Saccharine

"What is food to one, is to others bitter poison." — Lucretius

"You're just so thin! We'll have to fix that right up. No child in my care is going to remain stick thin. Why, when I was a young mother, I—"

Kumiko, as it turned out, was a stout middle aged woman with kind eyes and a boisterous personality. From the minute she had burst into our tent, wrenching me from the comforting clutches of sleep, she tittered on about how adorable I was and how excited she was to finally have people to take care of again. Needless to say, it was surprising how perky she was and how quick she was to take us under her wing.

Hina, similarly to me, was bemused by Kumiko's demeanor. Neither of us were used to this blatant friendliness and after Yokoburi and the treatment we received there, it was, well, jarring.

"You poor dears must be so exhausted and hungry after your travels," Kumiko sympathized somewhat ironically, considering she was the one that woke me up, "Luckily, it's about time for our dinner rotation."

My stomach growled menacingly, as if agreeing with her words, and much to my chagrin, Kumiko cooed and pulled me up into her arms in response. With a quick, "follow me," she marched toward the tent exit, with me staring pleadingly at Hina over her shoulder.

Mentally sighing, I gave up trying to get Hina to rescue me after a minute or so of pitiful stares. It was clear by the amused spark in her eyes that she was going to sit back and watch it happen. Kumiko was warm though, and with the cold drizzle pattering down on us from the overcast night sky, I was grateful for that at the very least.

Instead, I settled for scoping out the camp and its inhabitants. Before, I had noticed people running about and gathering together to chat or work under opened tents. Now that night had fallen with its drafty wind, they had begun to cluster into well-lit tents filled to the brim with lively adults and children.

Snapping my attention away from them, I looked forward as Kumiko merrily pushed aside a panel and entered a large tent. My mouth began to water as I inhaled the warm, homey scent of freshly steamed rice and some type of meat. The 'dining tent' or whatever it was called was packed tightly with people jammed into every table and a few even sitting on the floor to eat their meals.

"We're a few minutes late, but oh well. The boys behind the counter won't begrudge an old lady her food," Kumiko winked at us playfully. My eyebrow quirked in amusement – she was hardly old by my standards, but I guess with the low life expectancy rate, the late forties would be considered positively senile in this world.

She tottered over to a long table stacked with bowls of food and smiled warmly at the surly-looking shinobi holding a clipboard full of paper behind the table.

"Good evening, Tarou-kun. Wonderful weather tonight, isn't it?" Kumiko greeted innocently.

"It's raining," Tarou deadpanned, "and you're late. Again."

"Ah," She murmured bashfully, "I wouldn't call it late necessarily – just a bit off-schedule."

"By thirty minutes," he grumbled, leafing through the sheets of paper pinned to the clipboard, "you're lucky I was on duty tonight. Daichi would've turned you away – spiteful son-of-a-bitch."

"Oh, you're just being too harsh on the boy!" Kumiko insisted, "Daichi-kun can be a real sweetheart if you look past his gruff exterior."

"Sweetheart? Right," Tarou huffed, "we must be talking about two different people."

It was at this point that he seemingly noticed Hina and me awkwardly listening to their banter. He surveyed us with feigned interest before dully asking, "Names, please."

Hina shifted a bit closer and bowed politely, "I am Hina, and this is Chieko."

He muttered under his breath, clearly annoyed, as he rifled through the list and found our names, "You're both assigned bigger food portions. Please take a larger bowl at the end of the table." He unenthusiastically instructed us as he pointed in the general direction of the bowls with the point of his pen.

Hina murmured a thank you as Tarou turned to our companion with an exasperated expression, "Kumiko-san, you know what to do. And for the love of God, show up on time for once."

Kumiko smiled sweetly and squished me to her chest happily as she thanked the crabby shinobi, "You're a gift from the gods, Tarou-kun!" She ignored him as he rolled his eyes and ambled further down the table to grab her food along with Hina.

The food was exactly what I expected – rice and some type of meat. Kumiko had finally set me down so we could all carry our food easily and she began to lead us into the heart of the table set up.

It was obvious that there was a divide between the civilians and the shinobi as we got closer. The shinobi were all seated somewhat rigidly together in one corner of the tent, quietly eating or talking amongst each other, whereas the civilians were clustered together at tables and on the floor chattering loudly.

I had expected to sit with the other refugees; it seemed logical considering we were three unaccompanied civilian females. Apparently though, logic was a bit too much to ask for. Kumiko, rather than leading us into the group of civilians, drifted toward the corner with the shinobi.

I shot an alarmed look in my mother's direction, but other than a small, thoughtful frown, she didn't react. As we got closer, my blasted hands began to shake again. The chopsticks that I had grasped in my hand began to rattle audibly against the ceramic bowl of food and if I had been able to focus on anything other than the feeling of dread settling in my stomach, I would've been worried I would drop the food.

Thankfully, Hina snapped out of her thoughts, pried the bowl and utensils out of my hands and let me have a death grip on the fabric of her cloak. I knew, logically, that my reaction was a bit extreme for eating with our supposed protectors (yeah, right) but I couldn't help it. They were too unpredictable, too powerful to be comfortable around.

Even the other civilians seemed to understand the unspoken barrier between us and them. Not Kumiko though. Nope. She waltzed on over to the table with the burliest, most disgruntled-looking hulk of a ninja and plopped down across from him with a smile on her face.

My eyes darted around for an escape route, but before I could exit stage left, Hina walked resolutely over to Kumiko and the shinobi and gracefully seated herself, pulling me along with her. The ninja eyed the three of us questioningly, but didn't say a word. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and stared, clearly waiting for us to say something.

"Daichi-kun, how are you on this fine evening?" Kumiko inquired, popping some rice into her mouth.

The only thought that crossed my mind was: that's Daichi, the supposed sweetheart with a gruff exterior? When Kumiko said that earlier, I had expected something like one of those supposedly badass guys that secretly likes to bake or something in their pastime, not this. This guy looked like he drop-kicked babies and punched kittens when he wasn't busy. And the glower he aimed at us certainly didn't help that opinion.

All Kumiko got in return was a grunt, but she didn't take that as a sign to stop, "I'm glad to hear that you're well. Oh, this is Hina-san and Chieko-chan. They just arrived. Isn't Chieko-chan adorable?"

Inwardly, I cringed at the introduction, fearing that he'd turn his attention to us, but instead he just grunted again, unfolded his meaty arms and began to eat in silence. After a few seconds of me flat-out staring at Daichi, Hina jabbed me in the side with her elbow and gestured for me to start eating.

The food still smelled enticing, but being surrounded on all sides by shinobi and the fact that my hands wouldn't stop trembling drove my appetite away in one fell swoop. Mechanically, I lifted rice into my mouth, losing more than half of it in the process due to the shaking.

Feeling the food hit my stomach within moments renewed some of my ravenous hunger and I gradually grew bolder in my eating until the trembling became minute in my haste to dissolve my hunger. The conversation at the table was maintained entirely by Kumiko with Daichi sitting silently with his dinner, so I could almost completely block out the anxiety I felt in favor of filling my gullet.

I was nearing the end of my meal when Kumiko brought up amicably, "I heard some interesting news on the grapevine earlier today, Daichi-kun. You've been holding out on me, haven't you? Why didn't you tell me you and Tarou-kun would be teaching the little ones for the next few months?"

I didn't even hear Daichi grunt in reply as my mind narrowly focused on those few words: teaching the little ones. My luck was just perfect, wasn't it? Of course I would end up saddled with this guy and the surly shinobi from earlier.

I was ready to settle into a major sulk session when Hina's voice cut across my thoughts, "You'll be teaching the kids, Daichi-san? Chieko-chan is supposed to start tomorrow. Is there anything we need to do to prepare?"

The table was silent for a few awkward seconds as he stared at my mother, and I was about to go back to my brooding when he finally deigned to speak.

"No."

He was a real Chatty-Cathy, wasn't he? I felt the urge to roll my eyes, but I didn't want to find out how this beast of a man would react. He could probably snap me in half with his bare hands and I didn't want to take that chance.

"There's nothing we can do?" Kumiko cut in with a no-nonsense tone.

The man let out a deep huff, probably knowing that Kumiko wasn't going to let it go until she got an answer she considered worthy, "We start on hand signs and kunai throwing tomorrow. Make sure to stretch out her hands and arms."

Kunai throwing? I thought, perturbed. I had already determined that I was going to skate through these lessons that Hina so stubbornly decided to toss me into, but I had expected to start with something simple. You know, like history or stretching. Hand signs were easy enough to botch up – I already had a plan in mind that would surely convince my teachers that I wasn't smart enough to be a ninja. But knife throwing? Who the hell thought it would be a good idea to hand a three year old a knife?

It was official. These shinobi were insane. Even in the bits and pieces of the manga that I could remember, I don't think the kids who chose to go to the academy even worked with weapons until they were at least a couple years in.

Kumiko beamed at him, clearly satisfied and chirped, "Perfect!" Apparently at the end of his patience, Daichi abruptly stood up from the table and loomed over the three of us. With a curt nod, he slunk off, clearly dismissing us.

"Well," Kumiko started while gathering up our bowls, "I suppose we can head over to one of the bigger tents for the evening and introduce you two to some of the other refugees."

I practically leapt to my feet, eager to leave the group of shinobi we were settled near behind. I'd take awkward introductions over more time spent in their company any day.

We ambled out of the tent at a sedate pace, Kumiko waving at the still-surly Tarou on our way out. While we had been seated inside, the drizzle had turned into full-on freezing rain that pelted down on us relentlessly. I began to feel grateful for the cloak wrapped tightly around my shoulders otherwise I would've already been soaked to the bone.

Kumiko lead us a bit further away from the dining tent to a moderately large green tent where the sound of music and laughter emanated. She pulled aside the curtain and yanked us into the tent that was jam-packed with people sitting around and talking. It was so crowded; I wryly guessed that most of the camp was crammed into one tent.

I could see Hina's eyes light up as her gaze landed on the woman from before playing a shamisen in a corner, surrounded by other young women. There were a bunch of kids nearby, so I was unsurprised when Kumiko began to lead us toward them.

Within moments, we were standing in front of the group just as the woman finished her song. "That was lovely as always, Nanami-chan," Kumiko complimented as she shed her cloak and plopped down near the musician, gesturing for us to do the same. "This is Hina-san and Chieko-chan. They just arrived today."

The woman who played the shamisen, Nanami, I suppose, set her instrument down gently and smiled docilely at us, "It is a pleasure to meet you. I hope your journey wasn't too difficult."

I was a bit taken aback by her greeting. It sounded so imperious, like she was welcoming us as guests into her castle. Thankfully, I didn't have to say anything – Hina took care of that.

"The pleasure is ours," Hina returned in the same dignified tone, "You are quite skilled with the shamisen. How long have you played?"

Another bashful smile crossed Nanami's delicate face at my mother's compliment and she bowed her head slightly in thanks, "That is most kind of you to say. I have been playing for seven years, but I still have much to learn. Do you play the shamisen, Hina-san?"

The conversation was flowing rather easily, much to my surprise. Back in Yokoburi, we were both black sheep, always kept at an arm's length by the other villagers. I suppose I shouldn't be shocked that Hina and Nanami seemed to get along so well. They both spoke in the same elegant way – manners impeccable and tones demure.

I was content to sit back and watch their conversation; after all, it had been a while since Hina had looked so pleased with another person's company. Besides, Kumiko was enraptured in a conversation with a sweet-faced woman, so I didn't have to worry about her dragging me off to 'bond' with the other kids.

"I used to play," Hina answered wistfully – a tone she rarely used, "but it has been many years since I last held a shamisen."

There was a comfortable lull in conversation while Hina reminisced and Nanami mulled over her answer. I took the time to study our new acquaintance. She was beautiful in the traditional way, with smooth, light skin and fragile features and while both she and Hina shared the long black hair, Nanami's was more radiant and silken-looking. Quite frankly, I was surprised that she was even in the refugee camp. She seemed more like she belonged with a wealthy family than with the rest of us poor wretches.

"Would you like to play?" Nanami hesitated before gesturing to the shamisen that rested in her lap, "I cannot imagine going for so long without a shamisen."

Hina looked conflicted as she hesitated to answer, "If – if it wouldn't be too much of a burden, I would like to try again."

I'm not sure what she had been conflicted about, but the joy that glinted in her eyes as Nanami carefully handed over the instrument seemed worth the indecision. I don't think I had ever seen her that happy before and she practically glowed with delight, subtly radiant despite her shabby attire and ragged appearance. She was undoubtedly pretty, but the marks of her poverty-stricken life masked it expertly. The malnourishment, the hard labor, and the stress all took their toll.

I watched, fascinated, as Hina took the offered instrument, set it lightly in her lap and stared ponderously at it for a moment, stroking her fingers lightly across the three strings. Gently grasping the bachi, she poised it in front of the strings before pausing and closing her eyes.

A myriad of expressions flitted across her face in the brief second before she began lithely plucking away at the strings with the bachi in a carefully composed song with a winding melody, all the while, her eyes closed.

It was beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful. A surge of emotion welled within me, like a rising tide of joy and love and sadness. Her song was precise and played with a certain care and devotion that only a master of the art could muster. Belatedly, as the song washed over me like water lapping on a lakeshore, I realized that this was the first music I had heard since my rebirth.

Even when I had been an infant, I don't remember Hina doing anything more than humming to sooth me. My time as a toddler in Yokoburi had been similarly devoid, mainly because there wasn't much to celebrate with singing or music in that miserable village.

Perhaps that's why I felt tears coming to my eyes at her song. I was so focused on the way her fingers danced over the narrow neck of the instrument and the deliberate flicks of the wrist on the hand the held the bachi that I failed to notice the tent quiet around us. Distantly, I felt Nanami shift into a stiffer position next to me, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the instrument.

The song was winding its way to the end in a declining scale that settled into my heart like a weight. The bachi plucked the last note, which vibrated resolutely through the tent followed by an almost deafening silence.

Like a clap of thunder, a familiar loud voice boisterously commented, "I didn't know you could play the shamisen, Hina-san!" The comment was quickly followed by an exasperated sigh and a mumbled comment. And, like that, the atmosphere was ruined.

I turned to face the source of the noise, annoyance already beginning to burgeon within me, knowing exactly who had entered the tent. Slowly, the conversations of the groups around us picked up again uneasily as Yahiko meandered his way toward us.

"Yahiko-san," Hina greeted, handing the shamisen back to Nanami with a thanks as the other woman stood up and scurried across the tent like a startled mouse, "who are your friends?"

I felt like a rock settled in the pit of my stomach, almost positive I already knew who his friends were. With no small amount of dread, I tilted my head to look past Yahiko and sure enough, it was them.

Konan was the first person I saw past Yahiko. With her blue hair wrapped into her signature half bun with her origami rose, she looked as beautiful as I remembered. I was a little thrown by her more open expression and youthful appearance though. I suppose this was at a point where she had yet to be beaten down by constant war, death of her loved ones, and Tobi's plotting. The Konan I remembered was stoic, having mastered the façade out of necessity.

Done with my quick scan, I turned my eyes to the man behind her, knowing, feeling, that he was Nagato, without a doubt. He hadn't spoken a word since the trio had entered the tent, but he exuded power that settled like a thick blanket over everyone in the area.

I could tell I was not the only one who had noticed. The other refugees had returned to their conversations, but the strain and weariness was almost palpable. He was not someone to be trifled with.

Slowly, my eyes drifted from his distinctive, bloody red hair and down his proud brow. When I had read about the inspiring Rinnegan back in my senior year, I was impressed, wonderstruck even.

Nagato had easily been one of my favorite characters, even with how easily he cast aside all his morals to help a war-monger take over the world. You know, trifles here and there. I thought he was so admirable in how he revived everyone in Konoha after the battle with Naruto and how he tried so hard to better his country and the world, albeit through not-so-nice ways. Completely disregarding that he had been the one to kill all those people in the first place and that his plan to better the world was to dominate it through destruction.

Unsurprisingly, I was not happy to see him now that he was no longer a fictional character. At all. It's funny, in the worst, most ironic way possible, how easy it is to like the enemy when you're not the one stuck dealing with them. And now, as my brown eyes met his ringed lilac ones, I was terrified.

Now, I'm sure we've all heard those horrendously sappy, sickeningly sweet love stories where the two paramours make eye contact for the first time and it feels like it "lasts an eternity" or some flowery bullshit like that. This gaze shared the eternity trait alright, but there was nothing sweet, or sappy, or even friendly about it.

I felt pinned, like a butterfly in one of those displays that used to make me cringe in the entomology department at my university. His eyes seemed like they could see anywhere and nowhere all at once and they resonated with an ancient knowledge that promised unspeakable strength.

And, just like that, he flitted his eyes away from mine to look at Yahiko, who had plopped himself down uncomfortably close to Hina, pulling Konan down next to him. I inhaled sharply, realizing by the burn in my lungs that I had stopped breathing when I made eye contact with Nagato. Trying to be inconspicuous, I scooted over to Hina and wedged myself tightly into her side, tucking my shaking hands into my lap and out of view. Nagato released a light sigh, probably realizing Yahiko was settling in for a while, and lightly sat next to Konan who smiled faintly at him.

"These are my teammates, Konan and Yahiko," Yahiko introduced, gesturing to each in turn with a broad smile.

"It is a pleasure to meet you both," Hina politely responded, though I could hear the small strain in her voice. I could hardly blame her. I could tell she was a bit unsure of what to say afterward, so I prepared myself for an awkward pause in conversation with a tiny amount of hope that they would take it as a hint to leave.

Yahiko, apparently, had other plans. "I heard that you signed up Chieko-chan for the shinobi lessons. Does she start tomorrow?"

Things were going downhill fast. If I thought dinner was bad with the supposed sweetheart (hah), Daichi, than this was just…I couldn't even find the words for it. The first question that popped into my head was how he was even aware that Hina decided to go with his suggestion. I quickly dismissed that for a more pressing question, because obviously, he was one of the leaders of the rebellion. He could find out whatever he wanted about me and I wouldn't have any say-so. Privacy probably didn't even exist within the vocabulary of a ninja.

That left the more pressing question: Why did he care enough to find out, let alone talk to us about it? That was much more concerning. Didn't he have things to plan? Why would he even bother to hobnob with the civilian refugees if there were more pressing things to deal with?

My mind was actively whipping through possibilities, one after the other, when Hina replied uncomfortably, "Yes. I decided that you were right. Chieko-chan should be given the opportunity to learn how to protect herself." There was a small amount of hesitation as she eyed the three shinobi wearily before she admitted, "Though I still worry that I am not making the right decision."

I could tell her now, it was the wrong decision. But what did a supposed three year old know? I was just surprised that she had admitted her hesitance aloud, let alone in front of these ninja. Maybe she thought they could smell nervousness like sharks and wanted to make sure they didn't think she was plotting something.

Konan, who had quietly listened up until that point, softened her features a bit from their granite-like harshness and attempted to reassure my mother, "There is no way to know until she tries, Hina-san. Our country is in turmoil. It is better for her to know something rather than to be completely defenseless."

Well, wasn't that a nice way of wording it? Hina nodded and agreed politely, though I could tell she wasn't completely convinced. Nagato was still as quiet as a rock, absorbing the conversation and observing us at that point, but I carefully avoided looking at him.

Yahiko, deciding that I had been quiet for too long, turned to me and asked, "How are you feeling, Chieko-chan? Are you ready to start your lessons tomorrow?"

I was quiet for a long moment, just looking at him, hoping I could get away with silence, but a sharp jab from Hina told me I wasn't getting out of it.

"I'm fine," I muttered, grudgingly.

"Chieko," Hina hissed under her breath, "what's gotten into you?"

She then turned to the trio with a slight cringe on her face and apologized, "I'm so sorry about this, Yahiko-san. I don't know what happened. She wasn't this…stubborn back in Yokoburi."

Rather than being offended at my admittedly rude attitude, Yahiko laughed and waved it off, "There's no need to apologize, Hina-san. I understand that this is hard for children to deal with."

Irked a bit at being called a child, despite the fact that I was biologically a kid, I huffed and crossed my arms. Real mature, right? I practically proved his argument right there. There was another round of uncomfortable silence as the sounds of the rain tapping against the tent and the chatter of the others filled the air.

My mother had just opened her mouth to say something when Nagato shot to his feet, eyes focused to his right seemingly looking at something in the distance. His teammates followed in suit at his quick signal. Their faces were grim, and with only Yahiko's quick goodbye, they took off from the tent.

I had the feeling that I didn't want to know what was going on, and apparently Hina felt the same way because she didn't say a word about it. Instead, with practiced ease, she ignored their strange actions, stood up and dragged me over to Kumiko, who was still chattering the poor woman's ear off.

Within moments, we were on our way back to our tent, Kumiko in tow, and I couldn't have been more grateful. The night was a bit more taxing than I had expected, especially considering Yahiko's unfortunate surprise visit.

Speaking of which, I was still suspicious of why he just so happened to pop into the exact same tent we were occupying. I wasn't narcissistic enough to assume it was just so he could talk to us about me joining the shinobi lessons, but there had to have been a reason.

I doubt it was just for willy-nilly social reasons. There wasn't one single shinobi in that tent until they had come in and it was clear that the other refugees were uncomfortable with their entrance. Even if they were the beloved rebel leaders, they were still shinobi, and that made civilians (at least in this war torn country) nervous.

What concerned me was that they might have thought we were suspicious enough to check into for some reason or another. I wasn't exactly happy to be there, but that didn't mean I wanted them to be suspicious of us either. I knew better than to think it'd lead to them just kicking us out.

When we arrived at the tent, Kumiko bustled around, getting ready for bed, but instead of doing the same, Hina sat me down in the middle with her and stared at me sternly.

"Chieko," she began her lecture, "you need to be wiser about where you show your attitude."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she steamrolled over me, "No. I am talking right now. You will not be rude like that again to the shinobi who are providing us food and shelter for free. That was unacceptable behavior."

I shrunk within myself at her scolding. I had forgotten how painful and embarrassing it was to be scolded by a mother. I hadn't really acted out the whole time I had been in Yokoburi because I was content just to be quiet and observe rather than get involved, so I had never had to bear the brunt of Hina's disappointment before. Lately though, I could recognize that I was acting far more stubborn than I ever had before.

Wisely, I didn't try to interrupt again as she continued, "They are the authority here. I won't allow you to act so badly in public again. Do you understand?"

Feebly, I nodded, knowing that I probably deserved the reprimand. That didn't change how I felt though, and as she moved on to having me stretch out my arms and hands carefully before settling into bed, one lone thought lingered as I drifted off to sleep.

There's no such thing as a free lunch.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

A/N: Whew! That was a difficult chapter to write and I'm still not completely sure if I like it. -_- I promised a few of you to have it done before I start spring semester tomorrow though, so here it is!

I know many of you were hoping for the shinobi lessons to start this chapter, and I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it was necessary to have this chapter first to set up future events and transition to camp life. I'm hoping that the appearance of the infamous Ame team will make up for it, but if not, I can promise you that the fun will begin next chapter!

Anyway, I want to thank all of you for being patient with me once again and for your fabulous reviews, favorites and follows! You guys are truly awesome and I absolutely adore reading what you think about the story so far.

That being said, I'll go ahead and not-so-subtly hint that I'd love to hear what you all thought of this chapter! Most of you have pretty good guesses at who her father is, so I'm really looking forward to revealing that in the future! I am very curious to hear what you all think about Hina though. I've been dropping both subtle and unsubtle hints about her and her past for a while, so I want to see if you all caught on to her trail yet. ;)

I hope you all enjoyed and I'm looking forward to hearing from you!

~Amai