"Slowly as all the birds were to fly, she was up there among in the sky,

For the birds were all covered in white, she had turned just as dark as the night,

She's consumed by the darkness they bore, she shall never wake up anymore,

For she used all the strength she would hold, now her body is finally cold,"

Soleil, Lizz Robinett

I flipped my plank to the red side, glancing at the others around it. Naga's was to the left of mine, Konan's on the right, and Yahiko's next to hers. They were all turned to the red side. Mamoru's plank, beside Naga's, was the only one on white side.

I'd drawn my best rendition of what genjutsu might've looked like to a sensor, all abstract, swirly lines and wiggly shapes. When I showed Konan, she told me that Mamoru was too good at genjutsu to be sensed (when he wasn't half-dead), then she rubbed a finger in the drying remains of my paint and left a thumb-shaped mark on my nose.

I still had to get her back for that. Humming, I moved around to the side of the hideout, peeking in through the window. I huffed when I saw Mamoru sitting at the table, a cracked black cup in front of him. Steam wafted from it. Mamoru said it was Nettle tea, made from leaves he found, dried, then boiled in water.

I shook my head. Mamoru was always forgetting to change his plank to the right side.

Yahiko laid on his back on the floor between the kitchen and the living room, Jiraya's book held above him. The cover glimmered silver, made of at least a dozen fish scales that had been carefully layered on top of each other and stitched together. Jiraya never finished it, but Yahiko had read it so much that the corners of the pages were yellowed.

Naga sat against the wall, beneath the painting of the sun. My scarf was being mended in his lap, dark red thread pooled around him and Namekuji. It wasn't the same bright red that he used to make it originally—he ran out of it a long time ago—but I didn't mind. Naga did though, because he always fixed the holes in a way that hid the dark red.

Konan sat across from Mamoru at the table, mouth moving, and I could almost hear her falsely sweet voice, asking, "Please teach me genjutsu, Mamoru-sensei." It would sound like she was asking when she was really demanding it.

"How long are you going to spy on them?" Namekuji asked.

I felt the small weight on my head shift, and I pressed my face against the glass before the piece of him could crawl down my face. "Did Konan ever make that resistant paper she wanted?"

He decided to crawl down the back of my head, and I squirmed when I felt his slimy body on my neck before he settled on my shoulder. "I can ignore you too," he reminded me.

If I checked, I knew the back of my flower crown would be slimy and crumpled. I moved away from the window. "I wasn't spying," I corrected him. "I was checking to see if Mamoru-sensei was there."

"Why?" he asked, then added, "And no, she didn't."

I gestured to the planks.

His tiny tentacles didn't turn to look. "If there was someone pretending to be one of you, you would have to come all the way outside to check. Why put them out here?"

I flipped Mamoru's plank to the red side. "Because," I stressed. "If we all leave and come back and all the planks are white but someone's here, that means they're an imposter. It doesn't work if they're all inside, because we won't know until after we go in."

"How do you know the one-armed man isn't a fake?"

I paused with a hand against the door. "Because Yahiko and Konan and Naga are here too."

"They could be all fakes," Namekuji said helpfully.

I looked at him. "You're in there too."

Namekuji neither confirmed nor denied this. "I still think it's all a dumb idea."

I slid the door open and stepped inside, quickly pulling it closed so too much rain didn't get in.

"I miss your scarf," he told me as I pulled off a shoe. "It was warm. Why are your shoulders so cold?"

"I'm wet," I emphasized, tugging off the other shoe. Though I hadn't felt cold from the rain since I was really little. I was used to it, like the feeling of grass between my toes and mud beneath my feet.

Namekuji made an exasperated sound at me. "You're really, really bad at noticing genjutsu."

I went still, looking up. Yahiko, Konan, Naga, and Mamoru were all where they were before—except. I stared at Yahiko and waited, but he didn't ask me for the password. Naga didn't look me over for cuts or bruises, though I'd only been fishing.

No one looked in my direction.

"Awful," Namekuji repeated.

"Kai!" I shouted, making the dispelling seal.

In a blink, the room changed, but not by much. Yahiko was sitting up, Jiraya's book gone, asking me what the password was. Naga knelt in front of me, hands on my shoulders. Konan had pieces of paper spread out over the table.

Except.

Namekuji wasn't on Naga's back, half over his shoulder, or in the corner where the thread was. He wasn't on any of the clothing piles around the room either. But he wasn't de-summoned, because the small piece of him was still on my shoulder.

Was it on purpose that he chose right then to crawl back up and make himself comfortable in my hair, reminding me that his presence was solid, real?

"Your hair is warmer," Namekuji said in explanation, before I could ask.

"Kai," I said a second time. The room changed again. Yahiko, standing. Naga, back against the wall, the scarf in his lap and Namekuji leaning against his leg. Konan, leaning over the table, hands pressed against the wood, glaring at Mamoru, whose eyes were closed.

I looked over them for differences, and then, when I didn't find any, I searched the room. How would I know what was real and what was genjutsu?

Naga frowned and untangled himself, but I took a quick step back before he could reach me. Was he real, or another layer of Mamoru's genjutsu?

"Namekuji?" I asked, staring at Naga with wide eyes.

"You're breathing too hard," Namekuji said back.

I blinked.

"And your chakra is agitated," he added. "Un-agitate it. It's bothering me."

I looked up, though I couldn't see him. "You're supposed to tell me whether this is real or not," I complained, but the uncertainty faded.

"Your hair smells like weeds," he responded.

"Mean." Carefully, I took a piece of my hair and gave it a cautious sniff. It smelled like the dew that covered the walls of the hideout, where the rain didn't reach because of the roof but water still gathered. I didn't think it was a bad smell.

Naga turned to Mamoru, brows furrowed. "I know it's important," he said quietly, but in the silence of the room, it was loud. "But I don't want Oka to be part of this anymore. She was so scared, and I hate it when she looks like that. She should wait until she's older."

I wanted to protest, to tell Naga that I was big enough already, but I only thought of how much worse it all would've been if I didn't have Namekuji.

Konan sat back, her full attention on Naga. Yahiko put Jiraya's book down on the counter.

Mamoru took a long sip from his tea before answered. "And if it wasn't me?" he asked.

Naga looked taken aback. "If...?"

"Out of the four of you, Oka is the worst at identifying genjutsu. You and Konan have a natural sensory defense against it. You can find the chakra of the user, or, if you can't do that, you can learn to sense chakra changes in the environment. Yahiko has intuition and an annoying eye for detail," Mamoru continued, voice cool. "Oka is neither a sensor, nor Yahiko. What do you think would have happened if she didn't have Namekuji, I wasn't going easy on her, or I was the enemy?"

Naga looked at me. He deflated. "You could still wait," he protested weakly.

Mamoru glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. "Then you'll have to leave her behind," he said plainly. "She can't help you if she's holding you back."

Naga winced.

My chest burned, nerves lighting up with the sudden and unbearable thought of being left behind. I shook my head hard, denying the possibility, but Yahiko spoke first.

"He's right," he said. His hands were laced behind his head. "I don't like it either," he admitted. "But you have to let her do this. There's no future in my head that doesn't involve all of us stopping the war together."

Naga slid down against the wall and pulled his legs up. "I just don't like seeing her hurt," he murmured. "I want her to be strong, but I wish it was easier."

Mamoru shook his head. "You knew none of this would be easy."

Naga wrapped his arms around his legs. "Not for me. I always knew it would be hard for me," he said. "For Oka."

I didn't understand all of what was said, but I knelt beside Naga and leaned against him. "I love you too, Naga," I told him quietly.

Naga lifted his gaze. His eyes were melancholy.

"I know you worry because you love me," I explained. "But I wish it didn't make you so sad."

Surprise flashed in his eyes. "I'm not sad," he said suddenly, raising his head a bit more, making himself sound confident.

I didn't immediately answer. I closed my eyes and squeezed myself against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, letting it lull me into a state of half-sleep. "Pretending is bad, Naga," I whispered.

He inhaled. His heart skipped a beat, but he didn't say anything at all.

"Got the fish, Oka?" Yahiko asked.

He sounded close, but I didn't hear him move at all. I lifted my head. He was sitting on Naga's other side like he'd always been there, legs crossed.

And then I remembered the small fish I'd piled into a weapons pouch and was currently being squished against Naga's side. Reluctantly, I shifted back and unstrapped the pouch, peering in at the contorted fish, pieces of blood and bone sticking into the fabric.

I handed it over to Yahiko with a smile.

His expression went flat when he opened it. "We have to eat these," he reminded me.

I eyed the red stain on the bottom. "I could get more," I offered. I liked going out to fish. I could swim as deep into the lake as I wanted without anyone worrying for me and look for the small holes in the rocks where the fish laid their eggs and left them. "Later though," I said, with a quick glance at Naga.

Yahiko followed my gaze, eyes blank.

"What?" Naga asked after a few seconds, voice muffled.

"The favoritism is obvious," Yahiko deadpanned. "If I'm sad it's all, 'oh get over it, Yahiko!'—"

"Hey!" Konan called from the table.

"—But when it's you," Yahiko continued, ignoring her. "It's, 'hey, let's shower poor Nagato with attention'."

"Naga deserves it," I said firmly.

Naga peeked up from his arms to watch.

"Agreed," Konan said. "He actually listens to me, unlike you."

The conversation came to an abrupt halt when Yahiko suddenly stiffened. His eyes glazed over, pupils drifting to a point above my head. Konan paused, then glanced at Mamoru, who was making the rat sign.

I frowned, wanting to help him somehow. I pulled Namekuji off my head. "Help Yahiko," I said, cupping him in my palms. If he helped me, he could help Yahiko too.

"I should've moved," Namekuji murmured, and I realized he'd fallen asleep on my head.

I frowned more deeply.

"No," he answered, more awake.

"You would, if it was Naga," I pouted.

"Yeah, well, it's not," Namekuji said. "Isn't he supposed to be learning? What's the point if I break it for him? He can't summon me to help him if it happens again. Nagato can."

"But—"

Naga plucked Namekuji out of my hands and put him on the ground closer to his main body. "He already broke out of, Oka," he said lightly when I looked at him.

I blinked in surprise and glanced around him. Yahiko was scratching the back of his head, eyes closed.

"Eight seconds," Mamoru deadpanned, but seemed more resigned than surprised.

"You didn't use the dispelling seal," I said.

Yahiko didn't answer right away. He was still scratching his head. "The dispelling seal helps focus your chakra, but if you can focus it without it, you don't need it," he eventually explained. He sounded off, somehow.

"Yahiko?" Konan asked quietly. Concern shone bright in her eyes.

Mamoru sighed deeply. "Should I even ask how you knew?"

Yahiko looked up at the roof. "Because of who I saw," he said after a little while. "I only have one family, and they're all right here."

I got up and stood in front of Mamoru, doing my best to look taller than him as I crossed my arms. "What did you do to Yahiko?" I asked, peering down my nose at him.

Mamoru gave me a brief once-over. He took a long sip of his tea.

Yahiko barked out a short laugh. "So, you do worry about me," he teased.

I narrowed my eyes. "No laughing," I said without turning around. "I'm being serious right now."

Mamoru continued to drink, gaze fixed on the wall opposite of me.

Yahiko outright laughed at that.

"Tell him to stop laughing," I told Konan.

"Hmm," Konan glanced back. "I don't know. Him laughing is a good thing, Oka."

"Maybe," I admitted. "But I'm trying to help him. I can't be serious if he's laughing."

"Why not?" Konan asked. "You can just ignore him like I always do."

"Because Mamoru-sensei isn't taking me seriously," I frowned.

Konan propped a chin on her hand, humming again as she gazed at Mamoru, who studiously avoided her eyes. "What'll you do to him if he does answer?" she asked.

"Depends on what he says," I said carefully.

Mamoru lowered the cup. "I'm tempted to answer with genjutsu," he admitted.

"I think you should give it up," Konan said, lowering her voice. "He might really do it."

I ignored her. "Don't make Yahiko sad again," I warned Mamoru. "I bite."

Konan made a spluttering noise. "We don't bite people, Oka!"

"I do," I said simply. I stared at him for another moment, then turned on my heel and went back to Yahiko and Naga.

Yahiko patted the seat beside him, grinning, but I didn't sit.

"No one is allowed to make you sad," I told him.

Yahiko's grin widened. "Where was this compassion when Konan insulted my cooking?"

"Not play sad, but real sad," I clarified.

Yahiko, while he seemed better, still didn't seem right. I crouched down to stare at him. "Tell me to bite him and I will," I told him.

Yahiko laughed again. "Don't scare our sensei away, Oka. We still need him."

"I won't hurt him. Much," I sniffed.

His laugh petered out. He shot me a tiny smile. "You're the best sister a guy could ask for, Oka, really. But don't worry. I mean it. It just surprised me," he said. "It'll take a lot more than that to take me down."

I glanced back at Mamoru, who was in the middle of ignoring Konan's attempts to get him to look at her. I still didn't feel convinced not to bite him.

"When I become a god," Yahiko began. "I'll tell you all about what I saw."

"I think it's better if you don't," Naga murmured, but not unkindly. "Oka and I don't need to know who you were before. It doesn't matter anymore, just like who I, Konan or Mamoru-sensei was doesn't. I know who you are now, and I know who you will be. I wouldn't want to think about someone I'm not anymore, so you shouldn't either."

Yahiko stared at him. Naga stared back. "Don't act surprised. You make speeches all the time."

Yahiko's mouth quirked up at the corners. He leaned back, lacing his hands behind his head. "I just didn't expect it, is all," he said airily.

Naga leaned back into his arm. "I'll warn you in advance next time."

Yahiko smiled.

.

.

.

As Mamoru lifted the empty cup to his mouth and pretended to drink, he wondered what he'd done to pique Konan's interest in genjutsu. He'd run out of tea shortly after putting Yahiko in a genjutsu, but he liked using it as an excuse to not answer questions.

The other three were asleep. Oka had been the first to go, curling over Yahiko's legs and trapping the boy in place. With no other choice, Yahiko had slowly nodded off, head tilted back and his mouth wide open. A pouch that smelled suspiciously like fish was still clutched in his hand.

Nagato had been the last to give in and fought it the hardest, but succumbed to it all the same. His legs were still pulled up, face down in his arm pillow. Occasionally, he would raise his head in a state of half-sleep, insist he had to stay up to make everyone dinner, then his head would tilt back down.

It had been nearly half an hour since Naga last raised his head and Mamoru suspected that he'd finally passed out fully.

That left one. The girl with blue-purple hair making a valiant attempt to glare holes through his head. Mamoru took another pretend sip.

The cup was old, dirty, and the tea didn't taste quite right, but he suspected it was the best he would get under the circumstances.

"Mamoru-sensei," Konan began in that too-sweet voice of hers the second he lowered the cup. "Why won't you teach me genjutsu?"

Mamoru sighed. "You're not ready," he said simply. And she wasn't. She had only just begun to learn how to sense a target within one of his chunin-level genjutsu. She was still learning to identify the stuff without her sensory abilities, and she needed to have a solid foundation before she advanced. Though he suspected Konan knew all this already, being one of four child geniuses and all.

He thought of Oka, her surface level understanding of how Mud Wall worked, and how she'd mastered it anyway. He took a long, invisible drink, half-wishing the cup had been filled with something stronger.

"Isn't it better to learn by doing, Mamoru-sensei?" Konan asked with a smile.

Mamoru imagined a book with that slogan in it. It would be titled, 'The fastest way to end your career as a shinobi or die, for beginners'.

Oka was an anomaly, is all.

"It's better to have a firm grasp on what you're doing," Mamoru countered.

"You don't know a single easy genjutsu that I could learn, Mamoru-sensei?"

"Nothing about genjutsu is easy," Mamoru answered after a generous pretend sip. "You have to be able to subtly alter the environment, the senses of your target, or both at once. It requires a degree of chakra control that you just don't have right now."

Konan's brow furrowed. "I have great chakra control."

"For someone your age," he agreed. "But not for genjutsu. You need to be able to send out so little chakra that it can't be detected, while at the same time being able to alter it at a moment's notice if your target becomes aware of it, is also a genjutsu user, or is resistant to it. If you can't, genjutsu will be all but useless to you in a fight."

"Then teach me, Mamoru-sensei," she chirped. "I know I can't rely on being a sensor all the time, but it's because of it that Nagato and I were able to skip training against genin-level techniques, right? So, I kind of already understand the chakra theory behind it. Enough that I know I can do this."

Mamoru paused, but really should've expected that kind of answer. He still thought it was better for her to first learn to escape a genjutsu if her sensory ability was dampened or would alert another sensor if used but, he begrudgingly admitted, not completely necessary. At least not if he did teach her the most basic, Academy-level genjutsu in his arsenal.

"It'll be harder than anything you've done so far," Mamoru warned her.

"It always is," Konan responded happily.

Mamoru sighed more deeply. "I'll teach you," he finally relented.

Konan's eyes lit up and she cast a quick look at the others. Mamoru suspected that if they were alone, she would've shouted in joy. As it was, he could read the excitement in her body language.

"But, for every lesson, you have to reveal one of your secrets," Mamoru added, watching her pause, brow furrowing.

"My secrets?" she asked.

Mamoru quietly sipped. "Tell me how you made Oka's crown waterproof," he answered.

"Oh!" Konan said. She glanced at Oka. "I coated the outside in a layer of my chakra," she explained simply. "We use chakra as a barrier between the water and our feet when we water-walk, so I did the same to Oka's crown against the rain. It took a long time to get it right, but I'm glad it made Oka happy."

Oh, was that all?

Mamoru shook his head. These kids. "Why didn't it work with Namekuji's slime?"

The slug in question had disappeared into the hallway shortly after Nagato fell back asleep, informing them both that he was going to hunt for the beetles that lived in the walls and beneath the floorboards, despite Mamoru neither asking nor wanting to know that information.

"It was his acid, not his slime," Konan corrected, then gave him a smile. "But you said one question for one lesson, right?"

Fair enough. Mamoru went silent, considering how Konan could improve her control. "Channel chakra to the bottom of your feet like you do when wall-walking," he finally said. "Make it a layer so thin that your foot won't stick to the wall, but it flows steadily beneath your foot."

Konan sat back. After a moment she pressed a foot against the floor, frowning when it stuck once she tried to move it.

"Welcome to Lesson One in advanced chakra control," Mamoru drawled. "When Nagato wakes up, you can practice with him. If he can sense the chakra around your foot even a little, you've failed."

Years of exposure to genjutsu had given Mamoru something of a sixth sense when detecting miniscule changes to the environment or his chakra. But he wasn't a sensor. Never had been and never would be.

He couldn't really tell whether she was doing as instructed, but he knew she wouldn't skip out on training. Not only would it be painfully obvious if she moved onto the next step, but Konan didn't seem like the type to do things in half-measures.

Her unnatural skill with paper attested to that.

A/N: I love Soleil. It'll most definitely appear again.

If you haven't already, check out the companion story to this one called Tilt.