A/N: Information on the sequel and epilogue will be given at the end of the chapter.

Warning: Mentions of animal cruelty, graphic violence, and gore. Like, a lot of graphic violence, with the sixth and eighth images depicting blood and injury.

::

What did it mean to seek answers for the sake of the truth?

"Why did you suggest to grant that team—Team Eight—a chuunin status?"

Mitokado Homura peered through his glasses at the man seated at his left. The conference room felt strangely empty without a Hokage to hold the fourth seat, yet there was a certain pressure in the air that only a person like Shimura Danzo could be capable of creating.

Utatane Koharu eyed her fellow councilman, curious as well.

"As mentioned before, Konoha is running low on upper division shinobi to undertake missions meant to replenish the funds used for reconstruction," Danzo answered. His fingers curled around the hilt of his cane. "Is the Nara not doing well on his temporary assignment as an Academy coordinator?"

"Working in-village is one thing, sending greenhorns to investigate a series of kidnappings in another." Homura sighed. "I just hope you know what you're doing."

"The leader assigned to them is capable and experienced. If the chuunin with him do not return, it's no loss to us, no?"

"They were aware of the consequences of such an instance when they accepted their mission," said Koharu. She turned, and the pin in her hair clinked. "Though I suppose it would be a shame if we lose them."

Homura raised a single brow. "Oh?"

"I could see their potential," she replied, wholly unaware of the storm brewing just beneath Danzo's skin. "Their poise at our meeting paired with their quick completion of the second task in the exams? It's been a while since I've seen properly trained genin like those."

Danzo leaned back against his chair as his unbandaged eye observes the other two with a level stare. Did Team Eight have potential? Certainly. They'd been smart enough to be one of the best and held that Will of Fire so close to their chests it burned.

Shame they struck their match against the wind.

"What of Jiraiya and your proposition?"

"He wouldn't take it."

"I could have told you that much."

"But," Koharu continued sternly, "he was more than willing to collect the next candidate and bring her in."

"You can't possibly mean—"

"Tsunade." Homura pursed his lips, the picture of doubt. "If she can be found, that is."

::

[3 WEEKS; 6 DAYS; 7 HOURS; 11 MINUTES; 59 SECONDS]

Kiba checked over his opponent with a snarl. Whoever she was might as well be the only person who actually looked excited for the fight and constantly looked up in the stands like a puppy waiting for a treat after being told to sit.

His gaze flashed after hers and landed on a balding man wearing a suit that could easily be worth two years' worth of C-rank missions, then his attention landed back on her. She wasn't even paying attention.

"You gonna keep makin' those goo-goo eyes at your dumbass boss or you gonna fight?"

Her face snapped to him and she growled. "Don't you dare disrespect the head of the Cerdo Foundation!"

When it clicked in his head that she was genuine in her defense of that spineless pig, rage brewed in his eyes and clouded them over. He wasn't angry with her, no, that wouldn't be fair—but at the circumstance, the coliseum, the assholes in the stands who were just sick enough to think this was all fun and games despite the tens of bodies hauled out day after day after day.

Everything went red.

It was some hours later that he woke up back in the cell with drugged dizziness in his brain and muscles that moved like they lagged. He groaned and rolled to the side.

From his shoulders to the tips of his fingers, it was wet, sticky, and crimson.

He didn't think about it.

::

Shibi sat in a cafe a short walk from his own home as he slowly stirred his coffee, lost in his thoughts.

Shino had been gone on that mission for nearly a month now, taking his secrets and his silence with him. He knew the mission, along with its relatively high ranking, came because of the funds Konoha needed, but he couldn't help but worry.

"Where's your head at, Aburame?"

Tsume dropped into the empty seat across from him with her fanged grin and her eyeshadow as bold and dark as the tattoos across her cheeks.

"Inuzuka-san," he greeted. "Kuromaru-san isn't with you today?"

"Nah, he's helpin' Hana wrangle some pups back at the clinic." She shrugged. "Thought a walk would be nice, house seemed a bit stuffy." She eyed him for a moment. "But I saw you and that look on your face and wanted to come by. Worried about Shino, huh?"

He sighed. "Is it that obvious?"

"Hey, I ain't here to judge. I know how it is, but what's eatin' you up?"

His hesitation came in the too-tight grip on his cup that he loosened just before it was on the verge of cracking, and he sighed again. "Have you noticed anything... different, with Kiba? Not that I've seen anything off myself, but perhaps there's something?" He frowned and his voice lowered. "Shino's not home anymore. We don't talk because there never seems like there's anything to talk about, and you would think he would share with his own father that he's only in the possession of one eye, not two." He shut his eyes and breathed. "Then comes the fact that I would've never learned of it until I forced him to look at me."

Tsume's jaw hung slack, words pouring from her brain but none of them landing on her tongue. She settled for the only sure thing she could muster herself up to say, "Shino lost an eye?"

"And I didn't even know," he whispered. "I didn't know."

He propped an elbow on the table and dropped his forehead into his hand. Tsume gaped at him, stricken, and absently waved off the waitress who came and asked if she would like to order anything.

She thought it was just Kiba who'd become so withdrawn that sometimes she'd be surprised the next time she saw him. One time it was because of a new shirt she'd never seen before, and another because of his hair that'd been cut shorter, and again because he'd gotten into reading texts on seals and theory and history that neither her or Hana had ever spared the time for.

"I think there's something wrong. And I... I should've paid more attention to Kiba when I realized that," she admitted guiltily. Shibi glanced up. "He reads so many books. Y'know, those big blocky ones they made you trudge through for essays back at the Academy. Hana saw a stack of them when she stopped by his room one of those rare days he was actually there and I don't... see him a lot, either. I didn't think anything of it then. God, why didn't I?" She ran a frustrated hand through her untamed hair. "I don't remember when it started, I don't remember why it started, but you wanna know what I do remember? That one day I didn't set out a third plate for him for dinner 'cause I was so used to him not being there."

Saying it out loud brought on an ache in her chest she knew all too well, but couldn't name.

What did it mean to be "good"?

Shibi stared into his untouched coffee. The metal spoon sitting in it was still warm. "Are we bad parents?"

Tsume breathed deeply through her nose. "I don't know," she murmured. "But I think I am."

"... I think I am, too."

A couple tables over, a woman laughed with her soon as they shared a few slices of cake and a couple of fruit smoothies, strawberry for her and kiwi for him. The front door swung open and the bell above the doorway jingled as an old man stepped in, greeting one of the waitresses with a smile before taking a seat and ordering the same coffee he'd been getting the last five years. Near one of the corners, a secretary filled out his paperwork as he slowly made his way through the noodles he'd ordered nearly an hour ago. He didn't mind that they'd gone cold.

And Tsume and Shibi sat still and silent as the world continued to turn without them.

"Before Shino went on his mission, he said he didn't know how long he would be gone, but it would be for a while," Shibi mentioned. "I don't know how to describe it, but the way he spoke to me—the way he said goodbye, it seemed..."

"Final?" Tsume finished shakily. An image of her son's sad smile and glassy eyes briefly flashed in her vision. "Like he wouldn't come back? Like he was sayin' it one last time?"

A twisting dread flushed through Shibi's stomach. "You don't think—"

"N-No, they're... it's just a B-rank. They'll be fine," she said, but it sounded like she was only trying to convince herself. "It's just first mission jitters. Right? Aburame?"

He couldn't answer her question, but he nodded and hoped.

Yet somehow, it only made the stone in his stomach heavier.

::

[1 MONTH; 2 DAYS; 1 HOUR; 50 MINUTES; 13 SECONDS]

Something shifted in the hallway as Nezumi led him down it, and Shino glanced toward the noise before his eye flickered back up to the jovial moderator at his side. "There was something said about Suna not being enough for you, and that's the reason why you're here," he remarked. She tilted her head. "I don't believe it's that simple. Why? Some shinobi are complex, some are not."

"Perhaps I am the latter?"

"Doubtful."

She laughed, and he didn't think there was much humor behind it. "You children are so curious. But, it's wonderful to have mice that inquire instead of scuttling to the corners to hide." Her eyes scrunched. "Though I do find myself wondering what you can learn from asking this of me. Care to enlighten, Nurse?"

Another utterance of that moniker was another chip off his nerve, but he tightened his jaw and held his tongue. Their interest in Oosuna Nezumi? Maybe it was because she could be cruel when she wasn't, that she'll leave half-used rolls of gauze behind, that she never once withheld fights and always made sure they meet their quotas.

It was strange for her to be loyal to opposing halves.

It was stranger for her to care.

"Because you don't make sense," he answered.

"Well," she said with a grin that showed all her teeth, "neither do any of you."

They stopped at the arena entrance and waited just like any other day, and it wasn't long until Nezumi spoke again. "If Suna is not enough for me, what else do you think could possibly drive me here?"

Shino puzzled it over. He didn't know anything about her aside from the fact that she was strong enough to work for an illegal company and callous enough to brand any stranger she could help kidnap, so the only thing he could deduce was that there was nothing he could go off of.

So he did the one thing he could and rethought her question as if he was the one who asked it. He changed 'Suna' to 'Konoha', then found there wasn't anything else to switch out.

'If Konoha is not enough for me, what else do you think could possibly drive me here?'

He looked up at her. "Who are you here for?"

The doors open and he walked through. When he threw back a glance, there was less of a smile on her face and more of a cold acknowledgement that somehow, he'd hit the nail right on the head.

What did it mean to let a traitor fall?

"A kudhub," replied Nezumi.

He faced back forward just as the doors clanged shut.

He wonders what sort of person that liar must have been to drag her all the way here.

::

Naruto hummed under his breath as he dug through the mess he called a room, throwing a bunch of clothes into his pack to last him who knows how long with ero-sennin. He was gonna get out of the village and learn a super awesome jutsu that even the bastard didn't know? No way he was gonna pass up on that!

He moved past his desk, but paused by the side drawer he'd left open a crack. He pulled it all the way open.

There was a half bottle of ink, some odd number of empty ramen flavor packets, and a neat stack of envelopes wrapped and tied with twine. He didn't know what they were or who they were all for, but the top one had the name Yuuhi Kurenai penned in Sakura-chan's handwriting, so it wasn't really his business.

"You're goin' on a mission, Sakura-chan? And you're a chuunin now too? That's so cool!"

"Mm." Sakura nodded once and watched in faint amusement as he inhaled his third cup of instant ramen. She lifted her own cup to her lips and finished off the rest of the soup. "Hey, will you do a favor for me?"

Naruto looked up, noodles dangling from his lips. "Fabur?"

"I need you to hold onto something." She reached into the pack by her side and pulled out a stack of envelopes to set on the table. He blinked at them and slurped up the rest of his meal. "We don't know how long we'll be one this mission, but in case anything happens, I want you to give these to whoever they're addressed to."

His brows knitted together. "In case anythin' happens?" he repeats. "Like... something bad? Sakura-chan, are you in trouble?"

Worry rumbled in his stomach and he knew it had to be that, 'cause it definitely wasn't the ramen. But then she gave him one of those reassuring smiles that made all his concerns melt like the pack of gummy bears he set out in the sun for too long.

Still, there was something that lingered at the very back of his mind. He ignored it.

"Not more than I usually am," she shrugged. "Think you can do that for me?"

"Uzumaki Naruto can do anything, 'ttebayo!" he shouted. Sakura snorted as the neighbor below them knocks their ceiling with a broom for the noise. "Oh yeah! I almost forgot!" he exclaimed, just a smidge quieter. He sprung to his feet and darted down the hall towards his room, his voice coming muffled through the thin walls. "I was gonna give you this but I forgot but you're goin' on that mission and all—it's good I remembered this time!" There was some shuffling and something clattered onto the floor. "Argh, where the hell did I... aha!"

He ran back and thrust a keychain into her hands.

"It's a good luck charm!" he grinned. "And since you've been teachin' me how ta' cook and stuff and you make all those breakfast bentos for us all the time, I saw this and thought it was good for like, for like a thank you! I know it's not much, but I hope you like it."

Sakura stared at the little green frog in her palm with its big white eyes and puffed out chest, and she held a fist to her mouth to try and hide her growing smile.

"It looks like you."

"HEY!"

Naruto shut the drawer.

Nothing bad was gonna happen to Sakura-chan or her team, so he probably didn't need to hand out those letters now—whatever they were for.

::

[1 MONTH; 3 DAYS; 11 HOURS; 24 MINUTES; 55 SECONDS]

Akamaru sat in the CEO's private rooms as she wrote out plans at her rich mahogany desk. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a bun that rested near the nape of her neck, held together with a simple elastic and decorated with a kushi and kogai.

'It's not as pretty as Sakura's bun,' he thought vehemently. 'And it won't ever be.'

A sake bottle was perched on her desk as well as a couple of ceramic cups, one of which she traced the rim with a finger.

"These mice are so strangely resilient, it's almost poetic," she mused, flipping through some papers on her desk. "Of course there's a few hiccups—Senbon being the barbarian he is and having to get drugged, but we've received generous tips from our patrons for such displays, so I'm disposed to a few more incidents like those."

What did it mean to hate someone?

Akamaru's hackles rose. His partner was drugged. They put their filthy hands on his partner?

The CEO chuckled when she heard the growl that emanated from his chest. "Didn't like that bit, did you?"

One second she was in her seat and the next she's towering above him, the sake bottle in her grip as she smashed it down over his head. Akamaru's jaw smacked against the ground from the sheer force of the blow and hunkered down by the metal harness.

His fur dripped in warm sake and ceramic shards. He didn't make a sound when he brought himself back up into a sitting position and glared her down, especially at the rectangular outline in her suit pocket.

She smirked, dropping the rest of the bottle on the floor and sashaying towards the door. "It's about time for lunch, isn't it, boy?" she crooned. "I'll have one of the guards bring up a fresh body."

When she left, he was drawn to the pile of bones—human bones—in the corner of the room, and shivered.

He knew the fur around his mouth was rust red and that he'll never forget the only taste he's been allowed for however long he'd been in this hell.

He wished he was down in that arena, not here.

He wished he didn't need to eat to survive.

And he wished the CEO had been just kind enough to cut off the heads of the bodies she forced on him so he wouldn't have known the faces of those that sated his crippling hunger.

::

Aoba happily dug into a bento box he picked up from a corner store as he sat on a bench on a hill overlooking the village. It was that time of day when it was clear out and silent; the sun high in the sky and resting birds cooing up in their high branches.

It was calm.

And every now and again by this time, Shino would be next to him, spouting out some random fact about either his work or insects that would leave him a little green and have to save his lunch for later. Not to be ungrateful for the information because it was always good to learn something new, but water strider mating habits? How to split open muscles with precise cuts? Rules for consensual amputation?

Shino was a good kid. He really was. But how he managed to talk about those types of things and eat at the same time would always have Aoba at a loss—though that sort of quirkiness was probably one of the reasons how he and Sakura got along so well.

Aoba took in another mouthful of his food and chewed. Shino had been making great strides in learning new jutsu, especially that stone needle technique that opened up a whole new path of interest.

Paralysis by chakra had been the basis of that technique and Shino had taken a shine to it like a moth to a flame.

He polished off his lunch and stood to toss the box in the nearest waste bin. After work, maybe he'd drop by the library and look up some more paralysis techniques Shino could learn.

He was sure Shino would be ecstatic when he got back.

::

[1 MONTH; 5 DAYS; 16 HOURS; 6 MINUTES; 8 SECONDS]

Kiba and Shino were at the bars as Sakura darted around the arena like some intricate dance. It was her eighteenth one of the week and she didn't hesitate to sign herself up for the excess matches so no one else had to.

Shino started to worry his bottom lip twenty minutes later when he realized she was making the fight longer than it needed to be.

"She's starting to enjoy them," he said. Kiba swallowed down some bile but didn't look away.

They'd been here a long time, but none of them had really changed. Even though he lost himself sometimes, even though Shino got nightmares, even though Sai never tried to rile them up anymore, nothing had changed. They were still four kids stuck in a cell and forced to kill.

And Sakura didn't change either. She didn't sleep as much as they did, but she was always there to ground them. She didn't smile as much as before, but she always had one for them if they needed it.

"Is that a bad thing?" Sai questioned as he washed up at the sink. The tap was bitter cold, but he was used to the numbness.

"Do you know when it is that a shinobi starts down a path they can no longer walk away from?" Shino asked in lieu of a response. When no one answered and a sickening crunch bounced out the arena, his fingers curled into his palms. "When the killing gets easier. Why? Because that's when you have to worry."

Kiba turned back to peer through the bars just as a spray of blood caught Sakura's face and her opponent collapsed at her feet, motionless. The audience cheers as wild as thunder and as she wiped her face, he spotted her vicious grin through her muzzle.

Sakura hadn't really changed.

But it was easy to forget just whose blood runs through her veins.

[1 MONTH; 1 WEEK; 1 DAY; 8 HOURS; 19 MINUTES]

Nezumi hadn't looked them in the eye when she pushed both Shino and Kiba into the arena. Her head was turned when she shut the door, and the usual cheers in the stands were substituted with curious murmurs.

"We're doin' a little somethin' somethin' different today, folks!" the announcer laughed from somewhere in the stadium. Kiba surveyed the space and found no one but the two of them. Where was their opponent? "These mice've lasted a long time, haven't they? Through thick and thin, through enemy after enemy, through most of the companies we've cycled 'round here. They're a real peach, huh, especially when they work together."

The crowd grew louder, interest raised.

"So what do you do when it's mouse against mouse?"

Shino and Kiba looked to each other, fear in their eyes.

No.

Excited cheers sounded off all around them.

Please, no.

"Nurse v. Senbon! To the death!"

"To the death! To the death! To the death!" started the chants.

It was like a nightmare he had, once. Shino liked to think he'd seen his fair share of horrors and learned more than enough secrets that weren't his own, but none of them really matched the absolute terror of being coerced into fighting one of the people he loved.

Kiba shakily reached into the pack of senbon at his hip. "Are we going to..."

"We'll be fine," Shino whispered. He took a few steps back to stand on one end of the arena and motioned Kiba to do the same. "Just fight. It will be like we're sparring. We'll be fine. Okay?"

Kiba drew in a deep breath and pulled out four senbon, one in the valley between each finger of his right hand. "Okay."

::

Sai blinked at the sheer amount of freezing anger that trickled out of every pore on Sakura's body.

It was the angriest he'd seen her. The angriest he'd seen anybody—and it was simply from the fact that the rest of her team were on opposite ends of a battlefield.

He wondered if she ever got tired of caring so much.

::

Akamaru tried to navigate through his red haze of anger, tense and filled with a fury he hadn't known before. His fur stood on end and his claws dug into the floor, and the smile the CEO donned as she gazed down at him only went to incense him further.

"Not enjoying the show, boy?" she questioned innocently. "Pity. I thought you'd like to see the fights after being cooped up in my rooms for so long." He didn't acknowledge her taunts. She laughed. "Tell me, who would you like to snack on next? Senbon or Nurse?"

He gnashed his teeth and prepared to lunge, but the sudden burning chakra slammed through the leash forced him to the ground, a high-pitched shriek the only thing that came out of his mouth for a full minute before the line cut and he slumped.

Satisfied by his punishment, she sat back and continued to watch the fight.

As Akamaru took a few moments to right himself on shaky legs, his eyes followed the CEO's hand as it moved into her suit pocket to pull out a little black remote with a dial and a couple of buttons. He rolled his head to get a better view through the railings, his heart falling at the sight. It was so obvious they didn't want to fight each other, because even if they bantered and argue all the time, they would never fight for real. They were pack and that meant everything.

But then the CEO pressed a button.

Shino took hold of a single senbon. Held it like a kunai.

And slashed—

She slammed the dial all the way to the left and Kiba's legs locked. He was frozen and he choked and he can't move as the senbon got closer and closer and closer and closer and clonononononoNO!

—across Kiba's throat.

Akamaru didn't stop screaming until the CEO called the match to an end.

::

"White Letters?" Iruka repeated. He leaned back in his chair to meet his coworker's considering face. "Aren't the use of those to be explained by genin sensei?"

"They are, usually," Suzume replied. She pushed her curly black hair out of her face. "I don't know about you, but sometimes I don't think the students quite understand the risks they're taking if they decide to climb the ranks." She pursed her lips and hummed. "I wouldn't call them naive, they're still students, but wouldn't you think that an early introduction to White Letters would ground them a bit more?"

He mulled over the idea. White Letters had always been an important, yet unspoken custom Konoha shinobi had adopted over the years.

Their concept was simple, at least.

1. If you go on a mission you don't know you'll get back from, sit down at a desk and write a letter to everyone important to you.

2. Seal it in a white envelope and write the recipient's name on the back in black ink.

3. Leave all the letters to one person you trust in the village.

4. If you die, your letters are distributed. If you don't, you get them back.

*5. Even if you don't get a mission that you may think is dangerous, it's always good to have written White Letters on hand. Just in case.

Iruka sighed. Even in their simplicity, there was a heavy undertone that needed to be addressed, and he wouldn't be surprised if the previous graduating classes had yet to have a clue on what White Letters were.

"Let's put it in the curriculum," he decided, and Suzume nodded and pulled out her lesson plan. "The students should know what they're getting themselves into."

He rolled his chair closer to his desk and back to the assignment he had to grade by tomorrow morning. When he grabbed his red pen, he accidentally knocked one of his notebooks open and onto the floor.

It was his seals journal. The one he and Kiba started not too long ago.

He flipped to the last written pages to re-read the latest equation he spent most of the night puzzling through, and he smiled.

When Kiba got back from his mission, he couldn't wait to show him the newest part of their theory.

::

Even Sai was rendered speechless at the display. Blood was spilling out Kiba's neck and Shino snapped out of whatever trance he'd gotten into at the sight as he dropped the senbon and horror dawned on his face.

He grew more pale by the second and he shook and he started to mumble to himself, stained hands tangling in his hair. He fell to his knees.

I can't see, I can't see, I can't see... his lips repeated, and Sai glanced over at Sakura.

She wasn't horrified. Or shocked or scared. But she was just as angry as she was when the match first started.

"Do you know first aid?" she asked plainly.

"It is required of me to perform the minimum," he replied, barely restraining himself from lifting a brow. "Thought I would say my abilities do not extend to raising the dead, nor does anyone else's."

"He's not dead."

Sai frowned.

Sakura jerked her head towards the bars. "Shino's prone to panic attacks," she said as the aforementioned was dragged out of the arena by a guard while Kiba was taken into Nezumi's arms. "And when he gets an attack, his body reacts and only furthers his panic even more. Blurred vision is one of the worse responses." The crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and boos when they realize no one had actually died. "He slashed Kiba's throat, but he didn't hit any carotid arteries. As long as the bleeding stops within the next hour he should be fine."

Her fingers flexed. Sai followed the movement.

"After I burn the muzzle," she said, "I'll kill the CEO."

The cell door opened and two bodies slumped in.

Shino was hyperventilating and sweating so much that his chain-mail shone with it. Kiba held his own neck so tightly that if he even thought to let go, just for a second, it might fall off.

Sakura ripped off a piece of the quilt and tossed it at Sai to help staunch the bleeding before he could work on stopping it. He was almost surprised to find that Sakura was right in her statement; the wound was shallow and it didn't seem as if any major arteries were cut.

"Remove your hands," he ordered. Kiba's unfocused gaze flickered to him, but he didn't move. If anything his hold tightened. Sai repeated himself. "Remove your hands or I will let you die."

Either too weak to keep them up or understanding the finality of those words, Kiba let his hands fall to his sides as Sai began to press the thick cloth against the wound. He wasn't as skilled as Shino with any sort of medical jutsu, and even then he didn't have the capability to siphon that short of chakra through the collar.

He turned towards the bed with the intention of tearing another quilt piece for some sort of makeshift bandage, but there was a roll of gauze by the crack of the cell door.

What?

Sakura sat Shino down on the ground and cupped her hands around his mouth, telling him to breathe slowly. There was no paper bag for him to use and he was too far gone in his panic to properly get his breathing down, but when he eventually—eventually—got it under control, he shoved his face into her shoulder and sobbed.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he mumbled fervently, and her hands clasped the back of his neck to hold him close and steady.

Just a few steps away, Sai silently bandaged Kiba's neck while the latter tried his damn best to stay awake.

Sakura's eyes shadowed over.

'We need to get out of here.'

[1 MONTH; 1 WEEK; 4 DAYS; 9 HOURS; 31 MINUTES; 46 SECONDS]

It had been three days and Shino still couldn't look Kiba in the eye. For breakfast they were served rice and stewed cabbage and they ate in the spot under the torch they'd long since claimed as their own. Sakura studied each and every one of the fighters that milled under the shade of night, her mind running a million kilometers a second.

They'd figured out four more companies over the last few days: Conejo Inc., Ajagar Unltd., Hisan I.E., and The Manuki Group. Each treated their fights in different ways and offered different rewards for different sets of kills, she'd overheard once when she walked through the halls at Nezumi's side.

Nezu and Co. gave their mice things like pillows and quilts.

If other companies had varied in their rewards, did that mean they could get weapons like chakra string or sharpened kunai?

Only one way to find out, she supposed.

Sakura promptly finished her plate and stood to dust the flecks of dirt on her spandex. Sai lifted his head and Kiba eyed her warily as she waited for a chance to move without the guards immediately taking notice.

"What're you doing?" Kiba questioned slowly. Her eyes seemed brighter in the low light.

"Follow my lead," was all she said, and when the guards faced each other to exchange a few words, she escaped the soft glow of the torch and melted into the shadows. They lost her for a moment but caught her some seconds later leaning beneath another torch on the other side of the arena. Beside her, a group of fighters were up in each other's faces.

"Push me again, asshole!"

"I didn't push shit!"

As the guards converged on them to quell them as quick as possible, Kiba gulped down his water and tossed his now empty cup in the air a couple of times. "Guess we're goin'."

He threw the tin cup as hard as he could into the back of someone's head.

Shino blinked himself out of his daze before he took his clean plate and bashed it into the back of a stranger's knees, sending them falling into two others that immediately shove them off and start to shout.

And Sai?

He walked up to a fighter wearing a blue leather collar with seal marks etched into the skin.

The fighter cocked a brow and glanced down. "You want something?"

Sai kicked in the side of his head.

An hour later and back in the cell, Kiba was face down on the bed drugged out of his mind, Sakura sat beside him with the muzzle latched firmly against her face, and Shino stitched the gaping wound in Sai's bicep as best he could with the thread from the quilt, a dull senbon, and his hands shackled with chains.

The bunch of explosive tags Sakura snagged from one fighter lay in the seam of her bra.

"We need to get out of here," Shino said after a full ten minutes of silence.

She couldn't agree more.

::

Kotetsu flopped against the table and groaned.

"We literally started this shift ten minutes ago," Izumo deadpanned.

"But it's already so boring!" whined Kotetsu. Gate duty was always a drag especially when the two of them worked the shifts three or four days a week. Though there was a rise in traffic and even more papers to stamp and sign, it was almost entirely for the contractors and material shipments that came to and from the village.

"Yeah, but you've never had this much of a problem before," his partner said with a roll of his eyes. "You're just cranky that Sakura's on that mission for like, six months, and you won't have anything to do after work anymore."

"Not true! I did stuff after work way before I even met her!"

"Sleeping on the couch for the rest of the day after eating three family-sized bags of chips doesn't count."

"Don't come for me like this."

Izumo snorted and propped his elbows on the table.

'Okay fine, so he kinda has a point,' Kotetsu pouted inwardly. If he and Sakura weren't out training after his shifts, they'd people watch on rooftops or scour the library for some obscure books that talked about making weapons from bones or something like that.

And he wasn't going to lie—having a student was nice. Even if that student was a weird brat that always managed to sneak up on him and probably had too many issues for him to unpack.

Still, she was his student. And no one had really given him the time of day for his skills before her.

"When she gets back I'm telling her you're a bitch," Kotetsu said.

Izumo shoved him off his chair.

::

[1 MONTH; 1 WEEK; 5 DAYS; 19 HOURS; 23 MINUTES; 30 SECONDS]

Kiba flicked a pebble across the dirt.

The walls around him were concrete and cold and he could almost feel it through his breastplate. He'd been here how long now? Twelve hours? Two days? No, it had to be at least a day and a half. Someone had come by with breakfast a couple hours ago and that had been his third meal since getting locked in.

He sighed and laid his head back against the wall. He'd been acting up a lot to try and get a good layout of the coliseum, but he guessed there was a thing called a "troublemaker" that meant "time in the block".

So what if that fight in the arena was his sixth offense? Did that really deserve four solid days in isolation?

No. He was a barbarian, wasn't he? If that was what they were gonna keep calling him, then that's what he was gonna keep acting like.

"Bastards," he mumbled. He hoped pack was alright. Sakura probably was; she was the only one to keep a level head that day his collar acted up and Shino almost killed him.

His hand came up to run a finger over the thin scar across his throat, and he winced. He hoped Shino was okay too—he didn't blame him for any of that. How was he one to talk about hurting pack? Two weeks into the whole coliseum bullshit he lost his damn mind in the cell and attacked them like some kind of monster.

And Akamaru...

He sighed again and dropped his head into his knees.

Then there was Sai.

Sai, who no longer insulted them. Sai, who jumped into the brawl.

Sai, who stopped the bleeding.

But he knew for a fact Sai wasn't a regular force shinobi that could for all intents and purposes be sent by Danzo himself, but they didn't know that for sure. There were still things they had to look for and other things they had to consider, but they'd set aside the Sai thing for after they found a way out of the coliseum.

He turned an unimpressed glance around the windowless room. Who even came up with the idea of isolation? It was a localized process, a block in a puzzle, a disruption in a network, a completely annoying—

Kiba suddenly flailed forward. "ISOLATION!"

The iron he was facing shook with the force of the fist that slammed into it from the other side.

"Shut the hell up!" the guard barked. "Or you'll be gettin' eight more hours in the block!"

Too excited to get offended, Kiba sat at the wall with blazing eyes and sharp grin.

Isolation. Why hadn't he thought of that before?

[1 MONTH; 2 WEEKS; 1 DAY; 12 HORUS; 29 MINUTES; 36 SECONDS]

When Nezumi came in to escort Sai to his fight, her face was blank.

Sakura almost immediately set herself on edge. Every single day without fail, Nezumi escorted them to their fights with an easy smile. Always one for conversation she'd sent them off with a well wishing or two, or maybe she'd ask how their meals were so she could send their compliments to the cranky chef who didn't see the need to use spices for prisoners.

But the person standing in the doorway wasn't the chipper moderator with friendly words for her charges.

It was the brander on the ship: impassive and aloof.

"There has been a change of plans," she informed them coolly. Her tone made the hairs at the back of Shino's next stand. "Snow, you are in need of a partner for this match. Choose one, or I will choose one for you."

Sai blinked, unsure of how to take the order. The partner he would choose depended on the type of match he expected to have. Kiba was a better pick for long range with his access to senbon, and either Shino or Sakura would—

"Hammerhead, come," Nezumi directed when no one replied came in the few seconds that passed. Once Sakura was within arms' reach, the muzzle was shoved on her face and the leather straps slapped onto her skin hard enough to leave a lingering sting.

"The fuck you think you're—" Kiba snarled, but both Sakura and Sai were yanked out the cell and the door slammed closed before he could spit his rage. Nezumi grabbed them both by the shoulders and pushed forward. Neither stumbled, but both exchanged a muted look as they were led to the arena in bleak silence.

They didn't even stop at the entrance. In fact, it was already open and they were once again pushed in before the doors promptly rolled shut behind them.

Someone was already in the arena.

Though his blue eyes were more tired than Naruto's would ever be, a certain emptiness rang through them that could have only been dug out by long, biting years. Red hair was gelled back against his scalp save for the short strands that flopped against his forehead, and the tomahawks in each hand were sharpened so thoroughly that it could cut air into two perfect halves.

Three clicks sounded just below Sakura's ear and suddenly chakra flooded her veins. It wasn't everything—not by a long shot—but it was buckets more than the mere slivers she'd siphoned to store just behind the brand on the back of her neck.

Three more clicks echoed to her right and Sai slid into a defensive stance, the tip of his tanto close to the ground. Some of his chakra was back too.

They were going to be allowed to fight with open channels?

"Good morning," their opponent intoned softly. He twirled one tomahawk. "They call me Ikati. I work for Nekojita Enterprises." He twirled the other. "I hope you will survive me."

It was then Sakura was struck with one, single fact.

Even though the stands are packed to the brim—

—the coliseum was as silent as the dead.

::

"What do I have to do to get you out of this cave?"

Kankuro didn't straighten from his hunch over his desk. Puppet limbs hung from the ceiling, wooden shavings scattered all around his feet, graphite smudged papers were pinned to the wall in front of him and crinkled beneath his elbows. Temari picked one up and smoothed out the wrinkles.

"Another design, huh," she remarked. She flipped the paper over, but there was nothing but eraser bits on the back. "Didn't think you'd get bored of Karasu so soon."

"I'm not, I just got this thing in my head. You know? I gotta get it out but I still don't know what to do..." After a few moments, he tossed his pencil to the side and leaned back to stretch his arms over his head with an irritated sigh. "I'll get there when I get there. Anyway, what do you want? You never come to my workshop unless you want something." He paused. "Or if you're hiding."

She hesitated, and he snapped his fingers in her direction as he faced her fully. "You're hiding! Alright, what'd the Board of Fuckwits say now?"

Temari rubbed her forehead and tugged over a low stool. She propped her fan against his work desk and took a seat. "The council's been badgering me about being Suna's ambassador."

"But you hate politics."

"Uh, yeah? Why do you think I passed up on being Kazekage?" She shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "But now they want an ambassador and they won't buzz off until I agree."

Suna was different in its government proceedings in that the Kage seat could only be taken by the blood relations of the First Kazekage. The passing down of position had been relatively easy until theirs when Rasa was the first of the family to have not one heir, but three, which led the council to scramble into planning which of them suited a Kage the best and what other positions they could stuff the rest of them into.

Gaara was determined to shoulder the responsibility of Godaime, leaving his older siblings with one last government-sanctioned item to fill: ambassador. Though it seemed like it had already been decided.

"I mean, I'd rather take up one of those Director positions that open up next year. Stay in Wind Country. But..." She shrugged tiredly. "Be glad they aren't up your ass about it."

She meant that as a comfort, but those words only made his jaw tick.

Again, nothing to expect of the middle child. Not that he wanted to be hounded by those dust-filled robes who always had their nose in the air and acted like tradition held them on a noose, but watching his siblings get yanked this way and that because of blood and rules and demons—it pissed him off. They shouldn't be forcing anything on anyone, tradition be damned.

They were lucky Temari wanted to stay in-village anyways. She was still the eldest out of the three of them and was head of the family; they needed her regardless if she took a government position or not.

Kankuro glanced at his cluttered desk. Traveling to different countries as Suna's representative sounded pretty cool, though. It'd get him away from the sand and the storms and the sweltering heat, and if he really studied up on it he'd probably know Wind Country's law practices like the back of his hand.

A small voice perked up from the back of his mind, sounding suspiciously like the shittiest Konoha tourist guide he'd ever met. 'So why don't you?'

He blinked. His claim on the position was just as strong as Temari's, and if she didn't want it, what stopped him from taking it?

"I'll do it," he said. "The ambassador thing. I'll take it," he clarified at his sister's confused frown. He turned to organize his blueprints, ignoring the chokes of surprise behind him. As he moved to grab his hood and set off towards the Tower, a hand wrapped around his wrist and jerked him back.

"What the hell brought this on?" she asked. "Just 'cause I don't want it doesn't mean—"

"It's not," he interrupted. "It's, well, maybe a little, but I wanna get outta here one day." Kankuro gestured to the space around them. "Didn't you barge in here wanting me to get out this cave, anyway?"

"Idiot, you know that's not what I meant!"

"But it's something I want to do." He pulled his hood onto his head, but before he could take another step towards the door, he was held back again. "What?"

"Give me a real reason," she demanded. But for all the edge she threw in her voice, her teal eyes filled with concern and his irritation slipped out in a rush.

He didn't tell her that sometimes he felt trapped in the walls of the village, or that sometimes he got so sick of the council and the elders and the way things were that he holed himself up at the workshop to pretend the rest of the world didn't exist.

So, he settled with the simplest explanation he had.

Kankuro's lips quirked. "I like sightseeing."

::

"They've never done a team-up against a single opponent," Shino whispered. His eye roved the area frantically—why was no one moving? What was happening? What was going on?

"It's too quiet in there," Kiba said. "Why the fuck is it so quiet?!"

A tomahawk was thrown and sliced the outside of Sai's thigh as he dodged and nearly took off Sakura's head when it circled around like a boomerang to land back in Ikati's hand.

Shino's stomach bottomed out immediately.

He grabbed the bars despite the electricity that started to course through him and yelled out the only thing that came to mind. "GET OUT OF THERE!"

Kiba yanked him away before the bars could fry his nerves.

::

Sakura heard Shino's scream, but she didn't take her eyes off Ikati. She imagined his beige scarf had been splattered with the blood of those who lasted too long at the coliseum; this was who they sent in to cull the competitors, who kept the stakes between the companies even. An equalizer. A reaper.

Her gaze dropped from his blank expression to the tomahawks in his hands, ignoring that one of them was already dripping red. With their shape and weight, there was no way it could've been thrown and returned in one motion without the use of an outside force, and that left her with one reasonable conclusion: he had to be controlling them with chakra strings or something of the like.

That, paired with...

"Wind Country?" she asked, cold sweat beading along her hair line.

His eyes slid over to her. "Sunagakure, if you want to be more specific." Her attention snapped back up to his face. "What gave me away?"

The kusari-fundo unfurled in her hands and she poised herself on her toes. She signaled Sai and hoped he understood. "Your hair."

She lunged just as another tomahawk soared her way.

Sai shunshinned to Ikati's side and drove a chakra-charged tanto through the space between his open hand and the airborne weapon in attempt to sever any chakra strings, but Ikati was faster. He swung the second axe towards the boy's head, and when that didn't land, his foot followed a millisecond after to drive his heel into his chest and sent him crashing onto the dirt floor.

The hilt of thrown tomahawk meets the palm of his hand just as a chain circled and wrapped his neck and a pair of legs locked around his shoulders. The butt of a tomahawk came up between the chain and his adam's apple before it could choke, but an elbow clocked him so hard in the side of the head that he faltered and the second tomahawk slipped from his hand.

Sai kicked it to the other side of the arena just as Sakura was grabbed by the bun and flung into him, her kusari-fundo ripped from her hands and left to dangle like an expensive necklace around Ikati's neck.

"You have lasted longer than many I have been asked to eliminate," Ikati said. His right index finger twitched and the tomahawk across the arena nestled back into his grip. He frowned, something troubled briefly floating through his eyes. "And you are all very young. You should not be here."

Sakura and Sai dodged in opposite directions when a blade crashed down between them.

Sai spun his tanto before blocking the next hit that nearly landed on his shoulder. Block, block, block, try to get at least one of those damned tomahawks off the strings—

Twist, duck, slice up.

He cut a deep gash from Ikati's chin to just below his left eye.

And the audience drew in a sharp, collective breath.

Two hands came up from the dirt and latched around Ikati's feet as two Sakuras rush each side with twin kicks to the face that he stopped with the axes, missing another Sakura that dove under at the same angle Sai had to send another kick under his chin that had him staggering when the hands at his feet let go.

Ikati raised a hand to smear his cheek and pulled back to inspect at the red that both coated his fingers steadily dripped onto the dirt. The flesh around it was mangled and ripped, and if the pain of blunt metal tearing skin set his face on fire, he didn't show it.

"Mice are not supposed to present a challenge. That is why you were taken in by Nezu and Co.." He glanced up at the stands. Nezu and Co.'s CEO wore a grin that couldn't grow any bigger while the dog at her side was as rigid as stone. Everyone else around her waited with bated breath. "If the match has not yet stopped, then I will be the only one leaving here today. Please do not make it hard on yourselves."

"I won't die here," Sakura seethed. All her clones disappeared in wisps of smoke, and he tilted his head.

"If that is what you believe," he turned to Sai, "then I will kill you first."

One Ikati turned to two.

The clone seized Sakura by the neck and slammed her so hard into one of the walls that blood shot out her mouth and she struggled to breathe—she was back in the water prison hold your breath you know you can you've been trained for this no he wouldn't the lightning was coming towards stopstopstopstopSTOPST—

A thundering roar split her throat as she planted both feet against the wall and propelled herself off, fist cocked then thrown at the clone's wide-eyed expression before it exploded into smoke and she fell onto her hands and knees and sucked in greedy gulps of air.

Half her hair had slipped from its tie and it was through her dirt-ridden tresses that she searched for Sai.

He was downed, one tomahawk stuck to the back of his left knee as Ikati loomed above him, the other tomahawk in his grip and ready to deal the final blow.

What did it mean to do what you thought was right?

Her body moved before her mind could catch up.

::

In the smaller villages, north of Suna, civilian populated, he remembered hearing of a god they worshiped; head of a jackal, body of a man; the protector of cemeteries, the dead; a judge before the afterlife.

He'd even visited once in his life back when things were easier, when his little sister was still little and hung on his arms and every word he said—a fresh-faced genin that graduated the Academy at eleven and begged to take her around those villages before she got too busy with her missions.

"And what missions are those?" a seventeen year old him teased as they weaved through the sand dunes that littered Wind Country. "Chasing pesky jackals out of graveyards? Watering the gardens so the hot air does not take them? Shaking the sand out of everyone's sandals?"

She giggled and bumped his side. "No way, Joui-nii! I'm a shinobi now and I'll get real missions, just like you!"

He smiled. "Of course, of course."

That had been over twenty years ago.

Before, when he still loved his village.

Before, when he still thought his parents had been killed on a routine mission and not that his own government had taken out one of their own just for the suspicion of treason.

Betraying them to the enemy, they'd told him, by selling them out to Kumogakure.

He didn't find out they were actually innocent until he was nineteen.

He was gone when he was twenty.

His little sister was only fourteen when he left.

"You have a mission?"

"... Something like that."

"And you'll be back home soon, right? Joui-nii?"

Her gray eyes always looked at him as if he were the moon, but maybe it was because he was the only family she could even clearly remember. For all the years he raised her, he couldn't stand it when she frowned, or fought, or cried.

So he ruffled her short, red hair, and lied. "I promise."

And what a promise he'd kept.

He roamed the countries since then, taking on odd jobs and cashing in on the International Bingo Book once every few months to keep him afloat but under the radar. He was in there too, somewhere in the C/B ranks, so not necessarily a notable face amongst the sea of the most wanted.

There were even those couple of years he spent in Amegakure when he grew tired of running, but there wasn't much for him there. The God and his Angel didn't care for the backgrounds of their people as long as there was no violence between them, and he was left unfulfilled once more.

He continued on his way just after a small group of genjutsu users had been slaughtered by the Monster of the Mist for some unknown reason, and he'd spent the next month in Grass Country where Nekojita Enterprises approached him with an offer: the title of Ikati.

"Why would I go with you?"

"You're a rogue with nowhere to go. Why would you not?"

Despite all that he tried to find a purpose outside of an entity who did nothing but harm for the "greater good", he fell back into it. Became what he denied.

The jackal-headed god was who he would have bowed to if he had to choose. But the god with curved snout and forked tail had claimed him instead; a god of chaos, of storms, of disorder, of violence, of a desert of red sands.

He didn't remember how many he'd killed.

He was lucky Nekojita didn't pull him out in the arena often. All he needed to do was cut down the expendables that were too strong, too swaying, the ones the crowd started to favor instead of the main attractions, and maybe some other god did smile for him when those types were few and far in between. Most of them didn't last more than two weeks, but those that did had been lucky until they met him.

When these two mice from Nezu and Co. had been shoved into the pit, he expected no different.

Then they lasted longer than twenty minutes.

Then before he could end the boy's life, the girl had thrown out her arm and he'd cut through that instead.

::

Sai didn't waste any time.

He wrenched the tomahawk from the back of his leg, pushed Sakura on the ground behind him, and slammed it across so hard it cut through Ikati's collarbone and stuck through his chest. Blood bubbled up past his lips and dribbled down his chin, but before he could even get out a cough the second tomahawk was ripped from his hands and he was tackled onto the dirt.

Sai held the weapon over his head, knuckles white as his hands tightened around the hilt.

But Ikati's mind was far off.

A smile.

A laugh.

A promise.

"Joui-nii!"

"Tell her..." he whispered. Sai wavered.

Ikati—Joui—wheezed a low breath. "... Tell her big brother is sorry... he did not come hom—"

Sai swung.

::

Shino almost wore a hole into the floor before the door opened and Sai hobbled through, holding Sakura up against him. Kiba caught them before they could fall and Shino tried to assess the damage as quick as he could without getting completely swamped by panic.

Sai: heavy bleeding from the left leg, in need of a tourniquet, minor cuts and bruises, possible sprains or fractures, no apparent bone breaks.

Sakura: minor cuts, bruises around neck, left arm severed from the elbow down.

"Holy shit," Kiba mumbled. "Holy shit. Holy shit."

Sakura drifted in and out of consciousness through all her pain and exhaustion and Sai panted on the ground beside her, too fatigued and incapacitated to move. Three clicks sounded off from each of their collars and all the chakra they might have had left sealed back in a heartbeat, sending them further down their spiral. Sai slouched against Kiba's side and Sakura went limp.

Kiba wasn't one for much first aid, but he'd listened to Shino long enough to know he had to cut off Sai's pant leg for better access to the wound while the other fussed over Sakura's arm, or at least what was left of it.

... God, that was so fucked up to think.

"We need to get out of here." His voice cracked. "We need to get the hell out of here." His eyes tore around the room for something, anything to try and fix this—

But the cell was still open and Nezumi stood in the doorway. Her brows were pinched as she wordlessly left a full medical kit at the foot of the bed, much to Shino and Kiba's wary confusion.

She left, shutting the door softly behind her.

::

Part of an arm was thrown down in front of him.

"Dinner," the CEO smiled. "Aren't you hungry?"

Her laugh followed her as she stepped out of the room, leaving Akamaru to stare at the pale, bloodied limb. The pads on the hand were calloused by the wear of katana hilts and open punches and the forearm was covered with tiny nicks and scars from kunai and shuriken, from practices on the Konoha grounds overgrown in thicket, gnarled trees, thorned flowers.

He knew that arm because its hand scratched him behind the ears and held him when he was scared.

Akamaru whined and scooted back until he was pressed up against a far corner.

He tried not to throw up.

[1 MONTH; 2 WEEKS; 2 DAYS; 5 HOURS; 50 MINUTES; 59 SECONDS]

Sai sat on the edge of the bed, moonlight pouring through the bars. He was careful not to put any weight on his left leg as he stared down at the piece of scrap paper in his lap.

It was blank.

And it dawned on him that never before had he let a canvas sit empty for so long. He'd never been at a loss of what to make.

-Do not overthink. You know what you are here to do. Do not overthink.-

He dipped the frayed brush into the inkwell and slipped off the excess on the lip of the bottle.

Why did Foreigner jump in front of him like that? She never liked him from the start and letting him die would solve all the problems that would inevitably come; they would have saved themselves if they had just let him die.

But no. She'd sacrificed her arm. For him.

-You are a tool. You are a pawn. You do not have a name.-

Didn't swordsmen need both their arms to fight?

He held the brush in the air for too long and single drop splattered onto the page. It shone oddly red in the pale light, and he had to blink a few times before it was suddenly just as black as it was in the bottle.

Was he seeing things now?

Sai crumpled the page and stuck the brush back in the inkwell before setting them all on the floor and glancing left.

Shino was out cold and so was Sakura, and Kiba had only fallen into a fitful sleep ten or fifteen minutes before. He wondered if this was the resilience they had spoken of, if getting stronger here meant killing instead of getting killed.

He wondered if this was survival, because it didn't feel like it.

-You work alone.-

What did it mean to change?

He pressed a couple fingers to his eyes and took a deep breath.

'We need to get out of here.'

::

"—meet with Sasuke."

Itachi's finger twitched as those words washed him over. Kisame followed the movement before glancing outside the dango shop they'd decided to stop by and spied the lower body of a shinobi on the left side of the entrance who casually conversed with the two others on the right side, and instantly he knew it was a play. A couple of foreigners in strange cloaks just havin' a break in a small Konoha shop during one of the village's weakest moments? It was weird enough and downright suspicious; he was just surprised it took someone this long to notice.

He refrained from rolling his eyes. 'Seriously, if Konoha's not gonna do somethin' 'bout their security, I will.'

"Huh. It's pretty rare for you to wait for people," a deeper voice said. "Is the offering for Obito?"

"I think Tenzo-san mentioned an Obito once," a higher tone commented. Kisame shifted, ignoring the questioning glance his partner sent his way.

He knew that voice. Unfortunately for him, he was able to match it with the face he'd seen back during the preliminaries of the Chuunin Exams, and it belonged to the someone who hovered protectively over Inuzuka Kiba, Aburame Shino, and Pup.

He set his cup down, shared a nod with Itachi, and they shunshinned knowing fully well what, or who, was to follow.

If blood was gonna spill, he guessed he'd have to keep Pup's sensei out of the way.

::

[1 MONTH; 2 WEEKS; 6 DAYS; 10 HOURS; 56 MINUTES; 34 SECONDS]

Akamaru flexed his jaw in the show of a yawn, but he was testing the give of the head halter. He could open his mouth quite a bit, probably enough to get a good bite or two in. Part of his snout was rubbed raw from the metal and some of his fur had fallen off where sores came to life, but he could manage.

He side-eyed the CEO and her delighted face at the fight below. None of pack had gone out yet, but if she was here it meant they'd be out soon. Maybe in a few matches.

He'd do it today.

[1 MONTH; 2 WEEKS; 6 DAYS; 11 HOURS; 5 MINUTES; 27 SECONDS]

Her hand hovered over her pocket six times.

He tried not to bare his teeth in his impatience. This needed to be done right, or he'd die before he got them out.

[1 MONTH; 2 WEEKS; 6 DAYS; 11 HOURS; 14 MINUTES; 49 SECONDS]

Akamaru tried not to jerk at the sensation of small, wiry legs crawling along the inside of his ear. They were restless, anxious, probably just like Shino was down in that cell.

'Hold on,' he thought. 'Just a little bit more.'

[1 MONTH; 2 WEEKS; 6 DAYS; 11 HOURS; 22 MINUTES; 4 SECONDS]

The CEO's hand reached into her suit pocket.

[1 MONTH; 2 WEEKS; 6 DAYS; 11 HOURS; 22 MINUTES; 39 SECONDS]

The remote was the same black, rectangular box. A couple of buttons, one dial.

[1 MONTH; 2 WEEKS; 6 DAYS; 11 HOURS; 22 MINUTES; 51 SECONDS]

Her right hand rested on the rail and the remote played between her fingers.

He was on her left side.

He'd have to be quick.

[1 MONTH; 2 WEEKS; 6 DAYS; 11 HOURS; 23 MINUTES; 16 SECONDS]

The sun sat high in the sky.

[1 MONTH; 2 WEEKS; 6 DAYS; 11 HOURS; 23 MINUTES; 22 SECONDS]

It was October, he thought.

[1 MONTH; 2 WEEKS; 6 DAYS; 11 HOURS; 23 MINUTES; 37 SECONDS]

If they were still in Konoha, maybe pack would go out for a picnic.

[1 MONTH; 2 WEEKS; 6 DAYS; 11 HOURS; 23 MINUTES; 40 SECONDS]

But Shino's kikai buzzed in his ear.

[1 MONTH; 2 WEEKS; 6 DAYS; 11 HOURS; 23 MINUTES; 58 SECONDS]

And he was across the CEO's lap, his jaw unhinged as wide as could as he took both her hand the remote into his mouth and crunched down, blood and bone and plastic overflowing his mouth before being thrown into the railing. He fell onto the next floor down, his hind leg echoing with a soft crack.

Some of the crowd stumbled to the side and away from the scene, ducking at the scream that tumbled from the CEO as she cradled her mutilated hand. Viscous red spewed from her puncture wounds and broken bits of the remote dug itself into the muscle.

"You—You fucking MONGREL!" she shrieked. "I SHOULD'VE HAD THEM KILL YOU ON THAT FUCKING SHIP!"

But before she could pull out a kunai from the inside of her jacket and bash in his skill like she should've done in the first place, an explosion rocked the north side of the coliseum and plumes of smoke curled up towards the sky.

"It's—It's not smoke!" somebody from the frenzied crowd shouted. "They're—they look like—it's bugs!"

The CEO's enraged gaze snapped around the arena, at the shouting and stumbling patrons and at the insects that suddenly swarmed overhead and targeted the other big bosses of the other companies.

"Hey."

She startled and turned to the railing.

Hammerhead stood tall, the sun behind her completely shadowing her front as she held the strap of a smoldering piece of metal and leather in one hand and the other arm still by her side, a testament to the fact the only thing the coliseum had done was take, take, take.

Now, it was her turn.

"I said after I burned my muzzle, I'd kill you." She tossed the blackened scrap to the ground. "One down, one to go."

Sakura leapt forward and tore out the CEO's neck. She didn't care for the blood that slicked her fingers or the way the woman's body fell back to sprawl awkwardly against the metal stands. She didn't spare a second glance at the body as she touched down on the next level down and crouched by Akamaru, sparing a small smile at the way his tail thumped against the concrete despite his position.

"Sorry we took so long," she said. She eased off the halter and snapped the locks off the harness to heft it off and chuck it to the side. Akamaru immediately pulled himself forward and smothered her face with licks. "Does that mean we're forgiven?"

He barked. She took that as a yes.

Her arm took him by the middle and pulled him close, and she only lumbered off-balance once when she got up to her feet.

She missed Akamaru's faltering look at the sight of the arm that couldn't help carry him, and he held in a whimper.

::

Kiba kicked in another cell and was met with the surprised jumps of two people huddle on the cot inside. Their collars were brass with a light blinking below their right ears, and he flashed them an easy grin as he left the door open and continued down the hallway.

"That was like, what, the ninth cell we opened?" he asked. "Where the hell's our stuff at?!"

Sai unlocked another metal door to push open, that one also occupied by another bunch of fighters. He didn't need the theatrics of kicking them open like some people. "The Collection Room should be in this section of the coliseum if we have been gathering our information correctly." On his neck was a stripe of where his collar used to be, strangely pale against the slight tan on the rest of his skin. "If this is the cell block, perhaps it's at the end of the hall. It would make the most sense."

Two guards rushed around the corner.

Kiba's claws were out and ready to tear down the next person that got in their way, and Sai is bowed forward and ready to pounce. But only after two full steps into the hallway, both guards lurched and careened downwards, a kunai through the back of each head.

Nezumi emerged from the shadows, and Kiba's jaw dropped.

"Uh, hello?!" he sputtered. "What the hell's that?! You're on our side?!"

"I am on no one's side. You simply broke out of your cell all on your own and are causing pandemonium all over the coliseum." She smiled as another explosion went off somewhere at the east end. "As I have said at your arrival, I have no affiliation with Nezu and Co., and I am only here for the entertainment. You mean to tell me that all of this is not exciting?"

She reached into her heavy tunic and retrieved a bundle of familiar scrolls as well as one lined with red and bound to a brush and a cylinder of ink. Kiba recognized the seal work on the scrolls in the bundle—it was the ones he crafted himself. He balked.

"Why the fuck d'you have those?!"

"Nezu and Co. could not break through the seals so they were given to me to throw out, but I had decided to keep them instead." She extended them like an offering, unsurprised that none of them approached. "You have been looking for these too, yes?"

Kiba hesitated. Maybe Nezumi had been kind to them since after they forced the brand, but what if this was a trap that could get them thrown into one more cell? Another month of cutting down others so they wouldn't get cut down themselves?

Sai merely stood with no expression, his tanto leveled to deal a quick blow.

She chuckled. "So distrusting. That is a good trait to have." She tossed the scrolls their way and held up her hands in a show of good faith.

There was another explosion far off and another bout of shouting. They don't know how much time they had left, but they did know it wasn't much and this was the only chance they were going to get.

So Sai knelt down and opened the red scroll for as far as the hallway allowed him. He dipped his brush in ink and, in a flow and charisma Kiba had never seen on him before, painted out six imperial guard lions without lifting his hand. But the moment he did, all six lions sprung from the paper and took shape in thin air, gaining both the size and form an actual lion would.

Kiba was so stunned his jaw dropped. "... Whoa."

"Attach the rest of your paper bombs onto their backs," Sai said. "They will continue to destroy the coliseum as well as the surrounding buildings and guard detail we might encounter once we complete our escape."

And for the first time since Sai's appointment as Team Eight's temporary team leader, Kiba listened.

Nezumi watched the ink beasts bolt down the halls into both the arena and the streets with distant interest. Now, wasn't that something? Senbon and Snow White had their quirks in the pit, but one had actually been a seals expert and the other an artist; had she still been their handler and learned this far beforehand and made them resident fighters instead of opening acts...

... well, there was no way of knowing what would have happened if she had. She could always imagine the fallout of such a discovery on her own time.

She smiled at them. "You say you are looking for the Collection Room?"

::

Shino's perch up on the coliseum wall granted him a view of both the arena and the stands and his colony reveled in the first real freedom they had in over a month. He'd assigned certain insects to carry paralytic chakra as they swarmed and ordered them to target CEOs and latch on to the backs of their necks, pumping through his warped medical chakra that seized their nerves and froze their muscles.

For every CEO they paralyzed he appeared at their side like an omen, searching their bodies for remotes or anything related to the collars of their fighters and cast them into the surrounding flames.

Then, he sent a burst of chakra through their systems to stop their hearts.

He was wasting chakra here, filling his kikai with most of everything he had and using the rest for clean kills. It'll hurt him later, he knew, when he would need a week to recover from the impending exhaustion.

But enough blood had been spilled by his hand. This was the least he could do.

"How many have you gotten to?"

"Ten were in attendance when our collars deactivated and this body is the last of them. The other three are somewhere on the island—hiding by now, I'm sure," he answered. Sakura appeared at his side with Akamaru in her hold, and he frowned at the dog's disfigured back leg. "That's not a clean break."

"CEO threw him off the railing."

His lips twisted in disgust, but it was quickly wiped away when Akamaru happily greeted him with more than a handful of licks to the face. He petted his head and took careful note of the sores and skin rubbed raw. "She's dead?"

"I have some of her larynx under my fingernails."

"Good." He surveyed the now-emptied coliseum and listened to the sound of explosions off in the distance. He cocked his head. "If the destruction has made it past these walls, then the others have succeeded in recovering our belongings."

Sakura nodded. "The meeting point should still be at the main entrance. Let's go, I don't want to keep them waiting if they're already there."

Akamaru tipped at an odd angle in her grip, but she clenched her jaw and righted him back to a comfortable position even though it had her elbow jut out.

Shino opened his mouth to tell her it would be easier for him to hold their teammate instead, but he shut his mouth and pretended he hadn't seen her struggle. She would only hate him if he started to treat her any different because of what happened.

But if she noticed that the ring of kikai around them tightened their guard, she didn't say anything.

::

The second Kiba saw his thick gray jacket hanging up on one of the walls, he almost cried. He didn't think he could miss clothes as much as he did now, but seeing that fur-lined hood meant no more breastplate, no more cingulum armor, no more trying to fight to the death like the gladiators in the movies pack sometimes watched late at night after training out all day in the scorching Konoha sun.

He threw off everything Nezu and Co. forced him to wear and quickly pulled on his mesh armor, his torso armor, and stuffed all of pack's scrolls into the hidden pockets in his jacket before he flung it on and zipped it all the way up to the middle of his chest.

Dust swirled up into his nose and he sneezed a few times as he tugged on his pants and raided the rest of the room.

Sakura's and Shino's clothes, check, throw them in a spare bag and hoist it over his shoulder. Katana, check, sling it around his hip. Poison kit, check, wind it around his waist. Kunai pouches, one, two, three, check.

Hitai-ates, one, two, three.

Pause.

Kiba saw them lined up on a table with a bunch of other hitai-ates from different nations and divided by symbol and cloth color. He could leave them, make up some story about them being taken when they got back and get issued new ones that didn't hold the same weight the old ones did. They'd be easier to cast aside if they wanted to, too.

But Sai was in the room.

He shoved them in the bag and hoped he forgot about them when they fell to the bottom.

He spun on his heel. "You find your stuff?"

Sai was in the midst of slipping his tanto in the sheath on his lower back and clasping his ink and scroll at his side. His chest plate was tossed aside. "Everything is in order."

"Then lemme sniff out the hallway real quick. I'll give an all clear an' we can find Sakura and Shino."

He darted out the door, and Sai's gaze roamed to a silent Nezumi standing at the weapons' wall. It boasted a selection from swords to fans to knives and was mounted in a way that looked like a viewing display rather than a rack for use. There were more weapons there than there were number of fighters, and it was no stretch of the imagination to think that nearly half of those belonged to the dead.

She stared at them all for a beat before she picked up a set of weapons on the far right and tucked them at her side.

His brow furrowed slightly.

Kiba stuck his head back into the room, a light spray of blood across his forehead. "There was one dude, but I got it. Let's go 'fore other fuckers come down!"

Shino and Sakura were already crouched by the coliseum entrance, and a sweeping relief flooded Kiba over at the sight of them unharmed. And, once he spotted dirtied white fur in Sakura's arm, something else entirely overcame him.

His jog turned into a mad dash, and he swept Akamaru into his own arms, pulled him close, and buried his face in his partner's neck as a whine rang in his ears and Akamaru pushed to snuggle as close to him as possible.

"Hey, boy," he sniffed. "You look like shit."

Sakura didn't show her relief of the extra weight taken away from her as she dug her heels into the floor and regained her balance. Kiba and Akamaru were reunited, what else did she have to worry about? They were both safe, everyone was here, she had no right to be concerned over anything anymore.

She plucked her katana from her friend's hip and slung it over her shoulder. The now familiar feel of her pauldrons had been used to the point of heavy wear, the leather molding to her shoulders and the straps digging permanent marks into her chest and upper back.

She didn't keep the muzzle, but maybe she'd keep this.

When Kiba finally looked up to take in the island he never got to see outside the coliseum walls, he flinched so badly he almost dropped Akamaru.

All the buildings were, for lack of a better term, ravaged. A number of new ink lions were on the roads, roofs, crashing through windows and setting off random explosions. The fighters whose collars had come off were taking slaves out of love hotels, setting their jutsu on forgeries and the opium den, freeing exotic animals chained up for exhibition or boxed in to be smuggled.

"... Damn," he muttered.

"I assume you would also like safe passage away from this place?"

All four of them—Shino, Sakura, Kiba, Sai—snapped from their stupor and turned to the voice. Nezumi had her hood over her head, most of her red hair covered by white cloth and her eyes smiling from its shadows. Sakura's hand landed on the hilt of her sword and Shino's colony coiled around his arms, but they held back when Kiba stepped up.

"You can get us outta here?"

She jerked her head to the side. "Come. Before they completely take the island."

Kiba was the first to follow, then Sai, and Sakura nudged Shino after them as she took up the rear and they all crept through some back passage squished between buildings until their sandals landed into the putrid water of an underground sewer that emptied out into the ocean.

Splish, splish, splish.

At the end of the open-mouthed pipe lay a single boat with a motor and a woman sat on its edge, a cigarette in her mouth and her eyes to the smoke billowing into bright skies.

She tapped some ash into the water when they met the lip of the pipe. "This the last shipment?"

Sakura rounded on Nezumi. "Shipment?"

"To the mainland. North-Northwest," she said as if that explained everything. She nodded once at the Captain, and the Captain flicked her cigarette butt out to sea as she hopped back onto her boat. "After that, you are on your own. I trust that you are capable."

Sakura narrowed her eyes.

"For what? Getting captured by another illegal fight ring waiting for us when we land?" Shino sneered. "I don't believe you would give us up so easily. Why? Because you would not have wasted your time capturing us only to let us go."

"I dunno. I think we should do it," Kiba offered. All eyes landed on him, and he shrugged off the look on Shino's face. "Think about it. We don't got a lotta options and I don't wanna swim all the way back to the nearest island that's probably, like, a day away by ship. Plus, Oosuna literally helped us get outta there. Why would she waste her time?"

Shino sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had a point.

"Why North-Northwest?" Sai questioned. A motor revved up behind him.

"You cannot retake the path that you took here or journey west; kidnappers still litter those islands and once they learn of what happened here, will either cut their losses or act in retaliation. Either way, they are to be avoided." The Captain makes a motion for her to speed it up, and Nezumi ushered them towards the boat. "You will be taken to Lightning Country. As long as you avoid the Kumogakure Border Patrol, you can travel the mainland back to your country. That is your safest course of action."

Sakura made sure each of her team was safely on deck before lifting herself up with her one hand and swung her legs over the side. Not once had her burning green gaze left Nezumi, much to the latter's glee at the genuine intimidation she didn't think could out come out of one with pink hair.

"If you're lying to us—"

"—then you will kill me," Nezumi completed. Her lips quirked. "Yes, I had seen your work every time you were in the pit, Hammerhead. If you find out I have lied to you, then you have my full permission to end my life."

The boat pulled away shortly after, and she waved at the intense stares that never left her until they were too far to see.

"May we never see each other so soon," she bid, a backdrop of smoke and fire in her wake.

(When they would see each other next would be a matter of opinion of how soon it truly was.)

::

Baki rubbed his forehead as he exited the conference room from the third advisory council meeting of the day. What Kankuro had come forward with just a few days prior had thrown the older council members in such a loop they had to rewrite every single one of their plans, roping him into it and making him sit through the process. While he knew his student was capable of much, he hadn't thought he had the maturity to take a higher governmental position so soon, much less one as an ambassador.

And though he was grateful Kankuro finally took some initiative, he wished he'd done it with more tact than walking into the middle of a meeting with Temari running after him and declaring 'Put me down as ambassador or I'm leaving.'

"Ah, the face of a tired councilman," someone mused. "It's like I have told you before: make sure to have at least ten pain relieving pills on your person at all times or else you will be regretting the moment you had awoken for the day. Did you not think my warnings true?"

He blinked in surprise and turned. "Nezumi-senpai?" Nezumi approached him, and they grasped each other's forearms in greeting. "I didn't know you'd be back. How was your reconnaissance on Koinobori Island? Have you eliminated the trade ring and its patrons?"

To his curiosity, the corner of her eyes crinkled and she smothers a bout of laughter. That definitely wasn't a face the mission reporting desk would be happy to see. "Not at all. I would say that I had failed nearly every aspect of what I was assigned," she grinned. Baki's eyes bugged out his head. Oosuna Nezumi was one of Suna's top undercover operatives with a 0% fail rate on such assignments since her ascension to special forces. "A group of Konoha shinobi had themselves captured by the company I had infiltrated. Earlier this week, they blew up the island and freed the fighters; they had completed two years of my work in a month and a half, and I am much too impressed to be upset."

"W-We're in peace talks with Konoha at the moment. I suppose it's a good thing you have such a high opinion of them...?" he tried, but the ease he vied for can't help but be shadowed by his disbelief.

'What is it with Konoha and their ridiculous shinobi?'

"Well then, I suppose I am here at the right time!" She leaned against one of the windows and stared out at the village he held so dearly to her heart. "I am in their debt, but now I can at least return the children I smuggled out back to Nagi Island and wherever else they had been taken from. There is no longer a need to hide them in the northern villages."

The smuggling had been a bit more difficult. She had to be creative in the ways she could fake their deaths, but she couldn't go as far as to say she saved every single one of them.

She did what she could, and she hoped that was enough.

"I'll get you permission to start that project as soon as possible," Baki said, making a mental note to stop by the mission desks later that day. He frowned. "But really? A squad of Konoha-nin derailed your entire operation?"

"While killing nearly all the CEOs of the zodiac companies. And they were not officially higher than chuunin status, I am led to think," she added. The way his face scrunched up like she just made the world's worst joke had her laughing from deep within her belly. "It's hard to believe, is it not? I would have been skeptical myself had I not seen them everyday for all that month and a half." She smirked. "They are... fascinating children. How they think, how they work, how they made it through—it was most unusual. They reminded me of..."

She trailed off and shook her head, and Baki raised a brow. "For you to even allude to him like you did... those Konoha-nin must have been remarkable."

"They were quite a bit more than that, if I am to be completely honest." Outside, a sandstorm started to brew. "But I think I will keep them to myself."

"What? Nezumi-senpai, you have to report—"

"If the council wants to read the three-hundred page compilation of my two years in that place, then they are free to do so," she interrupted. She pushed herself off the window and flashed him a smile that sent beads of sweat running down the back of his neck. "But what they will not notice is the omission that four children and a nin-dog had leveled the playing field with collars around their necks and brains bigger than what they should have." She met his eye, and he couldn't bring himself to look away. "Right, Baki-san?"

He pressed his lips together. He and Nezumi had been comrades for a long time, back when Rasa hadn't locked his heart away and back even further when he was still around and taught them both how to throw kunai with the accuracy every Suna shinobi should beholden to.

It would take far more than this for him to turn his back on her.

"Right."

She smiled. "Then I will leave you to take a break from your meeting. At least, until your next one." She adjusted the hood over her head and threw up a lazy wave as she made her way down the hall. "Let me know when I can return to the northern villages."

Nezumi left the Tower and embarked into the raging sand blizzard: a chaos, a storm, a disorder, a violence, a desert covered red.

(When she gets home, she would approach an open space on her wall and immediately set up a mount where she would hike up two tomahawks, one crossed over the other, steel rusted from blood and edges dulled since their last blows.

She would sit on her couch with a cup of tea in her hands and her apartment covered in dust.

Beside the tomahawks would be the only picture she had put up; one of her, an eleven year old genin who had just graduated from the Academy, held up by her older brother with deep blue eyes and hair just as fiery as hers.

"... Ah," she would say when the sands died down and the stars twinkled without a buffer to be seen. "I hadn't thanked Snow for what he'd done for Joui-nii.")

::

-You have not forgotten, have you?-

The first thing Sai did when they touched down on land was release a horde of ink mice into the sprawling forest.

Sakura eyed them as their thin black tails wriggled after them as they scampered in every which way. She had to admit they were a great addition to the surveying Shino's kikai usually did, but with the chakra depletion he was suffering after the coliseum, it would be a while until he could even send his whole swarm out his body.

"We need to find shelter, find food, rest, and return to Konoha as quickly as possible," Sai said. The trees here were taller and darker and cast a gray veil over them and all the paths they could take. It was cold. "In the morning, we'll find the nearest village and determine where in Lightning Country we are."

"And the mice?" Sakura inquired.

"Will mark a perimeter and take note of any of the Kumogakure Border Patrol that may pass by," he answered. He inclined his head towards the deeper thicket of the forest. "Scout for a suitable place for us to rest for the night and to build a fire. The temperatures this far north this time of year are not ideal."

He tensed when Kiba came up beside him, though his wariness melted into bewilderment when their shoulders bumped lightly and Akamaru trotted nearby on his freshly healed leg, his muzzle in some lopsided smile. "You're pretty alright," Kiba grinned. "Y'know, for an asshole."

He smiled, and it wasn't as stiff and wrong and disfiguring as the ones he gave when they first met. "Is that so, Mutt?"

"Aaaaand there it is," Kiba groaned. He ran a hand over his face, but the impish grin still tugged at his mouth. "Great ta' have that back, dickhead. And—hey! How come you didn' do that cool shit with your art an' stuff before? We coulda', like, done way more shit if you weren't some la—"

"Kiba." Shino's hands were tucked in the pockets of his green coat and Sakura was nowhere to be seen, probably out to find a good place to settle when it got dark. "If you have the energy to run your mouth, you have the energy to find good kindling for a fire. Why? Because while the former isn't productive, the latter is."

"Is this what we're gonna do? We're gonna fight?"

"If you don't move, then yes. We will."

"Comin' from the guy standin' there lookin' pretty!"

"While I do appreciate your comments on my appeal—"

"—that's not what I fuckin' meant and you know it—"

"—and yet your mouth continues to run—"

—catch these GODDAMN HANDS—"

"There's a small clearing with a heavy canopy cover a few minutes out." Sakura walked up to Sai's side, pulling him away from staring blankly at the argument that suddenly erupted before him. "We can set up a few traps, maybe a low-level genjutsu that can buy us some time if we get caught."

Akamaru peered up at him from his spot against her leg, and he refused to shrink under such an acute gaze. From a canine, no less.

"Why is he... staring at me like that?"

She pet Akamaru's head a few times and his tail wagged furiously. "He thought your lions were cool and wanted to thank you for everything you've done."

Kiba started to wave his arms and point angrily while Shino's head was as cool as ever, though one cheek twitched every now and again. Their voices steadily grew louder, and Sakura rolled her eyes.

"Come on, senpai," she said. "Let's get set up."

She passed right in the middle of her bickering teammates and smacked her hand into Kiba's face to drag him along, effectively ending the fight and ignoring the whines that came from her captive's squished cheeks.

It took a second for Sai to realize he wanted smile, unprompted by conversation.

And he immediately squashed the feeling.

-You know what you are.-

-You know what you are here to do.-

-Don't tell me you have grown attached.-

When night fell and the fire burned full, Sai reigned in his surprise as Kiba plopped down across from him and leaned in above the flame, eyes brimming with curiosity and a genuine smile on his lips.

"So anythin' you draw on that scroll jumps out like that? Like, is it the ink or the paper? Are there seals? Does the ink gotta be special?"

... No one had asked him about his jutsu before. It was the specialization he'd been assigned and the one he'd cultivated over the years. It wasn't anything special, nothing notable, and what anyone ever cared about was what it could do, not what had to be done to get there.

He ducked his head slightly to avert his eyes. "The ink is chakra-enhanced and there are multiple seals between the blank sheet and the outer lining," he tried to explain as vaguely as possible, but Kiba's eyes grew impossibly wide at the mention of seals.

"What kinda sequences you got on the scroll? S'there an illustrious or numerical matrix? Or didja find a way t'make an illustrious-geometrical that doesn't violate Akagi's margin rule?"

"I... am not inclined to the specifics of the seals implanted in the scroll."

"Not allota people are." He bounced in his seat and Akamaru laid curled up at his feet, tracing the embers that fluttered into the cool air. "Hey, when we get back, can I take a look at it? I swear I won't fuck it up or anythin', but I wanna see what kinda releases there are that projects your art like that 'cause its pretty damn awesome."

"Are the designs of your own making?" Sakura questioned from his right. One of Kiba's spare coats he had in a scroll was draped over her shoulders, and she hid her amputated limb in its depths, leaving her left side wide open.

"They are."

Shino hummed. "You're good."

-Do not lose your head.-

Sai slowly unclipped the scroll from his belt and unfurled it across his lap. The others watched in mild fascination as he drew a handful of snakes that erupted from the paper and slithered along the forest floor. They were bigger than coral snakes but smaller than the ones that could be found all over Earth Country, and when they picked up their little ink heads to tilt them at rocks and sticks, the corner of Shino's lips quirked.

"Are they always animals?"

"Most of them." He painted another lion that shot from the scroll and prowled around to take a seat just behind Kiba who turned to gape at how absolutely cool it was. "They are the most versatile in battle."

-Remember.-

As he pressed his brush against paper one more time, he was stopped when Shino's head jerked up and he faced something off to the far west in the darkness and the shroud of prickling leaves. A couple insects crawl over the side of his face—they were only some not out of commission, maybe a few tens that helped Sai's mice stand watch.

The buzzing was loud enough for all of them to hear.

"A group is coming. Kumogakure Border Patrol."

His kikai had never been so loud before.

What did it mean to be a team?

And he nearly toppled into the fire when an ink snake struck forward, sinking its teeth into his collarbone and wrapping its body around his neck in a stranglehold. Another tied itself around his wrists, one chained his upper arms to his torso, and the other three bound his legs.

-You are a tool.-

Sakura was on her feet but her left side was still open—her arm was gone and it left a sizable gap that isn't protected the same way it always was, something she wasn't used to and something her body doesn't immediately consider—and Kiba's jacket was thrown off her so a tanto could be thrust under her rib cage and ripped out the very next second, blood sputtering from it as she was punched across the face and forced onto the ground. Her right arm fell to the side and her hand opened, and the tanto plunged down through her palm and inched into the ground, pinning her to the earth.

-You are a pawn.-

The lion sunk its teeth into Kiba's shoulder and held him down as a kunai pierced each thigh. Akamaru bounded forward, claws out and rage in his eyes, but a fist was slammed into his head and he was grabbed by his newly healed leg—still tender, still recovering—and flung into the nearest tree, splintering wood and snapping the bark in half.

"You..." Kiba looked at Shino who was losing breath, at Sakura who was stuck and bleeding out, at Akamaru prone and unmoving.

At Sai, who stood above them all with their blood on his hands.

"You—You fucking bastard," he hissed. Tears pricked his eyes and his throat clogged up. "There was—we—it was us. We were an us. We were a team." He struggled and bit down on his bottom lip when he felt his shoulder tear. Softer, hopelessly softer, he whispered. "We thought we could trust—"

"There is no such thing as trust in the shinobi world. The mission is what matters, and the mission will be followed," Sai recited blankly. On his scroll he inked another beast: a hawk large enough for travel. By the time he leapt on its back, the Kumo shinobi were no more than a minute from closing in on their location.

His mice found them quick.

And they'd led the enemy to the clearing even quicker.

His hawk stretched its wings and propelled itself into the night.

"SAI!!!!!"

-You do not have a name.-

He didn't hear Kiba's hoarse, guttural screams trailing after him for the kilometers that followed. He didn't feel the weight of his actions bear upon him like a sin he couldn't shake off. He didn't taste the bitter flavor on his tongue where his cursed seal lay, growing more acid the more the seconds ticked by.

He didn't.

He didn't.

... He wouldn't.

(Sai lost count of all the times he'd flown in the air.

This was the first time he didn't feel like he was free.)

::

Kurenai startled awake, a scream caught in her throat and tears streaming down her face. Her night shirt dampened with sweat as she pressed a fist to her chest to try and calm her erratic heartbeat. Outside, the full moon glowed.

Her bedside clock read 4:08 am.

In Konoha, the night was quiet, and all was well.

...

But... something deep down—something wretched, jagged, twisting, grim—told her nothing was.

::

Akamaru art by Firedragonx (Kofi: ko-fi.com/firedragonx0251)

Joui/Ikati OC art by AwesomeDragonTamer! (caleb-crow on Tumblr; caleb_thalia_crow on Instragram)

Sai art by gimmie-cereal on Tumblr!

Sakura art by Cho_ppy on AO3! (chodoodles on Instagram)

Shino art by kason-nvidiade-art on Tumblr!

Kiba art by frostmarris on Tumblr!

Kurenai art by WattPearl!

::

The Sequel:

When the sequel is released, the epilogue that will include the sequel's name, title, and summary be updated!

And now, we end Hoshigaki with wonderful fanart by:

AwesomeDragonTamer!

reinaxabby!

whatssleeps!