We were all looking forward to our arrival at the Kiiroi Tokage outpost. Though my teammates wouldn't be able to grasp the analogy, escort missions, to ninja, were like those quests in video games where you had to follow an NPC to a destination. One where your base movement speed was twice as fast as theirs. It sucked. We'd all much rather just guard something stationary, or really just do anything else altogether.

Yes, we were quite glad to have reached our destination. We weren't quite as glad to see it already occupied.

"That…complicates things," Iwao muttered, staring at the encampment. There must have been over a hundred people sprawled across the plains, spilling out past the few standing buildings and wells. It was unclear whether or not they had seen us yet.

"Those are nomads, right?" Iwao asked for confirmation, turning to look at Haruto.

"Yep," he answered, and I got the sense that he wasn't particularly pleased with this development either. He'd probably prefer to keep this job on the DL, since he undoubtedly dealt a fair bit with missing-nin, especially those who were hired as protection details. Being seen with us might result in some complications for him down the road.

"The Tengu Group, specifically," he elaborated. "Their mark is on the flags they bear."

"There are a lot more of them than I imagined," I muttered to Daigo. When I'd read about the nomad groups, I got the impression that they consisted of two to three families traveling together for survival. I didn't expect even half this amount of people.

I understood now why these outposts were so important, and why hiring missing-nin guards was crucial. There were a lot of cattle here. Like, one for every other person. They stood or lay on the ground, completely unfettered. Not free to leave, however, as I could see the much smaller forms of dogs watching the herd carefully.

Just one of those full grown steer, once slaughtered, could feed someone for days. Stealing a handful could guarantee a not-insignificant degree of food security that you'd be hard pressed to find anywhere else in Sōgen.

Related side note—the weather was cloudy for the first time since we entered this nation. I wasn't sure what natural phenomena caused it, but I could feel its effects on the chaotically whipping winds, which seemed to converge in this spot, bringing rains that nurtured the flora. It was actually (mostly) green here!

This situation seemed to excite the Jashinists. They were chomping at the bit to make "first contact," once again disregarding any sense of self-preservation. But that's why we were here, I supposed. We insisted that they hold back, and Iwao's tone was so severe that they forgot we could only give them suggestions, not orders.

"You should know, then, who the missing-nin guards are," Iwao asked, expectantly. He wanted specific names that we could look up in the bingo book. Haruto pursed his lips.

"You're putting me in a very difficult spot, here," he said, mildly, and I could tell Iwao wanted to throw his arms up into the air.

"You were the one to take this job!" He seethed. "Hell, you all but forced us into it! Are you telling me that you didn't spare a single thought into how it might turn out?"

"No, I certainly did," the considerably older but still objectively young ninja said. "It's just that, there are easy ways for us to all play our parts and come out better for it. However, I'm starting to get the sense that you're just not willing to merely do your job, as most would in this situation. Your dedication to your job is as inspiring as it is…" he struggled to find a word. Luckily for him, I was a cunning linguist in my past life.

"Annoying?" I supplied helpfully.

Clearly happy to have at least someone with a sense of humor around, he nodded emphatically.

"Yes. Annoying. Absolutely infuriating, if I may be so bold."

I snorted, and Iwao shot me a dirty look.

"You're looking to collect bounties. I understand that, but I promise that you will have plenty of opportunities. Starting a fight with the missing-nin here will do nothing to help your situation, and everything to harm it."

"We can't turn a blind eye to missing-nin," Iwao spat. "And I trust even less that, if we did agree to leave them alone, they would honor any truce. Even if they decide they can't take us, they might tell every other missing-nin in the area, and before we know it, we'll be harassed without reprieve! You were the one claiming that there are missing-nin in this country worth being wary of, right?"

"Loyal and missing ninja do not mix," Daigo said, deigning to speak up for once. "End of story. Even if it doesn't benefit them, they will act to spite us."

It could be easily argued that they only took those actions to prevent our own retribution further down the line, and that it was all proactive self-defense. It was a chicken and the egg situation. I could all but see that particular argument on Haruto's lips, but he rightly judged that we weren't the right audience to receive it.

"Fine," he said. "I didn't want to have to do this again, but you've left me no choice. Makishi-san!"

Iwao was so annoyed that he literally hissed like a cat. I was too entertained to care—Kami, Haruto was tattling on us!

"Makishi-san," he said with a false, sunny smile as the priest (or whatever his equivalent position was called) waddled over. "We seem to have reached a complication, and would greatly value your counsel."

Yes, we totally valued this nimrod's counsel. I frequently had to remind myself not to speak to him as if our ages were reversed.

"Of course!" He agreed, flattered. Iwao ground his teeth behind closed lips.

"Excellent! It's a moral issue, really, so there is no one more equipped than a man of faith to solve it."

Oh, kami. He was taking this angle.

"See, our good Shinobi friends here follow their own code of ethics. A big tenant of that is loyalty, which they hold true to with an iron grip. Quite admirable, no? The very idea of breaking those tenants by deserting is abominable, regardless of the reason, so they make an oath to eliminate every missing-nin they lay eyes on. However, in this case, the repercussions of that are, well, not very good."

I already knew Haruto was cunning, but this was especially well-executed. By expressing his respect for us instead of simply calling us hard headed (like we were acting), he was binding us in the near unbreakable chains of decorum. We would sound like the unreasonable ones if we didn't do the same.

"While our shinobi friends are right to be wary of any missing-nin they come across, the fact of the matter is that nomad groups, like the Tengu here, depend on some missing-nin to safeguard them against others that wish them ill. It's not a job that anyone can simply apply for. There are no kages to go through, no trusty middleman that might offer any sense of accountability. One wrong choice could result—and has resulted—in the loss of everything they hold dear. Relationships between nomads and their guards, in many cases, have been built over years, even decades. They are crucial fixtures of life here in Sōgen no Kuni. You're here in this land to help these people, aren't you? If these missing-nin are killed, not only would the Tengu group lose some of their close friends, but it could very well doom them. As soon as unfriendly missing-nin realize they are without a guard, they will swarm upon them like vultures over a carcass."

Haruto was a smooth talker; that couldn't be debated. Iwao was too, but he could only do so much by applying makeup to a pig this ugly. Morally, we were in the wrong because, at the heart of the issue, we needed to ensure the safety of our clients. However, the entire reason we were in this situation to begin with was that our clients wanted to help these people, creating an unsolvable paradox.

Add into the mix that the Jashinists were kinda sorta stupid, and lacked a healthy fear of death. Then, the resolution was a forgone conclusion.

"Well, that we certainly can't have," Makishi said, decisively, predictably. He turned to us, pleadingly. "Isn't there any way you could overlook the missing-nin, just this once?"

Iwao opened his mouth, then closed it. He had no idea what to say. Even though he had been given the authority to make decisions, he wasn't immune from punishment if said decisions strayed too far from Iwa's sensibilities. Biwa-sensei would likely intercede before anything official came back to bite us; in fact, if Iwao agreed and it was truly unacceptable, the Tsuchikage's son would almost definitely butt in before any harm could be done. Still, even though he'd grown more comfortable around the Biwa-sensei, he didn't want his idol to judge him for perceived lax morals. Especially concerning a topic as sensitive as this.

"It's true that we're supposed to kill any missing-nin we see," I mused to spare him, capturing everyone's attention. "But what if we…didn't see them?"

The statement seemed to render everyone speechless for a moment.

"You're serious?" Iwao deadpanned. "The pedantic approach? No one in command would accept that."

"To be clear, are you suggesting that you wear blindfolds during the communication, or are you asking me to tell the Tengu's protectors to make themselves scarce?" Haruto asked.

"A little known third option," I elaborated. "There's a nifty little jutsu I'd imagine they all know called the Henge."

Seriously. It was a staple technique in every village, and half the time people forgot it existed.

"Haruto-san can be our middleman and arrange a meeting. Let's say…four people on each side. Does that sound good?"

"I'm worried about what kind of message that would send," Makishi said, wringing his hands fretfully.

"Actually, this isn't too far from how contact is normally established between nomad tribes," Haruto disagreed, actually in our favor this time. "Usually, however, said contact is established days earlier by forerunners."

"Well, they'll have to make do with a couple hours and you," I returned, which Iwao took issue with.

"Without us present, he could give up all of our information, possibly sending runners from the assembled missing-nin to gather enemies far more threatening than he is," our team leader said to me, as if I didn't already know that. "After which, they'll help themselves to whatever our clients have, perhaps killing them all if they feel merciful."

Haruto rubbed at his temples.

"You are a deeply mistrusting child," he complained.

"I trust just the right amount."

"If he has an inclination to do that, it's already too late," I pointed out. "He'd have done it by now. Summons, remember? But there is the possibility, no matter how unlikely, that there is someone present among the Tengu group's protectors that stands a chance against us. I can think of a simple way to keep Haruto-san honest, in that case. Just let me babysit cute little Saburō-chan for the duration of our visit."

Haruto gave a little start, suddenly wary. Though, conspicuously, he didn't say anything. He couldn't, really, without coming off as sketchy.

I wasn't just betting on his love and affection for his pet. Saburō was his personal summon; we'd seen him use some of the techniques associated with that designation. If the lizard was killed, he wouldn't just be out of a partner. He would quite literally lose a part of himself. His mind and his chakra would not remain intact.

Mileage may vary on the ramifications of such a loss. It really depended on the strength of the relationship; for the Kamizuru, they had different tiers of closeness among their wasp colonies. Most of the tiny ones could be killed with no feedback, though that lack of intimacy also meant they couldn't be summoned with the titular technique. The death of a mid-tier personal summon could disrupt them in a fight, but the giant ones? The death of one of those could drive a Kamizuru temporarily insane, though they could get over it with time.

Meanwhile, if an Inuzuka lost one of their bonded hounds before they could begin the lengthy process of severing the mental connection, they'd never fully recover. According to the material I've consumed, at least.

Since Saburō could be summoned, and could share senses with Haruto, I was willing to bet that his death couldn't be shrugged off. Which meant the little reptile made for a pretty good hostage.

"He could just summon him away from us," Daigo pointed out, but as I pretended to scratch an itch on my shoulder, toying with the tightly-wound bandages there, he realized exactly what I was suggesting.

"That wouldn't be very clever of him," I said, mildly.

If he used the summoning technique, the mental feedback of losing his personal summons would be the least of his problems. Once I was through fashioning the lizard a snazzy new vest out of sensory activated exploding tags, there wouldn't be a trigger finger for him to outrun. If he thought he could beat me to the punch, he would be in for a rude awakening once he teleported a live bomb onto himself.

"I still don't know if Biwa-sensei will go for this," Iwao muttered. "He isn't one for technicalities."

"I'm sure he doesn't love it, but none of us do, and we're at an impasse," I pointed out. "Plus, I think that, if he really has a problem with it, he'd say so. Like, right now."

There was nothing. He probably wanted plausible deniability to our plausible deniability, because there was no way he wasn't listening in.

"You're overthinking it, Iwao-kun," I said to him like we were five-years-old again. "Don't worry, if the missing-nin make problems, I'll handle them."

"If you handle them, there won't be an outpost left for our clients to occupy," Iwao shot back, and I raised a single eyebrow in offense.

"Name one time—"

"Setsuna Pass," he shot back, not even letting me finish. It was the site of one of our missions, following our first C-rank where I fought Sasori. Simple job; bandits were picking off merchants traveling through a certain section of the Sekitsui. I taught them the error of their ways by bringing an avalanche on their heads. Which totally blocked off the pass altogether. However…

"I wasn't trying very hard not to destroy the Pass," I pointed out. "Not with Biwa-sensei there to fix it in two seconds flat. Try again."

That wasn't a real invitation, but Iwao took it as one anyway.

"Yōsai Ninety-Four," he shot back, and I suddenly felt a tad sheepish. That was during our mission to touch up old wartime strongholds. A band of missing nin found one years ago, and had been holing up in it ever since. In the process of spring cleaning, I blew it to kingdom come. The damage was so bad that an annoyed Biwa-sensei had decided to bury the entire thing and dig a new one from scratch.

"That was a long time ago!" I defended. "I've grown a lot since then."

"It was last month."

That brought me up short.

"Was it really?" I asked meekly. "It feels so long ago."

"Probably because updates are so infrequent," Daigo muttered under his breath.

"Shut up, Deadpool. I'm sure there's a good reason," I retorted, ignoring him to glare at Iwao with little heat. We had an audience, and they looked somewhere between entertained and confused. Without context, our exchange probably didn't seem as alarming as it should have been. I gave Makishi and Haruto a cute pout that said don't mind me, I'm just a helpless little klutz.

"Exploding tags are fun," I said, petulantly kicking a loose pebble. "Bet you can't name a third…fourth? Fifth? You know what, point taken. Haruto-san, please hand over your pal. If you don't stab us in the back, I promise I won't touch a single hair—er, scale—on his widdle head."

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

We backtracked a ways, settling down for the night well out of the nomads' view as Haruto made contact. He was back by the time we awoke, and declared that he had brokered a meeting, though he didn't appear to be the bundle of joy he always was.

No one else seemed to care, but I sidled up to him when no one was looking.

"Something the matter?" I asked.

"Nothing I can put into words," he replied, giving me the side eye. "I'm just getting a bad feeling. Not that we're in any danger—just that Makishi-san won't be as well received as he expects."

If it was anyone else on my team asking, he probably wouldn't have even said that much. I snorted.

"I expected that before we even left Iwa," I said. "Their whole shtick, pulling up to a poor country with pristine wagons and clean clothes that probably cost more than anyone living there would see in their lives…even if they're offering aid, it's condescending. And people don't like being condescended to."

Looking over the assembled Jashinists, all scurrying around to prepare for the meeting and talking animatedly amongst themselves, I felt the same bad feeling Haruto was referring to. They weren't attending the meeting, but they were all certain that, as soon as the natives' strange little custom was fulfilled, they would be welcomed to the outpost immediately and with open arms.

At the start of this mission, I felt nothing but derision towards them. When I learned the truth about their faith, that derision turned to suspicion, even fear. But as I coexisted with the Jashinists for days, my fruitless investigation bringing me to integrate with them closely, I had almost grown fond of them as individuals.

They were clueless, yes. But so were toddlers, and those little gremlins could be endearing sometimes. They really were trying to help people, albeit in a way that felt a little icky. They were simply due for a reality check, and I was afraid they were going to get one.

"It's just a matter of whether or not the Tengu leader is proud enough to overlook that or not," I continued. "If they're desperate enough, they'll grit their teeth and bear it, accepting whatever our clients offer. If not…well, I hope for their sake they don't respond with violence."

I could feel Haruto's eyes on me, but I didn't meet his gaze.

"You're a very mature child," he observed. "You all are."

I shrugged.

"Do you think Tsuchibokori no Biwa would give us the time of day if we weren't?" I asked, rhetorically. "Hell naw. A normal brat would have driven him to murder."

Saburō squirmed in my arms lighty, not trying to escape. Just fidgeting. I hadn't let go of him since Haruto first left, and I wouldn't until the missing-nin were long gone. I had been relegated to babysitter—why wouldn't I be? There wasn't room on the diplomacy squad. Iwao would be there for protection, Biwa-sensei for intimidation, Haruto as a translator (metaphorically and literally, since Sōgen was so isolated that their dialect had mutated into something almost unrecognizable to foreigners) and Makishi of course as the representative. I didn't really bring anything to the table here, so I'd stay in the wings. I wasn't bent out of shape over it.

"You should get over there," I said. "Do your best. I'd much rather be spared the drama."

He chuckled. "You and me both. Keep an eye on Saburō for me. Please, no…mishaps."

I was holding the lizard in a very intentional way, which hid the rigged explosion tags under my arms. However, Haruto still undoubtedly knew they were there.

"He'll be just fine so long as you don't try to summon him," I promised, and he had no choice but to take my word for it. He joined the rest of his group, shirking under Biwa-sensei's menacing stare, and I took my own place on Daigo's side.

"And now we wait," the genjutsu specialist muttered, and I nodded in agreement.

I felt like I was watching a train barreling towards a parked car, helpless to stop it. Well, perhaps that was a tad overdramatic. More like watching your brother make "friends" with a girl who said that boys were just "less drama." Some things you just had to let happen, but that didn't make them any easier to watch.

We were far away, but I could still see bits of the outpost through my binoculars. I kept watch, more as a distraction than any urgent need as I stroked Saburō's smooth scales. Finally, I saw movement.

"I…think they're leaving," I murmured to Daigo with a frown.

"Our representatives?" he clarified, and I shook my head and handed him the instrument.

"Look."

It was hard to make out, even through the lenses, but there was someone rousing the cattle. I could tell because most of them were lying down, and were being forced to rise.

"I thought we weren't kicking the Tengu out of the outpost," Daigo said with a frown.

"I don't think we are," I agreed. The Jashinists strongly opposed that course of action. "I think they're leaving of their own accord."

We were finally able to make out our diplomatic team approaching. They weren't speaking, but Makishi looked angrier than I'd ever seen him.

"I'm going to meet them," I declared.

"Why?" Daigo asked, tiredly.

"I just feel like I should," I said, and he raised a quizzical eyebrow, pointedly looking down at the lizard in my arms. Saburō, who up until this very moment had been so content to remain still, was now slapping his tail against my thigh in a standard ninja code. It wasn't nation specific, and was used for shinobi from differing allegiances to communicate nonverbally at a distance. I was still mildly surprised that Haruto knew it, since he didn't belong to a hidden village and had very limited contact with Hitai-ate bearing ninja, but perhaps I shouldn't be. He probably picked it up from a missing-nin associate.

"Fine," he said. "I'll keep watch here."

For appearances, mostly. It was fairly apparent there wasn't anyone around. The only place to hide in this terrain was underground, and we'd be able to sense their active chara use if they were there.

By the time I reached our group, they were far enough away from the now bustling outpost that Biwa-sensei allowed them to speak.

"I don't understand!" Makishi pleaded. "This isn't right! We should be the ones leaving, not them!"

"And then what?" Biwa-sensei cut him off. "Where will you go? To the next Outpost? That's five days away, if it's even vacant, unlike this one. You don't have us for that long. Who will protect you for the rest of the journey? Haruto, alone? Or will you pay us to extend the duration of the mission? That is an option."

The religious leader didn't seem to like any of his own answers to the questions.

"We don't have that amount of money left in our stipend," he bemoaned. "We can't…I can't…"

Ignoring his crisis, Biwa-sensei's eyes met mine.

"What are you doing here?" he asked softly, annoyance clear in his tone.

"I thought this situation could benefit from the soft touch of a woman," I replied, and I swear his eye twitched. If I told him Haruto asked for me, he wouldn't give me time to explain the context of our conversation that prompted it. He'd just fly off the handle and rip me a new one for letting myself get "led away" by the enemy before starting a fight.

"And who the hell present can give that?" Iwao sniped, and I flipped him the bird. Not appropriate behavior in front of clients, but Makishi was preoccupied.

"You know what happened?" the older man asked me, his voice frail and cracking with emotion.

"Yeah," I said, more delicately than I normally would have. "I think I put it together. Here, walk with me, Makishi-san. You too, Haruto-san."

We were already walking together, but I glared at Iwao and Biwa-sensei until they lagged behind a couple paces. They could still hear us just fine, of course, but it gave the illusion of privacy.

"They weren't receptive of your offer," I prompted gently.

"He was—the patriarch—he wasn't anything like I thought he'd be," Makishi said. "He was furious at me. At us."

"Defensive, I think it would be more appropriate to say," Haruto disagreed.

"What's the difference?"

"The word furious is rooted in anger," I told him. "Defensiveness is rooted in fear. And before you jump to conclusions, we," I gestured to me, Iwao and Biwa-sensei, "might not necessarily be the cause."

I looked over my shoulder.

"Haruto-san, please be honest with us," I asked. "When you organized this meeting, what did you tell the Tengu leader? Did you tell him that Makishi-san has some big, scary guards that he doesn't want to mess with?"

He shook his head. "I told them they had guards from a Hidden Village, though I wouldn't tell them who so as not to introduce bias. I advised the guards to use the Henge, as discussed, and they agreed."

He moved to place a hand on Makishi's shoulder, but seemed to think better of it.

"I agree with Kasaiki-chan," he said, using my first name as I did his. "I think that, even if you came without guards at all, you would have been met with the same response."

I bet the rest of my team was surprised to hear those words. This would have been the perfect opportunity for him to encourage Makishi to drop us.

"Remember when we first arrived?" he continued. "He was displeased from the very beginning. His guards said nothing to him, though it became clear that they recognized Tsuchibokori-san. It was not their place to speak in the proceedings, even though they wished to. It wasn't until you became…more impassioned that the content of the discussion shifted. Before then, the leader asked you to leave. At that point, he threatened violence. Only then did the guards speak up."

I could imagine how that went. Once they wisened the leader up to the fact that, despite their extreme numbers advantage, this was a fight they had no hope of winning, he probably changed his tune very quickly. If he perceived that Makishi was unwilling to leave, he would have no choice but to flee himself. Contrary to what the Jashinists assumed, coexisting was never an option.

"But why?" Makishi pleaded. "Why could we not live in harmony?"

"For the same reason Biwa-sensei hasn't let Haruto-san out of his sight since he first showed up," I told him. "It's a matter of trust. You've heard about this country's situation, just as you've no doubt heard horror stories about missing-nin. But you can't truly understand because you haven't lived here. Ninja are taught terrible skills, dangerous skills, and the only thing that keeps us from using those powers for unrestricted evil is our loyalty to our villages and our own code of ethics."

Which was far more dubious than I would imply out loud, for fear of invalidating my own argument.

"Missing-nin cast off all accountability," I said. "That's what makes them so dangerous. They have the physical capability to take what they want, so they do. And that's ignoring the quality of people who choose to abandon their home villages in the first place. Oftentimes, they are mentally unstable long before they take on the title of missing-nin. Perhaps they are narcissists with delusions of grandeur, or they are quite literally fleeing the consequences of crimes they already committed."

I spread my arms.

"Now, imagine living your life surrounded by such people. Having to constantly walk on eggshells, for fear of having one snap. I'm sure that the Tengu leader has been burned before, trusting the wrong person. The best way for him to keep all of his people safe is by making sure not to let into their spaces those who might do them harm."

Prevention is always much more preferable than a cure.

"Though I would argue that there is some bias in Kasaiki-chan's words, I agree with the spirit of the message," Haruto chimed in. "Trust is the most valuable currency in Sōgen no Kuni. You aren't known to anyone in this country, and getting to that stage is a very slow process. Even with me and my clan vouching for you, it's not a point that you can reach in a month, year, or maybe even decade."

"A deca—we don't have that long!"

They don't?

"Makishi-san. We haven't asked because it hasn't been our place, but if we're to be effective in advising you at this point, we have to know. What is the…end goal of this excursion?" I asked him. "Why did you choose to go on it, and how did you intend to accomplish your goals?"

It was telling that it took him so long to actually articulate the answers to my question. He revealed that they brought fertile soils, gardening equipment and seeds, which were stored in the wagons. There were also nutrient supplements, dried fruits and the like that they would distribute to the nomads. But most pressingly, many of the Jashinists brought along had medical expertise. They planned on opening up a clinic.

"We were only planning on staying here for a year," he revealed. "After which a team of shinobi would be sent to retrieve us."

That just raised more questions, really.

"You arranged for protection to and from Sōgen," I said, carefully. "You recognized the journey was treacherous. But, objectively, the destination is far more…inhospitable. I'm trying to understand, here. How did you plan on…"

Surviving. I didn't have a more palatable word to use, so I just left it at the implication.

"We thought that, if we offered free care for all, no one would attack us," he whispered.

I sighed wearily, expecting a stupid ass answer like that.

"Haruto-san?" I asked our guide, because I wasn't a native, here. Perhaps my pessimism wasn't warranted. "What do you think of that assessment?"

Haruto's expression was a mask.

"I think, Makishi-san," he began, delicately. "That, unless you had someone to protect you, you would be attacked for your resources regardless. Some may see the wisdom of keeping you around, but many others would only see—and wish to take—the physical commodities you currently possess."

Truly, it brought me no pleasure to see Makishi confronted with the realization that he had thoughtlessly brought a group of people that he treasured into an incredibly dangerous situation without a proper understanding of anything that awaited them. I saw where this road led. Feelings of inadequacy often lead to outside blame, and I could see the beginnings of that on his face.

"This nation is very different from any you've seen, isn't it, Makishi-san?" I murmured, looking over the expanse of plains surrounding us. "The people here live a very different life than what you're used to. It seems barbaric, doesn't it?"

I could see Haruto begin to interject, an offended frown on his face. I continued before he could fully open his mouth.

"It's not."

Makishi shot me an incredulous look, and so did Haruto, to a lesser extent.

"As a ninja, I am more in touch with the baser natures of humanity," I told him. "I can tell you with certainty that everything you see and object to in this land is not just present, but abundant in the nations to the east. Even the great five. You just don't see it, because you don't have to see it. We all work hard to keep it out of the civilians' sight—that's what you call times of peace. The truth is, what's happening here is the same thing that's happening everywhere else in the world. It's just that, here, they don't feel the need to hide it. In a way, I kinda respect the people here all the more for it. I think, sometimes, it's better to look things in the eye than stay in willful ignorance."

I'd rather be oppressed by something I can see and fight, rather than something like a hostile government or a corporation.

Makishi sniffled.

"When you put it like that, it would be unreasonable to condemn them too harshly."

I nodded, surprised and actually a little proud he came to that conclusion so readily.

"When they have a background and experience struggles so different from your own, it is a little unreasonable to hold a different group of people to your standards," I agreed. "Sometimes, if you want to create positive change, you have to meet people where they are, rather than force them to conform to your expectations."

I did my best to channel a childhood friend from my last life. We'd taken very different paths, and she could ultimately never look past my choice to become a career soldier, so we drifted apart completely soon after college. I didn't get her problem with my life choices at the time, and frequently got annoyed when she threw the words "military industrial complex" my way. I began to understand where she was coming from later in my life.

But that was besides the point. She was a social worker, and back when we were on speaking terms, she'd talk about her challenges working with those in poverty, struggling with addiction. She told me how difficult it was to understand the people she worked with as a middle class white woman with a higher education at first, but she managed it eventually. There were quite a few pearls of wisdom hidden amongst those conversations.

Since I drowned in Fugatoro, unlocking all the memories from my last life, I've begun to think more about the people and events that I'd repressed. It was weird to dive into those memories because my mind in this life was so different than it was back then. Chakra hadn't just made me smarter: it had fundamentally changed how I saw and interacted with the world. It was interesting to interpret some things I'd experienced on Earth through a new lens.

"I see. Yes, I think I understand," Makishi sighed. "I've really made a terrible mistake. I don't know how I can face the others."

"Alas, such is the burden of leadership," I commiserated. "That's why I let Iwao deal with that mess."

I reached up to pat him on the shoulder. "From what they've told me, they all volunteered to go on this trip. You didn't force them to accompany you. Yes, you might be in charge, but they didn't know any better than you did. Admit your failings, and decide as a group your next steps. That's all you can do at this point. But procrastinating won't help anyone."

It might not have been intentional, but he had slowed our pace to a crawl. He picked it back up.

"You're right of course," he sighed. "Very well."

When we returned to our temporary camp, Makishi summoned his fellows and led them to form another kumbaya circle, and I left team leader Iwao the uncomfy task of listening in and advising. He was still invested in his little pet project, and though now was an organic time to manipulate them into hiring us as an escort back to Iwa, I wasn't sure he'd try anything with Biwa-sensei present.

I felt a presence behind me, and knew it to be Haruto.

"Ah, right," I realized. "You didn't lead us into an ambush or anything, so I guess you can have the little guy back."

"Thanks," he said dryly, accepting the lizard I offered to him. I had discretely slipped off the explosive harness I'd made. "You know, that was…nice, what you did."

I arched an eyebrow. "What, comforting Makishi? He's my client."

"Well, I'd say that went beyond the expectations of a client/guard relationship, but that's not what I was referring to. Foreigners rarely have anything positive to say about my country."

I'd be lying if I said I couldn't understand why.

"It's not better or worse. Just different. There are certainly unique challenges, but if there wasn't enough good to balance it out, there wouldn't be nomad clans. They'd have left already."

It's not like they had attachments to any specific location. That's what made them nomads, by definition.

Haruto chuckled.

"You're quite right. It may be a little rough around the edges, but Sōgen no Kuni is my home. I've found quite a lot to appreciate about it. It has so much potential. And one day, I'll see my dream to bring out that potential to fruition."

"A dream, eh?" I mused. "What would that be? King of the pirates?"

"Wha—no! Why would I want to become a pirate? Besides, Sōgen no Kuni is landlocked!"

"I know, I know," I chuckled. "Inside joke. What is it, though?"

"Forget it," he said with a pout. "I just want security for the nomads and accountability for the missing-nin."

How vague.

"In what way?" I asked. "How are you going to accomplish that?"

"I'm not telling you. You're mean."

He walked away without another word, and I chuckled.

And I thought I was supposed to be the pre-teen here.

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

It was decided, eventually, that we'd move into the outpost, just as we'd been planning to do initially. The nomads had already long since left, so it would have been silly to stay away purely out of guilt.

Though that wasn't to say the Jashinists had adopted the out of sight, out of mind mentality. A heavy somberness seemed to pervade the camp, and I could practically taste the drop in morale. There was no celebration, no chatter. No singing, and though there was still a lot of praying, the whole vibe was off.

I should have been relieved—the in-your-face-ness of it all usually made me feel uncomfortable. Knowing the context, however, I couldn't help but feel a little bad.

Speaking of, I had grown afraid that I had truly offended Haruto, since he seemed to be avoiding me. It wasn't my intention, so I sought him out to rectify the misunderstanding.

It took a moment, because he wasn't in the outpost or even just outside. In fact, I couldn't seem to find him anywhere. I thought about going to Biwa-sensei, but I didn't want him to start a manhunt just because I lost sight of Haruto. He was looking for any reason to get rid of our guide, and I didn't need to add any more logs to that particular fire.

Then, I felt something in the distance, so light that, if I was a couple yards closer to the outpost, I wouldn't have noticed it at all. Following my gut, I used Ninpo: Tōton no Jutsu (Ninja art: Transparent Escape Technique), which in this lighting rendered me all but invisible. Then, I snuck towards where I felt the chakra usage.

By starlight, I was able to see Haruto underneath the "canopy" of one of those saxual trees he was so fond of. And he wasn't alone. He was speaking with a shadowy figure who bore the same insignia as the Tengu group that had departed this outpost several hours ago.

Then, with a few hand seals, the figure vanished into a Shunshin, and my heart began beating harder.

That was one of the missing-nin. Damn it.

Haruto was motionless for a few seconds. Then, he blitzed into movement, twirling and throwing a kunai straight at me, disregarding my Tōton entirely!

It shot towards my throat, and bore down on me so quickly that I had no time to dodge or draw a weapon of my own. I had no choice but to swat it on the flat with my palm—a risky move. I channeled an excess of chakra through my bandages, purposefully overloading chakra sticking to repel the blade, but even that wasn't enough to fully defend against it. If not for the wires reinforcing the bandages wrapped around my hands, I would have taken a clean, deep cut in my attempts to divert Haruto's throw. Even still, I could feel the sting on my palm as blood pooled under the bandages, staining the white ones to match the others.

"Kasaiki-chan?" Haruto asked in shock, seeming to just recognize me as the damage popped the chakra bubble forming my Tōton. "Oh, jeeze, did I get you? I'm so sorry!"

Superior active chakra senses, fine enough to pinpoint my location blindly just from the meager cost of my basic jutsu at this distance, I cataloged, the pain in my hand bringing razor focus. And a kunai thrown fast and hard enough to nearly break through my guard. Genin weren't capable of that, and at this point, I should think most chunin weren't either.

Clearly, Haruto was far more capable than he let on.

"Yeah, I'm sorry too," I said, beginning to circle the tree. "I was just starting to like you."

Then, I shot towards the Yatsureta clansman like a rocket.

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

AN: Hey y'all. Sorry this took so long. That's partly due to stuff going on in my life, and partly the content of the chapter itself. I just wasn't really in the headspace to write about social commentary, so whenever I actually got the opportunity to sit down and work, my word counts for each session were far less than I can usually put out.

Well, we're fighting Haruto now. It was inevitable, under these circumstances. What can a mysterious ninja from the middle of nowhere do? Tune in to the next update to find out.

The Steppes arc is about to really kick off. Lot more action from here on out. Lotta people in the comments are going to be proven wrong about something in particular, and some particular recent events and worldbuilding drops that seemed unimportant will suddenly become quite relevant.

You should totally check out my other fic on archive. Across the Totem-Verse, (username Poncho_o). It's a Spider-Man, Across the Spider-Verse fic, and it's really good.

I don't have a Ptrn. If you've gotten just five bucks of enjoyment out of this story, please consider buying my original work on amazon (information in my bio). Between the two sites this fic is posted on, I have over 3000 readers. If even half of you choose to support me in this fashion, I would have considerable bargaining power when it comes to getting future books published. More publishing deals means I can quit my day job, which translates into more time for fanfiction. It's a one time thing, and you even get more of my writing out of it.

Have a good one!