A/N: Recently on one of my other stories, the one that I'm actually editing to make it good for other people to read, I got a review. Said review stated that my story was going on for a bit without paying off any setups, and I probably should get around to doing that soon, but it wasn't a problem quite yet. So I looked at that story through the lens of plot arcs and reassured myself that yes, each scene was in fact moving some aspect of the plot forward.

Then I looked at this story through that same lens, and realized some things. Honestly, a great many scenes here seem like they're just the characters spinning their wheels and not moving. Now that I'm paying attention to such things, I'd like to get rid of scenes like that going forward. Hence this chapter.

Enjoy.

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Hidan

Hidan and Konan played cards.

"Go fish," she told him. He picked up another card to add to his growing hand. He wasn't keeping track of what he had already asked about, and she was. Result: she was winning. The reason why he wasn't paying attention?

"How the fuck am I supposed to be friends with people when I'm also kind of their therapist?" he fretted. "I want to just be with them, but I can't because I don't want to spill any secrets I shouldn't. It's none of my business. But it is, because I care about both of them! What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?"

Konan's face remained impassive, calm, undisturbed. She was like that inside too. It was very soothing. "In my world, there is no contradiction between caring deeply about someone and avoiding certain topics out of courtesy. That is, in fact, how we show we care."

"Yeah, but this is taking it too fucking far," Hidan argued. "I want to just tell Moonlight that he doesn't have to worry about always feeling like that since Sunshine's got a girl form. I want to just tell Sunshine that Moonlight would think he looked even more manly if he put on makeup in his real form. They really fucking need to know what they think and I can't fucking tell them and it's driving me abso-fucking-lutely bananas! Fives."

Konan gave him a five. "I have read stories like that. The reader is permitted to know something the characters do not, and it would change everything if only they did. The reader is left in anguish."

"Yes! Fuck!"

"The obvious solution is to resolve the discrepancy by giving them the missing information."

Hidan threw out a combination of adjectives and nouns that ought not to be repeated, lest it blister ears. "But I can't, because I'm also a character and it would change how they think of me. I don't want to violate their trust."

"You must feed them the information, then, without them knowing you are responsible," Konan said.

Hidan stayed quiet. Konan requested a card, and he forked it over without a single word. "But I want to be responsible," he said slowly. "I don't do that subterfuge shit."

"This entire situation is under your control, then," she told him. "You could choose subterfuge at any point. That you have to suffer is entirely your fault."

Hidan sat up straighter. "That's true," he said. "I'm in control here. I've got the power. Fuck yeah!"

Konan glanced up at him. "What does it mean when you say it like that?"

"It means this whole situation thingy is not a problem anymore," Hidan declared. "Um...Twelves."

"Go fish," Konan murmured. "Are you saying that the fact that you are the one causing suffering to yourself makes it not a problem?"

"Yup. If it was anyone else making me suffer, I'd hate that. But if it's me, I can totally do this for a little longer." Hidan narrowed his eyes. "There's gotta be some kind of breakthrough soon, though. I can't live with this for much longer."

Yahiko

I made a promise. A long time ago, I promised Konan that I wouldn't let myself be hurt. I thought I shouldn't let myself be hurt mentally, either. I thought, "If I ever find myself seriously considering a breakdown of any kind, I'll stop and take a break." I promised her that and I meant it. I have to keep my promise.

Yahiko sat down in the break room, his lunch untouched in front of him. He'd had great difficulty making it. He wasn't that hungry. It was hard to be hungry when one was followed by nervousness, a shadow that made everything he encountered just a touch closer to overwhelming than it would otherwise be. He was seriously considering a nervous breakdown, and he had promised to take a break if he ever found himself doing that.

Yahiko sighed. His shoulders relaxed as a great weight lifted off of them. A promise. I'm bound to relax. I have to. It's not my choice. I'm not choosing to let anybody down. He was very glad he'd made that promise. Without it, he wouldn't have been able to consider what he was now considering without being flooded by guilt. What he was considering was very drastic. It would represent a big change to his life, performed solely for himself and his own comfort, and he didn't think anybody would understand the reasons behind it. There was no hope of explaining it, if he could even work up the courage to try, which he couldn't. But he had promised. He kept his word; a promise was all the explanation he needed.

Yahiko made his way to his boss' office. She was currently the only one in there, which was a godsend. She was busy going over people's declared availability, trying to fit it all together into the great puzzle that was the next week's schedule. "Do you need something?" she asked, glancing up at him before returning to her work.

Yahiko's guts twisted. His face turned red. He suddenly found himself looking at the floor, and his throat was so tight that he would have to expend great effort to speak above a whisper. His whole body was warm, his chakra flow agitated. He swallowed and tried to direct chakra toward his heart. His chakra was soothing, right? Maybe it could soothe his heart. "Yeah." I'm too quiet. I whispered that. I need to be bold. He directed chakra toward his throat. "I, um." I'm louder. Good. I can do this. I...I can do this. "I think I need to quit my job?"

He cringed after saying that because it was physically painful. Ow! He had to bite back an exclamation of pain. Ow ow ow. Fortunately, his boss didn't notice. She was too busy picking up the pen she'd dropped in shock.

"Ah…" Clearly, she did not know what to say to that. The confusion on her face tormented Yahiko. He felt horrible for doing that to her. "Well… You'll still have to be scheduled for next week."

He nodded. That was the official policy, and he understood why it was. The schedule-makers couldn't be expected to completely undo their mental map of who could be fitted where all at once. That was why changes to the schedule required two weeks' notice.

She composed herself, or attempted to. She wasn't as good at it as Konan was. Konan would be really good to talk to right now. Or Sasori. Someone calm, please. "May I ask…" As his boss, she really wasn't supposed to be involved in his personal life. But as a person, she couldn't help it. Yahiko understood.

"You've been really kind to me," he began. "But…" But what? He'd had something in mind, something about circumstances beyond her influence that she couldn't do anything to make up for. That explanation turned insubstantial, ghostly. It wasn't real. it wasn't the very real, very solidly felt things he lived with for most of his day. He had thought his problems originated outside of work and followed him in, but the truth was -

"But it's too much," he finished. What am I saying? I should stop saying it. Why can't I stop? "It makes me feel guilty to know that anyone cares that much." Stop! "I need to relax with people who don't care."

The silence that followed nearly crushed him. What have I done? Did I just make her feel guilty for being nice to me? It's so good of her to be personally involved when she technically shouldn't be. That's what the world needs: more people opening their hearts even if it's against the rules. I just made the world a worse place. His eyes filled with tears. He wished she had never asked. He'd said nothing but the truth. He couldn't have said anything else, because anything else would have been a lie. He wished she'd never asked. He wished she was Konan. He wished a lot of things as he turned and fled, back to the break room and his unappetizing lunch and hopefully a bit of solitude.

Nagato

Nagato spent his lunch break thinking. Yahiko has to be something other than a lamb. Has to be. Yahiko was obviously not a predatory animal, so that ruled out most of the typical, "cool" options. Perhaps he could be an elk like Nagato. But Nagato had his powers, which made him the best shinobi to defend himself and others. He could literally pick up hostile demons and throw them away. That was why he had no trouble imagining himself as an animal with a spectacular pair of antlers. Yahiko did not have any similar powers, so Nagato could think of nothing that would justify him being a horned animal. He was the least defensive person Nagato could imagine, which ruled out armored animals. No powers of attack, no armor, not predatory. It was really hard to imagine Yahiko as anything other than a lamb.

But Yahiko had said he would like to be something else, so Nagato refused to give up just yet.

Let's see. What powers does he have? Healing powers. Healing and soothing are what he does best. So maybe he's something that helps other creatures, in a symbiotic way. Nagato thought of cleaner fish, who set up stations on the reefs where other fish could swim up and hang out while the cleaner fish picked their scales clean of parasites. It seems a little too transactional for him. What other symbiotic animals were there? Oddly, the first thing Nagato thought of was squirrels. They helped plants. But it was only on accident. No, squirrels wouldn't do.

He was halfway through the search results for symbiotic animals when he glanced at the time and realized his lunch was over. He still hadn't found anything that resembled Yahiko nearly as well as a lamb did. It really seemed like "small, adorable, and commonly used in sacrifices" might be everything Yahiko had going for him.

Maybe he's a dog. Dogs help each other, are kind, and are very fluffy and cute. They were also omnivores, which did much to avoid the obvious problem with picking a predatory animal. Nagato contemplated dogs as he gave the shelter dogs their baths. Jonesy reminded him of Yahiko, right down to the unusual openness. A dog in dog society couldn't be so forward all the time, but it was fine for a human to be so. Nobody was ever hurt by someone else being too nice to them. Yeah, maybe he's a dog.

Marsha came into the back to look over all of her charges, make sure everything was as it should be. Jonesy wagged his tail at her. "He still a little...slow?" she asked.

"He's not slow," Nagato said. "He's just very friendly."

"Every dog in this place has been trying to train that out of him since he got here. He hasn't learned a thing. Even from Tipsy." She shook her head. "I'm not sure he'll ever learn."

"He will," Nagato insisted. "He's a good dog. He just needs…"

They both knew what belonged at the end of that sentence. "A nippin'," Marsha finished.

Nagato swallowed. Her way of phrasing it was perhaps a bit too strong, but he could not disagree. Real consequences might be the only things that could change Jonesy's behavior. He didn't even notice anything else. "How?"

Marsha frowned. "I've been thinking. It's not the kind of thinking I'm supposed to do. It's not the kind of thinking you're supposed to do either."

She wants to do something harsh to Jonesy? Nagato had just been thinking of Jonesy as Yahiko! He couldn't allow that to happen. He opened his mouth to say so, and vividly remembered. Yahiko and Konan, engaged in literal battle, a fight with Nagato at stake. Yahiko had risen to the occasion. All the problems caused by his overeager attempts to connect with Konan were resolved. Maybe something harsh is needed. "Tipsy," he whispered. "You think she can train it out of him."

Marsha shot him a startled glance. "You have one sharp noggin up there."

"No," Nagato said. "Just experience. Who is allowed to do that kind of thinking?"

"No kind, upstanding member of modern society ought to endorse leaving a snappy dog alone with another dog." Marsha shook her head disapprovingly.

She's right. What the hell am I doing? "Not alone," Nagato said. "Everything is supervised around here, as it should be."

"Nobody could stand to watch something so vicious. There is no heart in the world that can bear the thought of something bad happening to a little dog."

She fought Yahiko herself. "If such a person could be found?"

Marsha shook her head. "Nobody like that's allowed here. The dogs don't like their kind."

"If the dogs did?"

She chewed her lip. "That's a very interesting kind of person."

"Not exactly a member of modern society."

Marsha hemmed and hawed some more. "I oughtn't know anything about it." She continued on her rounds.

Nagato wondered what was wrong with him. The ninja way didn't work for everyone. Dog psychology wasn't anything like human psychology. He was pretty sure he would be breaking some laws.

Jonesy barked. Nagato looked down at him, this barely grown dog with a broken tail who never learned. He wouldn't have survived on his own. Nagato felt ashamed to have compared Yahiko to something so sad. Maybe we should stick with the lamb metaphor, after all.

Sasori

Sasori poked his head in around lunchtime to check on his newest employee. It had been an hour since he finished Ruta's training. Ruta had not known anything about repairing bicycles, which was okay, because Sasori hadn't either. Training consisted of showing him the good instructional videos and guides, having him work with one of the shop's machines to develop a sense of mechanical intuition, and leaving him with the resources to find more guides if he needed them. A quick tour of the shop was given, along with some instructions specific to dealing with the bicycles, and then he was left on his own. He was to come and find Sasori if anything happened that he wasn't absolutely confident about, which Sasori expected to include the first bike to ever show up.

That was why he was surprised to find Ruta sitting next to a bicycle. Ruta was watching a video on how to read pressure gauges. He looked up when Sasori appeared. "Yes! I was just about to call you. Um, how do I know if I'm over inflating it? The needle just goes up when I'm pumping and then down when I'm not pumping. I don't know if it going into the red for a second is okay or not."

Sasori checked that the pump was sealed. "Good. It's not leaking. Now, let me show you how to check the pressure on a bicycle tire. Don't rely on the pump." He showed Ruta the thumb test. "It's good."

"I know that one," Ruta said. "But what you just did looks hardly any different from how it was when it came in."

"How did you know it needed its tire pumped?"

"There was a difference between front and back tire. But when there's not a difference, if both of them are deflated, how am I supposed to tell?"

Sounds like he needs something less intuitive. He doesn't have intuition yet. "I'll find you an answer. In the meantime, call me if you suspect tire pressure has anything to do with their complaint."

Ruta nodded. "A smaller bike with a basket came along too. This one doesn't have any way to carry things, and the small one was gone when I came back out, so I think it was just there to carry things. It brought this." He led Sasori to a table, on which was a ball. It was a small ball, suitable for throwing from any hand. It was not a baseball; it was smooth, round and blue, with no markings. A handball? There's a sport by that name, right? It was clean, with no visible dirt or scratches.

Sasori examined it carefully. "I don't think this is new," he pronounced. "They scavenged a ball some kid didn't bother to pick up."

"There are a lot of those," Ruta said. "My collection is two buckets, and I don't exactly lurk in backyards. People are just really careless with their stuff."

"Do you use your collection for anything?" Sasori asked.

"No."

"Are any of them good?"

Ruta looked insulted. "I have one that looks just like this!"

"Alright." Sasori put the ball in a drawer. "If you get any more, put them in this drawer until you can get one of those buckets. It'll be tough, but maybe people will buy used balls."

"I hope so. I really like these smooth blue guys." Ruta waved at the ball in the drawer before closing it. "Bye little guy."

Sasori walked out. He and Laurie had just been putting together a pay scale for the three of them. Their plans had been really hampered by uncertainty over how profitable the bicycle side of their business would be. Now Sasori knew. Plan for zero income. Who the hell would buy used balls that you can pick up with a five minute walk?

Kisame

"There's a problem with octopi," the Asian kid was saying. "They're smart. When they're smart, they get bored. They can't be cooped up in tanks all day and be happy. They need the stimulation of the open ocean, of things chasing after them and prey hiding and all that good stuff. We don't even have enough toys for them all. Not even enough toys. Can you believe that?"

"Yep." Kisame was already pretending to be looking at his phone as an excuse for maintaining a comfortable level of disengagement. He opened up the group chat and typed, Does anybody know where to find cheap toys? "On April Fool's Day, someone let Harbi out of his tank. They also let Same out. I found the two of them playing together. They had a great time, shark and mollusc. Figuring out how to play with someone of another species is probably more fun than he's had all month."

The kid gasped. "That's a great idea! Oh, man! If only… Darn, but outside of the touch pools, the different exhibits don't socialize with each other. They're here for human pleasure, not their own. Nobody cares about how happy they are, only about how expensive it would be and yadda yadda and all that. But they should socialize with each other! They should! That would be the best we can do to recreate the ocean."

The universe is joking right now, Sasori replied. Kisame grinned. He would of course mention what the joke was, and if he found it funny, chances were Kisame would too. If Sasori found something to be bizarre, Kisame did too. The same did not work in reverse, which was why Sasori qualified as a loon, but Kisame felt pretty confident that it worked the one way. "I hear you. I always wanted to spend more time with Same, but I didn't think the supervisors would be happy with that. I'd be goofing off on the job, or worse, risking harm to one of the exhibits. Can't have that. But Same can't stay in a tank all day. He's too smart for that."

"And it would be risking different exhibits eating each other," the kid murmured. "But at the same time, it would be enriching their lives. Why does it have to be that way? The really good stuff always comes with risks, and some of it comes with really bad risks. But in this world, it's like risk has to be avoided at all costs. So even if something dangerous would be really good, you can't do it just because it's danger and that's worse than not having the good thing somehow? I mean… I don't want anything to be eaten, but I'd feel even worse if they had to live all their lives in complete boredom, you know?"

"I agree," Kisame said. "Bend the rules a little. Add some danger. Spice things up." That's it. Say things like this more often, and eventually I might believe them. This could help me relax. "Life isn't worth it without taking some risks." Such as the risk of being looked at funny. If other people can't accept my shark half, that's a problem with them. ...Yeah, I also need to repeat that until I believe it.

"I got a job with octopuses because I know how many things they can do and I thought it'd be fun and cool and amazing," the kid said. "But what it really is is bashing my head against the wall knowing that it should be more amazing than it is."

Kisame nodded vigorously. "God, I feel you so much, kid. It's okay now, but what if it was more than okay?" What if I got to be completely happy, like I was that day in the lake? "I think that's one of the big questions about human existence. Itachi would love it."

"Yeah," the kid said. "You know…" He checked his phone. "I've got to go, actually. But I'm not forgetting this." He pointed at Kisame before leaving. Kisame briefly wondered just what the hell he had inspired in the young man.

Then Sasori responded. How much demand is there?

Why are you asking that?

Cheap toys are what the bicycles are bringing so far. What kind of money can I get for them?

Kisame's eyebrows rose. Holy shit. He could help out a friend and fulfill his and the kid's shared hopes for the welfare of the exhibits at the same time. What kind of toys, and how many? he asked. Gonna need more details to put together a sales pitch.

Hmm. Maybe tomorrow, then, Sasori replied. Handballs. I don't know how many. Possibly old, scratched - the kind that you find lying around because some kid didn't bother picking them up. I'll know how many tomorrow.

Kisame typed furiously. I'll find out if small balls are something anyone's interested in. This was something he could do! He could actually do something for his aquatic brethren, something real! That might also be a way he could connect to his nonhuman half. If he could connect more to his nonhuman half, perhaps the feeling that it was strange to relate to other sharks that way would disappear on its own. Given that this hope boiled down to "Connect to my nonhuman half in order to become able to connect to my nonhuman half," it seemed to make no sense, which was why he hadn't thought of it until he was drifting off to sleep last night. Maybe helping out the octopuses would make him more comfortable around sharks. It was a long shot, but it was a shot. What the hell did that kid inspire in me?

Samehada's whining, too, had helped inspire him. Something he said upset his best friend, yet again. He only ever seemed to let his friends down. Maybe it was time for that to change. Maybe it was time to do something real to help someone, for once. I like that octopus. I won't let him down. Kisame wanted to feel pride in himself again. This seemed like a good way to do it.

His phone buzzed. There was an attraction that needed fixing. All available hands were requested. Kisame got up to go do his job. After he did, he would find the people who were in charge of the welfare of the animals and talk to them, one by one, to find out if small balls would make good toys.

Itachi

Itachi looked around for Kisame and did not see him. But that was not a surprise. There was no way for Kisame to know he was out here, in his usual place outside the south gas station with his guitar. Itachi hadn't known himself. His decision was impulsive, instantaneous. Itachi was still surprised.

He played a cheerful song, something light and full of life's passing goodness. Neither the rhythm nor the lyrics hinted at anything deeper. It was a song for sunny days and picnics and lazing about not thinking of anything. So Itachi did not think of anything. He did not think of the demon attack. He did not think of vampires that could go out in daylight. He did not think of the future of their new little world. It took a lot of effort, but he did not think of those things. He thought of how nice it was to be able to play in public again, how much he had missed this, and how kind his new demon friend was.

When he had finished the song, he sent a quick text to the friendly incubus. Thank you for talking with us. I find that my fear of demon attacks has lifted. I am not afraid of being out in public anymore. Then he put his phone away and started another song. This song, unfortunately, was not so light and fluffy. It sounded as if it was, but if one listened closely the lyrics revealed hidden depths. Itachi liked songs like that, so most of his repertoire consisted of songs that were not light and fluffy. That was fine. He could choose to ignore their words.

He made a fair amount of money, but more than that, he made many more smiles than he usually did. A surprising number of people had noticed his absence and worried about him. One of them was the woman he had "sheltered" with the day the succubus attacked. He recognized her handbag. It had made quite an impression on his skull.

She was uncharacteristically reluctant. Where had the woman who walked right up and winked at him gone? "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm sorry for hitting you," she said in a low and sorry voice. "When you started running, I realized something else must have been happening, but you had your hands over your ears so I couldn't apologize. And then you didn't come back. I've been worried."

"It's not your fault," he assured her. "Thank you. You saved me from a succubus who would have killed me."

Her jaw dropped. "They're not allowed to do that."

"She went rogue. Her anger was greater than her desire to follow rules." Itachi shook his head. "Don't worry. She is gone now. Reduced to her essence and consumed."

The woman shook her head. "Good riddance. I knew that woman you were ogling was trouble."

Itachi lifted his pick to his guitar. "Thank you for being concerned for me. That is very kind of you."

"Have you had lunch?"

The question caught him off guard. "What?"

Her former boldness was back. "I said, have you had lunch yet?" She looked directly at him and shrugged. Nothing was off the table yet.

Itachi froze. "Ah… I was distracted. I don't even know your name."

"Jennifer. So, have you?"

Itachi had never been aggressively pursued before. He wasn't sure what to do. She had interesting opinions about flutes. He lowered his pick. "I have not."

Jennifer did not say anything. She didn't need to. She said everything without words.

He put his instrument away and stood. Also without words, he joined her. He followed her to somewhere unknown in the hopes of food and quality conversation. With great effort and more than a few deliberate diversions, he managed not to think of what this might mean. What interbreeding with physically normal humans was likely to do. Social ramifications. How he would let her down in the future if nothing happened. All those far-off concerns demanded attention, but he did not give it to them. I've let my life become a life of thought. Perhaps it is time to let it again be a life of experience. Thought is not everything, and I must not let it be so.

.

A/N: I have a basket full of small balls matching that description. They are indeed common where I live. The smooth blue one is my favorite - I don't think I would ever give it up, as it is a treasured childhood momento. I'd love to find something to do with the rest of them though.

Now I must google how well octopi can throw things.

Itachi's last thoughts are something I've been chewing on for a while. I don't remember what it was like before I started really taking a close look at my experience of everything. Sure, I remember things that happened years ago, but I don't remember how it felt. I can never remember how things used to feel - everything always feels the same to me! "This is normal. This is normal. This is normal." And the whole time, the definition of normal is changing. But that change is not felt. I'm going by intuition when I say that it would be better to get out more and have more real experiences. I can almost guarantee that I won't notice the difference, but if I think about it I like that concept more than the concept I live by now.

Today is a good day to change things that are in need of changing. Maybe things can be different.