Arms like manacles wrapped around Kakashi's wrist, and his eyes popped open. Without thinking, he twisted, reaching for the kunai under his pillow. The assailant sunk a blow into his stomach. Kakashi rolled, taking himself and the intruder crashing to the floor.
He turned again to get the upper hand, but his opponent was faster. A body settled on top of him, hand stretching towards his throat. Kakashi choked as spots danced in his vision. He swiped at the wrist with his kunai, and the intruder made a barely audible hiss as the blade sunk into a sliver of tanned skin. With an irritated grunt, Kakashi tore through his blankets to free himself.
A katana sliced through the air. Kakashi barely blocked it with his kunai. Strong, he thought. But a katana wouldn't work without distance. He pushed in closer, switching his kunai to his left. The intruder stepped backward, trying to create more space, but Kakashi pressed even closer, feigning a punch with his right as he swiped his thumb across the blade. He held his hand in a seal, and in a puff of smoke, Bull and Bisuke had the intruder pinned down, with Pakkun dangerously close to ripping out his throat.
Silence.
The intruder had gone very still. "Test one, complete," their voice rumbled. In a puff of smoke, his intruder was gone. Kakashi's breaths had barely returned to normal. With a quick sign, he dispelled his summons. He looked over his bedroom—the ripped sheets rested in jagged pieces, cotton dangling off the bed. His bed frame cracked in the struggle, and pieces of the wood lay on the floor. Temporarily, it didn't matter—it wasn't like Kakashi would be sleeping again after that.
He pushed up his windowsill, and walked down the brick wall of his apartment complex. Test one. The shinobi wore all black and had no clear village markings. His accent sounded Konohan, a bit of a Sunese lilt, maybe. But accents could be faked. Had an enemy infiltrated the village? But what test could they possibly mean?
The building was dark, quiet. He couldn't see another masked shinobi, or other signs of break-ins. Outside, a blue thrush warbled on a branch, rising into a darkened sky. With the slightest hesitation, Kakashi took to the rooftops.
--
The Namikaze-Uzumaki house stood between the Nara clan forest and the Aburame quarters, a shock of white against the dark woods. Technically, it was the Uzumaki quarters, a gift from the village in remembrance of Kushina's lost clan. Kushina took that gift to heart, painting the house the same white and blue she always described in her stories of Uzushio. If any clan members come, Kushina would say, they'll know exactly where to find me, 'ttebane!
Kakashi was surprised that Minato-sensei didn't take the Hokage mansion—the Sandaime had already moved to the Sarutobi Compound. But when he asked, Minato-sensei shook his head with a small grin, ruffling Kakashi's hair. I don't need a mansion, I just need enough space for me, you, and Kushina.
He hadn't seen much of Sensei recently—being Hokage meant long hours, hours that might have been spent at the training ground, or on missions. Sensei was the face of the rebuilding effort for the village, and couldn't spend time on training ground 12 with Kakashi. Surprisingly, Gai filled that role in the days that passed.
Unlike the past times Kakashi visited the house, he could smell others—ANBU. He couldn't see them, but he felt the prickle at the back of his neck. They were watching, but didn't stop him. Perching on the west-most windowsill, he knocked once, paused, four times, paused, then three times.
Within fifteen seconds, Sensei pushed the window open. His blue eyes were wide, and a bit wild. "An intruder?" he asked. Unceremoniously, he pulled Kakashi inside the bedroom, where Kushina was just waking, rubbing her eyes. Sensei rested both hands on Kakashi's shoulders, twisting him this way and that. "Are you alright? Were you hurt?"
"No."
Despite the negative, Sensei kept scanning him, taking in Kakashi's rumpled appearance. Sensei squinted, before leaning out the window, hands moving in rapid signs. Shadows danced across the windowsill as the ANBU moved. He seemed to be satisfied, before pushing Kakashi out the door, down the hall. As Sensei pushed him into a chair, light flooded the room.
Kushina yawned by the light switch. "Everything okay, Kashi?" Not even Kushina's inane nickname mattered. He shrugged, picking at a seashell pillow.
"Tell me what happened." Sensei only used that tone as Hokage. Kakashi straightened and began his report, describing the intruder, their appearance, and the fight. But as Kakashi described the intruder's exit, he could see Sensei relax, sagging into the nearby couch.
"Thank you for coming to us Kakashi. I've sent ANBU to your apartment, but I think I understand what's happening." Kushina flopped onto the couch, looking halfway towards falling asleep once more.
"What?"
Minato-sensei shook his head, exchanging a look with Kushina. "I can't tell you."
Sensei told him everything. Why couldn't he say it now? "Why?" he asked.
"It's not my place," he said with an apologetic shrug. "But Kakashi, you will understand soon enough, I promise. If you don't want to go back to your apartment before ANBU declares the space safe, you're always welcome to stay here. But I can assure you, ANBU would be aware if an enemy village infiltrated Konoha. It will all make sense in time."
Unusually cryptic, even for Sensei. But how could he be so sur—
The pieces snapped together, and suddenly, Kakashi did understand. Tsutsuji's words from lunch echoed in his head. You'll know when they want you.
ANBU had come for him.
Sensei chuckled. "Knowing you, Kakashi, you might already have an idea. I will not confirm or deny anything." He stood, and Kushina's head nearly smacked into the couch from where she'd been resting on Sensei's shoulder. Sensei laughed nervously as Kushina's hair rose in warning. "I'll have to be up soon to head to the office. Would you like to stay here, or return to your apartment? Kushina, are you going back to bed?"
Kushina groaned. "I have to get ready for a mission with Mikoto in an hour, it's not worth it." She rubbed her eyes again, and smiled tiredly at Kakashi as she stood. Kakashi suddenly felt bad for going through the trouble of waking them. "How about we sit down for a quick breakfast before I go?"
He knew he should refuse. It's what he promised himself, in the wake of Rin, in the wake of Obito. Kakashi couldn't keep his friends alive. Staying away made the most sense. If there wasn't an intruder, Kakashi wouldn't have stopped by at all. But looking into Kushina's bright eyes, and Sensei's small grin, he knew, deeply, selfishly, that he was too weak to say no.
Swallowing once, he nodded.
"You train like the war never ended, you know."
Rin paused from her katas, standing on the lake. Kyusuke snuck up on her without knowing. From the shore, she watched him push his hair out of his sweaty face. She padded over the water until she reached him.
When Kyusuke went out for his daily run, Rin decided to follow. No one would bat an eye if she went along with him. Though her chakra control improved by the day, her taijutsu and ninjutsu still needed work—she still couldn't get water-sensing down with Mikazuki. She could grow coneflowers and dandelions, but nothing like the vines Hashirama started to show her.
"It's important to be prepared," she replied. Rin had no choice—she had a little over a month until Obito's attack, and she hadn't seen the Ame trio in the village after that first sighting of Konan. She tried to ask those she healed, but they didn't have a clue who she was talking about. With each day that slipped away, she lost her chance at gaining their trust. "There are still skirmishes at the border."
Though the war had ended, remaining fights still found Ame. Kusa bandits were known to steal from everyone, including refugees. Some Ame shinobi scouted the border, fighting off bandits and remaining squabbles the end of war hadn't puttered out.
"Yeah, but you're always healing, or training!" Kyusuke threw his hands up. "Don't you want to relax?" She shrugged, sitting in the sand. Kyusuke followed, looking out over the pallid lake.
In the past few days, Rin realized Kyusuke could never be still. If he wasn't walking, his foot was twitching, like he was ready to run at a moment's notice. His body shook with it. In the sand, his fingers traced nonsensical shapes. Even in his sleep, his body was constantly in motion, turning and nearly smacking Daibutsu in the eye. Rin wondered if he ever grew tired.
She searched for a response and found one that bordered on the truth. "My mother…she would go on a lot of missions. She was barely home. It taught me to stay busy, I guess."
"Your mother was a shinobi?" Kyusuke still wasn't looking at her, instead watching how the lake rippled with the rain. It made it easier to speak about her mother, she supposed.
It felt like few people could understand her mother's missions. Kurenai's mother was a merchant, frequently out of the village trading. They bonded over their mothers being away constantly in the Academy. Kurenai would chat about the gossip her mother carried across the five nations, the important figures she saw in her travels.
Rin didn't know how to discuss her mother. There were some in the forces that looked down on the Petal Squadron. Others still grew wary of the way her mother and her friends barely showed emotion. The Squadron had learned to control every movement, every muscle, to project the image their clients needed to see. No matter where they started out in life, how exuberant or bright they were, the members of the Squadron somehow always ended up with the same graceful movements, and the same quiet stare. She started calling her Auntie Toshiko 'auntie' not because of any relation, but because the woman bore the same expression her mother always wore, one that strengthened with every mission.
(Rin's mother used to smile, once.)
Her mother never discussed her missions, and Rin didn't ask. But Rin remembered buying her mother the nicest soaps and shampoos she could find in the civilian market with the money she earned from her first D-rank missions. Lavender and bergamot orange soap, imported from Kumo. Ylang-ylang and chamomile shampoo, shipped from Taki. In her naive mind, she thought it would help her mother relax—she only bought the ones the merchants claimed were for stress relief. When Rin saw her mother pack the soaps and shampoo away for a three-month mission in the Land of Iron, she vowed never to buy them again.
Rin didn't bother changing his tense. She nodded.
"And your dad?"
She shook her head, closing her eyes. The familiar stab of pain never went away, but it grew easier to push aside with practice, in the years gone by.
Kyusuke bobbed his head in the corners of her vision. "I don't know if you know this, but Tani is led by a trio of elders. My grandfather was one of them. He raised my brother and I when my father left the village. Ma died while having me." She looked at him in the peeks of his vision. His long, pale fingers continued tracing lines in the sand.
"I'm sorry." They were empty words and she knew it.
Kyusuke shrugged. "Don't be. It was a long time ago."
"It doesn't make it any easier."
He exhaled, fingers pausing in the sand. "Yeah, I guess it doesn't." They didn't speak, instead watching the rain pound the lake. A gray pelican swooped over the water, its beak the faintest threat of orange. Moments later, a fish flopped in its grasp. Even the birds in Ame looked washed out, like the rain had stolen their colors.
Suddenly, Kyusuke jumped up, sending sand flying. "C'mon, let's go into the village. I wanna show you something."
Rin craned her head up. "Show me what?"
He rolled his eyes, and held out a hand. "I'm not ruining the surprise."
"I have to report to the refugee center soon to work."
"C'mon Nori," Kyusuke grinned, wiggling his fingers. "It's an Ame tradition. I promise you'll get to the center on time."
Once again, she felt a sense of dull familiarity, one that faded as soon as she recognized it. Slowly, she grasped his hand. It was warm, still crusted with sand. He jerked into a run, and Rin grasped his hand tighter, running quicker to match his pace. He was fast, faster than Kakashi, even in the sand. "Race you to the gate!" he cried. Grinning, Rin pushed herself faster.Rather than turning down the route towards Rin's new home, Kyusuke turned left at the refugee center, towards smaller, less industrial homes. These houses looked sturdier than the one they lived in, raised on reddened stilts, allowing rain to roll off the roof and splatter to the ground below. Children shrieked from below the houses as rain splashed across their faces. The paved road of the main streets gave way to lumpy cobblestone.
"This is the historical center," Kyusuke explained. "The rest of Ame was built around this place. The first settlers in the area raised their homes on stilts. Some say it was to be as close to the Rain gods as possible. I think they wanted to get away from bugs."
They continued walking past the raised houses. One house door opened, and children spilled down the stairs, giggling. Most looked no older than seven, but Rin could see their injuries—one boy's arm held at an awkward angle, a girl who winced as she walked down the stairs. Kyusuke followed her glance.
"Some children receive Academy schooling here. Since most people here come from elsewhere, they learn a mix of histories and jutsu from around the five nations. None of the five nations have as wide and mixed a population as Ame does." Rin was surprised at the amount of pride in Kyusuke's tone. "We all have different skills, so we all try to help each other the best we can."
Rin could feel her right hand twitch. "They're hurt."
"The hospitals are only taking critical cases right now," Kyusuke said with a frown. "Most people have gotten used to the pains they have."
She watched as one girl struggled to lace her sandals, fingers at a crooked angle. A boy next to her knelt in a puddle to help her.
It was no way to live. They deserved to live carefree, not in the shadow of war. Was lying the right choice, if the hospital clearly needed help? How could she keep her abilities to herself when so many people in the village were suffering? She hadn't noticed she'd stopped in the street, staring at the boy and girl, now running to catch up with their group. Guilt sunk deep in her stomach.
Rin, you're trying the best you can, Ashura said quietly.
She had to do better. Even if this wasn't her village—she had to do better. It was the least she could do, after lying to everyone. If the majority of the village had to live with their pain, she needed to do better.
"C'mon," Kyusuke said, and they turned down another street. "We're almost there." They had reached an open field, grasses matted by rain. Large stones outlined a circle in the grass. A small house stood in the middle.
"This is the home of the last diviner in the village," Kyusuke said. "She's been in Ame longer than anyone I know. Some people think she can tell the future."
"Do you?"
He shifted. "Never believed in it all. But…sometimes she knows more than she should."
They walked up to the dark wooden door. Before Kyusuke could knock, the door swung open. An older woman stood in front of them, peering up at them under a curtain of gray bangs. Her hair trailed to her back in gray wisps, and she knocked a white cane into Kyusuke's knee.
"You're late, Kyusuke." Her voice was unexpectedly deep. Kyusuke threw a hand up.
"How did you even know we were coming?!"
She looked unamused. "The rain tells me everything I need to know. What are you standing there for? Come in, your girlfriend must be cold." Rin's cheeks reddened. In her mind, Ashura, the traitor, laughed loud and hard.
Kyusuke sputtered, cat-like pupils dilating. "She's not! We're not—"
The woman cut him off with one sharp eyebrow rising into her hair. She looked down pointedly, in the middle of Rin and Kyusuke. Rin followed her eyes. Their hands were still joined. Stuttering, Kyusuke jumped away, rubbing the back of his neck. Had they been holding hands throughout the village? How had she not noticed? Without another word, the diviner walked back into her home. Kyusuke coughed once and followed. Rin shut the door behind her.
Inside, lamps lit a gallery of photos on the wall—a man in a breather mask outside a building, children clustered around a younger version of the diviner, a man and woman kissing in the rain. The smell of ginger rose in the air. In the sitting room, Rin could see the diviner had set out three cups of tea. Stacks of towels towered almost as high as the nearby bookshelves.
Kyusuke and Rin sat as far apart as they could. Across from them, the diviner snorted. "I suppose Kyusuke hasn't told you my name, child. I am Shion." Shion took a sip of tea. "I come from a long line of Ame's rain diviners."
Rin raised the cup to her lips. Surprisingly, the tea was sweetened almost exactly the way she liked it. Obito, being raised with Grandma Masae's strict standards, always complained that Rin took her honey with tea, rather than her tea with honey. Her eyes blew wide, and across the table, Shion chuckled.
"What has Kyusuke told you about me?"
"He said this was a surprise," Rin answered. "A tradition."
"I suppose divination is a tradition for newcomers in the village. Many come to my door after losing everything, seeking guidance for their future." Shion's blue eyes pierced through Rin, pinning her in place. "Tell me, child, what have you lost?"
Rin shifted. In truth, she'd gained far more than she lost. This second chance to change everything, the chance to do it right this time. She had her life back. She had Ashura and Isobu. She gained wood release and new jutsu.
But in a way…she lost her team. She lost Obito the Eye of the Moon plan. She lost Kakashi, due to her actions, and her failures. She lost the chance to see Sensei and Kushina's marriage, lost the chance to see her Kurenai and her Academy friends. She lost the chance to see her mother. She lost her chance at a peaceful afterlife. Rin swallowed and set her tea down, saying nothing.
"I see." Shion's voice sounded softer. "Do you know how my divination works?"
Divination practices varied by region—Kurenai and Rin studied the methods in kunoichi classes. In Iwa, rocks and crystals were split for guidance. Kumo diviners tracked weather patterns and the stars. Suna used animal sacrifices. Kiri, unsurprisingly, used bloodletting. Konohan diviners used tea leaves.
Rin shook her head.
"My ancestors settled into Ame centuries ago when the area served as a battlefield for the Warring Clans. The rain has nourished our bloodline through war and bloodshed. Somewhere in our lineage, the Rain gods saw fit to bless our sight." Shion walked over to a nearby bookshelf, cane tapping quietly on the floor. She pulled out a leather-bound book, worn smooth with age. "Through the gods' gift, I receive guidance from watching how the rain holds the villagers."
Shion opened the book, and turned to the middle. On a yellowed page, she smoothed a depiction of a man and woman in the middle of a storm. Both their eyes were closed, rain-drenched faces turned towards the open sky. In the heavens, winged creatures wept golden tears.
"Holds?" Rin asked.
"Too many villagers use that paltry rain technique to keep themselves dry, to separate themselves from the gods that have shielded us. By letting the rain touch your skin, hold you in its grasp, I receive my guidance. That's why every villager sits for tea before our sessions. I don't want to be responsible for anyone's illness."
Shion stood. "Think of your future as you finish your tea. What would you like to know about your fate? When you have your question, meet me in the field." Without another word, the woman left the room, shutting the front door with a quiet click. In the sitting room, Rin and Kyusuke sipped at their tea, saying nothing.
"I, uh—sorry, I should've let go of your hand earlier." Kyusuke still hadn't met her eye.
Rin rolled her eyes. "Haven't you held hands with your friends before?"
"Didn't have a ton of friends, before. Can you imagine me holding hands with Daibutsu?"
She thought of the surly boy walking down the street, hand in hand with Kie and Kyusuke, and snorted, nearly getting tea up her nose. Kyusuke turned to look at her with that familiar-unfamiliar grin. His clan marks curved in blue arcs as he laughed. They settled into a comfortable silence.
"Do you know what you're going to ask?" he asked finally.
"Can't I just ask what my future is going to be?" It would be nice to know that all of this was worth it.
He shook his head immediately. "It has to be specific, Nori. Something only you could ask. Trust me, she gets mad if you don't."
What did Rin want to know if not what the future would hold for her?
"What did you ask her?"
Surprisingly, Kyusuke's face darkened to a deep red. He coughed. "It's…uh, a little embarrassing." Rin watched in fascination as his dark cheeks clashed with his clan markings. It was funny—cute, even.
Any ideas, Ashura?
This is all you, Rin, Ashura replied. I'm sure there's a list of questions you'd like to know.
Rin sighed and drained her cup. It was best not to keep Shion waiting. But as she walked to the door, Kyusuke didn't follow. She turned. "Aren't you coming?"
"Nope," he said, popping the 'p.' "Trust me, you wouldn't want me there. I'll be here when you're done."
Better get this over with. Slowly, she walked out the door.
Outside, the rain had strengthened, and Rin could feel the muted droplets on her skin as she walked into the field. Shion stood, eyes facing heavenward, in the center of the stones. Her gray hair was matted by rain, the black cloak around her shoulders sodden as she swayed. She didn't seem to notice Rin walking in front of her. Suddenly, a wizened hand shot out, anchoring Rin in place.
"Right there," the woman ordered. "Drop your chakra shield, so the rain can bless you." Rin stopped her buzzing chakra. Rain began to seep through her clothes. In minutes, her shirt was plastered to her back. Water soaked in between her toes. "Tilt your face to the sky, so the rain gods can see you."
Rin blinked her eyes shut and craned her head towards the sky. Rain slid down her face, into her hair, down her neck. She could feel its drumbeat on her collarbones. The medic in her whispered she could catch cold if she stood out there too long, tea or not.
Seconds or minutes later, Shion asked, "What will you ask the gods?"
"…Can I keep my friends safe?"
"Deeper, Rin."
Her eyes shot open, heart fluttering. "Wha—"
"The rain tells me everything I need to know," Shion interrupted. Maybe it was Rin's watery vision, but Shion's eyes looked almost transparent, the color of a clear puddle. She could almost see herself reflected in Shion's pupils. "You need to go deeper. What do you truly want to know? What questions do you have surrounding your fate? What truths frighten you?"
It felt unfair. If she couldn't ask a question about her future, even if it was to help her friends, then what could she ask? The rain beat a mocking rhythm on her forehead. Kakashi wouldn't need guidance, he'd already have the answers, or be halfway toward them. Obito would know what to ask. In fact, he'd probably have too many questions—Shion would have to tell him to choose just one. Her throat closed, and suddenly, she had her question, bubbling in the back of her throat.
"Will I save my best friend from himself?"
Shion hummed. "His name."
She hesitated. It's not as if anyone in Ame ever knew Obito's true identity, but Shion knowing her true name made Rin's skin crawl. She hadn't even given Shion her new name. "Tobi."
For a moment, Rin was sure Shion would call her out on her line. Then, she nodded, eyes crystalline and piercing. "Close your eyes."
Rin's eyes fell shut. The rain had soaked through her clothes completely, and she fought the urge to shiver. Despite being in the rain longer than Rin, Shion seemed completely at ease.
"Focus on your question." A thumb landed on Rin's forehead, craning her head back. "Great gods of the storm, hear our pleas." Rain filled the cold silence. Shion began humming, pressing her thumb into Rin's forehead in odd intervals. Kurenai would love this, but Rin wasn't amused. Finally, Shion let out a low whistle.
"The gods have already interceded for you. Your journey is on a heightened path." Fingertips cradled Rin's face, parallel to the rainfall. A droplet hit Rin's nose, tickling as it ran down her face. The woman hissed. "Your path has descended from pain to suffering, child." Rin kept her breathing even, though she wanted to scream.
"Lined by blood and chakra, suffering and loss. You have grown accustomed to hardship. Few could traverse the world with your circumstances. Fewer still could remain alive." Rin swallowed. The fingertips traced a line to her forehead. "Interesting."
"What?" Rin breathed.
"Talented, but sheltered. Strong, but fearful. You are unused to walking alone. Left unchecked, you succumb to worry. You are not being punished. This divergence will show you how to step into your power."
Rin never had to walk alone before. For the past eight years, had she looked to her left, Obito was usually walking beside her. If not Obi, Kurenai, or Kakashi haunting her steps after Kannabi. Even now, she carried Ashura and Isobu in her mind and soul. Did she truly have to walk alone? Rain slid down her parted lips.
"Your words will inspire. Your abilities will amaze." Shion hummed. "Child, you will hold the world in your hands."
She didn't like the sound of that. If Rin allowed herself to think too long about what she had to do, the path in front of her, she could feel the fear lock up her insides. There was no room for error—if they couldn't seal Zetsu and stop Obito, the world would fall to ruin, to Kaguya. And this time, it would be no one but Rin's fault.
Shion tilted her face to the left, and rain spilled down her cheek. "You need to believe in your abilities. Your heart struggles, but it is true."
"What about my friend?"
Nails dug into Rin's face and she gasped. Shion tsked. "Don't rush the gods, child."
Rin could feel each droplet sliding down her face. Her head was tilted to the right. Shion began humming once more, a lilting lullaby that reminded Rin of one of her father's favorite songs. "Fascinating—Tobi's life runs parallel to yours. Though divided, you remain each other's constant. He is your guiding star, as you are his."
It felt like a vice grip had tightened around her throat. Rin swallowed painfully. She missed Obito—his laugh, his stories, his recklessness, his pride. Technically, only six months had passed since she had last seen him, but in her mind, it had been decades. Decades since she saw the essence of him, not what grief had twisted him into.
"You are the light to his darkness. He provides refuge from your fear. Your lives provide eternal balance to one another. Your paths, however, are starting to split."
"Split?" Rin asked.
"It is as the gods have willed it, Rin."
"But I can still save him, can't I?" her voice broke.
Shion's hands gently turned Rin's head. "Your friend must confront his darkness, his shadows. You will either come together stronger than before or remain divided for eternity. Only time will tell." Helpless rage shook her bones. Suddenly, she hated this woman, her enigmatic pauses, and the way each word seemed to burrow into Rin's skull. A tear bubbled underneath Rin's eyelid. She reached a hand up to her face, but Shion batted it away.
"Do not disturb the ceremony. Great gods of the storm, what guidance will you offer?" Shion continued humming. Rin had grown numb to the cold.
I haven't seen a diviner like this in centuries, Ashura said quietly.
Are they always this cryptic?
Weak humor leaked into his tone. Considering I was one, once upon a time, yes.
"Love," Shion whispered finally, as blunt nails dug into Rin's face. "You will face loss, greater than you can imagine. But love, love will guide you through." The hands disappeared from her face like they had never been there in the first place. "You can open your eyes, Rin."
Shion's eyes were back to a regular blue. "I will leave you now. When you are ready to come back inside, the door will be open." Shion turned, and soon Rin was alone in the field.
Rin didn't know what she expected. It would have been nice to have a clear answer, to know she was on the right track. To know none of this would be in vain. Obito hadn't confronted his grief—it had consumed him. History couldn't repeat itself. This was supposed to be her second chance.
Diviners receive guidance, images. They don't have all the answers, Rin. Ashura said. Your fate is still in your hands.
By the time Rin reached the door, Kyusuke and Shion were deep in discussion. Kyusuke leaned into Shion's words.
"—what I told you, Akiyama."
"But what if they're wrong?" There was a strain to Kyusuke's voice.
"The gods are never wrong."
Kyusuke brightened when he saw her. "Nori! How'd it go?"
Rin said nothing as Shion handed her a towel, mopping up the remaining water on her clothes. She avoided the woman's knowing eyes. Rin used a wind jutsu to dry herself off in the field, but the rain was ever-present. In the silence, Kyusuke's grin wavered.
"Well, I need to get ready for my next session," Shion said. "Do either of you have any questions?"
Kyusuke and Rin shook their heads. On the way out, Shion grabbed her arm.
"Remember, Nori, love will guide you through."
The trip through the historical district was quiet. Kyusuke kept glancing at her from the corner of his eyes. Rin let her chakra buzz on her skin, thankful that no one else could see the truth of her life through the rain.
"Sorry," Kyusuke said suddenly, as they stood in front of the refugee center. "I know the sessions are a lot, maybe we shouldn't have—"
She shook her head before he could finish. What Shion said wasn't his fault. "It's an Ame tradition, right? I'm glad I got to take part." Her lips quirked in a small smile. "As long as I don't have to go back anytime soon."
Kyusuke laughed. "Just the once. I'll see you at home, yeah?"
Rin watched her new friend jog away, nearly toppling over a plant at the shop by the corner. As the shopkeeper lectured him, that deja vu slipped back into her mind. He reminded her of someone—his mannerisms, his voice, but she couldn't place it. Maybe Gai?
Rin pushed it away as she stepped into the refugee center, closing the door behind her.
