A/N: Okay, it didn't happen. We'll get to lunchtime next chapter. This chapter, despite its title, ended up being mostly a bunch of thoughts on the current situation and does not contain much movement towards future events. But I felt like sitting down and being quiet for a while as I wrote it, so here it is.

I looked back at chapter 5 and saw that I'd mentioned Hidan claiming dibs on a carpeted room that faced the afternoon sun. That settles it; his room and the sunroom on the right of the base definitely get the afternoon sun. That means the sun definitely rises from Konan's direction, which is west. I'm actually getting kind of excited to think of what I'm gonna do with that.

:D

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General

Hidan found his reserve of chakra that should be used to preserve life very helpful.

After arguing with Kakuzu, he settled down and demonstrated for Kakuzu what he could do. He twisted his hands and stirred his chakra into a condensed shape, causing it to pulse and produce two images of himself. Kakuzu waved his hand through one, noting how it didn't put up any resistance before dispersing. These images could not affect anything even as much as a light breeze could.

"Long way from doing chores," Hidan agreed. "But you know what's worse? Konan's paper things can work on their own! Go out and do stuff, just like a separate person, except that they don't really have personalities and don't do anything else. Like golems. I need to make mine solid and like that. How the fuck am I suppose to do all that before lunchtime?!"

"These images of yours can't do anything?" Kakuzu asked. It sounded like there was a frown hidden behind his mask.

"Well…" Hidan stopped and blinked. "I only had them do stuff I could actually see, so I could order them around and shit as they were doing it. Wait. How was I ordering them around? What was I doing?"

They both looked up at the remaining image, which was standing there. It blinked, periodically swallowed, by all appearances looked like Hidan, but its actions were as if it had been frozen in time, forever preserved at the instant just before Hidan would have gotten bored with standing around doing nothing. It didn't look vacant or expressionless; it just looked as if it was somehow enjoying itself exactly as much as it had been enjoying itself before. That wasn't natural.

"I'm gonna try to think at it," Hidan declared. He concentrated on his clone and shaped his normally formless thoughts into words. Hey. You. My image. Walk around the desk.

Nothing happened.

"I'll try doing that, while tossing chakra at it," he declared. Hey. You. Walk around the desk. Hidan pulsed chakra outwards with each word. The last pulse, he made tilt to the right, like an unsubtle head nudge.

The clone stumbled a bit to Hidan's right, but did not do anything purposeful. It was more like an instinctual reaction to being pushed.

Hidan rubbed his chin. "Have I ever made these things do different shit after they were made? I kinda just made them as soon as I knew I needed them." He got up and dispersed the clone. "Lemme try making one now that I know what I want it to do."

This clone, once made, walked around the desk easily, stopping exactly where Hidan had imagined it stopping, even though all he had actually thought to it was, Okay new guy, you're going to have to walk around the desk once you exist. He hadn't specified where to stop. Hidan stared at it in amazement. Wait, do these things actually have access to everything I know? That's the only way he could've known what I meant!

Hidan raced over to disperse this clone. "Okay, Kakuzu, new idea."

Samehada trilled happily. Kakuzu sighed. He wasn't going to get anything useful done until lunchtime, was he? "What?"

"I'm gonna go into the kitchen, and send a clone out to have a conversation with you," Hidan said. His eyes were alight. This was actually surprisingly fun! "No specifications, just whatever you want to have a conversation about. If it can deal with that, try to do something surprising. If I'm right, these things actually do have access to all of my mental resources, even if they don't use most of it."

Kakuzu checked the time on his phone. "Come out in a half hour, or if I ask you to. I am trying to do things myself, too."

"Oh. Sure." Fuck! He's going to make me wait?! But Hidan was starting to feel kind of surly for no obvious reason, so it would be a good idea to do that. He consoled himself by giving Samehada a treat. "Sammy, when Kakuzu gets bored with it and wants it to go away, you get to lick it away. Might not taste like much, but probably something." The shark wiggled and licked his chops.

So off he went into the kitchen. It was very empty when there was nobody else in it. Hidan sat on the counters where a sink should be and made a clone, not bothering to think any instructions at it. That would defeat the whole purpose. Yet, when he made it, the clone nodded in acknowledgement before leaving. Did I secretly want it to do that? Can it detect things I don't know I want? Shit.

Hidan pulled his legs up so he could sit crosslegged. If I have a half hour, I guess I could use it. He set a timer on his phone so he wouldn't get too distracted and forget (though he expected that Kakuzu would love it if he forgot), and started to concentrate. What if I move it another way? Another shape? Different hand thingies, of course. He twisted his hands a different way than he had ever twisted them before and tried to make his chakra into a cube.

.

Meanwhile, Kakuzu stood as soon as the clone arrived. "Walk and talk," he ordered it. Damn delays. I shouldn't have wasted my time practicing chakra control, not when I have much more important things to do and not nearly enough time to do them in.

"Okay," the image agreed. "So whaddaya wanna talk about?"

"Does Hidan know whatever happens to you?" Kakuzu asked.

The clone scratched his insubstantial head with his insubstantial hand. "Don't remember what it was like to stop the deer, that one time. So, no."

"Good." Means I can share my business with him without worry. "I have to pay a visit to Konan, so wait here."

The clone blinked. "Why?" It looked down the basement stairs. "I...It...Hey… Isn't there supposed to…?" The clone blinked, thoroughly confused. Its gaze turned glassy and distant.

Samehada warbled up from the floor, where he had been following the clone as silently as he could. Was it Licking Time?

Kakuzu shook his head and chuckled quietly. The clone's face was still twitching. The poor thing looked like a Roomba bumping against a shelf over and over again, having yet to figure out it needed to go around. "Not yet. Give him some more time. Hidan did say I needed to test it with something unexpected."

Samehada curled up to wait, and Kakuzu descended the stairs. He knocked first. It was only polite. He was about to open the door when it opened. Konan stared out at him. "Yes?"

Kakuzu lowered his hand quickly. Didn't expect that. How convenient, though. "I need a money block, in non-block form."

Konan raised her hand and floated one through the air toward her, not moving from the doorway. Kakuzu looked past her as much as he was able to. What was she hiding? He could see, against the far wall, a small stack of money blocks from where they had overfilled the space available against the near wall. Bowls of water, some of them made out of paper, were also visible. What on earth could she need water for down here? Or weapons? There were weapons, probably the entire contents of her pouch, laid out on the floor near the left wall.

"Here you are." Kakuzu returned his attention to her and accepted the heavy stack of paper with a grunt and some very careful handling. Wouldn't do to drop any of it. Konan watched as he got the stack under control before asking, "Do you need it for something?"

"Yes," Kakuzu answered. "It may or may not be used." And that's all I'm going to say about it.

"Keep me informed." With that, she closed the door.

Kakuzu stood outside the door for a while after. The way she had closed the door just now… What the hell was that? She hadn't seemed terribly interested in what he was doing. That was the shortest and most dismissive interaction he had ever had with her, as far as he could remember. She must have been very distracted by whatever she was doing. What the hell is she doing in there? He'd lost the opportunity to ask. Dammit.

Kakuzu stormed up the stairs. Samehada chirped curiously. "If you must know, I'm actually curious," he told the shark. "But I don't get to know what the hell she's doing down there, and I won't have a chance to ask anytime soon. I don't like that."

"What about?" asked the image.

Kakuzu studied it, taking careful notes for Hidan. The image looked perfectly normal. It looked just like Hidan, and was acting just like him too, even beginning to frown because he wasn't answering. Kakuzu waved his hand in front of the image's face. It did not respond. Hmm. What is it paying attention to, and what is it ignoring? It's paying attention to my words, clearly. That makes sense because it's supposed to be having a conversation. But gestures are an important part of conversation too, and it didn't pay attention to my hand just now. Waving my hand in front of its face isn't a conversational gesture, though. Kakuzu tried a thumbs up. The image blinked at that, and said, "Are you messing with me?"

"Yes." Being ordered to mess with a version of Hidan is very fun. Kakuzu grinned behind his mask. "Let's go."

"Seriously, what about?" the clone asked as they made their way back to the lobby.

Kakuzu looked sideways at it. How much of Hidan's mind does it have? Might it have the same memory problems as its original? "Where was I just now?"

"Basement."

"Doing what?"

"Getting money from Konan."

This thing has a memory. If it has a memory, and Hidan doesn't receive that memory, then where do the memories go when it disappears? That was a question for later. For now, the final test. "Did I invite you to come down with me?"

"No, you said to wait," the clone replied. "Don't see why though. There's nothing down -" It cut itself off midsentence. Kakuzu and Samehada looked at it. It was still walking, but once more confused. "But there should be…"

Kakuzu's eyebrows rose. It could go into the basement? How is that possible? How can it have abilities Hidan doesn't have? "Nevermind," he told the clone. "I can ask him to make another clone to test that. Don't think about anything related to the basement."

"Confuuuused," the image agreed. "Don't wanna."

They reached the lobby. Kakuzu placed the stack of money on the desk, careful not to let any of it spill. He used the desk space to organize it into smaller stacks. Interesting. A few ones. A lot of fives. Five dollars is about what you would give a kid to get a treat for himself. I'm seeing a good number of tens, too. Many things are 5-6 dollars, up to 8, so that makes sense. A few twenties - he must have really helped those people. While Kakuzu sorted them out, he asked the image, "Do you know what Konan's doing down there?"

"Menial labor," it answered. "Hey, this isn't a conversation. It's an interrogation. I want a conversation!"

Kakuzu stopped sorting and looked up. He quickly glanced up and down the image, noting that it looked focused. Active. Not paused in time. "You have a lot more initiative than the first image did."

"I have to," it replied.

Kakuzu looked it up and down again. "Because a conversation is more complicated than standing still is." Its abilities change depending on what he wants from it?

"Yep." The image leaped up and sat on the desk. Despite knowing that it was insubstantial, Kakuzu was still faintly surprised to hear no creaking noise. The image's eyes widened. "This wasn't a good idea," it said tonelessly. Then it disappeared.

Samehada whined loudly. He hadn't gotten a chance to lick it up! Kakuzu forgot about the money he had just been sorting and closed his eyes, trying to figure out what had happened. Did touching the desk disperse it? It can disperse itself? The abilities these images had were more complex than he'd thought. It had been a good idea to make Hidan practice making these things.

Kakuzu sighed. "I'm counting money here," he told the shark. "Please remember everything that the clone did for me, in case I forget a detail or two."

The shark sighed. He'd elected to stay behind because it'd been a while since he spent time with Human Cousin's friends, and Stitch Human was nice. But Stitch Human, and all the others too, were busy doing other things and not playing. Sad. What was there for a shark to do?

"I honestly do not know why you would choose to stay behind," Kakuzu muttered as he sorted. The piles of fives and tens were each large enough to be split into two. "Only two things ever happen here. The first is boring things like standing around and talking. The second is life-threatening battle. It might be nice for humans, but there is almost nothing here for a shark to do."

Samehada warbled sadly and nuzzled Kakuzu's legs. He sighed. "But you are here, so I might as well do something to keep you entertained." Why do I always end up being the babysitter? "Want to know what I'm doing?"

The shark climbed, with much effort, into the desk chair and sat at attention.

Kakuzu started at the beginning, telling him about Sasori's troubles and their proposed solution. Samehada warbled when he got to the part the shark was familiar with. Friendly wheel things! He looked forward to meeting them. And it was good that Quiet Human was out of danger now. He wouldn't have to make himself angry to feel safe then. Samehada still did not know how being angry made humans relax - anger and relaxing were just the opposite, weren't they? - but it somehow did. That was what Human Cousin had said last night. Samehada hoped they could find a better way to relax, because that way sounded terrible.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some research to do," Kakuzu said. He pulled out the little hard rectangle all the humans carried and silently flicked at it. Samehada rumbled. He felt...bad. Some things were starting to look like they would not change. All the humans did things he couldn't understand or didn't like, and when they tried to explain he still didn't understand or like it. The humans seemed more and more strange, alien, unreachable. It was lonely. Samehada wondered if that was why the other sharks avoided him. Maybe he seemed like that to them - he couldn't reach them either. Lonely.

Human Cousin was different. He was reachable, he would always care about Samehada, would always make time to play. But Samehada sighed, because Human Cousin was busy and not entirely reachable, like the others. He hadn't seemed so at the top of the tank after hours, during play time. Samehada had thought Human Cousin was naturally playful and nice, even if he was also jumpy. But now he knew what the rest of Kisame's days looked like, and understood that play time had actually been a break, an unusually happy time. He was actually much further away than Samehada had thought, and would not be reachable until something changed, until the bad things and fear and wrongness disappeared. But his problems weren't ones a shark could scare away with teeth. Samehada didn't really understand his attempts to explain, either. The shark whimpered. Lonely!

Kakuzu glanced over the top of his phone. The shark had no visible eyes, so it was impossible for him to make adorable puppy eyes. Kakuzu had no appreciation for puppy eyes, and always stared back icily until the animal or Hidan in question sulked away. But Samehada was not even trying to make such eyes at him. Instead, the shark looked down, his tail hanging listlessly off the side of a receptionist's chair that he was far too large for. He made no noise except for the occasional quiet whimper. It was a sad and pitiful sight. Kakuzu couldn't take it. A surge of pity rose in him at this sight, and he could not concentrate on something like airline prices. He'd seen enough reasonable numbers, anyway.

Kakuzu said nothing. He wasn't the chatty type. Instead, without even a grunt, he bent down and picked Samehada up off the chair. The shark stirred and made noise, but Kakuzu gave no response. He simply lifted the large shark, took several steps, and sat down against the wall behind the receptionist's desk with Samehada in his lap.

The shark shuffled from side to side. Stitch Human's lap was larger than the chair, but not by much. He had to wiggle forward until his head was resting on Stitch Human's shoulder before he could stretch out. Kakuzu realized this, and allowed him to.

He hardened his skin just a little so that his hands wouldn't be scratched, and petted the shark from his head all the way down his back. Kakuzu felt the shark start to tremble. He scratched Samehada next to the fin like Kisame did, and felt the shark clamp onto him with chakra. The shark trilled, and it sounded happy and sad at the same time.

"Please." Kakuzu snorted. "As if I would allow anyone to sit around looking all depressed." He was not skilled at holding back and allowing something to look so pitiful, and did not want to be. He could try to be nice to it, or get angry at it, but either way, Kakuzu would try to change the situation. Pity was a painful feeling to him, and he couldn't stand it.

Samehada chirped. He still didn't understand things, but maybe that was okay? As long as the humans cared about him and would play and be warm and things, they could be reachable anyway. It was nice to know that even Stitch Human, who pretended to be stone, could be cuddly and play with Samehada when he was sad. Loved. Samehada basked in the feeling of being loved. His tail began to wave from side to side in bliss.

Kakuzu was glad for that. Now that he was no longer being assaulted with pity, he could regain some stability and normalcy. When his phone rang, he was prepared. "Hey. I'm here. Is everything ready on your end?"

Kakuzu chuckled. Samehada's tail waved harder at the sound of hunting-pleasure in it. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Talking to Sasori was very pleasant. A plan, perfectly executed, to bring down someone who really deserved it. Kakuzu felt strong when he talked to the redhead. As far as he could tell, the same effect worked in reverse. He wasn't exaggerating when he said, "I don't believe you need me to wish you a damn thing." Which is good, because I'm no good at well wishes. Be strong enough to handle yourself or get out. It was a good thing he did not know any people who needed his help.

Samehada made happy sounds as he ended the call. Kakuzu shrugged. "That was Sasori. He's on his way in to do battle. He's tough enough; I'm sure he can handle it."

Samehada left his lap and crawled up onto the desk, where he nuzzled the money and made chirping sounds. Kakuzu started to tell him what that was for and what he hoped would happen in the future. He got most of the way through before Hidan came out, looking addled and thoroughly desperate. "Kakuzu! What happened?!"

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Sharpening tools. Organizing tools. Using wire and such to lay traps; no explosive tags, of course. Much time was spent sitting in the circle beforehand, thinking of traps and intentions and which traps would best serve those intentions. That of course led to questioning of intentions. Every time her thoughts went there, Konan got up and laid a trap. She had to take down a few after determining that they would be too dangerous, but ultimately ended up with a good amount of traps she deemed mild yet intimidating enough to work. Afterwards, she unspooled her length of wire. There was not much left. Konan hoped whatever surprisingly gracious deities had created this world had created a place for her to restock her weapons and essential supplies.

At some points during this process, she talked aloud to Jashin sama. There was no doubt in her mind that he could not hear her, but she talked anyway. It was helpful, and worked very well as a distraction. After the tools were organized, she said, "I can't help but wonder what I mean for these weapons to accomplish. They are meant to spill blood. Is that what I want them to do here? I would hope not, but I can't be sure. If they did spill blood, would it remain? Or would blood spilled within the confines of this room count as a sacrifice?" She traced the shining edge of a shuriken with her eyes, looking for imperfections. None were visible. "The blood from the deer did not vanish until I tied it to the symbol, but that blood was first spilled when the symbol did not exist. It could easily be different now." She reached back and fingered the hole in her cloak's collar from where she'd had to spear it. Worth it, considering the expense and effort of getting that much blood out by normal means.

As she was laying the traps: "They must be intimidating, which necessarily means they have to be effective. But not too effective, or else he will be really injured. Just effective enough to frighten the wits out of him. Fear reveals one's true character."

After disassembling one of the traps for being too dangerous: "Come to think of it, Nagato reacts to this symbol with fear. Ever since I drew it, he has acted braver than before. His true character is being revealed. I have not asked if the same is true of others. Do they feel fear? Does whatever they feel reveal their character, or obscure it?" She carefully, slowly, removed a weapon from its hidden spot where it would be flung at Yahiko's head if he triggered it. The head was too dangerous a target; the trap would have to be rebuilt in an altered form, where he would not die.

While examining her work and desperately trying not to think: "I don't like it." Jashin sama almost certainly could hear what she did not like, so that was a risky thing to admit. "I cannot talk to him about it." Konan closed her eyes. "About you, about this space. He can't come down here, either. He would not understand it if I tried to talk about how I feel here, or if he did, he would forget. I never thought I would appreciate Hidan's Jashinist tendencies, but I miss them now that they are gone."

She sat down on the edge of the circle, next to one of the points of the triangle. "I cannot even ask, and this is the precise moment when I have so many questions." Such an unfair situation. She stared down at her toes and said softly, "I want to know. What is it really like? The course of my life was shaped by so many things. The course of his life was shaped by you. What does such a life look like?" Images flashed through her mind. They belonged to long-ago, nearly forgotten fantasies. Flowers. A proper dress. Laughter and food and drink. "What would a Jashinist wed-wedding look like?" Her throat caught on that word, leaving her momentarily breathless. Such fantasies belonged to long ago. What was the point of remembering them? Yet here she was, remembering. With the symbol beneath her, they seemed even more meaningful than usual. It was easier to grieve here. Weddings are very sad topics.

Tears came. Konan found herself smiling in amusement. She'd forgotten it was possible to cry. Little miracles, they are. She watched them drip, felt the pain of her throat and face squeezing them out. At first, the tightness was just an ache. Then it began to feel a little sharper, and Konan sensed something releasing itself. After the first drops had completely dried on her cloak, she felt cleaner.

Over and over, she summoned up memories of things that had been lost, in an effort to keep the tears flowing. Our first kiss. His nervous smile. Kyusuke. Waving my legs back and forth, daring him to ask about my shoes. Laughter. Fishing. Comforting Nagato. The way the sunlight sparkled on the waters of that little creek. Being protected. Being held. She started to sob, without making a sound. Making a sound was most unbecoming, not to mention unwise.

I really cannot connect with anyone here. They were all so far away. She had her quest, and everyone else had different quests, and these damned visions of who they should be danced in front of her eyes, always, reminding her of what they were not. Hidan was not Jashinist. Yahiko was not determined. Nagato was not her big brother.

Who should I be? Sometimes another vision danced in front of her eyes, mingling with the others. It was not one she allowed herself to think about, but it was too persistent to fade away. Konan saw another version of herself. She couldn't help but imagine this other version as looking younger, like she had looked back when the three of them were happy and together. This vision was a little silly. She was not a shinobi, so she could afford to be. She still wore a flower in her hair, and perhaps a little more makeup. Nothing too extravagant though. Maybe she had a garden, or maybe she had long ago decided not to have one to spare the plants from their eventual death by neglect. This vision had a favorite drink. It was probably something sweet, but mildly so, with other flavors blended in. Her favorite thing to do was to make Yahiko blush, which she did with skill, knowing exactly how hard to press certain buttons so as not to go too far. She had taught Nagato this skill as well. Perhaps, in the imaginary world where this vision existed, Yahiko was able to speak freely to them both.

Konan, the real Konan, opened her eyes. That vision did not exist. What did exist was herself. Not silly, not humorous. She cultivated blades, not flowers. Her favorite liquid was blood, and her favorite drink a variety of tea that was actually rather bitter. Why did she drink that? She didn't know. She could not press any button, nor touch a single square centimeter of bare skin, without going too far. "His cheeks are so red...If I cut his face open right now it'd shoot geysers. Cut? No, no. Not yet." That was the very definition of too far. Yahiko appreciated softness, gentleness. Everything she could not provide.

Konan wiped her eyes. Her face ached. Yet, even though it was a dull ache, she felt a little better. The tears were probably to thank for that.

She looked down. Instead of a park bench, she sat on a bloody red symbol, invisibly thrumming with power and possessing its own gravity. The weight this room had reminded her of the weight of rain clouds. It was comfortable. But a little stifling too, yes?

"Thank you," she said to Jashin sama. "This is pleasant." She stood up and gathered herself.

Who was she? What was she going to do? What kind of relationships would she have with these strangers she was surrounded by, strangers who were so much better served by another version of her but didn't know it? They don't know what they are settling for.

It was approaching lunchtime. Konan supposed she would have to leave the question aside. Hidan did not think of alternatives, so why did she? If I teach myself to follow his path, perhaps I will be as satisfied as he is. Konan realized that this wasn't the first time she had thought that. Hidan had always struck her with how satisfied he was, like when he yelled at Pain and refused to hold himself back from pursuing his own happiness. She admired that. Perhaps she had always been trying to find her way onto his path, and didn't know it.

If so, she was making excellent progress. Konan found reason to smile as she left the basement, looking up with a rare feeling of hope.

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A/N: I feel very silent now. I can't think of anything to say. Good day.