"I get it,

It's no good like this.

Is it fine to believe in

My "future self" that I discovered

With these eyes?"

-Niji, Shinku Horou

"Lesson Three," Mamoru began. "Never take your opponent at face value. Always assume your enemy is either a clone, an imposter, or is hiding something that will give them the edge in battle."

In front of him, Naga and Yahiko were in the middle of an all-out spar. Mamoru stood on the water, far enough away to avoid being hit with a stray projectile, but close enough to see everything that happened.

I sat behind him on the grass at the edge of the lake, my legs in the water. The surface glimmered with silver-green scales. Groups of smaller fish had been scared to my corner of the lake and I felt smooth, silky bodies tickling my legs and surging around my feet. The bigger fish were more confident and swam around underneath Naga, unperturbed as he leapt backwards and a stream of water crashed against the surface where he'd been standing.

Lightning-fast, Yahiko pulled a shuriken out of a pouch strapped to his side and threw it before Naga landed, forcing him to block with a kunai. I stretched a hand towards a fish swimming close enough that I could see its black pupils, but it darted away before I could touch it.

Naga lost. I knew it the second his eyes shifted off Yahiko to follow the path of the shuriken. Yahiko had closed the distance between them when I looked up again, before the deflected kunai could hit the water.

Naga's head jerked up and he just barely got his arms up in time to block a punch. Yahiko grinned. His foot connected with Naga's side, and I heard the breath leave his lungs as he stumbled and nearly fell. I winced in sympathy. Yahiko kicked hard.

He managed to keep his hands up, but didn't use the kunai in his left as Yahiko came at him again.

"Why isn't he fighting back?" Mamoru asked without turning around.

Naga took a quick step to the side and Yahiko's fist passed over his shoulder. The punch was too wide. Yahiko's momentum carried him forward, exposing his middle and right side to a counterattack. It wasn't how Yahiko usually fought at all.

I frowned. He was doing it on purpose.

Still, hesitation flashed in Naga's eyes. He flipped the kunai in his hand so the point faced Yahiko, but froze, his body rigid.

"Because he doesn't want to hurt Yahiko," I answered. It was why Naga worried so much about me, why he shoved the kunai in his pocket and leapt back, putting distance between him and Yahiko. He didn't want the people he loved to hurt, and he especially didn't want to be the one causing them to hurt.

Naga threw his hands up and flipped through hand-signs. Snake. Ram. Boar. Horse. Bird—

Yahiko yanked his hands apart and shoved Naga down, hard enough to rock the water Mamoru stood on. The fight was over. I stood as Yahiko rolled off Naga and laid on the water beside him.

"Is it Yahiko?" Mamoru asked himself, rubbing his chin. "Or is it a dislike for harming others in general?"

I shrugged. If it was a stranger in Yahiko's place, would Naga still hesitate? I didn't know. I moved closer to Naga and Yahiko.

"You won't hurt me like you think you will," Yahiko said, gaze on the sky.

I quietly knelt next to Naga, across from Yahiko.

Naga had a hand draped over his eyes. "You don't know that," he said quietly. "I could use too much chakra, or my hand could slip, or—"

Yahiko laughed a little. "You have better chakra control than me," he said. "You'll never use too much by accident."

Naga 's lips twitched as he fought off a smile. "It's different with ninjutsu," he still insisted. "I've practiced Gale Palm enough to know what's too little, but I don't know what's too much."

"And besides," Yahiko said languidly. "Weapons can't hurt me anymore. I'm well on the path to becoming a god, remember?"

Naga lowered his arm slightly, just enough to peek at Yahiko. "I don't want to use kunai or ninjustu against my friends. I never want to use anything I learned to fight you."

Yahiko looked back at him. He sat up with a sigh, shaking his head. "You won't get any better with Gale Palm if you don't use it against other people," he said. "But, how can I keep trying to convince you when you put it like that?"

Naga smiled.

I leaned over Naga and poked Yahiko's arm. "Get the weapons," I ordered.

Yahiko eyed the lake. A fish bigger almost as big as Namekuji floated by, swimming in lazy circles beneath us. "You know," he began, looking up at me. "You could get them yourself."

I poked him harder. "We don't have any extra."

Yahiko shook his head. "Why can't Nagato do it?"

"You hurt Naga," I said simply, gesturing to the red-purple bruise forming on his arm. "So, if you don't, I'll hurt you," I added in the same sickly-sweet tone Konan liked to use when I wasn't listening to her.

Naga was still peeking through his hand, but his smile was bigger than before.

"He hurts me all the time," Yahiko sputtered in protest. "Using weapons and ninjutsu doesn't make a punch hurt more."

"Yes," I said sagely. "It does."

"But—"

I decided I'd talked enough and lunged at him. Naga yelped as I threw myself over him, throwing his arms up to stop me or protect himself or both. Yahiko's eyes filled with alarm. He dropped like a stone. I landed on my hands and knees where he'd been, peering intently down at the water.

I saw a flash of orange hair. Yahiko gave me a salute before he spun and swam towards the bottom.

"You didn't have to do that," Naga said, still a bit cautious. "It doesn't hurt. Promise."

I sat up and poked his chest. "It hurts in here," I told him.

"No, it doesn't," he replied, laughter in his voice.

I pressed down harder. "Deep in here."

"It does not."

"In your heart," I insisted.

"Oka—" The laugh bubbled out of him before he could finish, and I couldn't help the smile as he covered his mouth to try and stifle his giggling.

"Strange Girl," Mamoru called, waving me over when I looked.

Leaving Naga to regain control of himself, I went back to Mamoru, sticking my tongue out. "That's not my name," I said.

"It's a nickname," he said airily.

"You're not allowed to give me nicknames," I muttered.

Mamoru raised an eyebrow, wordlessly asking for an explanation.

Right before he left, Jiraya had given me a nickname. He'd called me a Princess.

When I thought of Mamoru giving me a nickname, I saw Jiraya's back as he walked away, the absence when we went back to the hideout before we made it ours instead of theirs. I remembered the way Naga cried before Yahiko cheered him up. It made me feel something that was almost—but not—anger.

I let out a breath. "You didn't help when I asked you what to pain, so you're not allowed," I said, though I couldn't fake happiness like Konan did.

Mamoru shook his head. "That's what this is about?" he asked. He turned away, leaving me to stare at his back as he walked away, gesturing for me to follow. "If I suggest something, will you let that go?"

I was back there again. Watching someone else leave, too weak and unimportant to convince them to stay. My feet were stuck to the water. My chest felt tight. I knew that this was different, that Mamoru wasn't Jiraya, but it didn't stop how I felt.

Don't leave, I thought. Not again. Notagainnotagainnotagain.

I took a half-step back and, almost without thinking, glanced back. Yahiko was standing on the surface, his shirt folded and full of retrieved weapons. As I watched, he dumped them in Naga's lap and disappeared back underwater.

Konan sat with Namekuji on the far side of the lake, square pieces of paper spread out in front of her. She was trying to make them resistant to Namekuji's corrosive slime the same way she made my flower crown resistant to the rain. I touched the tips of my fingers to the crown on my head.

The tight feeling went away. This time, I knew who my family was. Back then I gave both Jiraya and Tsunade a piece of my heart, and I never realized it until they were returned in worse shape—Tsunade's piece ground into dust beneath her heel, Jiraya's cracked.

I loved Tsunade, because she made one of the people I loved most happy. I believed in Jiraya, as much as I believe in Yahiko.

I smiled. But now I knew better. I didn't have to let Mamoru in like I did with Jiraya and Tsunade. I didn't need to, because I had Yahiko, Konan and Naga. As long as I had them, I would be okay, no matter who became our sensei or who left us.

Mamoru had half-turned back, staring at me, but he didn't say anything at all when I finally skipped over to him.

"It's too late," I chirped. "I already painted over it."

Mamoru gave me a long look, but decided against whatever he was going to say, shifting his gaze away. "Show me the Tiger seal," he instructed.

I did, holding my hands up for him to see.

"Hare," Mamoru said. He waited until I showed me before changing it to, "Boar." Then, "Dog."

"I want you to repeat that sequence in that order until you can do it as fast as me," he said. I followed his hand, watching him flip through half versions of the four seals he showed me. It took him three seconds.

"What's this for?" I asked as I went through each seal. It took me twice as long.

"Those are the signs you need to perform Earth Style: Mud Wall," he answered casually.

I faltered and my hands slipped out of the Boar seal. Earth Style. I stared up at him. "You're teaching me an earth jutsu?"

"Someone has to," Mamoru said. "You wouldn't make a bad taijutsu-specialist. But, right now, that's all you have. You suck at recognizing genjutsu, and you don't know anything beyond Academy-level ninjutsu."

I tilted my head. "Academy?"

Mamoru looked at me. He closed his eyes. "There used to be a place here where kids like you went to learn the basics from people like me," he explained. "It didn't have anything on the Academies in the bigger nations, but it was better than..." he trailed off. "This."

By his tone, I knew what happened to it. What always happened to good places in Ame? War.

I lapsed into silence, concentrating on making my hands move faster. The faster I learned the jutsu, the stronger I would be when we were finally read to take on War.

.

.

.

When Mamoru told me I could stop, my fingers ached.

"Watch closely," Mamoru instructed. He took a step back, went through the four hand-signs, and slammed his hand on the grass. The ground directly in front of his hand cracked and bent outwards, shooting up to form a wall in front of him.

It was as tall as he was and twice and wide. Once it stopped moving and Mamoru straightened, I brushed my fingers against the surface. It was cold to the touch and smooth, without any ridges or bumps. I pushed against it.

It was solid. I couldn't move it even a little.

Mamoru stepped around the wall, tapping the edge with his knuckles. "You know the hand-signs and you know how to channel chakra to your hands. Do that, but keep the chakra focused there while you do the signs. Then, holding your hand like this," he held his hand up, palm facing me, fingers stretched out. "Put your hand on the ground and push that chakra into where you want the wall to be in the ground. The last step is to pull that chakra-enhanced earth into a wall shape."

Mamoru dropped his hand. "It's the simplest earth jutsu I know," he said. "Anyone that can use earth-chakra can do it. The real power of this comes from the user. The more chakra you use, the taller and wider you can make the wall. But you can only do that once you understand how it works. If you try to use more chakra than you need right off the bat, the jutsu won't work."

I nodded. It was the same as learning how to water-walk. Balance my chakra. Don't use too much, but don't use too little.

"Know what you want you want the wall to look like before you push your chakra into the ground," Mamoru instructed. "If you don't, the chakra-infused earth won't take on a definitive form. It'll just be a pile of rocks, or," he glanced up at the rain, "A pile of mud."

I closed my eyes and focused my chakra. It felt like a big body of water, so deep I could slip and fall in it and never be found. It always made me think about the dream I had of the drowning girl. There were earthy undertones that reminded me of smells of thing's I'd never seen before in Amegakure.

Pinecones. Dry soil. Yellow-orange leaves.

I asked Yahiko about pinecones once, but he said they were only in drier places, like Fire Country.

I pushed the thought aside, brow furrowing as I concentrated on guiding my chakra to my hands. It went easily, but in big gushes that were always too much. Using my chakra was hardest for small stuff like this. Stuff that needed balance over power.

Once I'd wrangled my chakra into doing what I wanted, I flipped through the signs, forming the image of a big, sturdy wall like Mamoru's, and slammed my hands on the ground. I pushed my chakra into it, willing the earth to move, to twist into a wall to protect me.

Mud bubbled up in a neat pile.

"Don't be disappointed," Mamoru said when he saw my frown. "No one does a jutsu perfectly on the first try. It'll take a lot of practice before you grasp even the basics. At your level, I'll say you can do it in about two weeks, but only if you work hard."

"No," I said firmly, twisting my fingers together again. "I'll do it by the end of today."

"You'll...?" Mamoru repeated in disbelief.

"You don't have to believe me," I shot him a grin over my shoulder. "I'll just prove you wrong."

Mamoru slowly shook his head. "You won't."

I spun and gave him my fiercest look. "I will," I said. Because it's what Yahiko would do. Because I knew I could, I believed it with ever fiber of my being.

Mamoru stared at me. "Fine," he said with a shrug. "You'll learn I'm right the hard way."

I shook my head. "I won't, because you're wrong," I said.

"Why are you so adamant about this?" he asked, exasperated.

I grinned, all teeth. "Because Yahiko taught me to be stubborn."

.

.

.

Four hours later, I sat on my knees behind the earth wall I created, panting hard. It was only half as tall as the one Mamoru created, but my height. It was wider than I meant it to be, the rain was already whittling away at the edges and my fingers were numb, but I did it.

I propped a hand against the wall and looked up at Mamoru.

He stared at the wall, then looked blankly down at me. Mamoru simply turned and walked away.

I smiled brightly at his back. Naga frowned at me in worry, and it only deepened when he felt my forehead. "You're burning up," he murmured.

It had been so long since I had a fever. I slumped against Naga's shoulder.

Yahiko crouched at the edge of the wall, following Mamoru's retreat. "Yep. You broke him," he confirmed.

"You shouldn't have pushed yourself so hard," Naga said.

"Had to," I mumbled, nuzzling into his warmth. I was shivering, though I didn't feel cold.

Naga turned his head to stare at Yahiko.

Yahiko blinked. "What?"

Naga stared harder. "You're a bad influence on her."

Yahiko leaned back on his heels, looking sheepish. "Ah, come on. You sound like Konan."

"You know she only went this far because you always do."

"Not always," Yahiko protested. "I learned my lesson! I'm still recovering from the last time I overdid it," he held up his right hand and pinched his skin on the back to show Naga the small white line from the chakra burn Tsunade never healed. "It looks like this because you never healed it."

I smiled faintly.

"I didn't know how to heal back then!" Naga said back at him. "And you can barely see it."

"Dismissing my pain just like Konan does, huh?"

"This is about Oka," Naga told him firmly.

"I see how it is."

"Yahiko."

"One time!" Yahiko said, throwing his hands up. "One time—"

"Three weeks ago you slept for a whole day because you wanted to impress Mamoru-sensei," Naga deadpanned.

"Well," Yahiko faltered. "That was different."

"How?"

"It just was," Yahiko said dismissively.

Naga shifted to look behind him, and I saw Mamoru's legs as he stopped beside my brother.

"Back so soon, Mamoru-sensei?" Yahiko asked teasingly.

Mamoru sighed deeply, wearily. "The other one asked me to teach her genjutsu."

"And it went badly," Yahiko guessed.

"I said I would think about it," Mamoru said. "I'm done teaching for today. I've had enough surprises. I don't know what I would do if she picks up my strongest genjutsu in an hour."

No one spoke. Then Yahiko's muffled laugh broke the quiet.

Naga fought a losing battle against his smile. He shifted me around to his back and I looped my arms around his neck.

"Goodnight, Naga," I murmured as my eyes closed.

Naga paused. And then, quietly, "Night, Oka."

A/N: Sometimes I won't write anything for months. Other times I'll write 3k + words in a day. My muse is a fickle thing.