We found Jin Toshiaki on the sixth floor, upon which the Daimyo resided, lying in the midst of a heap of bodies piled into a side room. I took one look at the slack face of my once teacher, and let out a sob.

"Sensei," I blubbered, not sure which one I was calling out to.

"Yes, Imai-chan?"

I reeled back in shock as the pallid corpse in front of me regained color, opened its eyes and winked at me.

"What the actual fuck?" I cursed, too shocked to reel in my crassness around the honorable advisor. "You're fucking alive?"

Biwa-sensei cuffed me on the back of my head, but I had a feeling that even he was taken aback.

"I was playing possum, as they say," the conniving man told us cheerfully. "I am quite good at it."

"I'd say," Biwa-sensei muttered as we shoved the bodies he was pinned under off of him.

"What are you even doing up here?" I asked, trying to reign in my temper. "What happened to freshening up in your room?"

"Well, I was going to do that," he said nonchalantly. "But when you get to my advanced age, your mental processes start to erode. I was so lost in thought that I missed my floor, and ended up here at the very top."

There were guards along the stairwell. I was absolutely certain of that. I was also absolutely certain that Jin Toshiaki's mental state was as sharp as it ever was. Case and point:

"But never mind me," he said. "We still have an important part to play. Keikokugakure shinobi will be here soon. If we do not want Iwagakure to take the blame for this attack, we must act quickly."

Behind the corpse pile was another, not quite dead body. I recognized him immediately, even with his armor removed, as Miyamoto, the Daimyo's chief retainer and the commander of Fang's samurai.

"He was injured in whatever battle he fought," Jin-sama said gravely. "And badly poisoned. His opponent left him for dead, but he crawled up six flights of stairs in his desperation to protect his Daimyo. I respect his tenacity, if little else. However, he passed out soon after reaching this floor. He had been slowing the flow of the poison with his chakra, but, as he fell unconscious, he lost control. I treated him as best I could, patching up his wounds. But I didn't have time to cure him. I hope…thank kami. He still has a pulse. Did anyone recover my bag?"

Eyes narrowed, I wordlessly tossed him his own weapons pouch. From the lining, he unsealed a large scroll, which seemed to contain a great deal of highly specific medical knowledge, along with a million different miniature storage seals. He also took what looked like a collapsible chemistry kit out of his bag.

I shot Biwa-sensei a questioning look, but his face was set and expressionless.

"That's an anti-Suna preparations kit," he explained impassively. "Something we developed during the last war to combat their unique skill set. It contains the instructions on how to identify and neutralize their deadliest known poisons, and the ingredients needed to do so are sealed inside."

I swallowed dryly, reading between the lines. Iwao put my thoughts into words.

"I don't know much about poisons, sensei," he said hesitantly. "But from what my father has taught me, there is a great deal of variation in their effects, and in the ingredients needed to cure them. Wouldn't a book like that have to be incredibly extensive to account for every possibility?"

"It is incredibly extensive. Not to mention valuable. I believe only a handful of them even exist. It is…fortuitous that Jin-san had the foresight to requisition one."

For a simple bodyguard mission, was left unsaid.

"Fortune favors the prepared," he said blithely, and I wondered just how much of this he'd foreseen. "Genin, please stay with me. Tsuchibokori-kun, it might be best if you receive the incoming Canyon Nin. So that we might best preempt any misunderstanding."

Biwa-sensei's infamy might give the Canyon nin pause long enough to get a word in before they attacked, and he was the only one equipped to survive if they did. They couldn't possibly be blind enough to just not notice the attack at this palace. I bet Suna had done something to draw their attention. They were likely already reeling from their own attack.

"Very well," Biwa-sensei said gravely, and he flickered away. Sighing exhaustedly, I thumped to the ground and crossed my legs. My teammates copied me, and we waited amongst the corpses, anxiously watching Jin-sama work, in silence. It was going to be a long night.

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

Biwa-sensei was able to diffuse the situation with the Canyon shinobi, and Jin-sama was able to save Miyamoto. I didn't understand how either of them managed their respective feats, and I didn't care. All I could do was thank god, the kami, whoever was listening.

We were…let's say detained for the following five days, which seemed to suit Biwa-sensei and Jin-sama perfectly. The accommodations weren't as nice as the palace, but it wasn't a prison. There were no bars on our windows and doors, but there were jonin guards in view (and no doubt out as well).

In that time, the late Fang Daimyo's wife and son arrived. The heir was young, too young to run a nation, and his mother was only a pretty face. They were utterly shaken by the recent events, though I couldn't make these observations until we were allowed to meet with them.

That had to wait until Miyamoto woke from unconsciousness. The Puppet Corps was very thorough, and he was, in fact, the only survivor. Thankfully, he corroborated our stories, and asked for us to meet him at his hospital bed.

"Did you know?" he rasped, and I wasn't sure why he bothered asking. If the answer was yes, why would we tell him the truth?

"Of course not," Jin-sama began. "We—"

"I wasn't asking you," he snapped with a lack of decorum unbefitting of his and Jin-sama's station, and I raised an eyebrow as his gaze locked on mine. "Girl?"

Me? Why did he want to hear it from me?

I looked up at Jin-sama for approval, and he gave me the slightest nod of his head.

"If we expected anything like this, any conflict at all, then this team would not have been assigned this mission," I said, bluntly. "Biwa of the Dust as our sensei or not. We are fresh genin. None of us have even left the village for any significant duration. It was a miracle that none of us were killed. And Iwa wouldn't sacrifice her own like this." I hesitated. "I was certain Suna would retaliate in some fashion,as I'm sure you yourself did. But not this immediately, and not nearly so severely. They were attempting to pin their actions on us. They stated as much. That their timing was so perfect…I have faith in Iwagakure's ability to control information. If there was a leak, it was most likely on behalf of your court, or of Keikokugakure."

The supervising shinobi guards shifted in irritation, but said nothing.

"If you didn't save me, Fang would be in Suna's arms right now," Miyamoto said darkly. "Despite everything they've done to us."

He began to shake, he was so angry.

"I remember what you said that night," he said, as if we were the only two people in the room. "I'm ready now. To tear this world asunder. The Kiwa river…destroy it. I want it gone. Let the rats shrivel up and die for their actions."

I looked back at my team, expecting Jin-sama to say something. To my surprise, no reply came. It was as if he didn't want to remind the samurai that they were there. Biwa-sensei's face gave no hints, and Iwao and Daigo, who had been entirely useless this mission, weren't quite as capable at hiding their thoughts. Both were wondering what exactly the fuck I did to secure the our mission's success, when by all rights it should have failed.

Sand wanted Fang to turn on Iwa. Barring that, they wanted Fang too cowed to move against them. Barring that, they wanted to remove non-shinobi leadership, leaving the rulers of Keikokugakure, who wouldn't want conflict with Sunagakure, to decide the trajectory of the nation. It was inevitable that at least one of those things would occur.

But they didn't. They failed.

"Are you in a position to grant us such permission?" I asked.

He swallowed. "I am the last surviving senior advisor to the late Daimyo-dono. His son is not of age, and not ready to take the throne. Until he is, I have the right to make such decisions."

I bowed my head in respect. "Then your will be done, Miyamoto-dono."

Then, I turned to my team once more. "Jin-sama. Biwa-sensei. I would like to modify the terms of our mission."

Biwa-sensei opened his mouth, then closed it and looked to Jin-sama.

"In what way?" Jin-sama asked.

"I would like to stay and watch over Miyamoto-sama while he recovers," I stated. "On bodyguard detail."

"That will not be necessary, shinobi-san," one of the Keikokugakure jonin said, not even pretending to not eavesdrop. "All our ninja on missions have been recalled. Security in Keikokugakure has never been tighter. Even a great nation wouldn't be able to reach this hospital without an army."

And the mere mobilization of such an army would be taken as a declaration of war by the international stage. And Suna did not have the resources to participate in the war they caused.

"Suna is not my only concern," I stated. "I'm more worried about domestic threats."

"There are no domestic threats that we would not uncover and turn away," the jonin stated, which was likely true. Unless they themselves were the domestic threat I was concerned about.

As I stated, the ninja of Keikokugakure didn't want conflict with Suna. Plus, they relied on the foods produced along the length of the Kiwa, just like everyone else in Fang. I wouldn't put it past them to assassinate Miyamoto to keep the river in existence. I would probably do the same if I was in their position.

"I don't doubt your capabilities, shinobi-san," I said. "And I mean no offense. It's for my own peace of mind. Do you object, Miyamoto-dono?"

Please say no. Please say no.

"I do not," he said, and I gave him a small smile. The Keikokugakure had no choice but to nod in acceptance, their faces stripped entirely of emotion. They couldn't even attempt an assassination with us present. They feared conflict with Suna, but even that would be preferable to conflict with Iwa.

"In that case, Tsuchibokori-kun," Jin-sama said. "Please send word to Tsuchikage-sama requesting a relief team, and a demolitions team. It might also be prudent to inform him of the context."

We hadn't been able to send word to Iwa at all since that shitstorm of a night. We were under suspicion, and held under voluntary house arrest, so everyone back home was entirely in the dark.

Sensei nodded.

"I am going to perform the summoning technique," he stated for the attending shinobi's benefit, and my eyes widened in excitement. He bit his thumb for the blood sacrifice, and I tried to pick out the hand seals he rushed through, but he was too fast. I only saw that it started with I and ended with Hitsuji.

There was a puff of smoke, and a wasp the length of my forearm appeared, resting on the back of his hand.

Ah. Right. I'd totally forgot that Biwa-sensei, and the Tsuchikage himself, were technically members of the Kamizuru. It stood to reason that they'd have personal wasp summons, like the rest of their clan.

The sedate insect had a harness around its thorax, with a leather ring affixed to it. Jin-sama quickly wrote out a message that looked like gibberish but was actually (I assumed) thoroughly encoded, and slipped an identification band around it before handing it to Biwa-sensei. He placed it into the holster, and there was another puff of smoke as it disappeared. There must have been a summoning marker back in Iwagakure—otherwise it would have had to fly back.

"He is notified," said Biwa-sensei, and Miyamoto nodded jerkily. His skin was pallid; though the poison was neutralized, his body was still fighting off the symptoms.

"I also requested a specialist from our village to aid in your recovery," Jin-sama said, proof enough that he shared my concerns. The doctors here couldn't be trusted. "Someone who is intimately familiar with Suna's poisons. But for now, rest easy, Miyamoto-dono. We will protect you."

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

We stayed in Keikokugakure for another five days, until we had been relieved by a team of our fellow shinobi. Two jonin and three chunin. I was sure that Miyamoto would remain under guard until the Kiwa river had stopped flowing, after which we didn't really care what happened to him. I got the sense that he didn't care what happened to himself after that either. All he cared about now was his revenge.

I hoped he'd be alright. No one in Keikokugakure would have any reason to kill him once the deed was done, and though his army of samurai had lost its best, he would be safer once he returned to the capital.

(My concerns were misdirected. Months later, I would learn that, shortly after the demolition of the Kiwa's mouth, Miyamoto would commit seppuku. Fang would enter a decades-long period of turmoil, until the son of the current heir took the throne).

When we finally returned to Iwagakure, Biwa-sensei immediately shepherded us to the Tsuchikage's Palace. No one hassled us as we marched straight up the steps, past Ogre guards, reception desks and shinobi personnel of all branches, until we came upon a great hallway, which looked like it could be part of the White House (if the color scheme was a little different). Unlike the otherwise plain stone that lined every other wall, these appeared to be granite, or some patterned stone like it. Grand paintings hung on the walls, depicting the village itself or its past and current leaders. Burgundy banners stretched between them, matching the carpet on the ground (the rest of the building so far had tile floors), bearing the insignias of the clans and divisions that made up Iwagakure in darker red.

At the end were two grand, darkwood doors, which were varnished to a shine and bore intricate embellishments. Each one looked many times heavier than I currently was, yet Biwa-sensei had no trouble opening them.

I held back a flinch of surprise, because the Tsuchikage was just…there. No visible guards, no assistants to check in with. It was like we had just walked in with no security. I wondered at which point I would have been stopped, if I wasn't accompanied by a grand advisor or the man's son.

Billowing curtains, also burgundy, caressed the floor, framing massive, floor to ceiling windows. In between each of them were magnificent lattices, the diamond-shaped openings filled with too many scrolls to count. To my surprise (and amusement), on several tables and both sides of the enormous desk the diminutive man sat behind were bonsai, all meticulously pruned and elegant. Some were sloped, some pointed straight up. All of them were of different taxonomies.

Guess everyone needs a hobby.

"You've returned," the Tsuchikage said neutrally, peering over a scroll.

"Hai, Tsuchikage-dono," Jin-sama greeted. "We have successfully represented Iwa's interests. The Kiwa is no more."

"So I've heard," he said blandly. "And it only took…what? Warding off the entirety of Suna's Puppet Corps?"

"Unfortunately yes," the elder said, and I wondered if I was imagining the teasing lilt in his voice. "I sure am glad I requested Team Tsuchibokori for this mission."

"All's well that ends well, huh?" Our leader mused, a disgruntled look on his face. "I'm not sure I agree. The murder of a daimyo is no trivial matter. There might be unforeseen repercussions. And I am not thrilled that new genin were exposed to such conditions."

"Yes, I do feel quite bad about that," Jin-sama said apologetically, turning to us. "You aren't too traumatized, though, are you?"

Iwao and Daigo froze like deers in headlights, their eyes never leaving the Tsuchikage. I rolled my eyes internally.

"Not disproportionately," I deadpanned, earning a chuckle from the advisor.

"Excellent." To the Tsuchikage, he said, "it's a miracle our mission succeeded, with everything Suna threw at us. I'm taking this as a great victory."

"You would," the Tsuchikage said in exasperation. "Genin." We straightened. "I would like to offer a formal apology. Mis-designated mission assignments are, unfortunately, not a rarity in our line of work. But this case was…unusually extreme. Iwagakure is not in the business of sacrificing her young, so make no mistake. This will not happen again."

That was definitely a jinx, right?

"You will be compensated, of course," he continued. "This mission's designation will be retroactively raised to A,. Your pay will reflect this change, and you will receive an A-rank Merit, as earned. Or course, you were still limited to the C-rank section of the library due to your rank, but you may break your reward down as you wish. Though I would recommend caution in their redemption. The Merit system exists to encourage mastery over a select few jutsu, rather than passable talent in many. Unlike some other villages, we preach quality over quantity."

That was something I respected. I wouldn't know what to do with a thousand jutsu like Kakashi or Orochimaru anyway. I'd probably forget to use most of them, or second guess my choices in the heat of battle.

Which is why I wasn't planning on breaking down my A-rank, at least passed B-rank. I'd submit all my research to see what Merits I could net. Then I'd get that earth bullet I'd derided a couple weeks ago. It would have come in clutch against Sasori, and I didn't want to be caught unawares again. If I had enough C-rank merits to get more jutsu after that, I would in order to get my money's worth out of the Merit I spent to gain access to the library. Otherwise, everything else would wait.

We gave the man our thanks, and he nodded curtly.

"Normally, I would ask for your personal report after a fiasco of this proportion," he said. "But I'm sure your superiors can fill in all the gaps, so you may be dismissed."

Despite his words, I knew that the breach in decorum wasn't made out of concern for our well-being. The Tsuchikage wanted to interrogate Jin-sama, and he didn't want us to know what the man had been up to for the duration of the Puppet Corps' raid.

"Actually," Jin-sama mused. "I'm not sure we can. Not all the gaps. I've been burning with curiosity all this time, but there's never been enough privacy. What exactly did you get up to while you were separated from the rest of your team, Imai-chan?"

I shot him a suspicious look. Did he really not know?

"You were separated?" the Tsuchikage probed, a deep crease in his brow as he looked at me. I suppose, in the context of everything else going on, it wasn't important enough to be included in the report.

"Hai," I said, slowly. "After the meeting with the Daimyo and his advisors, Jin-sama suggested I get some fresh air. I followed his recommendation, which led to me striking up a rather stimulating conversation with the head samurai."

"A stimulating conversation in which you convinced him to abandon his own lord and then ally himself with Iwagakure?" Jin-sama asked in bemusement.

I jerked at the accusation, and both Biwa-sensei and the Tsuchikage raised an identical eyebrow. Side by side, I could definitely see the family resemblance.

"What?" I repeated dumbly. "No, he didn't abandon the Daimyo. We were attacked out on the engawa."

"In that situation, Miyamoto's first course of action as chief retainer should have been to disengage, and take to his Daimyo's side, leaving his subordinates to delay the enemy," Jin-sama revealed. "Instead, he personally engaged his opponent, Nanase Otsuo, brutally killing him. An outcome I certainly wouldn't have expected from such a conflict, and not one that could be achieved without extreme effort."

I hadn't realized Miyamoto actually won against the jonin puppeteer. Jin-sama must have found that out after the event.

"He was poisoned in the attempt, which was the proverbial nail in the Daimyo's coffin. Not that his presence would have likely changed the final outcome; however, it would have been his only chance. Miyamoto should have avoided his debilitation at all costs to come to his lord's defense promptly, but he didn't. I can only assume that you had something to do with that."

I tried to collect my thoughts. "I can't imagine that being the case," I said, looking up at the wooden ceiling supports in thought. I bet people were hiding up there.

I had a strong sense of Deja Vous, as if I was back in the academy, sitting in one of Jin-sama's specialization classes. He was quizzing me. Even though he wasn't there, he knew the answer. Or part of it, at least.

"Why was it that you wanted me to speak to him in the first place?" I questioned in return. "Don't deny that was your intention."

He raised his hands jokingly in surrender. "I was merely intending for you to remind him enough of his daughter, who had been killed by Suna nin two months prior. My hope was that his projection would convert into sympathy for our cause. But clearly you far exceeded expectations, without even meaning to. As I said, if Miyamoto did his duty, he would have been killed in the defense of his Daimyo—the enemies that personally did the deed put Nanase Otsuo to shame. Our mission would have been a total failure. Instead, he survived. Did you truly have nothing to do with that?"

His daughter was killed. Everything began to fall in place as I recalled the conversation we shared, and I remembered his reactions to my story.

"Knowing that…I guess I understand in retrospect how my words would have yielded that result," I said, softly. It shouldn't have, given my profession, but that…troubled me. Using the death of a child to manipulate someone into essentially killing themself via puppeteer was more distasteful to me than actually pulling the trigger. "But it wasn't intentional. I didn't mean to get him to project his loss onto me. So we'll have to chalk it up to luck, rather than skill."

"Luck is a skill of its own," Jin-sama disagreed. "The samurai was prickly. For you to get him to open up at all speaks to your ability. But I digress. That wasn't nearly the end of your night. How on earth did you manage to kill…what was it? Two puppeteers?"

"Three," I corrected, glaring up at the annoying old man in suspicion. He was very clearly gassing me up. He wasn't even being subtle about it. But why?

"Those were of little consequence," I continued. "They got in my way, so I dispatched them."

That was all there was to it. Those bozos took a back, back, back, back seat to Sasori.

"Little consequence," Ōnoki repeated, his eyes flashing. Oh no, did I do something wrong? Did I cause an international incident?

"Should…should I not have done that?" I asked, warily.

"Not at all," he said. "I am just surprised. From your tone, I assume you're not aware. In Sunagakure, any ninja can learn puppetry. But only chunin are permitted to join the Puppet Corps themselves."

Ah.

"Those weren't chunin," I said immediately, firmly. "I fought chunin puppeteers, and I did not fare well against them. They would have killed me if Biwa-sensei did not step in. The Puppet Corps must have lowered their entry requirements in the wake of the last war."

I wasn't chunin level yet. And if I wanted to survive in this world, I needed my superiors to realize that.

"That is a possibility," he mused. "But still. Your actions may have culled a generation of talented Suna puppeteers. That is quite an accomplishment." He studied me for a moment. "You are not quick to take praise."

I set my shoulders. "I am proud of my accomplishments. But I don't take credit for anything I didn't earn."

There was only one victory that I was proud of that night, which I should probably mention. Sasori would be a huge threat in the future, and I had the rare opportunity to put him on Iwa's radar.

"That being said, there was one opponent I faced who I would like to warn you about," I stated. "A puppeteer around my age. I eventually drove him away, but it was…difficult. My gut tells me he'll be extremely dangerous in the future."

"On what basis?" the Tsuchikage asked, and I couldn't exactly tell him the truth, could I? But I had already come up with a cover. I'd expected to write it in a mission report, rather than deliver it to the Tsuchikage personally, but this would do.

"He arrived with Nanase Otsuo," I pretended to recall. "But even though he was younger and lower in rank, Nanase addressed him respectfully. Honorable grandson, he called him, which seemed to irritate the boy. Nanase wanted to protect him and kill both me and the samurai, but he insisted on fighting."

"Honorable grandson," the Tsuchikage repeated. "Did you get a given name?"

"I did not," I said, which was technically the truth, even though I knew it from my past life. But I couldn't see how I could believably slip that in. Ninja didn't introduce themselves, and no one would call him Sasori if they were calling him "Honorable Grandson." And that title was far more important than the given name. Chiyo was a big deal. She was one of Sand's elites, and though she was rarely seen in the field anymore, she was still considered to be the premier puppeteer in Sunagakure.

"But I have a description, and I looted his puppet. Once I dissect it, I can likely learn more about his capabilities. Already, his skill far surpasses anyone else I managed to defeat that night. He would have definitely killed me, if I wasn't able to utilize the Palace's security measures to ultimately defeat him."

He made a noise of consideration. "Make a report of that dissection and submit it to R&D. It's rare we get our hands on a Suna puppet; most of them blow up."

Sasori was sentimental about his early puppets, wasn't he? But he'd surely learn his lesson after this, and add self-destruct features to any puppets he makes going forward.

R&D submissions meant Merits, so I nodded readily, perfectly content with the order. But there was a lot I could learn for my own benefit about the process, so honestly I would have done that for free.

"I also want a more detailed report from you after all," the Tsuchikage told me. "Since you were not under Biwa's wing the entire time like I thought. But if there is nothing else, you three are dismissed."

Iwao, Daigo and I bowed our heads and left. But as eager as I was to return home, I stopped in the hallway, a respectful distance away from the door.

"What are you doing?" Iwao asked flatly. He was probably mad that I got so much attention from our superiors, which was kinda fair. If our roles were reversed, and I held his perceptions of me, I would probably be annoyed too.

"I'm going to wait for Jin-sama," I stated, leaning against the wall. "You go on ahead."

"Fine," was his reply, and I waited. And waited. And waited. I guess they had a lot to discuss.

Almost an hour later, the door finally opened.

"Imai-chan?" Jin-sama questioned, as Biwa-sensei narrowed his eyes. "You didn't need to wait for us."

"I had some questions for you, Jin-sama," I stated. "Do you have a moment?"

"For my favorite student, of course!" he said jovially. "Let's take a walk."

I nodded as he led me out of the Palace. At some point, without me immediately realizing it, Biwa-sensei slipped away without so much as a goodbye, leaving us to our devices.

"Sensei," I began. "In the hospital, when I spoke to Miyamoto. Was I telling the truth? Did Iwa really not know that the attack was going to take place, then and there?"

"No," he said immediately. "I assumed that some violence would be levied against Fang, but it seems that Suna lost everyone with a brain in the second war. I expected to walk into that Palace and meet with Suna nin in disguise, after they had supplanted the majority of the Daimyo's cabinet and perhaps even the man himself. I expected to walk out of that meeting a failure, only to hopefully turn to the leaders of Keikokugakure with evidence of their deed, which might allow us to use their hidden village as a proxy. We'd sabotage the Kiwa at a later date."

I blinked. "You were just going to walk us into a trap?"

"They wouldn't have dared attack," he said placatingly. "It would have caused an incident. Especially with Biwa of the Dust and myself there. In that situation, it would be the worst move Suna could have made."

I mentally examined his reasoning, and recalled in detail the events precluding the attack. Thank god for chakra, and its ability to stimulate mental processes. Back in my past life, I had a shit memory. But here, it was only getting better and better.

"You said the majority of his cabinet," I identified, and he beamed. "There was one person you knew could not be impersonated."

"This is why you're my favorite student," he said. "You're right. It would have been impossible to impersonate Miyamoto, from a logistical perspective. He had too many duties. Too many skills, too many subordinates who knew him and his mannerisms intimately. He couldn't have been impersonated by Suna, and he was an especially dangerous figure to them. The samurai, if they joined with the Keikokugakure to avenge their lord, would have been a considerable threat to Suna's interests. That's why I wanted you to connect with him."

I took a second to absorb all that. Then, "I have one last question."

He smiled genially. "Go ahead."

"Miyamoto's daughter," I said bluntly. "Was she really murdered by Suna?"

"His daughter and wife were killed, yes."

My eyes narrowed. "That's not what I asked." And he damn well knew it.

"Miyamoto's daughter and wife were killed by Suna," he clarified. "They were afraid of his influence, and wished to cow him. To weaken him. They thought he'd remain shackled by his loyalty to his lord, and perhaps he would have remained so. But then you came in."

I admire your dedication to your family, he said. I wish I could replicate it. Alas, it is too…late. It was too late. His family was already gone.

"Are you just saying that for my peace of mind?" I pressed, and he smiled self-deprecatingly.

"If you'll never believe my answer to your question, why bother asking it in the first place?"

That was a good point, so I thanked him for his time and left. I wanted a hot bath, and a great, big hug from my brother. In that order.

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

AN: Hey y'all! Happy Christmas to those of you who celebrate it! My present to you: a new chapter! And my own present from you? This fic has reached 1k follows on Fanfic! Woohoo! Thank you for all your support. Seriously.

This wraps up the Land of Fangs arc. I'm pleasantly surprised by how well it's been received. I'm also excited to show you how Kasaiki will integrate Suna fuinjutsu into her skillset. I'll be laying the groundwork for several new powerups in the next chapter.

I'm still looking for betas! Please hit me up if you're interested. Discord is PonchOWO.

I don't have a Ptrn. If you've gotten five bucks of enjoyment out of this story, please consider buying my original work on amazon (information in my bio). Between the two sites this fic is posted on, I have over 1500 readers. If even half of you choose to support me in this fashion, I would have considerable bargaining power when it comes to getting future books published. More publishing deals means I can quit my day job, which translates into more time for fanfiction. It's a one time thing, and you even get more of my writing out of it.

Next update will be New Year's Eve! Can't wait. I'll see you then!