Let's get this trainwreck moving.
"You look exhausted," Yuurei said, looking at Temari as she handled administrative work for Sunagakure.
"It's a lot to take care of," the other blonde replied. "Expenses, taxation, legal disputes, mission statements, loan requests…everything under the sun that could potentially need my approval, and everything else that doesn't." Temari slumped in her chair, defeated. "It made me realize why my father never seemed to have time for us, even if I already understood it intellectually."
"We'll do better," Yuurei said. Temari froze, looking at the tall demon for a moment, but he didn't seem to understand the particular weight his words carried to the Kazekage. "You don't have anybody on your staff who can take some of the burden off of you? I remember the Sandaime Hokage having a handful of people on staff to handle different claims and reports. It's how he was able to be so available to the public."
"Suna's a major village, but it's not large." Temari let out an exasperated sigh. "All the manpower we have is better-suited to other tasks, and there's really not much room to deviate. Whether it's the wind and solar farms, the actual greenhouse farms, or missions to bring in revenue, there's something that everyone needs to do in order to keep the village floating as a world power. And…without the Ichibi, we don't have the means to stand on the same stage as the other major hidden villages."
"I don't know Shukaku very well, but I think the opposite is true," Yuurei said. "For the near future, at least. The mark outside of the village contains some of the Hachibi's residual power, and Shukaku will need some time to finish absorbing it." His own consumption of Kurama had gone rapidly, but that was due to his prior partially-human nature and the taboo nature of the extraction—and it had reduced the efficiency of the absorbtion. Depending on the strength of the dead demon, and the strength of the living one, it could take more than a decade to finish consolidating the other's strength.
"But what would make him feel a need to defend us? He's never cared about human affairs, even for the people in the desert," Temari countered. In response, Yuurei walked behind her and placed both of his hands on her shoulders.
"He owes me. It's not a real debt to me, but it is to him, because I gave him a gift he can never repay." Strong hands worked the muscles in the Kazekage's shoulders, and Yuurei could feel the brief pain in the woman's body before it gave way to relaxation. "You're probably right. It's unlikely that he cares for a group of people who left him caged for more than a hundred years. But he knows you're here, and he knows you're tied to me."
"You have an answer for everything, huh? Don't tell me you planned all of this out. Not that far in advance." Temari leaned her head back, shifting the angle at which Yuurei's fingers struck her shoulders.
"Hardly," Yuurei said with a grin. Kneeling down, he moved his thumbs to the sides of Temari's neck and started moving them in broad circles. "I just have some assumptions I'm more comfortable banking on than others."
"Keep this up and I might really fall in love with you, oath or no oath," the Kazekage said. A half-sigh, half-moan passed from her lips a moment later, and the back of her head came to rest against the lower end of Yuurei's rib cage. The growing infernal blood in her veins was singing, relaxing her heart as she closed her eyes in the demon's presence. This sense of warmth and safety was anathema to her, too alien to understand; the desert was hard, and created hard people. The Yondaime Kazekage, her father, had looked after his children out of responsibility more than any feelings of paternity…a truth only amplified by his love of their mother, and his endless grief after she died.
Some small, sentimental part of Temari wanted to imagine that her parents could be happy together in the afterlife, but she knew better. Shukaku had consumed her mother on the night Gaara was born, and Yuurei had butchered her father with enough witnesses to remove any doubt. Demons didn't leave behind any physical or spiritual essence of their victims, save for the slim chance that some residual strength might augment the demon's power. She wasn't sure her father deserved that kind of happiness anyway.
"Okay, that's enough of a break," she said. "As nice as this is, I do still need to get things done."
"Think about what I said, though. I'm not telling you to shirk your responsibilities…I'm saying that you deserve to be more than the person that those responsibilities make you," Yuurei said as he brought his hands away from Temari's body. "Take it from somebody who lived through enough to know: perseverance and survival are not their own rewards."
"Yuurei." All of a sudden, Temari's deep green eyes were staring into the demon's mismatched red ones. Something in that last sentence had bothered her, and she wasn't afraid to let it show on her face. "You know as well as I do that I'm not a stranger to hard times or trauma. I've opened up to you enough for that to go unsaid. Knowingly or not, you're a root cause of some of those traumas. We can't all be like you, carrying enough hate in our hearts to crush the world. Sometimes, focusing on the task at hand is all that keeps us from breaking under the strain of our pain. Sometimes, survival is all that we can manage. I'd think that someone who endured months in a backwater island nation, waiting to avenge his fallen sensei, might know that."
Yuurei responded with a short exhale through his nose, and he turned his face to one side in an attempt to hide his expression from her. In spite of the awkward tension between them, he made no attempt to leave. Finally, after a long enough pause that Temari nearly asked him to leave her office, the blond demon spoke.
"The first man I killed was my childhood hero." The words were perfectly true, and painful, as they came out of Yuurei's mouth. "He was accused of treason. He was guilty. I was the tool he used to commit the crime. I was also the tool that the Sandaime Hokage used to catch him. The fact that I'm here, and not in Konoha, should tell you whose side I ultimately chose. I still live by his last words, because I know the pride he had for me when he said them. And before you ask why I'm telling you this…it's because moving forward after pain and loss is a choice we all have to make. We can't always bring back the dead, but we can honor their memory. I know that the people we've lost aren't comparable, but stymieing yourself like this does nothing for anybody. You, least of all. Please think about it."
Temari thought about reaching for the young Kyuubi as he stood to leave, or apologizing for what she still considered to be a justified anger, but she did neither. Her expression had softened, though, and the tension in her eyes relaxed. For someone who could only tell the truth, or bend it, he didn't always do a particularly good job of talking to people—but he was still attempting to be kind to her, even if he was missing the mark. She would keep that intention in mind, even if she couldn't enjoy the effect it ultimately had. Her deep, emerald eyes watched the back of Yuurei's head as he walked out of her office, and she got back to work once he was gone.
The Kazekage hadn't loved her father in a long time, but she'd done as he asked in everything she did. She had loved her youngest brother, though, even as she feared and cursed him. The two were emotionally inseparable to her; they were linked in life by the death of her mother, and linked in death by the demon who stood above all others.
She could forgive Yuurei for the murder of her father. She'd told him as much, even if she hadn't said those exact words. She'd even gone so far as to consign herself to a fate as the demon's partner—or, at least, one of his partners—if he swore to avenge her brother's death. That decision, made in the height of her grief, had preceded the eventual blame she placed on Yuurei for Gaara's untimely demise. She knew it wasn't truly Yuurei's fault. The Kyuubi held no concerns about fair fights or slaughtering uncountable masses, and Gaara had voluntarily gone out to fight. Still, deep in her heart, a seed of resentment had lingered. Could she really leave that behind?
That question, whether she thought it or not, weighed on her hands as much as her mind. It would take some time before she could be productive again.
"Do you dream?" Yugito asked.
"Are you asking me literally?" Mei whispered a question in response, her voice still weak. The two women sat alone in the Mizukage's room—her original room, in the hotel Kirigakure's ninja had been given. If it were almost anyone else, Fu and Chojuro would have refused to leave her side, but both guards were familiar with the former Nibi Jinchuriki.
"Yes, literally. This isn't a leading question, though. I'm just curious. I used to dream when I slept, but I haven't since, uh…since I came back." Yugito stopped for a second, seeming to reconsider her words. "More appropriately, I know that what I'm seeing aren't dreams—they're visions from the Blessed Lands. Things I've left behind and will never get back. So I guess my real question is, after what you went through, are you the same way?"
Mei took her time as she thought of how exactly she'd word her next statement. It had only been two weeks since she woke from her coma, compared to the month and a half since Yugito had been brought back from death. Their experiences weren't particularly similar, but the Mizukage knew that Yugito was trying to find common ground with her.
"I…" She struggled to speak, and struggled to find the words she wanted to say. Why couldn't she communicate telepathically with everyone? That would be so much simpler than having to endure the weakness of her vocal chords. "I am. The things I see are…" She never finished the sentence.
Yugito frowned, apologetic for bringing up what was clearly a train of bad thoughts. It made sense; she saw visions from beyond the realm of life and death, almost taunted by a sense of peace and fulfillment she would never experience again. Mei, though, was still touched by the psychic violation Itachi had forced upon her. There was little room for doubt that it had scarred her mind, no matter how well she was managing to cover it up. Even Yuurei's inhuman abilities could only do so much to help the redhead.
Acting on instinct—she seemed to be doing that more and more as her life in Yuurei's company continued—Yugito moved her hands to hold Mei's. Three mismatched red eyes met, and the meaning of the gesture was understood. Mei didn't want to talk about the things that happened inside her mind, defenseless as it was behind the wall of sleep, and Yugito didn't want to know. They had found their common ground, or found more of it. And then, without warning, Yugito's face twitched. Sniffing the air, she gave a hard look at the Mizukage, and she wasn't even sure what emotions she was trying to process; Mei was confused at firs,t but the longer Yugito stared at her, the more sure she was that she'd been found out.
"Have you told anyone?" Yugito didn't bother with subtlety. When Mei refused to answer her, it wasn't out of a desire to strain her weak voice. Aggravated by the Mizukage averting her gaze, the blonde continued. "Don't ignore me, damn it. I was the Nibi Jinchuriki. She was a cat. Cats can smell…things. I don't know a whole lot about demons, but I know enough about people, and I was there. I was part of it. So, have you told anyone?"
"...No." Mei's tone, hushed as it might have been, was stern. "Don't."
"Okay," Yugito said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. It wasn't like a secret of that kind could stay under wraps for very long. "But that means I'm not responsible for what happens when he does find out. You really want to deceive a man who can smell lies?"
Mei's face scrunched up, making Yugito worried that she'd crossed a boundary with her question, but the expression was one of concentration. Thoughts and images filtered into the mind of the former Kumo kunoichi, and then words finally settled in their place.
[I don't need to,] the Mizukage laughed telepathically, the delicate sound ringing in Yugito's brain. [He's the kind of man who deceives himself, when it comes to us. Though…that's starting to change.]
"Wait a minute, you can…" Yugito's eyes widened, and she drew her face back from the demoness in front of her. "This is what the two of you have been doing ever since you met."
[Yes.] Mei smiled, and Yugito had to actively resist getting pulled into the warmth of the other woman's expression.
"Motherfucker. I knew it," the blonde woman cursed. "Listen. This isn't jealousy. This isn't even remotely close to that. But what's his justification? Tayuya gets a demon form, you're telepathic, Temari…okay, I don't know about Temari, but I get an enslavement seal? What the hell's with that?"
[Yuurei gave you an indestructible body after you died. When we met the…the other him, in Makai, most of that got taken from you and returned to him. It's why he's so brazen now, compared to before—he doesn't need to hide anymore.]
Yugito knew that statement wasn't completely true. Yuurei had been cautious when re-entering Konoha for the first time in months, and throughout the time their trio had stayed in his family home. Only now, after fully consolidating his demonhood, had he seen fit to act tyrannical. Or was it something else—some attachment to Suna? Yugito was aware that some of Yuurei's few peaceful memories were found in this village. She was the same as him, in that regard.
"He's not invincible or immortal, though. He knows that." The blonde's statement was only met with a nod from her companion.
[That's why he loves, even if he can't bring himself to say it. He has people he can lose, and he wants to protect us. If you're unsatisfied, ask him for something. See what he'll do to give it to you. He gave two of us freedom, and he'll give Temari her revenge. For the price you paid, just like the other three of us, is there nothing you want besides staying at his side? Is there nothing he wouldn't give you if you asked?] Mei's words rang loud and clear in Yugito's mind.
"I…" The blonde's ponytail shook with her head, uncertainty plain on her face.
[What do you gain by holding back? Do you think a demon values restraint?] Mei asked. The more she thought about Yugito's behavior in the face of her situation—and the more she was confronted with it—the more concerned the Mizukage became.
"Maybe it's not about value," Yugito let genuine anger show in her voice, though it wasn't Mei she was upset with. "Maybe it's about trying to prove something. To myself, to the dead…who knows? Who cares?"
[We do,] Mei asserted, her grip on Yugito's hands tightening with a comfortable squeeze. [You have nothing to prove to us. You don't need to worry about worthiness, in his eyes or anyone else's. Anyone who says otherwise will die.]
Mei didn't know who it was that had left Yugito so resigned in her relationships; it didn't matter. She didn't care if it was a parent, a sibling, her twin cousins, or some other member of her extended family. As far as the Mizukage was concerned, they'd committed a grave sin. She would show them no mercy, unless the Kyuubi got to them first.
[I want you to take everything inside of you that is black and loathsome, every criticism and every doubt that someone else forced on you, and I want you to give them to me,] Mei continued. [We will bear them together. We two, we three, we four, we five, and any other friends or loved ones that you have. We only want to help.]
Yugito smiled weakly, with stiff movements in her neck causing the Mizukage to recall the blonde's dead body.
"I appreciate everything you've said and done, and everything you've tried to do," Yugito said, and her smile grew a little wider. "But there's nothing I'll ask of him if it's not centered around Kumogakure. Not right now."
[And what is it about Kumogakure that you would ask him?] Mei was puzzled, though she did her best not to show it on her face.
"When he…when we cross the village gates, when he kills them all and razes buildings to the ground, he can have whoever else he wants. I will be the one to kill my father." Yugito's gaze was piercing, a hateful expression that Mei was all too familiar with on the faces of her enemies.
As the Mizukage stared into those mismatched red eyes, she couldn't help feeling reminded of Yuurei; the Kyuubi's will manifested in Yugito, more than any of his other lovers. Was it because she'd been the first? Because she was the Nibi Jinchuriki before her death? Mei didn't have an answer. She didn't need one, and she wasn't sure there was one.
[Then do it.] Mei's tone left no room for argument.
The only thing that mattered was their collective safety. Hers, Yugito's, Tayuya's, Temari's, and anyone else who called Yuurei their friend. All else was negligible and negotiable.
That final thought-statement made the two-toned redhead pause, considering her role as a Kage and her responsibilies to the greater collection of islands that made up Mizu no Kuni. She'd remained steadfast in her dedication to those parts of her life since before she'd obtained them—was that resolve wavering? Or was that gut reaction simply born from her desire for friendship with the women who loved the same man she did?
She separated her hands from Yugito's, briefly, before wrapping the blonde woman in a hug. Her mind went to the second stage of the conversation they'd just had, and the way Yugito had pinpointed the crux of her secret with a few quick lines of thought. How Yugito was right, that her deception-by-omission would only last for a few more days before signs became too obvious to hide. She was a demon now, an infernal queen of sea and earth and flame. She didn't need to lie to the king of the reborn Makai. They'd exchanged their blood, in one form or another—their bond was absolute and inviolable, and it was the same for the woman in her grasp.
She just wanted to surprise him with a present that only their mutual devotion could deliver.