Summary: The bottle that has been holding Tenten's emotions is finally broken, and all the tears, frustration, guilt, and anger have been set free to seep out.

Notes:

Author's note: I'm really conscious of posting this chapter because, you see, here is the scene (a very close version of it) that inspired this whole story. It came into my dreams, haunting me, and started demanding my attention until I finally gave up and started knitting around it. I really hope you like it!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter 24: The Tears That Ought To Fall

Half an hour passed since the foreign shinobi had left. An official break for the night engaged most of the teammates in various of the camping chores. Because no matter what had happened, there were still basic needs to be met, like meals, warmth, and sleep.

After a brief discussion, some of the shinobi volunteered to take on the responsibilities for supper preparation and sorting out the camp for the night. In this case, no spars were needed. All the team leaders voted against it for the occasion.

Chouji started cooking the meal with just a little assistance from Ittan. Temari and Ameno chose to collect flammables with which they were about to make and maintain fire. And soon, a big pot of rice was settled above the timid flames.

The impression of the camp was one of a bee hive — every little bee knew what was needed.

Shikamaru reasoned that it was for the best if he left Tenten to gather herself up before asking her to join. Or not to ask her at all for the time being.

She was sitting aside, far from the rest of the people, hugging her knees. Her mask was lying tossed a few feet away to her right. Her hand was mindlessly squeezing the wig in a state that could be described only as semi-consciousness. She had lashed out at a child. A child, for fuck's sake! She was a tough person but not harsh, nor was she rude by nature. She liked children and was proud to have endless patience with them. Where was that patience when she desperately needed it? How could she let her behaviour take a turn for the worse?

She still couldn't believe how it all came to that point to dig into that boy's wound... to rake out about his mother's death... It was at the very least undignified, and she hated herself for it.

But really… She was wallowing in self-hatred, currently unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Was she really that unstable? So disappointed by Neji's refusal to face her? By his betrayal to die? Still so shattered in pieces that she had lost basic control?

She rubbed her forehead.

Kankuro leaned on a tree trunk, watching in Tenten's direction, but his eyes didn't linger on her shrunken form. His arms crossed over his chest, pressing out a heavy sigh. He was sure that if he wanted to push her off the edge of her almost non-existent self-control, that was the right moment. However, this knowledge didn't do anything to ease the dread crawling inside his mind. Numbing and macabre.

Shikamaru approached slowly, dropping his bag right beside Kankuro's feet. Neither of them looked at the other; there was no need.

"It's safe to do it now," Shikamaru said matter-of-factly.

Kankuro nodded, humming. In a moment, he whispered back. "It's important no one intervenes." His eyes were unmoving and unblinking, staring at the distance of the green ahead.

Shikamaru clicked with his tongue, sticking his mask and wig into the backpack. "I can't promise you that. I can't and won't let any of you suffer severe injury or die. You know that."

Kankuro looked down, meeting the other man's eyes. He could understand that, as a team leader, Shikamaru wouldn't allow any of his subordinates to engage in a serious fight. All details aside, in the worst case, such an altercation could lead to yet another pointless war. Actually, taking into consideration which people were present, in no way would any of them let that happen, even directly against Shikamaru's orders to stay and wait. Both men were well aware of that.

"Very well," the sand shinobi agreed. "Please make sure you prevent only what you have to."

Shikamaru nodded. "No more, no less."

Kankuro remained in his place for a few more minutes. When he finally gathered his resolve, he pushed away from the tree. With heavy steps and an even heavier heart, he walked up to the spot where Tenten had been sitting for some time, hugging her knees with her back to the group. Her lithe body looked small and lonely, curled up on the ground, helpless. The sight of it made his chest ache.

There was a peculiar, even eerie aura around her that almost physically pushed the rest of her teammates away. But Kankuro was a man on a mission, and he wasn't about to be put off so easily.

When he finally stood behind her, his hand trembled just so slightly before he gently laid it on her shoulder. She jolted out of her trance-like state and snapped her head towards him. Kankuro took a step back; both his hands found their way to his pockets.

Her eyes were wide, and it felt as if she was sucking him into a different world. One that he really didn't want in, but he ought to drag her out.

He sighed. "What you did there—" he started.

"It wasn't fair," she interrupted, her voice rough. Her gaze drifted to the grass. "I know."

Kankuro nodded.

"I… wasn't myself," Tenten added under her breath.

He huffed. "You most certainly were yourself. And that 'yourself' surprised me… quite unpleasantly, to be honest."

"Surprised you?" She shifted in her spot, glancing at him. Her eyebrows rose high, and her voice hinted at puzzlement. "Unpleasantly?"

"You haven't, even once until now, struck me as someone who couldn't control her emotions," he clarified. He maintained his calm facade even though his blood was boiling, feeding on the apprehension that was weighing on him. Almost unbearably.

Tenten frowned. Damned she would be if she admitted to him that she'd almost fully lost it. "I can control my emotions."

"Do you realise that lashing out on a child who has been orphaned because of the war is a really unacceptable thing to do?" He was speaking low, making sure their conversation remained private.

Her whole body tensed. "I don't think you're in a position to lecture me, Kankuro," she hissed in defiance.

"Someone has to do it, Tenten," he bit back.

She moved from her sitting position, kneeling instead, and fully turned to him. "I'm really not up to your moral education."

"And that means I should just go away?" He huffed. "Because you are not in the mood of hearing what you have to hear, eh?"

Tenten narrowed her eyes at him. "I warn you, Kankuro, stay out of my business. I'm not joking."

"Neither do I." He leaned forward. "No matter what's happening around you or what you do, you're a kunoichi, and you gotta control yourself!"

"I know what I'm doing!" She raised her voice, making a few of their teammates halt their actions.

The desperation in her eyes hit him hard. He could see her hurt and need for comfort, yet it was important that he stay away and keep metaphorically stabbing and aggravating her more.

"Do you, really?"

She flinched at the bitterness in his tone.

He continued, "You say you know, but your behaviour doesn't show it, and you know it. You can't keep risking other people's, shinobi or not, wellbeing or even lives."

Tenten's eyes bored into his. "What are you saying?" Her voice quivered, unable to contain the emotions that wanted out.

He paused. It was devastating to see her in such a chaotic state. 'The sky is darkest right before sunrise,' claimed the old saying, and he had seen it to be true many times.

"You are not fit for duty. You can't overcome your grief. It clouds your judgement, and that makes you unpredictable, not in a good way. And dangerous for yourself and your teammates."

Upon hearing his words, her jaw dropped. He was accusing her, and there she was, listening and not able to muster a reaction. Slowly, unwittingly, her fingers curled up into trembling fists.

"Kankuro," she threatened, her whole body tensing. "Watch your mouth, Kankuro."

Then he saw it — her already half-shattered willpower was slipping away. He needed to push just a little bit… more. And he knew exactly how to do that.

"I am watching my mouth. There are things you don't wanna hear, but you still need to," he said coldly, keeping his painted face void of expressions.

"Such as… that I should quit being shinobi?" Her breathing heaved, her eyes narrowed, but her pupils enlarged dangerously.

Kankuro forced his hands to stay in his pockets. "Yes. And to remind you that grieving endlessly and refusing to live won't bring him back. He's never coming back. He is dead."

Tenten slowly rose from the ground. "You can't... just say that. He will always live" — she tapped her chest — "here."

"That's too bad." Kankuro looked at her from above, using the difference in their height to distance himself and make her feel smaller. "Because, as much as you worship the ground under his feet, Neji Hyuga has been one hell of an egoistic bastard." She froze, staring at him in disbelief. He continued, "And you're so blinded by his imaginary magnificence that you just refuse to admit it aloud. Because, my dear friend, you know it better than I do."

Her lips moved almost imperceptibly, letting out a hollow-voiced whisper. "What…? What… did you just… say?"

"You claim he loved you. But a man who loves so fiercely, as you say he did, would never say anything before you both step onto the battlefield!"

"Shut up… Or you will regret it..." Her body was already taut; she was set to pounce forward and slice him into pieces. The anger burned brightly all over her features, eyes blazing, ready to scorch him down to ash. The last remnants of her self-control were hanging on a thread.

Kankuro shrugged the warning off. "I think that he never believed that you would survive. He told you that he loved you so he could feel better and live more peacefully. He wanted you to know... before you die."

"No…" The expression of shock was surreal and even scary to some extent.

There they were — tears finally welled up and threatened to overflow the confines of the red rims. Her eyes gleamed ominously with the evening's fading light.

"Then why didn't he brave through? And confessed his love to you before?" His tone was unnervingly quiet, yet firm. The knowledge of the truth about why Neji had kept his mouth shut didn't do anything but make this harder.

Kankuro still believed the young Hyuga had been exceptionally selfish in telling Tenten at all due to the circumstances they were both in, but at the same time, he understood well why he hadn't told her earlier. Twisting that particular information was hurting her; he knew that. It was hurting him too, because Kankuro felt like flatly lying. As for the wild emotions running all over her face, they only gripped his already-affected heart even tighter.

The way she looked at him, with unhindered resentment and… hate, showed him that it was over. If he had some tiny hope that she could be his some day, now that bridge had been burned down, the last fragments crashing on the ground, still smouldering.

"You know nothing," she hissed, stepping away from him.

Their quiet altercation didn't go unnoticed. All the present shinobi left their tasks to sneak closer, forming a wide circle around them. No one jumped in or made any attempt to meddle, but they were still ready to do so if necessary.

"You may delude yourself as much as you want. He was unworthy, and deep inside of you, you know it too." His last words were the last straw — all it took to push her over the edge.

Her scream scared off the birds in the nearby trees, lifting them out of their nests. The air filled up with wing flapping.

Tenten's fingers grazed her waist bag, and even if they still trembled, she took a kunai out, squeezing it in front of her chest. Killer intent rolled off of her, not in waves but in a stream instead. She clearly wanted him dead.

Tenten was resilient, like most shinobi, and could have swallowed down and ignored a lot. She had heard people badmouth Neji and doubt her abilities over the years, but... Kankuro's statement that Neji himself didn't believe she would survive and that he didn't trust her… That the very reason he said "I love you" was out of egoism, and he didn't say it earlier because he didn't actually love her enough? It was just all too much… beyond her limits.

Kankuro had the full right to think whatever he wanted. But he didn't have the right to open his mouth and say a word aloud. He was a low reptile, feeding on her pain and grief, and he deserved a punishment for being one. An overwhelming regret that she ever let this man close filled her chest and made her hate herself as well.

Gritting her teeth, she stepped back — further back. Preparing. Everything else had disappeared — it was only him and her.

Ino's face paled, much like Temari's one.

Shikamaru frowned, staring right at Tenten, trying to assess how far she would go. But as he had promised, he didn't say or do anything to stop her. Yet. His teammates watched both her and his reaction carefully.

"Take those words back," Tenten demanded in a tense whisper, her eyes bored into his face. The first tears finally fell down her cheeks.

Kankuro took his hands out of his pockets and shook his head. "No. I won't."

"Then you'll pay," she informed him with a voice so void of emotion that it was terrifying.

"You won't kill me," he denied.

"But I will hurt you," she mouthed, staring at his face.

Her promise echoed right inside his head. Then… she screamed again, letting out just a little part of her anger, and dashed forward. In the single second until she reached him, Kankuro thought of defending himself. The problem was that everything he was building was going to crumble down and maybe become pointless. If he tried to stop her, she might have the time to come to her senses and not let all of those bottled feelings out. She needed to witness his pain to be able to see her own. So he remained in place, unmoving, waiting...

Her kunai met his knee and sank into the joint with a dull, sickly sound, all the way up to the handle. The edge poked out on the other side with a red fountain.

Kankuro quietly cursed under his breath when his vision prickled, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment. His jaw clenched to hold in the pained groan when she attempted to pull it out. Suddenly she stopped; her hand opened, revealing her coated-in-blood fingers. She looked at them as if she didn't expect to get dirty.

Kankuro didn't move from his spot, all the time trying not to lose footing and fall down. Had he let himself collapse on the ground, she would have killed him.

Puzzlement, confusion, and even empathy were written all over the faces surrounding the scene while their owners' bodies prepared to launch forward and interfere.

Lee stepped ahead, meaning to stop the fight. At the same time, two hands slapped his chest, coming from both sides — Temari and Shikamaru.

"Don't," she whispered.

"Tenten could kill him," Lee countered, frowning. "He doesn't take her seriously."

"It's the opposite, Lee," Shikamaru interjected. "He's taking her much more seriously than... any of us."

Lee looked at his face, his own features twisted in confusion. "What?"

Shikamaru clicked with his tongue and quickly explained, "He used himself as a tool to help her get over Neji's death and start recovering emotionally."

"I… I don't think I understand." His shoulders slumped down. His gaze returned to Tenten. She was still staring at her hand and the red drops that fell heavily on the grass.

"Since the end of the war, she has wrapped herself in grief. She has been bottling it up. To start recovering, she's got to let them out—"

"And Kankuro broke the bottle," Temari interrupted, impatience hinting at her tone.

Lee's mouth formed an 'o'. "But he'll get hurt."

"He's a moron sometimes," she agreed. "But you gotta know something about him. He always weighs out his decisions. Carefully. If he saw no other way, there was probably no other way."

Tenten seemed frozen for a few moments until her gaze lifted up to Kankuro's face. Despite the pain, he had regained his composure and mouthed another "no" at her.

Something in her chest broke. She leaped back, taking out another kunai. Her breathing shallowed, her chest rising and falling quickly.

She stilled before deciding what to do next. "Why are you pushing me? Why don't you just leave me alone? Why do you care?!" Her words were so quiet and bitter that Kankuro read them on her lips rather than actually hearing them.

His own breathing turned into panting, compensating for the sharp pain in a desperate attempt to get a hold of himself. The wounded leg was unresponsive, and Kankuro couldn't feel the ground underneath it. He pressed the tissue around the handle, but the blood kept gushing between his fingers and soaking into his pants.

"Because," he barely uttered through clenched teeth. "You needed someone to push you; you needed someone to care this way."

She surged forward, and this time she aimed for his throat, for a kill — he saw it in her eyes.

It passed through his mind that he might not have thought this through well enough. The danger of getting killed was quite real when he started it all. And it was too late to back off now. His own dignity was at stake, and he had never taken that lightly. But… Would it all end like that? He, the prince of the Sand, one who lived through the Fourth Great War, only to die at the hands of an angry allied kunoichi. Ironically, Kankuro was the very cause of it. Even the thought of it sounded ridiculous… He took in a sharp breath, preparing for the upcoming, untimely end.

Leaning on his experience and assessing her speed and her arm trajectory, Kankuro predicted that the blade would sink into the left side of his neck. He screwed his eyes shut. Less than a second later, a painful burn made his hand twitch, and he reflexively lifted it up to press on the newly-created wound.

A forceful push on his chest interrupted his balance and forced his eyes open. Two hands grabbed his body, helping him remain upright.

Chouji was standing in front of him in a defensive stance, his broad back blocking his sight. Kankuro peered over his own shoulder to meet Ameno's narrowed gaze.

"I got you," she whispered.

"Thanks," he whispered back.

Kankuro had to see what happened, so he leaned to the side. Tenten stood as still as a statue, her eyes downcast. Lee was gripping firmly the hand with which she was squeezing a kunai. One side of its blade was coated with blood, and a small red stain coloured the grass under it. The weapon slipped through her loose fingers and dropped down with a thud.

Without a word, Ino approached her and slowly wound her arms around her in a tight hug. Tenten's shoulders slumped down as her whole body shook with sobs, erupting from her very core. Tears streamed down her cheeks, although she quickly buried her face into Ino's neck. Shaky legs finally gave away, and she was about to fall had her friend not held her firmly.

"Maybe…" Shikamaru offered quietly from his place a few feet away. "Maybe your brother went a bit too far?" he suggested, his eyes assessing the scene in front of him.

Ino slowly kneeled down, carefully bringing Tenten with her, while gently stroking her head.

Temari met Kankuro's gaze and recognised the content, hidden underneath the pained grimace. "No," she replied, stealing a quick glance at Shikamaru. "He went exactly as far as it was needed."

"That is worrying at the least," Raikage A said, rubbing his chin. He stared at the still-open scroll on his desk, reading it for what looked like a third time. "Followers with a fully functioning tracking device," he mumbled. "I can't wait until they reach Kiri and hand in a proper report about all of this."

"Shikamaru was considering there may be a traitor amongst us as well," Karui added, standing taut and squeezing her hands behind her back.

"If that's true, it will be most unfortunate for whoever he or she may be," Raikage growled, his mighty forehead scrunched, a big hand balled into a fist.

Darui reached and grabbed the scroll. His eyes ran over the text in seconds before he returned it and smoothed it on the hard surface. "Shee recommends holding all the people who have access to the group's ID information, starting with the servants at the formal dinner, the innkeeper, the guards..."

"He has suspicions. He promises that he will give more information as soon as it is available." A stroke his short beard. "He may be on something... Atsui, Karui!" He exclaimed, making them both jolt. "Take one of the messenger birds and head back immediately. I'll ensure an escort with you to the docks. Darui, gather a trusted group and go with them."

The man nodded. "I'll be waiting for you two at the gates in fifteen minutes."

Karui and Atsui bowed to their Raikage and exited his office with quick steps. They strode towards the tower and climbed the stairs, running.

"I wonder what happened with the followers," Atsui confided seriously.

Karui snorted. "I'm sure our teammates dealt with them appropriately. No reason to worry."

He frowned. "I'm not worried. I'm just… curious, let's say."

They reached the floor with the cages and went straight to the desk, where the bird caretaker sat. "We will need to take a messenger right away. Now," Karui stated. The man's stern gaze forced her to remain still for a moment, hesitant. "Please," she added.

His features softened a bit. "Do you have permission?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Here," she handed him a note with the Raikage's stamp on it.

"Alright. One bird's coming your way." The caretaker got up on his feet and headed to a cage to his left. "This one could be a bit cranky if she's hungry, so make sure you feed her regularly," he instructed while putting on a protective leather glove, covering his arm up to his elbow.

"Her? Are you sure? They all look the same to me." Karui whispered, puzzled.

"Zarka," he specified, looking at the two shinobi critically. "Her name's Zarka."

"Okay," Atsui agreed with a shrug.

The caretaker nodded, then proceeded to open the cage's door. Making quiet clicking noises with his tongue, he coaxed the small falcon with grey back to hop on his wrist.

Karui grabbed one of the other gloves tossed in a pile on the desk. "You take her," she hissed, throwing it at Atsui. "You have more experience."

He caught it with no issues and, with a very unhappy expression, put it on. The caretaker moved the bird to Atsui's wrist while gently petting it.

"Take two bags of food. Don't risk leaving her hungry. I'm serious." He pointed at the box near the stairs. "The food's there."

Karui lifted the lid and pulled out two small bags of what looked like deep-frozen mice. Her nose scrunched. "Really? How am I supposed to store that carrion?"

The man gave her an incredulous and a bit amused look. "In those," he said, pointing at the pile of scrolls just beside the gloves. "Are you two taking a bird for the first time?"

"Yes," she said.

"No," he claimed together with her.

The caretaker chuckled at them, seeming genuinely entertained. "Alright. I'll give you a sealing scroll" — he paused, squinting his eyes, and decided he would explain how it worked anyway — "where you can keep the meals safely. Do you... know how to do the simplest unsealing?"

Atsui nodded. "I do."

"Good. I'll seal each portion with a different small seal, so you wouldn't have to deal with resealing the excessive portions."

Karui smiled, her whole face glowed in a... softer way. "That's very thoughtful. Thank you."

"No problem. Just give me two minutes, and you'll be all set to go." He grinned back.

Atsui raised an eyebrow. A sly smile made its way onto his lips.

True to his word, the caretaker sealed all the mice with different simple seals in record time. It was obvious that he had done this many times.

When he was done, he approached Karui with a little shy smile. "Here."

"Thank you." She snatched the scroll and put it in her bag.

The man opened and closed his mouth a few times. It looked like he wanted to say something but couldn't bring himself to pronounce the words. "Erm, I didn't catch your names," he said in the end.

Atsui rolled his eyes. "Come on, man! If you're gonna ask her out, do it. We don't have time to hang out aimlessly."

The man's face flushed in intense red as he stepped back.

Karui snapped her head up, her eyes seeking Atsui's first, then drifting towards the poor caretaker. "Am I missin' somethin'?" she asked.

"That one wants to ask you out. So would you just refuse, so we can go?" Atsui nagged.

"I can't refuse him since he never asked!" Karui bit back, ignoring the blush creeping over the man's ears. "And why do you think I'd refuse?"

He sprawled his free hand to the side and almost yelled at her. The bird made a sound of distress and flapped her wings. "Because you're basically dating someone else, that's why!"

Her hands flew to her waist. "How'd you know?"

"I know you far too well! And I'm not blind! Plus, the guy's decent, so I'm not helping you play around."

The caretaker slowly retracted behind the desk, though his face colour turned into a deeper shade of red. He looked like he wanted to hide. But why did the man need to be so rude and expose his intentions in such an insensitive way? And say what he did? He thought she looked cute, kind of, but... For no good reason, he should invite this particular female out. It was just that it was expected of him, so he might have to push through and get it done. Then, after she refused, everything would be over.

"You, prat! It's not your business, alright!?" She tapped her foot on the ground.

Atsui snorted and headed to the stairs with one nervous-looking bird of prey on his wrist. "Waiting for you downstairs. Hurry up…" His last words came from down below, as he had already hidden from sight.

Karui turned to the caretaker with her lips firmly pressed into a line. She heaved a sigh. "I'm really sorry about my... teammate's big mouth."

The man's smile was obviously anxious. "I didn't… want to… cause such a…" He rubbed his nape. "I'm sorry. I just saw you and thought you were really pretty, and—"

Karui waved her hands. "Let me stop you right there. My dumbass of a teammate… is right. I really do... kind of see someone else... I wouldn't accept your invitation, so let's just pretend you never intended to invite me in the first place?"

The caretaker let out the breath that he had been holding since she started speaking. A relief spread all over his pleasant face, together with a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"Everything's good." She flashed him a smile and rushed downstairs without turning again.

The man slumped down in his chair and shook his head. Such weird people...

Ruka chuckled at the childish expression Sagan had when he successfully slid over the scarce water flowing into the underground bed. He had never done this before, and it brought him pure joy, despite the reason he had to use this new ability. She hadn't seen him have such a wide smile since she met him at the beginning of their mission. But Ruka wasn't really surprised that he was doing so well with the chakra control. Actually, to the extent that she had only to help him adjust his footing and posture.

She relaxed a bit, knowing that Sagan would handle the water gliding and wouldn't need her attention all the time. And that was fine because there was a whole night of travel awaiting them.

They arrived at the estuary in the early morning, when the sun had just peered over the horizon. Its orange rays reflected from the boundless expanse of water, making it shiny.

Sagan stood frozen, just staring with his jaw loose. "I don't think I've even seen something so beautiful," he whispered in awe.

"Yes, the sunrises on the coast are breathtaking," Ruka agreed, a small smile tugging at the edges of her lips.

"Do you witness many of them at home?"

She shook her head. "In Kiri, the fog is laying low over the village and the east coast and impairs the view in the morning. But the sunsets are something worth seeing."

Sagan nodded, but his eyes were still drawn to the magnificent picture on the burning disk rising up.

"We have about a half an hour more," Ruka informed him, delicately reminding him they had to go.

"Yeah, sure." He finally tore his gaze and turned it to her. "I'm sorry, I've visited the coast only during the day around noon. I wasn't prepared for... this."

Ruka slowly spun with her nose up and sniffed as if she were trying to catch a trail. "I love how the coast smells at this time of the year," she said, her cheeks reddening. "It's very... refreshing," she added.

Sagan chuckled. "Please… Lead the way."

She straightened her back and pointed to the north-east. "You will be able to take in the sight while we move. Let's go." Ruka leapt up on the rock, bordering the sand, and dashed forward. It was harder and slower to run on the sand, and they were in a hurry.

The trip was quiet and smooth and ended in the secluded forest just over the main road. There was a single pine, the only coniferous tree around, and Ruka's whole attention was turned to it. She stood next to it, caressing the shattered, rough bark while mumbling something incomprehensible under her breath. Then she started measuring the distance north of the pine with steps.

Sagan sat on the ground and watched her with genuine curiosity.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm looking for the right spot," she answered, taking a few more steps before she came to a halt. Turning to face him, there was an apologetic smile on her face. "Sagan-san, I'll have to ask you to turn around and let me" — she blushed and blurted — "blindfold you."

"Excuse me?" He gasped in disbelief.

"I know how this sounds. And I'm very sorry about it, but..." she spoke quickly, leaving her out of breath. "I need to perform a specific technique in order to enter the area. The Kiri Protocols forbid us from sharing this knowledge with foreign shinobi. I'm sorry."

Sagan hummed. Despite the word "blindfold" and the… personal associations it called in his mind, it wasn't an unreasonable request. The hidden villages had secrets, of course, that they didn't want to share with each other. Having something extra up their sleeves could ensure better defence in need. Or offence, for that matter.

"I understand, Ruka-san. Don't worry." He pushed with his hands and turned his back to her.

She approached him, taking out a piece of bandage and carefully wrapping it over his eyes and around his head. He seemed relaxed and trusting. Ruka's heart swelled with delight.

When she was done, she gently squeezed his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she repeated.

He laughed. "It's alright."

Ruka gave him a crooked smile even if he couldn't see her, then busied herself with opening the passage. She stooped down in front of a protruding rock from the ground, placed her hands in the centre, and slid her hands in a lateral direction. Her fingers glowed as they searched for something in particular. A content smile graced her lips when she found a small edge and pushed it up — it turned out to be a panel. It looked like an additional layer of rock, which she opened like a lid. Underneath lay a pure white, smooth surface.

Ruka gathered her hands together, getting ready to perform the needed signs. But before she started, she peered at Sagan — he was sitting on the ground, still with his back to her, unmoving. She knew he was listening carefully in an attempt to perceive what she was doing. The kunoichi nodded to herself and moved her hands in the familiar sequence, allowing her to execute Water Release. Water spilled from her mouth onto the newly-revealed area. The moment the liquid touched the rock, a seal appeared, and Ruka hurried to put her palm in the centre. Small blinking lights spread, following thin lines on the ground, and quickly disappeared in the distance.

She closed the lid — once it clicked into place, it was indistinguishable — and got on her feet. "I'm done," she announced. "We may proceed further. The guards will meet us in a few minutes. Then... you will have to wait for me on the road."

"No foreign shinobi are allowed in the tower?" he guessed.

She nodded, smiling. "These are the rules."

"Could I have my vision back?" Sagan asked hopefully.

"Of course!" Ruka quickly walked to where he sat and removed the blindfold. With a smile, she offered him a hand to help him up. He took it.

"Now?" He looked around curiously.

"Now we wait." She shrugged. With slow steps, she returned to the rock that she had manipulated earlier and sat on it. "It shouldn't be long."

The seal Ruka had activated served as a kind of doorbell and was directly connected to the tower. Basically, the guards there would receive information about where in the area was the active seal and head that way to meet the shinobi requesting access. Only after they checked the identification would they break the illusion of the area and allow those shinobi to proceed to the semaphore tower.

The whole region was protected by a lot of traps, which detonated when someone passed near or walked into them. They didn't hurt or harm; rather, they kept the illusions of the landscape and ensured the safety of the tower's location.

This whole system had worked flawlessly for over two decades, but Ruka had been using it for about five years. Not very often did she use it in the past, but the frequency in the last year had increased. So she knew most of the guards who took regular night shifts.

Ruka looked around in a relaxed, even lazy manner. Her eyes lingered over some little details, as if she saw them for the first time. Truth be told, she did. She used the tower when the information she needed to pass on was very important and there was no other option at the moment. So it was usually during the night and there were no boats available, and running over the water was out of the question due to exhaustion.

She would come here in the dark, transmit the message, and use one of the bunk beds in the "guest room" reserved for visiting shinobi in the tower. Occasionally, she would have tea and chat with the guards. But the next morning, before the water in the teapot had boiled and before the sun peeked over the horizon, she would leave. And passing through this place on her way to the docks... It looked different than it did now — it was still half-asleep, eerie, and mystical. The scenery was still serene. But it looked more hospitable in a way, filled with gentle colours and lively sounds, when it was bathed in the soft late-morning light.

A few minutes after Ruka had sat down, two silhouettes approached from down the road at a quick pace. When they were close enough — a young shinobi around twenty and an older one, maybe around his early forties — she hopped on her feet and greeted them with a single wave of hand. A kind smile graced her face.

A familiar tug at Sagan's chest made him focus more on her face. There was something odd, as if her features shifted slightly, although, at the same time, they remained the same. She was not just pretty when smiling, but really beautiful.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully.

"Yo," greeted the younger one.

"Morning, Ruka-chan." The older one smiled in greeting. "It's unusual to see you at this time of the day."

She grinned, her face flushed with pale pink. "Yeah… It wasn't exactly planned, Hasu-san."

Mentioning the shinobi's name made the younger one snap his head towards his duty teammate. "You know her?"

"I do know her," Hasu confirmed. "If you didn't regularly swap your night shifts with Ren, you would have known her too."

"I'm sorry for not introducing myself properly," she interjected. Her whole face wore an apologetic expression when she turned to the younger man. "I am Shimizu Ruka. My teammate's name is Sagan. He is from Iwagakure."

"Unusual," noted Hasu, raising a brow.

"I'm carrying a message for Mei-sama," she added, ignoring the comment.

"You go pass it on. He" — the younger shinobi pointed at Sagan — "will stay here. Unless you want to leave right away and give us the message to transmit for you," he added.

Ruka shook her head. "Oh, I'm sorry, that won't do."

"You don't trust your own comrades?" he asked with a crooked smile. The bitterness in his tone didn't escape Ruka.

She squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and faced the man without a flinch. Every trace of shyness and cuteness were completely gone. Ruka looked proud and fearless, the complete opposite of her usual demeanour that Sagan had been witnessing until now. When she spoke, her voice didn't waver a bit, "I apologise if that seems rude, but I was entrusted to pass this message personally. That's what I'm going to do."

The three men froze in their spots, not able to react properly. The older one came to himself the fastest, with a chuckle that dispelled the magic of the moment.

He patted his younger teammate's back. "Aoya will escort you to the tower, Ruka-chan. I'll stay here and keep your Iwagakure teammate company."

Ruka breathed in with relief and quickly hid it in a bow. Then, without waiting for another invitation to proceed, she strode ahead.

Aoya remained in his place for a few more moments, just looking after her. Upon realising that she wouldn't turn or wait for him, he ran ahead and caught up with her.

She didn't even glance at him, choosing to focus on the current task while trying to calm her still-fluttering heart. Ruka could stand up to defend what she believed required defence. But it always made her adrenaline jump up and force her body to fall into a state of fight or flight. And she needed some time to recover. It was weird how much easier it was to be brave and proud when she was undercover. Whatever she attempted at being fearless and firm while being herself, it was threatening.

But Aoya didn't just leave her be. He was determined to pry out as much information as he could.

"Do you come over here often?" Aoya asked.

"Maybe… If you could define 'too often' for me, I will be able to answer," she replied, her tone still holding hints of sharpness.

"Once a week?" He tried.

"The last half a year, I've come here about seven to eight times a month at irregular intervals."

He hummed.

"I use the tower only if my message is needed sooner than I can bring it to Kiri and hand it in person," she explained.

"I see… That's why you end up here at night?"

Ruka glanced at him with caution. "Yes."

He nodded. "And what brought a Kiri and an Iwa shinobi together?"

She frowned at the way his question sounded and, mostly, at his tone. "A mission."

"Really? With Iwagakure?" He scrunched his nose in disgust. "That's really unfortunate... to be paired with such a low being." Before she could interject, he continued, "But hey! It could've been worse! You could've been paired with a shinobi from Kumogakure," he said in a low tone, bitterness dripping in it.

Ruka suppressed her primal reaction to snap at him and picked another approach to deal with the situation. "How many cloud shinobi do you know personally?" she asked.

He snorted with derision. "I don't know any. But I do know they are the lowest scrap of shinobi of all Five Great Nations."

She stopped in her tracks, her hands mindlessly balling into fists as she took a deep breath through her nose. Ruka didn't let herself look at the man until she breathed out and succeeded in relaxing her fingers. It took her just a moment to get a hold of herself. Then slowly, she turned to Aoya, who had also stopped and was looking at her curiously.

Her dark eyes bored into his. "I advise you to restrain yourself from such harsh comments about our allies. Especially as you don't have any proof of whether your statement is true or not. I've been paired with five of the cloud shinobi for missions, and I haven't seen anything bad from either of them." Ruka deliberately spared details because it was her current mission. Being careful was never a bad idea.

The warning in her tone set him on alert. He didn't expect such a strong defensive reaction. "Do you sympathise with them that much?"

"I don't deny the qualities of the shinobi from other villages. I sympathise with the few I know personally. They are good people and fine professionals."

The man gave her a look of disbelief, pressing his lips in a firm line, and resumed walking. He remained quiet during the rest of their trip. When they reached the tower, he didn't say anything out of protocol as he took her to the chamber where the message could be sent. He left her there and never showed up again. He had even asked another teammate to see her off to where Sagan was waiting.

Ruka didn't mind either of his actions. She couldn't understand, nor could she accept anyone badmouthing people he didn't know at all. Being away from such a person, be he a mist shinobi or not, was exactly what she preferred.

Thank you, my dear jtoo, for talking with me and listening to my ramblings and complaints. I officially promote you to my Pillar Of Fortitude!

Thank you, Bryan Tong, for betaing this chapter. Your suggestions have made it better, and I am really grateful for your time and efforts!