"I wish that I could just erase,
the memories that I've come to hate,
and only leave the good behind,
I don't think I would mind."
-Astronauts, rachie
We had to move the table.
Osamu sat in a corner, staring down at his hands. His flak-jacket was off, the sleeves torn into strips. Most of his right sleeve was looped around his head, covering his eye. Other pieces had been tied together, coated in Namekuji's slime, and then wrapped around his chest and stomach wounds. The slime was supposed to numb the pain for a little while.
It took Naga only half the time to fix Osamu as it took for Mamoru.
Yahiko and I had pushed the table back into the kitchen area. Osamu took up a third of the hideout all by himself.
Mamoru-sensei sat at one end on the table, a cold cup of tea in his hand, staring down at it. Yahiko was across from him, nibbling on a small, half-eaten fish. Next to him, Konan broke off the bones of hers and ate them.
I sat on a counter, swinging my feet. Naga was on the floor, wearing a shirt that was too small.
Mamoru finally looked up. "Was it Shuji?" he asked Osamu.
Konan paused. I stopped swinging my feet.
Osamu didn't look up. His eyes were sad. "No," he answered. "It wasn't."
Mamoru clutched his cup a little tighter.
"It was Lord Hanzo—" he stopped. His fingers curled. "Shuji might've started this, but it was Hanzo who decided that having friends was a weakness he couldn't afford anymore. He... He isn't the same. After you and Tadao—" he faltered. "Hanzo stopped trusting anyone who wasn't himself."
Mamoru's cup cracked.
"I thought if I saw him alone, if I talked to him and reminded him of the peace we used to fight for—" Osamu's shoulders sagged. "I thought I could fix this. But he wouldn't see me. He wouldn't hear anything I tried to tell him."
"What happened?" Mamoru asked tightly.
Osamu was silent for a few seconds. "Lord—" he cut himself off. "I was at the bar looking for proof that Shuji was a traitor, and then Hanzo came in. He was dressed for war. He stopped asking me to watch his back a long time ago, but I still did everything he asked of me," he released a long, tired breath. "Hanzo told me I was a liability, and then he attacked."
"How did you get away?" Yahiko asked. He leaned back, fish forgotten on the table.
Osamu's eyes snapped to his, and I saw hesitance. I saw the look Mamoru gave us before Naga healed him. He looked at Yahiko like he was a kid inserting himself into a conversation for grown-ups.
Yahiko saw it too, because his smile was faint.
Osamu glanced at Mamoru, and his eyes asked him to talk privately somewhere else.
Yahiko shook his head. "There's nothing you can say that'll be worse than what we've already seen," he said lightly. "I met Konan on a battlefield," he nodded at her, but she didn't smile. "We used to steal weapons off the dead. We saw Hanzo fight the sanin. It's too late to try and protect us."
Osamu frowned deeply. "It shouldn't be that way," he rumbled. "The village—it can be better than this—"
"It will be better," Yahiko interrupted matter-of-factly. "After I've allied with Hanzo and stopped the war."
Osamu stared at him, eyes wide.
"We're not ready yet," Yahiko admitted. "Almost. But once we are, we'll bring peace back to the world. You and everyone else that doubt me only have to sit back and watch, because we'll change the world." He grinned. "We'll start here, and we'll stop the rain."
There was almost wonder in Osamu's eyes.
There was a moment—Naga smiling, Konan not-so-discreetly taking Yahiko's fish—that almost felt normal. Like Naga's visit wasn't temporary. Like a stranger wasn't sitting in our hideout, depressed and wounded.
Then Mamoru spoke, "Answer the question."
The air felt colder. Osamu pressed his knuckles together. "Hanzo let me go."
The cup shattered in Mamoru's grip. Blood and glass and tea spilled all over the table.
Konan gasped and shot up, scooping up a small blanket.
Mamoru never took his eyes off Osamu. I only saw Mamoru-sensei angry one other time, when he told us about Shuji and Danzo. It was almost like it was the answer he expected, but the last one he wanted to hear.
"I never fought back," Osamu explained. "I still thought of him as my friend. He was trying to kill me, but I still called him my lord. Instead, he exiled me—"
"I only fought back after he took my arm," Mamoru snapped.
Konan mopped up the tea and herded the glass into a neat pile. Naga didn't move to heal Mamoru's bloody hand.
Osamu's eyes darted away. "Tadao—he told me that during your fight, Hanzo hesitated," he said tentatively.
Mamoru stared hard at him, the promise of violence swirling in his eyes.
"Sensei," Konan said, quiet and calm, a blanket full of glass in her lap.
Mamoru's eyes flicked to hers. A second later he leaned back and closed his eyes.
"I wasn't trying to get on your bad side—" Osamu began, apologetic.
"What happened to the Root agents that followed you?" Mamoru interrupted him.
"I took care of them," he said, hesitant. "There were only four. Hanzo should've known to send more if he wanted others to kill me for him."
"It wasn't Hanzo," Konan pointed out. She was standing, carrying a wrapped bundle of cup fragments.
Osamu blinked at her.
"The Hanzo I knew wasn't a coward," Mamoru explained for her. "That old bastard we met from Konohagakure is the one who sent them after you."
Realization dawned in Osamu's eyes, but then his brows furrowed. "What would Danzo gain from killing me?"
"You're a loose end," Mamoru answered as Konan went outside to get rid of the pieces. "Hanzo cut ties with you, but if you decided to come back, you could still have some influence over him."
Osamu looked troubled. "He would kill me before he let me speak to him again."
Mamoru shook his head. "Danzo doesn't know Hanzo like we did."
Osamu didn't respond.
All eyes went to Naga when he stood. "I'm heading back," he announced.
I looked at him and I knew that this made him remember why he stayed away. Root. Usagi. Danzo. All tying back to the fact that Naga didn't want to have to kill anyone else.
"You'll be okay, right?" His hands were on my shoulders.
I stared up at Naga and felt like a kunai was twisting my insides, digging deeper and deeper the longer I looked at him.
How do I make you stay?
I tried to smile, because his training made him happy. It made him stronger. I didn't have the words to change his mind.
Yahiko and Konan didn't stop him because this was still the most dangerous part of his training. It could be bad if he didn't take it seriously. Maybe they were surer than I was that he would come back.
I couldn't smile.
Concern bloomed in Naga's eyes. "Oka?" he asked.
Why is it so hard to tell you how I feel?
My fists clenched, because they were all I ever had. I knew what to say for small things like making Yahiko laugh or Konan smile, but not for the big things, like telling Naga how to feel better after killing someone. It was always other people that spoke for me.
Naga, who talked to Yahiko the first time we met. Yahiko, who decided what we were going to do and how to do it. Konan, who only wanted me to listen when she told me about her Mama and Papa.
I was always action. Naga put an apple in my hand and told me to eat. Jiraya put a kunai in my hand and taught me to fight. Mamoru-sensei gave me the tools to make a wall. No one ever taught me to make people feel better.
So, I did the only thing I knew how to do.
I lunged at him.
My fingers dug into his shoulders and Naga toppled, crying out. Konan stood in the doorway, Namekuji behind her, mouth hanging open as Naga hit the ground. Mamoru turned fast, startled.
Osamu, not knowing me or Naga or anyone, still tried to reach out and stop us. It was only the pain in his middle that made him falter.
Yahiko was the only one who didn't move at all.
I dug my knee into Naga's stomach, listening to the breath leave him in a rush. His eyes were wide as he stared up at me. "Oka—" he coughed. "What—"
I raised my fist, hovering above him, rage and anger and guilt squeezing and squeezing me until I was shaking.
Rage, because Naga always knew how I felt, except the one time I needed him to.
Anger at Lady Chiyoko, at Naga for not coming back, for leaving so soon.
Guilt because I was hurting him and he didn't deserve it.
"Oka!" Konan said, all concern and the need to help. She took a step forward, her right foot sinking deeply into Namekuji's body. She made a surprised sound and tried to free herself, but he didn't let go.
I lifted my arm higher. It would be so easy to punch him. He was looking at me—at my fist—and he was bewildered. I wanted to, so he'd finally finally understand, but he wouldn't. Naga was confused and concerned, but he didn't speak the language of violence like I did.
If I hit him, nothing would change. I lowered my hand, suddenly very tired.
Naga's smile was shaky, and he only did it because he thought he always had to smile for me. "Still the same little wolf as always," he said, trying to be playful, his eyes searching mine.
I climbed off him. "I don't know how to make you stay," I said quietly.
His eyes widened. The smile faded.
"It hurts," I admitted. "It always hurts when you go." All I had were my stupid fists and the kunai in my pocket, but they were too harsh for this. "Bye, Naga," I said, giving him one last look, and then I walked away.
.
.
.
Mamoru sat beside a ghost and tried to make himself believe he was real.
After Tadao, Mamoru convinced himself that the next time he saw Osamu, it would be as a corpse. He mentally prepared for it, because he couldn't afford to go completely numb again when he was depended on. The grief had only recently stopped feeling so raw.
There was a candle on the table made from recycled wax, throwing flickering orange light around the room. He had a vague memory of getting up to light it when he couldn't see his hand in front of his face anymore.
Konan was asleep, curled on her side in the hallway. Nagato was on his stomach on the floor in front of Mamoru, Oka facedown against his chest. A blanket was tangled around her.
After her outburst Nagato had been subdued, watching her all day with sad eyes. He'd barely moved since then.
Yahiko was close enough to be used as Oka's footrest. He was on his stomach, head turned away.
Osamu was looking at him, sneaking glances when he thought he wasn't paying attention.
There was an awkwardness between them that hadn't been there before. It wasn't Osamu's fault—other than having his loyalty spat on, he was the same. Mamoru was the one that was different.
He didn't trust Osamu. It was hard to, when he'd already quietly mourned him. His instincts told him the man was a fake, a transformation, but the personality was too spot on.
What did it say about him that he didn't feel relieved that his old friend was alive? He just felt tired.
Namekuji liked to sleep in the bathroom cupboard, the sink, and several other strange places. Mamoru never asked why. Namekuji was a weird slug (a perfect fit for his students) and he left it at that. It helped a little that his students all acted like it was perfectly normal—
"Daiki's dead," Osamu said suddenly.
The name didn't ring a bell. Mamoru glanced sideways at Osamu. "Daiki?"
"The bartender," he clarified. "The one Tadao went to for information back before..."
Huh. He didn't know the bartender had a name. No one ever called him by it, anyway. Though, last time Mamoru checked, 'the bartender' had retired from spying for Hanzo.
"He told me about Tadao," Osamu said quietly.
Mamoru looked at him, and he saw the deep abyss of grief in Osamu's eyes, as fresh as the dirt he used to bury Tadao.
He didn't want to talk about Tadao.
"Hanzo must've been following you around for a while," Mamoru said idly.
Osamu studied him and his lack of a reaction, his eyes widening. "You—You knew?"
His missing arm ached. Mamoru contemplated waking up one of his students for a late-night training (distraction) session and thought about who would complain the least (Nagato).
Osamu shuffled, turning a bit more towards him. "Tadao was hurt when I last saw him. Badly hurt. But he was alive. What happened to him?"
Numbness crept inside Mamoru's head. "It doesn't matter," he said, harsher than he meant it to be. "He's dead. Let him be dead."
Osamu drew back, hurt.
Mamoru couldn't find it in himself to feel sorry. "Did Hanzo finally feed Shuji to Ibuse?" he asked instead.
"I don't know," Osamu said, but he was looking at Mamoru like he was something alien. "We don't meet like we used to. I last saw him two days ago."
Maybe it was better that way. Death was too easy for him.
"You look and sound the same, but you're not you. I don't know this you at all."
Mamoru's brow twitched. "I look the same?"
Osamu looked at his empty sleeve and said nothing at all.
"Who told you about this place, Osamu?" Mamoru asked, more seriously.
"Daiki," Osamu admitted, looking at his lap. "He didn't tell me your location. He only told me that Tadao went east. He said to keep going until I reached the border."
The bartender was the type of man that could stand directly in front of someone, and if that person was questioned later, they wouldn't remember him at all.
It told Mamoru that the child-soldiers Root called agents visited the bar and talked about mission details within earshot of the bartender. It had only been a matter of time before they found Inu or what was left of Usagi after all.
They thought Tadao killed them.
The numbness spread, creeping down his spine.
"Why did you come here?" Mamoru asked, because he had to. "You said you were still loyal. Hanzo'll wish he dealt with you when he had the chance if you're seen with me."
"You're not a traitor," Osamu said firmly, then his eyes dropped to the floor. "Hanzo didn't give me a chance to think about what Daiki said about Tadao. It wasn't until after that I realized what it meant that Tadao was dead."
Osamu clenched his fists. "I interrupted their fight," he admitted. "I didn't know why it happened. Tadao never did anything. I thought it was Shuji again, but it wasn't. Tadao was looking for you. That's all he did. What Hanzo did to Tadao was too far."
It wasn't Shuji.
It took a second for Mamoru to process that, to realize just how much damage Shuji had done the first time with him. He'd damaged Hanzo's relationships with his friends so much that all he had to do was sit back and watch as Hanzo's paranoia ate him alive.
Mamoru glanced at his students, because it was all he could do to keep the grief from coming back.
Osamu looked up at him. "I never imagined you as a teacher," he said.
It took Mamoru a second to even realize he spoke. "It wasn't my idea," he said. "Believe me."
To Osamu, it might've sounded sarcastic, even regretful, but Mamoru owed his students more than they would ever know. They'd given him a purpose, when, without the deal Yahiko roped him into, it would've been just as easy to go back to Hanzo's tower for revenge and get himself killed.
"You should watch yourself around that one," Mamoru said, gesturing towards Yahiko. "He's a lot more trouble than he looks."
Osamu followed his hand. "Do you really think they could do what we couldn't?"
"Without a doubt," Mamoru said.
Osamu was quiet for a few seconds. "Iwagakure declared war on Konohagakure," he told him, almost reluctantly. "There were small skirmishes before, but now it's official."
Mamoru closed his eyes. He stood. "You should rest," he said mildly. He felt Osamu's eyes on him as he walked to the door, but he didn't look back as he opened it and stepped out.
.
.
.
Yahiko's eyes were half open.
He'd woken up when Oka's foot dug painfully into his kidney, but it was Osamu and Mamoru-sensei that kept him awake. He was silent as they talked, breathing slowly, evenly, feigning sleep.
He heard everything.
Only when he heard the front door shut did he let himself fall back asleep.
A/N: Buckle up readers, because it's time to dive into the timeline.
Naruto . Fandom . c / wiki/User:Seelentau/Naruto_Timeline is the timeline I used as a base to figure out how old Nagato was when he met Jiraiya.
Nagato was 19 when Naruto was born (Naruto's Part II age minus Nagato's Part II age).
In Axis' canon, there was a two year gap between the Second and Third Shinobi World War.
Itachi Uchiha is 4 years old.
axis!Hidan is 8 years old (being a year older than Itachi, canon!Hidan is 5, so the age-up isn't too high).
Sasori is 12 years old.
Deidara isn't born yet (and I'm extremely tempted to age him up).
Kakuzu is a missing-nin.
Kisame Hoshigaki is not a member of the Seven Ninja Swordsman yet.
Obito is not Tobi yet.