picked it up and Alphonse the Armor dutifully kept ominous red eyes on Toru. Toru nodded proudly — he and Sasuke had definitely not been that careful at their age.

Then again, it was hard to pinpoint the blond's age — he was pretty short.

"…Did you, at any point in time, join the Akatsuki?" Edward read out loud.

"Ah, wrong side." Toru chuckled. He tapped the paper-looking device twice — it looked like that to avoid scaring off people from less digital worlds.

"…These questions are not much better." Edward muttered. "Do you enjoy causing great evil…?"

Toru nodded. "The questionnaire will pick up your intent, so better not lie." He grinned.

"…Define great harm, then." Alphonse said. "My brother can be difficult."

Edward glared at him.

Toru smiled. "I like you more already, Valvrave."

"What?"

"Nothing."

The door slammed open.

Standing in the doorway was a man with dark hair and piercing eyes, dressed in a crisp military uniform. His gaze quickly swept the room, taking in Edward, Alphonse, and… an unexpected guest, Toru supposed.

The newcomer smelled of smoke, and along with everything else, as well as what Toru surmised to be his charismatic aura, he reminded him a bit of himself. Toru decided he did not like him.

"Fullmetal, what's going on here? I heard raised voices." The man said, directing his words at Edward. "And a shelf falling, too."

"Colonel Mustang." Edward acknowledged, annoyance and relief warring on his face. "You sure have a knack for bad timing."

Mustang's eyes fell on Toru. "…And who might you be?"

"You can call me Toru-sama if you like."

"I don't." Mustang said curtly. "If you don't have the proper authorizations, and considering the fact I don't know you, you probably don't—"

Toru sighed and met his eyes. "Go back to what you were doing."

Mustang nodded once. "I will go back to what I was doing."

The man left.

Both Edward and his Brother in Armor were staring at him, terror obvious in their eyes.

Toru groaned. "Oh, come on, it's only a minor genjutsu. I could do that when I was ten."

…

"Who the hell are you, really?" Edward asked again, and his voice trembled with suppressed anger.

"Man, I just told you." Toru sighed. "I'm here to help, whatever the problem is."

Edward seemed to be getting angry.

"Help?"

"Yes, help."

"Help?" Edward's voice was acidic. "You materialize from thin air—"

"Through a beacon, not from nowhere." Toru corrected.

"—slam me into a shelf—"

"Only because you attacked me."

"—restrain my brother—"

Toru glanced at Alphonse's armor. "Well, he was looking out for you, understandably."

"—do something to Mustang—"

"He's going to be fine in like five minutes."

"—and you expect us to trust you? I have no idea what you want from us at all!" Edward exploded, his patience having reached its limit.

Alphonse was getting nervous. At least that's what Toru thought it was, he could only read stoic people. "Brother, please—"

"Not now, Al." Edward snapped, silencing him.

Sighing, Toru waved his hand, releasing the bindings that held Alphonse. "See? No more restraints."

Edward looked even more skeptical than before, if that were possible.

"I've seen what you can do."

Toru sighed. "…Well, that's a rough start. Is there anything I can help you with right away?" He pointed at Edward's right hand. "Like that robot hand of yours? Unless you want to keep it, maybe…?"

Edward grabbed his right arm, almost protectively.

"Yeah, right." He hissed. "As though anyone remotely sane wants to keep a prosthetic."

"Well, I don't know, man. It's like... your choice." Toru said, considering.

Alphonse stepped in front of Edward. "We've been trying to recover our bodies for a while now." He said tightly. "We know that if something seems too good to be true—"

Toru's eyes softened. "…It usually is."

Toru was behind Alphonse in an instant, almost as if he'd moved through the shadows. "You could have led with that."

Suddenly, the atmosphere thickened, charged with an almost palpable energy. In a split second, Edward vanished from sight.

He simply disappeared.

The worst night of his life came back to Alphonse in a flash, and he began to scream—

Edward reappeared, trembling. His eyes were wide in disbelief as he stared... at his restored, fleshy, human arm.

"As I said, I'm here to help." Toru spoke sincerely.

Alphonse shut up.

Edward was pale and sweaty.

Toru made a displeased sound. "You really should have told me about your leg, too. I thought it was a brace of some sort."

"…Who the hell are you people?" Edward asked shakily.

"You read the message." Toru shrugged. "I'm here on behalf of the Celestial Ring."

…

"Right." Toru nodded. "So if I get this right, this guy who's after you can manipulate matter at the atomic level, create homunculi, which are near immortal life forms, and according to the briefing, intends to absorb the powers of a god — oh sorry, I don't know if you knew about that part yet. Anyway, he's got a Philosopher's Stone inside him, making him nearly immortal as well. And let's not forget, he can perform alchemy, which is not actually alchemy but magic, without a 'transmutation circle,' which is something like a runic glyph, a sealing array... something you usually need in this world to do magic."

"It's not magic." Edward said. "There are rules."

"Magic can have rules, too." Toru countered. "I read some great comics with hard magic systems, actually, and — Okay, maybe that's not the best time. So, this guy is dangerous to you?"

Edward and Alphonse exchanged a glance before slowly nodding.

"I know it sounds crazy." Alphonse said "But—"

"No, no, I believe you." Toru interrupted, saving Alphonse the trouble. "It's par for the course, really."

Edward shook his head. "…He seems undefeatable."

Toru shrugged. "Not really, no."

Edward blinked.

Toru pulled out a pen and clicked it open — the noise had been purposely designed to be satisfying. "Right, so the problems to fix are mostly related to this 'equivalent exchange,' this god you call Truth, complete political corruption, social inequality… Anything else?"

Edward raised an eyebrow, processing Toru's quick summation. "Well, listing them down is one thing. Each of those issues is way too complex—"

Toru capped the pen and pocketed it in his Mindspace. "I didn't expect it to be simple, and it's not. It should take me at least a few hours, even with clones. By then, these idiots should be done…" He trailed off. "…Or dead."

Alphonse continued to stare at him owlishly.

"Now… could you tell me more about that man? Where is he currently based? Does he have any plans that might endanger people — I'm assuming yes, here, but better to cross out unlikely options, of course…"

…

The homunculus Pride slithered through the darkness.

Shadow tendrils extended in all directions as it did so. Pride, who was aptly named, was Father's eyes and ears in the outside world, the same way Wrath was his arm, and Envy his near useless waste of space.

The Promised Day was looming ever closer, and soon Father would become more.

And—

Pride frowned. There was something strange out there. It was something he could not define, something entirely unfamiliar.

Was the moon glowing red—

The Infinite Tsukuyomi took, and Pride knew no more.

…

The homunculus Wrath's 'Ultimate Eye' caught a glint of red.

Wrath found himself standing in a world unlike any he had ever known, yet one that felt eerily familiar.

He was in a beautiful countryside, one he had seen before. One that he knew he had admired once, before discarding it with the rest of his weaknesses.

The sky was a tapestry of crimson and gold, and the earth beneath his feet was solid, unyielding. He was alone, but he felt no loneliness. For the first time in his existence, he felt an overwhelming sense of peace.

There was nothing of the anger that was always so close.

There were no battles to be fought, no orders to be followed, no humans to be despised. Wrath was free to be himself, unburdened by the weight of his role as a homunculus, as a man, as a weapon of war.

He walked through a field of golden wheat, feeling the grains brush against his skin.

He came upon a simple wooden house, warm light spilling from its windows. Inside, he found no one, yet he felt as if he belonged there.

He sat at a table laden with food, but he felt no hunger. He looked into a mirror and saw not the hardened face of a warrior, but the visage of a man at peace with himself.

And then, for the first time, Wrath felt something he had never felt before: the desire for something more than power, more than victory.

He yearned for this peace to be real, to be lasting. He yearned for a life unmarred by the ceaseless conflict that had defined his existence.

…

Envy dreamed that someone, anyone at all, liked him.

It was a dream, of course.

…

Deep in the bowels of his subterranean lair, Father sat on his throne, a construct of alchemical design and dark intent.

His eyes, usually vacant of emotion, flickered for a moment.

He felt something: a ripple in the fabric of his grand plan, a dissonance in the symphony of souls he had orchestrated.

Father felt it first as a whisper — a subtle shift in the energies that connected him to his homunculi, particularly to Pride. It was as if a string in a grand instrument had suddenly snapped, sending discordant vibrations through the entire structure.

"…Something went awry." Father muttered to himself, his voice echoing in the cavernous chamber.

His eyes narrowed, focusing inward, trying to reach out to Pride through the intricate network of souls and shadows that bound them.

But all he felt was a void, a blank space where once there was connection. It was as if Pride had been swallowed by something… immense. He was entirely out of reach.

Just as Father's mind began to race through the possibilities, a new sensation gripped him — something more physical, this time.

A gravitational pull so powerful it seemed to distort the very space around him.

Oh.

His lair, a fortress built on the bedrock of alchemical mastery, began to tremble. The walls groaned, the alchemical symbols etched into them flickering as if struggling to maintain their form.

It was distorting it. Or tearing it apart was more precise, perhaps.

Father rose from his throne, his eyes widening in disbelief.

The sensation intensified, becoming a maelstrom of invisible energy that tugged at the core of his being. It felt as if the world itself was being torn asunder, the very atoms that composed it straining against their bonds.

Then he saw it.

A small sphere of light and darkness, no larger than a child's ball. Flying toward him at a terrible speed.

It was the cause of the ruin, that wretched thing that warped, bent, tore and annihilated, he understood it at once.

It pushed, it pulled, all at the same time.

The gravitational field pulled everything, and then collapsed upon itself due to the immense gravitational force, creating a singularity that obliterated everything within its range.

His philosopher's stone, a swirling vortex of countless souls, churned in turmoil. The screams of the souls within reached a fever pitch, their agony echoing in the depths of his consciousness.

No, not agony. Hope.

They were reaching toward the sphere, toward relief itself. Fighting to die. Oblivion, at last.

And then, for a brief moment that felt like an eternity, Father felt something he had not felt in a long, long time: fear.

It was as if the universe itself had turned against him, its fundamental laws rewritten by a force he could neither comprehend nor counter.

As quickly as it had come, the sensation vanished.

Just as everything else did.

It took him a while to understand it had happened at all, and for him to regain something resembling consciousness again.

Hearing came back first. That was it, his worst nightmare. He was back to having no body.

No matter.

No matter. He would survive — even if he were to be obliterated, he would reform—

"Huh. You're pretty solid, man."

The words warbled in Father's form. He tried to answer.

"Don't—"

"Six Paths: Chibaku Tensei."

…

Toru stared at the impossibly tight sealed stone that fit in his hand.

That guy was not getting out anytime soon, this much was clear.

Now it was time for the less fun part, crawling through the thing's mind to uncover any hidden contingencies.

Only then, he'd be able to dispel the Infinite Tsukuyomi.

Well, it should be fine anyway, he had made sure to weave a very specific, conditional illusion: one that would only last the shortest possible amount of time for anyone who saw himself as human, and linger for others.

The last thing he wanted to do was to cause accidents… or anything else that was likely to happen in this world.

Today turned out to be a decent day, after all. His gravity ball, still awaiting a name, had proven effective, if a bit lacking in precision. But precision hadn't been necessary; the enemy had foolishly holed up in a basement, as they often did.

And if it worked… then it was worth naming.

Toru had his confirmation — and his own high-powered destruction jutsu. He clenched his fist in triumph.

"Take that, Void Palm!"

lensdump:

i/sFW69v : Inequivalent Exchange