A/N: I've decided to begin the process that will hopefully result in medication. This will probably improve my writing, because I have determined why I have so much trouble keeping my stories from blowing up into 500-chapter monsters. It's because I lose focus and want to explore every detail. Getting help for that might be the magic key I've been seeking to help me write short.

Although, practicing with short stories wouldn't hurt. Thank you, writing contest I entered a few days ago. I already have my submission in mind. I just need to write it. 'Twil be the second short story I've ever written. A lot of fun, they are.

Now to resurrect things that were forgotten about long ago.

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Nagato

Nagato had already begun to release dogs into the yard when Konan showed up. He grinned. "Glad you made it."

She nodded and stood off to the side as he finished with the rest of the dogs. When they were all romping around the backyard, she and Nagato sat on the little porch together. "How have they been?" she asked.

"Mosey has learned that his leg will not hurt if he puts weight on it." Nagato pointed out the large dog walking around the base of a small tree, sniffing at it. "Jonesy's gotten better at not tripping over other dogs or crashing into people, though 'better' in his case means he still does it a lot more than normal. Marsha finally decided that, at his age, with the likelihood of adoption the highest it's ever going to be, shelling out the money for a vet was worth it. Turns out I wasn't entirely right about him. He does have trouble keeping track of his mistakes long enough to learn from them, but the vet thinks he mainly has a sensory problem. She recommended occupational therapy. He just wasn't seeing or hearing the consequences of his actions." Nagato hung his head. "I never would have considered that. Shows I have a long way to go in helping either animals or people. How can you help if you don't understand the problem?"

"In retrospect, we were impulsive," Konan murmured. "Yet some kind of impulse towards peace was needed, even from people as young and flawed as we were."

"That's why teenagers should not be saving the world," Nagato said. "There has to be a deconstruction of the YA genre out there where a teenage hero accomplishes what they think is their quest, realizes they have fucked up massively, spends the next 30 years undercover as a scholar or monk or something, and goes on a second quest to fix their mistakes and finally accomplish the true objective of the first quest, which they could not have as a teenager because they were missing vital information that they needed to interpret it properly."

"Naruto would not… He… He does lack the worldly experience Jiraiya had, and no longer has Jiraiya around to mentor him…" Konan's grip on the porch tightened.

Whisper whined. He was standing just off the porch, to their right, staring at them, like he had been for the past two minutes. Seeing Konan in distress, he finally stepped onto the porch. He sniffed her. This brought Konan back to the real world. She relaxed somewhat, but still seemed bothered.

"It sounds like your world isn't doing too well," Nagato murmured.

"Its foundations are unstable, yes."

"Oof." Nagato wondered whether he should tell her his thoughts. "I, um, have some thoughts. They're kind of depressing though."

"Tell me."

"What happens now depends on how real fictional universes are. Do they acquire reality once they're abandoned? Or, when the show or book is over, do they just freeze? The last scene remaining preserved for all eternity." Nagato shivered. "If the first, your world might build itself up to a better state once its author lets go of it. If the second, at least nobody in that world will be in a condition to feel pain or suffering anymore."

"Both of these possibilities are terrifying. I am grateful for Itachi's insight now."

"What insight was that?"

"That we and this world we're in are only partly fictional. We are also partly real. That means we can never experience either of the fates you describe. Neither having to reckon with a sudden jarring transition that endows everybody with the ability to see just how much of their history makes no sense, nor freezing forever." Konan closed her eyes. "I only wish I could somehow pull my loved ones into this world to save them from those fates."

"Partly real? Are you using that word the same way I'm using it? When I said they could acquire reality, I meant go on to have an independent existence, self organizing and self determining."

"I am using the word the same way you are using it."

"We have free will?"

"Somewhat. He believes we are capable of acting on our own."

Nagato pulled out his phone. "I'm technically outside, so she can't yell at me." Hey everyone, Itachi has good news. We have free will! He already had all sounds on silent, so he didn't need to fear that the response would disturb the dogs. He told Konan to silence hers, too.

"That is really good to hear. You just made my whole day," he said to Konan. "I used to take for granted the idea that I could decide my own actions. Never again."

"This news means more to you than it does to me," she said. "I have never thought I could control my own actions."

"I never said control. I said decide. There is a difference."

Their conversation was interrupted by the trainer releasing Jonesy back into the yard. The golden dog spotted them and ran over, his paws thumping the ground in an ungainly way. "Until we decide to bring an occupational therapist in, the trainer's still working with him," Nagato whispered. "But he's training Jonesy using more sensory and movement-based prompts. It's the best we can do for now."

Jonesy sniffed Konan all over, allowing her ample opportunity to pat his large head. She smiled. "He is very warm and soft."

"Oh, god, he is." Nagato already had both hands stroking Jonesy's back. "You'd never need a space heater if you lived with him."

"So what is the difference between controlling and deciding?"

"When I decide something's going to happen, I don't know how, when or where. I just know that it will. When you're in control of your actions, you've specified how things are going to happen, but not what will happen. They're inverses."

Konan scratched Jonesy under the chin. He woofed. "Are you saying that it might be better to decide what I want, so that no matter how variable my behavior gets at least it will all be in the service of the same goal, than to keep myself disciplined at all times for no other reason than that discipline is good?" She tilted her head. "When I put it like that, the second option sounds very silly."

"Everybody needs a reason to do what they do," Nagato said. "You won't be able to discipline yourself until you have a goal you need discipline to achieve. Self control is crazy expensive, energy-wise."

Jonesy tried to sniff Whisper. Whisper tucked his tail between his legs and kept very still. Konan held Jonesy back. She flicked one of his ears sharply enough to cause a short burst of pain. "Not this one," she whispered. Jonesy backed off and sniffed Nagato's shirt, then spotted Lilac and Kidneybean digging in a corner of the yard and went to join them.

Nagato groaned. "Excuse me. I must supervise the digging."

Konan sat in silence for a time, watching the dogs in the yard. Mosey dozed in the sunlight. Nagato broke up the three dogs and got them digging in separate spots. Tipsy sat at the base of the small tree and watched the yard, same as Konan did. Their eyes met several times. Konan tried hard to avert her gaze. She looked around for the dog that Nagato preferred, the one he called Golden. Where was that mutt? Konan finally spotted her tail peeking out from underneath the bushes in a far corner of the yard.

She related all of this to Nagato when he returned. "Oh, no, not the bushes again." Off he went to fetch Goldeneye before she got any more insects on her. He knelt down just behind the telltale tail. "Golden. Come out, girl."

Golden woofed. She sounded happy.

"You're a dog, not a plant. Come on out."

Before his astonished eyes, she turned around inside the bushes. Branches broke and scraped, leaves and parts of leaves flew everywhere. Yet when Golden emerged, her mouth was open and her tail was wagging like she was having the time of her life. She didn't seem to notice the broken branches stuck in her fur.

She loves rubbing herself against things. Doesn't notice or feel pain from being scratched. Enjoys being bathed roughly. Could she have what Jonesy has? It would explain so many of her problems. Nagato scratched her roughly around the neck, as always, and looked at her with new eyes. Before I knew about sensory issues, I never would have realized all those things were related. How many seemingly unsolvable problems are just waiting for the right knowledge?

He led her back to the porch. Konan already had her sleeves rolled up. She began to scratch Goldeneye in long downward strokes. Goldeneye slumped onto the ground like she was in doggy heaven. Konan switched to stronger pressure applied with the heels of her hands. That got just as positive a response. "Interesting. She enjoys both sharp scratching and deep pressure. I wonder how she would react to going against the fur?" Konan brushed a hand upward along Golden's neck. The dog whined. "No, she does not enjoy that." Konan smoothed the fur back down with several scratches, then went back to performing a dog massage.

"I never realized all her problems with going into places she shouldn't could be related," Nagato said. "Now I'm really convinced. Book learning is an essential part of helping anyone."

Konan paused. "Speaking of that, didn't I ask Itachi recently for information regarding medical professionals who could use medicine to help me?"

"You did? Congratulations."

"I ought to get back to that. I haven't done anything with that information since I got it."

"Some things just take time."

Whisper nudged Konan's shoulder with his snout and whined. She gestured for Nagato to take over, which he did. "What would you like?" she asked Whisper.

He looked at Goldeneye and waved his tail uncertainly. "Would you also like that?" Konan asked. She laced the fingers of both hands together, the way she had done while massaging Goldeneye, and slowly approached Whisper's back. He let her. She pressed down in a long, downward stroke. His tail thumped. He didn't melt like Golden had, but he didn't seem to mind, either.

After several deep strokes with no obvious response, Konan stopped. "Perhaps all dogs enjoy that," she said to Nagato.

Nagato opened his mouth to agree. Instead, it fell open. Konan's eyes widened. Whisper had pressed himself against her side. She tried to pet him. He didn't object. "He's usually uncomfortable with being petted," she said.

"Maybe sensory issues are significantly more relevant to dogs than I had previously assumed," Nagato said.

Whisper sniffed at Konan's hand on his back. He was nearly sure of how the strange paw-noses worked. They did not have the ability to bite. They could scratch, but also not scratch. He still hadn't located the nose part, but it must be there somewhere. Why else would they hold it out for greetings? But the paw-noses were not used only for sniffing. Kind Human and Packmate used theirs to make the one who rolled in bushes happy. They could make him feel good, too. What were those magical multipowered appendages? Whisper was no longer afraid of them, at least not Packmate's. He was curious.

Konan shrugged. "Or he has, at long last, gotten used to me. Be careful of wielding a hammer and seeing nails."

Goldeneye woofed. Nagato resumed rough scratching. "I'm pretty sure about her, though."

"Oh, yes. Sometimes it is very simple."

Kisame

Kisame was quite interested in Itachi's news. He called as soon as he had an opportunity to. "Itachi, what the fuck is in the group chat? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought it was obvious."

"Obvious how?"

"Well, everyone already knew that we function like a single dysfunctional mind, and that we were created by a single person. I assumed everyone had at least suspected that we are created from fragments of a real personality. We are partly real, which means we can act on our own."

"...How does any of that imply that we have free will?"

"An author can only control their own creations. If we are partly real, then we are partly not one of their creations."

"...I'm still not understanding. Help me out here. My entire existence and everything I do is decided by what words someone writes on a page. Barring some kind of super weird condition, people only write what they mean to write. If they don't intend to write it, then they don't."

"You assume that all writing is planned. Some writing is not. There may be some plans for our story, but for the most part they're just recording our day to day life."

"You can't record something you're making up."

"We are partly real. We are not entirely made up."

"We are words on a page. We are literally made up."

"Fine. Think of it as a journal. They're actually recording their own day to day life, but framing it as a fictional story."

"You can't do that."

"Why not?"

Kisame struggled to explain. "It's just… You can't… What's real is real. What's not is not. There is a difference between fiction and reality."

"Is there?"

"...Don't even start with me."

"Haven't you ever found that thinking of something in a different way causes it to look very different? Your perspective is a mental creation, yet you accept it as reality. Why can't other mental creations be real, too?"

"You're making my head hurt."

"You are a creation, Kisame. Are you prepared to say, out loud, that you are not real?"

Kisame's grip on his phone tightened. I'm not real. His heart thumped in his chest. That feeling isn't a feeling at all. It's words. Just words. His guts twisted. I can't believe that. It sure feels real. "I…I can't say that."

"Have some understanding for our brothers and sisters in fiction, won't you?" There was a smile in Itachi's voice. "They think they're real, too. Who are you to tell them they aren't?"

Kisame hadn't fully processed certain recent discoveries. When Itachi said that, something clicked. Kisame ended the call, his arm falling limply to his side. Holy shit. If Yahiko was right, I could meet a character from a book I've read. I could talk to them, touch them, punch them in the face. Could I look at a flesh and blood person standing right in front of me and tell them they're not real?

I could not.

He found a wall to bang his head against before returning to work. While sweeping up some trash, he wondered why he was friends with someone like Itachi. They couldn't be more different.

Deidara

Deidara finally got around to finishing that packet he'd been given. He turned it in at the department store Yahiko used to work at and was given instructions to return on Sunday for training. On his way out, he jumped for joy. A job!

He called Yahiko, of course. "Hey! I got hired at the place you used to work at, yeah. I'm only part time, so they want me to be available on weekends. I said yeah. I hope Konan doesn't mind…"

"Congratulations! It might interfere with some things. But you told them you wouldn't be available super late or super early, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then I think you're fine. As long as you can attend meetings, that's what matters."

"Thanks, man. It feels good. To have a regular thing, you know, like a normal person."

Yahiko laughed. "You want to know the best part?"

"What?"

"You get to help people."

"...I do?"

"If you got a position that faces customers at all, you'll meet so many people who have had something happen to them, who need help, who want to hear about good things that are happening to you to know that there are good things in the world. That was my favorite part. Helping somebody find just the right shirt for the granddaughter they don't see very often helped me forget about my own troubles for a while."

Deidara wasn't going to be in the clothing department. He was going to be in another department, keeping shelves stocked. There's nothing that says I can't talk to passing customers while I do that, right? I can wave or say hi. Ask if they're looking for something. I'm not wearing a cone of silence around my neck. Why not?

Yahiko sighed. "I miss customer service." Distorted sounds came over the phone. Yahiko's voice became muffled, as if he had taken the phone away from his head. Deidara could just make out, "Yeah, I said that, and I meant it. I like people." Then Yahiko's voice became clear again. "I'm at the place where the Hatakes like to hang out. They can't believe I said that."

"Have fun convincing them, yeah. You've really helped. I'm looking forward to it! I'm going in for training on Sunday."

"Good luck!"

"Thanks, yeah!" *beep*

Deidara then called Konan. She did not pick up. She would never ignore incoming communication unless she had to, yeah. She must be someplace where phone use is impossible. I'll call her again in half an hour, if she doesn't get back to me first.

He climbed onto Clay's back and flew to the auto shop. He circled the parking lots to make sure they weren't besieged by customers, then landed and walked inside. He took a chair and waited. There had been two customers, one of whom Sasori must be working on as fast as he could and the other of whom was giving Laurie his relevant information right now. Deidara sat still and pretended he did not exist until the customer had left, and until Laurie had stopped typing and lost her focused look. "Is everything good now?" he asked quietly.

She looked up, startled. "Deidara! You really are a ninja. Either that, or I had tunnel vision."

"A combination of both, yeah." He went over to her and leaned on the desk. "Good news! I got a part time job at the department store, yeah."

"Nice! What will you be doing?"

"Stocking shelves."

"Oh. Well, it's something."

"Yahiko reminded me that I am allowed to say hi to people and ask if they need stuff and, you know, bring personhood to the job, yeah. I'm looking forward to it now."

"What? You mean you aren't going to be a soulless automaton?" Laurie shook her head. "I don't know, that might be illegal. Don't you know service workers aren't allowed to be people?"

"I like being a person. I want to be a person. So I'm gonna be one, yeah, and nobody's going to stop me."

She ruffled his hair. "I love your attitude towards everything. When you know what you want, you don't let anything get in your way. I really admire that. That's how I always wanted to be."

Deidara struck a superhero pose. "That's me! I'm awesome, yeah!"

She laughed. Deidara felt warm all over. I hope no more people come in. I want to stay right here for, oh, the rest of the day, yeah.

Unfortunately, he could not. Ruta ran up. "Status report: he discovered an issue with the brake fluid. The repair's going to take longer than initially estimated."

"Just tell me how much longer," Laurie said, typing something into her computer.

"On it!" Ruta ran back.

"He's kind of our assistant bike fixer slash errand boy slash messenger," Laurie explained.

"He gets paid to run around and tell people things? Maybe I applied for the wrong job, haha."

Laurie's face fell. "Maybe you did. You and Clay would be fantastic postal workers. Oh my god."

Deidara had not once thought of that. "...Maybe after stocking shelves for a while? I'm sure that'll bring me into contact with some interesting people, and I really do want to have a normal, totally unskilled, menial job. It'd feel good."

"Don't say that around any psychiatrists, or they might lock you up."

"That's not funny anymore. I talked with Yahiko, yeah. He was with people, so when he told me how he missed customer service, they started grilling him. It was kind of funny at the time. But… Am I going to get looked at like I'm crazy just for not hating my life?"

"Oh." Laurie blushed. "I'm sorry. You're right, you'll get enough of that. You don't need to hear it from me." She came out from behind the desk and gave him a hug. "Congratulations on getting a totally normal job where you don't have to hurt anyone or destroy anything."

He hugged her back. "It feels like I'm finally starting to fit back into civilian life."

"How are your nightmares?"

"Sometimes I get images, flashes of emotion. Not too bad."

She smiled. "You're right. Something mild, routine, a little boring, no loud noises or sudden moves. That's perfect for you. You know what? Feel free to take me with you when you need to go out in public. I'll fight off anyone who makes a crass comment."

"Oh, shit, no one's gonna mess with my martial arts master girlfriend."

"Damn straight they aren't. Speaking of, can I come to one of your training sessions tomorrow?"

"Yeah! Konan's gotta be free by now. I'll ask."

.

A/N: I've been reading a book called "The Out-of-Sync Child," by Carol Stock Kranowitz. The particular version I have is the second edition, which came out in 2004, so some of the concrete information in it was a little outdated. But the basic premise was not. The basic premise was that some people have sensory needs that must be considered and fulfilled or else they will not function as well as anyone wants them to. Its descriptions of how different sensory needs can manifest and what can be done to help were very enlightening. I believe everybody should read this text. I can't wait to get ahold of the third edition, which came out little more than a year ago and expands upon conditions that typically have sensory processing difficulties as part of the equation.

And in case anyone's curious, the writing contest I joined is hosted by NYC Midnight and called Short Story Challenge 2023.

See y'all next week!