Archive of Our Own ^beta

“What did you think?” Asked a familiar voice.

“Of the book?” A young woman answered with her own question even though she knew what he meant by context. Sitting with her legs dangling over the edge of a wooden porch, she closed the book in question and rested it in her lap.

He always surprised her with his visits. They were never the same time or place and almost never scheduled beforehand. Yet, she had become accustomed to the irregularity.

Fireflies gently drifted in the warm breeze of a midsummer night. Their soft luminescence mesmerizingly blinked and twinkled over dry, verdant grass beyond the reach of the dim, yellow porch light. Crickets chirped and frogs croaked in a union loud enough to be heard from the woods encircling the yard. There was nothing quite like the rare opportunity to enjoy the sensation of just existing in the atmosphere.

“Asaya,” he gently reminded her of their conversation.

“Yeah, yeah, Itachi, I know.” She replied, exhaling slowly.

Itachi couldn’t quite tell if her body language meant she was soothed or upset. Perhaps a little of both? “And?”

“I liked it. But a better question- what are you really here for?”

So she was at least a little disappointed. He tossed two sealed scrolls on the floor beside her. “You have been asked to open these.”

She drew her legs under her as she turned to look at him. The two cylindrical, green and red objects lay before her. Reaching out an inquisitive hand, she took hold of the two items bestowed upon her. They were scrolls from Kirigakure, but their contents and significance were unknown. “No, I have been told.”

Itachi did not wish to pursue a line of conversation which would spiral down negatively, although he could not fault her for her feelings on the matter. He simply reverted to his opening topic. “When did you finish it?”

“I haven’t, actually.” She held the book up for him to see, her index finger inserted between two pages to indicate how far she had actually read. It was about three quarters of the way through. “I’ll be done soon though, promise.” Gathering the objects, she stood up and signaled with a nod for him to follow. “So where is the fish-man?”

She was referring to Kisame, of course. They didn’t much care for each other. “Probably sleeping on your living room couch.”

“Does he have to do that?! Every time you two are over all he does is eat my food and bum out on the couch.” Entering the kitchen, she immediately went to the cupboard adjacent to the fridge and opened it to reveal a not unimpressive stash of tea. She pointed to them. “What kind?”

Itachi sighed. “Black.”

“Cream and sugar?” She asked knowingly.

“However you made it last time is good.”

Asaya smirked to herself. Men. Itachi was the kind of person for who really wanted three lumps of sugar when he asked for two. Or really, three lumps when he ambiguously asked for nothing in particular. He just didn’t want to say it out loud.

Asaya grabbed the kettle and placed it under the running tap. While it was filling, she lit the smallest burner on the stove. Then ran back to the sink to turn off the faucet before it overflowed and finally placed the kettle on the burner. “Give it about five minutes.”

Itachi took off his cloak and draped it over the back of his chair, gesturing an arm to the seat across from him.

Asaya took the seat, smiling slightly while moving the two scrolls to the edge of the table. “Right, so-”

The kitchen door slammed open, causing both parties to turn their heads. “What the hell is this!?” Exclaimed the intruder.

In the doorframe stood a boy of fifteen years with his right arm extended to point down the hallway in an upset and accusatory motion. Clothed only in a baggy t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair, which was of a finger length dark brown color, had clearly not been brushed. “That thing can’t have been here more than ten minutes and it’s already snoring on the couch! And you,” he raised his other hand to point at Itachi, “What the hell are you both back for?!”

“Tsuta,” Asaya chided, “It’s the middle of the night. Don’t yell so loud.”

Tsuta didn’t take his eyes off of Itachi. “You could at least give us a little warning before you stop by in the dead of night, huh? Send a messenger crow or something.”

Before Itachi could respond, Asaya intervened, “Tsuta, you know this is just how things are.”

His brow pinched. “So? I live here just as much as you do.”

“We are not the ones who make the rules.” She reminded him calmly.

Tsuta was about to retaliate but held his tongue. He knew better; they’d had this argument many times. He lowered his arms and huffed, “Fine, but just because the big kahuna in the municipality of mud says so, doesn’t mean I gotta be happy about it.”

“I’m sure your grandfather would be proud of his new title.” Asaya dryly said. “Besides, it’s late. I’m too tired for this.” She tried to deflect.

Tsuta could have taken the hint, but he didn’t. “You say that but you don’t sleep until three in the morning. And you’re making tea- you have no intention of going to bed soon.”

“Yeah,” she held up one of the scrolls, “I have shit to do.”

 “Asaya, the kettle.” Itachi was the first to notice the steam and hiss that meant the kettle was about to obnoxiously erupt.

“Can I have some?” Tsuta asked presumptively. “What do you got that’s new?”

“Nothing.” Asaya answered. This was unusual, since Asaya frequently bought and tried new brands and styles of the beverage. “Most of the tins in the cupboard are empty.” Asaya was the kind of person who kept the empty tins, thinking she would later use them for some sort of recycled function, like storing spare change or miscellaneous objects. A few of the nicer ones were used in such a manner and were displayed on her desk. However, despite all her good intentions, she never collected change that amounted to more than laundry quarters or had much in the way of excess office supplies, so most tins were simply discarded sometime later.

The kettle erupted into a full whistle. Everyone in the room visibly winced as Asaya jumped up from her chair and over to the stove, where she seized the kettle and turned off the burner. As the harsh whistle simmered down, Asaya readied three mugs from another nearby shelf and asked “What does everyone want?”

“Mmmm…” Tsuta thought, “Chamomile, please.”

“Sure thing.” Asaya turned her head to look behind her, “Itachi? You wanted black tea right?”

“Yes. Plain.” Itachi had changed his mind.

Facing away from them, Asaya rolled her eyes. Both of them knew he hated the bitter taste of plain black tea. She could never relate to the desire to keep up the pretence.

“So, you never answered my question. What are you doing back this time?” Tsuta asked Itachi. Although as far as Itachi was concerned, pestered was a more fitting verb.

“He dropped off two sealed scrolls for me to open like I showed you, nothing special.” Asaya interjected again, pointing to the scrolls left on the kitchen table.

“Ya know, it’s rude to answer questions for people.”

Dammit, Tsuta. She really didn’t feel like managing his behavior. Tsuta didn’t like Itachi, and Itachi didn’t like Tsuta. They could just come to an armistice, but no. Tsuta had to be a stupid teenage boy. She loved him like a brother, but this had long since become taxing.

Itachi looked directly into the boy’s eyes. If the boy would just grow up and stop trying to stupidly push boundaries when he knew better, he and Itachi could have a perfectly functional agreement to mutualy ignore each other. In fact, Itachi respected Asaya’s relationship with the boy. He was actually witty and charismatic in a devil-may-care sort of way. And ultimately, Tsuta was a genuinely good friend to her. But circumstances were what they were. And the boy just had to provoke him with a cocked eyebrow and lip twitching in a smug smile.

Itachi sat slightly reclined with broad shoulders. “This is correct. Kisame and I are here to have the two scrolls unsealed. We should be gone by morning, provided all goes well.”  He said in monotone.

“Fair enough. Just as long as I don’t have to deal with Homo-Selachimorpha over on the couch and it doesn’t eat all the food I’ll be good.”

“They shouldn’t be more than a standard pain in my ass. They aren’t particularly highly classified- probably just mission reports from a year or two ago. Who asked you steal them? ” Asaya said while placing a mug on the table for Itachi and bringing another one to Tsuta.

“The Daimyo of Shimo, to my knowledge. They presumably contain controversial information about an international occurrence, but I was only given orders to retrieve and bring them to you. If you want to know their contents you can look for yourself.” Itachi took a sip of his tea, trying very much to not be visibly repulsed by the bitterness.

“Typical.” Asaya said indifferently. She grabbed her own mug from the counter and brought it with her to the table. She was drinking black tea as well, mostly for the higher caffeine content she would need to keep her awake all night. Although unlike Itachi, she loved the taste of it plain- the darker, the better.

 “Well whatever, I’m going back to bed.” Tsuta yawned. “Thanks for the tea, Asaya. Goodnight.” He turned and walked back to his room.

“Night, Tsuta!” Asaya called after him.

Itachi breathed a small sigh of relief. Furtively navigating the constraints of their situation and Tsuta’s ornery attitude was a challenge. Much more so for her than it was for him.

“Asaya, come here.” Itachi asked.

Her eyebrow arched, questioning his motives. “I’m sitting right here.”

“Just do me the favor.”

She got up from the chair to stand beside him. “And?”

He stiffly held out his tea mug to her.

“Oh, bullshit!” Asaya narrowed her eyes at him, only half serious. She gestured to the other side of the kitchen. “You’re a man- with man hands. You can get it yourself.”

“Please?”

She stared at him a moment before grabbing the mug from him and turning to add milk and sugar. Itachi heard her mutter “I hate you people.” under her breath, as well as some other obscenities he couldn’t quite catch.

Returning with the mug, she stiffly handed it to him. “Here.”

Itachi turned his body to face her. Looking her in the eyes, he took the cup from her small hand and brought it to his lips to drink. She had added milk but no sugar. “Thank you.”

Shrugging, Asaya made to sit back down, but a stray hand around her wrist stopped her. Itachi pulled her down into his lap, where she straddled him. “You think you’re funny.”

“I do.” Asaya smiled and draped her arms around his shoulders. “And you are being terribly conspicuous.” She pressed her forehead against his.

Itachi said nothing, instead encircling an arm around the small of her back, pulling her into him. He nestled his face into her neck where he kissed her collar bone. Asaya rested her chin on the top of his head, softly sighing in the sensation of his embrace. She had missed him, more than she could ever say. He began to suckle on her neck, for which he was rewarded with a small moan. “Oh…”  To hear her again…

The hand that had been resting on the kitchen table moved to grasp her thigh. Moving his lips up her neck, Itachi’s met hers in a series of needy kisses. She moaned a little louder into his mouth, and arched her back into him, trying so hard to push closer. His other hand slithered up her arm to pull down the strap of her tank top. She helped pull down the other one and pushed the whole top down to rest around her abdomen, revealing a plain white bra. His hand snuck around to fiddle with the clasp, which was no struggle to unhook. Once undone, he eagerly removed the inhibiting piece of clothing, and wantonly discarded it on the floor beside them. The fair skin of her breasts now freely exposed to him, he eagerly grasped one and kneaded it in his palm, leaning in again to kiss and nip at her neck. Blood surged through his body. The feel of her supple flesh in his hands was ecstasy.

Asaya closed her eyes and lost herself in the mix of sensations: his hand on her breast, his lips on her neck, the sound of his breath in her ear, his body pinned beneath her. “Nnh…” A small sting came from her left hip. Itachi’s hand, which had been grasping her thigh, maneuvered under her shorts and now hooked itself under the panty line over her hip, his nails lightly digging into her flesh. Knowing she couldn’t make an audible sound, she inhaled sharply and heaved her chest in labored breaths.

Asaya was about to reach for Itachi’s belt when a loud groan echoed from down the hall. They immediately pulled away from each other.

“It’s Kisame.” Itachi didn’t need to tell her- she could identify it well enough.

She hastily pulled up her top back up while she stood up. Smoothing out the bunched fabric of her shorts she scanned the area. “Where is my-? Oh…” 

Itachi held out her bra, “Hide it.”

Snatching it from him, she reacted quickly. There wasn’t time to put it back on so… She scrambled over to the countertop. Opening a lower cabinet- the one she retrieved the kettle from- she threw the article of clothing in, slammed the door shut, then turned back to face Itachi. He arched an eyebrow at her.

She shrugged. “What?”  her body language seemed to say.

Kisame rounded the doorframe with a loud yawn. Looking at the table, he saw Itachi sitting with two cups of tea before of him. Two? His eyes shot around the room. Asaya was standing with her back to the counter along the far wall. The Shark’s drowsy frame of mind took a minute to comprehend the situation. “So you’ve already explained our mission. Good.”

Itachi didn’t answer, and instead kept his gaze firmly positioned on Kisame, jaw shut.

“Ah, well… what is there to eat in this place?” Switching his concentration back to food, Kisame made his way over to the fridge. It had been a few days since he had last had any substantial meal, as he and Itachi had needed to travel from Kirigakure in as little time as possible.

Grabbing the handle, Kisame looked again at Asaya. They way her lip curled up and twitched ever so slightly, the way her beady eyes didn’t blink, the way her fingers clenched the edge of the countertop- like a cat about to mutilate a rodent. She despised him. It was so… exhilarating.

Itachi’s teeth began to grind as he saw the inner workings of Kisame’s mind reflect in his yellow eyes.

“Kisame, we will be departing by morning, so eat now and rest. We have no time to waist on fatigue tomorrow.” Itachi’s voice was a half step lower then he meant it to be.

“I see.” Refocusing on the fridge again, Kisame examined its contents. To his displeasure, there were scarce contents. A stray cabbage here, a half gallon of milk there. Upon closer inspection though, there was a small helping of raw ground beef tucked away in a top drawer. With a small huff, he took it and turned to go back the way he came, leaving the fridge door open.

Looking straight past Itachi through the doorway, Asaya growled in a low tone, “Fucker.”

Standing up from his chair, he grabbed both of their tea mugs and made his way over to close the fridge door with a foot, then to the sink to stand next to Asaya. “Here,” he held out the mug to her. “It’s getting late. You’ll need this.”

Asaya carefully took it in both hands, and held it very close to her chest. The warmth from the cup dispersed into her numb hands. “Thanks.” She muttered softly.

There was a splash in the sink as Itachi dumped his tea. Turning on the faucet, he rinsed out the cup and set it on the drying rack. “Be sure to get some sleep. I’ll see you again in the morning.” He gently rested a hand on her shoulder.

At his touch, she instinctively raised her own hand to rest on his. “You, too.”

Itachi lingered there for a moment before gently removing his hand and turning towards the door. “Goodnight,” he whispered.

“Night.” She said.

The two red and green scrolls remained sitting on the table, taunting her. “Ugh…” This was not going to be a fun night. She walked over to the table with slumped shoulders and placed the mug on the edge while she leaned over to scoop up the two objects. Leaning back up, her elbow hit the mug and knocked it off the table. The ceramic cylinder shattered upon hitting the wooden floor and the hot liquid splashed her feet.

Asaya closed her eyes, frustrated. She wanted very much to walk away and clean it up tomorrow, but that wouldn’t do. She retrieved the towel off of the oven door and knelt down to mop up the spilled tea.

A series of quick footsteps thudded down the stairs. “Hey, what was that noise?” Tsuta poked his head around the doorframe. Growing up around ninjas, he knew it was always better to investigate.

“Nothing.” She said flatly. “I just broke the mug.”

No one else was in the room, Tsuta noticed. “Here, let me help you.” He motioned towards her, then stopped when she commanded,

“Don’t. You’ll cut yourself.” She picked up the ceramic shards and wrapped them in the towel, then took it over to the trash bin and dumped the whole thing. The towel was more of a rag anyway. “I thought you said you were going to bed.” She said. “If you don’t sleep you can’t get any work done tomorrow.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I have a deadline. We’re here almost all the time, you know.”

They were referring to the renovating and cleaning that needed to be done in the house. It was an old farmhouse that had long been a secret post for Iwa. However, Asaya and Tsuta were the only ones to have occupied it since the war with Konoha, so the house looked a little more than neglected.

Located on the base of the mountain range bordering the lands of Earth and Grass, it was hidden just within the boundary of a dense forest. It was about half a day’s walk from the nearest village: close enough to blend in with the community, but far enough to conduct covert operations. This included ones that needed to be kept secret to all but select few in Iwa, like liaising with a universally condemned criminal organization. But “border security” and “reconnaissance” worked for appearance’s sake. A big part of this setup, though, was that in exchange for Akatsuki’s services, Iwa would offer its own.

“Well, my work does have a deadline. So I guess I should get started.” Asaya said while picking up the two scrolls from the table. She ruffed up Tsuta’s hair as she walked past him and headed to her workroom. “Night, kiddo.”

“Night.” He called after her.

It was a little after four in the morning when Asaya finished her work. Had it not been so late when she began, she might have finished earlier, but it really didn’t matter.

Leaning back from the desk, Asaya let her arms hang loosely at her side. Her eyes felt small and stiff. The study was a small room, located on the east half of the building, directly underneath her room. It was also one of only three rooms that had electricity since she needed a lamp to work in the dark. Although, the electricity was supplied by a chain of extension cords and an adapter that ran from an outlet in the kitchen. She looked at the red numbers on her clock, then out the open window.

The window was nice and large, and had a wonderful view of the sunrise, but that wouldn’t be for another hour or so. Standing up, Asaya streatched her arms and back. Sitting hunched over a desk for too long never felt good, no matter how comfy the cushion. Through the window, a nice, cool breeze drifted in and across the sweat on the back of her neck. It was nice. Seductively nice.

She yawned, rubbing her eyes. Maybe a small nap before she had to patrol the area at 6 wouldn’t be so bad? It wasn’t like she was going to find away to stay up for a couple hours by sitting at the desk.

Asaya pressed her had against the wall next to the bookshelf. The wall clicked, and a hidden door opened to reveal a ladder that led to her bedroom in the attic. When she climbed to the top, she pushed a trap door in the floor open. Heaving herself halfway up, she noticed that someone was in her bed.

She should have known. He was welcome there, of course, but she knew that if she joined him she wouldn’t get out of bed later when she needed to. Screw it, right now was a good a time to patrol as any. She slid the floorboard back into place as she climbed back down and made for the front door.

After slipping on her shoes, she opened the old screen door with a rusty screech. She and Tsuta really needed to replace the hinges. The door slammed shut behind her.

Itachi awoke to the sound of a metallic screech from the other side of the house. The sound was softened by the distance, but its unnatural pitch grating his eardrums woke him immediately. The slamming of the door let him know someone was probably exiting instead of entering.

 The soft fabric of Asaya’s sheets was draped over his bare chest. It was nice to sleep in this bed again, but it would have been warmer with company.

Rolling onto his back, he looked out the circular window. It was too dark outside to be the regular time she patrolled. She must have decided she wanted to get out of the house.

Or perhaps she decided she didn’t want to come to bed for some reason…

No matter thinking about it. He would meet her in an hour or so when the sun would rise. Like he promised

Closing his eyes, Itachi drifted back to sleep.

In the last quarter of the rout, Asaya cursed herself. She should have crawled into bed and slept. Not that it was cold now, but the bed would have been so cozy…

But every day she had to make two trips around the area; one at sunrise and one just after sunset. Honestly, if she wanted to she could probably skip them and it wouldn’t matter. Nothing ever happened out here. It wasn’t like any S-class criminals ever showed up somewhat regularly.

She walked this same road every time too. A small dirt road right along the boarder between Earth and Grass countries. On one side were the short, thin, and dense trees of the forest under the mountain range. On the other was just grass. Countless yellow-green blades that stretched well beyond one’s ability to see. Grass that swayed in the wind like the rippling ocean once one had sailed well past the shore.

But unlike the shore, the dirt road did not ebb and flow. It was not even a littoral zone that sheltered a unique ecosystem of plant and animal life. It was a line of soil made infertile by just enough people traveling it regularly to squash plant life before it even germinated. People like her. Two feet to the left was where no saplings dared sprout. Two feet to her left was a different country. Two feet from the road was where she could not step.

The view was almost always beautiful, though admittedly the forbidden was inherently attractive. The simplicity of the grass below a huge sky was enchanting. The world was observable in a scope and clarity otherwise obscured by mountains and trees; rain falling over a distant town while one stayed dry in the sun, the spiraling solar system shifting as the earth tilted and spun on its axis, even the weight of the air as it condensed and expanded with changes barometric pressure.

Asaya’s sweaty, exhausted figure clashed with the beautiful scenery. At some point she had tied her hair up into a messy bun to keep the humidity from building up behind her neck. Her cheeks were stained with a red fluster and a sweaty sheen coated her shoulders and chest. The tank top she wore was awkwardly twisted around her torso and its neckline skewed to one side. Dark circles framed her eyes, amplified by a puffy squint.

“You look terrible. You should have come to bed.”

Asaya smiled. She had been too tired to hear him creep up behind her. “Thanks. I wanted to, but it was occupied.”

“So make room for yourself. If you want something, take it.”

Blushing, Asaya turned around. Itachi stood in front of her, his neutral stare giving no indication he was joking. And in her lethargic state she almost missed it. “I suppose I should have.” She smirked. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to leave ASAP.”

“Kisame won’t wake up until ten, if I’m at all lucky.” He turned to walk towards the trees. “Come, sit with me.” He picked a spot leaning against the trunk of a large tree and sat with one outstretched leg.

Running her tongue over her teeth, she thought for a moment. She knelt beside him, but instead of sitting next to him she crawled into his lap.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“You said if I want something I should take it.” She untied her hair and rested her head against his chest, closing her eyes.

“You are being terribly conspicuous.” He said.

“Yeah? I’m not the one who took my bra off in the kitchen.” She had since put a new one on, of course, but she would have to remember to take that particular one out of the cabinet when she got home.

Itachi almost laughed. “How was unsealing the scrolls?”

 She let him change the subject. “Fine. Same stuff I’ve done before. Nothing special. I left them on my desk for you, if you were wondering.”

He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her an inch closer. Sure they were out in the open, but no one was around for miles. And moments like this weren’t all that often.

“What did you think of the book?” He heard the tiredness in her voice. She was about to pass out, but if she did he didn’t know when their next chance to speak would be.

“Oh, right. I forgot.” She brightened up just a little. “I didn’t finish it. Sorry. I will next time.”

“But are you enjoying it?”

“Yes. It manages to be quite endearing for how dark it can be.”

Itachi rested his chin on her head. “Good.” That was all he really wanted to know. That she enjoyed it too.

“I was a little surprised you recommended it. You usually like denser, philosophical reads.” She said. “This is the kind of book you like just because.”

“It seemed like something you’d like; something both light in tone and dark in subject.”

Asaya said nothing and waited for him to elaborate.

“I read it when I was a child. I have certain nostalgia for it.” He ran his fingers through her hair. Hair that was a light, ashy brown color like that of a wild rabbit’s. At this point, that particular color and gentle curls were all he could really perceive when he looked at her. Her eyes were the same light brown, and in certain light they would reflect gold, but that was just a memory now.

“I see.” She sounded tired again. “Did someone read it to you?”

“No.” He said. It was the opposite, in fact. “It’s just something I remembered enjoying.”

The rise and fall of his chest lulled her. Asaya wanted to keep talking, but the energy to form sentences eluded her. She grabbed his arm and held it tightly, like she was trying to anchor him there.

Before them, the stars disappeared as the sky turned from black to a dark blue. A thin layer of mist gently hovered and swirled over the grass, emanating a subtle, unearthly glow as it absorbed whatever celestial light there was. From the trees came the first chirps of nesting birds as they awoke from slumber.

Itachi felt her weight lean against him just a bit more as her muscles relaxed and her grip on his arm loosened. She was falling asleep.

Lifting a hand to caress her cheek, Itachi tucked a stray hair behind her ear, in which he softly whispered, “I can’t be here when you wake up.”

Asaya was already half lost to sleep, but the sensation of his breath on her ear and neck aroused her enough to hear him. “I know.”

The sun had broken into the sky, disintegrating the shroud of mist with its rising heat. Itachi held Asaya for a time much more fleeting than the eternity he wanted. She was in a deep enough sleep that he could tenderly kiss her forehead without her so much as twitching. Maneuvering out from under her, he carefully rested her under the shade of the tree. He hesitated a moment before walking away. The sun wasn’t particularly strong or hot yet, but he worried about her fair skin burning.

Gazing at her sleeping figure one last time before leaving, Itachi whispered a word of departure and turned back towards the house. In time, he would be back. At least once more.

Through a small crack between navy curtains, a tiny beam of sunlight aimed itself directly into the face of a sleeping boy. Irritated by the intrusion of daylight into his slumber, Tsuta rolled over and covered his face with a pillow.

This was but a vain effort to fall back asleep. There was a new problem; the urge to relieve himself. Maybe if he just ignored it, it would go away?

No.

Groaning in defeat, Tsuta flung the covers from his body. There was no sense in trying to sleep when nature decided otherwise. Tsuta dragged his feet as he walked down the hall to the last door on the left. A loud flush resonated from the bathroom as Tsuta concluded his business. Now he could shuffle himself back to bed and finish his much needed rest.

However, the clock on the hallway wall begged to differ. The hour and minute of 1:34pm was boldly displayed on its face. The detestable thing hung itself right in front of Tsuta, just to break his dream he was sure.

Wait, hadn’t Itachi said he and Kisame would leave early that morning? If so, then they would be long gone by now, in which case he could safely go downstairs and make breakfast. Or really, a late lunch as it was far past morning.

The sound of Tsuta’s footfalls reverberated throughout the house as he trampled down the stairs. A stagnant air always loomed in the house whenever any of the Akatsuki ‘visited,’ and a breath of freshness flowed anew whenever they left. Sunlight cheerfully shown through the windows and into the kitchen, uninhibited by any form of overcast. The absence of the criminals really did brighten the house back up.

The only form of disturbance within the kitchen was the grumbling of Tsuta’s stomach. Having missed breakfast and now being overdue for lunch, the boy was a little more than hungry. But what to eat? The instant ramen he usually made whenever he and Asaya needed to visit town was unappealing at this point.

Speaking of which, where was she anyway? Probably upstairs drooling on her pillowcase in a deeper sleep than he had previously been, he guessed. Bottomless, quite possibly.

But anyway, back to food. If not ramen, then what else was there? Cereal was out of the question, as they had run out of milk a week ago, and he wasn’t in the mood for something cold and fibrous. Something warm and full of protein was what he needed. And as he remembered, there were some ground beef leftover in the fridge. As he opened the door he looked into the top drawer. “Oh, fuck no…” The drawer was empty. “That bastard…” Tsuta grumbled to himself. If only he had the means to punch Kisame in the face. Hard.

Seeing as there were no realistic means by which to accomplish that longstanding dream, he might as well concentrate back on satisfying his empty stomach. On the door of the fridge was a full carton of half-dozen eggs. Perhaps scrambled eggs weren’t too bad. After grabbing two from the shelf, he placed them on the counter top next to the stove. He knelt down to open the lower cabinet assigned to storing pots and pans. Reaching in a hand, he was surprised to pull out something made of white cloth. Upon further examination Tsuta found the item to be shaped from two cotton half spheres and a few elastic straps: a bra.

“The fuck…?”

Dawn.

The bright sun of an early spring morning shined down onto an open meadow. All forms of life were alive and flourishing. The flowers, now in full blossom, proudly flaunted their colors, each hue sprinkled throughout a background of the brightest green. Small perching birds remained nested and sang little notes as they coddled their hatchlings. Even the insects, with their penchant for irritating all inhabitants, politely respected the hallowed moment. And everything, down to each individual blade of fresh, green grass was slicked with sweet dew. 

In a scant canopy of tall grass, a pair of rabbits remained close together, a black one sleeping peacefully and another white one munching quietly on their lofty surroundings. The sleeping one’s chest lightly rose and fell with the tempo of its slow breathing, and its leg twitched every so often in delight of what may have been an engaging dream.

The white rabbit abruptly stood up onto its hind legs, rotating its ears from side to side. Just a moment before it thought it heard a rustling from beyond the grass. It turned its head sharply to the right. This time sure it heard the soft sound of a predator’s cautious footsteps.

Leaning back down, the white rabbit slowly made its way over to its sleeping mate, and gave it a nudge. The eyes of the black one blinked a couple times as they stared into the deep red of the other’s, who nudged its partner again, clearly uneasy. Though drowsy, the black one was quickly brought to attention when it too heard the rustling. Now on all fours, it followed closely behind the white one as they crawled back towards their burrow.

From in front, the white one halted. Only two feet from their sanctuary, the black one wondered what could be wrong. Why halt now, when safety was so close?

The white rabbit again shifted its ears from side to side, listening closely for any sound to indicate what lurked hidden behind the grass.  It heard nothing. No sound emanated from around them: no whistling wind, no tweeting from birds, not even the infernal buzzing of a stray bumble bee. Was whatever had been there gone now? No, it couldn’t be…

I front of them a crimson burst erupted through the emerald stocks of grass.  It pounced and landed, clawed feet only an inch or so from the white rabbit. Now looming over it was the sickeningly yellow eyes of a red fox, staring directly into the red of the rabbit’s. Their black pupils communicated the perpetual understanding between predator and prey; run.

In an instant both rabbits turned and fled. The pair moved their feet under them as fast as they could, and the red fox covered their footprints. At a rapid pace they darted through the underbrush, gaining for themselves a slight lead. Between grass, bushes, and roots they ran until they entered unto the flat expanse of an open field.

Against the lush green of their new background, the two differed dramatically in their individual ability to camouflage. The black rabbit, with its apt dark hue, easily blended in with the shadows cast between the hills. Its white companion, however, could be as easily seen as a flamingo in a bevy of swans, even despite the dim light of morning.

A few strides into the field the white rabbit, running side by side with the black one, slowed to a stop and looked back at the underbrush through which they previously came. Where was the fox? There was no trace of even the faintest movement within the tall grass. Had it gone? Were they safe?

From a ways ahead the black rabbit noticed the absence of its mate’s footfalls. It too stopped, and looked back for the other. Immediately black eyes set upon the pristine white of the other’s coat. The white rabbit was still looking back at the path through which they came. What was it waiting for? The fox, though not in sight, would certainly catch it.

The black rabbit’s heart pounded faster. It turned and hurried towards its companion, only to be halted when an illustrious white head turned and red eyes locked its own profound black. Anxious, a long ear inquisitively rotated on the axis of a black head: what are you waiting for?

The same red flame spewed forth from the between the blades of tall grass. The fox curled its jowls back to expose threatening canine teeth, yellowed by extensive use and years of accumulated tarter. A slick sheen of saliva outlined the corners of a black muzzle, and the pink tissue of a tongue protruded ever so slightly from between sharp incisors. Ears and eyes were pinned forward to lock directly onto the small form of opaque white fur.

The white rabbit bolted off again as soon as it saw the flaring red of its predator. It looked straight forward at the feint outline of the other. From ahead, the black rabbit stood still as it restlessly waited for its mate to catch up. It had seen a small, abandoned hole up ahead in which they could both hide. If they could just reach it together…

But the fox was so close on the white plume running ahead. A little rabbit heart pumped blood as fast as it possibly could, lungs intaking and expelling air even faster. It concentrated on the shadowed figure of the black rabbit waiting up ahead. Didn’t it know to run? If it lingered, there was the very real possibility that the fox would kill it too. And the white one was directly leading the fox to it…

In a split second, the white rabbit turned on its hindquarters in a sharp ninety degree angle to the left. The red fox, which was thrown off for a second, spun its back legs out and tried to quickly regain composure and follow its prey. It fell back a foot or so behind the closure it had on the rabbit.

Both the hunter and the hunted now grew tired. The fox now ran with its mouth gaping open, teeth bared and breathing hard, causing a froth of saliva to drip from a swollen mucous membrane. The rabbit fluctuated its tiny lungs as efficiently as it could, diffusing as much oxygen as possible to tired muscles. Its pink nose began to feel raw with the sting of air forced too quickly in and out of the small passage.

The fox knew that if it didn’t capture the rabbit soon, it would collapse and its hunt would be for nothing. Quite possibly the rabbit knew this too as it pushed forward and back into the direction of the stocks of grass from whence they came.  If it could reach them then possibly it could lose the fox and hide until safe.

From a hill on high the black rabbit watched as its white partner darted away. Where was it going? Its own heat beat fretfully as it followed the direction the other ran off in, easily keeping the two in sight from its elevated position.

The pair below raced madly, each trying desperately to reach their own goal. The white rabbit was almost free now, only a short distance from shelter, chest lightening in anticipation. Luminous white feet placed themselves in perfect stride. Until its front-right paw fell upon a minute and very tangible pebble.

In an undying instant the immaculate form of the white rabbit tumbled to the ground. The air in its chest froze as it smashed itself face first into dirt. Seizing its chance, the fox thrust its fangs forward and into the delicate jugular of its prey. The white rabbit didn’t even notice as it lost consciousness. 

In the distance, the black rabbit watched every moment as the image of the red fox lunged over its mate. Its body arrested itself, lungs unmoving, yet the pounding of a tiny heart rung in ebony ears as the horror sunk in.

The white rabbit was dead.

With a sharp intake of breath Asaya awoke. Her eyes gawked open and she immediately sat up. Shaking hands clutched her wavering chest, as a cold sweat coated her face and a hot chill ran down her spine. What was that? She wondered. Whatever that dream was had been was too real. She hadn’t had a dream as vivid and heartrending in years, if ever. No, that was no dream. It was a nightmare. About rabbits of all things.

With a deep sigh Asaya fell down to lie on her back, splaying her arms out beside her. She took a few more deep breaths, and looked up at the lacing branches above her. Branches? When did I get here? It didn’t take long before she remembered resting beside a tree with Itachi. The same tree she was still under now. He must have left her sometime after she had fallen asleep, like he had said he would.

Asaya blinked as she looked up at the sky. She must have been asleep for a long while, as there was no longer any light in the sky- no sunlight anyway. The only source of luminance was the ambiguous cluster of stars that shown through the otherwise empty night sky. There was no moonlight either, as that sphere had disappeared at the end of its rebirth cycle. (…was hiding in the beginning of its cycle of rebirth.)

Out in the country, the stars were much more vivid. Whenever Asaya looked up while she lived in Iwagakure, she always noted that the ubiquitous lamp lights, hung to guide people as they crossed over the villages many bridges, diluted the intensity of the night sky, making its fine details vanish. Effectively though, those same lamp lights had their own equally pleasing view, gently swaying in the breeze as they emanated an ethereal glow.

Rolling onto her side, Asaya could see the grass fields of Kusagakure. They looked peaceful. A soft rustle echoed into her ears as wind rolled across the tall stocks, making them bend and wave in rustling motions. Maybe there are rabbits out there too… She thought mockingly. If there were, they would most likely be sleeping, and dreaming their own dreams, but no matter.

As of now, Asya was alone, and out at night in this scenery it was too depressing to be without someone else.  She propped herself back up and sat cross legged, elbows resting on her knees, and gave another glance at the field.

That immeasurable distance before her was unknown territory, as she was not allowed to set foot beyond the border. Doing so would have been viewed as an act of treason against her own country and a declaration of war against Kusa.

Standing up, Asaya dusted off her clothes and pulled them back into place from the skewed position sleeping on dirt had left them in. She untied her bun and used her fingers to comb out her hair. Small partials of debris had found their way into the fine strands of her black hair. And a few tangles needed to be removed too. It had always bothered her that no matter how thoroughly or frequently she combed it, her infuriatingly thin strands would always carry a hidden kink. After she was satisfied with her improvised grooming, she tied up her hair again in another bun equally as untidy as the first (despite the intention to keep herself manicured) and then turned and headed back towards the house. Soon, she would be home and safe to relax.

Just up one final hill was the house. It stood stark and desolate; shingles and siding barely clung to its frame and extensive weather damage gave almost no hint to whatever color the wood had originally been stained. But to Asaya it was a welcomed haven.

As she approached closer, she could see a light originating from the corner of the house occupied by the living room. Tsuta must have still been awake. How late at night was it anyway? Hopefully not too late, as Asaya didn’t want to upset her delicately arranged sleep schedule too much.

Treading up to the front door, she lazily kicked off her sandals to the side, twisted the doorknob, and quietly snuck in. If she was quiet enough, she could avoid Tsuta and whatever explanations he would demand of her extended disappearance. At least until tomorrow. Luckily, being a trained kunoichi left her more than sufficiently trained to avoid detection from a simple teenage boy. Though despite those teachings, Asaya couldn’t help but take a small peek through the small crack in the living room’s sliding door, to look in on whatever Tsuta might be up to…

Tsuta slept on his back across a small, worn futon. His right arm rested over his eyes and a wonton leg hung over the side his makeshift bed. Sleeping without a pillow forced his head to tilt back at an unusual angle, causing his jaw to hang open ever so slightly. On the low table before him rested an open book and a half empty cup of cold tea. He must have stayed up late for me, she realized.

It was a wonder how someone as large as Kisame was able to make himself comfortable on that feeble piece of furniture. She and Tsuta were only able to fit because of their short height, and Tsuta just barely now that he was in the middle of another growth spurt. Sparsely had Asaya ever actually seen Kisame sleep on the furnishing, but she imagined he looked like an overgrown toddler trying to fit back into the crib of its infancy.

Chuckling, Asaya slowly opened the door and crept inside. She wouldn’t need to worry about him waking, he slept deeply enough. Over the back of the futon lay a cotton quilt, stitched from uncountable squares of miscellaneous patterns. Neither she nor Tsuta remembered where the thing had come from; simply that it had always been in the house. Asaya grabbed the quilt from over him and unfolded it in both hands. With a gentle motion she draped it over Tsuta’s sleeping body. Tenderly she tucked him in, and stroked his cheek as she whispered a soft goodnight.

After her maternal moment, Asaya turned around to the table to pick up the teacup and book. Examining the piece of literature in her hands, she immediately recognized it. It was small and thin, not even two hundred pages in length. On the cover of the navy clothbound book the title was displayed in faux gold foiling; Watership Down. A big grin appeared on Asaya’s face as she read the title. This was the book Itachi had given her. Apparently Tsuta had found it from wherever she had left it.

Asaya bent over and blew out the oil lamp on the table. Unfortunately, the kitchen was the only room in the house with any form of electricity, unreliable as it was. Leaving the book on the table for Tsuta, she took the teacup with her as she exited the room, heading towards the kitchen where she would rinse out the cup and set it on the rack to dry. After doing so she trotted upstairs to her own room.

After opening the door, her eyes immediately settled on her own bed. It too was a futon, but thankfully larger and with a much more comfortable mattress. The sheets were laid out perfectly, as if no one had ever used them. Itachi must have arranged them before he left. Though she was thankful for his generosity, it troubled her at the same time. His immaculate assembling of her sheets gave the bed a characteristic emptiness whenever he left. As if he had never been there at all…

Maybe that was his intention…, Asaya thought, then immediately shook herself out of her forlorn disposition. There was no sense in sulking. Itachi would be back eventually, she just had to wait.

Treading over to her dresser, she changed out of her dirty clothes and into a new set of lightweight pajamas. Tonight was another humid tempest and she didn’t like to feel hot and sweaty in her own bed. Asaya already felt a coat of grime on her body, but decided to forgo taking a shower for sake of how exhausted she still was. Besides, as soon as she woke up she’d just have to patrol again.

Crawling into bed, Asaya laid awake for only a few moments before she fell back asleep, this time to hopefully not dream about rabbits. 

In the frosty air of an early winter’s night, the dulcet sound of music faintly rang outside the doors of a concert hall. Every note elegantly pattered along the walls and out through the cracks and crevices between doors and windows. The premiere attraction was a classical soloist. The performance hosted a sold-out house of listeners and one additional that hadn’t paid for a ticket.

Upon the rooftop next to an air vent, the additional listener sat with her arms huddled around her torso, eager to hear the performance after long weeks of travel. Asaya first saw a small poster advertising it on the wall of the hotel they stayed at two days ago when she and her “escorts” entered the city. She decided it would make a good excuse to break away from the two Akatsuki.

Traveling with them was strange at best. Entire days had passed when not a word was exchanged between any of them, save for maybe a couple of lines about what fork in the road to take and where to stop for the night. She had been with them for who knew how fucking long and she still didn’t know why they took her or where they were taking her to. She only knew that it wouldn’t be good.

At least they were in a town now instead of the winter wilderness. She could sleep in a hotel room with a thermostat and warm beds and real food. Sleeping on the cold ground next to two missing-nin had was not enjoyable.

Oh, how they infuriated her! Besides the automatic dislike Asaya had of them since they first abducted, restrained, and beat her, they were just plan horrible to be around. The hulking blue shark hybrid known as Hoshigaki Kisame gave her a bruise whenever he could justify it to himself. Which had been a few times, because Asaya was not always obedient. Quiet, sure, but not obedient. And even then, not always quiet enough.

She had tried to run many times and had been successful twice, if only for a short time. Now, at the first sign of stepping out of line Kisame would remind her that she was not going to make a fool of him again. Asaya traced a finger along the tender bruise on the outer rim of her left eye. It was mottled yellow and purple with a few spots of red from burst capillaries. Somehow, sitting out here in the open air away from the both of them, it didn’t hurt.

Uchiha Itachi, however, was an entirely different experience. Although he was the one who initially captured her, he had only once, in any capacity of the word, hurt her. The memory of skeletal fingers slipping around her throat still haunted her at night. He was more a shadow than a man, but he had a stare Asaya wouldn’t dare look into. The hollow blackness of his eyes stripped her naked before him and rendered her nothing more than a blemished soul displayed beneath an omniscient god to determine her final judgement. Whatever he thought was as enigmatic as the void between stars or the space between atomic particles. She only knew that the man was capable of inflicting greater harm to her than his partner ever could.

And here she was now, away from them, alone, sitting on top of a concert hall, enjoying the warm exhaust from an air vent and the echo of beautiful music. She was only able to get away because Itachi had left her solely in the care of Kisame while he went off and took care of whatever “business” she didn’t need to know anything about. Kisame, being his lovely self, tied her up and threw her in a closet, confident for some reason that it would contain her. Where he had gone after that she didn’t know, but she knew it was probably somewhere stupid.

It was absurd; she didn’t even have a plan to go anywhere or to get back to Iwa. She didn’t really know where she was other than a city in northern Waterfall Country, she didn’t have a map, and even if she did, the distance was so far and this foreign country so hostile to her own that either they’d catch her again or Takigakure shinobi would. Either way, she was the same amount of screwed. Might as well let them, likely Itachi, find her.

The experience of listening through an air vent on the rooftop wasn’t bad, actually. The night was cold, but the heat warmed her like a cozy fireplace. The echo through the metal vents gave a warped distance to the sound that Asaya found uniquely intriguing, as it beckoned her from far away.

A cry of applause erupted as the soloist finished their piece. The loud volume was well deserved, nearly masking all other sound from entering Asaya’s small, chilled ears. Almost.

The tread of a man’s steps reached her ear, like a subtle improvisation to the music as written. He clearly intended to announce his presence by them, otherwise she never would have known. That, and his flaring chakra. “What are you doing here?” he asked. By his tone, she knew that there was no answer that would satisfy him. Asaya turned her head to look at him over her right shoulder. Itachi stood behind her with his black and red cloak fully zipped up and the high collar obscured the lower half of his face. Not that he ever smiled, but he was definitely scowling.

Asaya did not give him an answer and instead turned back to the empty, soundless vent. “Have you gone deaf?” he only half expected her to say anything. The young woman knew that silence was her only defense, even if it wasn’t a strong one. She also knew that observation was her only form of assault even when it didn’t do much damage. To her credit, she was an astute captive, as if she had been one her whole life.

Itachi had gone to the outskirts of town to speak with Zetsu, leaving Asaya with Kisame for the time being. At first, he hoped that Zetsu would finally give him an explanation for why they had kidnapped the kunoichi since, inexplicably, he was only given instruction to capture and detain her until further notice. But no, all the plant man wanted was an update on her health and wellbeing so he could report back to Pain. Itachi did not like not knowing how long he would be holding her or what he was doing so for.

After giving Zetsu the update, Itachi immediately returned to the hotel. He was not entirely trusting of Kisame’s babysitting skills, but he needed to if he wanted to prevent Asaya from overhearing the wrong thing from Zetsu. Unfortunately, not only was Itachi’s lack of trust founded, but Zetsu hadn’t said anything worth censoring anyway. Itachi found Kisame drunkenly sleeping in his room. The owner of the establishment reported that Kisame had caused “a ruckus” downstairs. This behavior was not uncommon for Kisame, especially after a long period of rough travel, but Itachi had hoped his partner would know better than to think this was a good time. Or any kind of time for it at all.

The closet doors had been left wide open and discarded rope lay on the floor. It appeared that Kisame, despite all his knowledge about the girl and her abilities, thought that rope would be sufficient to hold her. This was not a good night.

Surprisingly, it did not take long to find her. The only reason it took any time at all was because the crowded city made it hard to pinpoint her chakra in the noise of so many othes. She had made no effort to cover her tracks, left no misleading trails, nor did she even hide her chakra signature from him. She was not hiding in the basement of some bar or a back alley or even a police station. She just sat on the roof of a concert hall.

Why didn’t she just run? Itachi asked himself. It was the perfect opportunity. “I asked you a question.”

“I have a name,” she said, not meeting his gaze.

“You also have a voice. Tell me, Kagami, what are you doing?”

Asaya remained quiet for a moment longer, but he could tell that she was thinking. “My name is Asaya, and I am listening.”

“To what, exactly? The silence of your voice?” he was not normally one for bitter remarks, but the situation called for it.

Asaya turned her head again over her left shoulder to look at Itachi. He almost winced at the sight of the swollen bruise around her left eye. Mottled yellow, green, and purple seemed to bloom like a flower around it. Every time he saw it, it appeared to grow. Kisame had given it to her two days ago after she’d murmured something insulting under her breath. She had miscalculated how much attention he had been paying to her and he backhanded her without a second thought.

She brought one index finger to her lips and extended the other to point at the vent. Itachi walked closer to peer over her shoulder.

A loud 7^th chord shot out of the vent quickly followed by a series of trills. She came all the way out here to listen to a classical music performance. “Music? Was this really your master escape plan? Or did you have something else in mind?”

Silence again. She would not argue with him and his callous words.

“Kaga-“

“Asaya.”

His eyes narrowed, “Only if you will answer my question.”

It took a moment for Asaya to organize her thoughts and compose and answer. She thought about lying, but nothing witty enough came to mind. She didn’t know if he would understand or be receptive to the truth, but she gambled with it anyway. “Your partner tied me up and threw me in a closet soon after you left. I didn’t want to be there when he returned from,” she paused, “whatever he had been doing.”

Itachi’s eyes widened just a bit. Of course. How could he not have anticipated her fears, given all he had seen happen to women over the years? “That won’t happen,” he asserted.

She glared at him, her bruised left eye challenging his credibility. It seemed to question what made him so confident.

Because he would not tolerate it, Itachi thought, but she wouldn’t believe him. She knew better than to trust him. “You are a hostage, Ka- Asaya,” he said, “It is in our interest to keep you safe.” He couldn’t make a long-term promise, however.

“If I m a hostage, the who are you trying to bribe? And for what?”

Itachi cursed himself for not choosing his words more carefully. He didn’t actually know if she was a hostage. “What do you think?” he asked like she should already know to try and get her to reveal something he didn’t.

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “Really, I don’t.”

Damn, she was smart enough not to fall for it, but she still appeared to be telling the truth. “What do you know, then?”

Asaya knew not to play too dumb. “I know that you are part of a criminal organization and you answer to a higher authority of some kind. There must be more members or affiliates, although I can’t imagine too many because you seem to work internationally without being detected, otherwise I probably would have heard of your organization before. Other than that, I only know of you and Kisame- and the strange plant man I’ve seen you speak to. He must be a messenger.”

“Correct, we are members of a small international criminal organization on missing-nin called the Akatsuki.” He might as well give her the name. “One more question: why didn’t you try and actually run? It’s foolish to sit here and wait to be found.” She had the perfect opportunity and she had squandered it.

Taken aback, Asaya looked back into the vent out of which a fast tempo hammered. “Because it would be futile. I only know we’re somewhere in Waterfall Country, which is openly hostile to my own. I’m so far from Iwa that either you’d track me down or Takigakure shinobi would.”

Itachi let the sharp plucking of taught strings fill the air between them.

Asaya tapped her fingers on her arm in time with the music, then asked, “You don’t know why you were ordered to capture me, do you?” just loud enough to be heard.

Itachi’s pride did not like to admit she was right. “No, I do not,” his tone fell, and he saw irritation plaster itself across her face and her fingers gripped her forearms just a bit tighter. He found it oddly relatable.

“I was only ordered to abduct and detain you until further notice. But for now, you are our captive and you are safe so long as you comply,” he studied bruised eye.

It was obvious what he alluded to. She wanted to ask him exactly she was “safe” from of out of spite, to force him to say it as an act of what little power she had. But she felt too uncomfortable. And, ultimately, what did it matter? His words were empty from her perspective. However, she would admit that it was kind of him to try and offer her some peace of mind. “And after you have found your use for me?”

“I promise you nothing.”

A heavy silence dangled between them, contrasting with the light melody echoing through the vent. Within that conflict, they both realized the weight of an uncertain future.

A harsh wind blew past them, seeming to bring with it an opportunity to reassess the mood. Itachi stood firm, not at all swayed by the element. Asaya, however, shivered and huddled further into herself. Hair untied, her ashy curls wisped in a laced flurry. When the wind finally passed, she gathered it all, twisted it together, and tucked it between her neck and shoulder.

Hesitation seeped into the silence that wasn’t. Wouldn’t he take her back now? He made no motion to reach out and grab her, nor had he cast a genjutsu over her- at least not as far as she could tell, but that wasn’t saying much.

To ease her nerves, she looked out over the city. Bright lights littered the earth, abruptly disappearing where the city met the sea. Between them, the hustle and bustle of salesmen, shoppers, stray animals and countless other things happened, completely invisible to her eyes. “How many cities are like this? The villages near Iwa are nothing in comparison.” She absentmindedly asked, then instantly worried she had spoken out of turn.

“Countless. Many are comparable, this is just the largest in northern Waterfall.” Somewhat distracted by the music, Itachi answered without really thinking.

Hearing the ease with which he answered made her comfortable enough to ask another, “Are there cities as large as the Imperial City, Earth Country’s capitol?”

“A few are even larger, but the only ones this far north are in Lightning-” a thought struck him mid-sentence. “Have you ever been outside of Iwa? Were you allowed to?” The way she acted so surprised by the ordinary grandeur made him question her experiences.

A blush crept into her cheeks at the embarrassment of appearing naïve. “I’ve been to the Imperial City once a few years ago. I only get missions in the area surrounding Iwa. And I’ve been to the city where Rengeoin Temple is, if you’ll recall.”

“I see,” was all Itachi said. The temple had been where they first encountered one another. The abandoned bonsho on the eastern ridge, to be more specific. “As a kunoichi, what position are you in to never travel far from Iwa for missions?” he was suspicious. She was no low-level genin, he’d seen what she was capable of. She was a jonin. Peculiar.

For no good reason, she stumbled, “Oh, the- the Torture and Interrogation Division.” She cursed herself. She had rehearsed that lie.

Itachi knew immediately that she lied. Not because she seemed an unlikely candidate for it, being a young woman with an ostensibly diminutive bearing, but because she had shown alarm at his question followed by a pause to respond, and then stumbled over her answer. He knew she would lie, but he was disappointed she hadn’t lied better.

“I see,” he said again, thinking it best not to interrogate her further for now. Whatever she was hiding was likely the key to understanding why she had been kidnapped, but he could wait for a better time.

Asaya’s eyes waivered as she evaluated his reaction. He knew she was lying; she was sure of it. He had to. Mercifully, he didn’t choose to pursue further questioning, at least not right now. But when he asked later, who knew what would happen.

The soloist finished their final series of notes and chords and the audience erupted in applause and whistles.

Itachi took it as his signal to take Asaya back to the hotel. “It’s getting late,” he cued her. She obediently stood up and smoothed the wrinkles from her tattered kimono. It had looked so nice when they’d first met.

Itachi turned and Asaya followed his lead.

As they walked through the entrance of the hotel, Itachi removed his cloak. He approached the front desk where the owners, an elderly married couple, were conversing. Rather loudly, since they presumably suffered age-related hearing loss. They greeted their guests. “Oh, my, haven’t you both been out late. Do you need anything?” the old woman asked sweetly.

“Room 237 could use an additional comforter,” Itachi stated.

“Ah, I see, I see,” the old woman said while squinting at him. “My apologies. It’s rather chilly tonight. I’ll bring up another one shortly.”

Itachi gave a small nod then made towards the stairs.

“Is there anything you need, dear?” the old woman asked Asaya as she passed.

“No, but thank you,” Asaya answered in a feminine tone and tilted her head slightly, then quickly caught up to Itachi on the stairs.

Upon reaching room 237, Itachi opened the door with a key and motioned Asaya inside. “You will be staying here tonight.” He thought about activating his sharingan just to remind her of his power, but he didn’t feel it necessary.

The room was exactly as she had left it. The closet doors hung open with rope on the floor inside. And the window was still open, so it was as frigid inside the hotel room as the night outside. Kisame, for whatever reason, was not here. He was probably stumbled drunkenly into the second room they had booked, and if he was anywhere else, well, Asaya didn’t care.

The first thing Asaya did was shut the window. She had known she would return. If only she’d had the foresight to close it when she’d left. Hopefully, it would warm up soon. She then sat on the farther of the two beds from the window- Itachi never let her sleep in the one closest to it- and crossed her legs. She hadn’t paid attention, but Itachi already finished whatever ritual he did before bed and now laid under the covers. They’d had an interesting conversation, she thought. Interesting in that it revealed he didn’t know any more about the situation then she did. Even less, really. Asaya, of course, knew with almost certainty why they captured her. The real question was why Itachi didn’t.

Before she could think on it further, someone knocked on the door. She answered it to find the old woman from the front desk carrying an extra-fluffy comforter. “This was the warmest I could find,” she said, handing it to Asaya. “Oh my, seems I’ve chosen right. What a frigid draft.”

“We just realized the window had been cracked. It’s closed now, though,” Asaya said.

“That’s good. And in any case, you have each other to-” the old woman glanced passed Asaya at the two separate twin beds and the knowing grin slid of her face- “Never mind. I’m sure this will keep you warm. Sleep well.” She bowed and left.

“Thank you, goodnight,” Asaya said, wondering how many other people made the same or similar assumption? Or a worse one? Probably a lot, and probably many more would. It was something to get used to.

“Here is the comforter you wanted, Itachi,” Asaya called to him, but he didn’t answer. “Itachi?” she called again.

“I don’t need it,” Itachi said with a subtle undertone of annoyance. He lay on his side facing the window, not bothering to turn his head to speak to her.

Asaya’s chest tightened just a bit. Oh, she thought confused and clutched it to her breast. She took it to her bed and spread it out. Then, she removed her outer layer of clothing, the tattered kimono and obi, and crawled under the covers. She curled her legs close under herself and tucked both arms against her chest. The bed was still cold, but it would warm up soon.

PART I

Itachi and Kisame had not traversed Earth Country for some time. They had last been there to recruit Deidara, who had not, for some reason, the good sense to leave the country in which he was a high priority criminal. The territory was mostly mountainous, of course. With stark contrasts between the windward and leeward sides of each range. And often, at least for this trip, dismally overcast: damp but not rainy and just bitter enough. They were midway up on the windward side of a mountain in the eastern part of the country heading towards the border with Waterfall. They currently camped far away from any sort of town, village, or settlement, intentionally avoiding being seen by anyone. Because they had taken great effort to acquire their quarry and did not want anyone reporting their sighting to Iwa.

“For such an uneasy girl, she sure sleeps well.” Kisame remarked, cutting the silence.

Asaya slept sounder than a dead cow, as far as Kisame was concerned. She lay just to the side of them, huddled into herself in the chill. She held a rather dreamy expression as her head rested on her forearm.

“What do you think she’s wanted for, anyway?” Kisame continued. In the years he had known Itachi, he had picked up the habit of vocalizing his inner thoughts every so often. Because Itachi would not complain, nor did he speak much himself. “Must be for ransom, right? Maybe a bounty? Although, that’d be something I’d think Kakuzu would handle.” He leaned forward. “She keeps bolting, too. Do you think we could tie her up with a rope and lead?”

“She’s incredibly susceptible to genjutsu. It’s not difficult to stop her. She’ll give up, eventually.” Itachi replied. About a day ago she had managed to run all of five kilometers before they caught her. “We are likely just waiting to coordinate our actions with other members. Or for a particular timing. Or just to get out of Earth Country. Zetsu should be on his way.” He was not upset, but it was, admittedly, annoying to not know.

“Tch,” Kisame glared at the girl.

Asaya turned fretfully in her sleep.

Itachi sat cross legged with his arms folded into his sleeves. The temperature was already cold, and combined with the thin air of the altitude, his fingers digits felt perpetually numb. How exactly did she fall- and stay- asleep so easily? It could be some natural resilience built up from living in Iwa, but he swore it was inhuman.

They were not sure of the exact time, but it was late- maybe even bordering on early. Neither of them were well rested. They were kept awake by the climate, terrain, and the need to keep all their eyes on the escape artist. Needless to say, they were both a little irritated. Through a heavy squint Itachi stared at the dying camp fire. Earth Country was a terrible land to traverse: unpredictable weather, the air was only either damp and dirty or dry and dirty, and one functionally traveled at a crawl because vertical distance was not, maddeningly, the same as lateral distance.

There was no civilization to speak of on the route they were ordered to travel out of Earth Country. A long-abandoned road or two and one small settlement in a river valley they passed two days ago. It had consisted only of a farmhouse, a field, and some chickens and sheep. They had not approached the residents, but they did overhear an argument between what they assumed were husband and wife. They were not exactly sure because they did not understand anything that was said. Asaya suggested that the people of this region likely spoke in an isolated dialect, a relic of the period before the region fell under Earth Country’s imperial rule.

This time, Itachi took the opportunity to speak his thoughts. “This is a rather extreme effort to avoid detection. This woman must be important to Iwa.” He would have to question her about it at some point.

“The girl? Maybe, but we’ve also had to keep a low profile since that incident in Konoha. The great villages are onto us- or they at least pretend to be.” Kisame said suggestively. “Besides, if she were anything real special, like a jinchuriki, they’d have told us.”

A rustling noise came up from under the ground just behind the sleeping body of their current mission. Just a tremor of a pebble, but the noticed it immediately. A green sprout emerged, then morphed taller and fuller into the body of their anticipated guest, Zetsu.

“My, I see you are all faring well.” spoke the white half. “Tell me, is this one doing well, too? She looks tasty as a dead cow.” There was a clear, hungry glint in his eye.

Kisame smirked. “Good for this shit place. What are you here for?”

“As you know, our leader wants you to take a specific route out of this country.” The black half spoke first, but the white one finished the thought. “There is a cave system under these mountains. You are to exit the country through the caves using this map.”

“You should be able to make it out and cross into Waterfall in a day or two, if you don’t stop. Then it should be easier to avoid Iwa’s pursuit and you can move more freely.” Zetsu stepped around the sleeping Asaya to approach Kisame and stretched out his hand to offer a crisply folded square of paper.

“I must warn you, if you get lost, you will probably not make it out alive.” White Zetsu said with an alarmingly positive tone. “Farewell, then. May we see you all on the other side!” With his final words, he receded back into the ground.

Kisame passed the folded paper to Itachi, who unfolded it, briefly studied its contents, then tucked it into his pocket. In the distance ahead of them, the stars began to disappear from the brightening sky. “We’ll leave now. The sun will rise soon enough, anyway.” Itachi said as he lifted himself from the ground.

Kisame stood up as well and dusted off his jacket. He walked over to the girl in three strides and kicked her onto her back.

Asaya instantly awoke with a gasp and clutching her stomach. Her eyes fluttered open through the pain to look up at the offender.

Once her eyes firmly fixed on Kisame’s, he barked, “Get up. We’re leaving.”

Eventually, after traveling without a proper road, climbing up and down boulders, and navigating jagged inclines, the three came to the edge of a cliff overlooking a deep ravine and traveled eastward along the ledge. The two Akatsuki continually scanned the ground and down the face of the rock formation. Asaya arched a brow, curious and confused by their actions.

Suddenly, Kisame stopped and said, “Hey, Itachi, I think I found it.”

Itachi joined his partner in looking down at a boulder by the edge of the cliff, Asaya following behind him. He looked at the thing his partner gestured to: a half meter boulder with a small, heavily-worn engraving of Iwa’s symbol. He did not know exactly what he was expecting to find, but this must be it.

Tilting her head quizzically, Asaya scrutinized the rock. She could tell just by the way it grew starkly out of the ground like a stalagmite. Yet it was not located in a cave. It was man made. This was a sign that there was something hidden nearby. But neither of these men were from Iwa, so she was surprised they knew to look for it.

“Down over the ledge are some stairs, but I can’t tell how far they go.” Kisame said.

Itachi looked. There was a series of rectangular stone protrusions over the ledge. Clearly an Iwa-made staircase. However, the steps were shallow- barely wide enough for one person. And they looked as if they might crumble underneath their weight. He could not discern how far down the stairs extended, as the deep ravine swallowed the trail in mist and darkness.

“What do you make of this?” Itachi asked Asaya as she joined him in peering over the ledge.

She hesitated for a moment before answering, “I’m not exactly sure, but there is probably a hideaway carved into the face of the cliff some ways down.”

Itachi considered her words. It was risky to head all the way down when they may need to climb back up. And the steps did not look sturdy. Not that they couldn’t simply scale the wall, but any risk needed to be measured. “Then this is probably the entrance we’re looking for. Let’s go.”

With an affirmative nod, Kisame jumped down to the first step. It managed to support his weight, which was promising. Asaya continued to look over the edge. Although she did not know exactly what was down there, she knew that these men knowing to look for it was bad. Iwagakure had not sent forces to this area in a century- since the first great war. This was the sort of thing few would know the existence of, if any. Perhaps the Tsuchikage, the council elders, and the innermost circle at most would have access to the kinds of records that might reveal this location. Chances were that whatever was down there had been abandoned for a reason.

The haunting presence beside her flickered before she could linger. Turning her head, Asaya was met with the burning assault of sharingan. She winced, but otherwise maintained eye contact.

“Go.” Itachi commanded.

Asaya scampered down with Itachi right behind her.

Far down, Kisame came to the end of the stairs and found the entrance to a cave in the face of the cliff. For his impressive height of 6’3”, the distance between the bottom stair and the cave’s ledge was nothing but an extra-large step. Behind him, Asaya, who was a short 5’2”, had to make a small leap. Itachi easily glided down.

“Well, I guess this is it.” Kisame sated. The entrance to the cave was dark, as expected, and just large enough that Kisame could comfortably stand without hunching. “What did the thing Zetsu gave you say?”

Itachi pulled out the map from his cloak’s inner pocket. “It’s a map of the caves. If we get lost, we won’t make it out.”

Asaya knew Itachi had said it more to dissuade her from bolting off than to answer the question. She took offence to the passive remark, but she was also suppressing a sly smirk.

“We’ll need a light, then.” From his cloak, Kisame pulled out a scroll, partially unwrapped it, and summoned a hurricane lantern out of storage. He lit it and led the way in, with Asaya and then Itachi following behind him.

For a long while, the cave was nothing but one long stretch that irregularly curved and swelled. At different points they were each required to duck or slide sideways, often keeping one hand on the wall for stability. When the cave finally opened up, the passageways began to splinter in all different directions. Itachi, having the map, moved to the front to navigate.

Asaya examined the rock formations around them. Whatever this was had definitely started out as a natural cave system, but she could tell by the sharpness of certain walls and tunnels that they had been expanded and modified by human hand. She could also tell by the mineral buildup along the same walls that they were created long ago- centuries, possibly- and had not been maintained.

They came to a fairly large clearing. Numerous formations of stalagmite and stalactite grew around them like weeds. Many of them thick and large enough to form columns made of fiber-like mineral, like giant, stone oyster mushrooms. The moderate light of Kisame’s lantern cast bizarre shadows in the larger area, causing everything to seemingly grow through the darkness and reach out towards them like demonic intestinal epithelium. Asaya suddenly felt more claustrophobic now than in the narrow tunnels.

A scan of the area quickly revealed some man-made structures. Or the remains of them, anyway. A pile of heavily decomposed wood sat near a section of the wall. Each piece was- or had been- a log. The kind that was cut and sanded to a specific dimension so as to build a structure. Perhaps at one time it had been a rest area. Right in front of it stood a large stalagmite, of which the top had been cut off and carved into a shallow basin.

Itachi walked past Kisame and Asaya to inspect the structure and guessed at its previous purpose. From what he could remember of his history lessons, this area never saw major combat. Even by Earth Country standards, the terrain was too steep and treacherous to move troops or supplies through the mountains, even though its proximity to the border would have made it a desirable supply route. Actually, one of the major victories of Iwa in the First Great War was the swift destruction of three Waterfall cities just over the border. Iwa managed to launch multiple major assaults seemingly out of nowhere. This long-abandoned cave system must have been how Iwa smuggled soldiers and supplies to the other side completely undetected.

“Kagami, come here.” Itachi said.

Asaya joined Itachi to inspect the human-altered stalagmite. A series of symbols had been carved around the rim of the basin.

“Do you know how to light it?” He asked.

Running her tongue over her teeth, she weighed the merits of being cooperative. It would be easy to play dumb and just not help them out of spite. On the other hand, the noxious lantern fumes were migraine inducing. “The signs you need to activate it are rabbit, snake, then ox. But I can’t use fire.”

Itachi performed the three signs and activated the lamp effortlessly. A fire burst forth, large enough to illuminate the entire cavern. The heat of the flame refreshingly kissed their cheeks in the cool, stagnant cave air. Asaya was actually a little impressed he immediately succeeded.

“Let’s rest for a while.” Itachi said before finding a flat patch next to a column by the tunnel through which they had entered, sitting down, and resting his back against the stone.

After turning off his lantern, Kisame found his own spot, took his sword from his back to prop it against a column, and sat down to rest as well.

Asaya, feeling awkward as always, decided it was safe for her to do the same. She chose a spot on the wall not too far from the warm stalagmite lamp and crashed. She fell asleep almost instantly.

From the corner of a sharp, tooth-white eye, Kisame peered at her with a mixture of disgust and curiosity. Was she really so unbothered by this situation that she could fall asleep that fast? “Cow.” He grumbled to himself.

Itachi had grown tired. He was not sure exactly how many hours had passed, but the flame he lit earlier now seemed to dully lap at the darkness despite its unchanging brightness. He had passed much of the time by studying the map Zetsu had given him. It only detailed a specific section of a larger map, the only complete route being the one they were instructed to take. Other tunnels webbed across the page, but they only extended so far before dangling off into nothing. Four different symbols- square, diamond, circle, and triangle- appeared on different points, but without a map key he could only guess at their meaning. The spot they were at now had a triangle, so that likely indicated a lamp or rest area. There were two more triangles on route before the exit. The next triangle, however, had a diamond next to it. He could decipher what it meant when they got there.

 His mind quickly drifting off, Itachi called to his partner. “Kisame.”

The shark-man awoke with a shake of his head, a yawn, and a stretch. “My turn?” He asked groggily.

“Yes.” Itachi looked at the sleeping girl. While Kisame would produce the occasional grumble and snore in his sleep, she was completely silent; not a sigh, sniffle, or moan. In fact, she barely moved. It disturbed him the same way a dead horse would.

Kisame watched as his partner quickly drifted off to sleep. He had to admit, the kid deserved a break whenever he could get one.

Had it been hours yet? It felt like it’d been hours. Kisame certainly didn’t feel any better rested. He considered himself an experienced, hardened traveler, but something about this forsaken country wore him thin.

His eyes shifted focus from the sleeping girl to Itachi and back to the girl. He shook his head and then leaned it back on the wall. The girl wasn’t going anywhere. She would have to be suicidally mad to try. Itachi had the only map. And even if she had perfectly memorized the way back- which was doubtful- Itachi guarded the exit. Even in his sleep, she was no match for him.

Kisame closed his eyes. He only meant to close them briefly, but he found his eyelids weighed shut like an iron blanket. “Troublesome…” He muttered before his eyes decided to stay shut.

A pair of feminine lashes fluttered awake. The eyes hidden behind them remained unfocused and glazen before realizing something: sleeping with a rock protruding into one’s solar plexus was uncomfortable.

Asaya shifted herself up and into a cross-legged sitting position. She folded forward and stretched her arms out to her sides. Amazingly, she felt great despite the one rock. Her spine was straight and relaxed, her lungs were open, and her mind was only a little foggy. Her eyes blinked a few more times as they readjusted to the light. The lamp still burned, which was good. She was unsure how long it would last, though.

Her ears shuddered at the sound of Kisame’s snore. She glared at him. Not that Asaya wanted to be classist, but that man was undeniably crass. Uncouth. Barbaric. She sneered as he rested with one leg outstretched and his lantern sitting off to the side, just far enough away that he would not knock it over.

Itachi slept by the tunnel they had entered from. Obviously, he meant to prevent her from heading back down the tunnel. Kisame, though the blue oaf was more skilled than she wanted to admit, was someone she could slip past. But there was no question that she would not get passed Itachi. He had the map, as well, tucked away somewhere in his cloak along with her beads. That made it feel like a psychological power move. As if he dared her to sneak past the sleeping tiger, or, better yet, try and grab its tail.

She scoffed. Did he not consider she might have the tools to navigate a cave without a map? Well, probably not. Not everyone had the finesse of chakra control she did, which felt arrogant to say. But in any case, she was a highly-capable, earth-wielding Iwa kunoichi. She did not need the stupid map. What she actually needed was a light source.

Asaya looked back at the shark man snoring with a lantern just two feet off to the side, then again at Itachi.

“Oh,” she breathed. Idiots.

PART II

A kaleidoscope of shadows and light waivered across craggy cavern walls as Asaya ran and leapt through the caves, quickly but quietly trying to put as much distance between her and her abductors as possible. She had turned the lantern’s flame down as dim as possible to conserve fuel. She had not been going for long, but she may have already put enough ground between them to have successfully escaped. And they would almost certainly die if they did not have another lantern. Unless one of them had some particular skill she was not aware of, which would be ironic.

The last time she had escaped was pure luck. She tried bolting for the hell of it and somehow managed to put some distance between them before Kisame caught her and tackled her to the ground. She remembered the feel of him pressing her face into the gravel before Itachi appeared and quickly knocked her out with a genjutsu. It almost felt merciful that he had spared her from whatever Kisame might have done to her. Almost.

Asaya halted as she came to a four-way split. Panting, she stood by the wall and made the sign for dog with one hand, activated earth chakra, and slammed her fist into the cave wall. A thin wave of her energy rippled through the stone, giving her a sort of picture of the cave’s anatomy. The tunnel to the far right led to something that had been carved by human hand and contained number of structures she could not quite identify. All other paths were empty.

With only one reasonable way to go, Asaya headed down the tunnel to the far right.

Kisame snapped awake. Groaning, he rotated his shoulders to get his blood flowing. When had he fallen asleep? He hadn’t realized. Ah, well…

Itachi still slept by the entrance. Kisame felt bad for falling asleep on the job, but he was also glad to have gotten away with it. And anyway, it wasn’t like the girl had-

The spot where Asaya had been sleeping was empty.

Shit, Kisame cursed while scanning the room. She was nowhere to be found. Where the fuck would she have gone without-

The spot next to him where he had placed his lantern was also empty. “Bitch,” he seethed.

“Hey, Itachi.” Kisame called.

Itachi blinked a number of times as his eyes readjusted to the light. “What is it?” He asked, his voice raspy from having just awoken.

“Itachi, you’re not going to like this, but,” Kisame steeled himself. “The girl is gone.”

Itachi’s black eyes blinked a few more times while he processed the information. “Where did she go?” He asked, dangerously calm.

“I don’t know.” Kisame swallowed.

When Itachi stood up, his eyes seared scarlet red. He walked over to where the girl had been sleeping.

“She also stole my lantern.” Kisame added.

Perfect. Itachi reached into his cloak. The map was still there. At least he and Kisame could still make it out. But what he needed to know was which way Asaya had gone. The obvious choice would have been to try and go back out the way they came in. Going further in without a way to navigate was suicide. But if she had gone back, she would have had to sneak past him, which, even though he was sleeping, he probably would have noticed. Probably.

On the other hand, Asaya was clever. She might have gone further in to hide then planned double back once they had passed her. Itachi scanned the ground for any sign of her movement. Unfortunately, there was not much find in a solid stone cave. No dirt or sand to check for footprints, no snapped twigs or disturbed shrubbery like a forest might have. He stared at the floor just before the tunnel leading further in. Not even an overturned pebble.

Then, like lighthouse beacon through a storm, he saw a wave of chakra pass through the stone beneath his feet. It came from further down the tunnel, radiated out farther for a bit, then receded back from where it originated. So, this was how she planned on escaping. She would navigate by sending out a wave of chakra to assess the terrain and create a mental map. A charka-based variation on echolocation, more or less. He had to admit it was a brilliantly convenient skill for her to have.

Itachi’s eyes narrowed. He pulled the map out of his cloak and unfolded it. Judging by the origin of the chakra wave and the paths detailed by the map, she was heading the same way they were meant to anyway.

A slight smirk tugged at Itachi’s lips. Just as he had not known she was capable of this navigation technique, she did not know his sharingan was capable of visualizing chakra.

“She went further in.” Itachi said to Kisame before grabbing a storage scroll out of his cloak and summoning his own lantern. “She isn’t too far. We can catch her if we hurry.”

Kisame wanted to ask how his partner knew, but he would not dare question Itachi.

After scanning the cave again at the next junction, Asaya slowed from a jog to a walk. She did not want to waste her energy even if she had plenty. And perhaps she was being presumptuous, but the two Akatsuki were unlikely to catch her now. How many possible combinations of turns could she have taken? Asaya ran the calculation through in her mind. Just counting the paths she knew about would be 4 x 2 x 3 = ? So, 4 x 2 = 8, and then 8 x 3 = ?  Ok, so if 8 x 2 is 16, then 16 + 8 is…? She added by counting on her fingers …22, 23, 24. That made at least twenty-four possible combinations of paths she could have taken, so the odds of them following her were less than one in twenty-four. …Right? She thought she was right. Or was she even using the right formula for her calculation?

Well, she thought some more, they did have a map detailing at least one way to exit. There was a good change she was taking the same way out they would. Well, shit. Maybe she should take an alternate route if she could find one? But she did also have to worry about fuel consumption. The lantern was almost full, but if she did run out of light she was as good as dead, and it wasn’t like she knew exactly how much longer she needed it to last. Her chest tightened. Maybe her decision had been too reckless. Maybe she should have just stayed with them until they’d gotten out and tried escaping when the situation wasn’t so dangerous. But, then again…

Asaya’s mind refocused as the tunnel ahead changed. Even with only the dim light of her lantern, she could tell the pathway was about to suddenly open up to another large chamber. When she approached the threshold, she ran her hand along the corner where the tunnel transitioned into the larger chamber. The inside wall was artificially flat and the edge almost cut into her palm.

Raising the lantern just over her head, Asaya could see, however faintly in the low light, that this chamber was constructed entirely by human hand. Her head swiveled up to look around as she walked farther in. The chamber was about twenty meters wide and almost twice as tall. And it was too long to see to the end without more light. Deep, rectangular recesses ran all the way up the walls to the vaulted ceiling, many of them containing large, dry-rotted wood crates. A few more sat scattered on the floor.

Iwa definitely used this cave system for smuggling persons and supplies in a previous war. Or facilitating any number of illegal, criminal, or otherwise illicit activities. It wasn’t like Iwa had the most virtuous track record, even by hidden village standards. Or at all, really.

With her mind preoccupied inspecting the vaulted ceiling, Asaya’s right foot tripped over something, which produced a hollow sound as it skipped a few inches along the stone floor. She looked down at her feet to see a collection of long, nearly-white objects.

Bones.

Asaya involuntarily inhaled to produce a sharp, airy note that echoed through the cave.

Itachi had been able to track Asaya through two junctions by cross referencing the origin of her chakra wave and the map. Now, he and Kisame waited at a third junction. From this point, there were two paths that lead out: the second from the left and the far right. The second left being the more direct route. So far, she had taken the same route detailed on his map. Itachi bet that she had taken one of the two correct tunnels, but which? Without a signal he couldn’t be sure.

That being said, they couldn’t wait forever. If he did not see anything soon, he would head down the tunnel second from the left. Not just because she likely would have chosen the more direct route given her pattern of behavior, but also because, categorically speaking, retrieving her- saving her life, even- was not worth his own. Tracking her down her on their way out would be ideal. Taking the faster route and intercepting her at or near the exit also worked. Searching every path because they might find her was foolish.

A sound rang from the far-right tunnel and Itachi angled his head as it touched his eardrums. Something akin to a mouse’s squeak; high-pitched but soft and short. Did he just hear that? Judging by Kisame’s similar reaction, he did.

Itachi sprinted down the far-right tunnel with Kisame close behind.

Asaya’s wide eyes stared at the skeleton by her feet with a mixture of fear, revulsion, and macabre-yet-scholarly fascination. Her hand covered the mouth which had involuntarily gasped. Kneeling down, she examined the skeleton. She could identify it as male by its prominent brow. Mummified hair delicately clung to the skull, but all other tissue had decomposed long ago. The skeleton wore an extremely old uniform of plated armor and coarse, loom-woven fabric, which, naturally, had been permanently stained by the putrid fluids of the once-rotting corpse. Her expression tightened. This shinobi was from the first war. At least.

Just a few meters from the first skeleton lay several others lined up against the wall. And even more were stuffed into the recesses carved into the walls. Suddenly, the wooden crates made sense.

“Catacombs.” She whispered, eyes shifting erratically between every recess- tomb- in the wall, each one an orbital cavity scowling down at her as if to question how her heart dared beat.

Asaya turned and walked backwards for a few steps. So, this is what was hidden down here: the countless remains of dead shinobi from the First Great War. And for all she knew, many of the skeletons could be even older.

She was speechless; both astounded and horrified at the same time. This had to be the shinobi archaeological discovery of the decade! Too many questions flooded her head to fully articulate each one. What might this collection of ancient weapons, armor, and other objects reveal about shinobi history? In what activities had Iwa been involved that necessitated a catacomb hidden all the way out here? And, most glaringly, how did these two criminals know about this location? Where did they get their information from?

Something even more terrifying caught her eye: a tiny, feint light flickering down the tunnel from which she came. Asaya did not want to believe it, but she knew what she saw. “No…” The word escaped her as broken and cold as her breath.

They had followed her. Panic squeezed at her throat. Damnit, she knew she should have taken a wrong turn on purpose. She had to hide; there was no way to outrun them in here. And they had probably seen her lantern just as she had seen theirs.

She searched the walls as she ran farther into the chamber. About midway down by the left-hand wall she found a particularly large and well-preserved crate. She hurried over to it and lifted the lid.  She was not surprised to find another skeleton, but her stomach wretched all the same. Paper-thin, wrinkled skin stretched over its discolored, sunken face. Gross, she winced as she turned off her lantern, placed it inside, and then climbed in herself.

The silence was agonizing.

She stilled her breathing and concealed her chakra as best she could, but particulates of dust stirred in the air, coated her throat and left a dry, foul taste in her mouth. She tried as hard not to think of the two men chasing her as she did the skull grotesquely resting inches from her own. Her mind could distract itself from neither and instead oscillated between both nightmares. Neither of the two were sensor types, so maybe, just maybe they would overlook her.

When the dim light in the tunnel ahead disappeared, Itachi knew Asaya had seen them coming and found someplace to hide.

As Itachi stepped into the catacombs, he slowed to a walk- a leisurely stroll, almost. She was close. No need to rush. He could not deny he was struck by a certain level of morbid fascination as he scanned every recess of the cavern. Regrettably, though, he was not an archaeologist.

About mid-way down the chamber, he spotted her hiding in a crate to his left. He made no attempt to conceal his presence as he approached it with loud, deliberate footsteps. He firmly ground each heel down onto the cave sediment and pebbles to produce an audible, sandpaper-like crunch. Her chakra quavered just a bit as he did so.

Itachi slowly pried the wooden lid back to reveal Asaya laying on her back with her body twisted around a partially-mummified, armored skeleton. He found her resolve strangely impressive, in some way, to hide with a corpse like this.

Asaya stared up into his sharingan, chest heaving and petrified, as her eyes squinted to adjust to the lantern he held above her. One small hand rose to shield her face, palm outward as if trying to push away the light. Itachi could almost see her molars grind together as she waited for him to make a move: to reach in, to grab her, to speak, to shout, to do something, anything.

Itachi pulled the lid closed and covered her again in darkness.

Asaya watched, confused and scared, as Itachi simply closed the lid. Reaching up to press on the wood, she found it did not budge. She pressed harder. Nothing. She slammed her fist against it. Still nothing. “What- What are you doing?” Asaya shouted back at him.

“You shouldn’t have tried to run.” Itachi’s voice spoke from obscurity.

She angrily kicked and thrashed about in the crate, trying to break it open or rock it over. “Stop it! Let me out!” She demanded.

Asaya fell silent as skeletal fingers curled around her arms and throat. “No! Stop it! Stop!” The fingers squeezed tightly around her neck, stifling her cries. Blindly clawing at the bones choking her, she could feel the skull leering at her, its teeth grinding and chattering next to her ear. Her nails split and snapped as she tried to pull the bones away, but all her efforts were in vain.

Asaya screamed one final, suffocating wail with the last of her stale air: “Let me out, please! Please!”

Her lungs seized and convulsed, forcibly trying to inhale anything they could get. Not one shred of oxygen slipped in. Her fingers and toes began to tingle numbly first. Then up her legs and arms, eventually stealing her ability to kick and claw. She did not realize when she lost consciousness. Everything was already black.

Itachi reached into the crate and pulled Asaya out after she lost consciousness. Her limp body did nothing to help or hinder him. He quickly realized that while her chakra was still flowing, she was not breathing. He laid her out on the ground and placed his thumb to her neck. There was only a dangerously slow pulse. This was an uncommon side effect of using higher-level genjutsu on individuals who were highly susceptible: the victim’s mind would behave as if they actually had died and consequently stop even basic involuntary functions. Under normal circumstances, Itachi would have let her die. But luckily for her, she was not a normal circumstance. The Akatsuki wanted her alive and unharmed. Mostly unharmed, anyway.

Her chakra signature started to fade. He needed to act fast. Unfortunately, proper healing techniques were not something he had ever had the chance to learn, so his rudimentary tricks would have to suffice. Raising his right fist and concentrating some chakra into it, he slammed it down in her chest in an attempt to shock her system into starting again.

No response.

Itachi tried again.

Asaya’s spine violently arched as she inhaled and coughed. He could see her chakra return to normal as she began to wheeze softly but still remained unconscious. A cool relief swept across his brow and he let go of the breath he did not realize he was holding. He would have to take care not to repeat this mistake with her.

Itachi picked Asaya up from the ground and turned towards his partner standing a few meters away. “Kisame.” Itachi called.

Kisame approached.

“Take her.” Itachi instructed.

Kisame took the unconscious girl and slung her over his shoulder like a dead cow.

Itachi said nothing as he calmly turned away. He had to admit he felt better now that this episode was over.

Asaya had lost all sense of time. How long had she been traveling with the two Akatsuki? A couple weeks, maybe? They had crossed the border from Earth Country into Waterfall, and from there had traveled on foot through a few smaller nations into Lightning, and then taken a boat to where they were now, Water Country. Basically, they had traveled all the way across the known world. When they first captured her, it had been early winter. If it had only been a few weeks, then it was still winter. However, the hugely varying climate between landscapes and latitudes meant that it didn’t always feel like winter. Not the winter she was used to in Iwa, at least. Nonetheless, the individuality of each day had disappeared. The only way she knew the date was occasions like now when they stopped by someplace with a calendar.

Asaya and Kisame sat on a bench at a traveler’s refreshment stop somewhere in Water Country. She had come to appreciate Kisame’s monolithic silence, in a way, because he did not make for pleasant conversation, so to speak.

Itachi was off doing something somewhere. An assassination of some sort, as Asaya recalled. Maybe she should have paid closer attention to what they were doing, but she really just didn’t care. Point being that Kisame had once again been tasked with watching her while Itachi worked solo.

A young woman of about sixteen years came out of the traveler’s stop carrying a small tray with a cup of tea and some small cookies. Asaya politely thanked her for the tea and snacks she had ordered earlier, then took a moment to admire the young woman’s clothes as she turned and walked back inside. She had worn a plain, light blue kimono with a yellow obi and a white apron embroidered with purple irises. It was only a uniform, Asaya was sure, but it still made her feel uncomfortably self-conscious in comparison. She envied the young woman’s neat, feminine appearance.

Asaya was wearing some spare clothes that Itachi had given her a while back to replace the formal kimono she had been wearing when they first abducted her. Just a dark, muted blue shirt and pants that did not quite fit. The legs were too long and the boxy shirt did nothing for her figure. Asaya made do, though, by rolling up the hems of her pants so they did not trail on the ground and tying a thin, white sash around her waist. At least that way she had one.

As she savored the sensation of a buttery cookie melting in her mouth, Asaya noticed Kisame giving her a critical stare. She chewed slowly with satisfaction. Itachi had said she could order something if she got hungry, so she did.

Long after Asaya had finished her tea and cookies, Kisame stood up, grabbed Samehada from where it rested against the bench, and hoisted in onto his back. Asaya turned her head to see Itachi coming up the road, and the sun turned orange as it began to sink behind him.

Without stopping, Itachi walked past them and said, “Let’s go.

Just after nightfall, they arrived at a port town. It was small, just a place to give ships temporary respite on their journey somewhere else, but it was lively and well kept. A few nice restaurants, bars, and shops lined the main street. Since the port had closed by this time in the evening, they spent the night at an inn.

“I’ll be back in an hour or two.” Itachi said before heading out and again leaving Asaya with Kisame as a babysitter.

She wished Itachi wouldn’t do that so often. She did not like being alone with Kisame.

Asaya tucked herself into bed and went to sleep.

“Where’d you go?” Kisame asked when Itachi returned.

Itachi held up a shopping bag, walked over to the small table, and set it down. “She needed new clothes. Ones that don’t attract so much attention.”

“Because we don’t already?”

“You know what I mean.” Itachi said with a note of finality.

Kisame chuckled. “Sure. You know, I’ve been wondering, what do you think she’s wanted for?” He glanced at the sleeping girl. “Must be valuable to someone.”

“I suspect,” Itachi began, also checking to make sure she was asleep, “that she is valuable to us- to the Akatsuki. I’m just not sure how.”

Kisame scoffed. “Really?”

“It’s just a suspicion.” Itachi reiterated. “The whole situation is unusual.” He took a seat in a wooden chair beside the table.

“She seems pretty useless. She’s nearly getting herself killed half the time.”

You did fight her yourself. Itachi thought dryly. “She is stronger than she’s pretending.” In any case, he still needed to question her.

Asaya rubbed her eyes as a sunbeam cut through the curtains. She sat up and yawned, stretching her arms over her head and then slowly lowering them to her side.

“I see you’re awake. You just missed breakfast.” Itachi called to her.

Of course, she did. She always did.

Itachi gestured to a bag sitting on the table. “For you.”

She eyed him skeptically.

He gave a slight nod towards the bag to encourage her.

Asaya hesitantly approached, then opened it wide. She rummaged around to inspect each item: a grey tank top, black leggings, a plum sweat jacket, and…. a sports bra and underwear. How considerate. Hopefully they fit.

Itachi watched her eyes widen and a small blush bloom on her cheeks.

“Thanks,” she said, stupefied by the thought of him shopping for women’s underwear.

“Just get dressed.”

At the entrance to the docks, a large chalkboard displayed the arrival and departure schedule of each ship. Every block was filled. Of the many destinations written, Asaya wondered which one they were going to. The two Akatsuki always knew where they were going, even though she almost never heard them converse about their travel plans. They probably discussed them- and many other topics- while she was sleeping to prevent her from knowing too much.

Itachi scanned the board. “Our ship is leaving in fifteen minutes.” He turned and they followed.

The sailor- Asaya assumed he was a sailor, but maybe “boatman” or “dock worker” would have been more accurate- at the ferry gate was a gruff, middle-aged man wearing a clean but patched uniform. He held a lit cigarette in one hand.

“Passage for three to Umishi.” Itachi said.

The sailor looked at them, bemused. They were an odd group, after all. “Sorry, but there’s only room for two. You’ll have to wait for tomorrow.” He took a lazy drag of his cigarette.

Kisame spoke. “You go on ahead. I’ll catch up with you and the others at the rendezvous location.”

Itachi nodded in understanding before Kisame turned and walked off. Itachi paid the fare and he and Asaya boarded.

The sea sparkled, beautifully glittering dazzlingly as the bright sun joyfully danced upon its waves.

The ship was ugly. The grain of the wood was splintered and cracked. The deck was slimy and she could often hear her shoes peel off the floor as she walked. The entire crew was made of burly men wearing clothing stained with sweat and who knew what else.

However, the worst part, by far, was the cargo: fish. Fish were the most disgusting, foul creatures in the animal kingdom: their dead mouths gaped open; their glassy, flat eyes never closed; and their scales perspired an oily sheen as they baked in the sun, spreading their repugnant odor.

Asaya could not stop fidgeting with the cuffs of her new, plum sweat jacket.

This did not go unnoticed by Itachi. “Something bothering you?”

“I hate fish. And boats. And I think I might hate the ocean, too.” Asaya confessed in a tense murmur.

Earth Country was only bordered by the ocean for a relatively small stretch of its northern border. It also had a few great lakes, but generally speking it wasn’t known for its aquatic features. Itachi thought this might be an entirely foreign experience for her. “Does this upset you?”

“I’m just not fond of water.” she replied.

Itachi guessed there was more to the story, but he wouldn’t ask.

“May I ask you something?”

Itachi turned his ears towards her, detecting an interesting lilt in her voice.

Taking it as a sign of approval, Asaya asked, “If Hoshigaki is so shark-like, why doesn’t he just swim across instead of waiting for the next ferry?”

“That is the plan.” Itachi said flatly, but he was amused by her sardonic phrasing. She did not often let her inner thoughts slip.

“Oh, I see.” Asaya felt stupid for asking. She hated that she must constantly appear naïve to him. She went back to playing with her sleeves. She really ought to properly thank him for the new clothes, but something held her tongue.

Itachi realized that if she had spent her whole life in Iwa, she probably didn’t have much experience with water. “Have you ever sailed before?”

Asaya shook her head. “Yes, but not like this. I’ve crossed rivers and lakes, but I’d not seen the ocean before.”

“Can you swim?” Itachi asked, more on impulse than anything else.

Asaya’s delicate eyebrow twitched, insulted by his automatic assumption that she was incapable. “Of course, I can swim.” Her words were quiet, but sharp.

Itachi silently tapped his finger on his knee a few times and turned his head to look off into the distance.

Asaya lifted her head to match Itachi’s gaze across the horizon. Dark clouds loomed in the distance and a heavy breeze flew past them towards their destination.

By the time they reached the harbor, heavy rain poured down in droplets the size of coins, angrily spurred on by trashing gusts of wind. A tropical storm, possibly a hurricane, moved in fast. The sailors aggressively shouted at each other as they ran around like crazed ants trying to secure the boat to the dock and unload cargo as it jerked amidst the waves.

Itachi and Asaya ran off the boat, up the street, and into the nearest hotel. By the time they reached the canopied entrance, they were soaked. Itachi took off his cloak and Asaya wrung her hair before stepping inside.

The interior of the hotel was surprisingly attractive: the check-in desk was carved of dark oak, brass light fixtures were mounted on the ceiling and walls, and an ornate array of glass bottles was displayed behind the bar opposite the entrance. Behind the counter, a sign reading “Ogakuzu,” presumably the name of the establishment, hung on the wall. This was probably the nicest place they had stayed at thus far.

“Welcome, what can I do for you?” A gentleman behind the counter asked.

“We need one room with two beds for the night.” Itachi said.

“Yes, sir. Just check in here.” The man handed Itachi a check-in form and a pen, which Itachi used to sign them in with false identities. Then, the man selected a key from the rack behind him and handed it to Itachi. “You’ll be in room 237. It appears quite the storm is coming in, so the power may fail. Our apologies in advance for any inconvenience. Please let us know if you need anything.”

Room 237 had soft pillows, soft sheets, and soft chairs. And a nice washroom. Everything Asaya wanted in a hotel room. Although, a large recreation of Hokusai’s Great Wave hung clichély on the wall over the twin beds. She must have seen a copy in nearly every establishment in Water Country. There must be a national mandate, she thought.

Itachi hung his black and red cloak on the rack by the door and walked over to the window. Torrential rain obscured his view of the other side of the street while relentless wind flung sizeable bits of debris. An errant branch smacked into the window just in front of his face before flying off again. This displeased Itachi, because now they were behind schedule by at least a day. Kisame would probably continue through the storm uninterrupted, but he was a brawny shark man. Itachi turned to look back at Asaya, who now sat on the farther of the two beds. He never let her sleep on the bed closest to the window.

Asaya mindlessly braided a lock of her hair in heavy silence. She would have just gone to bed, but it was too early in the evening, unless she wanted to wake up at 2am just to be tired for the rest of the next day. She unwound her braid as soon as she finished.

At first, she could deal with the silence. She could find little ways to occupy or entertain herself, often examining the ever-changing scenery while retreating into a daydream or internal dialogue. Now, though, her ability to do so wore thin. She felt herself becoming increasingly agitated by the lack of stimulation.

Itachi experienced frustration, as well, but he was frustrated by the level of focus he needed to maintain because of her, always needing to watch what he said, never able to relax. She was just constantly there. He pondered what to do with her. For the time being, though, they were stuck here in the storm.

He realized that now was the perfect time to interrogate her like he had been meaning to. “Who are you, exactly, to Iwa?”

Asaya met his eyes as a bolt lightning flashed across his face, followed immediately by a crack of thunder. “I’m nobody. Who are you?” She answered automatically. She really was agitated. Normally, she wouldn’t have made such a quip so readily.

“I have no patience for-” the reference dawned on him. “Clever.” He wasn’t actually amused. “Answer the question.”

“I’m not sure how. I have no rank, I have no status, and I have no connections. I’m no one to Iwa. Just kunoichi like any other.”

“You must have some idea why you were kidnaped?” he cut to the chase.

“I can only conclude that your organization was mistaken; that they think I’m someone I am not.” Asaya looked him dead in the eye as she spoke.

Itachi wasn’t satisfied. There was a chance, however small, that she was right, but he was not foolish enough to take her word for it. “You’re a jonin, correct?”

“Yes,” she answered. Itachi was the most discreetly threatening person Asaya had ever encountered. She was lucky that he hadn’t chosen to question her sooner, but now she would have to play her cards carefully.

“Who never travels far from the village? Who had never seen a city other than the capitol? Why is that?”

“I work in torture and interrogation. I don’t need to leave for that.” She remembered the lie she had previously told him.

“That was a lie when you told it to me in Sapporo, and it’s still a lie now, Kagami.” Itachi’s voice glinted like the thin edge of a knife.

Asaya bit her cheek. Maybe she could get away with half a lie. “I’m a bodyguard for one of the Tsuchikage’s grandsons. He never leaves, so consequently, neither do I.” Mentioning her ties to the Tsuchikage’s family was a gamble, but she felt it was better than him knowing what she suspected was the real reason: that she specialized in fuinjutsu, or seals and barriers. A rare skill for which the value hinged upon keeping information about its methods and processes secret and exclusive. And it wasn’t like she knew that many dirty secrets about the Tsuchikage and his family either, at least not the kinds one could blackmail them with. And they were certainly not going to pay a ransom for her, regardless. “Join is a nominal rank.”

“I’ve seen what you can do. I don’t believe that.”

Asaya didn’t want to admit that a part of her was flattered. “In any case,” she deflected, “I spend half my day watching the Tsuchikage’s grandson, and the other half I process and archive mission records at headquarters.” Another half-truth she added quickly.

So, she had ties to the Tsuchikage’s family. That might be something, Itachi thought. “How did you end up in the service of the Tsuchikage’s family?”

“They needed the position filled and I was available. I’d only recently been promoted at the time. The family wanted a jonin for appearances sake, but headquarters didn’t want to assign someone experienced because it would be a waste, so they assigned me. I’m a glorified babysitter.”

“Seems like a waste anyway.” Itachi said.

“Depends who you ask, I guess.” Asaya shrugged. “I’m also a woman.”

“I see.” Itachi understood Iwa had a particular reputation. “Do you protect him from any specific threat?”

“No, not to my knowledge.” Asaya said.

“What’s his name and how old is he?”

“Sanmyaku Tsuta. Thirteen- no, fourteen.”

“Seems a little old to need a babysitter,” Itachi remarked.

“He’s prone to causing trouble. That’s the real reason I watch him.”

Itachi watched as a warm smile crept onto her face, as if she were remembering something amusing. She had relaxed a bit, lowered her guard. Good. “Are you close to him?”

“Yes. Admittedly, I’m rather fond of him.” Asaya was fairly comfortable answering because Itachi did not know he would gain nothing from this line of questioning.

“Are you familiar with the rest of the family?”

“Somewhat. I’ve met most of the family at this point. They extend invitations to events, sometimes, to be polite, but I would consider my relationship with them a professional one.” True, but she did know a couple of Tsuta’s cousins a little better than that.

“And what about your family? Who are they?” Itachi noticed she had rather formal mannerisms. She had either picked them up while being in the Tsuchikage’s family’s service or had been raised aristocratically.

“My parents both died in the Third Great War. I grew up an orphan.” She said plainly, like she had explained it a thousand times.

So, it was the former then. Itachi sighed and turned to look back out the window. The storm was only getting worse. The wind whistled and howled as the rain rebelliously crashed against the windowpane.

Asaya studied him as he gazed back out the window. Another flash of lightning danced across his face, momentarily creating a captivating composition of light and dark over his form. He always had such a pensive air about him. His arms crossed over his chest and his weight shifted onto one leg in dramatic contrapposto.  She found herself transfixed by his collarbone peeking out from under his shirt.

Asaya’s body tensed. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks. Now uncomfortable, she began picking her nails. “Hoshigaki mentioned that we will be meeting ‘others.’ Who are they?”

“Two other members of our organization.” Itachi intentionally withheld their exact identities; he didn’t know how she would react to meeting an Iwa defector. Before she could ask another question, he said, “You may go and eat dinner, if you wish.” They were stuck here and he was done with her for the moment. They might as well take a break from each other.

Asaya got the distinct impression that he wasn’t really giving her an option, but she was glad to take it anyway. She looked mildly surprised, but she got up, slipped her shoes on, and closed the door behind her.

Itachi took a deep breath in relief as soon as she left. He combed his fingers through his bangs as he stepped towards the washroom. He felt the need for a hot bath.

Asaya couldn’t have been more relieved when she walked into the dining area downstairs. It was a small blessing.

Only a handful of other guests sat at the white-clothed dining tables. Three people, all fishermen, sat at the bar, two of them older men drinking sake, and the third man was a couple decades younger and drank what looked like beer. The three had likely just come in to escape the storm.

A pair of women sat across each other at a table sharing a plate of oyster shells.  They were well dressed, too well dressed for a dinner in a storm, with their hair pinned up in classy chignons with loose, curled strands framing their faces. Delicate jewelry sparkled on their wrists and about their necks. A candle burned between them as they learned in towards each other while intimately chatting. Asaya thought they must have a shared room upstairs.

Everyone, including the entire staff, seemed surprisingly calm for the magnitude of storm outside, but maybe this was just normal here in Water Country.

Asaya took a seat at a small, two-person table not too far from a window, close enough to see the storm but not close enough to be injured should stray debris shattered the glass. As soon as she did, a bright flash of light filled the while room along with an earsplitting thunderclap and explosion. The lights flickered once and went dark.

Unhappy groans uniformly leapt from the mouths of everyone in the room. The staff pulled out old-fashioned oil lamps to temporarily replace the modern lightbulbs.

“Apologies for the inconvenience, miss.” A waiter said as he placed a lamp on the table and lit it with a match. “Can I get you anything this evening?” He pulled out a notepad and pencil.

“Some tea, please, if there’s still a way to heat the water.”

“Of course. What kind would you like?”

“Just plain black tea.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back momentarily.”

Asaya gave an appreciative smile and the waiter walked back to the kitchen, then turned to look back out the window at the storm. She couldn’t help but compare it to storms in Iwa. Her village commonly experienced torrential downpours and thunderstorms caused by warm air currents rapidly rising up the mountainside, but it was nothing like this. She rested her chin on her knuckles while contemplating the flashes of white-hot light for a few moments before the waiter came back with her tea.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” the waiter said as he placed the porcelain teacup and saucer before her, “the man you came here with- you’re his sister, right?”

Actually, I’m his escort. Would you like my business card? Asaya thought. “Yeah,” she said. It was just easier to go with his assumption.

“Interesting. You know, that’s funny, because you don’t look that much alike. Can I ask your name?”

Asaya did not like this waiter. “Yukimura Tomoyo.”

“Now, that’s real interesting, because a girl like you looks like she oughta have a name like ‘Kagami Asaya.’” he said, completely nonchalant.

Asaya’s eyes narrowed and her mouth tightened. “Who are you?”

He chuckled. “Relax, I’m not a bad guy, I swear.”

He must have been a handful of years older than her, with short-clipped, dark brown hair and heavy-lidded eyes. She could tell by the texture of his cheeks that he would have a full beard if he didn’t shave regularly. “My name is Densho.” He spoke barely above a whisper. “For now, anyway. And your name is Asaya, right?”

Asaya said nothing.

The man called Densho continued, “Ok, ok, I get it. I’m from Iwa, too. Undercover, so don’t tell anyone. Don’t believe me? I wouldn’t either.” He winked. “A while back an alert went out to be on the lookout for a girl who went missing from Rengeoin Temple. Reportedly last seen way up north in Sapporo in the company of two men wearing black and red cloaks. High priority but also kind of hush-hush. So, what are you doing all the way out here in Water Country?”

Asaya’s instincts told her she shouldn’t trust a total stranger claiming to be an Iwa shinobi, even if he had all that information. Asaya instincts also told her that, given her particular situation, fuck it, it didn’t really matter if he wasn’t who he was claiming to be. “I was abducted by the man I came in with- his name is Uchiha Itachi- and his companion, Hoshigaki Kisame. They’re part of a criminal organization called Akatsuki. I’m not exactly sure why they abducted me, but we’re supposed to meet up with two other Akatsuki members soon. I don’t know their identities or why.”

Densho blinked. “What?”

“I was abducted by the man I came in with- his name is-”

“No, I get it, I just wasn’t expecting all of that.” He closed his jaw. “My captain’s gonna flip when I tell him this.”

Asaya indifferently rested her chin in her palm.

“Those two are in every Bingo book. They’re both listed S-class. Akatsuki’s on a need-to-know basis. Explains all the hush-hush, though.” Densho said.

Shrugging, Asaya had to confess that she never read Bingo books. It wasn’t relevant to her position, so she didn’t see the point in wasting her precious brain space on it.

“Oi! Densho.” A man shouted from behind the bar.

“Sorry, gotta go. I‘ll check in later.”

As he turned, Asaya quickly said, “Wait, could I please ask you for a pen and paper?”

He pulled a spare pen from his pocket and tore a few sheets of paper from his spiral notepad and handed them to her. “This ok?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He winked then hurried back to the kitchen.

Asaya clicked the pen and quickly wrote two letters. The first was an account of her situation and relevant information meant for Iwa intelligence. The second was addressed to a friend.

Dear Tsuta,

I am alive. I have been abducted by two members of a criminal organization called Akatsuki. Their names are Uchiha Itachi and Hoshigaki Kisame. Neither they nor I know exactly why yet.

Happy belated birthday! I will take you out for coffee and cake when I get back.

Love,

Asaya

P.S. You know nothing.

When she finished, she folded the letters, addressed them, and added small seals to prevent anyone unwanted from reading them.

A few moments of silently listening to the storm passed before Densho returned with a teapot to refill her cup. “Look,” he said, “I know the situation’s not ideal, but I think I can sneak you out if-”

“No.” Asaya shook her head. “He’s far too strong. Here,” she slid the two letters across the table, “take these and send them to Iwa.”

His brow knit together. “You sure?” He was surprised she’d turn him down.

“Trust me, I’ve tried. It’s not worth it.” She didn’t want anyone getting hurt on her behalf.

Sighing, Densho slipped the letters into his pocket. “Alright, but be careful, yeah? I’ll get these sent right away.”

“Thanks.” She said with an honest smile.

“No problem. Just take care, ok? If you need anything else for the time being, just let me know.” He turned and left.

Asaya drank her tea and looked back out the window, and the thunder cackled at her.

Itachi used his time alone for a hot bath, which was interesting because the lights flickered out soon after he filled the tub. He should have known it would happen, but he was able to make do in the dark. He walked into the main room wearing only his pants and clutching a towel in his hand. Taking a seat at the table, he used the towel to dry his loose hair. After removing as much moisture as he could, he combed his fingers through it and once again tied it into a low ponytail in a red band.

He stared at the door while tapping his long fingers on the table. He supposed Asaya would have finished eating dinner by now, assuming she had eaten. Itachi found her a bit peculiar; sometimes she’d be the first to finish her plate and sometimes she’d only sip tea or nibble a few vegetables.

He sighed and stood up. It had been nice to have a break and be alone for a moment.

The storm showed no sign of letting up, but by now Asaya had adjusted to it, enjoyed it, even. The sun had long since set, leaving an opaque blackness to press itself against the windowpane. Deafening rain decanted from the sky in volumes she could only guess at. Lightning would flash and illuminate the street outside for a moment before it was chased away by a crack of thunder. She held the porcelain teacup in her lap, the heat radiating through her hands and warming her whole body.

Densho came back with a teapot to refill her cup. “You really like tea, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Asaya said shyly. You have no idea.

“Quite the storm, huh? Nothing like it back home.”

“Is this common?”

“Yeah. Tropical storms happen all the time here. But this one’s not so bad they’ve called for an evacuation. The people here are so used to them they just carry on, kind of like how it is with earthquakes back home. They even have a backup generator for the kitchen, if you were wondering” Densho suddenly looked up and to the side, towards the stairs leading up to the guest rooms. “Your man is here.” he told her.

Asaya turned her head to look back over her shoulder. Itachi stood at the bottom of the stairs to silently collect her. “Sorry, but I have to go. Thank you for your help. It was lovely meeting you.” She was a little disappointed she had to go. It had been refreshing to talk to someone else from Iwa- someone normal.

“Mutual. Best of luck, yeah.”

Anxiety slithered into her gut as she followed Itachi back up the stairs to their hotel room. The only source of light was a large, 3-wick candle burning ominously on the center of the table. It wasn’t much, but her eyes adjusted to see well enough.

Asaya plopped down on one of the twin beds. She wanted to take a shower or bath before bed, but with the lights still out she couldn’t. Well, maybe she could have just left the door open, but that wasn’t an appealing option for obvious reasons. She’d have to take one in the morning. In any case, she tucked herself under the blanket. Soon after, Itachi blew out the candle and then she heard the other bed rustle and creak.

“Thanks for letting me downstairs for tea.” she suddenly blurted while staring up at the ceiling.

Itachi could have just said ‘You’re welcome. Good night.’ and left it at that, but instead he said, “What?”

“I could have run away.” She didn’t know why she opened her mouth in the first place, but it was too late to close it now.

Itachi thought long and hard about how to respond to her. He didn’t quite know why she brought it up. A particularly bright burst of lightning filled the room. In truth, he was not comfortable with her expression of gratitude. “If you try to run away, I will stop you. If you try to get struck by lightning, be my guest.”

After a moment of silence, he thought he heard her snickering softly before rolling over and pulling the covers over her head.

A pair of dark lashes fluttered open to the clear, mid-morning sunlight. The storm had passed, leaving only soggy ground and a cool, damp smell in the air. Itachi sat up, rubbed is eyes, and glanced at the clock on the wall. It read 8:04, only a bit later than he had wanted to wake up.

Across the room on the other twin bed, Asaya slept while curled up in the comforter and hugging her pillow. Her hair draped wildly across the sheets while she dreamily nestled her cheek into the pillow. It almost irritated him, how well she slept.

He got out of bed and quickly dressed. Then, he approached the sleeping Asaya. “Wake up.” he said.

“Mmnh…” she moaned and buried her face into the pillow.

He grabbed her shoulder and shook her. “Wake up,” he said again, firmly.

Asaya rolled onto her back and stared up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes before realizing he was standing over her. “Morning,” she said while sitting up.

“Morning. Take a shower and get dressed, we’re leaving.”

She rolled off the other side of the bed and drug herself into the bathroom. He heard water gush from the faucet as she filled the tub.

It would be a while before she finished. He couldn’t hold it against her; they didn’t stay in a hotel or inn every night. And he supposed bathing was something women liked, anyway. He’d let her enjoy herself while he paid the bill at the front desk. He closed the door behind him with a soft click and walked down the hall, but just before reaching the stairs, Itachi overheard two staff having an interesting conversation around the corner and stopped.

“…did you see Densho talking to that girl last night? The short one that was sitting by herself drinking tea.” one said.

“Yeah, looks like they hit it off. She looked a little young for him, though.” A second answered.

“Didn’t seem to be a problem. She wrote him a note, too. She must’ve given him her info, or something.”

“Damn, I wish I was that good with the ladies. I’ll have to ask him about it when he gets in.”

“Have you seen him? I thought he stayed overnight like the rest of us.” The first one asked.

“Nope, he went out really early this morning to run an errand or something. He headed off towards the east side of town as soon as the storm broke. He should be back soon, though.”

Itachi swiftly descended the stairs and exited the hotel.

The tub was luxurious, wide and long enough that she could fully stretch out her legs while she reclined. Hot bathwater melted every one of Asaya’s knotted muscles as her blood flowed freely through her veins. She didn’t mind the lightheadedness the steam gave her, she enjoyed it, really.

She wondered how long she could stay before Itachi knocked on the door. Bathing was the one opportunity she had for privacy. She lifted one leg and draped it over the edge of the tub, the contrasting sensations of the hot water and the cool air somehow pleasurable. She swirled her fingers on the surface of the water a few times before submerging her hand.

Itachi scanned the streets from the rooftops, looking for the waiter he saw with Asaya last night. Before long, noticeably heavy footsteps appeared behind him.

“Looking for me? The name’s Densho, by the way.” The man in question stood fifteen meters away on the roof.

Itachi took two steps towards him, red sharingan activated. “Last night, you were given a note from the girl traveling with me. What did you do with it?”

“Now, why would I tell you that? It could be something personal.” Densho swiftly pulled two shuriken from his back pocket and threw them at Itachi.

Itachi simply jumped to the left, weaved a few signs, then exhaled a fireball.

Stunned by how quickly Itachi had weaved signs for an attack, Densho was only able to weave his own just in time to throw up an earth wall to protect himself. The earth shield cracked under the extreme heat of the flame, but it held. When the flames subsided, however, he realized that he had lost track of Itachi, only to feel his feet kicked out from underneath him. Thinking quickly, Densho rolled as soon as he hit the roof, then flipped backwards a few times to put distance between them. He now stood at a corner of the roof and readied himself for his next move.

“You must be an Iwa shinobi like her, I take it. Did she have you send a message back home?” Itachi asked.

“Yeah, not that it’ll do you any good to know that now. It went out hours ago.” Densho smugly stated.

Damn, Itachi thought. The message would be miles away by now and there was no way he could intercept them.

Densho launched himself towards Itachi with a stone fist raised and ready to punch. When his fist collided, he was proud to have landed a blow on the renowned criminal, but the feeling quickly vanished as Itachi’s form dispersed into a flock of crows. A look of shock twisted onto Densho’s face.

Suddenly, Densho was standing in the center of the roof, as if he had never moved from the spot. The cold steel of a kunai pressed into his throat. “Genjutsu, huh?” Densho said. “You know, she warned me about you. Guess I should’ve listened.”

In one motion, Itachi slit the thin skin of his throat.

Asaya brushed and towel dried her hair as best she could before dressing herself in the new clothes Itachi bought for her. She really did need to thank him for them, she thought while assessing herself in the bathroom mirror. They fit well and were pretty cute and comfortable. Speaking of, she was surprised that he hadn’t knocked on the door to tell her to hurry up. She felt like she’d been bathing for hours.

When she stepped back into the hotel room, Itachi was sitting at the foot of a twin bed. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Asaya immediately stifled a laugh, to which Itachi raised a quizzical brow. “Yes. Sorry I took so long.” If only he knew. She zipped up her new, plum sweat jacket. “Thank you for the new clothes, by he way. They’re very comfortable.”

“Don’t, it’s nothing.” She had looked awkward wearing his spare clothes. It attracted too much attention. “Let’s go.” Itachi stood up and led them out of the hotel.

The streets of this town were the same as any other in Water Country, just a little nicer. Asaya still found it interesting, though, to experience the hustle and bustle of someplace foreign, someplace new. As they left town, the noise disappeared and reverted into soft rustling trees and tweeting birds.

“Asaya,” Itachi addressed her.

“Hm?”

“The waiter you were speaking with last night, did you know him from somewhere?”

He said it so casually Asaya was sure he was mocking her. “No, why?”

“Densho, I believe he said his name was.” Itachi watched her eyes sharply dart to him, her pupils twitching apprehensively. “You should know better than to think you could send a message back to Iwa.” No words left her mouth, but she nearly stopped walking for a split second.

“Don’t try it again.” Itachi intentionally misled her into assuming that he had intercepted her messages, when in reality he hadn’t. He just wouldn’t allow her to think she had succeeded. She showed no fear, instead putting on a bravely unaffected façade, but he imagined her heart plummeting like a meteor.

What a beautiful day. The sky was clear and the sun bright. The temperature wasn’t too hot as it often was in Water country. The elevated dirt road Asaya and Itachi traveled was perfectly picturesque, bordering a provincial rice farming village on the remote side of a large island. The paddy water gleamed still and peaceful in the sunlight while fresh, young sprouts eagerly peaked above the surface.

Regrettably, the pastoral beauty was lost on Asaya, who thought of nothing but the abrasive sound of her feet dragging over the ground. Every time she tried to think she would remember the man who had tried to help her and that he was now dead.

A commotion drifted into Asaya’s left ear. Perking her head up to look over her left shoulder, she saw a group of young boys playing some meters away on the other side of a rice paddy. She squinted, curious as to what they were so excited about. A smaller boy frantically circled the group of larger boys trying to break into their circle, but he was easily kept out.

“Stop! Stop hurting her!” The small boy cried, weak and distressed.

Asaya halted for just a moment before she impulsively threw off her shoes and ran towards the boys. “Hey!” she aggressively shouted as her bare feet splashed through the water, carelessly trampling the delicate rice reeds in her wake. “What’s going on?!”

Like frightened animals, the boys froze when they saw the oncoming, rabid woman. One of them had the sense to yell, “Run!” and they all shrieked and scattered as fast as they could. Sticks and rocks dropped to the ground where they had been.

“You better run!” Asaya shouted at their backs. As she reached the bank, she grabbed a pebble from beneath the water and threw it at one of the largest boys. He yelped and stumbled, then he scrambled back up and kept running. Satisfied, she didn’t bother chasing them down the road.

The solitary little boy walked past Asaya to pick up a tiny, furry thing. She watched him silently as he cradled a white bunny in his small arms with all the care a mother would her baby. They boy’s large, brown eyes overflowed with tears as they sorrowfully looked at the creature. “Thank you, miss,” he managed to mumble and bowed politely.

“I’m so sorry,” Asaya said after him as he turned and walked away.

Across the water, a black silhouette hovered like a specter.

Itachi heard Asaya shout and she suddenly took off running across the water, leaving only her shoes behind. A group of boys roughhoused on the other side of the rice paddy. Exactly what did she think she was doing?

Standing still, Itachi shifted his weight to one leg as he watched. A slender eyebrow curved when she threw a rock at one of the fleeing boys. One small boy stayed behind and picked up what was presumably a stolen possession from where the group had huddled. Then they boy bowed and left.

Some seconds passed while Itachi watched Asaya, and she in turn watched the little boy walk away. But she did eventually remember him and obediently walked the perimeter of the rice paddy to return to him.

Her shoes still lay on the ground where she had abandoned them, but after picking them up she didn’t put them back on. Dust and dirt covered her wet feet, and putting them into her clean shoes wasn’t appealing. She faced him with tight shoulders and curled toes. “Sorry for that,” she shyly apologized.

Something genuinely troubled glinted behind her eyes. “Is something wrong?” Itachi asked,

“No, not at all,” Asaya lied.

The sun had hidden behind the trees by the time the pair reached the rendezvous spot. The red light glowed angrily against black, shadow-consumed tress like a toddler that didn’t want to go to bed. Crows cawed to each other as Itachi and Asaya walked by, their sound like dry sand inside her ears.

An abandoned cluster of buildings huddled claustrophobically together in a small clearing. Asaya wondered how they knew where all of these abandoned places were. Perhaps criminals naturally flocked to them as part of their lifestyle- places that seemed optimal to be murdered in, that is. The main building was constructed of wood that had long since splintered and a rusted tin roof. One section of the wrap-around porch had completely collapsed. Itachi walked up to it, opened the front door, and stepped inside. Asaya cautiously glanced over her shoulder before following.

The interior was an open floor model, with the foyer conjoining the living room, kitchen, and dining room. The few pieces of furniture and other items left were even more decomposed than the rest of the house, a leak in the roof having ruined the dinner table. A moldy stench permeated the air. The kitchen had no appliances except for the sink. The rest were presumably taken by the family when they left or stolen. Many of the white tiles on the kitchen floor were cracked or missing, and dirt had accumulated in the grout, resulting in more mold. This was by far the most disgusting place she had ever been, Asaya thought, hoping that they weren’t going to stay for long.

Loud, rhythmic thudding echoed from above them, moving from one side of the ceiling to the other. Asaya wasn’t at all confused or startled. She simply looked to her right, where Kisame walked down the stairs. “Nice to see someone finally showed up.”

“Where are the others?” Itachi asked, surprised that he wasn’t the last to arrive.

“Beats me. Ever since we recruited that new kid, they’ve been late for everything.”

Itachi had to admit he was relieved that he technically wasn’t tardy anymore. But in any case, the natural light was disappearing fast. “Go and forage for something to eat,” he instructed Kisame while walking out the back door. “I’ll light a fire.”

The sky blackened almost immediately after Itachi set up camp. Fortunately, the temperature cooled to be just comfortable enough for outdoor camping. There was no chance they were going to sleep in that decrepit, malodorous building. He and Asaya had set up just in front of a moderately large shed that had been used to store logs. Apparently, this establishment had belonged to a family of loggers. Convenient, since it meant there was a ready supply of firewood.

Sitting cross legged, Asaya bathed in the pleasant heat. Her jacket sat lackadaisically beside her. Itachi sat adjacent to her; however, his coat was folded neatly beside him. The flames smoldered peacefully, only spewing out an occasional crack or hiss.

‘Hey!’ Asaya’s voice called in Itachi’s head, echoed by the splash of her small feet running through the rice paddy. He remembered she didn’t put her shoes back on because her feet were wet. “You could have used chakra to run across the water.”

“What?” The comment seemed so unprompted that Asaya didn’t know what he was referring to at first. “Oh,” she said, “I didn’t-” Now uncomfortably self-conscious, she pulled her knees to her chest and hugged her legs. “I’ll remember next time.” She watched him gaze into the fire, seemingly unfulfilled. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing,” he answered with such inattention that he was obviously keeping something to himself.

She did notice him peek at her feet for some reason. Fine, then, Asaya thought flippantly, but tactfully said, “You know, since I always answer your questions, you could do me the courtesy of answering one of mine. It’s not unreasonable.”

Admittedly, Itachi found her solicitation funny given the circumstances. Cheeky, almost. “You’re my abductee; I don’t have to be courteous or reasonable.”

Asaya’s breath caught, thinking he was completely serious. But then she realized he was actually being wry and she bit her lip in a smile.

Itachi watched the firelight cast tenebristic shadows across Asaya’s profile, accentuating the small, feminine dimple on her smiling cheek. Her pale skin glowed softly like the horizon moments before the break of dawn. The way she looked away from him could even be described as coy.

“Kisame is back,” Itachi abruptly announced, to himself as much as Asaya.

The blue man emerged from the far trees a moment or so later with a few fish bundled together. He lumbered over to the fire, skewered the carcasses, and propped them up to roast. “Hungry, Itachi?”

“No.”

At the sight of the girl’s repulsed face, Kisame chuckled with satisfaction. He knew she hated seafood. “So, what do we do if they don’t show? It’s been two days already.” Kisame asked his partner.

“If they aren’t here by tomorrow afternoon, we will head to the next town and wait for either Zetsu to contact us or for them to figure out where we went.” Itachi wasn’t going to camp in this wretched place just to wait for them.

Relief graced Asaya with those words. Not that she wasn’t accustomed to enduring the wilderness, but beds were so much more comfortable than dirt. And there would be something to eat other than fish. Probably.

Midmorning the next day, the harsh mutterings of Itachi and Kisame awoke Asaya. She lay unmoving, almost unable to make sense of their voices in her drowsy state.

“I say we leave now. That way we’re sure to make it to town before nightfall.” Kisame’s voice was definitely not the most pleasant thing to wake up to.

“I would agree, but if you’ll look, you can see them on the horizon.” Itachi’s voice was preferable.

Asaya heard them, but she couldn’t really process the information. Their rhythmic footsteps as they walked away only made her drowsiness worse. She was so blissfully close to sleeping again when one large thud slapped her into consciousness. Throwing herself upright, she grabbed her temple with one hand to soothe a minor ache. They’ve arrived, she realized.

“What the hell took you so long?!” Kisame shouted as his fellow Akatsuki disembarked from a gigantic, bird-like sculpture.

One of them, a grumpy, black tortoise, countered, “We would have been on time if it weren’t for this armature.”

“’Ameture?!’” a blond young man brashly exclaimed as he jumped off the sculpture. “We’re in the same professional organization, yeah? If it weren’t for my talent, we wouldn’t be able to travel so fast, un.” He emphatically gestured to the bird sculpture before making a hand seal which shrunk the sculpture to pocket size in a puff of smoke.

The narrow, beady eyes of the black tortoise openly scowled at the young man. “Your ‘talent’ nearly destroyed the compound we were supposed to infiltrate.’

“But it didn’t, did it? It was all part of the plan, yeah.” The young man smugly crossed his arms.

“You’re an insufferable fool.”

Kisame chuckled at his colleague’s misery. Itachi wasn’t that much older than they blond boy, but he was far more tolerable.

“Sasori, do you know why Leader arranged for you to meet us?” Itachi interjected, not wanting to hear any more of their squabbling.

“Of course, don’t you?” Sasori bit at him.

When Itachi hesitated to answer, the young man immediately caught on to the implication. “You mean Leader just told you to show up without telling you why? Ha!”

Itachi’s brow twitched ever so slightly. He really was insufferable.

One small, short-fingered hand curled around the corner of the abandoned house. Asaya nervously watched the two new Akatsuki members arrived. She wondered what other kinds of people might make up the organization. Itachi seemed normal enough- at least for a criminal- but Kisame and the thing called Zetsu definitely weren’t. The first one to catch her attention was a black, tortoise-like creature. They must have some inhuman deformity hidden under their cloak. The second one appeared normal, if little short. But who was she to judge? Asaya guessed they were only an inch or two taller than herself. However, it was hard to tell when their face was obstructed by their high-collared cloak and sugegasa.

She could hear all four’s voices, but they were just a little too far away for her to clearly understand the conversation. The black tortoise had a masculine and grating voice, like desert sand in the wind. The second’s sounded male too, but it was young and rowdy.  Asaya’s brow wrinkled uncomfortably. His voice was uncannily familiar…

“Quiet, Deidara. Our instructions were vague as well.” Sasori scolded his partner. “Itachi, we stole a forbidden scroll from a temple in Fire Country. It’s sealed, but we were told to bring it to you to open.”

“Open it?” Kisame interjected. “Neither of us knows how to unlock seals. Zetsu must be playing with us again.”

Deidara looked at the blue man in disbelief and groaned, “You mean we came all the way to nowhere Water Country for nothing, hm?”

A spark of insight ignited in Itachi’s mind. “We cannot open the scroll, but I know who can.”

“You’re joking.” Kisame couldn’t believe it.

“A while ago, Kisame and I abducted an Iwa kunoichi. Leader ordered us to hold her until further notice.” Itachi noticed Deidara look down and away, definitely contemplating something. “Do you know something, Deidara?”

“That’s right,” Kisame said, “you’re both from Iwa, and she’s about your age, too. Maybe you went to school together.”

“Maybe, yeah. What’s she like?” Deidara removed his sugegasa and shifted his weight to one side. He appeared intrigued.

Impatient, Sasori interrupted, “I have a better question; where is this supposed girl? I doubt she’s invisible.”

Itachi answered, “She’s been watching us from behind that corner.”

All four Akatsuki looked at the shed to see a small head disappear behind the corner.

A mischievous, impish smile spread across Deidara’s face. “Hmm, I guess I’ll have to see for myself, yeah.”

As the new Akatsuki took off his sugegasa, Asaya subconsciously inched her head and shoulders further around the corner. When the figure’s blond, blue-eyed face was revealed, her brain refused to process the information, utterly consternated. What cruel, cosmic force designed this twist of fate?

The four turned to look her way and Asaya recoiled behind the corner and flattened her back against the wall, heart beating like a rabbit on the run. What would happen now that Deidara was present? He knew things about her the others didn’t, changing the dynamics entirely.

Footsteps closed in. It was Deidara approaching- it had to be. Closing her eyes and holding her breath, she counted down the moment when he would just reach the corner.

When one toe appeared around the corner, Asaya reached out her hand and ensnared the left side of Deidara’s head like a cat’s claws capturing a mouse. She violently slammed it against the shed wall three times. “Agh!” he cried. His scope popped off his face, tiny shards of the shattered glass lenses twinkling as they fell. Deidara, completely disoriented, buckled over, giving Asaya the opportunity to knee him in the stomach. Groaning, he fell to his knees and then flat on the ground.

Asaya stood over him, tempted to kick him again for good measure, but she tempered herself into walking away.

No one quite understood what had happened. Speechless, Itachi and Kisame had not expected…. whatever that was. And clearly neither had Deidara. Sure, the girl was willful, but despite her multiple escape attempts, she was never one to attack unprovoked.

“I like this girl,” Sasori said.

“So, let me guess- ex-girlfriend?” Kisame asked Deidara as the younger man weakly stood up.

“Not quite, hm,” coughed Deidara. “We were friends before I left, kind of.”

“Then what did you do to piss her off?”

“Well, I’m probably not the most popular guy after deserting Iwa, yeah.”

Deidara was obviously ashamed of whatever he wasn’t telling, but Itachi did not care to inquire about it. At least not for now. However, he did find it advantageous that Deidara knew Asaya personally.

“Your schoolboy memories aren’t worth wasting our time.” Sasori stated. “Itachi, we have a scroll for you to unlock. Can you or not?”

Itachi appreciated Sasori’s focus. He wanted to get this over with just as much. “No, I cannot, but I think she can.”

“I know for a fact she can, yeah,” Deidara said. “She’s Iwa’s Grandmaster’s apprentice. Or, at least she was before I left, un.”

Slender, black eyebrows twitched. Why wasn’t Itachi aware of this sooner? Thinking back to the other night in the hotel, he wondered why he didn’t realize Asaya was lying. “She claimed that she worked for the Tsuchikage’s family.”

Looking out of his non-swollen eye, Deidara replied, “Back in the day she used to babysit one of the Tsuchikage’s grandsons. The family liked her, so they probably kept her around, hm.”

So, Asaya hadn’t exactly lied, but she had still omitted the truth he wanted.

“That’s nice, but it’s not why we’re here,” Sasori stated, treading towards the girl.

Asaya looked up at him as he approached. The three others followed not far behind him. Something bad was about to happen, especially now that Deidara was with them. He knew too much about her. The other new Akatsuki- Sasori, they called him- was probably a torture and interrogation specialist. Itachi and Kisame had probably just been holding her until a good time for him to torture village secrets out of her…

The four Akatsuki loomed around her like vultures above an emaciated, orphaned foal. Asaya stood completely still until Deidara pulled a cylindrical object from his cloak.

“Open it.” Sasori commanded.

Asaya looked at the scroll, examining the label closely. “I can’t, it’s-

“Bullshit, un.” Deidara interrupted her. “Don’t even try to lie, yeah.”

Dammit, Asaya thought. It was worth a try.

“If you fail to comply, we have ways of making you,” Itachi warned, eyes flashing red.

With a sigh, Asaya took the scroll. The seal was a basic explosion type. Not the most complicated, but there were obvious consequences for failing. Fire Country, she immediately recognized the craftsmanship.

I could just open it now and take us all out, Asaya thought cynically. They must not have known it was volatile. She couldn’t imagine them handing it to her so freely if they did. “How imperative is it that this is opened?”

“If it wasn’t important, why would we have gone through all this trouble?” Sasori’s callous words made her wince.

“If I try and open this, there is a chance it could explode,” she explained.

“Then don’t make a mistake.”

A few hours had passed and Asaya still hadn’t opened the scroll. She didn’t have a pencil and paper to write her formulas and calculations with, so she improvised by pulling a rusted nail from the shed and utilizing it to write in the dirt. Mental fatigue had set in, making her hand drag as it scratched the dirt. Her eyes occasionally stared at the symbols as if she were illiterate. It had been so long since she had been away from her studies that she had forgotten how tediously time consuming this could be. Checking and double checking, making sure everything matched up exactly- was her formula even the right one to begin with?

The four Akatsuki sat around a campfire some distance away from Asaya. Occasionally they would glance at her, but otherwise they ignored her to talk amongst themselves. Eventually, though, Sasori ran out of patience and yelled, “Are you finished yet?”

Asaya snapped her head up immediately. Instead of speaking, she slowly turned her head side to side.

Sasori grumbled, dissatisfied, and turned back to his colleagues to continue ignoring her.

Itachi, however, had been discreetly watching her the whole time. Partially because he did not trust her with an explosive, but also because his colleagues’ chatting wasn’t any more interesting than her scrawl into the dirt in a rather chicken-like manner. He stared compulsively when she startled like a field mouse at Sasori’s sudden interrogation.

The timid, demure meekness she outwardly exhibited belied her potential for fury- she had assaulted Deidara so naturally. Itachi had to admit he was surprised, but he shouldn’t have been; he had noticed her feisty nuances, the intense look in her eyes when she thought no one was paying attention. She was impressively good at masking it.

What exactly went on in her head? As the hours passed, a cloud of anxiety grew over Asaya. Itachi surmised she thought that after she had opened the scroll her purpose would have expired and they- probably he- would kill her. There was no chance they’d just let her go. She was just another unlucky casualty in the Akatsuki’s path. But really, was it any different than dying as a tool in the name of one’s village?

How conventionally tragic.

Starlight twinkled in the darkness like frozen dust. No moonlight cast itself over the earth. Instead, warm, yellow-orange firelight radiated out over the entire cleating, only stopped by the buildings and trees. And the silhouettes of five figures.

The four Akatsuki sat in a circle around the fire. They hadn’t realized that Asaya had fallen asleep on the ground where she had been working.

When she had finished unsealing the scroll, she hadn’t bothered informing them. She was tired, she didn’t care, and, seeing that they had forgotten about her, took the liberty of falling asleep.

The first to notice her laying down was Deidara. “Does she always do that, hm?” he asked while pointing at her.

The other three shifted their focus.

“Cow,” Kisame grumbled.

Curious, Deidara stood up and walked towards her, stretching his arms and rotating his shoulders to relieve the stiffness that had resulted from hours of sitting still.

“I dare you to wake her up,” Kisame goaded.

The blond shot an angry look over his shoulder at the shark-man’s challenge. “I’m just checking if she opened it or not, un,” he defended himself, not wanting them to think he was afraid of her.

By all appearances, Asaya slept solidly, curled into a ball with her head resting in the crook of her arm. The scroll lay about a foot and a half away from her. Thinking back to their academy days, Deidara remembered she was a bombproof sleeper. But despite her placid, innocent face, Deidara saw a treasure-hoarding dragon. He swallowed his fear for the sake of pride and knelt down on one knee to pick up the scroll, hand reaching out slowly and shaking slightly. His eyes watched for the slightest twitch of her body.

Luckily, she didn’t stir and he clasped the scroll triumphantly above his chest and smirked, “Stupid cow, yeah.”

WHAM!

Sudden, sharp pain plastered across his left cheek for the second time, knocking him backwards on his ass. “Dammit!” he shouted, cradling his cheek to soothe the stinging.

“What did you say?” Asaya aggressively knelt over him with a raised fist. “Want to say it again?”

“Dammit, Saya! What did I ever do to you, huh?” Deidra whined.

“Really?” Asaya scowled. “That shouldn’t need an explanation, jackass. And don’t call me that.”

This time, the other three Akatsuki weren’t surprised by the violence. Kisame laughed deeply with shining teeth, happily entertained at his colleague’s expense. Sasori enjoyed the sense of pleasure he got out of his partner’s suffering. And even Itachi couldn’t deny that Deidara deserved it.

Between chuckles, Kisame suggested, “You know, Sasori, if you ask Leader, he might let you keep her. She seems to be good at keeping your partner in line.”

“I’m already contemplating it,” Sasori replied. He could make her into a puppet with the sole purpose of beating that punk into the ground. Fine art, indeed.

“Seriously, why are you so pissed off, un?” Deidara asked.

Puffing her chest and shoulders, Asaya berated him, “Do you have any idea how much crap I went through because you defected?! I almost lost my position because of you! They even threatened to dishonorably discharge me.”

“Hey, I never thought they’d accuse you-”

“No, you didn’t think, did you? That’s kind of your problem; you’re a narcissistic, egotistical, selfish asshole! For all the times you’ve gotten me in trouble…”

Watching Deidara and Asaya bicker childishly was much more entertaining than anyone would like to admit. In all honestly, it was probably the most interesting thing to happen since Itachi and Kisame first kidnapped the girl.

“Do you think we should stop them or wait and see if she hits him again?” Kisame was only half joking.

“Leave them,” Sasori said decisively, “Hopefully, she’ll kill him and I can get a new partner. And where is Zetsu? He’s late.”

It was a good question. Itachi had been wondering the same thing. Although by now Zetsu’s tardiness was the expectation, not the exception. Everything involving that girl was frustratingly opaque. He hoped that when Zetsu finally showed up they could just hand over the scroll and be done with the ordeal that was her.

But as he looked at Asaya vivaciously quarreling with Deidara, he remembered her footsteps splashing through the water and the lilt of her voice when they spoke privately, and he found the memories betrayed something within him.

Squawking chickens was an accurate description of Asaya and Deidara’s argument- or chattering squirrels. They sat facing each other, often gesturing emphatically with their hands.

Leaning forward, Asaya placed one hand on the ground to stabilize herself as she pointed one finger directly at Deidara. “I couldn’t have been happier your obnoxious ass defected! And it looks like you’ve finally found a group of people just as unpleasant as you for friends! You should-”

The earth tremored under her hand and she looked down in confusion.

“What? Finally run out of stupid things to say, hm?” Deidara took advantage of her sudden silence.

“Shut up,” She lifted her hand from the ground.

The earth vibrated again, strong enough for both of them to feel it through their legs. They stared at the spot beneath them.

A large, green plant erupted upwards, causing them to scramble backwards in shock. Its two leaves unfolded to reveal the black-and-white Zetsu. “Nice to see you again, Asaya darling. Have you finished your homework?” White Zetsu playfully addressed the cringing girl.

Zetsu had never spoken to Asaya before. She nervously froze, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted.

“Well?” Zetsu’s gleefully menacing smile didn’t make her feel any better.

Stricken mute, Asaya picked up the scroll in question- conveniently located just to her right- and held it out to him.

“Good girl! We’re so proud of you.” He fully emerged from the ground and took the scroll, then ambled towards the other three Akatsuki, giving not one glance at Deidara.

“Leader will be glad to know she has passed her test. Seems she is what we wanted.” Zetsu said to Itachi and Kisame.

Itachi grasped the implication immediately. “Was there ever a question of her identity? Or were we misinformed?” He had never gotten a straight answer out of Zetsu before, but maybe with a large amount of luck this time would be different.

“Well, technically no. You were never misinformed, but Leader may have been.” White Zetsu answered.

“Explain.” Itachi was not in the mood for more of Zetsu’s games.

Black Zetsu answered before his counterpart could run his mouth. “The Akatsuki secured the girl under delicate circumstances.”

“’Secured?’” Itachi’s voice became subtly more demanding. “What do you mean by ‘delicate circumstances?’”

“I don’t know. Leader doesn’t tell me everything.” Black Zetsu automatically lied.

Great. Now he had even more questions. Itachi could have stabbed himself.

Kisame took a turn to ask, “So what does Leader want us to do now?”

“Ah, yes!” White Zetsu chimed. “You’re all going on a mission together!”

Thin, almost feminine fingers rhythmically tapped atop a composite wood desk. Listless sighs occasionally wheezed from the apathetic lungs of a sullen, teenage boy. Tsuta, as he was called, had been spending excessive amounts of time stagnating in his room like this: alone, silent, and in the dark. The behavior had started soon after he got the news. He had skipped school again, too- not that anyone was making him go anymore. Asaya was the only one who ever had and she was gone.

The doorbell rang annoyingly from downstairs. Even when it chimed three more times, Tsuta chose to ignore it, continuing to tap his fingers on the desk unaffected.

The visitor didn’t give up, however, and a moment after the ringing stopped, they began pounding on the Tsuta’s bedroom window. “Hey, Tsuta! I can see you. Open up!” His cousin, Kurotsuchi, hovered outside the window.

Why hadn’t he closed the blinds? “Go away,” Tsuta said in a flat tone, not bothering to look her way.

“Look, I know you’re upset, but you have to come out at some point. Grandpa wants to see you in his office. Don’t make me drag you up there,” she threatened.

Groaning dramatically, Tsuta rose from his chair and walked out of his bedroom.

“You better be at the front door when I get there!”

The walk to the Tsuchikage’s- grandfather’s- office was short but silent. Tsuta obviously didn’t want to talk and Kurotsuchi knew anything she said would just upset him. Taking a deep breath, she politely opened the door for Tsuta and prepared herself for the worst. Nothing good ever happened when Grandpa summoned family to the office. Unless it was for village business, but Tsuta obviously wasn’t here for that.

Kurotsuchi and Tsuta bowed respectfully.

“Tsuta,” the Tsuchikage began, “I have an urgent letter for you.” His tone was grave.

A letter? What letter for him could be so important? Tsuta apprehensively approached the desk. Resting squarely in the center was a folded paper addressed to him. He recognized the handwriting immediately. Anxiety rushed through him like an opiate. “What is this?” his voice cracked.

“It arrived last night. There’s a seal on the back I need you to open.” The Tsuchikage explained.

Picking up the letter, Tsuta examined the seal. It was definitely Asaya’s work. If it were anyone else’s, the Tsuchikage would have had someone crack it open without him ever knowing about it. “Do you have a knife?”

Kurotsuchi pulled a kunai from her pocket and handed it to her cousin. “Be careful,” she reminded- nagged- him.

After placing the letter on the table seal-side up, Tsuta pricked the tip of his left ring finger. One tiny, red drop of blood beaded on his skin, which he dabbed on the center of the seal.

This was how Asaya sealed something meant solely for him. Unfortunately, blood was the most foolproof method of preventing prying eyes. The black ink reacted to his blood by evaporating off the paper.

Tsuta snatched the paper off the desk before the Tsuchikage could, his eyes eagerly consuming the words.

Dear Tsuta,

I am alive….

The letter explained that she had been kidnapped- which was not what he had been told happened- by two members of a criminal organization called the Akatsuki, Uchiha Itachi and Hoshigaki Kisame. He committed the names to memory.

P.S. You know nothing.

Well, that just confirmed he couldn’t trust anyone.

“Give me the letter, Tsuta,” the Tsuchikage commanded. “I never gave you permission to read it.”

Tsuta’s brow twitched indignantly. The letter belonged to him, no one else. And unlike everyone else in the family, Tsuta wasn’t a ninja drone, so as far as he was concerned, he wasn’t obligated to obey orders. At the bottom of the letter was another seal- one that would destroy the letter. With no ounce of rebellion spared, Tsuta placed his thumb on it and channeled a tiny amount of chakra. He didn’t know much about chakra control, but he could do small things like this.

The Tsuchikage watched horrified as the paper ignited and burned to ash in seconds. “Damnit, Tsuta! What did you do?” the old man yelled, nose red as a strawberry. “That letter was classified! How dare you disobey your Tsuchikage!”

At this point in his life, Tsuta was unphased by his grandfather’s scolding. “It just did that by itself. Asaya must have put trigger on it or something.” He acted defensive anyway just for the sake of the lie.

“What did it say?” Oonoki asked through his teeth.

“She wished me a happy birthday and said she’d take me out for cake and coffee when she got back.” Tsuta wasn’t really even lying. Not really.

Since the only things left were a pile of ash and Tsuta’s word, Oonoki resentfully let it go, but he warned, “Fine, but if you are lying to me, know that you are only compromising Asaya’s safety and there will be consequences. Now go.”

Tsuta bowed and left the office with Kurotsuchi following close behind.

“Why do you always have to be so difficult, Tsuta?” she scolded him immediately after the heavy door closed.

“Why don’t you nag someone else for a while? I can walk home by myself.” Tsuta snapped back.

“Ugh, Tsuta, you know we all care about Asaya just like you do. So why do you have to be difficult? You’re not helping anyone.”

Tsuta abruptly said “Goodbye,” to his older cousin to prevent her from prolonging the conversation.

‘Consequences,’ ‘compromising Asaya’s safety.’ Bullshit. When had the old man ever cared about anyone but himself? If Asaya thought the Tsuchikage would be helpful, she would have addressed the letter to him instead. Well, now that he thought about it, there was probably a second letter Tsuta didn’t know about. But the point was that Asaya knew the old man would keep Tsuta in the dark if he could. He just wanted to keep all the cards to himself because he didn’t like playing fair.

Immediately after getting home, Tsuta ran up to his room to grab his spare key to Asaya’s apartment. He left through the back door hoping no one would see him.

Asaya wouldn’t have written something so hopeful if she didn’t think there was a reasonable chance that she could fulfill the promise. She wasn’t dishonest like that.

Keys jingled as they landed on the faux-wood laminate countertop of a dark, empty apartment. Or perhaps not empty (there was one person standing in it) but unoccupied. At the moment, the apartment’s tenant- Kagami Asaya- was detained elsewhere in the world. Tsuta had let himself in with his spare key.He had gotten there much later in the evening than expected, but enough sunlight filtered in through the window that he could walk into the studio without turning the lights on.

This was an economy studio on the far side of town. It came with a bathroom; a kitchen with a small refrigerator, three square feet of counter space, a two burner stovetop, a toaster oven, a kettle, and a sink; and an 11’ x 11’ multipurpose living space. Asaya had furnished the place with a loft bed against the front of the room, two bookshelves on the left wall, a dresser on the right one, and a traditional sitting table in the center of the room. None of the furniture matched.

The table still had miscellaneous papers, magazines, books, pens, and other materials littered across it. All of which had collected a thin film of dust. A photography book of Fire Country Shinto temples lay open in a two page spread of some presumably famous torii gates. A half-written report had been left with an uncapped pen on top, as if Asaya had just gotten up for tea. Speaking of tea, he was happy to see that there weren’t any teacups or other dishes left sitting out with spoiled contents. Tsuta shuddered. The fridge probably needed to be burned though.

A yellow light filled the room after Tsuta turned the desk lamp on. Now where did Asaya keep her Bingo book? It was almost surprising she had one since he’d never seen her use it. Considering her job, she wasn’t allowed to leave the village except with explicit, special permission and never for combat purposes. A guide to dangerous criminals one might encounter in the wild was therefore entirely irrelevant to her line of work.

One of the bookshelves was filled with knickknacks, organizational boxes, a family of stuffed animals, and various other things besides books. While scanning the shelves, Tsuta’s eyes focused on a not unkitcky figurine of a carousel horse. Tsuta’s cousin and he had picked it out from an antique shop as a gift for some special occasion. Or something like that- he was too young at the time to remember.

The horse was pristine white with pastel pink, purple, yellow, and blue flowers decorating its mane and tail. Its porcelain legs were bent as if galloping freely without bridle or saddle while a spiraling golden rod affixed the figure to a base.

Tsuta took it off the shelf and turned it over to reveal the figurine was actually a music box. After twisting the metal key, he set it back on the shelf while it played a twenty second loop of some melody they never identified.

Three knocks on the front door were followed by a “Kagami? Are you home?”

It must be the landlady. Tsuta scrambled to open the door. “Hello, Ma’am.” He bowed politely. “I’m sorry, but Asaya isn’t here at the moment. Can I-”

“Then where is she? She up and disappeared weeks ago.” The middle-aged woman interrupted him.

“Sorry, she was called away very suddenly on mission. I don’t know when she’ll be back.” Tsuta answered respectfully.

With thin, purced lips and wrinkled eyebrows, she said “Well, her rent is due. If I don’t get it I’ll have to evict her at the end of the month.”

“Um…” Tsuta panicked. “Oh, I’m sure she left a check. That’s what I stopped by for, actually. To write- pay her check and stuff.”

The landlady raised a scrutinizing brow. It seemed strange that anyone would entrust a 14 year old boy with their rent checks, but generally speaking Asaya was a peculiar tenant. In any case, as long as she got her check, the landlady didn’t care.

Under scrutiny, Tsuta said, “I’ll be sure to give it to you before I leave. I just have to clean up inside.” He could forge her signature well enough; he just hoped that check wouldn’t bounce.

Thankfully, she seemed to buy it. “Very well,” she said. “Leave the check in the mailbox outside my office on the first floor.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I will. Sorry for the inconvenience!” He shouted as she walked away.

But anyway, the book. The actual book shelf was completely stuffed with literature, light novels, texts, manuscripts, and loose papers, forcing Tsuta to scrutinize every item. On the left end of the bottom shelf was a little brown book with no dust jacket or title.

Yes! He shouted inwardly at his success.

Immediately, he flipped through the pages.

Hoshigaki Kisame…one of the 7 swordsmen of the Hidden Mist (whatever that meant)… attempted to overthrow the government… noted to have exceptional strength and stamina… primarily used water techniques… standard bad guy stuff. And he looked like a shark mutant. How cliché.

Uchiha Itachi… Tsuta was thrown off by the young face in the photograph. The boy looked the same age he was. Massacared his entire clan at the age of 13... He could relate to the feeling sometimes, but damn. Fun times. Reading the dates, he realized that the man was actually just two years older than Asaya. A genjutsu user, too. No wonder Asaya was captured. The girl couldn’t counter a genjutsu any more than she could lick her own elbows.

Closing the book, he threw it on the table. It helped ease his anxiety, but overall he wasn’t any happier. There was still the question of this “Akatsuki” business. He could think of a few reasons a criminal organization would kidnap her: information, blackmail, her very particular set of skills. But which one? He’d have to go snooping around Grandpa’s office later.

The window rattled as if shaken by a strong wind. “Meow!”A rather fat black cat pawed at the window.

“There you are!” Tsuta exclaimed while opening the window. The cat had disappeared shortly before Asaya did. He’d assumed the cat finally died.

It brushed itself against his legs with its tail twitching excitedly. “Mow-w!”

“You look like you’ve been on quite the diet.” He reached down to pet the cat’s grimy fur. “You better not have fleas…”

“I don’t have to run faster than you- not if I have enough of a lead. I just have to run farther. I know I can do that.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Crunch, crunch, crunch…

Six inches of snow compressed violently under small, fleeing footfalls. Crisp, icy air scratched at flushed, red cheeks as steaming puffs of breath exhaled rapidly through a dry, raw throat and pink, cracking lips.

Damn it. Golden-brown eyes looked up at dark grey clouds insulating the night sky framed by thin, dead branches laced together like a deranged doily. Paper-like birch trees obscured perception in every direction, their indefinite patterns an optical illusion. There were no beaten paths. Only vibrant, pristine snow perforated by a single trail of footprints.

She wasn’t running fast enough.

Crunch, crunch, crunch…

Asaya whipped her head over her left shoulder just as a black kunai flew an inch beside her ear. She had no option but to keep pressing forward. If she could just make it a bit farther than-

A sudden, painful blow to the right side of her ribcage sent her flying sideways, smashing into a birch trunk and tumbling to the ground. The snow’s crust softly shattered under her body, and its glassy shards pricked her face. Pulling an awkwardly twisted arm out from underneath her torso, she struck the ground next to her head in anger.

Crunch, crunch, crunch…

Panting, she propped herself up onto her forearms. Two feet appeared buried under the snow in her peripheral vision. Through the trees, she heard a low susurration in the direction she had been running.

“Apparently, you didn’t get enough of a lead,” he mocked her.

Her lip curled up and she narrowed her eyes at her fist planted in the snow. 1, 2, 3, she counted in breaths then yelled, “Fuck off!” Asaya pounded the ground with her fist and a wall of earth erupted upwards to push him back. She launched herself into a sprint.

“Please, please, please,” she chanted with her mouth gaping open, trying to inhale every sliver of frozen oxygen.

A red taiko bridge appeared in the distance ahead, nearly shining against the backdrop of the monochromatic forest, beckoning her like a neon sign of divine intervention. Warm tears pearled in the corners of her eyes.

Itachi nearly shouted as he sat upright in the snow. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so much rage. He could have dodged that attack effortlessly if it hadn’t been for her chicanery. Covering his eyes with the palm of his hand, they still stung. Not that his normal eyesight was perfect, but at least that hadn’t been affected.

A gritty cough erupted from Itachi’s lungs, and he clutched his chest. A familiar sensation akin to coarse sand coated his throat and lungs. He only had so much more time with which he could chase her, but he would be damned if he didn’t catch her.

Asaya reached the apex of the red bridge, stopped, and turned around to see Itachi halt just in front of the threshold, waiting for her next move. She wasn’t at all surprised he caught up to her again. His sharp, black eyes met hers. The determination in them was unmistakable; a fierce determination that belied the fatigue she knew he suffered. How many times had she glanced away from them nervous and embarrassed, or stared into them with matched fury? Or met them evenly while biting her tongue? Who could say? But this time, the last time, she looked into them with something else entirely. Her face softened and her lips cracked as they sheepishly curled up.

Snow falling in large, airy clusters squelched all ambient sound except the gushing river.

Itachi knew better than to rush onto the bridge. She could try and run to the other side, but he’d catch her before she set foot back on soil. She knew that, which meant she planned to destroy the bridge after he stepped onto it to create a diversion. Predictable, but without his ability to see chakra, he wouldn’t easily be able to track her movements through the debris.

His brow twitched when she unbuttoned her thick, wool coat and tossed it aside. Between his blurring eyesight and the distance between them, he couldn’t tell if he imagined it, but was she smiling? Standing still, the snowflakes alighted upon her hair in white, crystalline petals. Itachi-

Asaya lunged over the rail and plunged into the river. The sharp splash sunk into him with a sudden, urgent dread.

The gelid, black current quickly pulled her to the bottom of the river. If she could stay down long enough, the current would carry her far enough away that he couldn’t follow. With no way of seeing her chakra anymore, he wouldn’t be able to tell how far or how fast she was moving. He’d lose track of her in only minutes.

The water saturated her clothing and burned as it rushed over her skin. She curled herself into a tight ball, her only defense against a thrashing current that tried to pull and twist her limbs apart. Only darkness greeted her squinting eyes. Desperation never led to ideal circumstances, she mused as her shoulders dug into and scraped against the stony riverbed. At least she knew which way was down.

The oxygen in her lungs staled faster than she anticipated. She pinched her nose and curled herself even tighter. A few precious bubbles escaped her as she tumbled again into the riverbed, the jagged rocks snagging strands of her hair and ripping them from her scalp.

A hand suddenly grabbed her left forearm and jerked it away from her chest. Asaya nearly screamed and fought desperately to pull it back, clawing at the fingers around her arm with her own helplessly frozen ones. She would have chewed the appendage off like a fox in a trap.

Itachi’s arm encircled her waist and she flailed against him, splashing wildly when he pulled her to the surface and then onto the snowy riverbank where he collapsed on top of her.

The weight of his body trapped her like a lead net. Limp and defeated, she cried out in pure anger. She screamed loud and hoarse, but it didn’t carry far. Instead of an echo, she heard only Itachi’s soft wheezing. His mouth was so close to her ear that it drowned out the sound of her own gasps. She winced.

Itachi felt her shuddering beneath him. “What were you thinking?!” he yelled, or at least tried to. “What are you trying to do? Kill yourself?” His raspy, quavering voice betrayed him.

Asaya stared at her wet fingertips while she slowly articulated them in the snow. They didn’t so much as tingle anymore. No, she thought, but you are.

“Well?” he pressed his cheek into her balmy neck. He would have gotten up, but the heat of her body tethered him in place.

“Go to hell,” she whispered spitefully.

“Gladly,” he huffed into her ear. “I’m sure it’s more pleasant than-”

Asaya waited for Itachi to finish the caustic remark, but he didn’t. “What? Can’t think of anything clever to-”

He was limp, she realized. “Itachi?”

Like and inanimate ragdoll, he didn’t resist as she rolled him off her and onto his back. “Hey, say something,” she demanded kneeling over him. “Hey!”

His eyes flickered open when she placed a hand on his chest and gently shook him. “St- stop,” he quietly muttered. She had never heard his voice sound like that: struggling and feeble.

Under her small hand, his heart beat weak and erratic. She looked up the riverbank to the road that ran alongside it, then back at the dying man beneath her.

Heavy petals of snow continued falling.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A middle-aged man shot up in bed.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The noise came from the front door: a pounding so strong the whole house seemed to shake. He thought he heard a cry. Then he heard it again. It was a plea for help. He flung the sheets off and marched from his bedroom to the front door without putting on slippers.

Bang! Bang- He flung the door open.

On his doorstep stood a young woman with another figure draped over her shoulder. She was short, even for a woman, and looked up at him in distress. “Please, help.”

“Come in, quickly,” he unburdened her of the figure and carried them inside. It was immediately apparent that the person was comatose. And wet. Their body wasn’t shivering, either. He rushed them to the living room where he laid them on the sofa by the fireplace. It was a man, he realized. “Do you know how to start a fire?” he asked the woman, a little more aggressively than he meant to

She nodded.

“Then grab some firewood from the small shed just to the left of the back door. The matches are in the tin box on top of the old newspapers next to the fireplace.” She was at the back door before he’d finished the second sentence.

He returned his attention to the young man. His clothes were soaking wet and almost icy where they didn’t cling to his body. The ends of his long, black hair had frozen together. Was he even breathing? The man hovered his broad hand just over the young man’s mouth. It was feint, but he did feel air moving against his palm. The man felt a brief relief before rushing to grab scissors from the kitchen and blankets from the closet.

When he returned, the young woman was back at the fireplace with two more logs than she could comfortably carry. She stacked the logs and wadded up some old newspaper and stuffed it between them. Her fumbling hands pried open the tin box, and she became frustrated when they couldn’t quickly strike a match. She succeeded after a few tries, and she lit the fire.

“You’re not by chance a doctor, are you?” the man asked her.

She shook her head.

“Neither am I. I’m no expert, but chances are your boy won’t last the night.” His voice was as gruff as the short, peppery hairs of his beard. It was harsh, but true. He saw her eyes shift to the young man. She had been in the same frigid conditions as her companion, but she only began shaking just now.

“Look,” the man scratched the back of his head, “if you don’t mind me askin’, what happened to the two of you?”

Taking a moment too long to respond, she bit the inside of her lip before saying, “My brother and I were attacked by highwaymen while traveling home. They ambushed us at the bridge and stole all of our belongings then threw us into the river.”

“You don’t look like siblings,” he bluntly stated.

“Stepsiblings,” she said. An easy lie.

The man pursed his lips and ran his tongue behind his teeth. He knew that some form of trouble had landed on his doorstep, but he didn’t know what kind. No one in their right mind would travel at midnight, not in this weather. This was a safe part of the country, too. No one had been attacked by highwaymen in years, certainly not only a few kilometers from his home. “What were you traveling at night for?”

The woman opened her mouth and her eyes darted to the side, but she wasn’t able to come up with anything to say either because she was too anxious to improvise a convincing story or she simply wasn’t creative enough. “I’m sorry, sir,” she finally answered with a sigh, “but I can’t answer that.”

He could accept there was a certain kind of honesty in those words. “Alright, but can you at least tell me your names?”

“My name is Yukimura Tomoyo, and his name is Yuuto. Thank you for opening your door to us,” she said quietly and politely with a bow.

Those were definitely not their real names. Not that it mattered, he just needed a way to address them. “I’m Ishikawa Banri,” he introduced himself. “Sorry to meet you in such unfortunate circumstances. I’ll put the kettle on.”

“I don’t mean to trouble you more than I already have.”

“Nonsense,” he dismissed her formality.

Banri walked into his kitchen, filled his steel kettle with water, and set it on the stove to boil. The gas burner clicked four times before lighting. Grabbing two teacups from the cupboard, he thought about calling the authorities. He thought they might be trying to rob him, but that man she was with was truly dying of hypothermia. No one in their right mind would do that for a grift, at least not for what little he owned.

The two might be runaways, possibly lovers. Tomoyo, as she claimed to be called, seemed kind, but he questioned the young man’s character for having put them in this situation. In any case, they probably had families looking for them. But he could deal with that in the morning.

He opened a sachet of black tea and placed it in a ceramic teacup. Just before the kettle whistled, he took it off the burner and filled the cup. He also filled a rubber water bottle. Then again, they were away from their families for a reason, he thought while scratching his beard. He didn’t know what to make of it.

Banri returned to the living room where Tomoyo sat next to her helpless companion lying on his couch. The small living room had already begun to heat up, he noted. “How long have you known him?” he asked and handed her the cup of tea. Then he placed the hot water bottle under Yuuto’s neck. Banri had cut off his wet clothes and wrapped him in thick, heavy blankets earlier. It was the best he could do for first aid. He was relieved to see that the younger man was still breathing, a little easier, even, but that still didn’t mean he’d live. He looked again at Tomoyo, with her fingers gripping the teacup so tight her knuckles turned white, and wondered if this man was worth her worry. Well, at least she wasn’t in critical condition too.

Asaya startled, not realizing the man had returned. “Thank you, sir,” she gingerly took the teacup. “I’ve known him-” How long had it been? she thought while wrapping her fingers around the hot porcelain. It scalded her hands but she didn’t care. “Not that long, I think,” she sighed and closed her eyes. She knew she’d start crying if she didn’t hold herself together. “I don’t actually know anymore, though.”

“I see,” Ishikawa said, then followed up with, “How do you know him, then?”

He and an anthropomorphic shark kidnapped me because they’re part of an evil cult that wants to take over the world, or something approximating that, Asaya scrunched her eyebrows, trying unsuccessfully to articulate an answer. What came to mind was how he usually looked at her, red-eyed and detached, like she didn’t matter enough to be disapproved of. But then there were moments, often when they were alone, when his black eyes softened and he would speak gentle words, or at least words with a gentleness behind them. Honest or not, “I couldn’t say.”

The older gentleman was visibly uncomfortable with her answers, and it was then that Asaya realized she had just confirmed she had lied to him earlier. “I understand you’re in a bad situation, but-” he began to say, but she interrupted him.

“I know what this looks like, sir, but we aren’t trying to steal anything or running away from anyone. We won’t cause you any more trouble,” Asaya said, knowing what he was thinking. “We just,” she glanced at the unconscious Itachi, “he just needs to recover.” She saw his chest rise and fall underneath the blankets and hoped she wasn’t just imagining it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ache.

An ache so overwhelming that it didn’t feel attached to his physical body. A bizarre mixture of pain and numbness that blurred distinction between his body and the world around it.

A crackling sound burst into his right ear and pulled him into reality. He opened his eyes, but a burning light seared them shut. He waited a few moments with clamped eyelids before hesitantly fluttering them open again. Directly above him was a log cabin ceiling illuminated by a warm, orange glow. A soft fabric blanketed his skin.

Itachi turned his head towards the light. Truthfully, it fell more than turned. He saw the profile of a figure sitting in front of a fireplace. The harsh contrast of firelight and shadow prevented him from identifying them. Who are you? he tried to say, but he could barely  move his tongue.

“-ou,” he eked out.

The figure instantly turned to face him.

“Hey,” said her feminine voice, softly as if the sound might shatter him. He knew her, knew her timbre.

“Asaya,” her name came to him.

There was a pained relief in her expression, like circulation returning to a paresthetic limb.

Images filtered into his mind like a drop of ink in water: her cheeks flushed by the campfire with troubled eyes, her footsteps running through the snow, the snowflakes in her hair, the ghost of a smile. He remembered his shock when she jumped off the apex of the bridge, and then another when the frozen water hit his skin.

“You’re alive,” he breathed.

“You’re alive,” she echoed.

He tried to sit up, but it was futile. He could barely move one arm, let alone his whole body. “What happened?”

“Shhh,” she soothed him. Apprehensive and uncertain, she looked like a deer trying to decide if it was safe to leave the forest. “Don’t move.”

Itachi couldn’t remember anything that happened after he jumped into the river. “How did we get here?” his voice was still weak, but he could pronounce each word clearly.

Firelight flickered across her face. “The woodsman who lives here let us stay for the night.”

That didn’t actually answer the question, but he could figure it out by context; she had carried him here. “How long have we been here?”

“A few hours, I think. The sun will be up soon.”

Itachi shook his head and closed his eyes once more. “Why are you still here?”

Asaya was silent, reluctant to answer hoping he would withdraw the question. He had no intention of doing so.

“You could be halfway to Iwa right now.”

“You could be dead right now,” she retorted.

As if he didn’t know. All she had to do was let him freeze to death and she would be free. Or if she had just left before he woke. But here she was. Here she recklessly was. “And yet, I am not.”

The fire cracked and sparked. Burning, red embers burst from the fireplace, fizzling out just before they singed her cheek. This game was nothing new, but they were both out of pieces.

Itachi pushed himself up by his elbows. It took every ounce of strength he had, but he did it.

“Stop,” she knelt beside him to prevent him from exerting himself. It wasn’t difficult, just a light hand on his chest and he was pinned. “Stop trying to hurt yourself,” she gently chided him. Itachi covered her hand with one of his own. Harmless, black pools met her golden brown ones. He was no longer a threat to her; she had rendered him a declawed cat.

How many times had he been stifled by the ellipsis? It made him feel weak and pathetic to not know what to say or do. Ashamed, because he was powerless to reconcile this conflict- his conflict. He was sick of it. “Asaya, just go.”

Delicately, she brought one hand to cradle his cheek. Asaya conceded to it now- finally allowed herself to. He was not commanding her; he was pleading.

“I’m sorry,” Asaya leaned down and brought her lips to his just long enough for him to return the kiss. Sweetly, earnestly.

She covered his eyes with her palm, and the last thing Itachi felt before falling unconscious was a searing pain he had experienced only once before.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Just after the break of dawn, Banri stood over his stove cooking oatmeal for breakfast. He’d made twice as much as usual and wasn’t sure if it would boil over in the small pot. It didn’t seem like it was going to, so he covered it with a lid and left it to simmer.

He entered his living room with a stiff jaw. Tomoyo, the young woman who had come to his door for shelter last night, lay passed out on his living room floor in front of the fireplace. She must have collapsed from exhaustion sometime in the night. “Good morning,” he called loudly.

Her eyes fluttered awake and she groggily lifted herself from the floor. She blinked at her surroundings, trying to make sense of them. “Good morning,” she said with a puffy squint.

He wouldn’t directly ask for propriety, but she knew he wanted to know. “He’s alive,” she said, her voice strained and thin, “and in stable condition.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Banri gave a small sigh of relief and said, “I made breakfast, if you’re hungry. C’mon.” He waived her to follow him.

Tomoyo took a seat at his small, handmade, birchwood table. “It’s just oatmeal. And eggs and bacon. And some coffee. Nothing fancy,” he poured some oatmeal into a small bowl and set it down in front of her with a plate of crispy bacon and well-cooked scrambled eggs. She thanked him.

He sat down with his own plate and poured a pot of black coffee into each of their mugs. “There’s salt, and butter, and cream,” he pointed to where they were arranged in the center of the table. “I’m out of sugar, though.” Banri ate his breakfast in silence, save for the sound of his silverware occasionally scraping his plate while she stared at the food like someone who wasn’t really hungry but still knew they needed to eat. After a moment, she did pour some cream into her coffee and take a few slow bites of food.

“So, how are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Just very tired.” The puffiness had gone from her eyes, leaving dark circles that enhanced her statement.

“Good.”

“This is delicious, by the way.”

It must’ve been a long time since she’d had a proper meal if she thought unseasoned oatmeal and dry eggs were worth commenting on.

More silence.

Halfway through her bowl of oatmeal, she suddenly said, “He pulled me out of the river. That’s why we were wet.”

Banri arched a brow, “How’d you fall in?”

“I didn’t fall; I jumped.”

His lips pursed, not liking the implication of what she said.

“I wasn’t trying to commit suicide, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she hastily clarified. “I was actually trying to run away from him and that was my only option,” she continued, and Banri couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “He jumped in after me and pulled me out. He collapsed soon after, and all I could do was carry him down the road as quickly as possible and hope to find some sort of shelter. That’s when I found your home. He wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you. I can’t thank you enough.”

She carried him nearly three kilometers in those conditions and shrugged it off same as a rainy spring afternoon? She wasn’t human. But more importantly, “If you were trying to run away from him, why’d you save him?”

“Because he’s not a bad person and he doesn’t deserve to die,” she said, completely sure of herself.

Banri shook his head and rested his forearms on the table, “Alright.” There wasn’t much he could do but keep listening.

“But,” a particular lilt crept into her voice, “I still need to get away from him. I have to. And I’m sorry, but I can’t explain why. I know I’ve already asked a lot of you, but could I please ask you to let him rest here until he recovers? I promise he won’t cause you any trouble and he’ll leave as soon as he is able.”

“Well, I’m not a kidnapper, so I guess I can’t stop you leaving,” Banri said. He almost wished he hadn’t opened his door. “And I’m not going to kick a helpless man out in the cold, so he’ll be fine for now.”

“I wish I could repay you.” She pulled an item from her pocket and placed it on the table. “I have one more favor to ask; could you please give this to him when he wakes up?”

The object was flat and rectangular and wrapped in scraps of the wet shirt Banri had cut off the unconscious man. He knew what it was almost instantly: a hitai-ate. They were shinobi, but from where he didn’t know, just not the Land of Iron. He thought again about calling the authorities. Or, heck, putting on his snow boots and running into town right now. “Interesting trinket you have there,” he said.

“Depends on who you are, I suppose,” was her careful response.

“Is he your enemy?”

“Yes. And a friend.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At some time of day, Itachi lay awake on a small couch in a modest living room in a log cabin. He still felt terrible, but not half as much as last night. Looking out a frosted window, he saw the orange light of sunset glowing through the naked birch trees. He was plenty warm- almost hot- but a small tremor still shook throughout his body. His vision came into focus. “Asaya,” he spoke to the empty spot in front of the fireplace.

“No one here by that name,” a gruff voice spoke from the next room. An older man with a salt-and-pepper beard just as textured as his voice entered the living room. “Glad you’re finally up.”

This was the owner of the house, Itachi inferred. His stiff, aching muscles made it difficult, but he sat up to address the man. The blanket fell to his lap to expose his bare chest, and Itachi remembered he was naked. They had removed his wet clothes to help his body temperature return to normal. Medically, it was the correct thing to do, but he didn’t want to think about it in too much detail. “Who are you?”

The man scoffed at Itachi’s lack of manners, “Ishikawa Banri. This is my home and that’s my couch you’ve been sleeping on.”

“Thank you,” Itachi said, his voice just loud enough to be heard. He wouldn’t offer his name.

“You’re welcome.”

“The woman who brought me here- where is she?” Itachi asked.

“You mean Tomoyo? She took off early this morning. Went into town to get a doctor for you, I think,” Banri answered like he had rehearsed it.

Of course she said her name was Tomoyo, Itachi internally rolled his eyes.

As if hearing Itachi’s unvoiced question, Banri said, “She told me your name was Yuuto. Seems you’re doing better. I didn’t think you’d make it, to be honest.”

“Yeah,” Itachi said noncommittally, “Which way did she go?” Although, if he were being honest with himself, he didn’t have the strength to track her down.

“The road into town heads south of here. She left before I got up this morning, but that’s the way she would’ve gone.”

Asaya undoubtedly had not gone into town to find a doctor. And if she had, she would have left immediately after. Or, at least he hoped so.

“It’s been snowing heavy all day, too,” Banri added, “Hope she made it alright.” What he definitely meant was that Itachi shouldn’t try to follow after her, as her footprints would have been covered. “Anyways, let me get you some new clothes. I had to throw out your old ones, sorry to say.” He went down the hall and returned momentarily with a few articles of clothing.

“Thank you,” Itachi said just above a whisper while taking the clothing, “You’re very generous to let a stranger into your home.” And foolish.

“Don’t mention it,” Banri said with an uncomfortable strain. “Also, she asked me to give you this,” he pulled an item from his back pocket and handed it to Itachi. “I haven’t opened it, but I know what it is.” If the man were being honest, then he didn’t know what mark was on his hitai-ate

Well, shit. Itachi wished the man hadn’t given it back to him- wished Asaya hadn’t asked him to return it. By all means, Itachi should kill this man to ensure this incident remained secret. He’d killed for less, even people who had shown him similar kindness. But he didn’t want to. Asaya wouldn’t have wanted him to, either.

Itachi gripped the cloth-wrapped metal as firmly as his weakened fist could and said, “She didn’t go to fetch a doctor.”

The man bristled, then slowly said, “No, she didn’t.”

Good.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Part I: The Earth Capitol

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“An eye for an eye, Itachi. You took my weapon, now I’ve taken yours.”

The great Earth Capitol consumed the blazing sun as it sank below the horizon. The vermillion light of sunset landed upon Asaya’s wind-chafed cheeks in a palliative, alluring sensation. She breathed in through her open mouth and closed her eyes, her brittle eyelashes crunching against themselves in their frozen state, and the illusory warmth of the tinted light shattered under they icy touch of the atmosphere.

The sight of the Earth Capitol’s famous gateway should have been exciting. She should have sprinted towards it heady and relieved. Instead, the ornamental gateway and its bulwarks towered over her with all the soundness of a mirage. The last of the sunlight danced over the snow-dusted stone and she exhaled a smoky-white puff.

After so many failed escape attempts, this must have been a joke. Asaya had been running for nearly two weeks, alone and away from towns and roadways because she feared being sighted. And she’d had very little food because the winter forest offered little vegetation and she was too afraid to light a fire to roast game. She hadn’t the energy to be excited regardless.

The horizon quickly bled into an indigo twilight. Asaya looked back down the roan she came while dozens of strangers walked past her into the city. She should enter before the gates closed.

Crossing the threshold didn’t feel like any form of deliverance. Bright neon lights covered every inch of wall, clamorously competing with each other for attention in a cacophony of color. Iwa, and the entire part of the northern territory for that matter, was nothing like this. There was no economy of trendy consumer goods, fast fashion, “in” dining, or any other markers of economic prosperity great enough to produce popular culture. Well, at least not on this scale.

In Iwa, no shops played energetic pop music loud enough to be heard outside. No one wore bejeweled acrylic nails and neon eye shadow for fun on a Saturday night. Middle aged men did not carry polished leather briefcases on their rush home from work while periodically checking their conspicuously consumed gold watches. University students did not spend weekend nights drinking until they vomited- there was no university.

Iwa was a military city-state in many ways independent from the country it was founded to protect. It was utilitarian before all else. Many of her and Tsuta’s favorite periodicals and publications had to be special ordered and they would receive them a week or so after they hit stores in other cities. Yet here, the latest editions were sitting on the racks in front of her along with countless other options. Earth Country had a reputation for being old-fashioned and behind the times, but right now she felt closer to any of the foreign cities she’d visited than Iwa.

Night blanketed the earth, and the contrast between a black sky and buzzing neon lights made the city streets even more affrontingly ostentatious: jetting out from the walls, cramping the space between high rises, and bleaching out the stars. It unsettled her to see everything at once but nothing clearly.

The clock in the storefront next to her read 6:30 pm. Well, truthfully it read 6:27, but Asaya always rounded time up to the next number divisible by 5. Perfect. Not only did she not know where any government buildings were, but this late on a weekend they were probably closed.

Eventually, Asaya wandered around long enough to find a koban where she could ask for help. “Um, hello, sir,” she shyly addressed the police officer.

“Hello miss, how can I be of assistance?” The officer was a clean-shaven man in his mid-thirties.

“I was hoping to find Iwagakure embassy, or office of shinobi affairs, or whatever building Iwa operated out of here,” Asaya said, noticing the officer was wearing both a full formal uniform and a crowd control vest. The pristine, white-collared navy uniform paired peculiarly with the reflective neon yellow for a simple neighborhood koban, even if it wasn’t too far from the city gates.

The officer raised a scrutinizing brow, presumably wondering what someone with such a shabby, disheveled appearance would want with Iwa. “The building is located on the west side of the city,” he said. “What business do you have with Iwagakure?”

None of yours, Asaya impulsively thought. She did not have the patience to ignore his suspicion. Sure, she was a short, unimpressive-looking woman in wrinkled, worn clothes, but- whatever. She didn’t have any other proof of her identity. Itachi had made sure to take everything from her, even the metal barrette engraved with Iwa’s symbol that she used in place of a hitai-ate. Maybe she could walk up a wall or conjure a minor jutsu, but that might cause more problems since shinobi activity was prohibited inside the capitol. Or worse, they might charge her with threatening and intimidating a police officer.

Asaya blurted out the first lie she could think of: “I’m in town visiting my sister who just got a secretarial job there, so I was going to visit her after work.” She could have rolled her eyes at the stupidity of her own lie.

 “They wouldn’t be open today, unfortunately. All non-essential government offices are closed for the parade tonight.”

“The parade?” Asaya asked confused. New years was weeks ago.

The officer tried to maintain a professional, neutral expression, but he couldn’t quite hide his disbelief at her obliviousness. “The parade celebrating the birth of the Emperor’s first son. It will be starting in about an hour on the main street of the Imperial City.”

“Oh, right,” Asaya said as if it were a fact she had simply forgotten. That explained his unusual uniform combination. “In that case, could I just get a map of the city, please?”

“Yes, here you are,” he pulled a pamphlet from a nearby rack and handed it to her. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No, thank you, sir,” she thanked him and exited.

Great. Fucking great. Her feet practically dragged across the stone-paved streets. Her most obvious choice for help wasn’t available. She had climbed mountains, crossed oceans, and walked countless miles in all weather and climates, but this- this was just upsetting. Stupid imperial family, she thought.

Asaya quickly opened the map when an idea struck her. There was only one exception to the to the city’s prohibition on active-duty shinobi: the Imperial Guard. How could she have forgotten?

But how was she supposed to go about approaching them? Stroll up the gates of the Imperial Palace and say, “I have no proof of identity, but I’m an Iwa kunoichi, so could you just let me in so I can speak to the captain of the guard? I swear I’m not trying to assassinate the emperor.” They would immediately throw her in confinement for interrogation.

Although, there was one person in the Imperial Guard who could identify her. The idea of seeing him again made her nervous, but she had no choice. She hurried toward the main street leading towards the Imperial Gates.

“Mahjong!” an Iwa shinobi declared while revealing his winning hand on a baize game table.

Three other shinobi resentfully groaned in union.

“Dammit, Tetsuya,” one of them said. “One day I’ll figure out how you build hands like that outta nowhere.”

“Beats me. Luck is my only real skill in life,” Tetsuya answered with an excited grin. None of his colleagues appeared amused. “Alright, alright,” he continued, “How about I promise not to win next time?”

The three shinobi rolled their eyes while cleaning up the ornate white tiles. The most senior officer stamped out his cigarette in a clear glass ashtray then gave Tetsuya a pat on the back and said, “Well, enjoy your night off, kid. Try and enjoy the festivities for the rest of us, will you?”

Tetsuya raised his hand to his forehead in mock-salute, “Mission accepted, sir!”

The Earth Capitol glowed with the intensity of a million birthday candles in a dark room. Normally when Itachi and Kisame walked the streets of any place, people avoided them and kept their distance, but tonight the streets were so crowded that that it was difficult to walk a straight line.

“You’re sure she’ll be here?” a doubtful Kisame grumbled.

“I’m sure of it,” Itachi replied. “The capitol is the easier location to reach, even though it’s the farther distance.” Asaya wouldn’t have taken the obvious choice of heading towards Iwa because it would have made her easier to track down and catch. She was smart enough to know that.

“If you say so,” Kisame shrugged.

This was, however, ultimately just a speculation on Itachi’s part that she would have fled here. He could argue in circles about why he thought so, but he had no evidence other than his knowledge of her personality and behavioral patterns. Taking the obvious choice was unlike her, even if it were more pragmatic.

And besides, Sasori and Deidara had been sent towards Iwa to find her. Sasori was cunning enough to detain her, and while Deidara was a fool, his ability to fly and surveil large areas with his scope was particularly useful. Kakuzu and his partner were also sent after her, but Itachi hoped he of all people didn’t find her.

“How do you suggest we find her in this crowd, eh? Ask if anyone’s seen a cow?

What an asinine thing to say. “If you would like, you are more than welcome to try,” Itachi said flatly.

Kisame did not respond.

“The first place she would seek is the safety of other Iwa shinobi,” Itachi continued. “Like many countries, Earth does not allow and active shinobi presence within its capitol city. With one exception: the Imperial guard.

“Okay, but what if she already got there?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Itachi continued walking down the main street of the city, where a parade had just begun. “We’ll find another way.”

Bang! A firework erupted overhead.

Asaya slowed to a near halt when she arrived at the crowded main street leading to the Imperial Palace. She jumped up to look over the crowd of people, and she could see the gates up ahead. This was such a stupid idea, she thought. She was going to cause a scene, the emperor was going to get mad at Iwa for her behavior, then a bunch of people who out ranked her were going to yell at her regardless of the circumstances just because it would make them feel better. Ugh, fucking bureaucratic hierarchies.

As she walked, she studied the clothing of her fellow countrymen. Many of these styles were almost alien to her, not quite like anything she had seen in other countries but certainly not like the uniforms she was so used to seeing in Iwa. Perhaps, then, her clothing looked alien to them. The citizens wore a range of clothing styles, but it was all nice enough for a special event, even if it was semi-casual. Some, particularly women and children, wore more traditional garb, but it usually had a contemporary print or pattern. Asaya had never much liked kimono, but these looked appealing to wear.

Children waived sparklers and chased one another while wearing cartoonish masks. Others the dancers, musicians, and performers marching down the center of the street. Parents of small children would list them up and point out notable things so that they might be entertained. Sroups of adolescents and adults chatted about things Asaya could not hear. Many purchased delicious-looking street food from vendors, making her stomach rumble in frustration. A few young couples dared to hold hands.

Bang! A firework erupted overhead.

Asaya studied every aspect and detail of the people around her until she froze at the sight of an unforgettable black and red some yards up ahead, and she audibly gasped. She thought they would have chased her towards Iwa, not the capitol.

Itachi turned his black eye in her direction and their eyes momentarily locked. She panicked when they turned red and she unapologeticly shoved the person behind to her out of the way to run towards the Imperial city.

Itachi saw her. Even from the corner of his eye he knew it was her. He furtively activated his sharingan to double check her chakra, but otherwise made no indication he had seen her. It didn’t work, though.

Kisame sharply inhaled through his nose, the gills on his cheeks excitedly flaring. “Prey.”

Tetsuya strolled down the main street, savoring his hard-won night off. He didn’t have any particular plans, but he enjoyed the lively and festive atmosphere. It was a nice break from the everyday norm of standing rigidly behind a member of the imperial family while they discussed tax revenue, foreign and domestic policy, or whatever insignificant opinions they had on what they ate for lunch.

Bang! A firework erupted overhead.

Tetsuya stopped on a corner to look up at the off-white face of a historic clocktower. It’s spidery, ironwork hands read 7:45 pm. The firework finale was scheduled to start soon over the gigantic gates to that were opened to give a rare view of the Imperial Palace to the public for this special occasion. He should find a good spot to watch. At 6’1”, Tetsuya comfortably stood a head taller than most people in Earth country, so it wasn’t difficult for him to see over the crowd. Still, he felt bad about obstructing the view of anyone standing behind him, so he preferred to stand in front of lampposts or signs or other architectural features.

“Ah,” he gasped when something suddenly slammed into his back.

“I’m so sorry!” a young woman exclaimed.

“Not at all,” Tetsuya turned around. “Asaya?!”

They stared at one another in speechless bewilderment.

“Tetsu-“ she choked, shaking her head. “I need to run, now.”

Behind her, he saw two black and red clad figures quickly approaching. “Down the alley on the left up ahead. Then climb to the top of the blue roofed building and run straight for the gates.” He grabbed her shoulders to push her ahead. “Go!”

They dashed through the crowed, into the alley, then scaled the wall of a five-story building to run across the blue tiled roof then leapt across the gap to the roof of the next building. The crowd below audibly gasped, and seconds later Kisame appeared on the roof just meters behind them, having completely disregarded any sense of discretion.

“Keep running!” Tetsuya yelled after Kisame closed half the distance between them with a swing of his sword, the clay tiles shattering under the force of its impact.

Tetsuya pivoted on his heel to turn back, “I’ll stop him, keep running.”

“There’s another one, maybe more,” Asaya said. “You can’t take them both.”

Itachi appeared at the far end of the roof, red eyes spinning aflame.

 Tetsuya stepped in front of Asaya, blocking her from view. “Which one can you outrun?” he asked. She was in no condition to fight.

Asaya hesitated for a moment, debating her options. She placed a hand on his arm. “Look, Tetsuya-“

“Which one?” he insisted, calm but forceful.

Her small hand tightened nervously. Neither, she thought. “The black-haired one.”

As soon as she spoke, Tetsuya lunged at Kisame.

An unknown shinobi obstructed Asaya from Itachi’s view. Asaya’s small fingers wrapped around the man’s arm, indicating some level of familiarity between the two. Itachi did not know who this new man was, but instinct told him this wasn’t someone to dismiss lightly.

The shinobi appeared to say something to her, then he lunged at Kisame. Asaya was already jumping across to the next roof and running towards the palace gates. Itachi sprinted after her.

Countless rockets screeched as they flew towards the sky before erupting into a dazzling firework display. The palace gates were so close, but could she run fast enough? Ceramic tiles clattered under Asaya’s feet. Her calves felt like they were disintegrating more and more each time they pushed off the ground, and her dry lungs barely inhaled enough oxygen.

Drums, music, cheering, and all manner of noises were squelched into silence when an arm encircled her waist like a lasso around a horse’s neck.

“No!” her voice came out a strangled cry and she thrashed uselessly in his arms, “Let me go!”

“I’m not going to hurt you!” Itachi shouted back at her.

She glared at him like a caged tiger- desperate, violent, poised to strike or flee at the first chance. Liar! she said without speaking.

“Asaya,” Itachi called her name earnestly. Another firework ruptured just overhead. Reaching into his cloak, he pulled out an object and pressed it into her hand with a soft rattle. A string of small, porcelain beads entwined itself around her fingers, finally reunited with its owner.

“‘An eye for an eye,’ remember?” Itachi let go of her wrist.

Sparks of white, gold, blue, red, and all manner of scintillating colors ephemerally burst above them, twinkling brilliantly against the night sky before crackling and fading into nothing, as if all the stars were dying as they fell.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Part II: The Imperial City

~*~*~*~*~*~

Asaya combed her fingers through her wet hair. Her whole body had never felt so clean. The last time she’d bathed was, well, some time ago. She had been permitted to take a shower and was provided with a fresh change of clothes. Just a spare cotton shirt and grey sweatpants, but they were soft and comfortable and clean.

She sat in the Imperial Guard’s break room waiting to speak with the captain. Luckily, Tetsuya had vouched for her and they didn’t give her too much resistance.  The AC unit quietly whirred while one fluorescent light in the back corner flickered dimly every few minutes. This was a surprisingly modern interior design for something located in the Imperial City, Asaya thought. Not necessarily pretty, just modern. She thought it would have matched the traditional architecture, but no. It was just a regular, utilitarian break room.

“So, how did you get away?” Tetsuya asked out of a compulsion to break the silence. The question felt dumb as soon as he said it, but it was too late to shove it back in his mouth.

“Luck,” she shrugged, “It’s the only thing I’m good at.” Itachi could have taken her if he’d wanted, easily. She had been exhausted and unable to fight, not that he wasn’t stronger than her anyway, and he was no longer disadvantaged by the loss of his sharingan. A decision she did not regret then and now but certainly had in that specific moment.

Massaging the string of beads between her fingers, she contemplated their weight. They had been separated from her for so long that they felt surreally heavy around her wrist. Or not heavy, they didn’t weight all that much, but the sensation of them was newly noticeable. She had worn them every day for years now. It was perplexing that she didn’t realize she’d forgotten their sensation when she had once become so used to them she didn’t feel them at all. How they had been a part of her for so long and yet she had adjusted to them being gone so quickly.

“‘Just go,’” Asaya remembered. That night had left her dazed and conflicted. Maybe even a little ashamed. In the end, though, she would never see him again.

She reminded herself that she had finally escaped from them. She had succeeded. She would be back in Iwa soon. And she would never know the answer.

Tetsuya watched Asaya recede into herself. He should have realized that she’d been through a lot and wouldn’t want to talk about it. All things considered, she may not be that excited to see him again. “Would you like some tea?” he offered.

“Thanks, but don’t trouble yourself just for me,” she said but he had already walked over to the cabinets and pulled out two mugs. It felt awkward to accept his kindness. Kindness he didn’t need to offer her. Kindness she had no business accepting.

“Nonsense,” he said after flicking on the kettle. “It’s the least I can do. And besides, it will take a while for my captain to get here,” he said. He would have mentioned something about how she looked tired, but she’d probably take offence. Well, she wouldn’t be offended per se, but it would make her feel self-conscious.

He poured some hot water into two mugs and tore open two tea sachets and placed one in each. “I know it’s not what you like, but it’s all we’ve got at the moment,” he said handing her a hot mug. “Careful.”

Asaya hesitated but took the objecty anyway. Why did he have to be such a nice, considerate person? “I like all kinds of tea,” she said while bobbing the teabag in the hot water. ‘Bergamot’ read the paper tag. Ew.

“That’s not true,” he said with a knowing look.

“I’m not a snob,” she whispered back.

“I’m not implying that. I just know that you don’t actually like everything all the time, even when you say otherwise.” He smirked and added, “So, if anything, I’m calling you a liar, not a snob.”

Tetsuya was too attentive. Asaya tried to take a sip of tea to spite him, but the hot ceramic scalded her lip and she winced.

“See?”

“No, it’s just- never mind,” she relented, placing the mug back on the table with a light tap.

The AC unit whirred in the newfound silence.

“Anyway, you know,” Tetsuya began, “everyone will be happy to know you’re alive.” Everyone. Right.

How was she meant to reply to that? “It will be nice to see everyone again, too.” Who even was ‘everyone,’ anyway? Her landlord? The girls she’d grown up with in the kunoichi conscript boarding house, none of whom she’d spoken with since moving out? The other shinobi in her division, who she avoided by eating lunch two hours after everyone else? Or did he mean his family, the Tsuchikage’s family, to whom she was only a tolerable curiosity?

That smile. Tetsuya recognized that sickeningly pleasant smile she gave whenever obliged. He sighed. Sitting adjacent to her now, he felt that he might as well be sitting at the other end of the table. “Tsuta will be happy-” right, Tsuta was who he was talking about- “My aunt said that he wasn’t getting on too well.”

“She always says there’s something wrong with Tsuta,” she said, irked. “He’s not made of glass.”

“I’m not saying that; I’m saying he was sad his friend disappeared.”

“Right, sorry,” Asaya vaguely relented, intently staring at her fidgeting fingers. Half of her wanted to talk with Tetsuya and the other half didn’t, but none of her knew what to say.

Tetsuya tried drink his tea only to discover that it was, in fact, too hot. “Ow,” he jolted and nearly spilled its contents. “Damn, you weren’t kidding.”

Asaya smirked. “I told you. That’s what happens when you don’t believe me,” she teased him.

“I’m so glad my suffering amuses you.”

“Oh, always.” She tapped her nails on the outer ceramic wall of her mug. Hers had cooled to a potable temperature, but then she reread the tag and grimaced.

“Something not to your liking?” Tetsuya asked taking note of her reaction.

Asaya bashfully asked, “Do you think we could make coffee instead?”

A little girl sat at the top of a staircase squeezing her face through the handrail with both tiny hands curled around the white bars. Although small, she could not fit her whole head through the narrow gap, so the wooden bars pinched her cheekbones as she pressed into them.

The front door screeched open and slammed shut when a man and a young boy entered.

“Welcome home,” called a feminine voice from the kitchen. A woman in her mid-thirties walked down the hall while wringing her hands on a yellow and pink floral apron. “Did you catch anything?” She asked with a docile tone.

The man threw a metal trap on the entryway table where it wrinkled and table runner and dented the wood. The heavy thump echoed down the hall and up the stairs.

“Not one thing,” he said.

The smile on the woman’s face disappeared. She clasped her hands together and stiffened her shoulders.

“Damn thing chewed its own foot off,” the man growled and held up a white, blood-stained paw. A jagged piece of bone stuck out of one end and the mangled toes dangled limply at the other. He threw it on the table with the metal trap.

The woman’s lips curled down in disgust. The boy froze his expression, but his eyes widened just a bit.

The man kicked off his snow-crusted boots and dropped his thick winter coat on the entryway floor. He stomped down the hallway yelling, “Fucking thing’s still gonna die! Might as well’ve let us skin it.”

The woman stood ridged until another door slammed and his footsteps disappeared. Then, she turned to the boy and ordered in a hushed tone, “Get rid of that thing, will you?”

The boy nodded and quickly grabbed both the trap and paw and exited through the front door. It opened and closed with only the sound of the metal spring gently expanding and contracting.

Placing a hand on her hip and scratching the back of her head with another, the woman sighed in frustration. She knelt down to arrange the boots in their proper place next to the door and picked up the heavy coat to hang it in the closet. Turning around, the woman spotted the little girl at the top of the stairs, her little hands still gripping the bars.

 “What do you think you’re doing?” the woman lashed out. “I’ve told you; you’ll break the railing!”

The little girl lurched back and scrambled away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This far into the Land of Iron, a land completely covered in snow for two thirds of the year, crickets didn’t chirp, nor did mosquitoes buzz around hungry for blood, nor did moths suicidally fly into campfires. Barely weeks ago, they were much farther south near the ocean, where winter was only a cool breeze. The insects were an unrelenting annoyance, but at least it hadn’t been freezing.

Just a few meters from him, Asaya slept huddled in a thick sleeping bag. She huffed and complained about how much she hated the cold, too, but she never seemed to be affected by it like he was. She fell asleep just fine, and she rarely wore fingered gloves. Or a scarf or a hat. It did not make sense to him that she complained about the cold yet stripped down to a shirt and pants and complained about overheating as soon as she began any sort of physical activity.

They would meet Kisame at the rendezvous location tomorrow or the next day in a small town some kilometers away. They had been separated when the castle they had infiltrated went up in flames. Itachi anticipated arriving sometime tomorrow evening if the weather didn’t worsen. The snow had certainly slowed them down, because they should have been there yesterday.

The campfire was slowly dwindling into a pile of inert coal; only a dim heat reached his face to warm it. He debated throwing another log on top, but the conservative part of him said he should wait just a bit longer. He only had a few more dry logs and didn’t want to run out in the coldest part of the night. He also didn’t like how bright fires attracted unwanted attention.

Itachi coughed after accidentally inhaling too much smoke and cold air at once. He had spent the better part of his life travelling long distances in short periods of time and training for extreme climates. He should have adjusted from the temperate climate they had left, but it was just too easy to get used to warmth- too enticing, too familiar. He couldn’t control it.

In the perimeter of his vision, Asaya suddenly reeled up. Disoriented, she rubbed her eyes and blinked while filling her lungs with deep, heavy breaths. She shied away from the fire and tucked her legs to her chest. She buried her head in one arm. Oddly still, she left the other arm to stick out over her knee. An ivory hand seemed to float in front of her, as if detached from the rest of her body. Her fingers dangled limply in between shadows and patchy moonlight filtering through dormant branches, making her joints look unnaturally configured. It hung there until she abruptly flexed it in and out of a fist, as if willing it back to life.

She lifted her head with a sigh and looked up at the clear sky. “I never imagined any of this would happen.”

Itachi said nothing, but raised a brow.

“I mean, I just thought my life would always be more boring that this,” she said, thinking she was elaborating.

Blinking slowly, Itachi said, “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, I just-“ Asaya fumbled over her words. “I always thought I’d spend every day of my life in an office in village HQ doing some internal task or function. I never thought I’d step outside Iwa or Earth Country, let alone travel halfway across the world.”

“Getting kidnapped does appear to have solved that problem,” Itachi said dryly.

Amusement curled into Asaya’s lips, “That’s my point; I never thought I’d get kidnapped.” Then she frowned. “I wasn’t even supposed to be at that stupid event,” she murmured. “I did most of my work inside walls, not dispatched on mission where I would ever see combat. And on a technical level, I like the type of work I do; it’s the only thing I think I’m not half bad at. I honestly wonder why I’m combat trained at all. It certainly didn’t help me when I met you.” Asaya blushed when Itachi smirked at her joke.

“Fate’s fond of irony,” Itachi remarked, then said with a different tone, like one might use if asking a question, “You could have just been a civilian, if that’s what you’d wanted.”

“Yeah, I guess I could have,” Asaya said noncommittally. “You were born into a clan, weren’t you? And a prestigious one, I’d guess.”

“Correct,” he answered with a nod.

“And even if it hadn’t been a clan, you were still born a man in a city with lots of economic opportunities,” she waived her wrist fancifully, mockingly, “right?”

Itachi realized what she was implying. “You said you were from a clan, too.”

“I lied,” she shrugged. “Not belonging to a clan is something to be looked down on for, so it’s easier to lie.”

“Then what’s the truth?”

“I was conscripted as a child. I was actually born on a farm somewhere in the northwestern territories of Earth Country,” she answered.

Itachi scrunched his brows, not quite able to believe it. “What kind of farm?”

“Moo.”

Itachi bit his tongue and looked away to suppress an amused laugh. “I should have known.”

Asaya rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “Yeah, well, I don’t like the war industrial complex, the systemic corruption and exploitation, or just the idea that we do such atrocious things to benefit a handful of rich, old men, but I like whatever life I had I Iwa better than I’d like being the illiterate, helpless wife of an angry alcoholic in a corner of the world no one even bothers to map,” she confessed quietly with eyes unfocused on the trees. “In a perversely ironic way, Iwa saved my life.” With a single index finger over her lips, she whispered, “Keep it a secret for me, please. I’ve lived most of my life in Iwa, but my life before that isn’t something I’m proud of.”

“I understand.” It was strange for Itachi to hear, as someone who was born into the violence and had only known the suffering it caused the people caught in it, to consider that it improved someone’s quality of life. And it was additionally surprising to hear from Asaya because she somehow remained very critical of the village system despite having benefitted from it. It was rare for someone to bite the hand that fed them.

Shinobi who were born outside the village were uncommon, but not unheard of. One of the more common scenarios was for the village to draft children it deemed fit for service, where they would then be taken from their families and thrown into an institutional orphanage and boarding school. The practice was most common after a war to help the village recover numbers more than anything else. Asaya was the right age for that to have been the case in the last great war between Iwa and Konoha.

The families thought it was a great honor to have their child chosen, even though it meant they would probably never have any form of contact ever again- not even a death notice. They were proud to sacrifice their child for a greater purpose. Most of the drafted children were given lesser training and assigned work considered beneath village insiders or anyone from an established shinobi clan, then they were conveniently discarded on the front lines in the next war. Or, Itachi revised his thinking, maybe the families were just happy to be rid of an unwanted child.

“I considered myself privileged, actually,” Asaya continued, “that I could stay hidden away in the recesses of Iwa’s towers while so many others suffered and died.” She grimaced, “Pretending I had nothing to do with it. All I ever saw were names on a register. The village system is a farce: nothing more than a malignant cycle of justifying itself as ‘peacekeeper’ while simultaneously creating the threats from which the country needs to be defended.”

“But anyway,” she shrugged away her heavy words, “how about you?”

The question caught Itachi off guard. “What about me?”

“I mean, why are you in the Akatsuki? You’re incredibly talented, so you probably had a really good life ahead of you in Konoha. Why leave just to do essentially the same thing as a criminal?” Asaya enquired.

The curious expression, the quizzical tilt of her head- did she genuinely not know? Thinking back, she had never indicated she knew anything about his past, other than the obvious fact he was ex-Konoha.

Suddenly, Itachi was not so resolved. He thought he had become immune to the judgement and shame attached to his name, to his infamy. He thought that he had reconciled with the consequences of his actions. But now, in front of this person who had been so nesciently, so innocently kind to him, he faltered.

Something in his expression must have darkened, because she said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ask something intrusive.”

How empathetically shrewd, Itachi thought. She didn’t belong here, didn’t deserve to be. “‘Essentially the same thing,’ were your words, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Because I know it’s all an absurd lie, too,” he whispered as if trusting her with a horrible secret.

Asaya’s breath caught in her throat and she looked down at her open palms resting in her lap. She formed her left hand into a fist then brought it to her chest. A dense puff of warm air dissipated from her lips as steam in the clear, frozen night. She appeared conflicted and nervous to Itachi, as if there were something she wanted to say or do but she hadn’t the courage.

She decided to stand up then, and the snow crunched under her feet as she walked toward him. “Tell me about Konoha,” she asked, taking a seat next to him in front of the fire. “Does it snow there?”

The weather, he thought. She must have wanted to change their discussion topic, lighten the mood. “Sometimes, but not like this. Maybe a centimeter or two at a time, but it always melts within a day.”

Her lips curled into a meek smile. “I always thought of Konaha as existing in a sort of perpetual spring- that the trees are green and lush all year.”

“Autumn and winter are short by comparison, but they happen the same as anywhere else. Fire Country has a festival for viewing the foliage during the harvest moon, actually.”

Asaya hummed, studying his profile in the firelight. “How beautiful.”

“Iwa has it’s charms,” Itachi glanced at her over his shoulder.

Her cheeks seemed to flush. “Sure, dirt and rocks are very charming,” she said sarcastically. “I shouldn’t be so harsh, though. In the morning, the mist drifts through the rock formations, and in the soft light it’s quite lovely.” She paused a moment before adding, “The valley where I was born, though, was full of rocky hills covered in grass. Well, when it wasn’t covered in snow, that is. The mountains were filled with tall pines, and they looked so magnificent in the distance. I remember trying to reach them and getting lost after dark, and my older brother would come find me before we got in trouble.” Her words were wistful, but tinged with bitterness.

“You have siblings?” This was the first time Itachi had ever heard her speak of her family in detail.

“I was the second oldest of four,” she stressed the past tense. “He used to tell me the grizzly bears and snow leopards would eat me if went too far, but I was too little to care,” she sheepishly said. “I kept running away anyway.”

Itachi lowered his head, “We don’t understand danger or consequences as children like we do as adults.”

“I was also just stubborn. I wanted to prove him wrong for telling me what to do.” She shook her head, “But I don’t even remember his name anymore. Do you have siblings?"

After a moment of deliberation, Itachi answered quietly, “I have a younger brother.” He should have lied.

“I see. I'm not surprised you're an older sibling,” she said.

“He was stubborn, too. He followed me on mission once, even though I told him not to.” Itachi was surprised he said it so openly. “A wild boar had been attacking a farming village and I had been sent to eliminate it. He shouldn’t have, but he followed me anyway.” Itachi’s brow softened.

“Sounds like he really wanted to impress you,” Asaya said.

“Maybe.” The corner of Itachi’s mouth twitched upward for split second.

“Well?” she prompted.

“‘Well’ what?”

“What happened? Did you kill the boar, or did you have to abandon mission to bring him home?” she asked.

“We killed the boar together, then I brought him back home. It wasn’t a difficult mission, so I let him help,” Itachi explained.

“Did you tell anyone he followed you?”

“No, no one. Not even in the final report.”

“Lucky kid to have you look out for him,” Asaya grinned.

Itachi dismissively shook his head.

She seemed to ponder something for a moment, looking at him with what he could only call pity, before finally saying, “It can be difficult, sometimes, to be separated from your loved ones.”

Itachi snapped his eyes back to hers like a rabbit caught under a flashlight. “I imagine it must be difficult to live alone in a place like Iwa.”

“That’s not- never mind,” she sighed.

“You, however,” Itachi continued, “don’t seem to mind.”

“No, not at all,” Asaya said impassively.

She looked uncomfortable, balling both fists together and tucking them close to her chest. A short, frigid breeze cut through the night and a million tiny, crystalline snowflakes sparkled and flurried around them. Itachi leaned forward to grab a log and toss it on the fire.

“Itachi,” Asaya called his name with a soft, doleful voice.

He turned to look at her, but her left hand reached out to cover his eyes before he could say a word. An acute, searing pain flared in them, as if every ocular nerve were being shredded by her chakra. He fell over and collapsed into the snow, struggling to open his eyes. “What-,” he winced, “what did you do?”

The crunch of the snow told him she stood up. “An eye for an eye, Itachi. You took my weapon, now I’ve taken yours.”

Itachi propped himself up onto one arm and forced his eyes open. “Agh!” he cried out after instinctively trying to activate his sharingan only to experience more blinding pain. He heard her take a few steps away from him, “I can still outrun you,” he warned her through grit teeth.

“I don’t have to run faster than you- not if I have enough of a lead. I just have to run farther. I know I can do that.”

Crunch, crunch, crunch... Her footsteps disappeared into the snowy night.

The last of autumn’s leaves scattered as a crisp wind raced over dry, dormant grass. Itachi pulled a wrinkled manila envelope from his cloak. He opened it to find only two pieces of paper. The first was a grainy, black-and-white copy of a photograph of a young woman. It was copied off center, its borders incongruous to the edges of the A4 office paper. Someone had run it through a mechanical typewriter to write the woman’s name and a physical description across the bottom. Overall, it was crude, careless work.

The second paper contained more information about the woman and Instructions to abduct her and detain her until further notice. It even provided a specific date, time, and location on which to do so. The abandoned torii gate on the eastern ridge of Ringeoin Temple in northeastern Earth Country, it read. What luck; someone had done the research for him.

“What’s the nest assignment?” Kisame asked.

“Earth Country. To abduct and detain a kunoichi,” Itachi said,

“Is she in Iwa? I don’t want to have to infiltrate major village.”

“No, she will be at Ringeoin Temple in a fortnight, quite a distance from Iwa and close to the northeastern border.”

“Ah, good,” Kisame answered. “Who is she?”

Itachi read through the papers. It was a young woman about his age. He stared perplexed at the kanji of her name. The surname was literal enough- Kagami- but the given name was a puzzle. The kanji combination made no sense in the context of a name. He thought for a while before deciding that it must be a pretentious spelling of Tomoyo.

“A Kagami Tomoyo, it appears. A jonin. Supposedly a midrange fighter with excellent chakra control and a specialty in techniques with a large area of damage.” Other than that, the document didn’t say much.

“Ah, well,” was all Kisame said. It made no real difference to him. There weren’t many shinobi who could give him a real challenge.

Itachi tucked the papers back into his cloak. Earth Country was a pain to traverse because the steep mountain ranges meant there were fewer roads with longer distances between regions and the extra effort required to ascend mountains made it take at least twice as much time to cover the same distance than required in any other country. However, the isolation the mountains provided made it much easier to remain undetected. It was a doubled edged sword.

But then it didn’t really matter what he thought, did it? He was given an assignment, he’d complete it, and that would be the end.

Asaya sat near the back of a large auditorium in one of numerous rows of people all listening to the same speaker at the podium on the stage at the front of the room. She was too far back to see them, but the sound system made it impossible not to hear them. A single string sprung from the hem of her blue kimono sleeve, and she had to resist the urge to pull it. She’d unravel the whole garment if she started.

She resented being sent to this event. She hated social gatherings and she especially hated public relations and networking. And she wasn’t even supposed to be here in the first place, because her position as a fuinjutsu specialist prevented her from leaving the village since it was too much of a security risk. She was just a last-minute substitute for someone else who couldn’t make it, someone much more important than her. She certainly wouldn’t have chosen to sit through boring, long-winded speeches for the purpose of “promoting goodwill” between Iwa and the rest of Earth Country’s many territories.

This was definitely another scheme concocted by the Tsuchikage and his family. Another one of the annoying manipulations they threw at her. This wasn’t a Yakuza-style threat where she had to worry about her apartment being set on fire or her kneecaps being broken. No, this was the corrupt, underhanded tactics of politicians and rich people. Of which the Tsuchikage’s family was not uncoincidentally both.

Applause erupted through the room when the mayor of the local city concluded his speech with a generic statement of gratitude for the “prosperous” relationship between the people of the region, the ninja of Iwagakure, and the empire of Earth Country. Asaya clapped her hands with everyone else, patting the fingers of one hand into the palm of the other. A string of white beads wrapped around her left wrist jostled and clinked, but even though they were only a foot from her ears their noise was squelched by the din.

Ostensibly, she was there as a representative of her master, Madame Fukurou, who was the most senior member of Iwa’s Grand Council. “Senior” in both time served and age. Fukurou was probably the oldest person ever in the history of the village, if not the country. She was so old there were no records of her birth. Her age was only an estimation, but she was old enough to have been active during the First Great Shinobi War. However, Oonoki, the Tsuchikage, could have sent someone else if he’d wanted, at least someone better at networking and public relations than her.  He only sent her because he was giving her an “opportunity” in exchange for ingratiating her to his family. She was kind of surprised one of his bachelor grandsons wasn’t personally escorting her.

She wanted nothing to do with any of this, but she was already caught in their web. All she could do was try not to get tangled further. She tapped one finger on her knee while checking the itinerary pamphlet. All that was left were the concluding statements and then there would be a reception. Ugh.

~*~*~*~

The reception was held in a different hall, where all the guests freely went about socializing with one another, mixing and mingling in small groups. Under the high, coffered ceiling, Asaya felt small and adrift in a sea of strangers. She was bad at small talk to begin with, and even worse at networking, but everyone here outclassed her. They were all bureaucrats, public officials, businessmen, or other titled social elite. She was just a title-less kunoichi. Maybe that was a neat novelty to them, but that’s all. Why would they waste their time with her when they could talk to someone in a position of power and influence instead?

Yet, there were only so many times she could walk around the room before it felt weird not to be conversing with someone. Maybe she should just suck it up and deal. She’d get in trouble if-

“Kagami,” someone addressed her from behind her back.

She turned around to see Sanmyaku Isamu, Iwa’s chief representative for this event and the Tsuchikage’s second son.

“Yes, sir,” she addressed him with a small bow.

“You seem rather withdrawn this evening,” he stated.

Embarrassed, Asaya stuttered, “Oh, no, sir.” This was the real challenge: appearing happy and enthusiastic because she’d leave a bad impression for smiling less that 100% of the time. “It’s just, well-“ she couldn’t think of an excuse- “It’s just so exciting to be here.”

Isamu raised an incredulous brow, “Kagami.”

Asaya could tell by the stiffness of his bearded jaw that she was about to be chastised.

But instead, he clasped his hands behind his back and said, “If you would like, you can take a break for a little while. I understand engagements like this are not your strong suit.”

Ouch. “My apologies, sir, I didn’t mean to be a disappointment. I’ll-”

He raised a hand to quiet her. “It’s alright, don’t worry.” He furtively glanced around the room before discreetly saying, “These people are all a bit snobbish, don’t you think? They don’t notice you now, so they won’t notice if you disappear.”

Not that Sanmyaku Isamu was known for being tactful, but Asaya honestly couldn’t tell if he was trying to be nice, or trying to be nice about expressing disappointment, or what. His words sounded more flat than empathetic, but she’d known him long enough to know that this was his way of letting someone off easy.

“If you exit through the door over there,” he gestured over his left shoulder, “there is a pathway that leads along the mountain side to a torii gate that overlooks the mountains. It’s a bit of a hike, but it has wonderful views. Why don’t you go watch and just come back in an hour or so for the closing ceremonies?”

Either way, he was definitely telling her to leave, however nicely he was going about it. He probably thought she’d make an idiot of herself- and by extension Iwa- if she spoke to anyone. “Yes, sir,” she nodded and turned the way he had gestured. But before walking away she awkwardly added, “Thank you.”

Isamu straightened, apparently bristling at the thought of an acknowledgement he was showing a subordinate kindness. “You’re welcome,” he said, and it felt subtly constrained to her, but she dismissed it as a symptom of his conservative disposition.

“Geez,” Kisame groaned. He and Itachi had been waiting for their target for a while. The sun setting over the ridge cast long, dark shadows down the side of the mountain where they lay hidden.

“This all seems a bit too easy to me. You sure she’ll be here?” Kisame said, restless.

“It’s what our orders said. Even if she doesn’t appear, it’s not our problem if we were given false information,” Itachi answered plainly. “If she doesn’t show we’ll track her down the usual way. This wouldn’t be the first time we were given a false lead.”

Another few minutes ticked by, until a black silhouette appeared jogging across the top of the ridge towards the torii gate. The distance and glare from the sunset made it difficult to see the figure clearly, but it had to be their target.

“Kisame, look,” Itachi said.

The shark-man shaded his eyes with one hand and looked in the direction his partner was. “Just in time,” he said.

“Approach from the stairway up the mountainside over there,” Itachi instructed, “I’ll approach from behind if necessary.”

“Alright then.” Kisame slung Samehada over his shoulder.

Asaya picked up a jog as soon as she saw the large torii gate at the end of the pathway. Her footsteps made a distinct crunching sound as her formal shoes tread over the gravel.

The torii gate was a large, wooden structure that had once been painted solid bright red, but now large amounts of paint had peeled away to expose the wood after many years of neglect, and the paint that still clung to the structure was sun bleached and dull. Wood construction like this was the norm in most parts of the world, but here in Earth Country, most torii gates were made of stone because wood, especially large pieces like the ones used here, were very expensive.

What a strange thing to abandon such a valuable object on the mountainside. Even if this location was abandoned, she would have thought that the raw materials would have been worth reutilizing.

Reaching behind her head, she unclipped the silver barrette that pinned her hair into a simple bun and massaged her fingers through her scalp. The barrette was a simple metal plate engraved with Iwa’s symbol that she used in lieu of a hitai-ate, which were just obnoxious and gaudy in her opinion. A barrette was much more discreet, elegant, and even functional. She tucked it into the breast of her kimono and let her long, light brown hair fall freely down her shoulders and back.

Walking under the torii gate, she looked up at its ornamentation. A metal gakuzuka hung high in the center of the top two parallel bars, but the bronze, too, was worn by the elements and a green patina had oxidized over much of its surface making the inscription illegible.

Asaya delicately ran her hand over the exposed wood of one of the pillars, surprised to find it felt smooth instead of rough and splintery. It made sense, she thought, that in a dry, airy climate it would have been sanded down by fine particulates carried by the wind rushing between mountains. Outstretched, the chicory flower blue sleeve caught the sunset. Its red light cascaded over the silk canvas, staining it deep, variegated hues of purple.

She felt conflicted, suddenly, between the relief of not having to be at the party and the shame of being a failure for not being whatever person she was supposed to be. Isamu had given her permission and she’d accepted it, but she should have just gotten over herself and stayed. He shouldn’t have even had to tell her to leave in the first place. Her stomach knotted into a dense mass and sunk into her abdomen. She backed away from the torii gate and looked over the horizon with a peculiar feeling of awe. The fiery orange sky cast pitch-black shadows over the mountain range, as if the sun were angry at the earth for turning and spinning away in an orbit that was, paradoxically, dictated by the star’s own gravitational pull. She should head back now, she decided.

Asaya turned to leave, but pivoted back to look down a stone stairway carved into the mountainside. A figure in a black and red cloak was approaching from downhill. A high collar prevented her from seeing most of the man’s- she assumed it was a man- face, but a large weapon of some sort was strapped to his back, probably a sword. Reflexively, Asaya put her right hand on the beads around her left wrist. Once he was close enough, she saw that the red patterns were clouds. They were foreboding, but in a distinctly tacky way.

“Who are you?” she shouted at him.

Unaffected, he kept climbing up the stairs, now close enough for her to see his unnaturally blue, oddly-textured skin and tiny, yellow eyes. Across his forehead was a defaced Kirigakure hitai-ate.

“I said, ‘who are you?’” Asaya shouted again.

The man halted. “You’re Kagami Tomoyo, right?” he said her name like he was filing down a nail.

Asaya unwrapped the beads from her wrist. That wasn’t her name, she told herself. “Why are you here?” Examining his face further, she saw he didn’t just look hideous, he looked inhuman. Like an actual shark.

“I’m Hoshigaki Kisame, one of the seven swordsmen of the Mist.” His voice was simultaneously slimy and gritty.

“Why are you here?” she repeated. What an obtuse ass.

“You, Tomoyo.”

How did he know that name? “Yeah, why?”

He took the giant weapon from his back and swung it to his side with one hand. It really was just a giant sword. How banal.

“I’m here to take you away, girl.”

Asaya stepped forward, porcelain beads gripped in her hands. Like hell she was going anywhere.

Aggressively leaping towards the offender, she landed just in front of him and stomped both feet into the ground, and a stone spike burst upwards to strike him. He easily evaded it by jumping back, but Asaya hadn’t expected to actually hit him. She was simply sending the message that she was going to fight.

He lunged at her with a swing of his sword and smashed it into the stone stairs. But when the dust settled, she had disappeared. Kisame scanned the ground. She must have burrowed herself under it. Typical Iwa ninja.

A shadow suddenly cast directly above him. Startled for a second, Kisame looked up to see a large boulder had appeared above him. He jumped downhill just in time to avoid being crushed. Something like a whip appeared in the corner of his eye heading straight for his face. He raised his forearm to block it, but instead of crushing, gutting, or otherwise injuring him, a long string of pearls wound itself around his limb so tight he could feel them bruise his flesh. At the other end of the string the girl clutched it and pulled it taught.

“Next time it’ll be your neck!” she yelled then violently thrashed her body in an arc.

By the string around his arm, Kisame was whipped into the air and crashed into the steep slope of the stone ridge. He swung Samehada at the beads, but she retracted them too quickly for him to break them. Enraged, he formed a sequence of hand seals to conjure a giant wave and send it rushing towards her.

He was trying to surround her in his element, Asaya knew, trying to give himself a battlefield advantage. But water? In Earth Country? Against an Iwa shinobi? What a joke. Asaya fell to her knees and pounded both fists into the ground to pull the earth upwards into a giant wall of stone. Despite the wave’s immense volume, it crashed ineffectively into her barrier and the water simply drained down the slope in an equally immense waste of effort.

Asaya shifted back up on her feet with her weapon at the ready, eyes and ears open and ready for his next attack. He appeared leaping over the top of the earth wall she’d just created, then came striking down with his massive sword. He was a dumb brute, but he was definitely strong. Taking any kind of hit from him wasn’t an option. She jumped back to avoid the blow, but between the impact vibrating through the ground and her unstable formal footwear her ankle gave out and she stumbled.

Kisame saw the chance to strike and took it. He swung at her, but instead of slashing, he scooped her up and flung her into the air directly above him.

Fuck, Asaya thought midair. At the apex of flight, she looked down at the shark man. He looked up at her like a predator about to ambush its prey, like a shark about to devour a bird on the water. She brought one hand to her chest to form a seal while the other reached back with her weapon.

Kisame’s beady eyes sharpened on the girl flying vulnerably into the air. Suspended, she was unable to control her movement as effectively as she could on the ground. Which meant she couldn’t attack with as much force, but more importantly she couldn’t dodge. And she obviously didn’t have the physical strength necessary to block him. He jumped upwards with Samehada ready to demolish her.

As soon as he left the ground, Asaya cast her string of beads. The multiplied in length and number and laced together to form a net and flew at him, entwining themselves mercilessly around his body. He dropped his sword and it hit the ground with only a limp thud despite its size. With his arms and legs completely ensnared, he was barely able to squirm. Asaya landed neatly beside him and looked down in contempt while he floundered at her feet.

A jagged rock painfully dug into Kisame’s back. “You bitch!” he yelled at her while struggling against his bonds.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Perched atop the torii gate, Itachi had watched the whole fight. He was impressed that the young woman was able to strike Kisame more times than he did her. And even more impressed that she had been able to subdue him. It was certainly something he had never seen before. He watched as Kisame struggled uselessly in the woman’s snare. He had better intervene before she killed his partner.

~*~*~*~*~*~

This man really was strong, Asaya realized. It took much more of her power and concentration to keep him bound than anything had before. “Who sent you after me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he mocked her, still raging in her trap.

Asaya rolled her eyes. She didn’t know why she bothered asking when she was just giving him an opportunity to say something stupid. It didn’t really matter at this point. It would have been nice to bring him back alive so that Isamu, an interrogation specialist, could get the information out of him but she couldn’t risk him breaking free. It was better to just kill him now. She brought one hand to her chest to form a sequence of one-handed seals.

A new presence appeared behind her, alighting swiftly and silently like a great, black bird. She stepped back, startled. Where had he come from? She hadn’t sensed anyone else in the area.

“Kagami Tomoyo, I would have you release my partner now,” he said coldly.

This new figure was a man about the same age as herself with black hair and a fair, but travel tanned complexion. Unlike his partner, he looked like a normal human, but his eyes- His eyes were a deep red. More red than the torii gate. A glassy crimson made all the more intense by the refracted light of a violent sunset. Asaya had never seen anything like them before. He looked at her detached and expressionless, as if she weren’t actually standing in front of him. Her lungs stopped breathing while her heart beat faster. This man was someone to be afraid of.

“Wh- who are you?” She tried her best to keep the fear from showing on her face, but she couldn’t mask it completely. She was unable to move while binding the shark-man. She was vulnerable.

The man’s scarlet eyes almost burned her. “My name is Uchiha Itachi, and you will be leaving with me now.”

When he spoke the last word, her vision involuntarily unfocused and her knees wobbled. The shadows on the mountainside stretched and warped together until they covered the whole earth. Then, they crawled up and shrouded her own body in darkness. An illusion? Was her last thought before she lost consciousness.

Itachi caught her as she fell into his arms. For all the trouble she had given Kisame, subduing her with a genjutsu was surprisingly effortless. The long string of beads that bound Kisame retracted to its original form around her wrist. Itachi had thought they were some sort of onenju, or prayer beads, but upon examination he found they didn’t have a larger guru bead and appeared to contain more than the usual 108. They were just a necklace of unglazed, porcelain pearls.

Kisame stood back up and retrieved Samehada. “You didn’t have to intervene, you know. I was about to break free.” He returned the sword to its resting place on his back.

Saying nothing to acknowledge his partner’s false statement, Itachi gathered the woman in his arms and turned to walk away. “The disturbance will have attracted the attention of others in the area. We should leave quickly.”

The large, heavy, wooden double doors of the Tsuchikage’s office slammed open as Madame Fukurou entered.

“What has happened to my apprentice?” she demanded.

Oonoki and the two officials at his desk looked up, startled by the sudden intrusion. This was not entirely unexpected, however. Oonoki knew the witch would come eventually. “Calm down,” he said.

“Don’t tell me to ‘calm down,’” she retorted.

“I’m in a meeting. Can’t you see that?” How dare she think she could just interrupt him on a whim. “Bother me when I’m not in the middle of business.”

The two officials, now bystanders, looked at one another hesitantly, clearly at a loss for what to do.

Madame Fukurou sneered at the two. “You both, leave,” she ordered.

They looked at Oonoki as if to ask permission.

“I said, ‘leave!’” Madame Fukurou struck her wooden cane against the ground.

They immediately scurried out of the office knowing it was better not to get caught up in whatever was about to happen.

Oonoki huffed, “I don’t appreciate you coming in here and-“

“You’re the one who insisted she attend that event-” she never missed a chance to interrupt him- “You could have sent anyone else, but you had to use my apprentice in one of your selfish schemes!”

“Well maybe if you’d been a good instructor and actually taught her how to fight and defend herself this wouldn’t have happened!” Oonoki yelled back.

“I’m a better instructor than you. I’m not the one who’s son blatantly disregarded the responsibility of protecting his charge.”

“She left of her own free will.”

“And your son shouldn’t have let her.”

Why couldn’t she just die of a self-induced stroke? Fukurou was singularly the greatest thorn in his entire tenure as Tsuchikage. Oonoki took a deep breath and thought very strategically about what he was going to say. “I’ve already assigned a team to start searching for her. We’ll find who’s responsible and bring her back safely. Until then you need to be patient.”

“Don’t presume to tell me what I need. You need to assign someone better than your son- who lost her in the first place- to lead the investigation.”

“Isamu has proven himself as the best investigator and interrogator in all of Iwa. You know that. I don’t have anyone better.” Oonoki wanted so much to yell at her to leave his office or he’d call security. But ultimately, it would just make him look like he couldn’t work with another member of the Grand Council. It would be seen as weak, uncooperative leadership. “What do you want me to do, then? To go find her myself?”

Madame Fukurou toyed with the long string of ivory beads around her neck with her bony fingers and large, arthritic joints. “I want someone with experience in search and rescue in charge of finding her. Your son may be the head of intelligence, but this isn’t the same thing. I want her back alive, Oonoki.” She pinched a single bead and rolled it between her index finger and thumb.

Crossing his arms, Oonoki thought some more. If Fukurou didn’t get what she wanted, she’d obstruct every other order of business he had until she did. But he couldn’t just let her win, either. “Very well, I will assign additional personnel to the case.”

“That’s not enough. I want you to replace Isamu entirely.”

That he definitely could not do. “Are you insulting my son?”

“I’ve been insulting your son this entire time. Do keep up,” Fukurou said curtly.

“I’m not going to publicly disgrace my own son by forcing him to step down from an assignment.”

“He’s already failed by letting her be abducted in the first place. He knew what the security risk was and ignored it anyway.”

“You said you wanted the best, and Isamu is the best. I know it’s hard for you to believe that anyone likes Asaya, but he’s actually quite fond of her. Half of my household is. He’s not going to cut any corners.”

Madame Fukurou stopped fiddling with her beads. “You know, Oonoki,” she tapped her polished wood cane once as she prepared to leave, “perhaps you are just using this as an opportunity to slight me, and perhaps not. But the security of the entire village is what you are gambling with to do so.” Turning and walking away, she said with disappointment, “I cannot imagine why that would be worth it to you.” Her cane tapped on the floor until the wooden doors shut behind her.

“Ow,” Asaya winced and cradled her head. A pounding headache drummed against her temples. Weakly, she propped herself up and looked at her surroundings. The sky was dark and cloudy and moonless, but she knew she was on one of the infinitely indistinguishable, craggy mountainsides of Earth Country. The last thing she remembered was fighting some thug and then… Red eyes seared in her mind’s eye like hot iron. What had he done to her?

“You’re awake,” came his voice in the darkness.

He appeared a few meters away from her like a nightmare manifest. Instinctively, she reached for the beads around her left wrist only to find that it was bare.

“Looking for these?” He held up her beads. Their pristine white nearly twinkled in the darkness. “You’re quite formidable with them.” She watched paralyzed while he tucked them into his cloak like stars disappearing into a black hole.

Asaya looked at his face. She remembered how his eyes radiated a vivid, crystalline red, but now they were a perfect black that did not glint or reflect light like normal eyes would. Asaya’s chest heaved heavy and anxious. They were an unyielding, inescapable black that effortlessly subsumed and dissipated all light, obscuring any hint of their true depth.

Itachi watched a thousand thoughts and emotions stormed behind the young woman’s eyes, concealed by a porcelain face. She was afraid of him- the slight tremor in her breath told him as much- but she was not hopeless.

Naked, the woman lay reclined on periwinkle sheets. The lamp on the nightstand beside them was dark; the only illumination was the moonlight shining through the open window above their bed. The cool, bluish light glowed almost white over her porcelain skin. After freeing her hair from a small, ornamented, silver barrette and placing it on the nightstand next to a long string of white pearls, she laid back and circled her arms above her head. The gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed beckoned him.

Her abdomen twisted back so she could look up at him while he spooned her body with his own. She smiled coquettishly and said something, but he heard only silence. His hand slithered up her thigh and waist to grab one of her breasts and knead it for a moment. He then pinched her small nipple between his fingers until it puckered erect. Biting her lip, the woman closed her eyes and squirmed in a moment of familiar pleasure. Bringing his mouth to the nipple, he swirled it in his tongue and nipped it briefly before kissing his way up her chest and neck to her lips.

Breaking away from the kiss, she gazed at him with half-lidded eyes and whispered two words. “Take me,” she seemed to say, but again he heard nothing. Not even the wind rustling the translucent curtains above them. Immediately, he turned her on her side and grasped the supple flesh of her inner thigh. He parted her yielding legs and inserted himself into her in one deft motion, as if he had done it many times before. In response, she gripped the edge of the bed. Again and again he thrust into her while watching her chest heave and mouth tremble as she gasped and moaned inaudibly. Soon overwhelmed, she buried her face in a pillow and clawed her fingers into the mattress. They quivered together one last time before she relaxed her grip and her body rested peacefully for a moment, fulfilled.

His fingers gently tucked a strand of stray, mousy hair behind her ear. Before he could take them away, she reached back to grab his hand and bring it to her chest where she entwined her fingers with his. He tenderly kissed her shoulder before finally resting his head beside hers.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sasuke awoke in a cold sweat staring straight up at the sky through a thick layer of branches and leaves. The light which filtered down to him was clear and soft. He guessed it to be sometime in the early morning just after the sun had fully risen. That meant he had overslept.

Draping his forearm over his eyes, Sasuke cursed his dreams. That woman had appeared in them many times before over the past year or so. It had taken him some time to realize the same woman was appearing again and again because the initial instances were so brief and innocuous: walking some distance in front of or beside him on some road, sitting next to him at a table drinking tea or at a campfire, sometimes smiling, sometimes expressionless, and occasionally agitated. Sometimes he could see her face in detail like he did just now and other times only an unfocused impression. But now he recognized her every time regardless.

Lately, these visions were becoming more frequent and intense. Three nights ago, when he had first reached the boarder of Fire and Grass countries, she had appeared under yellowish lamplight sitting at a small desk littered with all kinds of papers and pens. She spoke to him in soundless sentences, intermittently pausing as if he were speaking back to her. But if he were, he could hear his own voice no better. Judging entirely by her expression, the conversation had started out candid and light, but then turned more frustrated or exasperated as it went on, until her eyes puffed up as if she were about to cry. Then, she stood up and walked away from the desk and that was the end of the dream.

This particular dream had been the most explicit so far. She had never before appeared naked, let alone had he made love to her. Sasuke’s mind stopped for a moment at the thought. Was that what it was? It hadn’t felt like just physical sex. He had undeniably made love to her. Sasuke shuddered, uncomfortable with the disconnect between the feelings of his dreaming and waking selves. He had a wife for fuck’s sake.

The question plagued him: why this same woman every time? Sasuke knew it wasn’t possible to dream about people one had not met or faces one had not seen. The human brain could not invent faces while sleeping. So why couldn’t he remember who she was? And why were these visions always silent?

Sasuke tossed his thin blanket aside and sat upright. He needed to get where he was going- not that he had any meaningful destination. He rolled up his blanket and stuffed it into his backpack. Finally, he slung it over his right arm- his only arm- and departed.

For some time he walked down a nameless, sunlit dirt road on the border of Fire and Grass countries, but the dream refused to let him push it from his mind. It was like trying to not think about pink elephants. He wasn’t even attracted to the woman, so why did some stupid, sensual image keep flashing across his mind’s eye?

Closing his eyes, Sasuke thought long and hard. From her hair she had taken a silver barrette and placed it on a nightstand next to a string of pearls. He halted his steps. The barrette had a symbol etched into it...

A village symbol...

Iwa’s symbol...

She was an Iwa kunoichi.

“Tch. Dammit.” He muttered and continued walking. That didn’t solve any problems, only raised more questions. He did not know anyone form Iwa. At least no one notable.

He sighed. Anyway, what did it matter? It was a stupid, annoying dream. It wasn’t like any of it had been real.

Itachi, Asaya, Kisame, Sasori, and Deidara entered a large town uneventfully in the mid-morning. There were no guards at the gate or any form of check-in station. Fitting for a town dominated by yakuza. In fact, only a few blocks into town stood a quaint, two story bar with kitschy, old-fashioned interior decorations and bright red curtains drawn shut on every window of the second floor.

This was a classy establishment, Asaya decided. So classy that they did not enter through the front and instead snuck around to the back where a man in a black suit opened a splintered door to reveal a surprisingly wide staircase leading down to the basement. Kisame, Itachi, Sasori, and Deidara shuffled down the stairs with Asaya behind them. The basement reeked with decades’ worth of tobacco build up. A polished, hardwood minibar stood against the far wall and tasteless, gaudy images of legendary warriors and monsters hung mixed with posters of pinup girls in varying shades of naked. Classy indeed.

Most of the men in the room wore black suits like the man at the rear entrance, but some wore crisply new tracksuits. Nearly all of them had tattoos peeking out from their collars and sleeves: blue waves, speckles of pink petals, and green or orange scales of koi or dragons. There were a few women present, too, just as clothed as their counterparts the wall.

In the center of the room was a dark leather couch and some chairs arranged around a baize table covered in playing cards, ashtrays, and short glasses filled with amber liquor and ice. Sitting centrally on the couch was an ugly, middle aged man with a luridly embellished woman on each side. He took a drag of his cigar and said, “So, you the Akatsuki?” while scrutanizing them head to toe.

“What do you think?” Kisame answered.

“I was expecting two men, not four.” He tapped his cigar into a glass ashtray. “An’ a broad.” He added when he spotted Asaya hiding behind them. “Lucky for me to get such special service. I’m Hasegawa, by the way. The man who called for you.”

“And what did you call us for?” Asked Sasori, curtly.

“Some of my men were busted by the central government a few days back. Right now they’re being held in the prison on the other end of town, but I need ‘em snuffed out before they’re transported to the capitol for interrogation and the cover’s blown on the rest of my operations.” Hasegawa explained while snaking a hand around to grab the ass of one of the women sitting next to him. “Normally, I’d have my men do it, but they recently hired some shinobi for guards so we’re a little outclassed. Think you can handle it?” His grubby palm squeezed the woman’s ass a few times before crawling up her waist.

“If we didn’t, we wouldn’t be here.” Kisame said.

Asaya paid no attention to the conversation and instead glared from the corner of her eye at a man standing a few feet to the left of the entrance. He eyed her vulgarly from behind while lighting a cigarette and taking an excessively long drag.

The exchange had not gone unnoticed by Itachi. A moment later, the man stumbled back in terror, as if a monster from a painting on the wall had sprung to life just to devour him.

“Well, I guess not.” Hasegawa picked up a few photographs from the table and handed them to the woman on his right. “These are the men I need offed. I don’t know where they are inside the prison, so you’re just gonna have to find ‘em yourselves.”

The woman took the photos and brought them over to Kisame, who did not waste the opportunity to examine her assets.

“It won’t be a problem.” Itachi said indifferently as the other three made to leave. “If you have nothing else for us, we will be going now.” As he turned and passed Asaya, she whispered a nearly silent “Thank you.” to him before following.

“You still listen to the Yoru Tani radio drama, huh?” Deidara asked Asaya.

“Yeah, Tsuta and I love it.” She said brightly. “I really want the narrator’s boyfriend to escape the alternate dimension and…”

Kisame tapped his finger on his lukewarm teacup for the millionth time while Deidara and Asaya babbled on and on about Iwa and other stupid shit. Itachi had decided that he and Sasori should complete this mission while Kisame would stay behind with Deidara to watch Asaya. This idea worked because the mission did not require four people and they obviously couldn’t take her with them. Deidara was too destructive so someone had to stay behind with him to watch her. And since Deidara and Itachi didn’t get along, Kisame ended up with the short stick babysitting the two at a small teahouse two blocks down from the yakuza bar. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Deidara and the girl weren’t obnoxious, insufferable twits.

“I don’t know, my cat’s kind of disgusting. He’s too fat and lazy to groom himself, so he gets pretty matted and grimy if I don’t give him baths.” Asaya said.

Kisame needed to escape this. He finished his remaining drink with a single big gulp and stood up. “Deidara, keep an eye on her. I’ll be back.”

“Hey, where are you going, hm?” Deidara asked suspiciously.

“Where do you think?” He said while walking away.

Asaya curled her lip as he turned left towards the yakuza bar. “What a sleazebag.”

“Yeah,” Deidara responded passively.

“Ugh, at least he’s gone. I’m so sick of looking at his stupid fish face.” She muttered.

“Don’t like him, hm?” Deidara couldn’t blame her, but he still found her disdain funny.

“He’s a stupid, misogynistic thug. I hope he gets an STI.” She said bitterly while taking a sip of green tea.

Deidara chuckled while taking a bite of one of his snacks. “Hm, so what’s it been like being stuck with them?”

“Well, I guess as far as hostage situations go it’s not too bad. I mean, so far that asshole has only given me a couple of bruises.” She scratched her chin. “That sounds weird now that I’ve said it…”

Shrugging, Deidara said “Yeah, sounds like something an abused housewife would say, hm. How many bruises has Itachi given you?” He was, in some small way, concerned for his friend. Or former friend.

“None.” Asaya never had the impression that Itachi would raise a hand to her. Ever. Pinching her brows, Asaya thought for a moment then finally said, “I don’t think he even cares. Most of the time he just treats me like I’m invisible. And then when he does speak to me, half the time it’s like he’s not really there.” Although, he would make dry comments as if he were trying to be sympathetic in an awkward way. At first, she didn’t realize what he was doing, but thinking back he actually said them rather frequently. She found herself thinking fondly of it. “I don’t really understand him.”

“He’s a sociopath. It’s not that hard to figure out, yeah.” Deidara said.

“Oh, and you’re not?” She accused him.

“Not the kind who tortures small animals, hm.”

Asaya vacantly stared to the side while picking dirt from her nails. That didn’t seem right to her, at all. “Maybe. I don’t know.” She said ambiguously.

“He likes to torture people with those illusions of his, un.” Deidara stated in contempt. “You should avoid making eye contact.”

“Maybe.” She simply repeated. Sure, just earlier that day Itachi had used an illusion to intimidate the man who was leering at her. Or maybe terrorize? Either way, his action was a kindness on her behalf and didn’t seem like just an excuse to torture someone. In her experience, Itachi was even more indifferent towards violence than he was to anything else. “Maybe he’s just an anti-authoritarian anarchist like you.” She smirked.

“Don’t compare me to that hack, hn!” Deidara pounded his fist on the table.

Struck a nerve? “You’re right, he’s way less obnoxious.”

“Shut up.” He said tersely.

“Ok, ok,” She said softly while biting her inner lip. “Why do you hate him? Aren’t you colleagues or something?” Not that Deidara was particularly congenial himself.

Slumping back in his seat, Deidara said, “It’s nothing. He just gets on my nerves sometimes, un.”

Resting her chin in her hand, Asaya knew better than to ask and instead opted to change the subject. “How long do you think Kisame will be gone?”

“I don’t know, un. A little over an hour, yeah?”

“Oh, is that how long a typical prostitution venture lasts?”

“Well, probably, considering-” Irritated, narrow blue eyes glared her down. “Why do you think I would know that, hmm?”

Asaya offered a sweet, toothy grin. “No particular reason.”

“Hey, unlike some people, I don’t need to pay for services, hm!”

“Relax, I get it.” She had forgotten how fragile his ego was. “I’m just kidding.”

Deidara crossed his arms.

“Fine. You are the most irresistible jackass on the face of the earth.” She got up to sit next to him. He leaned away from her, eyes razor thin. She batted her eyelashes a few times before nabbing a jam-filled cookie from his plate and eating it in one bite.

“You jerk. You just wanted to steal my food, hm.” He nudged her with his elbow in jest.

“Well, you were taking your time so I assumed you didn’t want it.” She smirked while chewing and reached an arm to rest across his shoulders. “We’re still friends, right DD? Don’t friends share?” He responded by mistrustfully inching his plate to the left.

“Don’t be like that…” Snaking her fingers around his neck, she pinched a nerve and he slumped forward and his head fell to the now plateless spot on the table with a distinctively unconscious thud. Asaya rolled her eyes. Sorry.

Walking furtively down the street, Asaya supposed she should have stopped sooner to ask directions, but she had wanted to put as much space between her and the unconscious Deidara as possible before either he woke up or Kisame returned. Unfortunately, this meant she was lost somewhere on the other side of town. Although, it may not have been the worst possible situation, as hiding in a crowd was often easier than in the wilderness. Like a tree in a forest, as they say. Maybe she should even stay a night or two in a hotel before leaving town with some merchants just to shake them off her trail.

Asaya passed by a shop window with relatively nice, casual clothing displayed on headless, plastic mannequins. Getting a new change of clothes would be a good Idea, too. One time, she had escaped simply by changing clothes with a waitress. A new dress, a few hairclips, and some makeup and she walked right past them. Men are simple creatures. Stepping back from the window, she accidentally bumped into someone.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She said automatically.

A man in a dated, white suit with a gold chain necklace and greasy hair looked down at her. Two other men were with him, one wearing an equally dated black leather jacket and the other a blue and white stripped track suit. It wasn’t hard to guess they were members of the same yakuza gang that ran the brothel.

“You should watch your step, little lady.” The white suit said.

Asaya gave a small, fake smile and stepped left to walk away, but the man cut her off. “I said ‘I’m sorry.’” She stepped to the right, but he trapped her with an arm against the window.

“Now, what’s the rush?” His slimy voice offensively crawled into her ears.

“Excuse me.” She said and stepped back only to feel the man in the leather jacket place a grimy hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off forcefully.

“Don’t look so angry, little lady. It ruins your pretty face.” The white suit stepped towards her and the other two chuckled.

This ended now. Asaya struck the white suit’s jaw with a strong uppercut and he fell backwards on the ground with a whimper. “You little bitch!” The man in the blue tracksuit tried to punch her, but instead she easily grabbed his arm and twisted it till it popped out of the socket and he howled in pain. Wasting no time, she then jabbed the leather jacket three times in the stomach before sweeping his legs out from under him by the ankles. Glaring over the three whimpering men crippled by pain, she was about to verbally assault them when she heard someone in the street exclaim “Look, did you see that?” Asaya glanced up to meet the wide-eyed stares of nearly every pedestrian nearby. “Who is that girl?” Another one said.

Crap. Panicking, she ran down the street like a jackrabbit.

“You little cunt!” One of the men yelled behind her as she ran.

Eventually, Asaya arrived at a different edge of town than the one where she had entered. One with an actual checkpoint for legitimate travelers and merchants to pass through. Something needed to keep up the appearance that this town wasn’t completely corrupt.

Off to the side and a bit away from the checkpoint was a caravan loading various goods onto large wagons. Asaya spotted a man checking each wagon with a clipboard and occasionally shouting orders. Assuming him to be the foreman, she approached.

“Um, excuse me, sir.” She addressed him.

“Yeah?” The man said, visibly annoyed at being interrupted.

“Sorry to bother, but I’m traveling out of town this evening. I’m by myself so I was hoping to join a group. If you have room I promise not to be a bother.”

“Depends, where are you headed?” He said with scrutiny through a thick, scruffy moustache and beard.

“Kanoya.” She read from an address on a nearby shipping container. “I was in town visiting my grandmother and am headed back home.” She lied.

His dubious expression did not change, but luckily he was too busy to care. “Can you lift 50 pounds?” He pointed to a large stack of crates next to an empty wagon some meters away. “Tell you what, if you can load those crates onto that wagon there before we leave I’ll give you a free ride.”

“Ok, it’s a deal. How do you want them stacked?” She said.

The foreman mildly raised an eyebrow. He clearly thought she would not have taken the offer. “Doesn’t matter as long as they all fit.”

“Alright. Thanks, sir.” She rolled up her sleeves and headed towards the crates.

Wishing she had a hairband, Asaya pulled her hair up off her neck to let the cool air waft over it. She had finished loading the last crate and while she wasn’t necessarily tired, she had produced a bit sweat under the sun. She sat back to rest against a crate with a thud.

“Well, I’ll be.” The foreman whistled. “Didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

“It wasn’t too bad.” Asaya huffed.

“You can wait by the break table over there for the time being. The woman there, Kyaku Harue, will give you something to drink if you’d like.” He said.

“Thanks.” She stood up and dusted off her pants. “When do you leave?”

“About twenty minutes.”

Excellent, she thought. “Alright. Thank you.”

A short woman with a round face and a few streaks of grey in otherwise black hair greeted Asaya as she approached the empty table next to the workers’ break stand. “Hello, young lady.”

“Hello. Are you Kyaku Harue?” Asaya asked while taking a seat.

“I am. You must be the young lady they’ve told me about. What’s your name?”

“Call me ‘Aki.’” Asaya said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” The woman smiled warmly. “You must be tired. Would you like something to drink?”

“Oh, I’m fine, thank you. I’m just waiting until it’s time to leave.” She said politely.

“Nonsense. I’ll make you some tea.” Harue ducked behind the counter for a moment before pulling out a paper cup from behind the stand. She filled it with hot water, steeped a teabag for a minute, and then added some cream and sugar. “Here you are, sweetie.”

Asaya did not like cream and sugar in her tea, but it was rude to reject the hospitality. “Thank you.” The beverage wasn’t too hot so she took a large drink. The taste was just a bit too sweet and left a weirdly acidic aftertaste as it swirled over her tongue. “It’s lovely.” Sugar really didn’t mix well with tea.

“So, where are you headed?” Harue asked.

“Kanoya.” Hopefully she wouldn’t ask about anything too specific.

“That’s quite a distance. And you’re going by yourself, I hear? That’s very brave of you.” Harue spoke in a way reminiscent of an aunt speaking to her young niece or nephew.

“I’ve traveled alone before though, so I’m used to it.” Asaya said after taking another drink.

“You know, I have some family over there myself. My brother is a fisherman- just like every other man in this country. He…” Harue spoke at length about her extended family. It may not have been particularly interesting, but it was polite conversation and it did pass the time. She didn’t mention much of anything about herself though, like a husband or children- or her work.

Only a few millimeters of cold liquid remained at the bottom of Asaya’s paper cup. “Well, thank you for the tea. It was lovely meeting you, but I must be going now.” She stood up from the table, but the whole world shifted sideways, rocking like a boat. Overwhelmed by a sudden vertigo, she slammed both hands on the table. What…? she thought while a fever-like sensation washed over her.

“Are you feeling alright, dearie?” Harue asked in an excessively sweet tone- a disingenuously sweet tone.

Panting, Asaya looked at the empty paper cup while the perimeters of her vision swirled and blurred, then looked accusingly at Harue.

“You seem tired. Why don’t you sit back down and relax?” Harue smiled.

“You-” Asaya hissed through gritted teeth before passing out.

“So, how do I know you actually killed them?” Hasegawa drew a red-backed poker card from a deck on the table and indifferently looked at his fat, gold watch.

Itachi threw a brown sack onto the table. It landed with a definite thud, causing many of the chip stacks to clatter and topple.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out wat was in the bag. “Well-” Hasegawa began, but was interrupted by the door slamming open and someone clunkishly trampling down the stairs. A short, thin man came down while exclaiming “Hey Boss, auntie Harue nabbed another one for us!” Behind him followed a much larger man effortlessly carrying an unconscious woman over one shoulder. “Apparently, this one’s here alone from outta town. Perfect, right?” the short man elaborated.

Hasegawa slammed his glass on the baize card table. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of business here?!” he shouted and gestured towards his two Akatsuki guests.

The short man visibly winced and glanced nervously at the black-robbed figures. “I’m sorry, sir, I just thought you’d want to-“

“I don’t care.” Hasegawa dismissively ashed his cigar. “Just take her to the back and I’ll see to it later.”

“Yes, sir.” The two men shuffled towards the back door.

As they passed, Itachi glanced at the unconscious woman. His eyes flared from behind his high collar. “Stop.” He commanded.

The two men halted and turned around, clearly taken aback.

“That woman is with us.” Itachi said.

Asaya awoke in a cold, clammy sweat. Every muscle in her body painfully tremored, her stomach threatened to prolapse, and her head throbbed as if her brain were trying to escape her shrinking skull by rupturing through her temples. She opened her eyes briefly to find a dark room of shadows cast by a dim light from some feet behind her. Suddenly, a fever flashed over her and she cast the blanket aside. The air rushed over her sticky skin and into the damp crevasses of her joints with a soothing coolness as it evaporated her sweat. She enjoyed the relief for only a few minutes before she became too cold and covered herself with the blanket.

“How are you feeling?” Asked a familiar, monotone voice.

Fucking damn it… Asaya thought as she remembered the events of the last twenty-four hours- or what she assumed were the last twenty-four hours. Unfortunately, she didn’t really have the emotional energy to process it all. She just knew she somehow ended up back in the custody of the Akatsuki. Taking quite a few moments to speak, she finally wheezed, “You know, I’ve heard that the guys who specialize in poisons-” she took a deep breath- “regularly ingest small amounts to build up an immunity.” She coughed twice and added, “I’m thinking of trying it.”

A small thud came from somewhere behind her, like something was not-so-gently dropped onto a table. “You’re really lucky, you know that?” She could tell by his inflection that he was angry. The disappointed kind of angry.

“I’ll buy some lottery tickets.” She said flatly.

Faux-leather upholstery and metal springs squeaked as Itachi adjusted his seat. “Do you have any idea what would have happened if we hadn’t found you?” Before she said something flippant he added “To you specifically.”

Not disappointed… distressed? Asaya uncovered herself again as another hot flash came over her. She did not appreciate being patronized even if it was out of concern. “Sure.” She puffed out.

“Then what-“

“I don’t know-” She massaged her temple in small circles a few times, trying to disperse the pain. Her efforts only made it worse. “I don’t know what you are going to do to me.” Her voice diminished as she spoke.

Itachi said nothing.

He watched her etiolated form pant and squirm uncomfortably as it worked whatever drug out of her system. Shivering, she rolled onto her side facing away from him and curled her knees up before covering herself with the blanket again.

Itachi was furious that this had happened- that his colleagues had failed, that the yakuza had drugged and abducted her, and that he had only found her by sheer luck. A part of him begrudged her for running away again. Although, the better part of him knew Asaya had only been acting in her own best interest. What truly upset him was that he had failed to-

Her words weren’t wrong, though.

Tilting his head forward, he reached back to untie his hitai-ate. The lamplight glinted off of its defaced surface as he set it down on the table next to him. Secretly resenting... Why hadn’t he just decided to stay back and watch her? Itachi rested his bare forehead against his right palm as his mind spiraled into conflict, repeatedly flexing his left hand into and out of a fist while staring at the wretched object on the table. For the moment, there was nothing he could do except wait.

“We found her in the Earth Capitol. She fled towards the Imperial Palace and we pursued her, but she alerted nearby Iwa shinobi to our presence. Once they arrived, we could no longer pursue her without major incident, nor were we likely to succeed regardless. I made the decision to retreat and maintain the Akatsuki’s anonymity in favor of recapturing the target,” Itachi gave his report to Pain just as he scripted.

Pain’s shadow projection visibly sighed. It was rare for the Akatsuki to fail, especially so for Itachi and Kisame. He trusted Itachi’s judgement, but perhaps he should have been more explicit with how critical the girl was to the Akatsuki’s goals. In any case, he had not gone through such lengths to secure the girl just to have it end in disappointment. “I see,” he finally stated.

Itachi had steeled himself for a reprimand, or at least some words of disappointment, but was surprised when the Akatsuki’s leader only said, “You will be contacted regarding this at a later time. Be at the ready.” Then his shadow disappeared.

Was this not where it ended? Itachi though with unease. He had thought that since Asaya was safely back in Iwa that the Akatsuki would cut their losses and give up. He could only speculate as to why they didn’t.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Four weeks. Four weeks was how long Asaya had been back in Iwagakure. One month. After she had been aggressively cross-examined by the intelligence division, undergone countless medical examinations (they had given her an uncomfortable number of pregnancy tests despite her assertion that they were unnecessary), and passed invasive mental health screenings, she was released with a cover story about an undercover mission and explicit instructions to never acknowledge any of the events that had actually taken place. Not one iota of information. Ever.

“I’d like one regular coffee with cream and no sugar. And-“ Asaya looked expectantly at Tsuta standing beside her.

“One peppermint hot chocolate, please,” he said.

Asaya paid the register and they both stepped over to wait by the pickup counter with a handful of other weekend evening customers. The first time she had seen Tsuta again she teared up because it was the first moment she’d felt home. That was four days ago. Even though they had seen each other every day since, she found it difficult to look away from him.

They each picked up their respective drinks when called and exited the café. The gold bell hanging atop the door chimed behind them. The early spring air nipped at them with the last remains of winter as they walked the streets.

“So, you still haven’t told me what really happened while you were out of Iwa,” Tsuta smiled.

Asaya gave him an unimpressed look, “I could tell you, but they’d kill you if I did.” He knew the story as given was phony, if only because it was so obvious.

“Hmm, I think I’ll take my chances,” he winked.

“And then they’d kill me. You know they’re watching,” she said quietly. She shouldn’t even be entertaining him with a tacit acknowledgment.

“Oh, okay then,” Tsuta sipped his peppermint hot chocolate. He knew that some criminal organization had kidnapped her for presumably some nefarious purpose, but that wasn’t really what mattered, anyway. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I am. I promise,” Asaya said. “How have the lessons with the new instructor been going?”

Tsuta adjusted his tote bag of sheet music over his shoulder. “Good so far. It’s much more interesting than stuff written by guys who died like two hundred or more years ago.”

“Oh, yeah? How so?”

“I mean, the classical stuff is good and all, and I get why it’s important, and it can be fun sometimes, but I’ve been doing it since day one. It’s not new or interesting like when I listen to the radio and I can do whatever I feel like.”

“I get it,” she didn’t understand music the way he did, but she understood the sentiment.

Their conversation continued while they walked home under warm, glowing streetlamps until they came to a bridge and stopped. Stretched across the entrance was a red ribbon about 13 centimeters wide.

“Must be under repair,” Tsuta said. “You can see where they’ve pulled up a few planks over there. We’ll have to…”

Red.

Asaya stared at the ribbon, it’s vermillion hue burning into her retina. She remembered this red- this exact red- and she could not help but feel a sort of concealed longing as it wove through her memory. A soft, warm, pink blush crept into her cheeks as the ghost of a hand brushed against hers and pressed its fingers into her palm. “Asaya,” she felt his whisper in her ear.

“Asaya!?” Tsuta’s voice snapped her out of whatever daydream she was having.

“What?” she said reflexively.

Tsuta looked at the bridge suspiciously then back at her before asking, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, a little embarrassed. “Just lost in thought for a moment.” Of all the things that had happened, the one thing she dared not disclose throughout weeks of interrogation was the way she felt about him, or that he had let her escape- helped her, even- and especially not that they had… She brought her coffee to her lips and smiled.

They took an alternate route and eventually parted ways to head back to their respective homes.

“See you next week!” they shouted as they walked away.

When Asaya arrived back at her modest studio apartment, she did not bother to turn the lights on. She simply left her now-empty paper cup on the counter by the door, hung up her purse and coat, tucked her shoes away, changed into her pajamas, and crawled into bed.

Vermillion red flashed across her mind as soon as she lay down to sleep. She rested her forearm atop her head, bit her lower lip, and wondered what he might think if he knew of all the ways in which she’d imagined him. Although she dare not confess it aloud, it was quite an easy thing to admit to herself, unbelievable as it was. Especially now that it was all over. It was only a paper cut to her heart.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“No, constructing it that way won’t work. Because of the way this symbol interacts with that one, the seal won’t be able to receive any energy you transmit to it. Any built-in means to activate it won’t function and it will quickly break down in its own,” Madame Fukurou lectured her student. “You need to do something like this.” The significantly older woman wrote a series of corrections over Asaya’s work in red ink.

“I understand, but I can’t use fire energy, so how am I going to use it?” Asaya asked, somewhat exasperated. They had been working late into the evening in Madame Fukurou’s study to make up for lost time.

“In a simple case like this, one might use the flame from a candle to substitute one’s own,” Madame Fukurou struck a match and lit a candle standing on her desk then held her example seal on folded parchment delicately over the flame. The ink seemed to catch fire and burn away like ash without damaging the paper. She opened and unfolded the paper to show the technique had worked as intended. “Do you see? One can replicate this with other worms of energy as well: water, wind, lightning and the like. Fire happens to work best for this exercise.”

“Alright, but what do I do if I need more than just one candle of energy?”

“You would need to borrow it from someone else. We will cover this topic over the coming weeks.”

Asaya nearly threw her head against the desk. This would have been so useful to know before she had set that entire feudal palace up in flames by misusing Itachi’s fire energy. The skin on her hands still had feint scars. On the other hand, if she hadn’t failed so spectacularly, she might never have escaped.

Madame Fukurou raised a thin, feathery brow and smacked Asaya’s shoulder with the end of her wooden cane.

“Ow!” Asaya sat up and rubbed her shoulder.

“Every generation my students become lazier and lazier,” Madame Fukurou deplored. “Try again.” She pointed her long, bony finger at the papers on her desk.

Sighing, Asaya picked up her brush pen. But no sooner had she made a mark than a knock sounded through the oak double doors.

“What do you want?” Madame Fukurou knew who it was and would not bother inviting him in.

Asaya winced at her instructor’s harsh tone.

Sanmyaku Isamu, the Tsuchikage’s second son, came through the door. “Good evening,” he greeted them.

“What is it that has brought you here?” Tapping her talon-like nails on the hand-carved head of her cane, Madame Fukurou was never unwary when dealing with a member of Oonoki’s family.

Isamu was unphased by the old woman’s attitude. She had never liked him for as long as he could remember, and she certainly never would. “Kagami, you are being summoned for an urgent matter,” he said flatly, like an official reading a decree.

Asaya began cleaning up her papers and pens. “Yes, sir.”

“What for?” Madame Fukurou asked.

“I cannot say. But it is for the intelligence division. Which is why I am here personally.”

“I have access to all classifications of information regarding village operations. Tell me.”

“Yes, you certainly do. If you would like to request access to any records regarding the current situation, you may do so through the proper channels. The intelligence division’s office opens tomorrow morning at nine.”

Fukurou pursed her already thin lips, “Then I am coming with.”

“We will be walking an awfully long distance and I do like to be punctual,” he tried to dissuade her. And insult her.

“Then carry me. You are a strong young man, are you not?”

Isamu frowned. If he told the woman she was forbidden she would know immediately.

“It’s alright,” Asaya said, trying to be diplomatic, “I’m sure it’s something simple. This isn’t the first time they’ve called for me.”

The old woman rolled her eyes, but fortunately she yielded.

Asaya followed Isamu out of the office and through the streets to the Tsuchikage tower. This late in the evening, the streets were nearly empty, either because of the time or a temperature that was just cold enough to be uncomfortable. When they reached the tower, he did not take her upstairs to the officed on the top floors like she had expected, but instead down to a section of the basement where she had never been, passing through multiple checkpoints as they descended. Asaya thought it strange that no one asked them for identification or recorded their passing, but maybe that was the privilege of being the Tsuchikage’s son and head of the intelligence division.

At some point when they were alone in one of the underground hallways, Isamu stopped and turned back to look at Asaya. He could tell by the subtle knot in her brow that she knew something was not right. It really was a shame, he thought. She could have had a much brighter future if events had worked out differently. “My apologies, but this is going to be quite a long walk,” Isamu said and opened a secret passage.

This was not going to be fine, Asaya knew as soon as he said it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

On the windy side of a cliff just outside Iwagakure, Itachi and Kisame waited. From the altitude, Itachi could see all the little lights in every window and string up along every street and bridge as if he were looking down at the stars.

So this was where Asaya lived, Itachi mused. He had never seen it himself, but this view confirmed everything she had told him of it: mountain peaks obstructing the view of everything beyond the village, countless bridges connecting tiered rotunda towers, and iron street lamps that shined in the night like dew on a spiderweb. They were the only thing he remembered her having described as beautiful. Everything else had been some iteration of “just brown.”

Five figures of varying builds emerged from the shadows around them. Four of them formed a line while the fifth and shortest figure stepped forward. “Which Akatsuki members might you be?” asked the Tsuchikage while he sized them up.

“I am Uchiha Itachi and this is Hoshigaki Kisame,” Itachi answered. He could tell by the silhouettes of the other four figures that none of them were her. It brought him what was only going to be a temporary relief.

“Well, I guess it’s good to meet face-to-face. To get to the point, my son will be arriving with her momentarily,” the Tsuchikage said. “Ah, speak of the devil, actually.”

The face of the cliff rumbled, and the rock split apart to reveal a hidden tunnel, out from which stepped what must have been the Tsuchikage’s son and Asaya.

She looked wary and suspicious, clearly not knowing what to expect. First, she saw the Tsuckikage and made no change of expression, but when she saw Itachi and Kisame, her face twisted into shock and rage. “What’s going on?”

Itachi bit his tongue. If they hadn’t bothered to inform her the first time, why would he have thought they would this time?

“You will be leaving with these men,” the Tsuchikage bluntly stated.

“What?” Asaya immediately questioned, unable to mask her anger.

“I said that you will be leaving with these men, Kagami,” the Tsuchikage sharply repeated. How dare she?

Asaya instinctively tilted her head down as a small sign of submission and recomposed herself, “My apologies, Tsuchikage. May I ask why?”

“No,” he said mercilessly. “And before you ask out of turn again, this is not an order, you are not being sent on mission, and you may not refuse. This,” he emphasized, “is a deal.”

Itachi almost winced as the betrayal set in.

Kisame, who had said nothing until now, laughed at what he saw as a cow realizing it had been sold for slaughter.

Uninterested in lingering any longer than necessary, the Tsuchikage and his entourage silently disappeared back into the shadows.

“Goodbye, Miss Kagami,” Isamu said before he, too, turned to walk back into the hidden tunnel and closed the entrance behind him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Not one word was spoken between them the entire way to Amegakure. Nothing more than necessary, at least. That was until about a day’s travel from Amegakure late at night while Asaya and Itachi were once again alone in an inn, she finally broke her silence. “Did you know?” she asked him softly.

Sitting with her legs crossed on a twin bed facing the window, she was not going to rest anytime soon, much as Itachi wished otherwise. He sat at the other end of the room at a desk with a newspaper to pass the time. “About the deal?” he glanced up at her.

“Yes.”

“Not the first time, but I was informed this time,” he said.

“Why not?”

“The messenger, Zetsu, ‘forgot’ to inform us. Although, I suspect it was intentional because found it amusing.” Itachi suspected that wasn’t the truth, but he would keep it to himself for now.

Asaya glared scornfully at every star in the sky.

“I was surprised to learn your Tsuchikage chose to make a deal like this.” It honestly baffled Itachi. Why discard such a valuable asset when he could have negotiated terms that saw her safely returned? It may not be in the nature of emperors to value their subjects, but it was in the interest of souteneurs to retain their assets.

“I’m not. If they had just asked me, I would have done whatever they wanted anyway. I don’t actually care,” she said callously, “I know exactly why he did this.” She drew her knees to her chest and hugged her legs, and after a moment of her mind winding and unwinding, she mumbled, “It was so obvious…” Isamu had told her exactly where to go, they knew exactly where and when to find her alone, and all at an event she never should have been at.

Itachi recognized that cynicism- knew it intimately, even. A veneer of spite concealing a confusion of anger, regret, and shame. The Tsuchikage could have at least given her the dignity of knowing.

Itachi quietly moved to sit beside her and the stiff bed creaked to accommodate his weight. The little, dense planet beside him made no acknowledgement that anything had entered its orbit. Swallowing his own reticence, Itachi outstretched his hand to place it on the back of Asaya’s shoulder. At first, her muscles and ligaments braced against his touch, unsure what to make of it. But after a moment’s silence, her body began to tremble like a cloud shattering to the earth.

For a place called “Water Country,” it sure did have a lot of long stretches where the ocean was nowhere in sight. Which was good, actually, because Asaya did not like the ocean. It reeked of fish, the air left a salty residue on her skin that made her feel crusty, and sitting still on a rocking boat for hours to days at a time was nauseating in more ways than one. The vegetation was lovely to look at, but with her limited familiarity she could only describe it as “tropical,” or maybe “lush” if she wanted to sound slightly less inarticulate. But at least in the forest she was walking with dirt beneath her feet.

Although, since said vegetation was much shorter than in many non-island regions, the one relief with which walking on land did not provide her was shade. The sun, especially in the late evening after a long day, was hot. Oppressively hot. And more importantly, the ultraviolet radiation burned. Asaya brushed her fingers over her inflamed cheeks and nose and groaned. The skin would start peeling tomorrow. “I’m going to die and dehydrate into a mummy.” She grumbled to herself.

Itachi, on the other hand, had a sugegasa to protect him, and even if he didn’t, his skin was the type to develop a decent enough travel tan to protect him from heavy sunburn. He glanced over to Asaya and her cheeks were bright red, almost glowing on her otherwise fair complexion like a mad perversion of an antique porcelain doll. “You do look rather ghastly.”

“Thanks.” She almost sounded sarcastic, but it was clear from the way she heightened the vowel that she wasn’t truly offended. Even without a mirror, she knew what she looked like.

“It’d be unfortunate if, despite all your escape attempts, you thwarted us by collapsing to death on the side of the road.” Itachi dryly remarked.

Hah, she thought after registering the joke. “Just let the sun preserve me and you can bring me back to your organization as an auto-icon. Maybe rig my corpse with some wires and I’m sure you can fool them.” As soon as she said it, she nervously regretted it. It was a macabre joke and he probably wouldn’t find it funny.

Curiously reminded of something, Itachi said, “There was a philosopher at the University of Fire Country who did that. About a century and a half ago.”

The way never missed a beat amazed Asaya. “Had himself made into a corpse puppet?”

“Close. Had himself made into an auto-icon and put on display. His name eludes me, but he founded utilitarianism.”

“I think I’ve heard of him.” She said brightly. “The sick man dilemma, right?” She smashed a fist into a flat palm for dramatic effect. “Should you let one sick man die to save five others?”

“I had thought so too, since it’s usually brought up as an example of utilitarianism, but that thought experiment was actually invented a century later by a different philosopher.” He explained flatly.

“I see, so the two have just become conflated by popular discourse.” She spoke just above a whisper.

“Yeah.” Itachi said. “Anyway, he also thought that since dead bodies cannot feel pain, it’s not immoral to do anything to them.” He paused when Asaya squinted dubiously at him, wondering what he was getting at. “For context, scientific cadaver dissections were a controversy at the time.”

“Oh.” She gave a relieved nod.

“And since he thought it his duty to exemplify his philosophies, he requested that his body be made into an auto-icon so as to help his family and friends better cope with his passing.”

“No way…” She breathed.

“If you want, you can see it on display at the university. Although, the preservation of his head was spectacularly botched so it’s kept off to the side. Supposedly, there is a tradition of young students sealing the head as a prank.” Itachi elaborated.

“That’s hilarious.” Asaysa’s eyes widened with a mixture of wonder and horror. “I’m sure he’d be happy to know his body has kept generations of students entertained.”

Itachi did not realize the hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I take it you agree with him?”

“Sort of.” She mused. “I’m afraid I’m too much a moral particularist to ascribe to any one idea completely. I think thought experiments and philosophical dialogues are enlightening, but we don’t exist within an experiment with nicely controlled variables and known outcomes, so we’re really just discussing ‘higher-order truths about chmess.’” She explained. “’The most good for the most people’ sounds great when you talk about it as an abstract ideal, but in reality there will always be scenarios where it breaks down. How does one quantify ‘the most good’ in any given situation? What if one of those five healthy people is a doctor, but two are human traffickers, and the other two are unknown quantities? Oh, and that one sick person is a researcher who’s close to finding a cure for cancer, but you don’t know if they ever actually will. See, now we’re just playing chmess.”

Asaya’s response was more thoughtful then Itachi was expecting. By his question, he’d meant ‘you have common ideas of what to do with your corpses’ not ‘you agree with his school of thought,’ but he appreciated It nonetheless. “I believe the typical counter argument would be to call you an ethically irrational flake.” He said, but she knew he was teasing.

Fighting the urge to nudge his arm with her elbow, she blushed. “Says the altruist who abducts women for his terrorist organization.”

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “That makes me a hypocrite, not irrational.” She thought him an altruist?

“Hypocrisy is irrational.”

“The rationality is that I never said I was perfect.” He quickly countered.

“Uchiha,” Asaya said.

“Yeah?”

“Chmess.”

They both gave a small, stifled laugh.

This was the most Itachi had ever spoken to Asaya about anything. She had known he was intelligent, but who knew he would make for surprisingly pleasant conversation? “Do you like philosophy?” She gently asked. “You know an awful lot about it.”

“You seem to, as well.” He removed his sugegasa as the temperature cooled with the disappearing sun.

Asaya could have rolled her eyes. He was like a cat the way he evaded straight answers. “It’s an interest, but I’m no scholar.”

“’Chmess’ isn’t exactly a casual reference.” Itachi noted.

“Maybe.” Her voice shyly diminished. “I sometimes dream about being a scholar. If I weren’t a shinobi, that is. Would you like to be a philosopher?”

“I’ve never really thought about being anything different. It’s not something I’ve prepared for.” A rational answer.

Asaya simpered knowingly as he walked beside her. I’m going to interpret that as a ‘Yes.’ Since he wasn’t comfortable speaking of himself, she shifted focus. “Tsuta, the boy I watch, wants to go to the Imperial University to study music. He wants to be a composer.”

“Isn’t he the Tsuchikage’s grandson? He’s not going to follow family tradition?”

“Nope. Couldn’t if he wanted. He has hemophilia.” Asaya explained. “Tsuta was destined for a more noble purpose than us.”

An interesting choice of words, Itachi thought, but he wouldn’t read too much into it.

“I’m jealous of him for it- that he gets to be whomever he wants. That kind of freedom is rare.” She said in tacit acknowledgement of her own desires.

Itachi could tell she was anything but. “Sounds like a good kid.” He watched her demeanor melt with affection as she thought of the boy. This was the first he noticed, however subconsciously, how kind her eyes were. How they seemed to illuminate tenderly with the settling twilight.

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew him. He’s kind of a brat.” An inkling of worry swirled around her. “He’s got a good heart, though. Eventually he’ll grow out of it.” Asaya turned her head towards Itachi and said, “You seem to enjoy a lot of freedoms yourself. What’s your favorite place you’ve visited?”

“I think, Kagami,” Itachi said pointedly, “that you are trying to be charming in an attempt to get me to lower my guard so you can try and escape again.”

Mischief flashed across Asaya’s face. “Guilty. But I also think it’d be more pleasant to travel in conversation than silence.”

Itachi eyed her suspiciously, but conceded. “You said you wanted to be a scholar. What would you study?”

“Hmmm… Using my wiles against me?”

“Maybe.” He smirked.

“Anything? I don’t know. Mathematics and linguistics are closest to what I do now, so not those. And not philosophy, because I get frustrated only ever reaching the end of a loop. Something in the humanities, probably.”

“That’s not a very well thought out dream, then, is it?”

“You know, it’s not very nice to make fun on people’s dreams, Philosopher-sensei.” She wryly teased back.

“I refer back to my statement on hypocrisy.”

“Sure,” Asaya chuckled. “So, where is your favorite place you’ve visited?” His profile was partially obscured by his cloak, but she found herself momentarily gazing at the clean lines of his nose and brow before quickly looking back at the horizon.

“There are a series of islands in south-eastern Water Country where the shores are seasonally home to bioluminescent phytoplankton that glow blue when agitated. They light up the beaches at night when the waves meet the sand. The locals and tourist traps call it ‘The Sea of Stars.’” Itachi said.

Finally, an answer. “Interesting. That’s a much dreamier place than I was expecting from you.” Asaya looked up at the sky as twilight dissipated. Little stars just began to emerge through the coming darkness.

“That’s because it’s not, but I thought you’d like the answer anyway.”

Asaya’s mouth fell open for a moment before saying “…I should have known when you referred to it as a ‘tourist trap.’” Throwing her hands up, she softly yielded, “Fine! I give up. You win.” And she amicably fell silent.

“Good game.” Despite the sunburn, Itachi could see a tint of amusement flush her cheeks. A lightness flickered within his chest before he quickly dismissed the feeling as insignificant. “Next time.”

Looking forward to it. Asaya’s thought, her stride a bit more confident.

Asaya furtively tried to scribble on her left palm with a black ballpoint pen, but the ink kept clogging in the cold temperatures of Snow Country. Frustrating, because she was so close to finishing her work. Eventually she gave up and slipped the pen back into her pocket and covered her hand with a lilac, cable knit, fingerless glove.

Snow country was cold. This was obvious and easily inferred, but it was still annoyingly true, Asaya thought while rubbing her hands together. So long as they were walking the frigid temperature was bearable because the physical activity warmed her enough. Or while sitting in front of a campfire like they did nightly. But she had neither in present circumstances.

Kisame stood some feet away with his back to her while he viewed an old feudal palace that had been converted to a samurai military outpost off in the distance. He and Asaya waited in their usual uncomfortable silence for Itachi to return from scouting the location. Their current mission was to sneak in and steal some valuable object sealed behind a barrier.

Weren’t fish supposed to be cold blooded? Asaya amused herself. Truly a biological wonder that Kisame did not freeze where he stood. The thought of tipping him over and shattering him to pieces didn’t not cross her mind. Well, at least he wasn’t actively antagonizing her.

Crunch, crunch, crunch… The sound of Itachi’s footsteps compressing the snow signaled his return. “It’s on the third floor. The easiest way in is to climb up the eastern flank of the fortress.”

“Is that not what Zetsu suggested earlier?” Asaya asked. Gently, but she still asked.

Kisame scowled. She had grown too comfortable for a captive.

“Yes, but he is prone to amusing himself at our expense.” Itachi answered sharply.

“Ah.” She shrugged.

“A patrol passes through every few hours. Is that enough time for you to open the sealed door?” Itachi directly asked Asaya.

“I don’t know. I’d have to see it first.” She answered. “If Zetsu is capable of passing through solid matter, why doesn’t he retrieve it? It seems much easier for him than us.”

Kisame answered, “If he could make anything other than his own body pass through solid walls, he would.”

“Oh.” She shrugged.

Cheeky bitch.

“How much time do you think you will need to open the door?” Itachi asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen it.” She repeated herself. It was the honest truth.

“Useless.” Kisame muttered.

“What are the odds you can open it in under an hour?” Itachi reframed the question.

“I don-” She began.

“Just answer the question.”

“Fifty-fifty?” Technically an answer.

Itachi breathed in slowly. Why had he bothered to ask when he knew she couldn’t give a meaningful answer if she wanted to?

“Could we sneak in, take a look at the seal, and then either open it then or leave and come back later with a different plan?” Not that Asaya should offer suggestions to terrorists, but helping was less boring than silent idleness.

“Generally speaking, that’s an ill-advised strategy.”

“Could-”

“Can’t Zetsu get a look at the seal and tell us what we’re dealing with?” Kisame suggested. It wasn’t a bad Idea, actually.

Asaya frowned.

Thinking for a moment, Itachi said, “I don’t know that he’d know what to look for. Asaya, what information would he need to bring back to you?”

Asaya rubbed the back of her neck. “A lot. Could he bring me a picture or replication of it?” Not that she didn’t already know the answer.

“No.” Itachi gave up on the idea as fast as he considered it. “And again, he isn’t always the most reliable informant.”

“So, we’ll just have to find out when we get there?”

“Yes.” Itachi sighed.

The three stood about 70 yards from the eastern flank. The fortress was impressive, at least in terms of size. Or, it wasn’t unimpressive. Or, at least Asaya thought it nice for a military outpost. But what did she know about feudal palaces repurposed into military outposts?

It stood five stories tall and sat right up against the sheer edge of a cliff. The architecture was obviously period appropriate, with tiered irimoya-style roofing and almost entirely wooden construction. It was definitely the palace of a feudal lord from the warring-states era that had since been repurposed into a military outpost for Snow Country’s samurai. Why else build something on the edge of a cliff, if not for natural defense?

“Do you think they will have anyone checking for two criminals and a woman scaling the side of their building?” Asaya asked while sizing up the building. Being an Iwa kunoichi, climbing near-vertical surfaces was second nature to her.

“Occasionally. And, Asaya,” Itachi’s tone lowered, “If you are thinking of intentionally getting captured just to escape us, don’t. They’ll kill you without asking questions.”

Actually, she hadn’t thought of it till now. “I thought samurai were neutral to towards all nations.”

“They are. Which is why they won’t care what you tell them before they execute you.” Was Itachi’s undiplomatic reply.

“Oh.” She shrugged. There was a chance he was lying, but she trusted him to know when her life was in danger.

“We’ll need to climb up to the fourth floor. Follow my lead and-“ Itachi noticed her curiously raised brow. “The item is on the third floor, but the only way to reach that section of the building is by a staircase on the fourth floor.”

“Ah.” She gave a small nod.

“Kisame,” Itachi addressed his partner,” when we reach the stairs, you’ll need to stay back and keep watch. It’s not heavily guarded, but you’ll need to prevent them from trapping us inside.”

“Understood.”

Itachi stepped forward first.

When they reached the walls surrounding the eastern courtyard, Itachi led them left for some yards before stopping and silently jumping up to latch onto the wall, scaling to the top, and peering over the edge.

The courtyard was completely dark with no patrol or stationed guards. However, on the second-floor balcony a guard with a yellow lantern was posted at the far corner overlooking the cliff. Itachi signaled behind him to Asaya and Kisame to stay put. After a few moments, the guard turned away and the lamplight dimmed to nothing as they disappeared behind the corner.

Itachi motioned for them to follow. Swiftly and silently, they darted across the courtyard, leapt up to the lowest-tiered roof, and then up to fourth floor where they then circled the wall until they reached a particular window.

Itachi again motioned for them to stop while he peered through the window pane. Patrols on the upper levels were not frequent, but there would be- inevitably- a guard posted by the entrance to the stairwell. Confident the hallway was clear, he grabbed a kunai and used it to skillfully pry it open with minimal noise. They climbed in and Asaya tried to shut the window behind them. It would close but it wouldn’t properly latch. “Tch.” She mumbled.

“Leave it.” Itachi said in a low whisper and tilted his head to the side to indicate she should follow. Which she did.

The hallways twisted in the dark as they navigated through them. Luckily, they encountered no one until they reached the stairwell, where a single guard waited.

Careening her head around the corner, Asaya watched as Itachi calmly and confidently approached. The guard startled, clearly having never expected to actually encounter an intruder in his career.

“H-Halt!” He turned and faced Itachi with a wide stance and hand on the hilt of his sword.

Itachi merely gestured with a single hand and the guard fell over unconscious. Like magic.

Somewhere in her gut, Asaya pitied the guard. Then she realized that she must have appeared the same when Itachi used genjutsu on her and she frowned in embarrassment over her own weakness. She followed Itachi down the narrow stairwell while Kisame stayed behind with the unconscious guard.

“So, what are we stealing, anyway?” The question just occurred to Asaya.

“I don’t know. I just know it’s inside.”

Her steps stalled for a brief moment. “So…?”

“It doesn’t really matter what it is so long as I know how to get it. It’s all the same whether it’s money, a scroll, or a teapot: sneak in, grab it, get out.”

“Or a person.” She thought he’d find it funny.

He gave only an indecipherable, short, low hum.

“What if it’s a 100-kilo gold statue?”

“It could be a corpse and the answer would still be the same.” Itachi wasn’t sure why she was asking. “I’d put it in a scroll for transportation, like the kind used to store weapons, and smuggle it out that way.” He looked surprised by her question.

Asaya interpreted that to mean he had thought her question silly. “I could make one of those.” She stated defensively. “Which is why I know they aren’t easy to come by. I just didn’t know you had one.”

Itachi faintly shook his head and turned away, as if something troubled him, but she was not sure exactly what.

At the bottom of the stairs, they found a windowless room with a smaller chamber walled off within it- a sort of room within a room. The entire thing was simply lavish: gilded panels with intricately detailed depictions of pine trees, rivers, and red-crowned cranes; hand-carved crown molding finished with dark lacquer; gold-plated brackets accenting the joint of every post and mantle; enamel ceiling coffers of shippo patterns accented with yet more gold. Garish and nauseating was what it was. Definitely the sort of thing a wealthy but not-to-high-ranking daimyo would have commissioned to fancy himself cosmopolitan, both Itachi and Asaya mutually thought. Dust and cobwebs had accumulated within every coffer and all the gold had tarnished to a dull luster. For all it’s former splendor, whatever use the room originally held had long lost after being converted into a military outpost. Its sole purpose now was the protect whatever was sealed away within the smaller chamber. They decided it was probably for the best that no one was regularly subjected to this tastelessness.

The smaller chamber matched the larger one- in that it was an affront to the senses- with the addition of a sprawling, black calligraphy pattern on all four sides. Reaching out and running a single finger down a line of ink, Asaya found herself appraising the craftsmanship of it.

“How much do you make for these heists? I imagine quite a bit if you’re willing to go through the effort of abducting me for this.” Another question that just occurred to her.

“Guess.” Her question amused him.

“10,000 ryo.” Asaya thought it was an overestimate.

“Multiply that by a factor of five.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“If someone is in a position where they need to hire a criminal organization like the Akatsuki, they will pay almost anything. They don’t have much of a choice.” Itachi wondered what she might think if she knew what Iwa had paid them, what Iwa had paid them for, or what debt Iwa still owed them. But he would not taunt her with it. “What do you think of the seal?” He changed topic.

“Let me see…” She walked around the perimeter of the small chamber to inspect the seal’s text. At first, the large size of it had intimidated her, but circling back to Itachi, she concluded, “I think it’s just big. It seems to repeat the same pattern throughout.” Recognizing a hint of hopefulness in his face, she anticipated his next question, “I’ll still need to parse it out, but I think I can solve it quickly enough. How much time?”

“Not much. Maybe thirty minutes.” Itachi said.

Asaya’s eyes rounded just a bit.

“It is what it is.”

Kisame waited by the stairwell’s entrance. Somewhat restless, but he was used to waiting for extended periods until his strength was called for. If it was ever called for. He understood very well why stealth was needed for this mission- and most missions. But, Kisame was a strong man. His talents were wasted. Or at least underutilized. What a shame.

“So, it’s not too complicated. But there is a catch.” Asaya said.

“Is it going to explode?” Itachi eyed her with an unimpressed affect.

“They don’t always explode.” Smirking, she playfully rolled her eyes. “It requires fire to open, or fire energy. It’s not unheard of, but I not something I’ve seen a whole lot of, either, because it’s so simple.”

“I think you can solve it.” Itachi remarked.

“Your confidence in me is flattering, even though I know you’re just being nice. But there is one problem.” Her tone waivered.

Instead of asking, he simply kept looking at her.

“I can’t use fire.”

“So…?”

“I don’t know. Let me think about it.”

“Tch.” Kisame glanced over the pathetically unconscious guard beside him and heaved a sigh. It was small fry entertainment but Itachi could have at least given hm something. He shifted his gaze back and forth down each side of the definitively empty hallway.

Asaya looked Itachi dead in the eye. “I think have an idea, but I’m going to need your help.” An anxious finger tapped twice on the seal.

“Alright.”

“I’m not sure it will work- and I’m sorry if it doesn’t- but it’s the only I’ve got, so if you don’t mind helping…” She blathered insecurely.

“Asaya, just tell me.”

Recomposing herself, Asaya explained, “I would like you to generate some fire energy so I can try and channel it.”

Itachi nodded but said nothing, waiting for further instruction.

“Again, I’ve never tried this before.” Her voice waivered again. “I don’t really know if it’s even possible, but it’s the only idea I’ve got.”

Itachi spoke as if to reassure her. “What do you want me to do?”

Placing both palms flat on the center of the seal on the inner chamber’s double doors, she then instructed, “Put your hands on top of mine. I’ll make some hand signs, and you’ll conjure some fire energy. Then, I’ll try and channel it into the seal.”

Affirmatively, Itachi stepped towards her and positioned his hands over hers. He felt her body tense up and shy away just a little as he stood next to her. The breadth of his palms enveloped hers, the tips of his long fingers wrapping over her nails. He had always been able to overpower her, but now she felt acutely brittle as he touched her. As if he could crush her like a wren.

Lifting one palm, she began to make a sign.

“I can’t make one-handed signs like you.”

“Oh, right.” Asaya had forgotten most could not. And it was probably best not to, anyway.

Awkwardly, she brought their four hands together. It took a few tries for her to figure out how to articulate their fingers cohesively. His bulk felt clumsy and slow to her, making her stretch her digits awkwardly wide to accommodate. But Itachi readily adapted to follow her lead, keeping his hands anchored to hers but relaxed enough to allow her to guide their movements. Asaya made a series of four signs- ox, sheep, rat, then dog- and pressed her palms back onto the door.

A short, sharp inhalation caught in Asaya’s throat as Itachi’s energy poured into her hands and immaterially wisped through her fingertips and up her arms. It felt warm and soft- velvety, even. However, it soon built up to a mild pinpricking sensation across her skin. Holding his energy was just like sitting too close to the fire: soothing at first but spiteful if one overstayed their welcome. Not quite a true burn but enough to make one flinch.

She realized she needed to channel it out of her body or she might suffer for it. Using her own energy, she tried to push his outward towards the seal. She met with only resistance, like slamming into a brick wall, and she fought the instinct to recoil. Itachi must have felt something, too, as he now looked at her apprehensively.

“Don’t do anything.” Asaya warned, now acutely aware of how reckless this was. She bit her tongue in anxious thought. Instead of pushing, maybe it made more sense to pull? She tried moving energy around his, like wind through the trees, and coaxed it into the seal. The black ink under their hands began to singe and burn in a red-orange glow as it peeled away and dissipated into the air.

“It worked!” She whispered in breathy excitement.

Asaya’s moment of triumph was short lived.

Itachi’s energy suddenly surged through her hands and began to blister her skin. The ink no longer peeled away, but lit up as it absorbed their combined energies. First red, then yellow, and finally to an almost divine white.

“Ah!” Asaya winced painfully as his energy scorched her. “Stop giving me so much. I can’t control it!” Panic quickly overcame her as the white-how glow rapidly spread around the circumference of the inner chamber.

“I’m not giving you anything.” Itachi insisted. He genuinely only felt her pulling it out of him. “Stop taking so much.” From her reaction he realized the situation was far worse than he initially thought.

“I’m trying but I can’t cut it off. I- I can’t even remove my hands.” Were she not so afraid, she would have screamed the words instead of just gasping them.

“What do you mean-”

Kisame leaned his broad shoulders against the wall beside the stairwell and wantonly kicked his heel on the floor. What is taking so long? Just as he tilted his head back to touch the wall-

Boom!

He felt the vibrations through his shoulders and skull. “Shit.” A minute later he heard shouting down the hall and he grabbed Samehada’s hilt. Three samurai rounded the corner and Kisame’s small, yellow eyes flared with excitement.

“Asaya, wake up!” Itachi yelled as he shook her unconscious form. He leaned over and wrapped his arms under her back and knees to pick her up when she groaned and sat up.

Immediately she grabbed the back of her head where she could feel a bump rising. She opened her eyes but had to immediately shut them. Everything was so bright it burned. And not just her eyes, but her whole face, her limbs, and her lungs as she breathed in. Everything was on fire, she realized.

“Damnit, Itachi, get up here!” Kisame’s voice bellowed down the stairwell.

“Are you alright?” Itachi offered his hand to help her stand.

“Yeah, thank you.” She coughed through the smoke as he pulled her up. Blinking, she shifted her attention to the sealed chamber. It, too, was on fire, but the doors were blown wide open. Through the flames she could see the shadow of circular object centrally displayed within.

“We have to go-” Itachi began to say.

Asaya impulsively ran into the chamber and grabbed the object off its pedestal. It was warm, almost hot to the touch, and heavier than she expected but not cumbersome. As she ran out of the chamber Itachi pushed her up the stairs ahead of himself.

Kisame lunged and struck down the final samurai with a wet, savage squelch. Although, the sound was hard to hear over the roaring flames around him. He was surprised that the samurai had been brave enough to stay and fight him in the inferno. Then again, he thought while looking at the burning walls, why hadn’t he bothered to evacuate himself? Oh, right, because he enjoyed the thrill.

Kisame turned around to see Itachi and Asaya emerge from the stairwell. “What happened?” He yelled down the hall.

“Long story.” Itachi said. “But we have the object.”

Kisame noticed Asaya clutched a round item to her chest. “Well, whatever. Let’s go.”

Itachi made to step forward, but the burning wooden construction gave a long, loud creek before the ceiling collapsed between the two men. Itachi stepped back, turned, and said to Asaya, “Follow me.” before running down the hall.

The hallways, once seemingly cramped in the dark, were lit up. Itachi and Asaya raced through them trying to find an exit- any exit- to escape the burning castle. They coughed and wheezed through the smoke. Hot air and ashes dried out and coated their throats and lungs.

Eventually, they found a window. Itachi thoroughly smashed it with his elbow in three hits. Glass shards cut into his palm as he lifted himself through the window with a hand on the bottom ledge. He then extended his arm to Asaya to help pull her through and he caught her by the shoulders as she landed. The ceramic tiles clacked under their feet.

They now found themselves overlooking the sheer face of the cliff. Itachi looked in every direction while trying to find an escape. Behind, below, and beside them was nothing but fire. The only place to go was up, but even that would only be safe for so long.

“Itachi, we need to jump.” Asaya told him.

“We’d fall to out deaths.” Itachi kept looking for a solution.

“No, we won’t.” She insisted. “Trust me, please.” Her hand gripped is forearm.

He hesitated a moment before nodding. Alright. He seemed to wordlessly say.

Asaya kept her hand on Itachi as she counted “One, two, three!”

Itachi would be a liar if he claimed that the fall did not terrify him during the few seconds while the air ripped through his hair and the distance between them and the earth disappeared in a matter of heartbeats.

With her free hand, Asaya weaved a few signs and then outstretched her hand towards the ground. A dense, violent whirlwind erupted beneath them to form a sort of cushion upon which they floated weightlessly for a moment before gently landing on their hands and knees in the thick blanket of snow, some of which now clung to their hair and clothing after being kicked up by the wind.

Asaya brushed the snowflakes from her fringe. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” Itachi swept the snow off his shoulders. “You?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know you could use wind. That’s quite a useful technique.” He was clearly relieved to still be alive.

Instead of acknowledging the compliment, she said, “Sorry, I would have told you but there wasn’t time.” She looked back up the cliff to the burning castle from which they had jumped. The drop had been a much longer than she expected. Although, that was a good thing because it meant no one would dare follow after them.

Itachi joined her in looking up at the castle. Flames spewed from every side on all three upper levels. At least it was magnificently on fire. “I thought you said it wouldn’t explode.” He meant it in jest, but she did not react to it as such.

“It didn’t.” A twinge of shame made her look away. “We did- I did. I messed up. I’m sorry.” Reaching into her coat’s inner pocket, she pulled out the object they had stolen. “Here.” She offered it to him.

Itachi accepted it, but before she could withdraw her hand, he grabbed her left wrist and flipped it over to expose the red, swollen burns forming on the dorsal side. “You’re hurt.” He spoke with a subtlety she didn’t want to place. “If it blisters, don’t break them.”

Startled, she snatched her hand back before he had the chance to examine further. “It’s nothing.” She deflected his comment while scrambling to put her lilac gloves back on. “And your hand is bleeding. The glass might have cut a nerve.”

Itachi flexed the flesh of his thumb where the glass window had cut him. It was bloody, but he could move it and he did not feel any imbedded shards. “It’s fine.”

Silencing the urge to contest the issue, Asaya looked back up the cliff to see the top floor of the castle collapse. “I think-” her shoulders fell and she rubbed the back of her neck. “I think what happened is that when I guided your fire energy into the seal with my own, mine got stuck. It wasn’t designed for anything but fire so it so it couldn’t properly activate. It just kept drawing in and amplifying yours. Which, when mine prevented activation, turned it into a battery that could only hold so much until it… exploded.” Asaya sheepishly explained, still unable to look at him. “My natural affinity is wind. I should have known this would happen. I’m sorry.”

“We have the object.” Itachi held it up. “It doesn’t matter how.”

“But I-”

“Unless you consider the loss of a minor feudal lord’s third-rate architecture a global tragedy.”

“No.” She felt she ought to thank him for his sentiment, but the thought of it made her curiously shy. “It’s a magic mirror, I think.” She noticed his bemused expression as he examined it. “If you reflect light off of it, it will project an image.”

Itachi arched a dark brow.

“Yeah. I’d demonstrate, but I don’t have a proper light source for it.” Asaya said. “Usually, they project whatever image is on the reverse.”

Itachi flipped the bronze disc over to reveal two peafowl courting one another amongst camellia blossoms.

“That’s a fairly mundane image. Chances are that it’s a false back and the real image is something different. Something secret.”

“That would explain why it’s so valuable. Let’s go, then. We’ll meet Kisame at the rendezvous location.” Itachi turned and walked away.

Asaya’s footsteps echoed Itachi’s through the snow and into the birch forest with a crunch, crunch, crunch…

‘I want to.’ Her flushed lips voicelessly insisted after breaking away from their kiss.

She brought her lips back to his neck, then kissed her way from his collarbone, to his bare chest, and all the way down his abdomen. She delicately took hold of his erection, slowly pumping it as she settled between his legs. A clear bead of precum rested on his tip. She studied it for a moment, both intimidated and fascinated, before opening her mouth and sticking out her little, pink tongue to lick it.

He twitched in her hand, bare hips reflexively bucking ever so slightly.

She seemed to contemplate the taste of his fluid as another glassy bead formed, her other hand wandering to his inner thigh. Her rosy, kiss-swollen lips parted to take his tip into her mouth. She experimented with her tongue as her hand continued to stroke his length.

She paused, then looked up at him while his tip remained in her mouth. Then she gave a small, but affirmative nod as if responding to something he said, and he reached out his hand to caress her hair.

Gradually, more and more of his shaft disappeared between her lips as she worked him. His abdominal and thigh muscles clenched and squirmed in response. Eventually, she swallowed over half his length. The hand that had been stroking him moved to grip his hip, helping to control his involuntary bucking into her throat. Her head gently moved up and down, adjusting pace until his body fell into rhythm with hers. His fingers intertwined with her loose strands, as if needing something to anchor to. All at once, every muscle pulled tight as the base of his erection visibly pulsed.

As his body returned to a relaxed state, she pulled back and licked away the last of his come before it could drip down his softening erection. She looked unsure of what to do next while daintily covering her lips with her fingers. A moment later, she swallowed, her pale neck rippling as his ejaculate ran down her throat.

Her eyes met his again as if he were speaking to her, then she blushed and looked away. She whispered something he could not decipher. She turned her face back to him, looking as if she were trying to suppress a smile, then leaned forward and lovingly kissed just above his-

Sasuke’s black eyes burst open. “Fuck,” he immediately cursed under his breath. The night was dark and clear with a refreshingly cool, late spring breeze. And by this hour the insects had all quieted down. An almost painfully strong erection throbbed between his legs. 

He rolled over, sat up, and spread his knees wide to make himself more comfortable. A long time had passed since he last dreamt of her. Almost two months, maybe? Of course, she would come back with a vengeance. He should have known.

It felt bizarre; his level of boner was completely disproportionate to his level of arousal. A ratio of infinity to zero. So unaroused, in fact, that he didn’t even want to rub it out just to make it go away.

The erection thing was new, too. He never had one after waking up before. Well, not after dreaming of her, anyway. Whatever he might have felt while dreaming always vanished when he awoke. This time, though… He wanted to strike something in frustration.

His ear twitched.

Sasuke wrapped himself in his cloak and stood up. He grabbed a kunai from his holster and threw it into a thick branch overhead.

“C’mon, man! You know it’s just me.” Naruto jumped down to land just beside Sasuke.

Well, at least his pants were still dry. “What are you here for, dumbass?” Sasuke had his own personal brand of greeting.

Naruto grumbled something unintelligible, then said, “Kakashi-sensei needs you to deliver this directly to the Tsuchikage.” He pulled a scroll from inside his orange track jacket and handed it to his friend.

Sasuke tucked it into his cloak, then proceeded to pack up his things.

“And also,” Naruto’s voice lowered, “Kakashi-sensei told me to tell you that rumor has it the Tsuchikage’s getting pretty senile. His granddaughter and an assistant are unofficially overseeing a lot of his duties, so you might need to go through them. Just something to keep in mind, I guess.”

Sasuke hummed, unimpressed. “You’d think Kakashi would also have an assistant he could bother with errands like this.” He complained, but he turned to head off with the scroll all the same. “Later, dumbass.”

“See ya ‘round, too, jerk!” Naruto shouted as Sasuke walked away. A devious smirk spread wide across his face. Just to annoy his friend, he added, “I’ll tell Sakura you’ve been dreaming about her!”

Sasuke audibly groaned and rolled his eyes. Dumbass.

Looking at the dark horizon, he placed a hand over the scroll hidden in his cloak. Iwagakure, huh? Sasuke thought. What a fucking coincidence.

Part I

Lightning Country was beautiful. Like Earth Country, it was mostly mountainous, but differently so. The land’s overall altitude was much lower, and the mountain peaks were skinny with near-vertical faces, each one spread so far apart that the clouds bundled between them like spun sugar. Karst mountains, as she learned they were called. Asaya thought it the most beautiful of all the places she had seen while traveling with her Akatsuki abductors, Itachi and Kisame.

They had cut through Lightning Country once before on their way to Water Country, where they had met two other members of the Akatsuki: Sasori, the punctual puppet master; and Deidara, the… well, she had mixed feelings after meeting him again.

The trio had left a moderately-sized town called Takayama a few days ago, where Itachi and Kisame had completed a bounty of some sort, and were currently on their way out of Lightning Country heading towards the Land of Iron for another Akatsuki mission that required her particular skills. Novel, how they traveled back and forth across countries like that. At least to Asaya, anyway.

Now somewhere in the south-central region of Lightning Country, they were surrounded by a sprawling forest of magnificent, ancient redwoods. Asaya had read about these famous trees before, and she had seen many exquisite photographs in publications, but actually walking amongst them felt like an absurd fantasy; some specimens’ trunks were comedically large in relation to human height- she felt as if she had taken a sip from a bottle labeled “Drink Me”- while the dense, early-morning fog drifting through the canopy filled the colossal, emerald conifers with an ethereal, ghostly echo.

Asaya tilted her head to the side in an effort to mitigate the sound of sepia needles rustling under her steps. She hesitated. Four Kumogakure hunter-nin hid in the surrounding area. At first, she thought Itachi and Kisame might be waiting to see what the hunter-nin’s intentions were, but they had been followed for a suspiciously long time. Do they not realize…? she thought.

“Jump!” Itachi barked at her.

Itachi and Kisame both leapt forward while Asaya jumped back to evade a bolt of lightning crashing into where they had stood. Three of the four Kumo nin appeared from the trees. The first two attacked Kisame, while the third attacked Itachi. That left one remaining in the trees studying Asaya. While the two Akatsuki were well-known criminals whose skills, strengths, and weaknesses were written in every Bingo book, she was an unknown quantity to the Kumo hunter-nin. Did she even know how to fight? If so, what was her skill level? Her specialties? What elements could she command? It was wise of them to take an extra moment to assess.

Asaya did not feel inclined to fight. She was at a marked disadvantage without her weapon, the string of beads Itachi had taken from her the night they met, and she thought that if the Akatsuki were going to hold her hostage, they could at least do her the courtesy of protecting her.

Unfortunately, it seemed her plan to remain idle would not work when the fourth, hidden hunter-nin threw a sizable water release technique at her. She planned to throw up an earth wall at the last possible second and dive underground. She would readily admit that it was the most basic and predictable of all Iwa shinobi strategies, but it reliably worked the way she wanted it to.

Itachi had kept Asaya in the peripheral of his vision while fighting the third Kumo nin. She stood absolutely motionless while the hidden hunter nin prepared to attack at her. What was she possibly thinking? Itachi dodged the swing of the third Kumo nin’s katana, then body flickered over to Asaya.

Just before she lifted an arm, Asaya felt herself suddenly gathered up and carried off. She nearly squealed, but instead settled on bracing one hand against Itachi’s chest. Her eyes widened when she recognized the feel of her string of beads- her weapon- underneath his cloak. Maybe it was hasty and reckless, but she wouldn’t miss the chance. She tucked her hand into his cloak and grabbed her beads just before he unceremoniously dumped her onto the forest floor. She winced when her left hip jarred into the ground.

Asaya looked up to see Itachi spin around and block the third Kumo nin’s katana with a simple kunai, creating a metallic cling that rung through the air. Either he did not realize she grabbed them or he was too distracted by the Kumo nin to do anything about it. She wasn’t sure, but it didn’t really matter. Just behind them, the fourth nin, the one who had thrown the water release ninjutsu from the trees, ran towards Asaya with their katana drawn, ready to cut her down while she lay seemingly defenseless.

The fourth Kumo nin jumped up and raised their katana over their head to slash downwards. Asaya smirked and swiftly cast her newly recovered beads. They multiplied and extended with her chakra, looping themselves around the Kumo nin’s arms, legs, and neck. With a deft rotation of her wrist, Asaya pulled the string. The beads sliced clean through the Kumo nin’s flesh and bone. The limbs, torso, and head fell lifelessly apart, scattering on the ground before her. Thick streams of blood oozed out of every severed body part only to be soaked into the redwood needles littering the forest floor.

A profound exhilaration coursed through Asaya’s veins. She finally felt powerful again, finally able to meaningfully fight back. She glanced over at her two Akatsuki captors. Kisame had just slaughtered one Kumo nin, their corpse only a spattered pile of ribbons, and it looked like he would soon overpower the other. Itachi was locked into a battle with an admittedly skilled katana-wielder, but she knew that, ultimately, it would not take long for Itachi to win.

Asaya sprinted recklessly into the forest, not caring which direction she went so long as it took her farther away from them.

Itachi cursed under his breath as he watched Asaya disappear behind a redwood, unable to prevent her escape while fighting the Kumo nin.

Part II

Fuck, Asaya thought, grinding to a halt in the middle of the impossibly large, dense redwoods.

Of course, Itachi found her. It was always him, every time- never the one she stood a chance of outmaneuvering. She did not know exactly where he lurked in the monstrous redwoods surrounding her, but she could feel his presence like no other, steadily encircling her like a ravenous wolf calculating the kill. She clutched the long string of beads around her left wrist. At least this time she had her weapon back, not that he couldn’t just subdue her with an illusion like a lullabied infant.

Asaya could picture him in her mind’s eye: black fur and raised hackles, white fangs glinting with salivation, red eyes appearing and disappearing as he weaved through the trees with a stride so precise that he floated silently over the dry forest debris. She felt he was toying with her by taking his time. Knew he was, actually, by the simple fact that she could sense him. If he had wanted to conceal his presence, he could have done so easily. He was either flaunting his skill or trying to intimidate her into taking reckless action. Probably both. How arrogant.

Itachi stood some distance behind her perched high atop a redwood branch. He looked down on her in a backwards, three-quarter profile as she immediately stopped running after he flooded the area with his chakra. He had not yet decided how to confront her. He could easily outrun her and trap her in an illusion- again- or he could defeat her the traditional way. Having never fought her, he was somewhat curious to see what she could do if given the chance.

Maybe he should give her the choice: fight or flight? If she hared off, he would trap her with an illusion. If she braced to defend herself, he would attack.

He watched closely as she unwound the string of beads from her wrist.

Fight it was.

Asaya knew trying to outrun Itachi was futile when he had proven time and again that he was faster. Trying to fight him was futile, too. From everything she had seen of his skill, he outclassed her in every category: speed, strength, stamina, and especially experience. Her stomach dropped like lead. Resistance was futile. The corner of her lip twisted up into a repugnant smile. She spun a single bead between her right middle finger and thumb while her ring and pinky grasped the string. Maybe it would all be in vain, but she could at least bite back out of spite.

The weight of him landing on the forest floor a few meters behind her reverberated through the ground and into her heels. Instinctively, she turned with a swing of her beads. They extended considerably in length and cut vertically downwards.

Itachi dodged by quickly jumping to his right. Asaya’s beads slapped into the ground where he had stood, leaving behind a thin line in the dirt after she pulled the string back to her. He made three rapid signs while deeply inhaling, then exhaled with two fingers pinched in front of his mouth. “Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!” Itachi shouted before a burst of flame erupted from his lungs.

How typical of him, Asaya thought as she weaved a sequence of signs- ox, rabbit, and dog- then yelled, “Earth Release: Great Wall!” and a large slab of earth rose up in front of her to block the fireball. Then she made a snake sign with her left hand, “Earth Release: Hidden Mole,” and sunk into the ground.

Typical, Itachi thought. She was incredibly fond of that strategy.

Underground, Asaya tried to move away from Itachi, but she only felt is footsteps following close behind her, covering her path. Dammit, she huffed internally. She had forgotten that his sharingan could see chakra, so hiding underground was useless. She made the sign for ox and whispered, “Earth Release: Stone Thorn,” and summoned a large spike just under where Itachi stood. She felt his feet lift off the ground as he jumped back, and she sprouted from the earth.

Asaya raised her arm to whip her beads at him, but a hand gripping her forearm stopped her swing. A shadow clone, she thought, turning her head around to see a perfect copy of Itachi’s form standing behind her. She pivoted around on her heel, reached out with her free hand to grab his bicep, then forcefully shifted her weight backwards. A brief look of surprise manifested in shadow clone Itachi’s eyes as they fell towards the ground. Asaya kneed him in the stomach just after her back hit the ground, and she used the momentum to catapult the clone over herself. She rolled and pushed herself back up onto her feet just in time to see his clone disappear with a poof as it collided with the thick trunk of a nearby redwood. Now, where was the real one?

The feintest hint of a vibration echoed through the ground just behind her. Asaya jumped up and spun around while tucking her knees tight under her torso, just in time to avoid a sweeping kick to her ankles. Itachi knew taijutsu was a relative weakness for her. She needed to put as much distance as possible between them again to regain the advantage. At the apex of her flight, she wove a sequence of signs, and she landed flat on her feet while shouting, “Earth Release: Splintering Fault!”

Sharingan perceiving the nanoseconds in which the first fractures appeared under his feet, Itachi reflexively leapt back just before the earth surrounding Asaya cracked apart and violently ruptured upwards in large, jagged fragments. Countless redwood needles flew chaotically in every direction.

One black eyebrow twitched as Itachi landed just outside the attack radius. It irritated him that she had so easily succeeded in putting distance between them. With her particular style, she had the clear advantage in ranged combat. Unless, of course, he wanted to take the easy option and use genjutsu- which he had already challenged himself not to- or use one of his more powerful techniques, which would be overkill. And, even if he had wanted to, he could not afford the physical cost. Asaya, on the other hand, had more than her fair share of chakra and stamina. She could afford to inundate her opponents with ninjutsu for a good while if she wanted.

Before the needles could settle, Itachi saw Asaya’s beads fly at him in a wide, horizontal arc. They sliced clean through the boulders between them as they traveled parallel to the ground. Itachi jumped upwards just before the string passed, evading it the same way she had done to his earlier kick. Suspended high in the air, he saw that Asaya had just maneuvered out of the rubble. Clasping his hands together, he shouted, “Fire Release: Phoenix Flower!” and a wide shower of fire rained down towards her.

Asaya felt the heat of the flames at her back, and she turned to see Itachi’s ninjutsu hailing towards her. She knew that if she just threw up another earth wall to defend herself, she would lose sight of Itachi and he’d use it to his advantage just like before. Instead, this time she laced her beads into a pattern between her fingers, “Light Release: Cat’s Cradle, Heaven’s Wheel!” The woven string of beads expanded into an intricate, circular net as she cast them before her, glowing an almost-fluorescent, pure white as it spun clockwise and formed a barrier against which Itachi’s fire fizzled impotently into nothing. Through the negative space, she saw Itachi scowl.

They stared at each other across the wreckage, having come to a momentary standoff. Asaya pondered why Itachi, having had countless opportunities, chose not to use an illusion on her. The only possible explanation, clearly, was that he was mocking her. Her cheeks flushed with anger.

Itachi carefully considered his next move. He needed to get close, but the time it would take to cross the distance between them would leave him vulnerable to being ensnared by her weapon. With his agility and precognition, he could likely dodge whatever she threw at him, but the risk still wasn’t worth it. Getting caught was game over. He saw something spark across her face just before she wove one-handed ox and dog signs and stomped her right foot into the ground, summoning yet another large earth barricade.

His sharingan could see her chakra through the obstruction. She ran straight back into the trees. Itachi easily navigated himself over the remains of her earlier attack and the wall to chase her down through the towering redwoods. It didn’t take long at all to close the distance; he was simply faster than her. Although, he felt a well-known and unwelcome burning begin to simmer in his chest, telling him to finish this quickly.

When he was only a stride away, she suddenly pivoted back and lunged directly at him with her right fist ready to punch. He was not surprised that she turned to fight him, but he was surprised she chose to use taijutsu instead of another ninjutsu attack. She wasn’t low on chakra yet.

When he reached out with his left hand to grab her right wrist, her left arm swung upwards. As soon as her left forearm connected with his, the string of beads she gripped in her hand snapped and wound tight around his wrist and forearm. Smug excitement bloomed on Asaya’s face, like a cat about to eviscerate a mouse.

Red sharingan spinning wildly, his precognition saw her right hand begin to form half of a dragon sign for a lighting release, and he cursed her ability to use one-handed signs. Now he understood why she turned to fight him in hand-to-hand combat; she planned to electrocute him once she bound him.

Itachi grabbed her right hand with his own, interlacing their fingers to prevent her from completing the sign. Her face morphed from joy into an intense combination of shock and fury. She jerked her hand back with such force Itachi felt like her fingers might rip off, but his hold on her remained. She thrashed with her whole shoulder trying to escape him, but he refused to let her go. Deadlocked, he knew that so long as he remained tied to her, he couldn’t let her hand free, nor would she untie him because then she would lose her only advantage.

Itachi saw her knee rise up to strike him, and in a split-second reaction, he pushed her forward. Precariously balanced on one leg, Asaya’s knee buckled, and she stumbled backwards. Itachi instantly realized his miscalculation when both the beads tethering him and his hand gripping hers pulled him forward with her as she fell flat on her back.

The weight of Itachi’s body landing on hers crushed the air from her lungs in a painful, wheezing cough. He winced as her breath hissed past his ear. He pushed himself up off her chest by pressing down onto her hand and forearm, and she siphoned air back into her lungs.

They stubbornly refused to look away from each other, the air between them growing fervid as their labored breathing stagnated. Black tomoe of his sharingan in a measured rotation, Itachi studied her lying beneath him; rosy lips parted to release delicate gasps, bright eyes framed by soft lashes. Asaya turned her head away from him then, and her creamy neck quivered as she seethed.

“Are you finished?” Itachi asked as if nothing had happened.

Her lip curled, and he thought she might scream or spit in his face.

“Get off of me,” she whispered with stifled vehemence.

Itachi noticed her beads had retreated from his wrist, and that the hand he firmly clenched had flattened, her small fingers splayed wide as if to say, ‘I yield.’ He suddenly became aware of the way his hands pressed hers into the bed of dead redwood needles beneath them. He maneuvered off of her to stand beside where she lay then stretched out his hand. “Give them to me,” he said.

Asaya sat up, but still would not look at him.

“You can give them to me, or I can take them from you,” Itachi warned.

She stiffly thrust up her left hand so he could take the string of beads and tuck them back into his cloak.

The atmosphere around them shifted, as if a dam had burst and they now stood in the slow stream of water trickling out of an enormous pile of concrete and steel wreckage. He waited patiently for her to process whatever thoughts and emotions swirled through her head.

Asaya eventually rocked back onto her heels and calmly stood up. She dusted off her pants and sleeves, then ran her hands over her long, mousy hair to smooth the errant strands. Her motions appeared suspiciously mundane and mechanical to Itachi. Finally, Asaya gave him a cloyingly expectant look.

Itachi wordlessly turned to walk back in the direction from which they came knowing she would follow behind him.

Asaya replayed their entire battle in her mind, and an opaque crimson smoldered in her thoughts. Just when she almost had him, his sharingan had allowed him to see what she was going to do before she did it. If she wanted to have any real chance of escaping him, she realized, she would have to find a way to defeat his sharingan first. She could do that, in time.

FORLORN HOPE I

Forlorn Hope: A persistent or desperate hope that is unlikely to be realized.

FORLORN HOPE II

Pale moonlight filters into a dark bedroom through an open window. Asaya stares at the moonbeams hitting the wooden floorboards, watches the silver light cut through the air. She finds it difficult to sit up. Her body is unexpectedly weighed down and she is only able to prop herself up onto her elbow. She swings her other arm over her waist to discover why.

Her belly is round, noticeably pregnant, but not heavily so. She is somewhere in the stages where her pregnancy could still be hidden with an oversized sweater. She runs her hand over the curve, strangely unalarmed, and ponders the life inside her.

Someone else’s hand- one larger than hers- places itself on top of her swollen belly as well. She recognizes this hand, has felt it over her body countless times.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A baby girl suckles quietly at Asaya’s breast. Asaya does not recognize the nursery room she is in. She sees lush, verdant trees through a window framed by white, translucent curtains. The baby girl wraps one tiny hand around her mother’s finger as she feeds. Once full, the baby girl unlatches herself from Asaya’s nipple with a tired sigh.

A pair of arms gently takes the baby girl from Asaya, and she watches as their daughter falls asleep cradled in Itachi’s arms.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Asaya sits at a breakfast table in an unfamiliar kitchen with red cabinets, a silver countertop, a mint green fridge, a yellow rice cooker, and a window over the stove with a view of a garden. The only thing she recognizes is Itachi sitting across from her, and sitting adjacent to them is a little girl, a toddler, with round eyes and soft waves of wispy, black hair.

The little girl watches Itachi closely as he grasps a small chunk of white rice with his chopsticks and eats it. She looks at his hand and fingers, as if studying his grip and the way he articulates the utensils. She drops her pink baby spoon on the table and grabs Asaya’s chopsticks from their rest. Asaya only sips her tea in mild surprise while watching the little girl fumble with the chopsticks. Grains of rice and broccoli florets fall onto the table as the little girl tries to manipulate the utensils into gripping her food, her brow furrowing. Asaya smiles, amused at her daughter’s tiny hands trying to master the unwieldy utensils.

Asaya reaches forward to help, but she is momentarily surprised to find she can only lean so far before the curve of her belly touches the edge of the table. A curious expression blooms on the little girl’s face as Asaya positions the chopsticks between her fingers into an almost proper grip.

The little girl sticks her chopsticks back into her rice, but this time she uses them to shovel out a small portion between the two sticks. The sticky rice adheres to the wooden utensils, and the little girl carefully brings the food to her mouth to eat.

The little girl grins proudly when Asaya chuckles, proud that she succeeded. She turns to look at her father expectantly.

Itachi’s gaze softens, and he tenderly brushes a lock of his daughter’s hair aside as she smiles radiantly at him.

A painful thumping in Asaya’s temple forced her awake. She cursed inwardly. She occasionally suffered from migraines, and it often meant that she would spend the day lying down uselessly. What a waste of a weekend. Although, judging by the fiery light filtering through her curtains, the day had already gone by.

What a peculiar dream, she thought. Bizarrely vivid and tactile, she could still feel her daughter nursing at her breast and her children moving in her womb.

Asaya had never wanted children. It seemed cruel to her, actually, to force another being into existence for the sake of one’s own entertainment. But her dreams betrayed her, and she clenched a fist tightly over her chest as a confusion of intimacy, hope, and sadness swirled inside her at the thought of carrying his children. She brushed her fingers over her stomach as she lay in silence. It was funny; for all her disgust at the thought of motherhood, with all its damned expectations and restraints, she didn’t mind imagining it so long as it was with him.

Did Itachi want children of his own? Asaya assumed not because of his criminal status. But, would he have wanted them if reality were different? She had never actually asked him.

Because it didn’t matter, she told herself. They would never marry. They didn’t need to plan a life together. She found herself frowning at the thought, and she winced as her temple pounded again.

As clan heir, he would have been expected to marry and have a minimum of two children, or as many as necessary to produce a son. His family would have chosen an excellent bride for him, and they probably would have had their first child around the same time of their first anniversary. He would have been a good husband to his wife and father to their children.

Or, would he have simply met some other girl and fallen in love with her instead? Asaya sneered, both in jealousy for this imagined woman and at her own audacity. Instead, she mocked herself.

It was only a pretty dream, after all.

“Good morning, Sunshine!” Deidara exclaimed while ripping open the hotel room curtains.

Asaya immediately rolled away from the cursed light beaming through the glass window and drew the covers over her head. The motion made her nauseous, as if her stomach had rolled ten seconds behind the rest of her body and then continued rolling. “Go away,” she pathetically whined.

With a smug grin, Deidara grabbed the edge of the sheets and pulled. “So how are you feeling this morning, hm?”

“I hate you,” she grumbled. This was like the worst hangover she could imagine: light and sound overwhelmed her senses, she had a painful migraine, and she felt like she needed to vomit but couldn’t.

“I hate you too, Princess. But you can either get up and dressed or starve, un.” Deidara grabbed her clothes from where they had been neatly folded atop the dresser and tossed them on the bed next to her.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well, too bad. I am, and I will drag you downstairs in your underwear if I have to, yeah.”

Asaya wouldn’t put it past him. Slowly, she propped herself up and got dressed, her limbs tremoring as she did so. The idea of food repulsed her.

As she wobblingly stood up, Deidara offered his hand and said, “You’ll feel better if you eat something, un. It’ll level out your blood sugar.”

The room spun as she rose to her feet. Her grip on his hand helped keep her steady through the woozy sensation. At least she felt better than she did last night. Last night… the memory sparked in her mind. Where is he? she wondered for a moment. She was surprised he’d leave her alone with Deidara again, but maybe he knew she’d feel too weak to try anything.

“Breakfast?” Asaya asked.

“If you can make it down the stairs fast enough, un. You slept in pretty hard, yeah.”

“Oh,” she wasn’t surprised.

The dining area of the hotel was surprisingly full. The ambient clatter of the kitchen and fellow diners prickled in Asaya’s ears as she stared at the rice and miso soup before her.

“Eat,” Deidara said sitting next to her.

She knew he was right, but it wasn’t so easy to override the nausea. She felt his glare burning the side of her face. Reluctantly, she picked up a morsel of rice and ate it. It was bland and tasteless, but she didn’t feel the need to regurgitate it.

“See, it’s fine, yeah,” Deidara said.

“Yeah,” Asaya quietly admitted.

Itachi covertly observed the interaction. He found it interesting that Deidara seemed to care about Asaya’s wellbeing given the way they acted before. They spoke just above a whisper to keep the conversation to themselves, but Itachi could hear them so long as he paid attention. Itachi found it impressive that Deidara was behaving so even tempered, that Asaya could make him behave so despite their initial hostilities.

“How are things in Iwa, un?” Deidara asked her.

“Same as ever,” Asaya said.

“Not surprised, hm. Do you still work for the Tsuchikage’s family?”

“Yeah, sometimes. I don’t know why they keep me around.”

“You know why, un,” Deidara raised a brow at her.

“Shut up. Junichiro married Sachiko, by the way, they’re expecting a child next spring,” she was obviously trying to change the subject.

“I’m not surprised,” Deidara fell for it. “How’s Minako, hm?”

“She’s dead,” Asaya blinked. “A little more than a year ago.”

“What happened?”

“What do you think? She died on mission,” Asaya placed her hands in her lap and picked her nails. “You know how it is for women in that division.”

“Yeah, well, that sucks,” Deidara said, a little uncomfortable. “Anyway…”

The conversation continued for a while like that, with Asaya deflecting attention from herself by talking about the lives other people, people they had known in common: Junichiro, Sachiko, Minako, the Tsuchikage, Tsuta, Kaede, Isamu, Daichi, Kurotsuchi, Tetsuya, someone named Madame Fukurou… nothing all that important, just superficial gossip. Until-

“I used to hate women like her, like Sachiko,” Asaya said, and Itachi noted a subtle shift in her tone. “Women who achieved a high rank just to marry a rich man then immediately retire and pop out a baby at twenty-two. I looked down on it as a waste that they’d train to be a jonin or whatever just to be a rich man’s housewife. I’m sure all those highly specialized skills come in handy when you’re folding his laundry, cleaning his kitchen, and changing his baby’s diapers,” Asaya shook her head and pinched her brow. “Now, I’m just jealous. I get it. You get a nice two-level house and don’t have to think about paying your bills if you play your cards right,” she turned her head to look at Deidara, “I should have spent more time chatting up the guys in headquarters when I had the chance instead of studying. What the fuck was I thinking, DD?”

Itachi respected her sentiment, but he couldn’t help but feel offended. His mother had achieved jonin rank, married his father, the future clan leader, retired, and birthed him at age twenty-two. But it wasn’t like the picture Asaya painted; his mother had been happy- more than, even. In Iwa, on the other hand, there weren’t as many options for women.

Deidara gaped at Asaya in silence, chopsticks frozen in the middle of grasping a diced radish.

“No wonder the entrance examination system was caught artificially inflating male applicants’ scores; why bother spending village resources training a girl if they’re just going to be out of the workforce within five years,” Asaya slumped her shoulders. “Alright, I know that’s not the right takeaway from that scandal, I’m just mad,” she sighed again and raised a pointed finger. “What I’m really mad about is how a lack of options and restricted social mobility forces women into being housewives, in which case, yeah, you might as well do whatever you can to catch the most eligible bachelor, as absurd as it is. And these women don’t even realize that’s what’s happening!”

Deidara hadn’t moved an inch since she began expounding. “Sasaya, I’m just eating breakfast, yeah.”

“Ok, fine, but you get what I’m saying,” Asaya said, “and don’t call me that.”

“Yeah, I know. Anyway…”

Itachi found himself strangely fixated on their conversation. He didn’t know how he should interpret it. Asaya displayed a much more candid, nuanced personality conversing with Deidara than she ever had speaking with him. Only now did he realize just how reserved she was around him. Well, of course she would be. How could he forget?

He had seen it, though- in feisty glares from the corner of her eye when she thought he wasn’t looking, when her ear tilted to eavesdrop, in self-amused smirks and seemingly innocuous remarks- all of which betrayed someone more than the girl he knew. Itachi looked at the dark green seaweed on his plate while the two continued talking.

“Something wrong with your food, Itachi?” Kisame asked. He must have noticed Itachi had stopped eating.

“No,” Itachi replied.

After they finished breakfast, they left town, whereupon the two groups parted ways. After a plain, slightly awkward goodbye, Sasori and Deidara took off towards the southeast while Itachi, Kisame, and Asaya continued north.

“So where are we going?” Asaya asked with a wheeze, still recovering from whatever she had been poisoned with.

“North,” Itachi said.

Asaya had been traveling with them long enough to know that meant they probably didn’t have a real destination and were just heading to the next town to wait for orders.

That evening, Itachi, Kisame, and Asaya stayed at an unnoteworthy roadside inn. They reserved two rooms like they always did. Asaya understood their practice to have arisen from the need for privacy, among other possible explanations. Itachi and Kisame spent almost the entirety of their time together. Not having these breaks from one another would be maddening.

Asaya definitely could not be trusted with her own room. At first, they alternated nights watching her, but now she usually stayed with Itachi. She did not sleep much on the nights she spent in the same room as Kisame, even if he had never tried anything indecorous. Itachi found it was easier for everyone if she just stayed with him. Besides, if she ever tried escaping in the night, it was easier for Itachi to stop her with a genjutsu than for Kisame to swing samehada. She was grateful for that small mercy, however ironic.

In any case, Asaya thought while lying in a lumpy twin bed, the hour was late. She was surprised she hadn’t fallen asleep yet considering how tired and weak she felt.

“Are you hungry?” Itachi asked in the darkness. He never fell asleep before she did.

He wasn’t wrong. Asaya had skipped dinner because of how sickly she still felt. She regretted it now because she couldn’t sleep on an empty stomach.

“No,” she answered. She knew he didn’t believe her.

“You should have eaten dinner,” he said.

Asaya did not appreciate being told what she should have done, but she gave him the benefit of the doubt and decided he intended it to be a helpful suggestion. Actually, she realized, he was probably just annoyed that her decision to skip dinner meant he had to stay awake that much longer. She sat up in bed and crossed her legs, having half a mind to turn the lights on because she knew she wouldn’t be getting to sleep anytime soon.

“How did you know him?” Itachi asked apropos of nothing.

“What?”

“Deidara. How did you know Deidara?”

“He’s just someone I knew from my academy days.”

“And what does that mean, exactly?” Itachi never let her off the hook.

“And what are you trying to get at, exactly?” There was a not-so-subtle bite in her words.

Thinking quickly, Itachi said, “I find it peculiar that-”

“You think he’s my ex, don’t you? You’re not the first.” Before he could respond, she said, “You must not know him very well if you think I’m what he’s interested in.”

Itachi paused, considering her words. He was sure they traipsed around something that was probably none of his business. “I may not know him well, but it is curious that you do, considering he defected from your village. You don’t seem the type to befriend delinquents,” Itachi said calmly. He couldn't tell if she was offended by his assumption or if she found it amusing.

Asaya sighed in a release of tension. “That’s quite the assumption. What makes you so sure?” she said, and Itachi swore he heard her laugh under her breath. “He’s a punk, but he’s not as bad a person as he pretends.”

“He’s an arsonist for a terrorist organization.”

“He’s not an arsonist, he’s a demolitionist.”

“He’s both.”

“Ok, fine, but besides that,” she said, “he’s not so bad once you get to know him. He’s just… misunderstood.”

 “You were close friends, then?” Itachi wondered why she felt the need to defend him.

“We met at the academy as children. He was one of the few who would talk to me.”

Because he found you attractive, Itachi thought, but deep down he knew that wasn’t quite right.

Asaya smirked, amused by the memories. “DD and I- Deidara and I were terrible. Actually, we used to take turns sneaking into the bakery down the street from the academy to steal cinnamon rolls. If we waited until after classes they’d have sold out, you see.”

“So you bonded over a shared love of pastries and stealing. How virtuous.”

“Well, it wasn’t like they were going to sell anything to children who should have been in class. And we left money on the counter for them. Or, at least I did. Deidara said he did but he was probably lying.”

“And where did two children get the money for said cinnamon rolls?”

Asaya bit her lip. “…I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I thought so,” Itachi raised a smug brow. “Stealing is stealing. Who’s the philosophical hypocrite now?” Itachi said, referencing their conversation a few days ago. “Oh, right, you’re a moral particularist; you can invent whatever’s convenient for you, no rationality required.”

Asaya blushed, “Shut up. That’s not what that means and you know it.” In a playful tone she said, “Oh, wait, I remember, ‘the rationality is that I never said I was perfect.’”

Itachi sat up and stared at her across their twin beds. His lips parted as if he were on the verge of speaking.

“Didn’t you do anything mischievous with friends as a kid?” She could tell by his expression he had a memory in mind. “Play in someone else’s yard, hide a stray cat in your bedroom closet, steal candy from the cabinet your mother didn’t know you knew about?”

“I used to leave a shadow clone in class so that I could train with my friend.”

“Wait,” Asaya looked at him incredulously, “if I understand you correctly, you technically didn’t skip class so that you could do extra credit?” She dramatically placed a hand atop her breast. “I am shocked you would do something so terrible.”

Itachi gave her a look.

“I’m just teasing you. It’s funny, is all. How long did you get away with it?”

“Just the one year I was at the academy.”

“I see.” Of course he was only an academy student for one year. He probably didn’t have many friends or enjoy much free time as a kid. His entire life was probably dictated for him with little regard for his needs like friendship or self-exploration. That seemed to darken the mood, so she said, “Deidara was caught, eventually. He got too greedy and started stealing more than just two cinnamon rolls,” her voice softened, “He never told on me, though. He took all of the blame for every stupid thing we ever did.”

Her words sounded bittersweet to Itachi’s ears.

“People used to think I was a good influence on him,” she rolled her eyes. “I was just as terrible.”

Itachi suspected she didn’t realize how unreliable a narrator she might be. She was an expert at managing Deidara’s temperament. “You must have missed him when he left.”

“I miss the person I think he could have been if things were different.” She scowled then added, “If Iwa were different.” She sighed and said, “Anyway, you mentioned you had a friend. What was their name?”

“Shisui,” Itachi said, and a sudden hollowness filled his chest, “Uchiha Shisui.” How long had it been since Itachi had spoken his name?

“Shisui. What an interesting name,” she remarked. “You were cousins, then. What did you do for fun?”

“We used to train together. He was particularly talented at the body flicker technique. I learned a lot from him, actually.”

Asaya blinked twice, “…Anything else? I mean, for fun. What did you do for fun? Like card games or something.”

“We used to explore the forest outside of the village walls together. He was rather,” a smile tugged at Itachi’s lips as he thought of the right adjective for Shisui, “intrepid.”

“'Intrepid.' Is that what you liked about him?” Asaya hummed musically.

Itachi didn’t quite know how he felt talking about Shisui. Asaya meant no harm, but…

Sensing some ambivalence, Asaya quietly said, “I’m sorry, never mind, I shouldn’t have asked.” She realized that this Shisui person probably wasn’t alive anymore.

“It’s alright,” Itachi said.

“It’s late. We should get some sleep. Goodnight.” Asaya laid back down and covered herself with the blanket. She heard sheets rustle and the bed creak slightly as Itachi did the same.

Amegakure was insane. Never in her wildest dreams would Asaya have imagined this dense, towering metropolis to be the village of such a war-ravaged country. She had expected something much more modest. How had these people managed to build all of this when the country was continuously torn apart by larger nations? Upon further thought, though, it seemed fitting for an isolationist country to have built itself up in cold, steel spires- a deterrent to outsiders and protection for its inhabitants, like sea anemone sheltering small fish from a gigantic and equally hostile ocean.

It really did rain all of the time, though. Asaya had thought the name was hyperbolic; that it rained often and heavily, but not constantly.

She had no idea Itachi and Kisame were taking her to Amegakure until they were four days travel from the village. Kisame had mentioned it in passing to Itachi during a meal. Although she was surprised, she refrained from asking any questions. They wouldn’t answer, so she could only guess. Why would a criminal organization operate out of a hidden village? Maybe it had something to do with Rain Country’s isolationism. It must give them protection from interference or espionage from the larger nations. She might find out more when they arrived.

No one questioned them when they entered the village. No one was even at the gate to question them. They simply walked right in as if entering the jaws of a concrete whale. Itachi and Kisame led her through grungy, neon-embroidered streets until they reached one of the countless towers, and there they led her through empty, labyrinthian hallways and staircases to the top floor. She didn’t know why, but her heart began to pound in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

A redheaded man with multiple facial piercings stood alone in a dark room with only the glow of the city beneath them filtering in through a large window. “Itachi, Kisame, it has been some time since I’ve last seen you both,” the man said then shifted his attention to Asaya. “You must be Kagami Asaya. Welcome to Amegakure. We are glad you are finally here. I am Pain, leader of the Akatsuki, and this,” he gestured towards the corner beside him, “is Konan.”

A blue-haired woman with a white, paper flower pinned into an offset bun emerged from the shadows. She said nothing while assessing Asaya with dark eyes and an empty expression.

Asaya found the woman strikingly beautiful, her elegant features defined with smoky shadow and liner. A single black piercing accented her plump lower lip. Instinct compelled Asaya to respond with a ‘Nice to meet you’ or some such formality, but instead she said nothing and clasped her empty hands together.

Quickly realizing Asaya was not going to offer any response, Pain asked, “Do you know why you are here?”

Itachi glanced at her from the corner of his eye, half expecting her to say something irreverent.

“A deal,” Asaya answered flatly, and Itachi didn’t relax.

Pain seemed unbothered, however, and continued. “Yes, and your end of it is to lend us your unique expertise for a particular task.”

“I understand,” she said.

“Good.” The redheaded man- Pain- briefly glanced out the window overlooking the city and said, “You must be tired from traveling so far. We will explain your purpose in more detail tomorrow. Konan,” he addressed his companion, “please take our guest to her room.”

The blue-haired woman approached Asaya with a mechanical indifference.

On impulse, Asaya nervously glanced at Itachi for a split second. When her eyes shifted back, Konan’s expression had subtly changed as if Asaya had caught her attention like a soaring hawk spotting a rabbit hidden in the grass.

“Follow me,” Konan instructed.

Konan led Asaya back through the steel hallways and down a flight of stairs. She opened a red door to a moderately small room and gestured Asaya inside. Flipping on the light, Konan said, “Be sure to rest. I will collect you tomorrow.” Then she closed the door.

Asaya heard the soft click of a lock before Konan’s footsteps disappeared. The room they had given her was surprisingly hospitable. As nice as any of the hotels she had stayed at, at least. There was a full-sized bed with a plush blanket and fluffy pillows, a table with a lamp and chair, a dresser, and a door to what she assumed was a bathroom. Most surprising was the window. She thought they would have put her in a dungeon for all the trouble they knew she could cause.

It didn’t really matter at this point, she thought. Even locking the door had been a superficial gesture. Asaya could pick the lock, pry the window open, or maybe even crawl through an air vent, but she would not. Asaya would stay if only because she had nowhere to escape to. And they knew that. It was the only reason they allowed her to be alone.

“How was your travel back?” Pain asked Itachi and Kisame after Konan escorted Asaya away.

“Boring,” Kisame answered, “nothing interesting happened.”

“She gave you quite a bit of trouble during your previous travels. I’m surprised,” Pain said.

Neither Itachi nor Kisame appreciated the statement that they had struggled with her, but they couldn’t deny it either.

“She gave us no trouble on the journey from Iwa,” Itachi replied. And Asaya hadn’t. She had indicated not one modicum of resistance- not towards them, anyway. “But she is incredibly susceptible to genjutsu; it isn’t difficult to subdue her.”

“Good,” Pain said, “because after your next assignment you will be returning to help ensure her compliance.”

Kisame gave him a confused look, “What?”

“While Konan is most reliable, I would not burden her with the sole responsibility of watching the girl. She has other matters to attend to.”

But he could burden Itachi and Kisame with her forever, they thought in simultaneous resentment.

“The both of you, however,” Pain continued, “are available and, like before, suited to the task in ways in which your fellow Akastuki are not. You will be staying in Amegakure to ensure her compliance.”

Kisame clicked his tongue in displeasure.

“Yes, sir,” Itachi offered no indication of his inner thoughts. He didn’t want to admit it, but he didn’t entirely know what they were.

Asaya sat awake in bed in the early hours of the morning long before the sun breached the horizon. Her stomach twisted in hunger, but she was devoid of any desire to eat. Some of the nicer hotel rooms she’d stayed at had a coffee machine or a kettle. This room had no such amenities. She wondered if she’d bother if there were.

She resented being awake. She had slept but only a little. She wasn’t tired, though. She wished she could have slept right until that woman- Konan, she remembered- opened the door. What time might that be? Morning, evening, afternoon? Not that it would make a difference.

It was nice, though, that it rained constantly. She hated the idea of silence.

A knock sounded through the red door. The round clock mounted on the otherwise empty wall read 10:38 AM. Asaya wondered if the clock was telling the truth.

The door clicked unlocked and opened to reveal Konan, who had now arrived just as she had said she would last night. “Good morning,” she greeted plainly.

“Good morning,” Asaya echoed back. She was fully dressed sitting at the edge of the bed, having bathed much earlier.

“If you are ready, please follow me.” Konan said.

Asaya did. They remained silent as Konan led her down the tower. They trekked down countless flights of stairs. The only sound was that of their footsteps lightly bouncing off the concrete walls. Judging by the elevation of the window in her room and the number of flights they descended, Asaya concluded that they must be somewhere in the basement.

Konan glanced back at Asaya before opening one more door.

On the other side was a gigantic room, more like a cave with unrefined stone walls and cool, damp air. A gigantic statue occupied the far half of the room. It depicted a grotesque, humanoid form and stretched from the floor to the ceiling. Its bony arms were crossed and with shackled fists clutched in front of its chest. Its nine bulging eyes appeared blindfolded while its head tilted down and its jaw strained tight, a painful gag wedged between its lipless teeth.

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

Asaya startled. She hadn’t noticed that the redheaded man, Pain, stood just to her left. She did not answer his question.

He continued anyway, “This, as you’ve probably inferred, is why you are here.”

What is it? Asaya wanted to ask.

“This statue is of critical importance to our organization, to the Akatsuki. However,” Pain gestured towards the statue, “it is bound and sealed in its current state, and therefore functionally useless.”

Asaya studied the shackles and bonds covering the figure, the gag in its mouth in particular. It was disturbing. Her own teeth unconsciously ground together. She wanted to ask why it was so important, but she didn’t, hoping he would explain if she just waited for him to keep talking.

“I understand seals are your specialty, undoing them in particular.” Pain’s eyes sharply met Asaya’s. She saw that his eyes weren’t normal, that they were a violet purple with black, concentric rings. They appeared unnatural to the man’s face, she noted, as if they belonged to someone else entirely. “Can you unseal it?”

Asaya nervously bit her lip before finally whispering, “I don’t know.”

“Can you try?” Like many things said to her, it wasn’t really a question.

“Yes, I can,” she answered.

“Good. Konan will be here should you need anything.” Pain took his leave through the door from which the two women had entered- the only door.

Konan watched the girl nervously look at her and then back at the statue dumbfounded. “Do you have an idea where to begin?” Konan asked flatly.

“Not at all.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

PART II

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“How is it?” Konan asked Asaya. “Any progress?”

“Sort of,” Asaya answered while capping her pen and folding her notebook. She had been trying to decipher the symbology of the statue for quite some time. She examined every inch of it for clues, which, given the statue’s size, was an unending process. Every time she looked revealed another piece of data- a new set of symbols, a variation in material, or a peculiar design. But never, of course, any information revealing what the statue truly was. Who made it? How? For what purpose? Asaya liked to think that it was some sort of doomsday weapon because it made for a good joke about criminal organization clichés.

“There’s just so much to uncover,” Asaya said. She didn’t know when they expected her to unseal the statue. Days, months, years? She’d been too afraid to ask. Time weighed her down like iron sand falling from an invisible hourglass, filling the air around her both slowly and all at once.

“I understand,” Konan said, almost soothingly. “We’ve tried for ages without success. We are hopeful you will fare better.”

Asaya only offered a mild smile while another grain of sand pelted onto her shoulder.

“Tell me, how are you finding Amegakure? You traveled for quite some time. It must have been exhausting.” Konan shifted the conversation.

Asaya immediately wondered why. At no point previously had Konan indicated she was interested in casual conversation. She had been stoic and indifferent- hollow. The blue-haired woman had to have some obscured motivation. Even if she wasn’t after something right now, she was at least trying to lay the groundwork for something later. Asaya would play along if only because she recognized this game for what it was: one from which she had no escape. “It was nice,” she said, “to visit so many different places, but it is also nice to sleep in the same bed every night.” It’s not like I’ve been anywhere else in this city.

“Really? I can’t imagine Itachi and Kisame made for great company.”

What was she trying to get at? Was she trying to get at something? “The scenery was lovely,” Asaya deflected. “I’d never really left Iwa. I never thought I’d see so much of the world. The view from the window in my room is fascinating, by the way. I never imagined Amegakure was so big.”

Konan tiled her head slightly, as if she weren’t quite satisfied with Asaya’s response. “Amegakure has done well for itself. In square kilometers we’re not as large as most hidden villages, but we are densely populated. The skyscrapers are what makes it unique, don’t you think?”

Asaya thought it strange that a rogue nin would use the operative ‘we’ to establish a connection between herself and Amegakure, but maybe the woman had just been living here long enough that it felt like home to her. “They certainly create an unmistakable atmosphere. Why does your organization choose to stay here? It seems counterintuitive for criminals to operate out of a hidden village.”

“Did no one tell you?” Konan asked without a hint of genuine inquiry. When Asaya shook her head, she only said, “No, I suppose they wouldn’t have.”

Asaya thumbed the metal clip on her pen. She was sick of being kept in the dark, of being made helpless. “This… thing,” she tilted her head towards the statue, “It’s a challenging puzzle.” Maybe if she played her cards right, if she could make herself appear naive and earnest enough, Asaya could coax some information out of the blue-haired woman. “Much more complicated than anything I’ve ever encountered before. It’s bizarre, really. I wish I could use the libraries back in Iwa.”

“I wish I could make that a possibility for you, but I can’t,” Konan said, and Asaya felt a sincerity in her words.

“I still appreciate the sentiment.” Even if it is ultimately self-serving. “Do you-” Asaya finally worked up the courage to ask “- do you know what this statue is? Or it’s provenance? It might be helpful to know.”

After a reluctant silence and heavy sigh, Konan finally said, “It’s known as the Demonic Statue of the Heretical Path. It was created by the Sage of Six Paths when he removed the ten-tail’s chakra and created the tailed beasts. For which Iwa has two jinchuriki, I believe.”

But that story’s a myth, Asaya thought while somehow keeping a straight face, No one actually believes it. The Akatsuki really were a doomsday cult. Well… fuck.

“Incredible,” Asaya said naturally without missing a beat. “That explains it’s singularity.”

Konan looked at her in a way that indicated she knew what Asaya was really thinking. “I know it’s a lot to take in. Just give it a fair consideration.”

Asaya bit her tongue as a thought sparked in her mind. “I just realized,” she said spontaneously, “that you control this place, don’t you? Whatever civic structures are in place are just puppets for the Akatsuki’s shadow. I feel so stupid not figuring it out sooner.”

Konan leaned back in her chair and folded her hands neatly in her lap. The corner of her rosy lips twitched almost imperceptivity.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

PART III

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Sir,” Konan respectfully addressed a figure standing on a steel chain-wire balcony. The figure faced away from her overlooking the city.

“Konan, it’s been a long time since I’ve been in Amegakure, hasn’t it? I’m here because I’ve been informed that Itachi was finally able to deliver our guest,” the man stated.

“Yes, she has been here for some time now. She’s adjusted well. Actually, Itachi and Kisame will be back to assist in watching her after their current assignment. She’s quite weak to genjutsu, so Itachi will be particularly helpful,” Konan explained.

The man scoffed. “Then I wonder how she was able to escape from him. Hopefully he’ll have better luck this time.”

Konan softly batted her long lashes and raised an elegantly arched brow at his words. “Itachi reported that they were separated when escaping from a fortress in Iron Country, during the mission to retrieve the shinjitsu mirror. The fortress caught fire and she escaped by jumping from a top floor and off the face of the cliff below. Itachi said the only reason he knew she survived was because he couldn’t find her corpse.”

The man dismissively shook his head. “You’ve been observing her, right? What do you think of her? Think she can she can finally do it?”

“I think she’s our best option. Asaya is certainly learned. And she’s surprisingly diligent, especially given the circumstances. She’s made much more progress in weeks than anything we’ve tried in years. But,” Konan said heavily, “in her own words, she’s just relying on memory and whatever she can interpret from studying the statue itself. She’s stated that she needs to research the libraries in Iwa to learn more. She’s quite the scholar.”

“A ‘scholar,’ huh? Interesting,” the man remarked and turned to walk back into the room, pulling his hood down.

“She’s hit a wall, sir. I’ve no reason to suspect she’s only pretending or stalling.”

“Overall, it’s good to hear good to hear she is who we want, but it’s still frustrating. We can’t just let her go back to Iwa for a field trip.” He hummed in a moment of thought, clearly concocting some plan. “Which books does she want to look at?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Konan said.

“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter too much. She’s got an idea of what to look for, right?”

“I imagine so. I can ask her if you would like.”

“There’s no need. I’ll ask her myself. I’ve been curious to see her anyway.”

“Yes, sir.”

The rain never stopped. Never even a break in the clouds. Often, it didn’t feel like rain, but sand pouring down from the sky instead. Asaya liked to imagine it burying Amegakure and all of its skyscrapers. In the distance, she could see a great lake peeking through the black towers. That must be where all the rain water went instead of flooding the whole place.

The Akatsuki had given her an electric kettle and an assortment of teas for her room after she had requested them and a few other amenities. She flipped the switch and meandered back to the round table to sit and wait for the water to boil.

She worked on unsealing the statue for many hours a day, but many hours were still spent alone. Too many, it felt, because her mind always found something to fixate on or some unhappy memory to haunt her. Naturally, she had been thinking of the months leading up to her first encounter with the Akatsuki, where she was kidnapped after walking out on a formal reception. After being instructed by the Tsuchikage’s son to walk out. In hindsight, Asaya still felt stupid for not realizing that the whole thing was a setup.

The stepping stones leading up to it glittered in her memory like cursed diamonds. Asaya wondered if they still would have betrayed her if circumstances were different. If only she had just made a different decision. Or a series of different decisions. An effect is simply the accumulation of a thousand little causes.

A table of hors d'oeuvres spread out in front of Asaya. She studied each of the fanciful things as she walked the length of the table: wedges of cheese and slices of vegetables wrapped in thinly cut meat, crackers with jam and nuts, pink curls of shrimp, fruit shaped like stars and hearts. She thought about taking one.

“I recommend the shrimp,” an older woman appeared at Asaya’s side. She appeared to be in her fifties, with peppery grey hair styled into a stately chignon. Her kimono was appropriate for a mature woman: a rich golden-brown decorated with juniper sprigs. The thick silk of it lay pristinely tailored without a single fold out of place.

“Thank you, but unfortunately, I’m allergic. I’ll take your word for it, though.” Asaya replied.

“A shame. Seafood is an uncommon treat. Everything is delicious, though. You can’t choose wrong,” the woman kindly assured her.

I would hope so, for the tax revenue they spent. “They certainly look delightful. Too good to eat, really. It’s almost a shame, isn’t it?” Asaya politely smiled, feeling the need to straighten her shoulders.

“Yes, they certainly are. I’m Minamino Kaoru. Pleased to meet you,” she introduced herself.

Asaya recognized the surname. This woman was the wife of the director of the Commerce Bureau. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” Asaya braced herself. “My name is Kagami Asaya.”

Kaoru quickly assessed Asaya head to toe: clothes, posture, age, dialect, and anything else that could give a hint. “That’s a lovely name for a young woman. You must be in the forces. What division are you in?”

Asaya knew what answers she anticipated. “I study seals, or fuinjutsu, under Madame Fukurou.” But that was not one.

Minamino Kaoru paused just a second too long before saying, “What a privilege. I’ve met Madame Fukurou. She’s quite the matriarch.”

“As they say. I am very fortunate to be able to learn so much,” Asaya said. Would she dare say anything to the contrary?

“I’m sure,” Minamino Kaoru tilted her head slightly as she spoke. “Well, be sure to enjoy the evening. It’d be a shame not to.” She turned and walked away.

Asaya interlaced her fingers and ran one thumb over the other. She glanced back at the pretty things perfectly arranged on the white-clothed table. She decided that none of them suited her, after all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Standing with her back flattened against a wall, Asaya scanned the room. It was spectacularly elaborate and large, with a full wait staff carrying silver trays of champagne flutes. Everyone in attendance was dressed in expensive kimono or other appropriately formal attire. Asaya did not own a kimono- certainly not one nice enough for this- and had tried to weasel her way out of attending by citing her lack of wardrobe. However, Kurotsuchi, one of the Tsuchikage’s granddaughters and a friend of sorts though the years, had generously offered to loan Asaya one of hers. Asaya was disappointed that her attempt to avoid the party had failed, but at least she felt pretty in the cerulean and maroon silk embroidered with amaryllis and freesia. Even if it was unseasonable.

The event was the Spring Equinox Festival, more specifically the Iwagakure officials’ evening celebration. Every family and person of high-enough status was in attendance. And Asaya, who had generously been extended an invitation. Madame Fukurou, Iwa’s grandmaster of seals and her sensei, always warned her not to take their invitations, but someone of her status could not reasonably refuse. She only wished he Tsuchikage’s family wouldn’t be so “nice” to her. She was only ever a fish out of water. Mostly, she would spend these occasions chatting with Tsuta, her younger friend and one of the Tsuchikage’s grandsons, and making polite conversation with just enough people to say she wasn’t a bad sport.

Asaya’s hazel-brown eyes flitted from person to person, eventually fixing on one in particular.

Tsuta’s oldest cousin was in his early thirties. He had a wife a few years younger than himself. What was her name? Yuriko? Aiko? Hanako? Something feminine ending in -ko. Anyway, Asaya hated her. The woman hardly said anything to her, so little that Asaya couldn’t remember the sound of her voice. She only knew the woman to smile and nod in perfect etiquette.

And she was beautiful- gorgeous in her sapphire blue kimono with a golden pins twinkling in her dark hair. A gemstone butterfly fluttering effortlessly between clusters of guests. She always knew just the right thing to say or do like magic. And she was genuinely happy to do it, to make good impressions on behalf of the Tsuchikage’s family. Everyone found her charming.

Tamiko, that was her name.

Tamiko had given her husband three children: first a boy- splendidly- then a daughter, and finally a second son. Asaya guessed the couple was satisfied after the second boy. The woman had raised them wonderfully with a loving and mild temperament. Not one of the three children had ever caused a fuss. She carried them at her breast, soothed their cries, and fed them healthy, homecooked meals. Tamiko shined on her husband’s arm at every occasion. Asaya couldn’t think of a more perfect woman.

She could think of a worse one, though.

Asaya had spent so much effort trying to figure out how to be more like Tamiko. How to be happy in one’s place in the world. How to be what one was supposed to be.

Damnit, Asaya thought when an unexpected someone appeared in her peripheral vision.

“Hey, Asaya,” Tetsuya greeted. “I was hoping I’d find you here. It’s good to finally see you again. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Tetsuya,” Asaya said, pretending to be a bit more startled than she actually was. “I’m glad to see you, too. I’m surprised you were able to take time off from your new assignment at the Imperial Palace.

“Believe I or not, I’ve been there for over six months now. I can’t really say I’m new anymore.” He shrugged. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good, same as always. How has the capitol been? I can’t believe it’s been so long.” She decided she would keep him talking about himself.

“It’s certainly been an experience. You should visit some time. You’d love it. It’s totally different from Iwa,” he said.

“I wish I could. Maybe someday.” They both knew it would never happen. “Tell me about it.” She looked up at him as they spoke. Had he grown another inch or two? He was 6’ before he left, was he even taller now? No wonder he was a guard.

“Well,” Tetsuya scratched the back of his neck, “there’s no shortage of stuffy bearcats and pompous state parties, so the palace isn’t much different, but the city is so much better. There’s just so much more to do. Oh, and all the food tastes better. There are theatrical productions and other performances seasonally at the university- the student ones are open to the public, so anyone can get tickets for free. The night life is amazing. It’s all neon lights and packed bars, even on weeknights. I can get off a shift at ten and everything will still be open for hours.

And I’ve met the most interesting people: journalists, chemists, artists- and they think I’m interesting for being a shinobi. I had a great conversation with an investment banker, once, believe it or not.” He gave a small chuckle then continued, “Oh, and I know you don’t like the Imperial Family, but they have the most beautiful horses and stables. Like something from a fairy tale.”

“Well, it’s not like the world they live in is real, yeah? But I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying it,” Asaya said. “I’m jealous.”

“Don’t be. I spend most of my time listening to out-of-touch politicians and bureaucrats sucking the Imperial Family’s dick.”

Asaya covered her giggle with a modest hand and suppressed a snort.

Tetsuya smirked, “I’m not joking. You should hear the sounds they make.”

“Shut up,” Asaya looked away, biting her lip to keep it from smiling.

“You really should come visit, though,” Tetsuya said, then appeared to bite his own tongue. “But really, how’ve you been?”

“I’ve been alright, nothing glamorous. I moved out of the kunoichi boarding house and into a small studio. It’s not fancy, but it’s nice having a place to myself. I don’t have a curfew anymore. How had I been living?”

“I forgot how backwards the kunoichi boarding was here. That’s great news though, congratulations. Must be nice not sneaking in through a window.”

“Thanks, it is,” she smiled then said, “Anyway, funny story, but I tried to get out of this party by saying I didn’t own a kimono. Kurotsuchi insisted on loaning me this one and I couldn’t refuse.” And now I know why.

“Well, I’m glad she did. You look lovely, by the way,” Tetsuya said.

“You’re too kind.” Asaya blushed, her breath hitching awkwardly in her throat for a millisecond. “I wish I could say the same.” She quickly shook her head and waived a hand. “Sorry, I don’t mean it like that. I’m glad to see you, too. I just wish it wasn’t here, is all. Sorry.”

“I know what you meant. But this isn’t so bad. It’s free food and drinks, think of it like that.”

“I almost wish I drank.”

“Oh, come on, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Asaya looked down at her clasped hands.

“Just try talking to someone. It might not be as bad as you think.”

“I am talking to someone, if you’ll notice.” He didn’t understand. Wouldn’t.

One of Tetsuya’s brows arched incredulously. “Well, in that case, I think you’ve lucked out; I happen to be the most charming person here,” he said with mostly-feigned arrogance.

“Sure,” she sarcastically drew out the syllables as she spoke. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“That’s not true,” Tesuya said. “Hey, why don’t we go for a walk?”

Asaya internally screamed. “I’d love to, but don’t you think that-”

“Hey cousin, long time no see,” Tsuta intervened from nowhere like a divine dove. Asaya couldn’t have been more relieved.

Tetsuya turned his head over his shoulder. “Oh, hey Tsuta. How’s it going?” His back straightened just a bit.

“Pretty good. Advancing some projects, making some connections, diversifying my portfolio. You know how it is,” Tsuta spoke in imitation of a corporate charlatan.

“Exciting. When’d you sell out?”

“Like any reasonable musician; when I realized I could make money,” Tsuta shrugged.

Tetsuya shook his head and rolled his eyes, amused by his younger cousin’s attitude. “You’re cute. I was just telling Asaya about the capitol.” He turned to her and said, “I said she should come visit some time. You should come, too. You’d love the music scene.”

“Yeah? Which music scene?”

“All of them,” Tetsuya knew Tsuta well enough.

“Sounds cool. Sure, when?

“Excuse me,” Asaya cut in. “I’ll be back in a moment.” She walked off in the direction of the restroom. She did not see either of them again for the rest of the evening.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“He wants to ask you out. Or maybe he’ll cut to the chase and propose. But even if he does just ask you out, he definitely has marriage in mind,” Tsuta sat on the edge of the small balcony of Asaya’s apartment. His thin legs stuck through the wide gaps between iron bars and his feet dangled over the edge, swinging lazily while he articulated his toes.

“No, he doesn’t,” Asaya slid the glass door open and headed towards the micro kitchen. “He lives in the capitol now. How would that even work?” she shouted over her shoulder.

“You can see each other on holidays. Write letters in the meantime. You don’t want to live with someone twenty-four-seven away and you’ve been good friends for a long time; it’s the perfect arrangement for you,” Tsuta shouted back. He heard a glass bottle clink.

“Maybe for me, but he’s not like that.” Asaya walked back carrying a bottle of sake and a small glass.

“You don’t know that. He adores you. Ever since you were kids.”

“No he does-” she inhaled sharply. “He shouldn’t. He deserves better.”

“I don’t need your pity party, Asaya. Just say ‘yes.’ He’s a good man.”

She sat down next to Tsuta and unscrewed the sake bottle. “I don’t love him.”

“Yes, you do. Enough to push him away when you think you’re going to hurt his feelings.”

“Shut up,” she poured a drink. “Not romantically. Not… sexually,” she whispered low, somewhat embarrassed.

“Then love him like a friend, same as before. Marriage isn’t really about boinking anyway. It’s about partnership. And you fit together that way.” Tsuta tilted his head knowingly and said, “I’m not going to lie, he definitely wants to sleep with you, but he’s thinking about more than that. Think of it like being friends with benefits, if it helps.”

How old was Tsuta, again? He was too wise to be thirteen. “It’s not that simple, Tsuta. You can’t have a relationship where one person’s feelings aren’t being reciprocated, where one person isn’t getting what they need. It’s not fair.” She took a sip of the clear liquid and her expression twisted. “I forgot that I don’t like sake.”

“Asaya, he’s a good man. Do you know how hard those are to find? He’ll take care of you, he won’t do anything dirty, and, like I’ve been saying, you’ve been friends since childhood.” Tsuta waived both hands emphatically. “Just give it a chance. Maybe you’ll find you feel different.

Another sip. “If I married a man for the status, why would I care if he had an affair? One less thing I’d have to do.”

“Oh, I get it, you just don’t want to feel forced,” Tsuta pointed at her accusingly. “I know my family’s crazy, but don’t let them ruin anything for you.”

“No, I don’t,” Asaya said firmly.

“Get over yourself. Sometimes I think you just want to be miserable,” he lowered his hand. “Look, if you don’t want to get married, or even pursue a relationship, that’s fine. But he deserves to know that.” He grabbed the sake bottle and took a swig. “Yuck, you’re right,” he stuck his tongue out.

A swirled her drink a few times before emptying the glass in one gulp. She didn’t want any of this. She thought about the weeks before Tetsuya left for the capitol. At what point had he changed? Or had she just been in denial the whole time?

“He’s going to ask. It’s inevitable.”

“I just wish everything was different.” The words strangled out and she felt her cheeks burn.

Tsuta looked at her with sympathy and sorrow in his dark brown eyes.

The electric kettle rumbled to a boil and automatically switched off. Asaya stood up and walked over to the countertop. She grabbed a plain, white mug and set it squarely in front of her.

Chamomile, peppermint, jasmine green, or black? There were 10 bags of chamomile, 12 bags of peppermint, 8 bags of jasmine green, and 15 bags of black. Black tea had caffeine in it, so it wasn’t an option since she intended to retire to bed soon. Jasmine green tea was fer favorite and had a technically negligible amount of caffeine. Although, as her favorite comprising only 8 of the 45 total tea bags left, it was statistically a better idea for her to ration them for times when she could properly enjoy them. That left chamomile and peppermint. Generally speaking, she didn’t really have a preference for either and the choice usually just depended on what she was in the mood for. Chamomile was believed to have relaxing and calming effects and therefore suitable for bedtime and an ideal candidate for her needs at the moment. However, Asaya had never read any scientific research that conclusively confirmed or denied the widely held belief. For all she knew it was a placebo effect, which, curiously, was known to work, but only if the subject genuinely believed a substance would have an effect. What did know for certain, was that she had 10 bags of chamomile and 12 bags of peppermint. 12 was numerically greater than 10, so peppermint it was.

Asaya tore open a single package, placed the filter bag into the mug, and draped the string and paper tag over the rim. She grabbed the plastic handle of the stainless-steel kettle and poured the hot water directly over the teabag. Steam bloomed from the white cylinder like chimney smoke. Asaya looked down to watch the infusion swirl as it spread throughout the water. There was no need to count the minutes for steeping or to toss the satchel until she had finished drinking. Unlike regular tea, herbal teas, or tisanes as they were properly called, could be left to steep practically indefinitely because they did not contain tannin, a bitter compound released from tea after extended periods. This occurrence was commonly referred to as “over steeping.”

Caffeine was one of the first chemicals released from tea. One could functionally decaffeinate a cup by steeping a bag for about thirty seconds, discarding the water, and placing the soaked bag into a new cup of hot water. In hindsight, she could have just done that instead.

She grabbed the mug and took it back to the table with her, placing it on top of an old issue of Chronology news magazine she had been utilizing as a coaster. It was heavily wrinkled from heat and liquid stains. She could practically count the days by the number of rings seared into it. She groaned and stopped herself before her eyes had the chance to fixate on the patterns.

She looked again out the window and at the city of dark towers and electric lights, at the city that, seemingly like her, could not cease anything.

Asaya stared perplexed at her transcription notes from the Demonic Statue of the Heretical Path. Or, as she liked to call it, the Doomsday Idol. She fancied herself clever. One sequence she had been able to decipher and translate the majority of, but a few key symbols eluded her. This was the closest she had come to completing anything and it drove her mad. She would like to at least accomplish something.

They had set up a desk and chair for her in the cave with the statue so she could work more effectively. They had also given her all the notepaper and pens she could ever ask for. A number of them were emptied and dry at this point. Each piece of paper and its contents seemed to blur together in her mind, creating one large, abstract collage. She looked up at the statue, contemplating inspecting it again for a new clue. If it hadn’t worked the last three dozen times, why wouldn’t it work the three-dozenth-and-first time?

Konan, who watched her for hours a day, sat in her own chair. Asaya was a little jealous that hers had a cushion. Sometimes Konan read a book or thumbed through some papers, but most of the time she just looked bored. Asaya felt bad that she was stuck here with her all the time.

Except on the days when they let her rest. They were generous enough to regularly give her days to herself. Although, she couldn’t go anywhere and she didn’t have anything to do, really. It was almost worse. She had thought a lot about what the city beneath her room might be like. She could only look down at it from the window, so high up that she couldn’t read the street or shop signs below.

A loud knock came through the door, startling Asaya back to the present. No one had ever knocked on that door before.

Unphased, Konan said, “Come in.”

The door swung open, nearly flying off its hinges. “Hello!” A strange man- and he was definitely a man, as he was too tall and lean to be a child- wearing an all-black outfit and a spiraled, orange mask burst into the cave. “Ms. Konan, I haven’t seen you in so long,” he exclaimed in a nasal, artificially high-pitched voice.

“What are you doing here?” Konan asked, clearly unenthused.

“Ah, yes, well, Tobi heard that something exciting was happening here, so he came to see with his own eyes- or eye,” the man said and pointed at the single hole in his mask.

Asaya stared at him in disbelief with her mouth slightly agape.

“You must be the new person,” he spotted Asaya. He hurried over to her desk and peered at her scattered notes. “What’s all this?” He picked up one of her notebooks and flipped to a random page and examined it by holding it wide open and level to his face with his two arms stiffly parallel to the ground. “These characters are weird. Did you make them up?”

“Could I have that back, please?” Asaya said, studying the man. All but the top of his short cut black hair was obscured. He even had black gloves covering his hands. He wasn’t wearing an Akatsuki cloak, nor did he have a ring, which meant that he wasn’t a member. So, what was he doing here?

Asaya looked to Konan to assess her reaction to the stranger’s arrival and intrusion into her work on the statue. The blue-haired woman seemed as indifferent as always, which meant that this man was a known quantity to her, that she knew him well enough that his antics weren’t unexpected and he wasn’t unwelcome. He was just obnoxious. “Do you know him, Konan?”

“Yes, this is Tobi,” Konan replied. “He is not an official member of our organization, but we find him useful from time to time. Isn’t that right, Tobi?”

“Yes, but I’d actually like to be a member of the Akatsuki one day,” he bashfully scratched his cheek, “They just don’t have an opening right now. They only have ten slots, you see, and they’re all full. Well, technically nine. One guy who used to be a member left but he never returned his ring, so I can’t replace him unless-”

“That’s enough, Tobi,” Konan scolded before he could reveal too much.

“Sorry, Mis Konan, I’ll be good and watch what I say more carefully. I promise!” Tobi said then turned back to Asaya, the stolen notebook still in his hand. “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

“My name is Asaya. It’s nice to meet you, too, Tobi. Can I please have that back?”

Tobi stared at the notebook in his hand, seemingly having forgotten it was there. “Oh, sorry, here you go.”

“Thank you,” Asaya gently took the notebook from him and rolled the newly-wrinkled corner over the edge of the desk to flatten it again. She wasn’t sure what to make of Tobi. He seemed like a happy idiot. Someone the Akatsuki found easy to control. But he must have some useful skill for them to keep him around. “What did you say you do again? Sorry, I must have missed it,” Asaya asked with a polite smile.

“Little old me?” Tobi placed both hands on his hips. “I just run errands and help out when they need me to. Nothing that special or important. How about you? What are you working on, Miss. Asaya?”

Asaya glanced again at Konan to wordlessly ask if it were alright to answer, to which Konan gave a slight nod. “I’m trying to unseal this statue.” She glanced towards the ancient monstrosity.

“Oh, wow! That must be really complicated!” Tobi said, looking back and forth at her and the statue. “You must be super talented and smart to do something like that.” His words carried the fascination of a child at the zoo.

“Not at all. I’m just doing what I can for now.”

“So modest. That’s a very lady-like quality. I bet you know everything.”

“I really don’t. There’s much more I don’t know, otherwise I wouldn’t still be working.”

“Have you tried going to the library? They have lots of information there. Tobi was just there last week.”

Asaya’s brow twitched sharply at the peculiarity of his words. “That’s a very helpful suggestion. Thank you. But I’m not permitted to explore the city.”

“Why? Did you do something bad? Are you grounded? That’s ok, Tobi can bring stuff back for you. Tobi likes helping his friends.”

Asaya visually referred back to Konan. Was she really alright with this ingratiating buffoon trying to get involved? “That’s very kind of you to offer, but they wouldn’t have quite what I need.”

“Awww, Tobi just wanted to help.” Asaya couldn’t see his face, but his pout was evident in his voice.

“Actually, that isn’t a bad idea, Tobi,” Konan interjected.

“I’m sorry?” Asaya blinked.

“Tobi is excellent at retrieving things for us. And you’ve said you would like to research Iwa’s libraries. Why not send Tobi to bring back what you need?” Konan suggested.

“That’d be a little more dangerous than a jaunt across town, don’t you think? He’d have to infiltrate Iwa, and the collections are guarded. It’s extremely dangerous.”

“Then worst-case scenario, Tobi dies and never comes back,” Konan said, entirely nonchalant. “Asaya, if he weren’t useful, we wouldn’t bother tolerating him.”

Harsh, Asaya thought.

Tobi clutched his chest with both hands and slumped his shoulders. “That’s so mean, Ms. Konan,” he whimpered.

Konan didn’t bat a single dark lash. “Write a list of what you need and any instructions that might be helpful.”

“Research like that isn’t always as easy as people think,” Asaya felt dubious about the whole idea in a number of ways.

“Just try it and see. What have you got to lose?”

Konan’s words stung in an unintended way. “Alright,” Asaya agreed. “I’ll write up a list and some instructions for you, Tobi.”

Tobi appeared to light up. “I promise I won’t let you down, Miss. Asaya!” He gave her a salute.

“Thank you, I appreciate your help very much,” Asaya smiled at the strange mask, at the spiral flowing into a black eye. She wondered what kind of face might exist behind it.

In a dim alley behind a luxury hotel in a moderately-sized city in Wind Country, Kisame slung a newly-minted corpse over his shoulder. This person- former person- had been one of a handful of collaborators involved in a political embezzlement scandal. He and the others had been summoned to court for testimony and trial. There were severe charges pending against everyone involved, likely near-lifetime sentences. But being rich men committing mere white-collar crimes had afforded them the luxury of walking free until then. The group had made a pact to defend each other in court and thoroughly scripted what each would say when questioned. However, one of the collaborators, being particularly invested in not going to prison, purchased the permanent silence of the other members by hiring the Akatsuki to kill them and make it appear as though they had fled town.

There is no honor among thieves.

“Only one more, right?” Kisame asked. “I’ll be glad when we’re done with this. We’re too skilled for simple assassinations like these, eh Itachi?”

“Sure, but do you remember where we are headed next?” Itachi reminded his partner.

Kisame groaned, “Don’t ruin my mood.”

Itachi silently walked further down the alley. An electric lamp affixed high on a sandstone wall flickered as he walked under it. The yellow-saturated light did nothing but make the path feel narrower, as if it were trying to constrict itself around him.

“You know, I never really know what you’re thinking, but you can’t tell me you aren’t unhappy about being stuck babysitting that cow again.”

“My point is that you should enjoy what liberty you can for the time being. We do not know for how long we will be in Amegakure,” Itachi said flatly.

“Tch,” Kisame scoffed, then said, “You know what? I like the way you think. I’ll make sure to have some fun while we’re still out here.”

A gust of wind raced through the alleyway. Individual grains of sand whirled around him and scratched his face. Itachi closed his dark lashes to protect his eyes. The image of her gentle curls rippling in the wind flashed across his mind. Of her tucking the wayward, ashy strands behind her ear. He could never decide if they were light brown or dark blond. And he could not help but imagine, as he had many times before, what it might feel like to wrap those silky, loose curls around his fingers.

A grain of sand nicked Itachi’s cheek below his right eye just before the wind ceased altogether. He opened his eyes to see the same alley in Wind Country as he had when they’d closed. It was so easy to allow himself to think of her when she wasn’t there. When she wasn’t near him. When she wasn’t within reach.

The day started just like every other: raining. Asaya awoke around 9 am, showered, brushed her teeth, dressed, and enjoyed a cup of tea before Konan arrived around 11 am to escort her to the basement cave so she could continue working on unsealing the statue. Asaya was grateful they did not expect her to begin working earlier in the day. She was a night owl by nature.

As the two women once again trudged through the halls and down the stairs, Asaya felt her frustration begin to return. In the past week, she had made little progress. Not that she wanted to help a doomsday cult, but it still hurt her pride that she was failing.

“You’ll be pleased to know that Tobi has returned,” Konan said as they approached the final staircase. “He found quite a lot of resources for you. Almost everything you requested and more, it appears.”

What? Asaya couldn’t believe it. It was only two weeks ago that he had agreed to get them. Maybe two weeks and a few days. How had he gotten all the way there, infiltrated the village, identified and retrieved the items, and returned so fast? “Are you sure he went to Iwa? Not somewhere else entirely?”

She could almost hear Konan smirk. “Like I’ve said, Tobi is an idiot, but he is a useful idiot. We have him for a reason.”

When Konan opened the door, they found Tobi sitting at the desk Asaya worked at. Stacks of books and folders of documents were piled high on top.

“Hello, Miss Asaya! I’m so happy to see you again!” Tobi greeted her. “And you, too, Ms. Konan.”

“It’s great to see you again, too, Tobi,” Asaya returned his greeting, clearly confused.

Konan said nothing.

“I brought some stuff back for you, Miss Asaya,” Tobi stood up. “I hope it’s helpful.”

Asaya approached the desk and inspected the materials, picking them up and shuffling them around. They were exactly what she had requested. “This is amazing, thank you. But,” her brow furrowed, “How did you get these? How did you get them all so fast?” This wasn’t just one or two books, but a few shelves worth. “Can you- can you teleport or something?” She struggled to think of an explanation.

Asaya didn’t see the amused grin behind the orange mask. Tobi laughed childishly, “I wish. I’m just really fast at traveling, is all. Teleporting would be super great, though. I wonder if there’s a technique out there for that.” He smugly watched as a consternation settled in under her surface.

“Well, thank you again. This is incredibly helpful,” Asaya recomposed herself. “How did you manage? It must have been difficult to get these.”

Ah, what a good scout, Obito thought. He wouldn’t let her know his abilities so easily. “Well, you know how it is. I just did my best. Wasn’t always easy, but I came back alright.” She couldn’t press harder for answers without being too forward.

Evasive fucker, Asaya thought. “I’m just glad you’re unharmed, Tobi. Please, tell me about it. I know the kind of security these are under. I’m impressed.”

Cow. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s nothing remarkable, really. I’m flattered you were worried about me, Miss Asaya,” he bashfully cradled his masked face in both hands. Obito should have waited longer to bring her the materials she had requested from Iwa. Or maybe not brought them all to her at once. It really was too conspicuous to bring them back so fast. He cursed his own impatience.

“I just did my best to be a good, sneaky ninja like always. And it was easy because Iwa is so big! Oh man, I have to tell you- I saw this giant stone statue of a cat. It was huge! Right near the middle of town. And there was a story about it too- something about a cat and a landslide during the village’s creation. Maybe you know it, Miss. Asaya?

“I don’t have all day,” Konan interrupted with clear tone of irritation in her voice. “We appreciate your help, Tobi, but if you have nothing else to contribute, then be a good boy and let Asaya focus on her work.”

Konan was fucking genius as far as Obito was concerned. “Sorry, Ms. Konan! I’ll stop bothering you. It was nice seeing you again, Miss Asaya. Some other time!” Tobi said as he scuttled out the door.

“Bye, Tobi,” Asaya waved and took her seat at the desk. She did not like that it felt warm from Tobi sitting in it. She was frustrated that Tobi had run off without answering her question, but maybe she would get another opportunity later. She read the spines of the books he had brought back, selected one that looked promising, and opened it to the table of contents.

“One more thing before you begin,” Konan said from her cushioned chair.

Asaya lifted her head to give the woman her attention.

“Itachi and Kisame will be returning sometime in the coming weeks. They and I will be alternating shifts while you work. You’re pleasant and all, but I have other obligations I’ve been falling behind on just to watch you. They’ll be helping to free up my time,” Konan explained.

“I understand,” was all Asaya said. A strange, acrid taste filled her mouth. At first, she thought it was from the pungent, musty pages of the old book. But as she swallowed her saliva into the pit of her empty stomach, she knew that wasn’t it. She didn’t know quite what it was.

“She’s clever,” Obito said to Pain and Konan. He sat at a large wooden desk in a comfortable armchair. He sat relaxed with his feet propped up on the desk and one arm slung over the back of the chair. The other forearm rested on the desk where his fingers rapped on the wood. “I’ll have to watch myself around her.”

“If she weren’t intelligent, she wouldn’t be able to do what we need her to,” Pain said.

“Yes, but not that kind of intelligent.” Obito clicked his tongue. “I still haven’t decided what I want to do with her.”

Konan’s elegant brow arched. “She is useful. No one in the Akatsuki can do what she does. None of our connections, either.”

“Oh? Do you like her, Konan?”

“She does good work and she makes for a pleasant captive,” Konan said.

Obito chuckled, “Enjoy finally spending time with another girl?”

I do, she thought flippantly.

“Konan is right,” Pain said. “She’s useful and she doesn’t give us any trouble. And unsealing the Demonic Statue aside, we were able to accept jobs we otherwise couldn’t. Lucrative ones.”

“She gave Itachi trouble.” Obito tapped his index finger exactly three times. He wondered how she did it- how she had gotten away from him when she was so severely disadvantaged. Not just once, but twice. “He’ll be back soon, won’t he?”

“Yes.”

Obito hummed vaguely.

Itachi had passed under the lonely concrete gateway of the bridge leading into Amegakure more times than he could count. But he could not once remember this subtle, unnamable anticipation accompanying him.

He and Kisame met Pain in the top floor of the same tower as always.

“Welcome back,” Pain greeted them. “I trust your travels fared well?”

“Yes. We encountered no complications, but it is still good to be back in Amegakure. Wouldn’t you agree, Kisame?” Itachi slyly asked his partner.

Kisame grumbled low from the back of his throat before saying, “It’ll be nice to put our feet up and relax for a while.”

“For the most part, you will be able to. However, you will still be required to observe our guest as needed. Although, you will find it dull; she has given Konan no trouble and is quite dedicated to her work.”

“Understood,” both Itachi and Kisame said.

Good. Take the next three days to yourselves. You will begin rotation after.

“Yes, sir,” Kisame said.

“Tired?” Konan asked Asaya at the younger woman’s yawn.

“Yes,” Asaya answered. She had been reading through one of the many books Tobi had retrieved from Iwa for her. The research was fascinating and all, but one could only focus for so long before needing a break.

“I understand. Shall we take a break for lunch?” Konan asked.

“That would be great,” Asaya agreed and quickly straightened her notes before standing up.

They trekked up the stairs- for some reason, they preferred the stairs to the elevator despite, or perhaps because of, the physical effort- to the lounge with a kitchenette where they regularly ate lunch. And dinner and sometimes breakfast.

“I should tell you,” Konan said after chewing a morsel of steamed white rice, “that Itachi and Kisame arrived yesterday. They will begin alternating days to watch you starting soon.”

Asaya paused her motion to bring a cup of tea to her lips. “Good to know,” she said then resumed as if it meant nothing. The liquid was just a little too hot to drink comfortably.

The night after arriving in Amegakure, Itachi walked the hallways alone. The corridors were dark as usual for this late in the evening. Pein didn’t like to leave the impression that this building was ever too occupied.

Itachi was glad to have time to himself. He looked out the large glass windowpanes lining the hallway while he walked towards the kitchen to see what he might do about dinner. He’d prefer a warm meal he didn’t have to cook himself, but he didn’t feel like heading to a diner in the storm. Wind carried the extra-large raindrops down at a harsh angle while lightning and thunder rolled through the clouds. This high up, he could see the lightning spread across the sky like veins through flesh.

“Itachi,” Konan’s voice called and Itachi turned around to find her alone.

“Konan,” he greeted.

“Heading for dinner? We moved the kitchen since you’ve been here last. I’ll walk you there.”

Itachi silently watched as the blue-haired woman caught up to him. Konan had never once gone out of her way to speak to him. She was probably the only person less interested in other Akatsuki members than he was.

They walked shoulder to shoulder down the hall.

“Are you pleased or disappointed to be back?” Konan asked.

Itachi knew there were hidden implications to each of the options. “It is rare that I can stay in one place for long. I choose to enjoy it when I can.” Stating disappointment outright could be interpreted unfavorably. Stating mild, disconnected enjoyment was the better option.

Konan hummed. “Your former charge,” she said, “I’m surprised she was such a problem for you. She’s so cooperative it’s boring.”

“She must like you better,” Itachi said dryly.

“I was told she was vulnerable to genjutsu.”

A bolt of lightning hit the rod atop the tower on a building next to theirs, and the flash of light and thunderous roar shook the air around them. Neither of them flinched.

“You would think that someone of greater intelligence wouldn’t be.”

A compliment cleverly wrapped in an insult. How very like him. “She is a remarkably bright creature, isn’t she?”

“That would be why she’s here.”

“To the left up ahead,” she instructed. “Remind me, how exactly did she outwit you? I can’t imagine she fought you head on given the disadvantage.” Konan’s scrutiny did not go unnoticed to Itachi.

Itachi stared straight ahead, undaunted. “She set the building on fire and jumped off a top floor down a cliff.”

“What do you mean?” Konan’s brow furrowed.

“When retrieving the shinjitsu mirror in the Land of Iron, she set the entire fortress ablaze. She used the chaos as a means of escape. She jumped from the roof and down the cliff below. I don’t know how she survived the fall.”

“But she can’t use fire,” she said as they turned down a new hallway.

“No, she cannot. She somehow used the seal on the chamber guarding the mirror. You should be careful when letting her handle something volatile,” he warned, meeting her eye-to-eye.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Konan said. “But she has nothing to gain from being uncooperative, not anymore. And I think she likes her project.”

“Spite is a surprisingly tenacious motivator,” Itachi stated.

Konan gave a small laugh at his blunt words. “True, but fortunately I don’t think she’s mad- at least not at us. But just in case, we have you and your genjutsu to keep her in line, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Hm,” Condescending ass, Konan couldn’t imagine how anyone could stand Itachi for long. “Well, this door on the right is the new kitchen.” She stopped just in front of the open doorway. “Help yourself.” She walked off without uttering a goodbye.

Itachi’s mood soured. He did not appreciate Konan’s pointed questions. He knew what she was accusing him of. Hopefully, Asaya had been clever enough to give them a matching response.

Three days later, a knock on Asaya’s door announced the arrival of her daily custodian. She knew by the rhythm and tone that it was not Konan. Instinct told her not to open the red door, but she didn’t really have a choice.

Itachi stood alone on the other side, to which Asaya was surprised because she thought Kisame would be with him. She was by no means disappointed, though.

“It’s been some time, hasn’t it?” Itachi spoke with the same unimpressed confidence as always. Nothing was worth thinking twice about.

“It has,” Asaya said, having somehow swallowed the tension she’d been feeling for the past few days.

“He’s not there today. Tomorrow,” Itachi said, noticing Asaya eye both ends of the hallway obviously looking for Kisame.

“Oh.”

“Follow me,” Itachi led her to the basement cave with the Demonic Statue with no navigational assistance from Asaya as though he had walked there dozens of times.

Asaya sat at the desk just as always. Naturally, Itachi took Konan’s seat.

At first, Asaya kept to her work as usual. It proved a good distraction. Minutes and hours ticked by. Slowly, sure, but they did pass.

While deliberating a possible formula, Asaya absentmindedly stuck the end of her pen between her teeth and its barrel rested on her delicate bottom lip.

Itachi imagined her running her soft, pink tongue over the tip.

Asaya caught him gazing at her. Just for a split second before he glanced away, but she knew exactly what she saw. Embarrassed, she immediately removed the pen and held it over her notebook to write something. Or, at least she would have if she could think of anything else.

“Itachi,” she addressed him. The moment felt like now or never.

Itachi’s body involuntarily tensed in anticipation of what she might say.

“Do you-” she bit her tongue. Do you still want me?

Itachi’s expression remained neutral as she appeared to rescind whatever she was about to ask.

“Please tell me you don’t actually believe in any of this,” she tilted her head towards the monstrous statue to indicate what she was referring to, “lunacy.”

“Not at all,” Itachi felt the apprehension leave him. “No one does except Pain and Konan.”

Relief swept over Asaya, albeit a different one.

“We are in the Akatsuki for our own benefit; it affords us, as rogue-nin, a certain level of stability- money, shelter, work suited to our skills- that we would not have on our own.” He almost smirked in bleak amusement, “But, ultimately, we each have our own ends in mind.”

Neatly setting down her pen, she asked, “What will happen when I fail?”

“Why do you think you’ll fail?” She ought to have more confidence in herself.

Asaya instantly glared at him. She had forgotten how frustratingly inconsistent he could be. “You just agreed that this whole situation was absurd. Do you not know what they told me this thing is? It can’t possibly be true.”

“Technically, I never specifically stated whether or not I believed the statue was real. When you said ‘all of this,’ your words were open to interpretation. You could have meant-”

“Itachi, stop it,” Asaya said forcefully. “Stop it or stop talking.”

Itachi considered how beleaguered and exhausted she must be. Physically, she hunched over her desk and braced on her forearms with dark circles tinting her eyes. Mentally, she paced along steel bars like a caged tiger. And, admittedly, he was being rude. However, she would think him insane if he tried to explain that the Demonic Statue was, in fact, genuine. Anyone rational would, so he had to think carefully about what to say. He finally settled on, “Whether or not the statue is real doesn’t really matter, does it? Not when we have to keep acting as if it were.”

Asaya gave a heavy sigh. He wasn’t wrong. She rubbed the corner of a page of her book to remind herself that she should get back to work. Its title read Oracle Script Logography: Usage, Development, and Influences on Shang-lineage and Zhou Writing Systems.

“You enjoy the research, at least, right?” He should stop himself.

“I do. It can be overwhelming sometimes, but I really do,” she offered a light smile. “Ironically, I think it’s the only reason I’m still sane.”

For a brief moment, Itachi imagined them in an oak study carrel at one of the National University of Fire Country’s archives.

“It’s terribly boring to watch, though, sorry. I’m sure Konan is relieved,” she said and the corner of her lip began to tug upwards.

Slipping into conversation was too obvious a mistake, but it was undeniably easy to make. “Perhaps,” Itachi steeled himself, “but we shouldn’t get distracted.”

Asaya withheld a frown and turned back to her work.

The days continued with Konan, Itachi, and Kisame alternating turns to observe Asaya while she worked.

She had made great progress since Tobi had retrieved the books and materials for her, although a number of questions still remained unanswered. She had compiled a list of more resources for him to bring back if possible and she’d told him that Iwa was not the only place he might find them. The libraries and archives at the Imperial University in the Earth Capitol or the universities and museums of other countries were excellent places to search. Major Shinto temples or Buddhist monasteries might also have suitable collections.

Tobi had happily agreed to help, but he shyly admitted he could only look in so many places.

“I don’t mean to overburden you, Tobi. Whatever you can manage is more than enough,” she had said to him. A few weeks had passed since then and she wondered when he would return. He had been so quick last time.

“Now that I think about it, you’ve been in Amegakure quite some time now, haven’t you?” Konan asked out of the blue one day. “Have you ever thought about visiting the city? You haven’t been anywhere but this cave and your room in forever.”

Asaya looked up at Konan, who sat with crossed arms. “That’s not entirely true; I’ve been in the hallways and the break room.”

Konan chuckled. Somehow or other, a strange fondness had developed between them. “But would you like to anyway? See the city.”

“I’m not going to say, ‘no,’” Asaya said, genuinely curious and eager to both visit Amegakure proper and escape this dungeon for a while. But what could have prompted this unexpected proposal?

“Good, let’s go, then,” Konan stood up and headed out the door.

Asaya hurriedly straightened her papers and followed Konan.

First, Konan took them to the lounge where they ate lunch and switched out her Akatsuki cloak for an inconspicuous black raincoat. “Here,” she handed Asaya a bright yellow one.

“Thank you,” Asaya said. How visible, she thought while puling the sleeves over her arms and zipping it up.

Konan led them through hallways and stairs Asaya had never been to before, then punched a code into a door which opened into the city.

“What would you like to see first?” Konan asked.

Asaya almost didn’t hear her, as she was caught up in the sensation of the rain pelting her hood and the cool, moist air flowing across her face. The feeling of being outside was almost surreal, like reliving a forgotten memory. “I don’t know.” It wasn’t like she’d ever seen a map or directory, just the view from her window. She crinkled her nose uncomfortably at the thought: ‘her’ window. “There’s a giant lake surrounding the city, right? Can I see it?”

“There is. It’s a bit of a long walk, but we can.”

“That’s alright. I’m happy to walk. I need the exercise anyway,” she wanted to savor this experience for as long as she could. And her muscles were getting soft sitting around all day.

“Excellent choice, then.”

They walked through the winding streets for a long while. Few of the streets stretched very far or long and weren’t even in standardized widths because they weren’t built on a grid like a modern city would normally be. The skyscrapers and buildings sprouted up organically in densely packed clusters like a forest of kelp. The result was that navigating Amegakure was neigh impossible for anyone who didn’t already know it.

There weren’t many people on the street, either. There were plenty of people inside when they passed by the glass windows of cafes and shops. This made a certain amount of sense, given no one would be inclined to stay on the streets any longer than necessary when it constantly rained, but Asaya extrapolated this to mean that each tower or cluster of buildings was something of a self-contained ecosystem. No tower was filled with only offices or apartments, but a mixture of residential, recreational, retail, and professional space, meaning there was little need for inhabitants to travel far across the city on a daily basis. She speculated about the possibility of an underground tunnel system connecting the towers like fungal roots, but she didn’t yet know enough to reach a conclusion.

They eventually reached the waterfront. It was a high, concrete breakwater with a steel railing. Asaya heard a loud rushing water sound, and she looked over the rail to see where it was coming from. Her hands clasped around the cold steel bars as she leaned over as far as she could. Uncountable tons of rainwater gushed from a giant drain pipe protruding from the concrete breakwater. Of course, just as she had speculated.

The rest was just grey rainclouds and water as far as the eye could see.

Asaya turned back to face Konan and the city. Absolutely no one else was nearby, not even a light in a window.

“It’s not very beautiful, is it? Sorry,” Konan said and approached Asaya.

“No, but I appreciate it anyway,” Asaya didn’t think Konan was about to cut her throat and throw her into the water, but she was after something.

“It must seem strange to you that I would bring you out here when you’ve proven to be quite the escape artist. But I don’t get the impression that you’ve any desire. Although, I’m curious,” Konan began, now standing next to Asaya facing the great, grey lake, “how did you escape from Itachi?”

Asaya wanted out of this field trip. “What did he tell you?” She noted that Konan did not include Kisame in her question.

“Nothing, he never told me.”

Fuck, Asaya knew that was a lie. Konan wanted to know if whatever story Itachi had told them was true.

Itachi wouldn’t possibly have told anyone the truth about that snowy night in the Land of Iron: that she’d sealed his sharingan and run, that he’d dropped his guard enough for her to do it, that he nearly died because of her, that he let her go, that they had…

“Which time? The Land of Iron or the Earth Capitol?” Asaya had to think quickly. A long silence was suspicious.

“Both,” Konan said. It was astounding how she could suddenly stare so intensely without changing her expression at all.

What would Itachi have told them? Asaya had to take a stab in the dark. “In the Land of Iron, I accidentally set the entire fortress on fire. We were separated when trying to escape and I ended up jumping from the roof off the face of a cliff to survive. At which point, I was alone and it was easy to escape. When they found me in the Earth Capitol,” Asaya searched for any hint of approval or disapproval in Konan’s reaction but found none, “I happened run into another Iwa shinobi at the same time. He protected me.” Technically, everything she said was true. It just wasn’t the whole truth.

The inner corners of Konan’s eyes twitched ever so slightly. “So basically, you just got lucky?”

“Yeah, I guess I did, didn’t I?” Asaya agreed with a titter. “But it all ended up being for nothing.”

“So what? It was the right choice at the time. I’d be disappointed if you hadn’t.” Konan crossed her arms over the railing and looked across the lake. “The setback was frustrating for us, but honestly, I’m impressed. Itachi is one of our best.”

“Like you said, I just got lucky,” Asaya didn’t feel comfortable accepting the compliment. “It’s no secret that I’m weak against genjutsu, so I’m no match for him.”

“Perhaps,” Konan said noncommittally. “Does it make you uncomfortable that he is back?”

“Yes, but not as much as Kisame does,” Asaya could deflect too.

“No, I imagine not,” Konan said with something knowing under her voice.

Asaya thought for a moment. If Konan questioned what Itachi reported, then Konan did not trust Itachi- not entirely. Why? Did Pain and others in the Akatsuki feel the same, or just Konan? Asaya would have to be careful for both her sake and Itachi’s.

“This whole arrangement was a deal with the Tsuchikage, right?” Asaya took a turn to ask a question. “Why didn’t any of us know? If he had just given this to me as a mission, I would have done it without objection. I don’t really care about what your organization is. And Itachi and Kisame and the other Akatsuki definitely wouldn’t have either. So why keep us in the dark?”

Konan gave a deep sigh, “You’d have to ask him. It was his request. It made no difference to us.”

Of course it was, Asaya scowled.

“Do you have an idea?” Konan observed the shorter woman’s reaction.

Asaya squeezed the cold steel bars in her grip, “Yes, but I’m going to keep it to myself, if it’s alright.”

“Very well,” Konan said. “Would you like to know what the Tsuchikage got in exchange for you? I’m sure it’s crossed your mind. It was nothing insignificant.”

“Do you think cows know what they sell for? Do you think it’d matter if they did?” Asaya clenched her teeth.  “Whatever it was, it was foolish of you to trade him,” though her words were harsh, she spoke with no malice. “You have no guarantee I can unseal your statue.”

“That’s a good point,” Konan was unconcerned. “Are you interested in ice cream or coffee? I know some good places on the way back.”

“Coffee,” Asaya smiled. Somewhere inside, Konan was an empathetic person. “Definitely coffee. Please and thank you.”

“Well?” Obito inquired.

“Asaya and Itachi gave the same story.”

“Hm, disappointing.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Part I - In a Distant Land
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sanmyaku Isamu had stayed late after work. Reviewing documents, approving budgets and declining proposals, responding to written correspondence. Tedious administrative functions that his father had no time for. He had considered wrapping up for the night, but an unexpected, heavy rain kept him inside.

The wooden door to his office creaked open. “Who is it?” he did not bother to look up. A wooden cane tapped the floorboards. Isamu could recognize that particular sound anywhere.

“It is I,” Madame Fukurou announced herself.

“Wonderful, just who I wanted to see,” he opened a drawer and pulled out a cigarette.

“Those things killed one of my late sons, you know.”

He grabbed a lighter and flicked it on. “I know,” he said after lighting the cigarette. He didn’t smoke much anymore, just the occasional when he was particularly agitated. “Just cut to the chase. What do you want?” Like he didn’t already know.

“What did you do with Asaya this time?”

“What makes you think-”

“Don’t play innocent. I saw you take her away just before she disappeared again. Unusually sloppy of you.” She hopped into the stiff chair in front of his desk.

“She was assigned a top-secret mission and she died. Tragic, but it happens all the time. My condolences.”

“Do you remember where you hid the body?”

Isamu leaned on a forearm and flicked the ash from his cigarette. “With all due respect, Madame Fukurou, you come into my office after hours without notice and make baseless accusations at me? You don’t actually care, anyway.”

“How dare you! She was like a granddaughter to me. I can’t believe you would throw away such a talented kunoichi just to spite me. I never thought Oonoki would stoop so low, Madame Fukurou tilted her nose up and turned her head to the side in an exaggerated display of offence.

Hypocritical witch, Isamu rolled his eyes. As if she hadn’t done worse. “As I recall, you didn’t even show up to her memorial service.” If it were anyone other than Fukurou, he would have thrown them out of his office. “She died on mission. Go read the report if you want the details.”

“I have and I know it’s just as full of lies as the last one because your agents wrote it. Now, what did you do with her corpse? She had an invaluable item on her and it is in Iwa’s interest to get it back,” Madame Fukurou rested both palms atop her cane.

“What are you talking about?” he squinted.

“The sealing beads, you dolt.”

Asaya had had them on her person when he’d handed her over to the Akatsuki. He remembered because they were a part of the deal.

“There are only three in existence: mine, my other apprentice’s, and Asaya’s. They are irreplaceable artifacts,” Madame Fukurou explained.

“That’s unfortunate,” Isamu exhaled a puff of smoke.

The old woman’s already-wrinkled face wrinkled even more when she glowered at him. “I want them back, Isamu,” she said and stood up from her seat to walk out of the office. “Find them, or I will.”

After the door shut, Isamu put out the cigarette by rubbing it on a ceramic pencil holder. He’d clean up the ashy smudge later. Or maybe just throw it away. It didn't really matter to him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Fuck, Tsuta thought when a sudden rain landed on his head and shoulders. He didn’t have an umbrella. He was on the way to the Tsuchikage tower to fetch his oldest sister at the request of his wonderful mother. Maybe he could quickly run back and get one, but he’d probably get scolded for wasting time or being lazy or not caring enough.

Therefore, Tsuta arrived at the Tsuchikage tower soaking wet. He rand his hands over his hair and twisted his shirt to wring out the water. At least it was warm, summer rain. Luckily, the droplets and wet footprints stopped by the time he was about halfway up the stairs. By the time he reached the floor where his family’s offices were, he was only very damp.

Ahead of him coming down the hallway was, unexpectedly, Madame Fukurou. She looked irritated, but then again she was always at least mildly upset. It was more unsettling when she wasn’t mad.

“You, Sanmyaku boy,” she stopped when she passed him. “You were Asaya’s friend, were you not?”

“Yeah,” Tsuta wasn’t fazed when she raised an eye at his wet clothing. Though he wasn’t happy that she brought up Asaya.

“When did you see her last?” Madame Fukurou asked with no regard or consideration to propriety.

“The fifteenth of that month. About a week before,” his voice trailed off before he could finish the sentence.

“Did she ever say anything to you about her previous disappearance?” Asaya had said nothing to Fukurou. Either because she did not want to or she was silenced.

“No,” Tsuta said sharply and sneered. “What do you care, anyway?” Tsuta didn’t know why she was asking. Wouldn’t she know? She was high enough on the totem poll to read whatever top-secret reports she wanted to.

Clearly, the boy was not smart enough to put two and two together and make an inference. “The last person to see her before she disappeared the first time was your uncle Isamu. The last person to see her alive this time was also your uncle after he personally escorted her out of my office late on the night of the fifteenth.” Fukurou watched the boy’s eyes dart back and forth as the wheels slowly turned in his mind.

“Akatsuki,” Tsuta said. “She said she was kidnapped by a criminal organization called the Akatsuki.” As soon as he said it, he could practically see her blood pressure rise in the spidery veins on the hand gripping the head of her cane.

Damnit, Oonoki, Madame Fukurou nearly cursed aloud. “Follow me to my office. You’re going to tell me everything you know.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Part II – Precarity
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Itachi massaged his scalp under the hot, running water of the metal showerhead. The more time he spent in Amegakure, it seemed, the less he could control his own thoughts. Memories flooded his mind whenever he was alone for long: of her face half cast in firelight on a moonless night, of her body pressed into a bed of pine needles beneath him, of her smile when she’d tried so earnestly to explain topology (math was never his forte), of snowflakes in her hair when he’d told her of his younger brother, and of her lips when she’d repeated Shisui’s name. He could not remember the last time he’d heard it spoken aloud. The sound of her voice echoed like a hymn of sin.

He no longer tried to contain his impulses. It was too difficult when they spent days sitting across from one another, just out of reach in a persistent, dull ache.

He focused on the sensation of the warm water pelting his back and shoulders while he spread his palm wide and ran his hand down his abdomen.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Demonic Statue stared down at Asaya the way she would stare at an ant: disgusted at an inferior pest that did not belong it it’s presence. Although, the Demonic Statue didn’t actually look down and its eyes were blindfolded. It just felt that way.

Recently, she felt unease whenever she looked at it or studied it, which was most days of the week. What she was learning-

What she discovered was-

What her research showed was that-

Everything about it made sense. All of it. Every character and arrangement was constructed perfectly. Different from anything she’d seen before, but it all worked cohesively.

At first, she thought the statue was a clever fake, an elaborate forgery. It couldn’t possibly be the ten-tails of myth. But after having spent so much time studying and examining it, searching for any indication that it was phony only to see nothing erroneous… The implications made her gut wrench.

Asaya finished scribbling a note and walked back towards her desk.

Kisame was watching her today. It was a secret to no one that they hated each other. He yawned loudly, not bothering to cover his mouth.

“Something funny?” Kisame did not like the wrinkle in her brow when she glanced at him.

She shook her head.

“How about repulsive?”

“Not at all,” Asaya said in a light, soft, polite tone.

“Tch,” Kisame clicked his tongue. She spoke with an air of sophistication that sounded like a lady- like she were better than him.

Asaya grabbed a book and made to walk over to the statue again to put some distance between them. She really wished they wouldn’t leave her with him.

“What are you doing?”

“Just going to look at something,” she said in the same feminine tone while imagining crushing him under a boulder. She was an Iwa kunoichi and they were in an underground cave, after all.

“Say, you’re not tryin’ to blow this place up like you did that fortress, are you?”

Asaya knew that there was nothing she could say or do that would appease him. At least nothing that her dignity would allow.

“Well?”

Asaya took a deep breath and flexed her fingers-

“Hello, Miss Asaya! I’m back with the books you wanted!” exclaimed Tobi standing by Asaya’s desk, having suddenly and seemingly materialized out of thin air.

Asaya never imagined that she’d be so happy to see the orange-masked buffoon.

“Oh, is that you, Kisame? When did you get back? I see you’ve met Miss Asaya. Isn’t she super nice?” Tobi said.

Confused and annoyed, Kisame asked, “What are you doing here, Tobi?”

“I have returned from a quest!” Tobi proudly exclaimed like a toddler that had poured their own glass of milk. “A quest to bring Miss Asaya items from exotic lands so she can release the Demonic Statue.” He gestured emphatically at a bag full of books and other documents now sitting on Asaya’s desk.

“Oh,” Kisame was unimpressed.

“Welcome back, Tobi, I’ve been worried about you,” Asaya approached Tobi to inspect the new items. “These are wonderful. Thank you so much. You must have gone through a lot of trouble for them.”

 “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m sorry I took so long.” A puppy-like blush almost materialized through his mask.

“Not at all. I’m just glad you’re safe and unharmed.” She tried to rest her hand on his shoulder, but he shied away before she could touch him.

“Can I please see what you are working on, Miss Asaya?”

“Certainly. I’d be happy to show you,” she grabbed her clip board. “Here is a sequence of characters I’ve copied from the statue. They are written in a unique form of character script that died out long ago. What I’m trying to do is decipher them by comparing them with other extinct forms of character script. Once I’ve done that, I then have to…”

Kisame tilted his head like a dog hearing a peculiar sound for the first time. She spoke to Tobi like she was explaining a project to an executive: with enough information to sound impressive while also simplifying it enough to be understood by an arrogant moron. Kisame scoffed at the artificially sweet way she spoke to him. Tobi was a fool who needed coddling, but he was not worth impressing.

After many minutes of lengthy explanations, Tobi clasped both hands on the sides of his head and said, “Aw, man, this is too complicated for me.” He slumped forward just a bit.

“It’s a lot to learn,” Asaya said, “Don’t be too hard on yourself.” She reached out to place her hand on the back of his shoulder to console him.

“Look at the time!” Tobi abruptly straightened and pointed to the analog clock on the desk. “I’m supposed to be somewhere. Sorry Miss Asaya, this is super cool, but I have to go.”

Asaya recoiled her hand at his sudden change in posture. “You should get going, then. We can always talk some other time.” She felt both relieved and disappointed.

“Definitely. See you again next time, miss Asaya!” He waived before jogging out the door.

“Bye, Tobi,” she waived back.

“Awful nice of you to make him feel special,” Kisame mocked her.

Asaya only hummed in response, then sat back down in her chair and flipped to a page in a book.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Since their outing to the waterfront, Konan and Asaya began a routine of going out for coffee and a pastry on weekends. They enjoyed getting out into the city even if they didn’t say much to one another. They mostly read newspapers and magazines for an hour or two. Sometimes the caffe played the radio if there was a big news event or a popular drama was airing a highly-anticipated episode. Asaya never tried to flee, but she still wore the same bright yellow raincoat every time.

“How has the project been going?” Konan hadn’t seen Asaya recently.

“Good. Well. Especially now that Tobi brought some more materials,” Asaya flipped a page of the Asahi Shimbun. She found it interesting that an isolationist country would carry an international newspaper.

WHISTLEBLOWER ALLEGES FIRE COUNTRY ESPIONAGE INTO LIGHTNING’S FORIGN TRADE BEAUREAU

A shocking report from an anonymous whistleblower alleges Fire Country infiltrated Lightning’s Foreign Trade Bureau using a decades-long strategic plan to place undercover operatives in the employment of the bureau. Exactly what classified information may have been leaked has yet to be determined. The agents in question, if still active, have yet to be discovered. If investigation reveals the presence of and interference from spies, Fire Country will have violated article 13 of the Kaibun Treaty, which was signed by all five great nations after the Third Great Ninja War. While the two countries have historically been allied, tensions have risen over the past few years in the wake of multiple scandals, all of which involve international trade. Experts speculate that… Asaya used to want to be informed. It was something she felt passionate about. Now she just couldn’t sustain interest.

“Excellent. We hope to see results soon,” Konan said kindly enough.

“I hope so, too-” she didn’t- “but it will still take some time. Normally, I’d be working with a team of specialists. It’s difficult to do everything myself.”

“We understand,” Konan turned back to the glossy pages of Weekly Toyo Keizai.

Asaya flipped back to read the weekend edition’s full-color yonkoma.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Everything continued to make perfect sense: every character, every sequence, every pattern and formula. She hadn’t figured it all out- not quite yet- but every time she hoped something new might disprove everything else, she was horribly disappointed. It kept her awake at night.

At first, she thought the Demonic Statue was just a particularly skillful forgery. Then, she thought it might be a historical artifact, but one that was constructed symbolically: a monument that did not contain any real power. Now-

Now she was out of alternative explanations.

“Are you feeling ill?” Itachi asked. She had an unusually pale complexion and her brow quivered like she had a fever.

“Itachi,” she crossed her arms and sat back, “it’s real, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” He had been waiting for her to realize it for herself. “You wouldn’t have believed me.”

While slowly shaking her head, Asaya said, “Itachi, I don’t like this.” She felt like maggots crawled through her flesh. She did not like whatever the Akatsuki had planned for the Demonic Statue.

Itachi spoke like a concrete cinder block was chained to his ankle, “I know.” She had never looked at him this way before: helpless. So much like she needed him.

“What does the Akatsuki plan to use this thing for?”

“World domination, obviously,” Itachi answered dry as toast.

She laughed despite herself. “No, really, what’s the master plan?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Your intuition is as good as mine.”

“You wouldn’t tell me regardless, would you?”

“I probably wouldn’t.”

She only hummed in response.

“How much longer do you think it will take you to unseal the statue?” Itachi wanted to know how much more time he had.

“It’s difficult to say. A couple of months. A year or more, possibly. I don’t actually know. And this is all assuming that I can ultimately figure it out.” She rested her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together. “Since Tobi has been-”

“You’ve met Tobi?” Itachi interrupted.

There was something gravely serious in his voice. “Yes. Yes, I have. He’s the one who’s been bringing me all of these materials.”

“Of course,” Itachi muttered. “How often do you see him?”

“Sporadically. He was gone for a while, but he recently returned with these,” she gestured to the stack of materials to her left.

Itachi’s eyes narrowed. He did not like what he heard. “What does he-”

“What do you know about him that I don’t?” Asaya interrupted Itachi this time.

“Nothing. Just avoid him. He’s nothing more than an obnoxious fool who happens to be useful,” Itachi said sharply.

“Please don’t lie to me, Itachi. If you can’t tell me the truth, I understand, but please don’t lie. He’s dangerous, isn’t he?”

Asaya gave him that look again, and Itachi had to pause to still all the different voices in his head. “Avoid him,” he repeated, “And if you can’t, be careful.” He knew, however, that he was ultimately powerless to protect her from anything Obito might do.

“I will, Itachi.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Part III – Hourglass
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was early in the morning, just before sunrise. Itachi usually spent an hour or so walking the windowed hallways and stairs in the mornings before he went to collect Asaya. It was a good way to prepare himself for the long hours underground.

“… important… if… will…” muffled words filtered through the vent above him. It sounded like Pain’s voice. Curious, Itachi looked up at the vent. The space above him was one of the rooms Pain used for Akatsuki- related business.

A voice Itachi did not recognize responded with something he couldn’t quite make out. “… we can… Asaya if…” his ears sharpened at the sound of her name spoken by a stranger.

“…you want… then…” that was Obito’s voice.

The stranger said something entirely unintelligible.

“… deal.” Obito said, and after that final word, the voices died out.

Itachi waited a few moments in case he might hear something else, but the AC whirred on. He lowered his gaze from the vent and continued his walk.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Konan and Asaya sat in the back corner of their favorite café near the speakers that played generic coffee shop piano jazz. Today was particularly chilly, so they each opted for warm, cozy drinks. Konan ordered a double shot latte instead of her usual plain coffee with a splash of milk. Asaya had a cappuccino with whipped cream and a generous sprinkling of cinnamon.

“Your statue, it won’t be fully functional after I’ve removed the primary seal,” Asaya said. No one could hear them over the music. “You’ll need to gather all the other tailed beasts to restore it to full power. But you probably already knew that.”

“Yes, we anticipated as much,” Konan said, dissatisfied but unsurprised. “It’s the next part of the plan.”

“That’s a lot easier said than done. You’d have to capture all nine jinchuriki. They may be outcasts in most places, but they are powerful assets. Their villages won’t just let them go. And in one or two cases, no one knows who the current jinchuriki is.”

“Don’t worry about it. That part of the plan doesn’t concern you.”

Konan’s words pierced Asaya in the chest. She would have served her purpose by then. She’d be unnecessary, useless. Dead weight. She fidgeted with the cardboard sleeve of the coffee cup. It fell loose and hit the table with a small tap.

“Like I said, don’t worry,” Konan reiterated. “By the way, Itachi and Kisame will be departing for a new assignment soon. To southern Fire Country for a task requiring Kisame’s skills. They might be back if you haven’t finished, but it’s a fairly long assignment so something tells me that’s unlikely.” She paused then added, “You’ll have to remember to say goodbye before then. The life of a shinobi is often short. We should take the opportunities life presents us while we can.” She picked up her coffee cup. “But only if you want to.”

Two things happened then then: a lens sharply focused, and an hourglass flipped. “How?” the question came out more air than sound.

“’How,’ what? It’s just an aphorism, Asaya.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Asaya stared out the window at the infinite raindrops invariably throwing themselves from the clouds down onto the city below. One arm crossed over her waist while the other hand was balled into a fist in front of her mouth.

“Don’t,” Itachi said, having entered her room after his knocking was met with silence.

Asaya turned her neck to face him, “Don’t presume to know what I’m thinking.”

“Don’t,” Itachi repeated.

“I haven’t finished breakfast yet. If you’d like, I can pour some tea for you.”

Itachi looked at a half -eaten slice of buttered toast on the table. The cup of tea beside it was mostly full and not steaming. “No, thank you. We should be going now.”

After a reluctant moment where her feet refused to lift themselves from the floor, Asaya turned, stepped towards him, and followed like she had many times before.

Hours passed, and Itachi observed that Asaya had taken to meditatively writing lines of irrelevant script. Lyrics, poems, quotes, and pangrams. Each character and line a study in penmanship. It was something he had seen her do in their travels before on napkins and other scraps of paper when she was bored or worried or otherwise fixated.

Asaya shifted her seat to tuck one leg under the other and shift her weight onto her forearms. “Don’t they have more important things for you to do than babysit me? I’m sure you’d rather be out of this cave, too.”

Her question was clearly an effort to distract herself, but he would indulge her anyway. “I’m not here to babysit you so much as I am here in the event you decide to be,” he thought for a moment, “recalcitrant.” His eyes briefly flashed red.

The corner of her lip turned up, “I seem to recall stripping you of that ability.” She opened her left palm and wiggled her fingers at him.

“You’re welcome to try again, but you’ll be at a significant disadvantage now that I know what you’re capable of. I can trap you in an illusion faster than you can draw a seal,” Itachi said, raising an intrigued brow.

“True, but the real trick last time wasn’t surprising you, it was-” the last words struck her mute- deceiving you.

Itachi’s face lost all expression, clearly knowing what she was about to say.

Asaya’s heart sank sharply at his silent reaction. It was still an elephantine pseudo-secret between them.

“I’d like to apologize for that, by the way,” her whole face might as well spontaneously combust. “Sealing your sharingan from you.”

“Don’t. It was a clever idea,” he said, almost gently. “And I would have found a way to remove it eventually.”

She shook her head, “No, you really wouldn’t have.”

Itachi gave her a dubious stare, as if to say she were full of herself.

Undaunted, she said, “Maybe, but not without losing the rest of your eyesight.”

His shoulders straightened, ‘the rest of your eyesight.’

“Sorry, I- I didn’t mean to-” she’d said something wrong again.

“Even so,” he said plainly, “you saved my life that night.”

Asaya’s heart beat so quickly it could spark a fire. That wasn’t something to thank her for; she was the reason he’d almost died. She cast her gaze away from him and her voice diminished to a whisper, “Don’t say that.” She bit the center of her lower lip, unable to forget the snowy night when his brushed tenderly along hers.

Suddenly eager to focus on anything else, Asaya returned to her work.

Long stalks of grass swayed gently in the warm breeze of a mid-summer’s night. Fireflies danced between the reeds growing from the fertile waters of a lake and many more twinkled in the willow trees above. Silver-white moonlight blanketed the earth.

Itachi sat cross-legged facing the lake with his fingers interlaced in his lap. He had taken off his cloak in the warm air and let the atmosphere wash over him. Kisame lay asleep some feet away while Itachi kept watch.

The moon, full and perfectly round, shined so bright he could see everything with would-be perfect clarity. Eyes half lidded, he gazed at the moon’s perfect reflection in the still, dark water. He exhaled slowly and a name whispered from somewhere deep between his lungs.

Beside Itachi, a wooden crib lined with a pastel-pink mattress and ornamented with a mobile of yellow stars and blue moons sits empty, save for a fuzzy, daisy-white teddy bear.

An infant girl lays happily asleep in Itachi’s lap. He rests with his back propped up by pillows against the headboard of his bed. The infant girl’s tummy is chubby and full from having fed moments earlier. He watches the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. Her tiny nose twitches sometimes when she inhales. He softly runs two fingers over the short wisps of hair she’s grown since being born. Her hair is black like his but it forms loose, wavy curls like her mother’s. He imagines she’ll look more like her mother as she grows.

Itachi’s daughter abruptly squirms. She shakes her fist and kicks her legs from where they had been curled close to her body. At first, he thinks she might wake, but she settles back down almost as quickly as she had moved, but her little fingers wiggle like they are trying to grasp something. He wonders what she might be dreaming of.

Asaya sits beside him in their bed, her hair damp from having taken a bath. She rests her head on his shoulder and nuzzles him affectionately. She strokes their daughter’s curled fingers with her pinky, to which their daughter responds by unconsciously grasping hold.

Itachi turns to say something to Asaya, but he realizes that she, too, has quickly fallen asleep resting against him.

Asaya sat alone on her balcony drenched in pure-white moonlight. She looked up at the celestial sphere in the cloudless night and wondered if Itachi ever shared the same dreams. She didn’t know why, but she had been so emotional as of late, bursting into tears at over the most insignificant stimuli.

It hurt, though, to dream of a future that would never happen. To dream of something that she was powerless to make into reality. To dream a reflection of unobtainable desires. She pulled her sleeve into her fist and used the fabric to wipe a few silent tears from her eyes.

Asaya wanted to accept this for what it was: impermanent but no less meaningful for it. Simultaneously, she wished that she had never given in to her emotions and ipulses. If she could just go back in time and rewrite everything so she could be blissfully unaware. Maybe they’d both be happier for it.

Her lips crept upwards in a wistful smile. Itachi would never question himself like this. She admired that about him- his confidence and resolve.

Asaya worried about Itachi. What future did he have with the Akatsuki? As a criminal? What would happen if he left them? Could he, even? What if he-

Salty tears again flooded her eyes and her lungs shuddered. More droplets soaked her sleeve as her broken cries rang quietly in vain.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Skeleton Flowers

Diphylleia grayi, commonly known as the skeleton flower, is a flowering plant with delicate white blossoms that become transparent when exposed to water, such as when it rains. Sankayō in Japanese.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
PART I

Ligature

Ligature – Noun. 1. A character consisting of two or more joined letters. Or, a stroke that joins two letters in written or printed script. 2. A thing used for tying or binding something tightly. Verb. 1. To bind or connect with a ligature.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Late at night, Itachi escorted Asaya back to her room after an especially long day. It was only a matter of time, now, before she unsealed the Demonic Statue.

Asaya looked up at the ceiling as a rumble of thunder echoed through the building. A mid-summer storm had materialized earlier that evening and shown no sign of dissipating since. It was not violent or loud, but it was relentless nonetheless.

Before she knew it, they arrived at her door. Itachi stood beside it, silently waiting for her to close herself inside. This was likely the last she would ever see of him: just a black silhouette in a dark hallway. Wasn’t this the part where they ought to say “farewell,” or something? It didn’t seem like he was about to say anything at all.

Asaya stared at the brass handle on the red door for a minute in which she considered a hundred thoughts and emotions and choices. She had thought about this moment since first receiving news of his coming departure. Would she? Should she? She wanted to. What if he…? Her heart vacillated endlessly.

“Itachi,” she spoke his name before meeting his gaze. “If I asked, would you?”

Such a subtle change of expression: the faintest tilt of his head, the smallest widening of his eyes as he realized what she was asking.

Itachi’s mouth opened uselessly, wanting to find the right words- any words- to say but entirely unable. “Asaya,” he said, his voice deep and low. He never imagined she would ask.  Could he, even? Was it as simple as just saying yes? But what if…? Her confidence visibly faltered, chased away by his hesitance, and a part of him wished she’d hurry into her room and slam the door in his face, but he knew he would only regret it. “Asaya, I-”

“I know.” That he would be gone tomorrow. That they would never see one another again. That this was only this and nothing more. “Do you- do you want me like I want you?”

Soft lightning flashed across her features, caressing her cheekbones and brow, highlighting her already fair complexion. The shadow under her lips, the ones he had kissed so sweetly once before… He brushed the back of his fingers along her cheek. “Yes,” he whispered to her.

Asaya turned the brass handle and pulled Itachi inside.

The red door shut with an audible click, and Itachi quickly unbuttoned his cloak and tossed it aside. Tentatively, Asaya rested a hand on his chest where she could feel his heart pound against it, steady and firm. She slid her hand up over the ridge of his collar bone, up his neck where she again felt his pulse, and brought it to rest along his jaw.

The last time she touched him like this was that winter night he nearly died of hypothermia after pulling her out of a frozen river. She remembered his body shivering against hers in the snow and lying weak and defenseless in the firelight. It terrified her more than his strength ever had.

Itachi placed his hands around Asaya’s waist, resisting the urge to grip and pull her against him thinking she might recoil and disappear if he touched her the wrong way. He found himself transfixed by her feminine lips for the thousandth time, and he leaned down to finally kiss them like he wanted to for so long.

Their kiss was ardent, but also earnest. The taste of each other a sweet rush of relief to their constant yearning. They savored it until Asaya, nervously impatient, pressed into him just a bit more.

Itachi ran both hands up her ribcage and grazed over her breasts to the top button of her cardigan. He broke away to watch his fingers unbutton it. The emerald green, knit fabric fell from her shoulders. She wore only a plain, grey tank top underneath, the collar of which had pulled askew so as to reveal the top of her breasts. They rose and fell enticingly, and Itachi observed that, in contrast to the dark room, her pale skin appeared to glow.

Asaya felt something suddenly grow within her, something she had only ever felt on restless nights alone. Only now it was more intense, urgent, like smoldering embers on the brink of catching fire. She leaned forward and propped herself up onto her toes to meet him for another kiss, this one passionate and needy. She felt his warm, heavy breath tickling her ear, his tongue gliding over hers. She never knew that a kiss could feel so intoxicatingly good.

Itachi grasped one of her breasts, letting its weight generously fill his hand. He ran a thumb over her nipple and felt it harden through the fabric of her top and bra. It seemed almost absurd, now, that he had tried so hard not to think of all the things he would do to them.

Asaya shivered at his touch, but it reminded her that their clothes were, problematically, still on. She broke away to look behind her. Itachi followed her line of sight and understood. She led him to the bedside, which wasn’t far, and they eagerly undressed one another. Asaya grasped for Itachi’s belt to untie it, he in turn slid his hand under her top and helped lift it over her head. He then pulled her into another embrace to reach around her back to unclasp her bra. Her breasts spilled out, and the sight of her rosy nipples budding mesmerized him.

And then they abandoned the rest of their clothing, and then they found themselves lying on the bed.

The weight of Itachi atop Asaya, more a sensation than real physical pressure, set her body alight, like she’d see herself glowing if she opened her eyes. She ran a series of small kisses along his jaw and down his neck. She loved the way his thin, sensitive skin felt under her lips and tongue.

“Asaya,” he called her name in a moan, and the sound pulled her spine into an upwards arch.

She felt it touch her lower abdomen and inner thigh. It pleased and excited her to know she did that to him, but the anticipation also brought with it a rush of seemingly contradictory emotions. She trailed a hand from his lean back to take hold of his erection. Not too firm for fear of causing him discomfort, but enough that she could stroke him. She liked the velvety, hard fullness of it in her hand, the delicate veins just beneath the surface.

Itachi’s breath caught then shuddered, causing Asaya’s body to tingle. Pleasantly surprised, Itachi stilled while she worked him like galvanized steel.

A single bead of his precum spilled onto Asaya’s porcelain skin. “Ita-,” she gasped.

He nestled just under her jaw and kissed her pulse point, then moved down to her breasts where he ran his tongue over one nipple before taking it into his mouth. He nipped at it, gently pinching it between his teeth and rolling it under his tongue. Asaya’s smaller form squirmed delightfully beneath his larger one. Itachi left her nipple raw and swollen to kiss his way down her body. When he hovered just above her pubic bone, he licked the clear drop of precum off her skin. The salt-sweet viscosity spread and dissipated through his mouth.

Asaya panted long and slow. She found herself almost dizzy, quickly becoming lost to the pleasures of Itachi’s touch. Each of her abdominal muscles twitched and spasmed as his mouth caressed it or his breath swept across her skin, making the fine hairs stand on end. Knowing what he was about to do, she clutched the bedspread.

She inhaled sharply when is warm, slick tongue dove between her folds and languidly trailed over her clit. Itachi’s fascination grew with every sound he elicited from her, every involuntary buck of her hips.

The deft, little strokes of his tongue pulled Asaya toward the edge of something inexpressible inch by blissful inch. Her lashes clamped shut to catch the tears forming in the corners of her eyes and she cried out for him when orgasm trembled through her body.

Itachi wrapped his hands around her thighs to hold her in place while keeping his tongue broad and softly rippling over her engorged clitoris, reveling in the way her vulva spasmed against it, the way her thigh muscles tensed and trapped him between them, and the way she writhed in the ecstasy he gave her.

Raising her arms to rest her hands above her head, Asaya relaxed into a kind of trance. Her legs fell apart to allow Itachi to crawl back up her body, where he placed a kiss on her cheek. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “That was wonderful,” she whispered to him in the dark, “thank you.” It made her heart happy to feel his self-satisfied smile. She raised one leg to brush it along his side, still savoring the echoes of what he had given her. She found herself caught between wanting their foreplay to last forever and the need for him to fill her; she had never felt so swollen and empty all at once.

But Asaya knew better than to wait for long. Itachi’s erection rested its full length on her, practically weeping precum. She could feel it gently pulse, making her smile.

Itachi kissed her deep and sensuous. Their tongues ran smoothly over one another, and Asaya could taste the remains of herself in his mouth: a tarte aftertaste where he was almost sweet. She placed a hand on his lower back, adding a little rock of her hips to encourage him, for which she earned a low reverberation from his chest. Itachi adjusted to align himself properly. He felt her arms tighten around his neck and shoulders trying not to curl her fingers too deeply into his skin.

Itachi parted her, which was effortless because she was so tender and wet. He pushed further to feel her envelope him, warm and silky and tight, at which her toes curled and stomach twisted. And then, finally, he was fully inside her, where he could feel every beautiful articulation of her surrounding him.

He trailed a series of tiny kisses along her neck to coax her to relax, successfully getting her to loosen her grip. In response, she wrapped one leg along his hip. He could feel her clench and squirm her muscles experimentally, the tip of which felt so blissfully stimulated.

“Itachi,” was all she could say.

It thrilled him to hear her say his name so breathless and blushing. He captured her lips again and began to move inside her. Slowly, to feel her texture along his entire length. He had never felt anything so inviting and perfect, like they were meant for this. Gradually, he began to thrust with more force and speed, uncertain if he was chasing pleasure or creating it.

Asaya felt him glide in and out of her being. She splayed her hands over his back and rocked her hips in time with his. Every movement stretched her so full and wide in a pleasure she had never known. Filled her to a point she didn’t know she could take. Stroked a part of her she had never touched herself.

Asaya’s gasps chimed so sweetly in Itachi’s ear, encouraging him to take and give more and more. Every inch of her caressed him with a satiny touch that sent tremors through his body. “Mmn,” he moaned into her mouth. He reached down to grab her thigh, holding it tight against him as he molded her soft flesh in his hand.

Itachi felt himself approaching a pinnacle, tension building somewhere deep. Sweat beaded on his brow and his rhythm quickened, almost erratic. Their kisses, once sensual and measured, grew fervent and impatient. Asaya could feel every little twitch of him within her and a striking eagerness came over her knowing what it meant. She reeled against the confines of her body trying to somehow bring herself closer to him, to hold as much of him as she could, wanting this more than she could ever say.

All at once, something indescribable radiated through Itachi’s body as he released himself deep within her, and for one sublime moment, everything ceased to exist except being together in a state of reciprocated ecstasy.

“Ah,” she offered a soft, blissful whimper at the sudden rush of his fluid. She held him close when he stilled, resting his head on her collar and his breath falling heavy over her neck and chest.

Itachi waited for his pulse to return to normal before carefully pulling out of her and turning over to lay beside her. A calmness settled over him as he wrapped one arm around Asaya and she came to rest her head on his shoulder, one hand on his chest. The sound of endless rain and rumbling thunder slowly returned to his senses, however distant and subdued.

“Tired?” she asked quietly with a coy smile. One leg brought itself to curl around his, wanting to still feel him between them.

“Yes,” Itachi managed to say. He expected to be tired, but not like this. Exhausted yet weightless. Content. Peaceful.

Asaya kissed his shoulder. “Then rest,” she said while tracing little circles over his heart. And he did.

Asaya sighed after Itachi’s eyes closed, drifting anchorless in the steady tide of his embrace.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
PART II

Valediction

Noun. 1. The act of bidding farewell.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In the early, pre-sunrise hours of the morning, a heavy mist formed over Amegakure in the wake of the hot summer storm. It glowed with the refracted light of a thousand neon signs. Asaya gazed in wonder at the ethereal yellows, pinks, blues, and purples spread out against the city. She didn’t know exactly what time it was, but the sun would rise eventually.

From where Asaya rested her arm across Itachi’s chest, she felt him wake, but he did not open his eyes. Not yet. He wanted to enjoy lying next to her in the hazy reverie of their afterglow.

She studied his profile: the ridge of his brow, the light reflecting on the bridge of his nose, and his glossy black hair. He really was handsome. The most strikingly so man she had ever met, anyway. She did not know how she had gotten so lucky as to have his affections, but she would not complain.

She had lightly dozed off herself, but she had awoken again not too long after. It wouldn’t do to completely lose track of time, and she was happy to let him rest while she stayed awake reflecting on everything that had transpired. It was so unexpectedly intimate to feel him orgasm inside of her, to feel it still inside her, some of it beginning to spill between her thighs. She’d always imagined it to be a gross, slimy, unpleasant thing, but it didn’t feel that way now.

“Itachi,” she whispered, feeling quite like a secret lover.

His body shivered in a small yawn as he fully awoke. “Good morning, Asaya,” Itachi said even though it wasn’t morning just yet. His voice was notably somnolent, still tired from earlier that night, but in a good way.

“Morning,” she replied.

Itachi blinked his eyes open, glad that the room and sky were still dark. He said nothing more and simply enjoyed the quietude until Asaya nestled in closer like she could somehow keep him there forever.

“You could fake your death,” he said. “Create a new identity, travel the world. You seemed to like traveling despite the circumstances. Until you find somewhere you’d like to stay.”

I’d like to stay right here, was her impracticable fantasy. “Are you offering to help? That’s very sweet of you,” she pressed her forehead into his shoulder. “I did enjoy traveling, but I had an excellent guide. I’m hopeless on my own,” her tone quietly flattened, “And, anyway, I’ll have served my purpose. No one wants me alive knowing what I do.”

“We don’t know that,” Itachi said firmly. “They might decide to keep you. You’re very useful.”

Asaya shook her head, “Regardless of what they may or may not want, the Tsuchikage wants me eliminated. End of story.”

“I don’t understand why,” Itachi had been curious for a while, but never had a good opportunity to ask. Not that now was the perfect moment.

Asaya shifted to lay on her stomach, crossing her arms under a pillow and resting her head upon it. “I’m on the wrong side of a schism. The Tsuchikage has been in power for over four decades, just as his grandfather was before him, and I’m sure that one of his grandchildren will be after. It’s a dynasty. Dynasties don’t survive by playing fair; they survive by eliminating potential problems before they become real ones.”

“I never knew anti-imperialists had it so rough in Iwa.”

“The emperor is the source of most of Iwa’s money, so there isn’t much anti-imperialist sentiment to begin with. And technically, ‘anti-imperialist’ just refers to anyone who isn’t explicitly imperialist. That’s a broad category. The anti-imperialists in the northwestern territories, for example, think women shouldn’t be able to divorce or inherit property. I’d rather not be associated.” She sighed, “I just think that it’s wrong for one family to have that much wealth and power- in Earth Country or Iwa or anywhere else. But it’s not normally a problem as long as I keep my opinions to myself.”

Itachi smirked; Asaya was always brimming with political insight.

“It’s more to do with who I work for, really. He doesn’t like my mentor. She’s also an anti-imperialist sympathizer and they hate each other. He just wants to spite her by eliminating an entity that’s under her control and not his.” Awkwardly, Tetsuya flashed across Asaya’s mind. “Like I said, you don’t run a dynasty by playing fair.”

Thoughts and memories that Itachi dared not speak aloud stirred in his mind like charred skeletal remains sifted from the ashes of a pyre. “No, you certainly don’t.”

Asaya rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. “A while ago, Konan told me that the Tsuchikage has a history of using the Akatsuki’s services. Or, she implied it, anyway.”

“He does. I’ve completed a number of missions for Iwa. I would’ve told you, but I didn’t know how you would react,” Itachi said.

“I’m not surprised, just mad I didn’t figure it out sooner,” she said flatly, then quieted for a moment while she pondered something. “You never told me why you abandoned Konoha. I know why you’re in the Akatsuki, but you never told me why you left.” Asaya’s impression of Konoha- and by extension Fire Country- was somewhat idealized: more social mobility, less hostility towards other nations, greater economic prospects, a progressive society, and so much more. Although, admittedly, she had never been there, so what did she really know?

Itachi hoped she would never ask. “An ideological dispute,” was all he said.

Asaya had surmised as much, but she also had the sense to recognize he didn’t want to talk about it. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what really happened. The city lights through the window pane cast dim shadows across his face. One neon sign on the façade of the building directly across from them blinked off.

“That was many years ago, though. To be honest, I don’t know that I remember what I was thinking at the time.”

Asaya hummed and propped herself up onto one forearm, “I understand.” She swept her hair over one shoulder and leaned over him for one more kiss. He slid one hand into the curve of her waist.

“You should go,” Asaya said. “Before someone notices.”

The sky outside was still completely dark, Itachi noted with a sly half-smile. “Would you not have me again?”

Asaya blushed, “Of course.”

A few more signs had flickered off and the faintest hint of sunlight glowed in the clouds on the far edge of the horizon. Asaya lay curled under the sheets after they had acknowledged that it was time to part.

Itachi gathered his clothes from where they had been discarded on the floor and dressed. The bed rustled as he sat down behind her. “Asaya,” he called her with a tenderness that could have broken her heart.

She craned her head around to look at him over her shoulder. He placed one hand on her hip, at which she folded her legs underneath herself to sit up before him even though she did not want to watch him leave.

Gently, Itachi brushed Asaya’s hair aside to leave a kiss on the center of her forehead.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~
PART I
Kindred Spirit
~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Asaya peeled open the plastic wrapping of a disposable menstrual pad and attached it to her panties with a sense of relief. Her period had arrived exactly as she had expected three days after Itachi departed. She chided herself for being so reckless, using what she knew to be a wholly unreliable method of birth control. But it was the only one she had. Not that that was an excuse.

Where would she have gotten a condom, anyway? Asaya imagined how Konan might have reacted had she asked for one, and the idea of the older woman’s bewilderment amused her. But, even if Konan would have provided one, Asaya couldn’t have asked without raising suspicion on, if not outright revealing, herself and Itachi. There was a chance that the Akatsuki wouldn’t disapprove of him sleeping with her, but they most likely would, and at the very least she knew Itachi would want to keep his affairs private. Therefore, the calendar method was her only option. Luckily it worked this time, but she would have never done it under any other circumstances, and she would never do it again.

Asaya pulled up her panties, rolled up her tights, slipped on a knee-length dress, and buttoned up her favorite, emerald-green cardigan. After pinning her long hair into a bun and styling her bangs, she was ready to go. She really did enjoy her outings with Konan. She liked getting dressed up, or at least neatening her appearance, specifically to go out. She liked drinking coffee and eating pastries while reading newspapers and magazines while listening to cheesy, commercial jazz music and the sensation of rain pelting her head and shoulders while walking between the impossible skyscrapers. She knew she’d miss Konan once this was all over.

And recently, Konan had begun to have chats with Asaya about things other than the Doomsday Idol, albeit not very long ones. As it turned out, Konan was quite the economist. This shouldn’t have been surprising, considering Konan’s position as Amegakure’s shadow governor, but Asaya was happy for and always looked forward to her enlightening conversation. She learned that Amegakure’s rapid development and prosperity after the Third Great Shinobi War was largely due to Konan’s initiative. Asaya was impressed.

Konan’s knock on the door came right on time. “Coming,” Asaya called while stuffing a few extra pads into a small handbag. She grabbed her bright-yellow raincoat off the rack and opened the door.

“Ready?” Konan asked. These outings were also the only time Asaya saw Konan wearing anything other than the Akatsuki cloak. Instead, she wore a black turtle neck and trench coat, which didn’t make for a flashy outfit, but it was sharply fitted and styled.

“Yes,” Asaya answered.

At the café, they sipped coffee and nibbled croissants just as always.

Asaya folded the weekend edition of the Asahi Shimbun to an article titled “Globalization: Reexamining Long-Held Economic Beliefs” and flattened it on the table in front of her. She rested both elbows on the table and held her head between both hands while she looked down to read.

After the end of the great war nearly two decades ago, the international race for companies to find the cheapest sources of labor exploded. These practices resulted in the majority of industrial jobs being exported smaller countries, regardless of hazardous working conditions, environmental impact, or domestic rights. This has resulted in the elimination of an entire economic class domestically and a rise in climate-related disasters, which has caused disruptions to the global food supply chain, further exacerbating inflation and unemployment.

It seemed to Asaya, as she read, that the real problem was not globalization per se, but some other underlying cause.

Policymakers have shied away from passing regulations regarding the issues, believing that the free market would naturally result in efficiency and growth.

Shocking, Asaya thought sarcastically with a frown. This was the sort of topic she used to discuss with Itachi in the long interims between assignments. Late at night by the fire or in a cheap hotel room lying in separate, equally uncomfortable twin beds.

Three days was all he had been gone for. Every spare moment since had been occupied by some combination of memory and imagination. She thought that the night they had shared would have sated her desires, and in a way it did, but it had also given rise to entirely new ones. Now, instead of longing to know the feel of his hands roaming her body, his lips caressing her skin, or his length filling her, she longed to experience it all over again, to explore new ways of giving one another pleasure.

Asaya touched the center of her forehead while staring at the milk swirling languidly in her coffee. They would never meet again.

Konan noticed Asaya’s peculiar wistfulness. It was hard not to, as it had followed her for days now like a second shadow. It wasn’t difficult to guess what had caused it.

The blue-haired woman could understand what Itachi might like about Asaya, but she could not fathom what Asaya saw in Itachi. Because what little personality Itachi did have, as far as Konan knew, was unpleasant. Arrogant, stuck-up, misanthropic. He was not crass or rude like Kisame or Deidara or Hidan, in fact he was rather formal. But in a snobbish, supercilious way. As if he were somehow better than everyone even though he was just as much a criminal as anyone else in the Akatsuki considering what he did. Konan’s brow pinched; she hoped Asaya wasn’t the type of woman who was helplessly attracted to bastards.

“Something catch your attention?” Konan asked.

“Hm,” Asaya looked up, “Oh, just this article.”

Konan looked down at the newspaper sitting in front of the younger woman. “Ah, yes. Globalization’s been in all the papers lately. The larger nations have effectively outsourced major sectors of their economies to the lowest bidder, which has caused numerous problems. An article in Weekly Toyo Keizai speculated that even though Lightning Country is the wealthiest nation, it’s at risk of collapse because of unaddressed underemployment and wage stagnation, although the article didn’t exactly phrase it that way. All the wealth is concentrated at the top, so major swaths of the population just can’t afford to participate and thrive in their own economy. It’s causing a lot of tensions domestically and internationally. This is also why Amegakure remains firmly isolationist; we aren’t interested in being exploited by the larger nations.”

Asaya would really miss talking to Konan. The woman was fascinatingly brilliant.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Ah, Konan, just who I wanted to see. What’s the news?” Obito leaned back in his generously comfortable armchair. He had recently returned from a long period away.

“It’s good to see you back,” Konan replied. “Asaya plans to make another attempt to unseal the Demonic Statue at the end of next week. Her first attempt a few days ago was a failure, but that was to be expected. She’s learned what she needed to and is ready to try again.”

“Excellent, just what I want to hear,” Obito said. “I plan on being there, of course. It’ll be an exciting day for everyone.”

“Certainly, sir,” Konan said.

“By the way, did you know that Itachi was seen walking down the northeastern corridor on the 38^th floor very early the morning he left?”

“I did not. I don’t keep tabs on Itachi’s whereabouts, but I know he routinely took walks around the building early in the morning.”

“Oh? Were they always in that area? You know, by Asaya’s room.”

“That’s a good question. I don’t know.” Shit.

Obito chuckled. “One of Pain’s puppets saw him. He frequently has one patrolling around her room, but you already knew that.”

Konan tilted her head and raised a brow in feigned ignorance.

“He spent the night in her room, Konan,” Obito’s voice was unamusedly flat.

“I see,” Konan said evenly. “Is there something you would like me to do about it?”

“There’s no point. He won’t be back anytime soon.” Obito tapped one finger on his knee. “I knew he was fucking her,” he grumbled under his breath.

Konan declined to say that, to the best of her knowledge, they had only fucked. Singular. At least since they had been in Amegakure. She had no conclusive evidence as to what may or may not have happened before, but her instincts leaned towards singularity.

“I knew that was how she escaped. For his sake, I hope the blowjob was worth it.”

Konan did not appreciate the vulgarity. “Itachi isn’t the type to-“

“Appearances can be deceiving, Konan. Especially with someone like Itachi.” Obito scoffed, “Well, at least his balls have finally dropped. I was getting worried.”

“If it makes no difference, then what is your point, sir?” she asked. She would have rolled her eyes if she could.

“Depends on what I ultimately decide to do with the girl. She’s turning out to be a much better deal than I bargained for.” She was useful for not only her abilities, but possibly for influencing Itachi as well.

“That reminds me,” Konan wanted to change the topic, “about the negotiations…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~
PART II
Demons
~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Asaya looked over the counter seal she prepared one final time, reviewing sequences here and there and comparing them against her notes. She had written the counter seal upon an especially large scroll of paper. It had taken her the better part of two days just to handwrite all the calligraphy. If this attempt failed, which was a very real likelihood, then she would have to tediously recreate the whole thing again with corrections. She really, really didn’t want to have to do that.

Asaya took a deep breath. It all looked complete.

“Ready?” Konan asked handing Asaya her string of beads. “Pain should be here any moment.”

Asaya wrapped the beads around her left wrist just as she always wore them. “Yes. I’ll begin when he arrives,” she said while laying out the scroll in front of the Demonic Statue and kneeling down to sit on her heels in seiza.

Only a few minutes later, Pain entered the underground cave, but he was not alone like she expected.

“Hello, Miss. Asaya!” Tobi greeted her cheerfully. “I heard you’re going to unseal the statue today. I’m so excited to see it!”

Asaya only responded with a flat, uncomfortable smile.

This was going to be a fun day, Obito thought.

“Whenever you are ready, Asaya,” Pain prompted.

“Yes, sir,” Asaya laced her beads between her fingers, flattened both palms together, looked up at the Demonic Statue, and closed her eyes.

After one slow, deep breath, Asaya manifested her chakra into her hands and extended it into her string of beads. They took on a feint, pure-white glow. She pulled her hands shoulder-width apart, and the beads multiplied in length. She made the first sequence of seals- dragon, ox, rabbit, tiger- then slapped her hands back together. The long string of beads floated in the air, further lengthening to circle her body

Obito stood transfixed by the sight before him. His plans had been stalled for so long because of this, and now he was so achingly close. He heard her speak words in a language he did not understand, probably an ancient tongue, then she slamed both palms on the scroll. Nothing happened at first, but she kept her hands on the scroll, clearly channeling chakra into it.

She visibly winced, and Obito’s chest tightened. He had to temper his expectations, remind himself that this attempt would likely fail, but damn did he want it to succeed.  

Asaya grit her teeth. She felt a powerful resistance, the same forse that had stopped her first attempt. It stirred, sensing her intrusion, and quickly spiraled into a massive whirlpool. But this time instead of staggering and being overwhelmed, she could channel it. She made another long sequence of seals, and, though it was difficult, began to channel and direct the power of the seal binding the Demonic Statue. Her chest heaved at the effort, but she persisted.

A new presence entered her conscience, one that was malicious and awesome and willful. This must be the power of the Demonic Statue, Asaya realized. It was every bit as terrifying as she imagined it to be. It clawed at her from behind the seal, wanting her to reach for it, to open its cage like the ravenous, deranged monster that it was. Despite every instinct screaming at her not to, she did, and she felt the binding seal begin to thin and weaken bit by bit until she could almost puncture it like paper. So close-

Obito, Pain, and Konan watched frozen where they stood as the scroll in the Demonic Statue’s mouth and the chains binding its fists shined a bright, golden light that weighed taught and heavy in the air around them. Then it dimmed into almost nothing while an angry, purple-red glow consumed it, bathing the cave in a wicked red.

Asaya sharply howled in pain. The sound of her squealing echoed off the stone walls and pierced their ears.

Seconds later, the Demonic Stature rumbled and shook. They looked up at it, not knowing what to expect next. They heard what sounded like stone cracking, then the scroll gagging the statue’s mouth abruptly dropped to hang uselessly beside its neck. Its hands, balled and fisted together, broke apart and rotated so that its palms faced upwards, its fingers curled as if to obtain something. The red light vanished and all was silent.

Obito’s eyes widened behind his mask. Was this finally it, he thought completely stunned. He could not speak, waiting to see if he were just imagining it all.

Konan brought one hand to loosely cover her mouth. She hadn’t realized how fast her heart was racing until just now.

Asaya brushed one hand across her sweating brow. Exhaustion immediately overcame her once all the chaotic energy dispersed. She leaned forward and braced herself on both hands, unable to sit up while her vision blurred. “Good girl, Asaya,” she heard Konan say, and felt herself pulled into her arms. Asaya collapsed into Konan’s chest without hesitation.

“It worked,” Asaya wheezed.

“Yes, you did it,” Konan gently whispered while rubbing a hand soothingly over her back.

“Everything hurts,” Asaya mumbled before passing out in Konan’s arms.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Asaya’s eyes opened.

“How are you feeling?” a voice that sounded like Konan’s asked.

Asaya could only offer a limp groan, but she was quickly gaining awareness. She felt terrible, the worst she’d ever felt in her life. Like she was completely drained and wrung out of all her energy. All she could really do was breathe, but even that was uncomfortable.

“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a few days now,” Konan said sitting at Asaya’s bedside. “Do you think you can stay awake this time?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Good. I’m glad,” Konan said softly.

The memory of the Demonic Statue surfaced in Asaya’s mind. How it had reached for her- clawing, clawing, clawing behind the seal with a mindless hunger. It had touched her after the seal broke, however briefly. She’d never felt a pain like that in her life. Incomparable to any physical pain, it was something entirely new and inexplicable. Like it had grasped a piece of her soul and tried to rip it from her body. It was pure agony, and the echoes of it still seethed inside her veins.

“Konan, leave us,” a male voice said, one that was both new and familiar. “I said go,” he firmly repeated.

Asaya felt Konan stand up from the bed and utter a “Take care.” Then the door opened and shut.

The new voice dragged a chair over to her and sat down. The sound of the wooden legs scraping the floor stabbed her eardrums like a thousand needles.

Tobi, she thought confused upon seeing the orange mask.

“Good girl,” he said, “You’ve made me very happy.” But his was not the jovial, childish tone she associated with Tobi.

“I’ll have to find a way to congratulate you. I’ve been trying to unseal that statue for a decade,” he continued. “But I have time to figure something out while you recover. I’m surprised you lived, to be honest.” He placed one finger on his chin, “You’re not into gift baskets, are you?”

Asaya did her best to glare at him.

He chuckled at her antic. “Ah, yes. You already suspected I was keeping my true identity a secret, didn’t you? I’m Obito, the real leader of the Akatsuki.”

Of fucking course, Asaya thought derisively.

“But that’s not all,” he reached for his mask and lifted it over his face.

Asaya didn’t really have a clear picture of what she thought Tobi really looked like behind the mask, but she was surprised nonetheless. Half his face was covered in gnarled scarring and his left eye remained closed. The lid appeared oddly flat and sunken, meaning he lost that eye. The one he still had, though, was pitch black with no distinction between pupil and iris, just like-

His eye flashed scarlet red. “More specifically, my name is Uchiha Obito.” He laughed again at her reaction, “You should see the look on your face. Yes, your lover-boy and I are from the same clan. Or were, I suppose. I helped him with the Uchiha massacre, actually. Well, except for his younger brother, but I didn’t tell you that if you didn’t already know.”

Asaya’s mind whirled. This was too much information at once for her weakened state, and it all turned into static. “What- what do you want?” she eked out.

“Good question. I’m just fucking with you, really. You’re not going to remember any of this later.”

Asaya turned her head away in anger, but he pinched her chin between his thumb and index finger to turn it back. His eyes roamed uncomfortably over her face, scrutinizing every detail.

“I guess I can’t blame him,” he muttered bitterly and withdrew his hand.

Asaya’s mind began to catch up. She remembered Itachi said he had a younger brother, one he appeared to think of dearly. But what was this about a massacre? And ‘lover boy’? Then he knew that- did Konan tell him?

“You know what,” Obito said, “you’re a good pawn to have. Maybe I’ll see if there’s a way to keep you around.”

His sharingan spun, and Asaya fell unconscious.

She is splayed out on the bed before him while he stands at the edge thrusting into her. He watches his length disappear deep inside of her again and again. Her legs are pushed wide apart by his hands. He looks at her breasts and hard, petite nipples as they bounce in time with his movements, at her head tilted back in pleasure, then at the creamy flesh of her thigh, and then again at his length as it repeatedly disappears inside her.

She bows her back into the mattress and clutches the sheets in both hands, but he does not hear her moan. He hears nothing at all.

He forcefully locks his hips against hers and holds himself fully inside of her for a moment before pulling out his half-soft shaft. It almost glistens with her slick. He stares while she continues to hold her legs apart for him. After a moment, a bead of his cum blooms from her folds. He drops to his knees before her, transfixed by his own emission in the woman’s vulva. He leans forward, reaching out his tongue to lap at her opening, his tongue broad and wide. She bucks sharply beneath his caress. He runs it upward to her clit and he is rewarded with more twitches of her hips as his tongue swirls the mixture of their fluids over her swollen, sensitive bud.

Her lower abdominal muscles tense and ripple as he suckles at her clit. Her rib cage abruptly pulls up and her legs shudder as she orgasms, back bowing into the mattress. He continues to lick at her and she spasms erratically before clenching her thighs around him as a signal to stop.

He slowly pulls away, watching as her muscles fully relax and her thighs fall apart once more. Her chest heaves slowly in and out. He runs his hand languorously up and down her thigh like a pendulum in perfect rhythm.

“Fucking damnit,” Sasuke groaned. He looked up at the analog clock on the dirty yellow drywall of his cheap hotel room. 3:06 AM. He dropped his head back down on the thin, lumpy pillow. Tomorrow- not technically later today, but tomorrow- he will arrive in Iwa.

PART I
Suspension

Asaya had been recovering from releasing the seal on the Demonic Statue for weeks. A good part of it she spent lying stagnant and torpid in bed, quasi-conscious with minimal functionality. Over time, she recovered enough mental and physical strength to roll over in bed or prop herself up onto the pillows and sit up. Walking was still difficult, and she couldn’t safely do it by herself. One night in a fit of restiveness, she had tried to walk to the sink for a glass of water. She fell after taking a few steps from the bed and lay on the floor all night until Konan found her the next day. She resented her weakness, but she’d learned her lesson. She worried she would never fully recover.

Konan brought a tray table of breakfast over to Asaya. Normally, one of Pain’s puppet forms tended to her needs. A silver bell rested on her nightstand should she ever need to call for assistance. She found it disturbing how they were just that: puppets. Puppets made from human bodies. They did not speak or react organically to any stimuli, they only executed orders and commands. But today, happily, Konan visited.

“You appear to be doing better,” she remarked.

“I think so. I’m not getting worse,” Asaya said.

“Well, that’s good. I’ve wanted to arrange for you to see a doctor, but it’s been difficult. We have to consider our security and secrecy, and all.” Konan reclined into a chair by Asaya’s bedside.

“I understand. Thank you. But I’m not sure what a doctor would tell us that we don’t already know: rest, and recovery, and a healthy diet.”

“It would still be nice to confirm. What you don’t know can hurt you,” Konan said, and Asaya had the impression there was a story behind that statement.

“True,” Asaya would like to know what her prognosis was, but she also didn’t. She picked her thumbs nervously. “Konan, if I might ask, what do you plan on doing with me?”

“To be honest, we haven’t quite figured it out yet,” Konan said plainly.

“Are you going to dispose of me?” Asaya asked, clearly having been worried for some time. “I don’t see the point of taking care of me if you’re just going to get rid of me.”

Konan chuckled with a smile, “Don’t worry. We aren’t planning on that. You’re too valuable.” However, Asaya noticed a twinge of uncertainty in her face.

“To be completely honest, we had considered it at one point, but we’ve decided not to. We just haven’t figured out what to do, is all.”

“Am I going to be stuck here forever?” Asaya wouldn’t like it, but at least she’d be alive.

“Possibly,” was all Konan said. “You should eat,” she prompted Asaya. “Your breakfast won’t taste good cold.”

“Right,” Asaya grabbed a slice of toast and a knife.

“I said I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going to hand her back to you, no matter what your madame offers me,” Obito crossed his arms, “She’s too useful to me. “

“She understands. What she is asking for is a sort of compromise. You may request her use as needed, but otherwise she will remain in Iwa with Madame Fukurou. This way, our madame gets her apprentice back and you still have use of her skills,” a masked ANBU from Iwagakure said.

“What if I request the use of her skills indefinitely?” Obito asked. They didn’t know that the girl, Asaya, was in poor condition and he wasn’t going to tell them. Unsealing the statue had nearly taken her life and her subsequent recovery was slow. She had spent weeks and bed and still could not walk or use her chakra to any meaningful extent. There was a very real possibility that she was now useless to everyone.

The Iwa shinobi was not sure how to reply to the glib question.

Obito continued, “And besides, if I hand her back to you, what guarantee do I have that you’ll actually loan her back to me?”

“The guarantee is in exactly what we’ve been proposing. Iwagakure has hired the Akatsuki for all sorts of illegal activities and would like to continue to do so. But instead of paying with cash or other means, we will pay by lending you use of the girl,” the Iwa shinobi said flatly. “It saves us a lot of money and provides you with a resource you can’t buy. Everyone wins.”

“You are still missing a fundamental point: I already have her. You need to give me a reason to give her back in the first place,” Obito said. Now that he had more time to consider it, he should take Konan’s advice to have a doctor assess the girl’s condition. He needed to know whether she’d make a full recovery or if she’d be bedridden and worthless for the rest of her life.

“Well…”

PART II
Bad News

Asaya fretfully picked a hangnail while sitting in a wheelchair in the waiting room of a doctor’s office. One tiny piece of skin on her left middle finger tore off and bled just a little. The sting from touching the area was worse. Konan had finally scheduled for her to see a doctor about her condition, and that morning had taken her to a hospital in a wheelchair, since walking was still out of the question. Konan sat next to her in the waiting room, calm and collected as ever by all outward appearances. This was a civilian hospital, but the specific doctor they were here to see had retired from Amegakure’s forces and had experience treating chakra-related conditions.

“Ito Tomoyo,” a nurse called her alias from the door to the appointment rooms and Konan wheeled her in.

The nurse first introduced himself then promptly took Asaya’s blood pressure and heart rate, then confirmed her personal information. She responded with the false information Konan had told her to. He scribbled some notes onto a clipboard before lifting her from the wheelchair onto the examination table.

The nurse looked at Konan. “And what is your relation to the patient?” he asked.

“Aoi is my older sister,” Asaya answered.

The nurse wrote something else on his clipboard and said, “Verry well, please remove your clothing and put on this gown. Doctor Suzuki will be in shortly,” then handed her a pale blue hospital gown and exited.

Asaya awkwardly stared at the hospital gown in her lap.

“It’s alright, we’re both ladies,” Konan said assuringly before helping her out of her clothes and into the gown.

Not too long after, someone knocked on the door and said, “Doctor Suzuki is here,” before coming in.

Doctor Suzuki was a woman who appeared to be in her mid-fifties, as far as Asaya could tell, with salt-and-pepper grey hair trimmed to her jaw. “I’m Doctor Suzuki, it’s nice to meet you. What brings you here today?”

“Well,” Asaya began, “I overexerted myself and my chakra network in training and I’ve been bedridden ever since. I’ve had limited mobility and can’t use my chakra anymore.”

“How long ago was this?” Dr. Suzuki asked.

“Almost a month.”

Dr Suzuki restrained a sigh, as if to say, you should have come sooner. “Please lie down so I can examine you.” She placed her palms over Asaya’s navel and palpitated her abdomen. Then, the doctor placed one hand over Asaya’s sternum.

Asaya knew the doctor was using her chakra to examine her own chakra network, but it didn’t feel like it should have. It felt like a weird, not-quite-painful, static pressure. Then the doctor repeated the same steps with her arms and legs, articulating their joints to check their functionality.

“What exactly were you doing when you injured yourself?” Dr. Suzuki asked with a frown.

“I overexerted myself in training,” Asaya answered.

“Yes, I understand that, but what were you training for? This isn’t a typical injury.”

Asaya thought nervously for a moment. She couldn’t tell the truth, first because Konan said not to and second because no one in their right mind would believe her. But if she lied to the doctor, she risked improper treatment. “I remember I was experimenting with fuinjutsu, but I don’t remember exactly what I did wrong because I passed out. When I woke up, I was like this. I thought I’d get better with rest but I haven’t. I can almost walk independently again, though.”

Doctor Suzuki shook her head with a perplexed expression and Asaya’s heart sank. “To be honest, I’m not sure this is within my ability to treat. I’ve never seen anything like it, but I also haven’t had many patients who’ve injured themselves with fuinjutsu. You have a rare talent, Ms. Ito.”

"Is there anything we can do?” Konan asked what they both wanted to know.

“We can start with physical and chakra therapies to help your body recover. But that alone won't solve the problem. For that, we'll need to address the damage caused by the malfunctioning fuinjutsu. The bad news is that there isn't anyone in Amegakure with the qualifications to treat this. We simply don't have fuinjutsu and medical specialists like other countries do. And even then, I’m not sure what the final prognosis will be. You’ll most likely have lasting damage.”

Asaya knew this was what the doctor was going to say, but she had hoped for a better outcome anyway. “Will I at least be able to walk again?” her voice began to shake.

“It will probably take a long time, but I think there’s a good chance you will,” Doctor Suzuki said.

Asaya fought to hold back her tears, “Alright.”

“How soon can we begin treatment?” Konan asked.

“You can speak with my nurse on your way out. He can schedule your first few appointments and…” Dr Suzuki went on to explain.

Asaya was glad Konan was here to speak with the doctor on her behalf, because she was not able to speak for herself right now.

PART III
Absence
Noun. 1. The state of being away from a place or person. 2. A state or condition in which something expected, wanted, or looked for is not present or does not exist: a state or condition in which something is absent. 3. Inattention to present surroundings or occurrence- usually used in the phrase absence of mind.

Itachi had been traveling the coast of southern Fire Country on a mission involving pirates. It was an assignment specifically for Kisame. He was a shark-man, after all.

On the far wall of his one-bed hotel room was a cheap copy of Hokusai’s Great Wave. Asaya hated that print. It drove her mad that it had been displayed everywhere they went in Water Country.

If Itachi had known that Obito planned for Asaya to unseal the Demonic Statue- or the Doomsday Idol, as she deemed it- he would have killed her. She would have inconspicuously fallen to her death off the side of an unnamed mountain in Earth Country the night they met. Obito knew that, or at least reasonably foresaw it. That was the entire reason Itachi was never informed, not at all because Zetsu thought it was “funny.”

Itachi had never truly gained Obito’s trust, and he never would despite how much Obito needs him. Obito always knew that Itachi joined the Akatsuki for his own reasons, he just never figured out what those reasons truly were. Obito knew to be wary of Itachi betraying or deserting him, so he kept his aces up his sleeves. Itachi couldn’t blame him.

He first suspected the statue was Asaya’s purpose when Deidara revealed her abilities. But by the time he knew conclusively, he didn’t want to believe it was true. Itachi was in denial, pretending it was just about using her for ransom and a handful of lucrative missions and nothing more. The fate of the entire world was at stake and Itachi selfishly chose her. Obito was a bastard in more ways than he knew to give himself credit for.

‘I don’t actually hate it,’ she had said of the woodblock print one night lying in the twin bed across from him, ‘I just wish they could think of literally anything else.’ Ever since, Itachi noticed it everywhere in coastal or island regions and he started to find it annoying, too.

Itachi could not keep her from his mind, finding little reminders of her everywhere. When he was alone like this, he often thought of the last night they shared in Amegakure: of her laying naked on her back beneath him; of her hand around his length, gently working him; of his tongue caressing between her thighs. He was a man, after all.

He thought of their second time when he had laid her on her stomach and entered her from behind, of the way her breath and body shuddered so excitedly when he kissed the center of her back. He was surprised by it, having had no idea that doing so would elicit such a reaction. He had persisted kissing the spot because it amused him how it tickled her. Playful, that’s what it was, but the memory was bittersweet.

But mostly, he missed listening to her comments like, ‘Hokusai made thirty-five other woodblock prints of mount Fuji and the Great Wave is the only one in a frame.’ Maybe one day he would see what the other thirty-five prints looked like.

Late at night, Asaya lay awake staring out the open window at all the colors glowing soft and beautiful outside of her room. She reached one arm across the empty side of the bed, closed her eyes, and thought of him rushing over her like solar wind across the night sky.

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Part I: Deidara

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“You’re the new girl, yeah? The one who never talks?” A blond boy about eight years old hopped on top of the iron banister of the brick staircase of the back entrance to Iwa’s Academy, which overlooked the courtyard and playground.

A girl, also about eight years old, shrugged with exaggerated motion as if to say, ‘I guess so.’ She looked up at the strange boy from where she sat on one of the middle steps.

“I guess I’m right then, un. I know because I heard the other kids talking about you. They said it was weird you didn’t talk, but you did everything you were told so the adults didn’t care, yeah,” he said. “Made me curious, un.”

The sound of children laughing and playing echoed across the courtyard and bounced off the stone wall behind them.

“My name is Deidara, hm.” he introduced himself. “We’re going to be in the same class next year after we come back from summer break, un.”

The girl twitched the corners of her mouth briefly upwards in an almost smile.

“So where are you from?”

She didn’t say anything.

“The Capitol? That’s where most conscripts come from, yeah.”

She shook her head.

“Hmm, somewhere south, maybe?”

She shook her head again, slightly harder this time.

“The north, hm?”

She nodded.

“That’s cool, un.” Deidara jumped off the banister onto the stair beside her and sat down too.

The girl blinked a few times, unused to anyone being so friendly towards her.

He looked at her expectantly for a moment before finally saying, “Wow, you really don’t talk, do you?”

Embarrassed, the girl glanced down at the bottom of the stairs, her body appearing to shrink into itself.

“It’s ok, don’t worry, yeah. You don’t have to say anything,” he said to make her feel better. “I can talk enough for the both of us, un.” It seemed to lessen her self-consciousness, because she looked back at him with another almost smile.

One of the teachers shouted for their class, and half of the children in the playground suddenly ran to line up.

“That’s my class. Gotta go, hm” Deidara practically skipped to the bottom of the stairs. “You’ll have to tell me your name next week!” He waved goodbye.

The girl waved back as he sprinted away.

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Breakfast had always been Asaya’s favorite meal of the day. She didn’t always wake up early enough to enjoy it, but it was still her favorite. Fortunately, today was one of the days she had woken up early enough. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and placed her bare feet on the cool floor.

Since beginning regular therapy, she had made great progress in her physical recovery. She could walk, and run, and climb stairs all by herself now, although she fatigued quickly. She’d wished she had begun treatment sooner. Recovering the ability to use chakra, however, wasn’t going as well.

She sat down at the small round table at the other side of her room. The clock read 8:57 am. One of Pain’s puppets arrived two minutes later with a tray of food, set it down in front of her, then left. Asaya used to greet them when they arrived and thank them for taking care of her or doing her favors, but they never responded. They never reacted to anything organically, only performed tasks and carried out instructions like machines. They were not individual people, just animated corpses. And so, Asaya stopped greeting and thanking them. Just like she didn’t thank the kettle for boiling or the lights for turning on when she flipped a switch.

She wanted to know how Pain did it, what technique he used to create and control them. She only knew that it must have something to do with those black piercings and strange, purple-ringed eyes they all shared in common.

Asaya poured coffee from a steel carafe into a mug and added some cream. Although they always gave her a small jar of sugar, she did not add any to the coffee. She did not like sweetened drinks. Then, she grabbed a knife to butter the toast. There were also scrambled eggs and bacon slices prepared just like she’d eat at a diner. And a fresh copy of today’s issue of the Asahi Shimbun newspaper was placed on the right-hand side of the tray.

Someone knocked on the red door, and before she could welcome them in, Deidara waltzed in with a “Hey, long time no see, un.”

Asaya was caught entirely off-guard by his unexpected arrival, but the shock quickly faded into annoyance. “What do you want?” she said flatly.

“Don’t give me that attitude.” He pulled out the chair next to her and sat down like they were friends who had just seen each other yesterday. “It’s nice to see you again, too, yeah.”

Asaya dipped her knife into a small condiment dish of jam, “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to say ‘hi,’ Sasaya,” Didara said, undetered by her cold shoulder. “How’ve you been? I heard you unsealed that weird statue thing, yeah. Congrats.”

She ignored his use of her old nickname. “Kind of terrible, but thanks.” If he’d heard about the statue, then he probably knew how it had affected her. “Not as bad as I was before, though. Physically, I’m almost back to normal. Just out of shape.”

“How about your chakra, hm?”

“Not great,” she mumbled.

Deidara dropped his shoulders and leaned back. He seemed hold back whatever he was thinking, which was unlike him, and he looked at her with an uncomfortable pity.

“Please don’t look at me like that,” Asaya said, and a stagnant silence filled the room. Finally, she thought to say, “I blew up a building a while ago. That’s how I escaped you guys. Well, technically I just set it on fire, but it was still amazing. You should’ve seen it.”

“I heard about that, un. Story they told me is that the whole place blew up in flames and you jumped off the roof and over a cliff. They thought you’d died except they couldn’t find your body, yeah. I knew you’d probably used that wind technique where you catch yourself from falling. Sasori and I were sent to track you down, too, but we bet on you heading for Iwa instead of the capitol, hm. Pain was so serious about getting you back that he even sent Kakuzu after you too, but you’re lucky he didn’t find you. Dude’s one vicious creep, un.”

Both Itachi and Konan had explicitly warned Asaya about Kakuzu. They said he was greedy and wouldn’t intentionally harm her if money was at stake, but he was too violent and volatile to trust. “So I’ve heard,” Asaya bit into her toast with a mild crunch.

“Speaking of Iwa,” Deidara said, “would you still rather go back or do you prefer living in this penthouse, hm? Must be pretty nice here if you haven’t tried any more of your famous escape attempts, yeah.”

Asaya wouldn’t exactly call the unit they’d given her a penthouse, but “Why would I want to go back to Iwa?” she said with a sort of repulsion that Deidara found curious.

“…So you could go home and see Tsuta or Tetsuya again, or something?” Deidara quirked a brow. “Yeah?”

“What makes you think that I’d want to…” she ground her teeth, “Wait, did you know that Oonoki sold me to your organization?”

“Wait, what?” Deidara’s brow scrunched. “No. Why would he do that, hm?”

Asaya bit her lip as her cheeks began to flush. “A lot of reasons. To spite Fukurou, for one. And apparently, he had a lot of debt cleared up in a way that wouldn’t make forensic accounting suspicious. But also,” she struggled to say it, “I think it’s because I turned down Tetsuya’s proposal.”

“What?! Are you crazy, hm?” he gawked at her, “You’re a conscriptee from the northwestern territories, Asaya. Tetsuya is the Tsuchikage’s grandson. And he was, like, the perfect guy, yeah. Nice, good looking, lots of money.” He counted each point with an emphatic finger. “You’d’ve been set for life. Life, mm.”

“I know,” Asaya winced, “He’s a one-in-a-million guy, but-” she shook her head. She just couldn’t. “I just didn’t want to be trapped, I guess.” She grabbed her left wrist where she used to wear her string of white beads and rubbed it nervously with her right thumb.

“You were already trapped, Sasaya. But you could have had gold chains instead of lead ones, hm?” Deidara shook his head insistently. “I bet you regret-”

“Yeah, please tell me again about how I fucked up,” Asaya retorted defensively, “I really appreciate it.” She felt her cheeks beginning to heat and puff up. In hindsight, she didn’t know why she tried so hard to go back in the first place.

Biting his tongue, Deidara looked away. “Alright, I’m sorry. Oonoki’s a real bastard, un.”

Taking a deep breath, Asaya told herself it wasn’t worth getting upset over. “Whatever, it’s whatever, I don’t want to talk about it,” she dismissively waived a hand and said, “How have you been, DD? Tell me about your adventures.” She resumed munching her jam and toast.

Deidara’s ears perked up at her use of his old nickname. No one else had ever used it. “Fine, I’ve been fine, yeah. I was in Lightning a while back for a mission. It’s easier for me to get around because I can use my sculptures to fly, so they send me there a lot, hm. And…”

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Part II: Cinnamon Roll

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A few days after Deidara’s visit, Konan came in the mid-morning. She brought with her a small, white pastry box. “Happy birthday,” she said and presented it to Asaya.

“Thank you. How did you know?”

“A little bird told me,” Konan smirked.

“Can I open it?” Asaya asked, taking the pretty little white box wrapped with a cute pink ribbon.

“Of course.”

Asaya pulled the ribbon untied and lifted the lid to find not a piece of cake, but a large, fluffy cinnamon roll coated with white frosting. “Deidara,” Asaya knew instantly. Who else would know it was her birthday and that she preferred cinnamon rolls to cake?

“He might have mentioned it,” the blue-haired woman said taking a seat at the small table in Asaya’s room. It had just enough room for two people to sit comfortably. “You appear to be doing much better physically. I’ve noticed that you’re able to move around the whole building comfortably, stairs and all.”

“Yes, much better. I’m glad you made me see the doctor, after all.” Asaya admitted. She had been so pessimistic it felt silly now.

“So am I.” Konan appeared to pause, as she did whenever she was about to say something important. “Tell me, how would you feel about going on a trip? To somewhere outside of Amegakure.”

“I don’t know. What for?” Asaya immediately became worried and suspicious.

The instinct to ask why instead of where was so very like Asaya, Konan mused. So very like someone who had every reason to question another’s motives. “For your health and wellbeing, actually. We’re going to send you somewhere you can receive better treatment and recover your chakra.”

“Oh,” Asaya replied. She didn’t know how to feel about that. Excited? It’s not like she didn’t want to recover. Happy? But really it just made her anxious.

“Since Amegakure doesn’t have anyone capable of healing you, I’ve found someone in Lightning Country who can,” Konan explained. “I remember you said you thought Lightning was one of the most beautiful places you’ve seen, so I hope you’d like to revisit.”

“It was,” Asaya confirmed, vividly remembering the sunlit clouds drifting between karst mountains of one region and a ghostly redwood forest in another. But still, how-

“But how will you get there?” Konan saw the question on her face.

Asaya nodded.

“You won’t be going alone, of course,” Konan couldn’t completely suppress the knowing tone in her voice.

“Deidara?” Was that why he was here in Ame? Or maybe, “Tobi?” she asked with a wrinkled brow. Then she bristled when Konan maintained the same curious expression. They wouldn’t…?

“No. While Sasori is extremely reliable, Deidara is too impulsive.”

This was not an incorrect statement.

“We cannot trust him with your safety. Not in such a vulnerable state.”

Asaya suppressed a wince.

“And Tobi is a moron. Even if he is a moron who wants to be useful.”

Waiting for her next sentence, Asaya feigned indifference. Which was pointless, because it wasn’t like Konan didn’t know, but still.

“Itachi and Kisame will be back in a few weeks to escort you.”

“I understand.” Now she really didn’t know what to think.

“I know the idea of traveling with them again isn’t appealing,” Konan said for the sake of pretense. She was entirely aware that Asaya had some kind of relationship with Itachi that included sleeping together at least once. “But we really don’t have anyone else suitable to the task. I can’t take you because I am needed here.” Although, it still baffled Konan as to why a perfectly lovely girl like Asaya would be interested in someone as unlikable as Itachi, but at least he treated her well.

“The only other Akatsuki member is Kakuzu, and he’s far too volatile to trust. He’s currently without a partner because he killed them. Again.”

“Deidara mentioned something about that,” Asaya grimaced.

“Good. I’m glad you understand. And I’ve scheduled one more doctor’s appointment for you before you go. To confirm you are in fit condition.”

A thought occurred to Asaya just then. “That would be great. Thank you.” Looking down at her birthday cinnamon roll in its pretty box, Asaya said, “Cinnamon rolls are my favourite, but this one is so big. I couldn’t possibly eat it all before it goes stale. If you’d like, I can make some coffee and we can share.”

“That would be lovely,” Konan said.

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“The fuck do you mean we’re gonna be babysitting that little cunt again?!” Kisame threw a rock at Zetsu.

“I’m sorry,” white Zetsu timidly ducked to the side. “I’m just delivering the message, please don’t be mad at me.”

“If you’re that mad, take it up with Pain. Tell him you refuse.” Black Zetsu said plainly, but it sounded like a dare.

Silently, Itachi watched the exchange with narrow eyes. Every time he thought it would be the last… Was this another joke? It was strange to think about seeing her again having thought he never would. Worse, he thought one day news would reach him that…

“Aarrgh,” Kisame groaned.

“It is not for us to decide our assignments. It is only for us to complete them,” Itachi chided his partner.

“Tch,” Kisame scoffed then muttered something under his breath that Itachi couldn’t hear.

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“I thought I might find you here,” Konan said, standing some meters behind Asaya, who sat cross-legged on the floor of the underground cave in front of the Demonic Statue, right in the spot where she had unsealed it. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Asaya twisted her torso and looked over her shoulder. “I- it’s been a while since I’ve seen this statue. I used to look at it every day.” She hadn’t seen it since the day she unsealed it. The memory of it, of a starving monster clawing at her, reaching for her, mindlessly screaming at her to let it out, still haunted her. An ache still throbbed in her chest sometimes, making her feel breathless and weak. She never thought she would want to see it again.

It was strange to look at now, almost frustrating. The split second it touched her after breaking its seal was the most indescribably painful thing she’d ever experienced, like it was crushing her soul while ripping out her bones. But now it was just the same powerless husk it had been before, just with opened palms and the scroll once gaging its mouth hanging uselessly aside. No immeasurable power, no ceaseless rage, no festering starvation.  Just a ridiculously large, grotesque bust like the first day she laid eyes on it. Almost as if she hadn’t done anything at all. “What do you plan on doing with this thing?” Asaya had never asked Konan before.

“Destroy the world as we know it,” Konan said dryly.

“Isn’t that like cutting off your nose to spite your face?” Asaya asked rhetorically, even though she knew Konan was joking.

“It would be, wouldn’t it?” Konan agreed. “It’s a weapon, and we are a small nation constantly torn apart by larger nations’ wars.  It will be an invaluable deterrent once restored.”

‘Deterrent.’ What a farcical concept. Every nation’s village was a “deterrent,” and wars still happened every decade or so. Besides, even if they restored it, how would they control it? Asaya thought but didn’t ask. It wasn’t her problem to solve. She had learned a lot about the statue while trying to unseal it. Lots of valuable things she would never share with them if she didn’t have to.

Something about Konan’s answer didn’t sit right, though. It was too prepared, too obvious, too convenient.

Asaya stood up and brushed some tiny pebbles and sand from her legs. “It’s time to go, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

Asaya approached the older woman with what must have been an apprehensive look, because Konan asked, “What is it?”

“Can I ask you a weird question?” Asaya asked, glancing at the black piercing on her lower lip.

“Of course.”

“You’re not-” Asaya stumbled over her words, “you’re not really just another one of Pain’s puppets, are you? Just one who’s really articulate.”

Konan chuckled, amused by Asaya’s wild imagination. “No, I’m not. Whatever made you think that?”

“Nothing, just a silly thought.” Asaya was relieved, though. She would have been so upset if Konan turned out not to haven been a real person this entire time.

“Very,” Konan replied. “Anyway, they’re waiting upstairs. I have something for you before you go.” She pulled from her pocket the string of white beads and handed them to Asaya. “I think you’ll be needing these.”

“Thank you,” Asaya took them curiously. She was surprised to find herself conflicted about seeing them again- they were hers, sure, but it wasn’t like she could use them anymore- but she carefully wrapped them back around her left wrist.

“And one more thing,” Konan added, holding up a sprig of small, blue flowers made of folded paper.

“Oh, thank you,” Asaya repeated, but this time the words felt like they tumbled from her mouth. Forget-me-nots, she twirled the dainty flowers between her fingers. It was a thoughtful gift, and Asaya felt embarrassed she didn’t have anything to give Konan in return.

“You’re welcome,” Konan replied, but before she finished the words, Asaya’s arms were wrapped around her.

“Thank you,” Asaya said a third time, her voice trembling, “for everything.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Part III: Air

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

After so many months in Amegakure, Asaya had forgotten what open air felt like: light yet invisible, weightless and intangible.

She had been handed off to Itachi and Kisame once again. Her heart had been pounding so hard when it happened that she couldn’t really hear what anyone had said. Everything was a blur.

The last time she and Itachi together was what she thought would be the last. If she had known they would ever meet again, would she have made the same choice?

Well, yes. She would have. 1,000 times yes. But what of Itachi? It had felt so real in the moment- what they had done, what they had shared. It felt like a completely illogical worry after everything they’d been through. But still, so much time had passed. Itachi had acted so indifferent when Konan transferred her to him, like they were perfect strangers again. She had too, of course. All he’d said to her was an empty “Let’s go,” but she could only look at the floor when he did so.

And now they were here, alone together in a hotel about half a day’s travel out of Amegakure, just like they had been so many times before. Asaya lay exhausted on the white sheets of the twin beds closest to the window, which was new. Itachi had never let her sleep on the bed by the window before.

Itachi hung his cloak on the rack by the door, untied his hitai-ate, placed it on the nightstand, and sat on the twin bed across from her.

“You’re alive,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

“You’re alive,” she echoed. And somehow, whatever had been constricting her heart uncoiled itself and slithered away.

“I’d congratulate you for unsealing the Demonic Statue, but…” he trailed off.

“It’s not really something I want to be congratulated on, no. It’s not a good thing that that thing is unsealed. You know that.”

“The statue in and of itself is not important to me,” Itachi said. Which wasn’t exactly true, but it wasn’t what he cared about right now. When Asaya didn’t elaborate, he prompted her with, “What happened?”

 “I don’t remember most of it,” she answered, “And I’m kind of glad I don’t. There’s something in there, Itachi. Something,” she placed one hand over her sternum in a soothing gesture and her voice became distant, “something horrifying.”

“It must have been, to do this to you,” Itachi consoled her.

“Yeah, well,” Asaya sighed and sat up. “At least I can walk now. You should have been there when I was immobile. It was difficult just to breathe sometimes. I felt like I had polio.”

Itachi couldn’t help but smirk at her dark humor. “Unfortunate that there isn’t a vaccine for ancient malevolent forces. It would have saved us a lot of trouble.”

“You’re terrible,” she mumbled amused. She appreciated his humor, his particular way of making her feel better, as she was tired of feeling nothing but pitiful about it.

More silence.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” she said.

After a subtle delay, he asked, “Are you disappointed?”

“No,” she said confidently. “No, not at all. It’s just that this is kind of awkward, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

Asaya forced her body to stand up and move to sit next to him. She really was exhausted. She’d tried her best to get back into fit condition before leaving Amegakure, but near constant movement for almost the entire day still took its toll on her body. Even if it was just walking.

They sat together in a comfortable silence for a moment until Asaya sighed deeply and said, “Itachi, there’s something I have to tell you.” She nervously clasped her hands together.

A sense of unease filled the air. Itachi straightened his back and raised a brow.

Asaya bit her lower lip, holding her breath for a moment before finally whispering, “I’m pregnant.”

Itachi froze, then his whole body trembled after he processed her words. He remembered… How could he have been so reckless? He should have confirmed that she’d been on birth control before- Or he should have said no since he didn’t have a-

Wait.

If she really were pregnant, he would have noticed a lot sooner than just now.

“Ch-,” Asaya covered her mouth and snickered. Her eyes smiled and she shook her head. “You should have seen the look on your face,” she squeaked, clearly amused with herself.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he said, taking a deep breath and carding a hand through his hair.

“Ok, ok, I promise I won’t. But you have to admit it was funny.” Her eyes began to tear up.

Itachi was certain she had thought of teasing him like this for a while because she was so self-satisfied. He was entirely unimpressed, but a small part of him had to concede he would smile about it later. He leaned his elbows on his thighs and clasped his hands together. “Were you on birth control?” he asked.

“To be honest,” Asaya’s sheepish glance away told him everything, “I wasn’t.” She knew without looking that he was unhappy with her answer. “But I knew my period was coming in a day or two, and it did, not that that’s an excuse. Itachi, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“It’s alright,” he said. I should have been more responsible, too.”

“For what it’s worth, though,” Asaya adjusted her seat just a little, pulled her hair over one shoulder, and said, “I have since gotten an IUD.”

Itachi unexpectedly stilled at her words.

“Would you not have me again?” Asaya asked with a sly half-smile.

“Of course.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Part I
Remembrance
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Asaya straddled Itachi’s lap where he sat perched on the edge of the bed. She arched her chest into his while he gripped her waist, pulling her down to press her against his hardened length. He wanted to make her feel his need between their bodies. Draping her arms around his shoulders, she kissed him slowly, savoring the feel of his tongue gliding along hers.

They had done this, in one way or another, every night since they were reunited. Every night they had the privacy of a hotel room, anyway. After a long day of travel, they would shower or bathe, sometimes together, and then forgo putting their clothes back on to lay in bed with one another. However, they still ordered a room with two beds for the sake of appearances. Sometimes they had to squeeze together to fit on one twin bed and sometimes they were able to fit snugly on a full-sized mattress. Either way, they were happy to be tangled in each other’s limbs.

Asaya broke away from Itachi’s lips, placed a few light kisses just below his jaw, then whispered something in his ear.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he assured her.

Flushed, she insisted, “I want to.” Bringing her lips back to his neck, she kissed her way from his collarbone, to his chest, and down his abdomen where she settled herself between his thighs.

Delicately, she took hold of his erection and gave it a few slow strokes while she watched a glassy bead of precum form. Asaya studied it for a moment in mixed fascination and intimidation before opening her mouth and using her little, pink tongue to lick it.

Itachi twitched in her hand, the sensation of her wet tongue rolling over his swollen nerves causing him to rock his hips ever so slightly.

Asaya pulled away and swirled her tongue in her mouth. It was endearing, Itachi found, to watch her try and figure out what she thought of the way he tasted, of a new sensation.

Another bead formed, and she placed one hand on his inner thigh with a gentle grip. Rosy, kiss-swollen lips parted again to take his entire head into her mouth. She experimented with her tongue and lips suckling and undulating around his sensitive bundle of nerves while her hand continued to pump up and down his length.

“Mmn,” a sweet moan escaped Itachi’s throat. One hand grasped desperately at the air only to ball into an empty fist. “Can I…?” he uttered to her.

Asaya paused and looked up at him while his erection remained between her lips. She gave a small, affirmative nod, giving Itachi permission to weave his fingers into her hair

Gradually, Asaya worked more and more of his length into her mouth, testing herself to see how much of him she could take. Itachi’s breath turned to ragged gasps, his abdominal and thigh muscles clenched and squirmed as a heat stoked within his body. Asaya was able to swallow just over half his length.

“There…!” Itachi gasped as her tongue flicked just the right spot on the underside of his tip. He momentarily shut his eyes, and the soft sounds of her mouth working him sent tiny electric currents through his ears and down his neck.

Enthralled by the reactions she could elicit from him, Asaya felt her vulva swell and repeatedly constrict around its own emptiness in both satisfaction and need. She gripped his thigh tighter to help control his involuntary rocking into her throat while she synced with his rhythm of his body.

Itachi intertwined his fingers with her loose strands of hair, careful not to pull even though he needed something to keep him tethered. “Asa-” he cried while every muscle pulled tight and Asaya felt his length pulsing on her tongue as he came into her mouth.

As his body relaxed, Asaya carefully pulled back and licked away the last of his cum before it dripped down his softening shaft. Still kneeling between his legs, she daintily covered her mouth with her fingers. Her widened eyes told him she wasn’t sure what to do, but after a moment of deliberation, she swallowed. Itachi’s breath hitched when her neck rippled and his ejaculate ran down her throat.

“What a vision you are,” Itachi panted.

Asaya immediately blushed and looked away. “I, well…” she whispered something incoherent.

“It’s true.” Her eyes met his again.

Itachi knew that compliments, especially ones to her appearance, made her shy, that she had a difficult time accepting them. But her blush and the smile she suppressed told him that she did like this one.

Asaya leaned forward and tenderly kissed just above his now flaccid anatomy. She climbed back up his body and laid him back down on the mattress with a hand on his sternum and admired his form beneath her. She had, over the past weeks, quickly found that she liked being forward in her affections toward Itachi, liked showing him how much she desired him, liked returning the same pleasure he gave her. Itachi was happy to find he liked it too.

Bending down over him, she brought her forehead to rest in between his neck and shoulder. Itachi ran his hands over her back. Tracing over the muscles along her spine, this wasn’t the first time he felt the change in her body’s musculature. After many weeks- possibly months- near idleness had atrophied her muscles and softened her body. He liked the softness, sure, but he did not like what the absence meant.

Asaya felt Itachi bring one hand between her thighs to feel her swollen clitoris, as if to say, Your turn.

“Itachi,” she breathed onto his skin.

“Yeah?”

“It’s alright,” she nuzzled him. “I’m happy like this.”

“Of course,” Itachi kissed her temple.

They stayed still like that until their bodies cooled down, at which point Itachi pulled her under the covers with him.

That night, like so many nights recently, they slept cradled in each other’s arms.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The delicate tweeting of songbirds perched on the branches of a plum tree in full bloom entered through the window of their hotel room. Itachi inhaled the scent of Asaya’s hair, which was just the smell of the complementary shampoo and conditioner provided by the establishment that he had also used, but it was nice anyway.

“Good morning,” Asaya yawned.

“Morning,” Itachi said, rubbing his thumb over her bare hip.

There was no need to hurry and get dressed since it was so early and they didn’t depart as soon as possible anymore. Asaya was still regaining her strength.

“A hill I used to walk by on the way to the training grounds was entirely covered in plum trees,” Itachi reminisced while looking at the airy, white blossoms on a branch just outside the window. “They would bloom first in the early spring when all the other trees were still bare, and it looked like the hill had suddenly been covered in snow again.”

Asaya hummed warmly, “Sounds beautiful.”

“Yeah,” he kissed the back of her shoulder.

“Was that,” she asked, still half dreaming, “where you met Shisui?”

A moment passed before Itachi recognized the name. Not because he had forgotten it, but because he never expected to hear it spoken aloud again. He had forgotten he’d told it to her.

“It was,” Itachi said quietly then wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

Asaya could not be entirely certain what had elicited Itachi’s peculiar reaction, what memories he was recollecting, but she knew what it meant when she felt his heart skip, so she placed one hand over his where it tucked around her and held.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Part II
Recurring Event
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Horiuchi City in Lightning Country’s south-central region was built along the terraced faces of a grand canyon that stretched miles long and stories high with a broad river at the bottom. Multiple stories stacked on top of one another were built and carved into the face of the rock with sweeping wooden platforms forming walkways that traveled the entire distance of the city. A broad river flowed beneath where ships would carry supplies up and down and across while an elaborate system of pullies installed at regular intervals moved the goods to each level. It was a brilliant system. The stairs were still hell, though.

Asaya looked across the canyon to the opposite face of the vertical city, down countless levels of housing and other buildings down at the deep blue river flowing below. Then, she looked up at the floor of the level above her. Each walkway acted as an awning for the floor beneath it, blocking the sun’s rays, which, combined with the otherwise open space allowing free airflow, kept the temperature and humidity comfortable.

Stepping out of the way for a man carrying a large vase, Asaya briefly ducked behind Itachi. He watched her over his shoulder as she did so. Whatever the Demonic Statue had done to her had decimated her flow of chakra, which prevented him from being able to easily locate her with his Sharingan. He was reluctant to let her directly out of sight.

“So how do we find this person again?” Kisame asked.

“We don’t. They are supposed to find us,” Itachi answered.

“Great.”

Asaya momentarily tripped on an old, warped plank that gave in under her weight.

“So we just what? Conspicuously walk around until they find us?”

“Yes.”

Well, it’s not like the cloaks are difficult to pick out in a crowd, Asaya thought.

A cry of surprise rang out from the crowd around them, and a crowd of people formed at the railing. Curious, Asaya walked toward the crowd and, with the advantage of her small frame, was able to maneuver her way to the front of the railing.

Dolphins?

A pod of river dolphins swam and splashed playfully in the center of the river, their white bodies shining against the deep blue water when they jumped into the air.

Eager to see the spectacle, the growing crowd pressed against Asaya’s back, forcing her to brace both hands against the splintered railing.

Itachi halted as soon as he noticed Asaya had walked away. He saw her disappear into the crowd and paused before taking one step forward. “Kisame, wait,” he ordered, and the swordsman stopped.

“What is it?” he asked, but quickly saw that the girl had walked off again. “Tch.”

A wooden crack and then a thud was heard, like something heavy had fallen. A sudden gasp rang out through the crowd. And then a few seconds later, a distant splash echoed in the following silence. When the crowd shuffled back, Itachi could see half of a broken piece of railing.

Itachi immediately scanned the people around him, but he could not locate Asaya. He stepped through the gap in the crowd to look over the broken railing to see the last of an impact ripple dissipate and the plank of broken railing bobbing on the surface.

“That girl just fell,” he heard a bystander mutter. “Gosh, I hope she’s alright.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Asaya sharply inhaled just after the wooden plank she braced against suddenly cracked in two and she immediately tumbled over the edge of the terrace walkway. Her back smacked into the rail of the level immediately below, forcing the air back out of her lungs. Although she was no longer physically fit, Asaya was able to reach out an arm and catch herself on the ledge of the second to bottom walkway. She thanked the instincts drilled into her after a lifetime of training, but her weakened arms struggled to keep hold, unable to pull her full body weight up. Instead, she swung her legs and used the momentum to hurl herself onto the walkway below.

“Ow!” someone yelped when she crashed into them. They slammed into the floor together.

The person quickly pushed themselves up. “Damm, you ok?” They asked when they saw Asaya laying flat on her face. They placed a hand on her back only to immediately recoil it as if they’d placed it on a hot stove. Cautiously, they placed it on her back again.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Asaya propped herself up onto her elbows. “Thanks.”

“Here, let me help you up.” They grabbed Asaya’s forearm and hoisted her onto her feet.

Asaya smoothed out her clothing, trying to ignore the surprised looks of the people around her. “Thanks,” she repeated. “Sorry to crash into you like that.” At first assessment, the stranger was a woman in her early forties more than a full head taller than Asaya – although most people were taller- with broad, muscular shoulders. Her white hair was short clipped on her temples, but otherwise braided into a bun, which contrasted against her dark skin.

“No worries, I’ll be fine. You, however, what happened to you?” The woman asked. Asaya noticed she wore a slightly oversized box-sleeve shirt and straight-cut, cotton pants which were tucked in to heavy boots. A wide leather belt kept their undershirt and pants tucked in place. Asaya was a bit embarrassed to admit that if she weren’t up close, she would not have thought this person was a woman.

“Oh, I was leaning on the railing on one of the top levels and it broke and I fell over. I caught myself on the ledge above just before falling into the water-” Asaya pointed to said spot on the ledge of the platform above them- “and swung into you instead. Again, I’m so sorry about that,” Asaya explained. She tried to bow politely, but her back hurt from smacking into whatever she had hit on the way down, causing her to wince sharply.

“Like I said, I’ll be fine, but you’ve done some real damage to yourself,” she said with a hint more gravity than Asaya thought the situation called for.

“I just hit my back on the way down. I’ll just be sore for a while, is all. Thank you for your concern, though,” Asaya said.

“No really, you should rest for a while. There’s a tea house right over there,” she pointed with her thumb, “I’ll sit with you until you’re ok.”

“Thanks, but I don’t mean to take your time,” Asaya said.

“Come on,” she ushered Asaya towards the tea house with a gentle assertiveness and a hand on her shoulder. “If you pass out after I walk away, we’re both going to regret it.”

Asaya already planned to stay in the area since Itachi would come to find her, so sitting at a nearby tea house where she could be seen in the window wasn’t a bad idea. She just wasn’t so sure about sitting with a complete stranger, even if they appeared to have the best of intentions. Or rather, being found sitting with a complete stranger.

Asaya attempted to pay the bill, but she was swiftly overruled by the older woman. “Take a seat,” she said with a tone that made Asaya instinctively respond with “Yes, ma’am.”

The woman handed Asaya a cup of jasmine tea and sat across from her at the small, two-person table in front of the tea house’s large window where they could easily be seen.

“My name is Karura, by the way. Nice to meet you. And you are?” she asked with falling intonation.

“Call me ‘Tomoyo,’” Asaya said. “Nice to meet you, too. Thank you for the tea.”

“You’re welcome. So, Tomoyo, what brings you to town?” Karura asked leaning one elbow on the table. It was already small, but her muscular forearm made it seem even smaller.

Asaya paused while trying to think of something. Not that she assumed the worst of this person, but she knew from personal experience that being “from out of town” made her a target for certain kinds of people.

Karura chuckled, her voice naturally deep and low. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to rob you. But you’re not from around here.”

“Am I that conspicuous?” Even in her weakened state, Asaya could defend herself against any non-shinobi. And quite a few regular shinobi if necessary. She wasn’t so much worried about a fight, but still. She did not like standing out.

“Only because of your accent. And your clothes. But it is not a bad thing. This is a port city; people come from all over.”

And Asaya thought she looked average enough to blend in almost anywhere. But maybe that was only because her traveling companions wore such ostentatious uniforms by comparison.

“I’m here with my brother,” she said, “and his friend.” In hindsight, they should have come up with a cover story in the event she was separated from Itachi. The irony of this situation was not lost on her. “I was with him before I fell over the edge of the platform.”

Karura waived a hand. “Then it is good we are sitting here. He will come looking for you.”

“Yeah…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

When Itachi and Kisame arrived at the bottom walkway level with the river, Asaya was nowhere to be seen. She was not in the river, which was a relief because Itachi’s immediate fear was that she had fallen unconscious, inhaled water, and drown. But there wasn’t a puddle where she would have pulled herself up anywhere along the ledge. No one appeared to have pulled her onto the platform, either. Strange, because she couldn’t possibly have used chakra to walk or otherwise hover atop the water without getting wet because she couldn’t use her chakra anymore.

They searched the immediate are to no avail, walking up and down the street multiple times searching every face for hers. They asked bystanders, but anyone who had been there when she fell must have moved on before they arrived.

“Girl’s more trouble than she’s worth,” Kisame complained, clearly resentful. “Just falling off the railing like that. Pathetic.”

Itachi said nothing, just kept his eyes scanning the crowd as he paced back and forth along the river. She wouldn’t have just walked away, would she?

The river’s surface sparkled under the sun like nothing had happened.

─── ⋆⋅ ☆⋅⋆ ───

Asaya knew it wouldn’t take long for Itachi to find her. She was just straight down and sitting right across from where she fell. Right up against a window in plain view. All she had to do was wait.

In the interim, though, she had a polite conversation with Karura in which she made sure to discuss entirely impersonal things, like preferences in tea, which led to a conversation about plants, specifically ones historically used in medicinal applications. Like willow bark for mild pain relief because it contains salicin, a compound similar to aspirin. Asaya did not know much about horticulture, but history was something she knew a great deal of.

Mid-sentence, Asaya saw the unmistakable black and red in her peripheral vision and she turned her head to look out the window. There Itachi was, just on the other side of the walkway looking for her. Asaya raised one hand level with her shoulder and waived to catch Itachi’s attention, but his head simply turned as if she weren’t there. Asaya furrowed her brows.

Karura followed her gaze to see what she was looking at. After a moment of holding a curiously raised brow, she asked, “Is that your brother?”

“Um, yeah,” Asaya admitted, watching Karura’s expression subtly recalibrate. Her stomach sank a little knowing what it meant. The Akatsuki cloak wasn’t exactly subtle.

She waived again when she saw Itachi coming towards her scanning the crowd for her face, but he just walked right past. Asaya’s jaw slackened. She was sitting right here. In front of the window. In plain view. She turned both palms up in a confused gesture and mouthed, I’m right here.

Karura chuckled at Asaya’s antics, “It seems he didn’t see you.”

Didn’t he have Sharingan? What exactly was it good for, again? Some kind of visual prowess, or something? “I guess not.”

“Are you going to go after him?”

Asaya placed her chin in her palm and leaned her elbow on the table and mischievously said, “You know, I think I’m going to see how long it takes him to notice I’m here.”

Karura leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Shall we make a bet of it?”

“Alright,” Asaya said. “I’ll bet five minutes.”

“Ten,” Karura said with a slight lift of her chin.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Itachi had searched the walkway in each direction, going slightly farther each time thinking he might just not have gone far enough the last time. Nearly defeated, he came back to the location where she had first hit the water. Enough time had passed that the sun had moved across the sky behind the opposite side of the canyon city. It wouldn’t set for an hour or so more, but the shift in its position allowed him to look into the water’s depths without glare limiting his view to the otherwise translucent surface.

A new thought suddenly occurred to him- could she have been pulled under by a current? Air cut against his teeth as he sharply inhaled. He should have thought of it sooner, should have thought of it immediately. He should have sent Kisame under water to search for her. All he would find by now would be her drown corpse.

Itachi spun around. “Kisame,” he called his partner more urgently than he meant to. “I need you to-“

Asaya.

There in the window of the tea shop directly across sat Asaya with her arms folded neatly on a small table and the most impish, self-satisfied smile he had ever seen.

She lifted one hand to wave gracefully at him like a princess appearing before her subjects.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Asaya’s smug amusement grew each time Itachi passed the tea shop. This was the fourth time he’d walked right by completely oblivious. She had even seen him stop and talk to bystanders, presumably asking if they had seen her.

This time, however, he simply returned to the spot where she would have landed in the water and gave it one of his hard, pensive stares.

“Do you think we should take pity on him and tell him you are here?” Karura asked, glancing at the watch on her wrist. “He has been pacing like an animal for twenty minutes.” Itachi had blown so far through both their bets that they had called it off.

As much as she enjoyed the entertainment at his expense, it wasn’t fair to drag it on endlessly. He’d start to genuinely worry about her safety. “Yeah, he’s suffered enough.” She imagined how he’d react if she walked up behind him and tapped on his shoulder.

Asaya was about to stand up when Itachi turned around to speak to Kisame who stood behind him. In the middle of a sentence, Itachi’s eyes suddenly focused on hers. She lifted one hand to innocently waive, You found me.

The next thing she knew, the tea shop’s door chimed open and Itachi was standing at the table where she and Karura sat. Itachi said nothing, but his eyes told her everything.

“I have been sitting here this entire time, I swear.” Asaya said, containing her amusement as best she could.

Itachi’s brow subtly pinched the way it always did when he was irritatingly perplexed by something. “Glare,” he stated. “The glare on the window obstructed you from view.”

Asaya bit her lip. That didn’t make it any less funny.

Itachi chose not to respond, and instead shifted his focus to the person sitting at the same table as Asaya.

“I take it you are her brother?” Karura addressed Itachi, who was clearly assessing her.

“Yes,” he answered. “And you are?” He did not like the way this stranger acted. Just a bit too curiously, knowingly.

“This is Karura,” Asaya cut in. “She was here when I fell and has very kindly stayed to make sure I was ok while I waited for you.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Karura said. “You must be the Akatsuki.”

Itachi’s eyes narrowed. Asaya’s widened.

“I was told I would be able to identify you by your black and red cloaks,” she said. “I am Karura, one of the two healers you came to this city for. And you are?”

“Uchiha Itachi,” he said slowly while Kisame appeared behind him having seen and heard the exchange.

“Excellent. Now that we are all in one place, shall we talk business?” She crossed one leg over the other and leaned back, extending an arm to hook around the back of her chair. “I can tell that your friend has suffered considerable damage.”

Asaya thought back to when she crash landed into Karura. When Karura put her hand on her back, she must have felt something was gravely wrong with her chakra. That must have been why she insisted on sitting with Asaya until Itachi arrived.

Asaya’s shoulders fell and she balled both hands in her lap. Normally, she would have been able to tell that someone had been sensing her chakra like that, or detect that someone had a finely-tuned chakra network themselves, but she couldn’t feel anything anymore. Which made her helpless and vulnerable.

“Very well, then,” Itachi said. “Let’s discuss.”

PART I: THE BEGINNING OF THE END

Sasuke walked towards the Tsuchikage tower with the same indifference he did everything else. This was just another stupid task Kakashi gave him even though there were a hundred other shinobi who could have done it. But no, Sasuke had to go in this pageboy errand. He’d do it and be on his way out of this damned country as soon as possible. Sasuke rolled his eyes as he walked up the giant, stone staircase to the entrance. And then maybe the visions would stop, too.

“Ah!” He heard a woman’s yelp behind him, quickly followed by another woman’s startled, “Oh my gosh, are you okay?”

Sasuke looked back over his shoulder to see the back of a short woman with ashy, light brown hair clutching the iron railing. Her friend, a taller woman with black hair, reached out to steady her. The first woman had tripped and, luckily, caught herself on the rail before tumbling down the stairs. “Yeah, I’m fine…” he heard her say. Sasuke walked into the Tsuchikage tower like nothing had happened.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I was thinking blue irises. You know, the big ruffly kind. Or purple dahlias. Something bold and delicate at the same time,” said Mei from the desk across from Asaya’s in their shared office. “I don’t want to be super traditional, but I can’t be too avantgarde, either. I don’t want to look at our wedding pictures ten years from now and wonder what I was thinking.” At the age of twenty-five, Mei was considered an older bachelorette. By Iwa’s status quo, women still unmarried after age twenty-five were considered leftovers. Women unmarried past thirty were damaged goods. Asaya was older than twenty-five.

Mei’s fiancée was older for a shinobi bachelor, too, but men could wait until age thirty to find a wife, and even then it was merely unusual- a matter of choice or circumstance, not personal failing. Especially if they had a demanding job.

“I think both are lovely choices, Mei,” Asaya said. She wouldn’t truly call herself friends with Mei, but they had formed a good relationship over the past few years in which they had shared an office in the archives and records department in the Tsuchikage tower. Asaya had even been the one to first introduce Mei to her fiancée. “Personally, I like blue irises. They look lacy and elegant.”

Aasaya first met Mei a couple years ago when the former was assigned to cover the essential duties of a vacant part time position. Originally, Asaya had only been meant to fill in temporarily, but she had been able to do it in addition to her primary job just fine so the administration never prioritized filling the vacancy. The arrangement had been extended to an indefinite “until further notice.” And so, the two women shared an office for one or two days a week. They had become good work friends. On Fridays, they liked to go out for lunch.

“And I’ve been putting off figuring out the seating arrangements. We’re inviting our entire families, that’s like two hundred people plus guests. And do you know how petty these people are?” Mei said exasperated. “Half will take offence if they’re seated with the wrong person, and the other half will scoff if they aren’t seated in the right location. I can’t win!”

Asaya knew exactly how petty ‘these people’ were.

“Ugh, I just want the wedding over with so we can go on our honeymoon and not have to think about all of this.” Mei slumped forward onto her elbows.

“I understand. Just pick your flowers and dress and have the wedding planners take care of the rest. Your families hired them for a reason. I don’t know why you’re stressing yourself out,” Asaya offered.

“Because they don’t know what everyone’s going to think like I do.”

“They’re professionals. No offence, but they’ve done higher profile weddings than yours. I think they know what they’re doing. You hired them to make your life easier, now just sit back and relax.”

Mei pursed her lips.

“You should be enjoying yourself, Mei. You’re going to regret it if you don’t,” Asaya said.

“I’ll try,” Mei relented. “But do you really think he’ll like the flowers and dress? If I ask him, he’ll just agree with whatever I want to make me happy, but it’s his wedding too, so I really want him to be happy with everything.”

“Tetsuya is happy with when you’re happy. Just because he says he likes something just because you do doesn’t mean he isn’t being honest. Superficial things like décor aren’t that important to him, anyway. Just ask him.”

Mei sighed, “Alright, fine. I know I’ve asked you before, but I really wish you’d come. You’re the reason we met in the first place.”

Asaya had introduced Mei and Tetsuya almost two years ago, shortly after the two women had begun sharing an office. After getting to know Mei, Asaya suspected she would be a match for Tetsuya, who was still single and having a difficult time finding someone because of his position at the imperial palace. With some help from Tsuta, she had been able to arrange a few social gatherings and events where it would be convenient for them to casually meet one another. It was her full intention to set them up, but she pretended as if it weren’t. Soon enough, the two announced their engagement.

“I-“ Asaya found it difficult to come up with an acceptable reason not to attend. “I know it’s important to you, and I’m verry sorry, but I can’t. I don’t want to cause problems.” Mei knew that Asaya had once turned down Tetsuya’s proposal and had never had any problems with it. It was in the past and they’d gotten over it, but Tetsuya’s family still gave her the cold shoulder sometimes.

“I understand,” Mei said sympathetically.

And, while it was entirely petty of Asaya- nor did it make logical sense since she’d intentionally set them up- the idea of watching someone else get the exact happy ending she could have had was a little too painful.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry. How about lunch?” Asaya stood up and grabbed her purse off the coatrack.

They walked out of the front entrance of the Tsuchikage tower and trekked down the large, stone stairs. They continued to chat frivolously, when halfway down the stairs Asaya saw a raven-haired figure cloaked entirely in black standing in stark contrast to the light granite. Initially, she only noticed the color and style of his attire; he was clearly a traveler from somewhere else. As he ascended the stairs, though, she saw his face in horrifyingly clearer and clearer detail, until the sound of Mei’s voice disappeared from her perception as he passed her by.

Asaya’s miss-stepped and her ankle gave out, causing her to yelp. She quickly caught herself on the railing before she fell down the stairs.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” Mei reached out to help Asaya steady herself.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Asaya said while rotating her ankle to make sure it wasn’t injured. “Just tripped.”

Mei examined Asaya with concern, noting her wide, unfocused eyes. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she remarked.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” Asaya assured her then hurried down the steps.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

An intercom buzzed. “An Uchiha Sasuke from Knohagakure is here to deliver correspondence from the Hokage, sir,” the secretary said into a microphone from her desk adjacent to the large, green double doors of the Tsuchikage’s office.

The speaker answered back with a staticky, “What was that?”

“A Knohagakure shinobi is here to deliver correspondence from the Hokage, sir.”

A brief pause, followed by, “What?”

“The Hokage sent a messenger, sir.”

“Well then send them in,” the Tsuchikage ordered.

“Yes, sir,” the secretary said, her attitude giving Sasuke the impression that repeating herself for a minimum of three times was a requirement of her job she had resigned to. “The Tsuchikage will see you now,” she told Sasuke with a gesture towards the doors.

“Hello,” Sasuke said to the old man sitting behind the mahogany desk.

The old man grumbled and squinted. Like many elderly superiors, he was not impressed with Sasuke’s informal greeting. He seemed to take a moment to remember who Sasuke was. “I forgot how tall you had grown.” There was a clearly unstated ‘brat’ dangling at the end of the sentence.

Sasuke remained unphased, “I have a message from the Hokage for you about the incidents on the southwestern border…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Have you heard any news from Tsuta lately?” Mei asked Asaya while the two sat outdoors at their regular lunch spot enjoying the lovely late-summer weather.

Asaya lowered her salad fork. “I got a letter about a week ago. He’ll be returning for break at the end of the month. He’ll graduate at the end of the year.”

“Wow, has it been that long already? How amazing to graduate from the Imperial Academy of Music. I remember he was so super talented,” Mei said. “Does he have a job lined up with the imperial family?”

In a few of his previous letters, Tsuta had expressed annoyance that everyone immediately jumped from congratulating him to asking whether or not he had a job after graduation. ‘They ask if I have a job, if I’m dating anyone, or what my housing situation is like it’s a rubric I’m being graded against. But no one ever just asks if I’m happy,’ he had written.

Specifically, they cared that he was employed with the imperial family because the idea of a member of the Tsuchikage’s family doing anything else was simply unthinkable. He knew that it was the way the world worked and there was nothing he could do about it, but it still made him angry.

“Actually, he wanted to go into producing pop music.”

Mei tilted her head with arched eyebrows like a curious puppy.

“Yeah, I was surprised, too. But he’s always been creative; it suits him better,” Asaya said. “The government is making a concerted effort to expand the entertainment industry, especially internationally. Apparently, it’s more lucrative than manufacturing and engineering-” or the military industrial complex, but she wasn’t about to say that out loud- “so there’s a lot of demand for new talent.”

 “That’s brave and exciting. Maybe we’ll hear his songs on the radio.” Mei said and sipped the last quarter of her drink.

“I think so. But anyway, let’s get the check; I have a meeting this afternoon.” Asaya waived for a waiter.

PART II: GHOST

“I see,” said Oonoki gravely. “I’ll have to follow up on this and then see what the best course of action is from there. I might even need to discuss it with the Hokage myself.”

Sasuke used every ounce of his self-control to withhold a beleaguered groan. He’d just spent the last half hour talking in circles with this old man only to have him land on the original proposition: that Iwa launch an initial investigation into the situation and then follow up with Konoha after they’ve gathered their own information. “Understood. We are looking forward to it.” Fuck, Sasuke hated relaying and mediating correspondence with any level of administrator. Kakashi better not send him to follow up on this.

The incoming message light on the Tsuchikage’s intercom unit turned on, and he pressed the speak button. “What is it?” he said loudly into the mic.

“- with the report you ordered,” was all that was heard because the Tsuchikage didn’t take his finger off the speak button quickly enough.

“What?” He repeated into the mic.

This time, the secretary waited a few seconds longer before speaking. “Kagami Asaya is here with the report you ordered, sir.”

“Ah, good, I just finished my meeting. Send her in.” The Tsuchikage looked at Sasuke and said, “Thank you for coming today, you’re dismissed.” as if he were an Iwa subordinate and not a shinobi from a different village.

Sasuke brushed it aside and got up to leave and the double doors opened as the next visitor walked in.

Her.

For a moment, Sasuke thought he must be dreaming again. She looked exactly like the woman in his dreams: ashy, light brown hair; round, hazel-brown eyes; and even long string of beads around her left wrist.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the woman greeted the Tsuchikage.

Sasuke couldn’t believe he heard her voice because he was so used to silence whenever she appeared to speak.

She glanced at him then, briefly in polite acknowledgement of his presence, then staggered another, her face softening with an unmistakable spark of recognition.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Sasuke seized the moment to ask her.

She looked startled and took a moment to respond, quietly assessing him while she thought carefully. “No, I don’t think so.”

Sasuke narrowed his eyes, “Are you sure? You look familiar.”

“I’m sorry, but we’ve never met.” She turned to the Tsuchikage and said, “I have the report you wanted, sir. Shall I begin?”

“Yes, yes, Asaya,” the Tsuchikage answered, “Come sit down.”

Although Sasuke wanted to speak to the woman, he knew he couldn’t. He walked out of the office without replying “Good afternoon” to the secretary. What did they call her, Sasuke thought while walking down the hallways. Asaya, what a weird name. She definitely knew who he was. She had recognized him- there was no doubting it. So why didn’t he have any idea who she was?

Something wet touched the corner of his mouth, and a salt-sweetness spread across his tongue. Tears fell from his eyes, unexpected and strange, and a ghost-like sorrow came with them. One that felt like it didn’t really belong to him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was good that it was the weekend and Asaya did not have to go to work today, because she woke with puffy, red eyes from the night before.

She had seen Sasuke’s pictures circulating in wanted posters in the period before and during the war, shortly after… She never thought she’d see him in reality. He looked so much like his brother; it was like looking at a mimeograph.

‘Do I know you from somewhere?’ His question unnerved her. ‘You look familiar.’ He had said it with such confidence, as if he’d seen her a hundred times before.

In a verdant field, she sits close beside him, so close their bodies all but touch. The liminal sun just below the horizon glazes the world around them in a soft, cool blue. They are speaking with one another, but about what he cannot hear. Not even now that he knows her voice.

She blushes warmly, seemingly at something he said, and to his eyes she takes on a pale glow of her own. “Do you-” she appears to say before biting the tip of her tongue on the next word and glancing away.

He gently brushes her hair aside, and in doing so a silver ring flashes scarlet. He tenderly kisses the center of her forehead, and she returns a gaze filled with nothing but the most bittersweet affection.

Sasuke woke up in his bed, his wife Sakura peacefully sleeping next to him.

“Mmn, what’s wrong?” Sakura mumbled beside him, barely awake herself.

“Nothing. I just woke up,” he whispered to her, “Go back to sleep,”

“Too late now, I’m already awake,” she sighed with half-closed eyes. She reached one arm across his bare shoulders.

Sasuke turned his head to look at his wife, her head only inches away from his on a pillow. He was not home often, so he treasured moments like this. His pride would never permit him to say it aloud, but he regretted how much time he spent away from Sakura. He tried, in what limited way he knew how, to make it up to her when he was home.

This, the first night he’d slept at home since that visit to Iwagakure, was also the first he’d seen that woman again. He was both relieved and surprised it wasn’t sexual this time.

Shu, he had read. He remembered that red ring, and the appearance of it in his dream disturbed him. The kiss to the center of her forehead replayed in his mind’s eye over and over again. The way she had looked at him with an intimacy he had only ever experienced with Sakura… What was she on the verge of saying? Did he even want to know?

“What are you thinking?” she asked, squeezing his shoulder.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“I had a weird dream where I read some weird characters that didn’t make any sense, so I’m trying to figure it out and bothering me.” A half-truth was better than a lie.

“That’s because you can’t actually read when you’re dreaming. The part of your brain that processes written language isn’t active while you’re asleep. Even if you see something that’s supposed to be text, you still can’t read it. That’s why it didn’t make any sense,” she explained, mistakenly thinking it would console him.

“What?” He had seen each stroke of the kanji as perfectly as if it were printed on paper in front of him now.

“Yup, you can’t read while you’re dreaming. Or write. Trust me; I’m a doctor.”

He must be hallucinating. “Sakura,” he called her name quietly.

“Yeah?” she lightly squeezed his shoulder like she always did when she wanted to let him know she was in a particular mood.

“Do you know a woman in Iwa? Like a kunoichi,” he asked, “one I might have met one time.” Asking was his last resort.

Her face scrunched. “What kind of question is that?”

“I don’t mean it like that. It’s just when I was in Iwa, I met someone I recognized, but couldn’t place her. I thought it might be someone you knew.”

“Maybe. What was her name?”

“Asaya something.” Sasuke didn’t remember her surname.

“Nope. Don’t know anyone with that name,” Sakura sighed. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t think so.” Sasuke shook his head.

“So,” she said with a cat-like smile.

“So what?”

“Tell me about this mystery woman.” She playfully ran her hand down his abdomen. “Was she in your dream, too?”

“Stop. You know it’s not like that,” Sasuke protested, but didn’t deny it. He knew Sakura would tease him. That’s why he never told anyone before.

“Sure,” her voice carried a suggestive lilt.

Sasuke turned over in bed to run his hand down her waist and grab the naked flesh of her hip. “Stop it,” he silenced her with a kiss.

PART I: FANTASTIQUE

Noun. A genre and mode of literature and film characterized by the intrusion of the supernatural into an otherwise realistic narrative framework wherein the supernatural includes a level of uncertainty or ambiguity about the truth of its existence.

“Ah, Sasuke, nice to see you again,” Kakashi said from the Hokage’s desk in the Hokage tower because Kakashi was, in fact, the Hokage. The sixth Hokage, to be precise.

“Hey, Kakashi,” Sasuke said. He would never change his manners. Formalities were a waste of time.

Kakashi was, after so many years of knowing his former student, completely unbothered by it. “I’ll cut to the chase; I need to ask you to follow up with the Tsuchikage about the border investigations.”

“Well, damn.” This was exactly what Sasuke was hoping would happen, although it probably shouldn’t have been.

“I know you hated going last time, but I can’t trust anyone else with it. It’s too confidential, too risky,” Kakashi said gravely.

“Sure,” Sasuke shrugged nonchalant.

Kakashi continued as if he hadn’t heard Sasuke’s answer, “I know the Tsuchikage is difficult, but I really, really need someone I can- Wait, you’ll do it?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it.”

Kakshi squinted skeptically at him, as if to say, ‘who are you and what have you done with the real Sasuke?’ “All right then,” Kakshi pulled out a small, black lacquerware box with an intricate seal painted in gold and set it on his desk. “This is the latest development on our end. I need you to bring it to the Tsuchikage and then bring whatever intel he has to share back to me.”

A delivery. Always a delivery. “Got it.” Sasuke picked up the box and tucked it into his cloak. “I’ll get it there, no problem.”

“Great,” Kakashi leaned on his elbows and added, “I’ll need you to depart immediately, though. Time is of the essence.”

“Is it going to explode or is someone going to die if it doesn’t get there fast enough?”

“Well, no. But they are expecting it soon.”

“Then I’ll leave later tonight after speaking with Sakura. We have something important to discuss.”

Kakashi gave a resigned, nauseated sigh, “Fine. That’s fine. Just go.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Over the past few months, Sasuke had done some research on this Asaya woman, now that he knew her name and that she was, fantastically, a real living person. He referenced Konoha Intelligence’s directory of foreign shinobi, where he learned that her full name was Kagami Asaya and she was almost exactly two years older than himself. The file stated she had officially been declared missing and dead many years ago.

The rest of the information wasn’t very helpful. She was conscripted as a child, so there was no information regarding where she was born or what family she had been born to. She was a jonin, but she only completed a handful of C-rank and B-rank missions. Unusual, but it was possible she suffered an injury which barred her from combat yet she still possessed some other skill or specialty useful in some other capacity. This often happened to medics, for example, although she was not listed as a medic. She was not identified as having any specific skill set or specialty. She was an average nobody, as far as Sasuke could tell.

He didn’t stop his search there, though. Once he had her full name and what other minimal info the file offered, he was able to search all manner of other records in Konoha’s archives. It also helped that he had access to every level of secret document. There had to be something more on this woman.

It took quite a lot of time and effort, but Sasuke eventually found one single record. About a year before she was declared dead, Konoha intercepted a secret message about an Iwa kunoichi who had mysteriously disappeared while attending a diplomatic event in a city near the eastern border of Earth Country. There was evidence of a possible abduction, likely an international one, but she may have simply run away. Iwa operatives in foreign territories were instructed to send immediate notice of a sighting, but not to approach her. The kunoichi’s name was omitted, but the physical description matched perfectly- height, hair and eye color, age, everything. It had to be her.

Unfortunately, Sasuke was unable to find information regarding when, how, or why she returned to Iwa, but that could explain why Konoha still listed her as deceased.

During the time of her disappearance, Sasuke had been with Orochimaru. It was very possible that he was behind her abduction, and that Sasuke had encountered her sometime then. Except that no matter how hard he tried, he still couldn’t remember ever having met her. Besides, what would Orochimaru have wanted with a mundane kunoichi anyway? Or anyone else, for that matter.

Sasuke reached across Sakura’s desk in her home office to open the lid of a small, blue-and-white porcelain jar of vermillion seal ink paste. ‘Shu,’ he had read so clearly in his dream. He felt almost nauseous thinking about it, eerily agitated and disturbed.

“I’m home,” Sakura called from the front door.

Sasuke dropped the lid back onto the jar with a clink and walked downstairs. “Welcome back,” he greeted his wife. “I have to leave again tonight.”

Sakura looked at him with a complete lack of amusement. “But you just got back yesterday,” she sighed. She understood that he usually had to leave suddenly without notice, but that didn’t mean she liked it either. He was grateful she was willing to put up with it for him.

“He told me to leave immediately, but I told him I needed to talk to you first. He thinks I just wanted to sleep with you one more time.”

“Well, don’t you?” she winked.

“Yes, obviously, but I can be patient,” he said. They had always made effective use of their time together, but she had been much more receptive and responsive to sex recently.

“If you say so,” she gave a mock pout. “It was a long night so I already had dinner at the hospital, sorry.” She led Sasuke over to the living room where they sat down on the sofa together. They didn’t bother turning the lights on.

“It’s ok, I’m not hungry. How was your appointment?”

“It went great. Everything is developing perfectly. It’s a girl, just like I wanted.” Her smile couldn’t have glowed any brighter.

Sakura had never been happier than when she became pregnant. Since she was a doctor with exceptional awareness of her own body, she knew as soon as she woke up that morning that an embryo had implanted like a dream come true. She practically giggled all through breakfast before finally telling him. It was another moment where, in his emotional inexperience, he didn’t know how to respond.

Pregnancy had been a wonderful experience for Sakura. She suffered only mild bouts of morning sickness, nausea, and fatigue. She liked being able to eat whatever she wanted, and she constantly mentioned how her skin and hair looked better (although he couldn’t tell because she had always looked lovely.) She cried unexpectedly sometimes, but most of the time she was just so happy. It was beautiful to watch.

Sasuke pulled her into his lap and reclined backwards while holding her close so that she lay on her back on top of him. “Good. Me, too,” he said. They would have been just as pleased with a boy, but luckily it turned out to be a girl. He placed his hand on Sakura’s growing stomach, unable to resist any opportunity.

“When do you want to tell everyone?” Sakura asked. She was about three months pregnant and her bump was still small enough to hide under dresses and hospital scrubs and white lab coats, especially since this was her first pregnancy, but it wouldn’t last forever.

Sakura had wanted to tell everyone the first day, but she kept it a secret because she knew the attention would make him uncomfortable. “Never, I want to keep it our secret forever,” Sasuke kissed her cheek. But really, he worried about Sakura and their baby in a way he had never worried about anything before, with a constant nagging that something terrible could happen at any moment. But he did not know how to voice it to her so he just held her closer.

“Alright,” she said. “How about I tell everyone while you’re away, and they can just ask you about it when you’re back and the excitement has died down?”

“Perfect,” he said. He also knew that Sakura announcing it by herself without him present would make it look like he didn’t care. Which wasn’t at all true, but her forgiveness for his shortcoming was another thing he was grateful for. “It’s funny that Kakashi thinks I’ve been around so much lately because we’re still trying. Little does he know you’ve been pregnant for like three months now.”

“Technically, I’m four months pregnant.”

Sasuke’s brow furrowed quizzically. “Wait, how? I was in Iwa four months ago. I thought you got pregnant in July.”

“Well, that was just when the embryo implanted and I officially became pregnant. It takes about a week or so after ovulation and subsequent fertilization for an embryo to implant,” she explained. “Also, pregnancy is calculated beginning on the first day of the last menstrual period, which is about two weeks before ovulation. That’s why I’m considered four months pregnant, even though you didn’t get back until two weeks later and I didn’t tell you until ten days after that.”

“How do you know all this?” Sasuke asked dumbfounded, and Sakura simply placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “Oh, right.”

“So, where are you going this time?” Sakura asked turning over to lay on her stomach on top of him. He could feel her bump pressing into him, but it wasn’t yet large enough to cause either of them discomfort in this position. She rested her head on his chest.

“Iwa again. It’s about the same thing as last time. I’m probably not supposed to tell you that, though.”

“Oh, really? Going to see your dream girl?” she asked slyly.

“Who?”

“The woman you dreamt about the night you came back from Iwa last time.” She lifted her head to watch his face as she said, “The night we conceived, remember?” 

Sasuke stared at her in mortified silence, his mouth hanging ajar. “Yes- no,” he floundered, “I mean no.” How did she know?

Sakura raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Hmm, what was her name again, Ameya?”

“Asaya,” her name tumbled from Sasuke’s mouth without thinking. “Wait, no, stop- it’s nothing to do with that. I’m just taking a thing to the Tsuchikage and then bringing back whatever information he has for Kakashi. I swear.”

“Geez, so defensive,” Sakura laughed. “I’m just teasing you.”

Sasuke dropped his head back on the couch cushion and groaned.

Sakura continued to chuckle while she maneuvered to sit upright and straddle him. Then, she pulled her dress up over her shoulders, tossed it aside, and then did the same with her bra. “Sasuke,” she called him.

Tilting his head forward, he basked in the sight of her- of her full breasts, of her softly curved belly, of her thighs around him. He could imagine nothing so beautiful.

“Do you still want to?” she whispered.

“Yes,” Sasuke said, and she leaned down over him to capture his lips in a kiss.

PART II: Forlorn Hope IV

Note: “Mizu” means water in Japanese.

A newborn baby cries. It is the soft, breathy coos that only newborn babies can sound. The baby girl scrunches her face with an open, toothless mouth while she fumbles her tiny limbs in unrefined gestures.

He picks her up from her white bassinet and cradles her in his arms, rocking her rhythmically back and forth with her small head of wispy, black hair supported by his hand, but she does not settle despite his best efforts. He begins to worry that he has done something wrong, or that there is something he should be doing but doesn’t know.

“Shhh,” he hears the woman whisper, “it’s alright.” She pulls down the left strap of her top to expose her breast, which is round and full with a pink nipple already leaking milk. She takes their baby from his arms and brings her to her nipple, where she instinctively latches and begins suckling.

“She’s just hungry again,” the woman says to him.

He feels relief watching their daughter happily nurse, glad that her mother knew what to do. It brings him an intimate form of joy. He sweeps her hair aside and kisses the center of her forehead.

“Wake up, sleepy head,” Sakura gently shakes his shoulder.

“Mizu-” Sasuke mumbles only half awake.

“Are you thirsty?” Sakura asks.

Sasuke opens his eyes to find Sakura leaning over him dressed in a pair of pastel blue silk pajamas that she had definitely not been wearing when he had fallen asleep. “No, I’m fine,” he says with a groggy voice.

“Okay. I packed a water canteen for you, but it’s a good idea to drink something before you leave,” she said.

Her words jump started his memory. “Dammit,” he said sitting up. He was still naked, but Sakura had covered him with a blanket. “I have to leave for Iwa tonight.”

“It might be a little late for tonight, but you can probably still get out of the village before the sun comes up.”

Sasuke groaned, “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

“Don’t get mad at yourself. I’m the reason you were so tired. I got everything packed and ready, so you just have to get dressed. I would have woken you up sooner, but you looked so peaceful.”

“No, don’t worry about it. Kakashi might be a little mad if he finds out, but he probably won’t.” Sasuke sat up and swung his feet to the floor to see his clothes neatly laid out on the chair beside him. Sakura must have washed them for him.

“I think you can still shower if you hurry,” she suggested.

“I showered before you got home. I’m just going to get dirty again on the road anyway,” he said slipping his shirt over his head and stepping into his pants. He headed towards the door and wrapped his cloak around his shoulders.

“Here,” Sakura handed him his travel bag and he slung it over his shoulder. “Come back safe, okay,” she said.

“I will,” he promised, taking one last look at her and their unborn child before departing. Finally, in a spontaneous gesture he had never done before, swept her bangs aside and kissed the center of her forehead.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Part I: Caw

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Tsuchikage Tower looked different. Actually, it looked exactly the same as far as Sasuke could tell, but he felt like it had been moved four centimeters to the side or tilted at a four-degree angle. Sasuke walked up the stone staircase into the tower, checked in with security, and went up to the top floor to see the same secretary he’d encountered last time. “I’m here to see the Tsuchikage on behalf of the Hokage. My name is Uchiha Sasuke,” he said.

The secretary looked at the daily schedule “What time was your appointment?”

“I don’t have one. It’s urgent business.” Sasuke pulled a letter from his coat pocket and handed it to her. A letter with the Hokage’s seal on it.

She scrutinized its contents. “This isn’t the norm, but I’ll tell him you’re here.” Pressing the intercom button, she spoke into the microphone, “Hello, sir.”

A few seconds later, the Tsuchikage replied, “Yes, what is it?”

The secretary spoke every word with exaggerated enunciation. “The Hokage sent a shinobi to see you. His name is Uchiha Sasuke. It’s urgent business, sir.”

Sasuke didn’t understand why they used the intercom when she could have just knocked on the door, especially since he clearly had difficulty understanding it.

“I see, yes, yes,” the Tsuchikage answered, “Send him in.” The secretary gestured Sasuke towards the double doors.

“Ah, you again. What news do you bring to me?” the old man said upon seeing Sasuke.

“I’m here to follow up on my visit a few months ago.” Sasuke pulled the black lacquerware box Kakashi had given him from his cloak along with a sealed report file and placed them on the Tsuchikage’s massive hardwood desk.

The Tsuchikage squinted at the gold markings on the black box and opened the file. He browsed through its contents, stopping here and there to read select passages closely. “Hm, I see,” he finally grumbled. “I’ll have to send this to my specialist.” He pressed a button on the intercom and Sasuke heard a buzz from the other side of the doors.

“Yes, sir,” the secretary’s voice came through the speaker.

“Call Asaya and have her come to my office immediately.”

Sasuke’s breath hitched.

“Do you mean Kagami Asaya?”

“Is there another Asaya? Yes, I mean Kagami.”

“Yes, sir. I will send for her right away.”

“Take a seat,” the Tsuchikage instructed Sasuke. “No wonder your Hokage sent this to me; Iwa has the greatest seal decryption specialist of all nations. She’ll be able to unlock this easily.”

What a pompous thing to say, Sasuke thought. Still, he could feel the anticipation seeping into his veins.

“There’s a problem, sir,” the secretary’s voice interjected over the intercom. “Asaya just left for lunch. She won’t be back for a while.”

“What?” the old man shouted into the microphone. “Who eats lunch this late in the day? Have someone fetch her from the cafeteria.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but she’s out of the building. We’ll have to wait for her to return.”

When Asaya and Mei arrived back at the Tsuchiksge’s tower, a shinobi was stationed and waiting at the entrance for them.

“Are you Miss Kagami?” he asked.

“Yes, I am she,” Asaya answered. She was surprised he asked for her by name. It could only mean that something concerning had happened.

“You are needed in the Tsuchikage’s office immediately,” he said with a perfect, soldier-like affect.

“Why? What’s the matter?” Mei asked on Asaya’s behalf.

“I cannot say. But it is urgent,” he turned to Asaya, “Follow me, Miss Kagami.”

“I’ll be fine, Mei. I’ll see you later,” Asaya smiled and followed the shinobi.

He led her up to the top floor in front of the Tsuchikage’s office, where Asaya stopped in front of the secretary’s desk to check in.

“Hello, Honoka, I’m here to-“ Asaya began, expecting the secretary to buzz her in as per standard procedure.

“Just go in,” Honoka waived one hand impatiently towards the office doors.

Asaya bowed respectfully as soon as she entered the Tsuchikage’s office. “I’m very sorry, sir.”

“Where have you been, Asaya? We’ve been waiting for some time,” the Tsuchikage said.

“Mei and I were out for lunch like we usually are on Fridays,” Asaya straightened a bit but kept her head inclined towards the floor.

“At three in the afternoon?”

“Yes, sir.”

The Tsuchikage sighed, “In any case, I’ve summoned you for a reason. Konoha has requested that we assist them with seal decryption related to an ongoing situation we are both monitoring. This is a situation that requires the utmost discretion, of course.”

“Understood, sir.” Asaya had to admit this piqued her curiosity. Whatever could require the resources of both great villages? What required Konoha to ask for Iwa’s help? Which, in this case, was to say her help?

“Good. Let me introduce you to Uchiha Sasuke.”

Asaya’s body froze. She resisted the instinct to look up, and instead calmly, carefully lifted her head.

“He was sent by the Hokage with this sealed box,” the Tsuchikage continued, “Your task, of course, is to open it.” Turning to his guest, he said, “Uchiha, this is Kagami Asaya. She is our principal fuinjutsu specialist.”

“We’ve met,” the Uchiha said, and Asaya nearly felt the onset of rigor mortis.

“I don’t think we have,” Asaya said a little more forcefully than she would have liked.

“Briefly, when I was here a few months ago,” he said. It felt as if the statement were a challenge.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember,” she claimed, “It’s nice to meet you now, though.”

Sasuke’s brow twitched ever so slightly, and Asaya felt in her heart that he knew she was lying.

“Well then,” the Tsuchikage cut in, “Now that we’ve all introduced ourselves, let’s address the issue at hand. Kagami, I want you to begin working on this right away. If you need to shift some of your responsibilities to someone else, do so. Now, take this box and you may leave. Our guest can explain the situation in further detail back at your office.”

“I think I can manage by myself-“

“Don’t be rude. Our guest has come all the way from Konoha. I’m sure he has lots of valuable insight to offer,” the Tsuchikage said.

Asaya was silent for one long moment in which she tried to think of a way out of this situation, but she couldn’t. “Yes, sir.” She took the lacquerware box from his desk and bowed respectfully before leaving.

~*~*~*~

Sasuke followed the woman out of the Tsuchikage’s office straight past the secretary who gave them a closed-mouthed stare from the side of her eye as they passed.

The woman- Asaya- walked quickly down the hall, her heeled shoes tapping the floor in a way his shinobi sandals did not. She walked straight in perfect posture, but Sasuke could see the muscles of her shoulders tense under the collar of her emerald green cardigan.

After traversing numerous hallways and stairwells, they came to an office, although Sasuke quickly assessed that it was more of a study or workshop. Bookshelves and curio cabinets and apothecary chests stretched floor to ceiling with all manner of materials and objects. One large worktable with a couple wheeled stools took up the center of the room. There were large pieces of drafting paper layered atop one another and instruments of measurement- a compass, a ruler, and an abacus of all things- scattered about. One smaller desk nested in the corner under the only window.

Asaya set the box on the worktable, pulled over a stool, and sat down. She turned it, examining each side before stating, “Someone’s been smuggling artifacts across multiple borders.”

“Yes,” Sasuke gave her a quizzical look. She knew that just from looking at the squiggles painted on the box?

Anticipating his surprise, she explained, “This lacquerware box is new and its dimensions don’t meet any common manufacturing standard, so it was constructed specifically for the object inside. Additionally, the pattern of symbols on the exterior is relatively modern. It’s derived from a cypher developed by Amegakure during the Third Great War but quickly abandoned. Ame developed it out of necessity for guerrilla warfare as an easy way to train soldiers to perform simple tasks with seals: set a trap, leave a message, lock a door. But the simplicity that made it easy to learn was also why it was abandoned; it was quickly deciphered by opposing forces and therefore rendered useless. It’s all but disappeared since then, though.”

Sasuke wasn’t sure, but he felt she was politely declining to say something like, ‘I’m surprised you needed my help with something this simple.’

“However, it found it’s way into use by non-shinobi criminal and other underground organizations because of its ease of use. It hardly requires any specialized training and only the most basic understanding of chakra control. Compared to what we as shinobi train years for, that is. But it’s still pretty rare. This much effort wouldn’t be worth it for cocaine or heroine. So, it has to be something more valuable than that, like artifacts. Probably shinobi-related ones judging by the urgency. And since you’ve come here from Konoha to coordinate with Iwa, it must be an international concern. Ergo, a criminal network is smuggling artifacts across our borders.”

Sasuke was floored. “I guess you didn’t need me to explain anything after all.”

Asaya responded with a small, silent shake of her head to politely say, no, I didn’t.

“Do you know what’s supposed to be inside?” she asked.

“No, do you?” Sasuke asked back.

“No, that I cannot tell from the exterior. It might have been useful to know in case it’s something fragile or sensitive, but I can have it radiographed to find out. I can have this opened in two or three days, if you’ll come back then.”

Leave, was what she was tactfully saying.  Sasuke lingered momentarily while he thought of something absurd, something impossible. “Alright,” he said, “I’ll be back later then.”

Sasuke cursed his cowardice on his way out. He should have just asked her or said what he wanted. It wasn’t like him to shy and back down like this.

~*~*~*~

Asaya released a shuddering sigh after the door closed and his footsteps disappeared. She didn’t know how she’d been able to keep herself together. Tears welled up and clouded her vision. Every memory and emotion she’d damned away flooded through her. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to feel any of this- any of the things she refused to name. Why couldn’t she, despite all her expertise, lock it in a box and burry it somewhere she could forget?

She pulled a large notepad towards her and picked up a pen, but her unsteady hand fumbled and it dropped back onto the table and rolled away until fell over the edge and clattered on the floor.

Asaya clutched her chest and began to whimper while a black-beaked phantom pecked at her bones.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Part II: Forlorn Hope V

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A black-haired little girl only about two years old squeals in delight while crawling into Asaya’s lap. Asaya adjusts her into a comfortable position for the both of them and opens a picture book.

“A fish has just stolen a hat,” Asaya reads aloud, “And he’ll probably get away with it. Probably.” She speaks the last word with a dramatic lilt and the little girl giggles while Asaya turns the page.

“This hat is not mine,” Asaya gives the small fish a mischievous voice, “I just stole it…”

The little girl looks back and forth between Asaya to gauge her expressions and match them to the illustrations, completely engrossed in the experience.

After reading the whole story, Asaya turns to the final page which only shows a big fish wearing a little hat. After scanning the illustration for a moment, the little girl points at the little blue hat on the big fish.

“Looks like they got their hat back, didn’t they?” Asaya remarks and closes the picture book.

Tiny hands slap on the back cover and she babbles, “ge, a-ge.”

“Nope, not again. Time for bed now.” Asaya kisses the top of her head and scoops the little girl into her arms while rocking forward to stand up. Then she sways side-to-side to help calm her. She gives a frustrated hum but wraps her little arms around Asaya’s neck and rests her head on her shoulder.

The little girl quietly yawns and Asaya takes her to the nursery, puts her to sleep in her white crib, and tucks her in with a soft pink blanket. She runs her thumb tenderly across the little girl’s cheek. “Goodnight, Yuna. Sweet dreams,” Asaya says, almost wistfully.

“Do you think she knows that the big fish ate the little fish?” Tsuta asked Asaya when she returned to the living room.

“Nope,” Asaya answered. “At her age they just want to listen to your voice while you pay attention to them. It’s an important part of language learning. I pick her bedtime stories purely for how much I enjoy them.”

“That is exactly something you would do,” Tsuta said. “When did her mom say she was getting home again?”

“Suzume said she’d be back around eight thirty or something like that. Maybe nine if she gets held up.”

Suzume was one of Tsuta’s older sisters. She worked, like the rest of the Tsuchikage’s family, as the head of some division or department that did something shinobi village related. Tsuta kept forgetting which one though because he didn’t live in Iwa anymore, he lived in the Earth Capitol doing non-shinobi things. He just came back a few times a year to visit family. Or found family, if he were being truthful.

“Got it. Suzume was gushing about how good you’ve been for Yuna, by the way. She really appreciates everything you do for her.”

Suzume’s husband died six months ago on mission and she had to abruptly adapt to being a single mother. It was challenging, especially since she worked long hours. Asaya had never been close with Suzume because she, like the rest of her family, had mistreated Tsuta his entire life. However, Asaya hated watching how Suzume’s stress was affecting her daughter, little Yuna. Yuna had even stopped talking altogether for a while and only recently began trying to learn words again.

“It’s nothing,” Asaya said. “I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it is to be a single mother. I’m just happy to see Yuna smiling and laughing again. She deserves to be happy.” Secretly, Asaya felt conflicted between feeling sorrowful that little Yuna would never know her father and feeling relieved that she was too young to experience the pain of loosing him.

“I know you’re a caring person and all, but stop being humble and just take the compliment,” Tsuta countered. “Actually, she was even talking to mom and me about how you ‘would have been such an excellent mother,’ which is funny because I know how much you never wanted kids.”

“No, not at all,” Asaya said emotionlessly. “Never have, never will.”

Part I:  Til Death Us Depart

“How was your honeymoon, Mei?” Asaya asked greeting her friend with a warm hug. They hadn’t seen each other in nearly two months since before the wedding.

“It was wonderful!” Mei exclaimed. “The countryside was beautiful. The autumn foliage was so bright and colorful and bathing in an onsen every night was like the most luxurious thing ever. I wish we could have stayed forever and I never had to come back to work,” she concluded with a pout.

“Are you suggesting that spending eight hours a day twice a week stuck in an office with me isn’t somehow the best part of your life? I am offended.” Asaya placed a hand over her collarbone to feign clutching a pearl necklace.

Mei chuckled and smiled, the apples of her cheeks full and round.

“I’m glad you had a wonderful time though. I hope it was everything you dreamed of.”

“It was,” her beatific smile faded to a frown, “But now I only have one more week with Tetsuya before he has to go back to the Imperial City. Kind of a bummer.”

“Yeah, long distance relationships are difficult like that. Or I guess it’s a long-distance marriage now,” Asaya empathized with Mei more than she knew. “But when you move to the Earth Capitol it won’t be a problem anymore. Maybe you’ll even spend too much time together,” she lightheartedly joked.

“I know. I’m so excited but I’m also so nervous. I’ve never lived anywhere but Iwa.”

Mei would move to the Earth Capitol to live with her new husband by the end of the year. As well as their relationship has worked long distance, now that they were married, they wanted to finally live together. And Tetsuya wanted to be an involved father. How could he do that when his family lived hundreds of miles away?

“Don’t be. You’ll love the Capitol. It’s all bright lights and endless excitement. You’ll love the culture and fashion, definitely. Before too long you’ll wonder how you ever lived in a place like this.”

“Have you ever been?” Mei raised an eyebrow.

“Once, briefly,” Asaya pulled a chair out from under her desk and sat down. “It was just in passing though, so I don’t remember much other than the excitement.” She wasn’t supposed to discuss why she had been in the Capitol, she caught herself. “Anyway, have they found a transfer position for you yet?”

“Yes, actually. I got the placement just before I left for our honeymoon. It’s just a standard administrative assistant position, but I guess when you ask for a transfer they just give you what they’ve got. It’s in the primary building on one of the top floors though, which is supposed to be really nice.”

That’s because they expect you to only be there for a year or two, Asaya kept her thoughts to herself. And then retire to raise children. “That’s great, I hope they have a cafeteria and break room that's nicer than ours.”

“I’ll have to tell you when I find out.” Mei said.

Asaya had known the moment Mei had announced her engagement to Tetsuya, perhaps even sooner, that her relationship with Mei would fade sooner or later. Mei had wanted a different style of life than Asaya did, a mostly incompatible one. Mei wanted to fall in love and marry and have the national average 2.5 children. Asaya would never do two of those things. She speculated that about six months to a year from now, they would announce they were expecting. Mei would probably work until the last month or so of pregnancy, then retire to become a dedicated full-time mother. Regardless if being a working mom was something she wanted, why bother working when you’re underpaid and overqualified when you don’t have to and you could spend time with your family instead?

It was stupid that talented women like Mei were casually dismissed into lower-level positions like that. Even if it was just for a short time, why not allow someone to contribute to and use their full potential? What was wrong with wanting to raise a family? What was wrong with being a woman?

But as for Asaya, it was prohibitively challenging for an unmarried, childless (or child-free, as she thought of it) woman to maintain a friendship with a married mother. Regardless of the distance, it was difficult to spend time with a mother if you didn’t have children yourself. Motherhood was a time-consuming duty. It was easier to spend time with other women when you saw them at the playground, or on the way to and from school or the doctor’s office, or that you were in a baby-sitting co-op with.

And, as Asaya had personally experienced, it was difficult to get mothers to have a conversation in which children, theirs or not, were not the entire focus of the conversation. She knew that over the next year or two, they would slowly see and write to each other less and less. Even if it wasn’t something either of them wanted to happen.

Asaya would never ask someone to change their entire life just to be friends with her, nor could she ever change herself to fit in with someone else’s. No matter how much she wished she could.

 “Actually, why don’t you come visit me in the Capitol some time? You’re always telling me stories about distant places and you’ve never even seen any of them.”

“That’s very nice of you, Mei.” If only she knew that Asaya had actually seen many of the places she talked about. She’d been to half the world, it seemed in her memory. “I’ll have to come up with an excuse for them to send me there for something work related. Then I could stay a whole week or two and not have to pay for a hotel.”

“We have a spare room, silly. You can just stay with us.”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I want to stay under the same roof as a newlywed couple,” Asaya said with a suggestive lilt.

“Asaya,” Mei said gravely.

Asaya hummed.

“This might be shocking to you, but we’ve already had sex. We’ve had lots of sex. In fact, we were routinely having sex even before we got married. I think we can abstain for a week or two while you visit.”

Asaya couldn’t help but smile, “Uh-huh, sure.”

“Although, if you were my mother-in-law, we would have sex at every night until you left. Loud sex. Probably most mornings, too,” Mei said with the sweetest smile.

Asaya had to cover a grin with her hand and look away.

“Well, she wants grandchildren. I don’t know how she thinks that’s going to happen otherwise.” Mei emphatically raised her eyebrows. “I think she’d be happy to know we were working on it.”

“Dammit, Mei,” Asaya smirked, “you’re terrible.”

Mei shrugged nonchalant.

“Don’t judge me. You could have married him too and you didn’t. You know exactly how obnoxious that woman can be.”

Tears of laughter welled up in Asaya’s eyes and her cheeks almost hurt at how wide she grinned. “Oh my gosh, Mei,” she squeaked between laughing fits, “I just want you know that anyone but us would think this in an incredibly fucked up conversation.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why we’re friends.”

A poignant look settled over Mei’s face, seemingly as if she had been thinking something for a lot longer than just now. “Why didn’t you ever…” her voice trailed off.

Get married? Asaya knew the unspoken end of the sentence. As if being single were something to be pitied. But she understood why people thought that way. Didn’t agree with it, just understood it.

Or was Mei really wondering why Asaya declined Tetsuya’s proposal? Remarkably, there were no hard feelings between any of them, so there was never a clear reason for it to Mei, just a vague sense of “we were more compatible as friends,” which was a non-answer. Why would anyone turn down a proposal from someone they had been close friends with since adolescence, and especially from a member of the Tsuchikage’s family. What in inexplicably wasted opportunity, after all.

Mei blinked a few times and looked at the clock. “Oh, look, it’s a quarter after nine. We should get back to work before someone walks in on us idling.” She pulled a notepad towards her and clicked her pen.

“Right,” Asaya said and opened the folder on her desk.

Part II: Unfinished Business

Sasuke returned to the woman’s study four days later and knocked on the door four times.

“Come in,” she chimed from inside.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted her after closing the door behind him.

“Good afternoon,” she replied from the desk by the window in the corner. She set down her pen and closed a folder before standing up. “Your box is on the table. You can open it, if you’d like.”

Sasuke stepped towards the worktable where the black lacquerware box sat. He didn’t recognize it at first because all the gold inscriptions had disappeared. That must have been a result of unsealing it. He lifted the lid to find an ornate metal disc cradled in a bed of red velvet. It had an image of two peafowl under a camellia tree. “Is it safe to touch?”

“Yes,” she said.

It fit within the span of his fingers, but was quite weighty, he found. Solid metal would be. He flipped it over to find the opposite side was a smooth, reflective surface.

“It’s a magic mirror,” she explained, having clued into his curiosity. “If you reflect light off of it, it will project an image, usually the same one as on the reverse. But this one has a false back. You can tell from the seam around the circumference. It’s been cleverly hidden along the edge of the flat and curved faces and masked by the design, but it’s there,” she said without thinking, as if explaining specialized knowledge to people who didn’t understand was something she did every day.

“How do you know-“ Sasuke stopped himself before asking something stupidly rude. “Do you know what the projection is?”

The woman- Asaya, he had to force himself to use her name- hesitated before answering, like she was contemplating what answer would end this interaction as quickly as possible. Like a toddler guiltily trying to avoid a consequence.

“I’m not completely sure, but I think it’s a map.”

“A map? Is that normal?” Not that he was an archaeologist, but it seemed weird.

“Not to my knowledge. I’ve never heard of one like this.”

Sasuke looked at the swing-arm desk lamp at the far end of the worktable. “Can you show me?”

“Yes.” She switched off the overhead lights and then adjusted the lamp. He passed her the mirror and she held it under the light so that it projected onto the ceiling.

Whatever grand reveal Sasuke was expecting didn’t happen. Sure, it was kind of interesting to look at, but he couldn’t really tell what it was supposed to be. Just a bunch of abstract squiggles and shapes. Not like any map he’d seen. Although, he guessed that all maps were just squiggles and shapes, but still. “What makes you think it’s a map?”

“Lots of things,” Asaya heaved. “Historically, these were sometimes used to share information between members of small, secretive groups or elite organizations. Understanding the images relies on the viewer already having insider knowledge of how to interpret the iconography and other symbols, otherwise the meaning is unintelligible. Cosmology charts and deities of persecuted religions, for example. In the eras before the first great war and the founding of the village system, you might even see a shinobi clan crest.

“This image doesn’t match those descriptions, but it was definitely commissioned by someone of considerable wealth and status. These were expensive and time consuming to make, especially one of this craftsmanship. This was, I suspect, a secret document. One that that wouldn’t be subject to fire or water damage, or discovered by enemies when traveling.

“It’s a bit of a hunch, but these look like they could be geographical features, a river here and a mountain there,” she cast a shadow over the projection with her finer to point to different parts of the image, “Presumably, the intended viewer would have already understood the map key, so they would have known what these smaller shapes might mean, like a village or building or another landmark. They also would have known the scale. I have no way of knowing definitively how far apart these features are, and certainly no way of knowing where in the world this is supposed to be without additional information. I don’t know what it’s supposed to lead to, either, if anything.”

The way she knew such remarkable things that went right over Sasuke’s head, the way she couldn’t help herself but explain them at length in this passionate yet congenial and unassuming way reminded him of Saku- he shook away the thought.

“The image quality of this mirror is remarkable in comparison to the other examples I know of. Most produce images which are quite small and hazy and consequently lack this amount of detail. Unfortunate that it’s been caught up in your investigation; it belongs in a museum,” Asaya concluded.

Sasuke had never even heard of these things before, so the significance of her words was lost on him. “I’m not investigating this. I’m just the messenger.”

“I see,” she said. “I don’t mean to waste your time, then. Or delay you.” She removed the mirror from under the lamp then flipped it back over and looked at the reverse image one final time in a way that seemed strange to Sasuke, like it was something sentimental she didn’t want to let go of, kind of like the way Sakura looked at old photographs and mementos sometimes. Maybe she was just disappointed that she wouldn’t get to study it further. Finally, she carefully placed the mirror back into the black lacquerware box that had once been covered by a secret code developed by Amegakure.

Gears began to turn in Sasuke’s mind. He saw an endless downpour of rain onto a city of dismal sky scrapers crowned in neon, the colorful light delicately radiating through a large glass windowpane into a dark room where she lay beside him. “You knew my brother,” he murmured like he was recalling a distant memory. He didn’t realize he’d said it aloud until she turned her head towards him, not quite able to look at him while a quiet panic crept into her features.

He clenched his jaw. Everything made sense now. “You were in Amegakure when you disappeared; that’s why you knew their code when no one else did.” How had he not figured it out sooner? Unconsciously, his tone became increasingly aggressive. “They must have kidnapped you and taken you to Ame. That’s how you met him, isn’t it?”

Consternation distorted Asaya’s expression despite her effort to remain composed. “I’m sorry, but I-“ she stammered, “I don’t know who-“

Liar. Sasuke’s temper flared. “Itachi.” Asaya winced when he spoke his brother’s name. “His name was Uchiha-“

“I know his name!” she cried back at him.

Sasuke’s heart stopped then reeled a moment later. He was not emotionally prepared for, of all impossible things, any of it to be true. He studied her while she stared transfixed at nothing off in some invisible distance and his demeanor softened.

“You can’t possibly know that,” she breathlessly whispered.

“I don’t understand it, either.”

Now what? Sasuke thought. He hadn’t thought this far ahead, hadn’t planned for it. “I just want to know,” he began.

“Know what?” cut her terse reply.

“Anything.”

What was she thinking right now, he wondered while she slowly ground her teeth. How could he begin to guess? But she was probably angry at him. And confused. He couldn’t blame her. For so many reasons.

“This isn’t a good place to discuss anything,” she seemed to search for the right word, “illicit.”

“I understand if you don’t want to talk.” He suddenly felt kind of guilty for confronting her with the past like this. Well, not quite guilty, but conflicted. Did he even have the right to? He was his brother, so why wouldn’t he?

Three loud knocks on the door and a shinobi peered through the narrow glass window on the door and said, “Is everything alright in there? We’ve heard some shouting.”

“We’re fine,” Asaya called back. “Everything is fine. Thank you for checking.”

The shinobi scrutinized what he could see of them and their surroundings before giving an affirmative nod and walking away.

She tilted her head towards the door and said in a low voice, “They’re never far enough away. Never.”

“Oh, I see. Then…” Sasuke said, but his thoughts trailed off.

 A short huff escaped Asaya’s chest and she tapped one finger on the worktable a few times. “Why?”

‘Why?’ what? Why did he want to know? “He was my brother,” Sasuke answered as if it should have been self-explanatory.

But then again, it wasn’t, was it? Sasuke was the one who… She probably thought he had some sort of residual revenge against anyone who had ever been associated with his brother. That she might be the next victim. She had no reason to think he meant her no harm. She wouldn’t know the truth.

“It’s not what you think. It’s not like that at all,” Sasuke tried to sound as un-hostile as possible. “I’m not- I don’t mean you any harm. I just want to know.”

Her round eyes narrowed, but not angerly- like she had freshly cut a finger. No, actually, more like an old suture had ripped open.

“I just want to understand. He was my brother, but I never knew him. Never had the chance.” Sasuke swallowed hard, “Please.”

Asaya’s shoulders, which had been rigidly square like a soldier standing at attention, collapsed like the suspension cables of a bridge had snapped.

“Alright,” she relented. “Alright.”

Sasuke hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath.

“But not here,” she added, thinking. “There’s a park in the northern part of the city called Benzaiten’s Park. There’s a red gate at the main entrance. Meet me there in four days at midnight.”

Sasuke nodded affirmatively, almost eagerly. He was supposed to bring the box back to Konoha immediately, but he didn’t really care. They weren’t expecting him back this fast anyway.

“And don’t tell anyone. Now take the mirror and go.” She picked up the black box and handed it back to him.

Sasuke looked her directly in the eyes and said, “I’ll see you then.”