"If they were my eyes, such red eyes,

I wonder could I,

Be their one and only hero,

Who saves their future?"

-Ayano's Theory of Happiness, rachie

I felt eyes on me when I stepped outside.

Konan's eyes flicked to the right. "Civilian," she signed.

The sky wasn't dark, but it wasn't quite light either. I looked up at the clouds, dark-gray in the pre-dawn light, and I wondered how I could ever get used to being without the sun again.

"Abhuraya?" Yahiko signed back.

"No. A civilian. I felt them before, on the first day."

Yahiko nodded, tilting his head back. "You know, I dreamt of this when I was little," he said. "Being strong enough to help people. Strong enough to show them that peace was possible. I always wanted to be someone others could believe in."

Konan took his hand, twining her fingers through his. "What step are we on now?"

Yahiko laughed. "One-hundred and thirty-seven."

"I thought this was one-hundred and thirty-eight," she teased.

Yahiko grinned at her like she told him the world was his and I heard her breath catch.

I looked at them, two of the people I loved most, and I thought I would do anything to keep Konan looking so happy. I would give everything to make sure Yahiko had the world.

The deepest, darkest pit in the world didn't stand a chance against Yahiko's smile.

.

.

.

Konan stood ahead of us in the genjutsu.

More people were watching, lurking behind fences or hidden in the dark. They didn't know what we were doing, but they knew it was something different, something important.

Yahiko's grin had only gotten wider.

Konan made the dispelling seal and the illusion broke. An invisible, destructive wave pulsed from her body, tearing the genjutsu down in an invisible outward wave. Holes appeared all over, revealing more and more of the palace until it was completely visible again.

The walls were a pristine white, the roof dark gray.

I heard gasps and murmurs. Hidan was watching it fall apart with wide eyes.

Konan looked up at the palace. Paper wings sprouted from her back. She took flight, the lower half of her body peeling into a whirlwind of paper as she sailed for the top floor.

I looked back and saw shocked eyes, fingers pointing up at her.

Yahiko darted forward, and I spotted the man from the day before. He stood on the white-bricked path between us and the palace, staring up, his expression slack. Slowly, he looked down and locked eyes with me.

He flinched back as Yahiko leapt over him, flipping to land feet-first on the wall of the bottom floor. He didn't look back as he ran up the side to the middle, made a quick one-handed sign, and blew a hole in the wall with a concentrated blast of water.

He swung himself inside and disappeared.

I stepped forward and noticed I was alone.

Hidan stood back behind me, holding a kunai in a white-knuckled grip. He didn't look so much like a beast like this.

He looked like a little kid, one who couldn't curse away a fight, who had the horror of war in his eyes but not the experience to stop his hands from shaking.

But there was something there. A wildness born on the field I found him on, hidden deep under his sloppy stance, his hesitance, how poorly he'd been trained. I saw it myself.

But this...

We should've left you at Hanako's house.

But we hadn't, we couldn't. He was more stubborn than I was, determined to do the opposite of what was told to him out of spite. He would've come anyway.

I wondered if this was why Yahiko paired us together. If he knew that Hidan would freeze up. If he knew I wouldn't.

It was easier to protect him if I knew where he was.

I didn't have Namekuji, but—

"Coward," I said, and he focused on me. Anger burned through fear, hesitance replaced by the fierce desire to make me eat my words.

I refocused on the man as Hidan cursed at me. He looked conflicted, eyebrows pinched, trying to fit the image of the 'little kid' with the me in an Akatsuki cloak.

I spun a kunai out of my pocket, pointed it at him, and smiled.

I saw a flash of orange out of the corner of my eye. I had a split second to register the fireball, the other man standing on the grass—muscled and shorter—and then the fireball was sailing towards me, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

People yelled, screamed, ran for cover.

I dropped to my knees and slammed both hands on the ground. A wall of earth broke through the path, shooting up northeast in front of me. The fireball slammed into it, and I felt the wave of heat, the flames licking at the sides of the wall.

I saw Hidan squinting through the bright red light, a hand thrown up to protect his eyes.

The wall didn't budge, and it didn't melt.

I flipped through one-handed signs before the fireball dissipated and wisps of earth rose up in front of me through the cracks, tangling together until I was staring at a copy of myself.

Hidan ducked down beside me, frowning deeply. He threw his kunai point-first into the dirt. He was lost in a battle of ninjutsu, and he knew it.

He didn't want to be babied, so I didn't comfort him.

I slipped my kunai back into my pocket. My clone stood and darted out from behind the wall. I made the snake sign.

"I'll be right back," I said, and held my breath. My body suddenly felt as heavy as stone. The ground broke apart under me and I fell, forcing a path through rocks and dirt with my chakra and will.

It felt a lot like being underwater, except it wasn't a slow descent. I fell fast, minerals and pebbles grating against the layer of earth chakra I'd pulled over myself like a coat.

I saw Hidan lean over the hole I left behind, and then I couldn't see anything at all. I let go of some of the chakra around me, and my body felt lighter, falling more slowly, cushioned by the dirt instead of tearing through it.

Mamoru-sensei always said I released too much.

I shut my eyes. I focused on the soft, crumbly feeling of dirt between my fingers, pushing away thoughts of the battle, of the palace, of Hidan. I concentrated on the darkness around me and slowly pushed chakra out of my body, letting it seep into the earth around me.

I let the tendrils of my chakra take the place of my sense of touch. I aimed my newfound senses upwards and felt a subtle tremor, a wave of vibrations echoing down from the surface. It was my clone. She was making her footsteps heavy on purpose, giving me something to latch onto.

She was moving fast, and I remembered what I wanted her to do—

The vibrations became harder to feel, and I narrowed my eyes.

I never used Headhunter in a fight that wasn't for practice before.

I felt more, softer vibrations coming from where I left Hidan, and I dismissed them as the watchers from before. Louder vibrations, closer to where my clone was. The man with the fire chakra. I opened my eyes.

I twisted my body, carving a path towards his vibrations. I moved my arms and legs like I was swimming, though the way I used my chakra was more like water-walking.

Keep enough chakra around my body so I stayed in place and didn't sink. Change the flow of the chakra around my hands and feet so I could break and push aside dirt. It was like being able to reach underwater while standing on the surface.

The vibrations were quieter, slipping through my fingers the longer I stopped trying to listen to them, but I didn't really need them anymore. I released more of my earth cloak and 'swam' up, knowing the man with fire chakra was above me.

My hand broke through the surface and I pulled myself up behind him. Light and sound filtered back in, and I couldn't feel the vibrations anymore.

My clone's kick clumsily blocked. She was suspended in the air for a moment, and I saw a flash of a grin before she burst into mud.

The man cursed and stumbled back, swiping at his eyes.

I gripped a kunai and stabbed it deep into the back of his knee.

He cried out as his leg buckled, and I stepped neatly out of the way as he fell backwards. He was breathing hard, and I watched him grasp at his leg, turning wide eyes onto me as I pulled out a second kunai.

He underestimated me and put everything he had into the fireball. But that was okay.

I flipped the kunai so I held it by the sharp end and hit him once in the head. A hard, solid whack. His head snapped to the side and he dropped.

I felt a sharp prick and, opening my hand, I found a cut in the middle. I tried not to hit him too hard.

"Why didn't you kill him?" Hidan asked.

I lowered my hand as he stepped closer, planting a foot on the man's side like he was a footrest.

"Because..." I trailed off.

Because it would make Naga sad.

"Because it's wrong," I finally said.

Hidan stared at me. "I don't fucking get you."

I shrugged because he wouldn't understand. He didn't know about Usagi or Naga's sad eyes or what happened in Shikkotsu. I glanced back at the other man, still standing on the path. Hidan, eyes narrowing at him, lowered his foot.

I took a deep breath and raised my voice, "Why pick Abhuraya if you don't want to fight?"

He grimaced. "You wouldn't get it," he answered gruffly. "My wife and little boys—they were starving. Abhuraya gave me the means to keep them fed, so I took it."

Wouldn't I?

I nudged the unconscious man with my foot. "And he doesn't have a family?"

The man frowned and didn't answer. I wondered if it was because he didn't know, or if he still saw me as a little kid, despite what I'd done.

"Fuck him," Hidan quipped. "He's a piece of shit anyway." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned his back on the man.

Mercy.

Did everyone deserve it? Or just the people that weren't all bad? Was anyone 'all-bad'?

Yahiko showed mercy to those Iwagakure shinobi when he didn't have to. Even though they wouldn't have shown us mercy if we were them.

Maybe the man with the crooked nose wasn't doing anything to help Abhuraya, but he didn't do anything to stop him either, had he? Did someone who would stand back and watch his town starve in the name of protecting his family deserve mercy?

I glanced down at the man with fire chakra.

Did either of them?

Did any of them?

I looked back at my earth wall. I couldn't see any of the civilians, but that didn't matter. Yahiko wanted to be seen. He didn't want us to be killers. But I didn't have to kill to have hands stained red.

I still remembered the way the blood and soot stuck to my hands when I searched my first body for weapons.

So then, what did mercy mean to me?

Not Yahiko's version of mercy. Not Naga's. Mine.

I stared at the man, and I wondered if he'd still be alive if the mission had been put in my hands.

A hand snagged my sleeve, pulling me forward, and I found myself looking at Hidan's back.

"Fucking asshole," he grumbled in explanation.

Hidan never looked back. He dragged me around to the right side of the palace, where a large set of double doors loomed above us, darker red than the roof. A fox was painted on both sides of the wall in gold.

He shoved me toward the doors, crossed his arms, and looked pointedly away when I glanced back.

I smiled anyway. "Thank—"

"Fuck your shit," Hidan loudly interrupted me. "I don't want to hear your mouth."

My smile widened, but I obliged and didn't finish. I spun back to the doors, pressed both hands against the smooth wood, and pushed until they glided open.

The floor was a sleek, shiny tan. Water dripped out from under the door and onto the grass. Men and women were lying in different positions on the ground. They didn't move. A dark red pillar in the middle of the room had a chunk carved out of the middle.

Yahiko, standing in front of a staircase, grinned when I saw him. He spun a shuriken around his pointer finger. "What took you so long?"

Pieces of round, broken lanterns were scattered across the floor and in puddles of water. A large painting of the ocean was in torn bits on the back wall.

I pointed at Hidan and he squawked.

"You bitch," he hissed. He pointed his finger right back at me. "It was because she decided to stand around staring into fucking space like the shit tart she is."

Yahiko, nodding thoughtfully, looked at me for a rebuttal.

I dropped my hand and pretended like he didn't speak. "Where's Konan?"

"You cuck fuck," Hidan said.

"It's rude to point," I sniffed.

Hidan attempted to point harder.

"Upstairs," Yahiko answered, looking around the room. "It took you so long to get here that I could've made it to Amegakure and back and still had time to go fishing after."

"Bitch," Hidan spat at me.

I kept my eyes on Yahiko. "I thought you trying to make him curse less."

"It's a long-term goal," he agreed.

"Fuck," Hidan said.

"You're doing a bad job," I informed him.

Yahiko stroked his chin. "I really do think he should take up knitting."

"Not in your shittiest dreams."

Yahiko returned the shuriken to his pouch and gestured for us to follow him upstairs. "Have you ever tried meditating, Hidan?"

"You should tickle him," I suggested.

"Fuck you and him."

Yahiko shook his head. "I'm an old man with frail old man bones," he lamented. "My super ultimate technique takes a toll on me every time I use it. I'll pull a muscle."

I smiled. "You can just say you're out of chakra and tired."

Yahiko paused, looking back at me. "I seem to distinctly remember telling you not to become like Konan," he said. "And I'm not out of chakra."

"I don't."

The middle floor was made up of straw-colored mats. Screens separated the room we came up in from the rest of the floor. Some had holes in the middle, others embedded with shuriken. A foot was sticking through a tear.

I saw clouds from the hole Yahiko made in the wall.

Konan stood in front of a screen, standing over someone in a dark blue robe. His hair was silky and black, long strands falling across his shoulders. He was pale, his fingers long and slender.

Konan half-turned and smiled. "Guys, this is Ren," she introduced, gesturing to him. "I think he should take over as the next Chief."

Ren looked up at her, eyes wide. His cheeks were sunken, his lips cracked and bleeding.

Yahiko looked him up and down, tapping his chin. "Sure."

"That's not a decision for you to make," Ren sputtered, voice soft.

He shook as he pushed himself up, leaning heavily on the screen behind him. A black belt was tied around his middle, the edges gold. His robe pooled around his feet.

"Didn't you come here to stop this jackass?" Hidan asked absently, pinky in his ear.

"We came here to stop Kunihiro Abhuraya," Konan corrected. "And we did."

"My father hasn't agreed to step down," Ren pointed out.

"He doesn't have to," Konan said. She walked over to the hole in the wall and gestured down. "You don't have the strength to put the wall back up. Your dad's supporters, well—" she gave the foot sticking out of the screen a glance. "They can't help him. He doesn't have anything left to stop the people here from forcing him out."

I stepped up to the edge of the hole and looked out. A handful of people were gathered below, whispering and pointing up at us. Two people knelt next to the man with fire chakra, tying his hands behind his back with strips of wire.

A girl standing near the back, younger than me with a gap-toothed smile, threw up her hands and cheered.

My eyes widened. No one ever cheered for us before. Not even in Amegakure.

Ren, through sheer force of will, dragged himself closer. He peered out, chest heaving, sweat beading down his face. He looked down at the crowd and frowned. "Why would they accept me?" he asked. "I'm as, if not more, guilty."

Konan smiled. "For one, we'll vouch for you," she said. "And if you feel guilty, don't you think you owe it to the people here to try and make up for what you did?"

Ren stared at her. "And if I don't want the position you're trying to force me into?"

"Then they can decide how to punish you. Or," her smile widened. "You could leave. You can abandon all the people you hurt, the town your father ran into the ground. You could be a coward just like him."

Ren's eyes flashed to hers.

They stared at each other. Neither spoke.

Yahiko appeared from behind a screen at the far end of the room, a small man tucked under his arm. Abhuraya. His hair was short and black, streaked through with gray. He was wearing an identical robe to Ren, except with more gold.

Ren frowned. He stepped towards them and his legs gave out. He fell to his knees, clinging to the wall to keep himself upright.

Yahiko gestured to Abhuraya with his free hand. "You can release the genjutsu," he said to Konan. "I think once he realizes that he's lost, he won't try anything."

Konan shook her head. "He will," she said. "It's better we keep him like that for now. I didn't check him for weapons."

"You know, my reflexes are better than yours—"

"Please," Ren choked out. He was on his hands and knees, forehead pressed to the floor. "I know he can't be easily forgiven, but he's still my father. Please be gentle with him."

"We won't hurt him," Konan promised.

With that she tilted her head back, let the sun hit her face, and tipped backwards. She dropped down a few feet, her cloak flapping wildly before paper wings opened at her back and she righted herself.

"How the fuck?" Hidan asked.

"Always the show-off," Yahiko said at the same time, shaking his head.

"What will they do to my father?" Ren asked, never lifting his head.

"I couldn't tell you," Yahiko answered lightly. "That's not part of our mission."

Ren's fingers curled. "And if it was?" he asked. "What would you do if you were one of the people here?"

Yahiko looked out at the sky. "I'd need more information," he eventually said. "We know as much as we need to about you and your father, but not enough to understand why it turned out like this from your side," he paused, catching the surprise in Ren's eyes. He laughed a little, rubbing the back of his head.

"I know that wouldn't matter to most people, but I'm going to be the leader of my village one day and making decisions just on how I feel will get the people I care about killed. So, I'm working on seeing everything from both sides. I'd need to talk to my friends about it too..." he trailed off, looking thoughtful.

I wondered if he would ask me what I thought. I wondered even more what I would say.

Did Abhuraya deserve mercy?

People backed away as Konan floated down, forming a half-circle around her. They looked at her like she was something otherworldly.

Ren was looking at Yahiko differently, too. "Why does your friend want me to be Chief? Do you know?"

"Because she saw something in you," Yahiko answered, half-shrugging. "I don't know what, but I know there's a reason you're not under her genjutsu." Adjusting Abhuraya in his grip, he headed for the stairs.

"Fucking finally. I thought you'd never shut up," Hidan said, following him.

"I think I have just enough energy to use my super ultimate technique after all," Yahiko drawled, footsteps fading.

Ren collapsed back against the corner of the wall, looking out over the town. "I never wanted any of this," he admitted quietly to himself.

"Too bad."

Ren's head jerked my way.

I turned away from him, searching for words in the shapes the clouds made. I thought I saw a raindrop.

"They deserve better," I said. I glanced down at the people of Suisai. Some were on their knees in front of Konan, while others had closed the gap, talking too quietly for me to hear, hands clasped. "Abhuraya kept taking and taking from them when they needed his help the most. It wasn't their fault they couldn't grow food or people don't come here anymore, but you punished them like it was."

I looked at Ren and he drew back, burned by the fire in my eyes.

"Punished? My father—he never—"

"I used to be so hungry it felt like I was dying," I interrupted him. "I was too little to understand how I felt back then. But now I know it felt like I was being punished just for being alive."

Did I have it in me to be merciful?

Yahiko stepped out into the open and allowed them to take Abhuraya from him. Konan made the dispelling seal behind her back.

"Haruto told us Abhuraya made him choose between the town or being able to eat and, when he picked the town, all his friends went away. Did he lie?"

Ren frowned and didn't answer. It was enough of one.

People stepped forward to shake Yahiko's hand or bow to him. Abhuraya, looking around wildly, was louder than the crowd as his hands were tied behind his back.

I flexed my fingers. I could kill Ren and he would deserve it.

What was my own version of mercy?

Ren was the reason we were here. He kept Abhuraya safe at the cost of everyone else.

He turned his gaze back down to the growing crowd. "I wasn't aware that that's what starvation felt like," he said quietly. "I don't deny my part in this. But, don't you have people you love so much you'd do anything for? Even give up your own life?"

"I would feed everyone," I said heatedly.

Ren's smile was faint. "That wasn't what I asked."

"I wouldn't—" the words caught in my throat.

Would I choose Amegakure over Naga?

It was easy to say I would. Easy to think that if I had to choose between my brother's life and the lives of everyone in Amegakure, I could make that choice. But what I felt was reluctance.

"You and your leader were right about some things," Ren said absently. "I asked you to be kind to my father, but I never tried to see the situation from your perspective."

Maybe in a life-or-death situation, I wouldn't choose Amegakure over my brother but—

"I wouldn't let anyone starve," I said firmly, sitting on the ledge next to him. "Because I know what it's like."

I could see shock on the faces of the people below as they stared up at the palace, touched my wall, or looked at the stretch of burned grass.

"Part of me still wants to protect my father," Ren admitted, watching him be led away. "But when my illusion was broken, I knew I couldn't anymore. I stood no chance against your friend."

I hummed. "Did you get hurt?"

Ren tilted his head back. "That would be the easier explanation but no, I wasn't. The genjutsu I used—it was never meant for this. I learned it to entertain the daimyo and his guests," he explained. "It was never supposed to be spread over such a wide area. I didn't have the reserves to maintain it for more than a day, but I forced myself to keep it up. I lost consciousness more than once."

I looked at him, at the stark veins I could see through his pale skin. "You would've died."

Ren looked out again and didn't speak for a few seconds. "I've never met the people here," he admitted. "I arrived with my father, but we kept our distance. I never saw myself as a someone living here until your friend barged into my room and threatened my father."

"Now you can," I said, turning a little more towards him. "You can do better for them."

"What did she see in me?" Ren murmured.

I swung my legs. "You could go and ask her."

"I... can't move," he admitted.

"I could knock you off," I offered.

Ren looked at me, unsure if I was joking. "I don't think that would help," he said tentatively.

I smiled. "Someone down there would catch you."

"I would be very embarrassed to die that way."

"You won't die—"

"What the fuck are you doing?" Hidan asked, sauntering over, hands in his pockets.

"Where were you?" I asked back at him, gesturing down.

"None of your fucking business."

I smiled. "You came back up because the crowd made you nervous," I guessed.

Hidan's face went red. "You talk a lot of shit for someone up here."

"I was talking to Ren."

Hidan looked over, as if noticing him for the first time.

Ren hesitated. "We met a few minutes ago—"

"Shut the fuck up," Hidan cut him off. He squeezed in next to me, pushing and shoving until I moved over.

Ren blinked.

"If I wanted to hear shit, I'd go find a toilet," he added.

Ren blinked a second time.

"Ew."

"What? You'd rather I shit right here?" he asked.

"The fall is longer than it looks," I chirped.

"Oh, fuck right off."

A/N: Fun Fact: Originally, Ren had a very minor role.

The-Killer40513: "In terms of money, we have no money."