Hello, hello!

I always loved fanfiction for its easygoing-ness and the wide breadth of quality accepted by the community. Like in emo music, punk, and theatre kids, there's a lot that is amateur and over-enthusiastic, but very heartfelt, oh my yes, and often insightful due to its lack of censorship / filtering!

NOWADAYS, being a typically insecure young artist, I struggle with writer's blocks and perfectionism, and my sporadic returns to fanfiction are, in case this isn't obvious, cathartic action. Each chapter marks yet another victory won over the dreadful Inner Editor! You'd think I would have vanquished that foe with the early chapters of this beastly story, but no, as a matter of fact, this beastly story simply preceded the existence of Inner Editor in my psyche. It is obvious, when you read it.

Now, Karaoke vs. Inner Editor is yet another ongoing torment of my personal life. And yet, here is another chapter. Eat it, Inner Editor!

Please enjoy.

CHAPTER 30

A Double-Feature!

Time is Flowing... and so is Chakra!? And what rhymes with Chakra? That's right...

A young girl, teens or tweens perhaps, with light pink hair, is alone in a large, cluttered, garage. She's in teal sweats and white tank top. The cold glow of a swivel-top desk lamp paints shapes defining the already well-defined musculature of her arms. Does that make the musculature redundant? You'd think so, but if it were redundant, would it be part of the narrative? I think not. Our other tell to this mysterious solitary character, also highlighted by the cold LED bulb, is a magnificent high forehead, so prized in European medievalry, but not so prized by her former kindergarten classmates, shining with sweat.

That's right, it's Haruno Sakura.

She is sweating, with muscles defined by all sorts of elements, because she is working out. Though surrounded by partially deconstructed 4-wheelers, Fiat convertibles and snowmobiles, she is locked in battle not with car parts, but the primal foe of so many body-builders, the eternal, simple, dumbells.

She stands tall, like a strong polyp, windmilling her arms in controlled figure-eights around her head, shoulders, midriff. Her teeth clench. This is no softcore scene from an 80s workout vid. This is raw documentary footage. There are earbuds in our shiny heroine's ears, but we view impartially, with no backtrack; we must assume she is listening to something pumpin' and feminine, like CHVRCHES or The Rasmus.

She takes her earbuds out, and looks directly at the camera.

"I can hear you when the songs switch! Stop narrating me! Haven't you done enough tonight?"

She's onto us. The camera reaches up and pulls off its "camera" mask! Now it is a person! Is it Kabuto—? A masterful spy?! Well, it is not Kabuto. This is our charming narrator, Bailey Vernes. Haruno Sakura is not alone after all.

"I wish I were," Sakura sighed.

Harsh. Sakura then does a double take, and puts a hand to her forehead, and wobbles her head dramatically with a hand to her cheek to say, 'I BET you're wondering how I GOT HERE!'

"No, I don't do any of that," Sakura sighed again, angling away and focusing back on her repetitions.

Fine.

Bailey stowed the walkie talkie she had been talking into. Sakura gave her the stink-eye over her shoulder, through a veil of sweat.

"Now piss off and stop watching me, creep. I'm warning you."

"Ho-la! I can't walk!"

"That's your fault! Crawl!"

Bailey gaped. "I was jus tryna produce lightning, to get YOU back to Konoha!"

"You're trying to go back for your own purposes."

Sakura kept staring at her so evilly, and looked so intimidating swinging weights around, that Bailey decided to start crawling. Sitting on this workbench with her leg elevated on a motorbike seat was not the most comfortable treatment of a freshly-sprained ankle, anyway. She leaned forward, and gingerly lifted her leg by the calf with both hands. It burned and throbbed while she brought it slowly down from its perch to hover above the floor. The rest of Bailey's body rotated itself the other direction, and in a slow, fluid, unnatural movement she laid herself out full-length on her side, braced herself with both palms flat on the floor, bent her good leg, unfolded it while dragging herself forward, and proceeded to inch-worm away.

Halfway across the garage floor, she paused, listening, but couldn't think of anything else to do but continue her journey back to the door to the house. At the doorway she struggled around the corner and curled up against the wall, then poked her head back over the doorjam, peering in on the circle of light in the dark garage one last time.

"What are you doing? Just go away!" Sakura cried, forehead flashing. "Exercise is helping me not be upset! You are not helping! Your plan didn't work! I don't want to watch a show about my world while you electrocute us! Leave me alone!"

So Bailey left, and slithered up three flights of stairs, quietly, to not wake the sleeping Wilson family, to get to Abigail's room. There, she looked at her reflection in the dark window, made a campy face with her hand to her cheek, and said, "I BET you're wondering how I GOT HERE!"

MEANWHILE, IN KONOHA.

Naruto, Hinata, Neji, Shikamaru, Chouji, Ino and Sasuke were at the ramen stand together, sitting in that order and conferring. They looked like a band. But, they weren't. Not in this fanfiction. The streets bustled with winter activities, rooftops dripped icicles, the air was crisp and tasty cold.

Hinata said something at -60 dB.

"Wawi?"

Naruto leaned over the table towards her, his mouth packed too full to talk. One noodle flipped spastically in spirals as with effort it was slurped in, spattering tiny flecks of broth.

Hinata blushed at the proximity of this beautiful boy whom she admired so much. Her family would have just died if they knew. She repeated herself, at -56 dB.

"Of course, Lady Hinata," said Neji, whose ears were attuned to Hinata's range of volume, even through Naruto's susequent loud chewing noises. "They wouldn't waste any time."

Turning his head to the others he said: "She asked if Kakashi-sensei and Asuma-sensei left yet."

"That's why we're here, dummy!" Naruto yelled, spraying, and Hinata's crush nearly ended. No one told her anything. But, though the flame of love be momentarily extinguished with salty broth, the embers remain, if it is true.

"They should be backlong before now," said Sasuke, through clenched teeth. His blonde hair was half grown out, attractively, and he was drinking hot sake. If Abigail had been present, she would not have been surprised in the slightest.

"Yes, they should!" said Chouji. "Has anyone gone to the Hokage yet?"

"I assume he knows," said Ino, crossly, but Shikamaru said,

"I have."

Brief pause. Shikamaru glanced at Ino apologetically.

"He knows."

"So, and what?" asked Chouji anxiously. "What is he doing about it?"

"Nothing, as far as I can tell…"

"Why not?!"

"Because field work is Asuma-sensei and Kakashi-sensei's job," sighed Shikamaru. "I don't question Sandaime; do it yourself if you're so worried."

"Ooo, he is worried," said Ino, noticing that Chouji hadn't finished his ramen. "Chouji-kun? …You worried?"

"Of course," said the Akamichi child stoutly. "Are you not?"

"Nah," said Ino, putting down her chopsticks (if Chouji wasn't going to finished, heck if she was). "I wouldn't put it past her to be so hopelessly lost that her bones are never found. Or to be hiding intentionally, pretending they're playing hide and seek or something."

The others mulled this over for a bit, and ate their ramen.

"Hmm," said Naruto. "I think you're thinking of Bailey. Abigail was a bit mature with important stuff."

Neji snorted and coughed. "What?! Hahahahaha."

"Yeah, Naruto, you don't know the meaning of that word."

"If either of them were mature, I'm the queen of the underworld."

"No, really!" Naruto said, scowling. "Ne, Sasuke?"

"Sure," said Sasuke, who was not really invested in this meeting at all. He was thinking of Itachi, and exams, and other canon bullshit.

"Sasuke-kun, what do you think?" asked Ino. The Uchiha boy sighed, feeling dragged into involvement.

"What do I think? Let's see. We have a chuunin exam in one week. We should be focusing on that."

"Eleven days," said Neji.

"Whatever, man."

"But absolutely, I agree," Neji added.

"Easy for you to say, Neji, you still have your teacher," said Shikamaru. Chouji nodded.

"You need to learn independence someday," said Sasuke icily, and downed the last of his cup. Everyone stared as he poured another, fumes steaming boozily into the air, but no one said anything. Shikamaru cleared his thorat.

"Okay, but we're in teams under guidance for a reason," he sniped. These damn pretty-boys, man, they were so full of themselves. Sasuke had been unbearable lately. Shikamaru got that he'd lost a lot of people close to him, he sympathized with the poor dude, but GEEEEZ.

A few moments passed. Chouji nodded again, as did Naruto, as did Hinata, who, though unaffected by the loss of sensei, was worried regardless. As it turned out, she had her own hunch.

"I think Asuma-sensei and Kakashi-sensei mean for us to do something… for them?" said Hinata. She hunkered down in her bigass grey coat as the others looked at her in surprise, but met their eyes shyly.

Sasuke said, respectfully: "Sou, Hinata-san, they told us. The reason was full disclosure. In case some evidence shows up, or we care about Abigail's recent loss, having been involved in some way or another with the shoujo-baka. That's all." He was gesturing with his sake cup, portrait of a weary sararii-man.

"Eeeeto…" Hinata mumbled, and then, again clearly, and visibly sweating: "No offense, but that's a, a non-reason…. This could even be a part of the chuunin exam, for all we know, on behaviour following lack of leadership…"

"I have thought of it! Kuso!" Sasuke said, with an agitated hair toss. But Chouji and Shikamaru went, "Hmmm". Both of them had, on their own time, since the brief rendez-vous on their teachers' behest, found themselves perplexed as to why they were deemed "closely involved" with the girls. If only by proxy through more directly involved teammates, then why weren't Neji and Hinata's teammates also included?

A server was clearing the bar of empty dishes. Sasuke discreetly nodded for a drink refill. Ino made sure they took her bowl even though it was half-full, and she leaned towards Sasuke casually.

"Well! Is it a mystery, or what?" she sighed, with a big stretch so that she could let her hand brush a wisp of Sasuke's hair. Then she straightened up, spiritually strengthened by this contact with her holy relic. "What do you think the reason is, Sasuke-kun?"

"I just said," said Sasuke, giving her a slitted side-eye. "Do you mean to ask Hinata?"

"…"

Ino blushed with a stupid grin, looking in the moment highly reminiscent of Bailey. Sasuke's side-eyes slitted closed entirely, and he sweatdropped. Why, he thought, through an unhappy haze, is life?

Ino recovered. "Uh, eeeerrr, good idea!" With huge enthusiasm, she yelled, "Hinata-chan, what do you think?"

"I don't know," whispered Hinata. "I just think there is one."

Naruto teehee'ed, putting his hand to the back of his head with a big grin. "Maybe we should start a band! Just joking."

"I'm singer!" screamed Ino, slamming her hand down on the table, making their glasses jump.

"Excuse me. Can I see your ID?" asked a server, standing behind her.

"Eh!?" Ino was horrified. "I'm not drinking!"

All eyes to Sasuke. The server's eyes roved over all of them, slowly.

"You all are kids…"

Another server looms, darkly. "Is that Naruto? Oi, who served this table? We'd like you to pay up now, please, everyone…"

And so the meeting was interrupted.

TWO WEEKS EARLIER

It is night. Two dark forms describe themselves against the pearly snow. Above is a pearly moon, in a pearly sky. The soundtrack is a ragged whistling of wind, the dry rushing of blown snow and rattling of branches; the combined effect of which is like the shrieking exhalations of a heavy smoker running a marathon.

The leading dark form vanishes into a craggy fold of the landscape and our narrative overhead camera zooms in to observe the second dark form attempt to follow. Alas, the second dark form is large and lumbering, and now it is stuck in between two rocks that jut into the path.

"WHY do we have to take THIS route?" the grizzly bellows, in a young girl's voice.

"To hide for the night," floats Itachi's disembodied voice from the path ahead, where it descends steeply into indiscernibly deep shadows of snow-coated undergrowth and snaking tree roots.

"I thought you were the scary thing prowling in the night," the grizzly mutters. "Why we gotta hide from the dark?" But the grizzly, whose name is Abigail Wilson, knows that despite scariness levels over 9000, caution is the way of any wise ninja. Also, apparently they were being followed. She reminds herself of these things in her dim bear-primary brain, as best she can, and after a few minutes of wriggling, she is stumbling free of the wedging rocks in a frustrated swoosh of damp fur. Her momentum and the incline of the path sets her barreling downwards, into, overtop, and past Itachi.

"Stop!" calls Itachi, sprawled in the snow, and the grizzly slips at that moment. It tumbles further down the slope, screaming like a girl.

A few minutes later, Itachi pulled Abigail back up the path by her hind paws and heaved her through the downhanging wing of a huge spruce bough. She went tumbling into what was hidden behind, an alcove formed by the overhanging embankment, a cradle of roots, and a large rock. She smashed through the spruce screen in an explosion of needles and snow, leaving a stark hanging skeleton of its former snow-plumped body.

Itachi followed, eyeing the tattered remainder. The path was hidden well enough away in the first place. The alcove being no longer completely obscured, they were nonetheless tucked far from easy observation.

Abigail circled like a dog and then plopped into repose, eyeing Itachi and their little cave.

"You know of some cool hidey-holes," she remarked.

"Comes with the job," Itachi said, and settled into a smooth part of the large roots which formed half of the wall. Abigail began picking long needles out of her fur with her teeth. After a few moments she paused.

"Who was following us?"

Itachi met her gaze; no response.

"Kisame's secret lover? Anbu? Kakashi? Sasuke?" Abigail whispered, watching close for a reaction. Nothing. Sigh.

Then, Itachi lowered his face down into his collar, until up to mid-nose disappeared, and his face was cut with shadow. He said:

"A snake."

"…"

"…"

"Like, a treacherous defector of a former brotherhood?" Abigail asked smoothly.

Itachi looked into the corner. His face tightened fractionally. The grizzly smirked. She licked a bit of melted snow off her paw.

"Or do you mean Orochimaru?"

This time, there was a reaction. Moderate, even high-moderate, shock! Itachi sat up straight. Abigail relished the blatant expression, delighted with herself.

"A girl too young to know the most reclusive of the Sannin by off-chance..." Itachi mused, face turtling back into his collar.

The grizzly smiled enigmatically.

Casually Itachi said: "Do you want to answer questions andsuffer great pain, or just answer questions?"

"Wehhhh! Always so quick with the threats!"

"…"

"…Please, no Pain." She meant this as a double meaning. The narrowing of Itachi's dark eyes again inicated that he recognized the possibility of the double meaning, and whether Abigail knew of Akatsuki no Pain, or he of her. Itachi searched her face for clues, but there's nothing quite like the features of a different species to obscure one's feelings.

"I respect not easily disclosing who one works for," Itachi said, leaning back a little, crossing his ankles and linking his fingers at the tips, with a conversational tone of voice.

The grizzly giggled. "That's right, good cop. Or is it James Bond?"

Again Itachi was still and silent, parsing her words and trying to decipher whether they contined a code. "James Bond"—it sounded vaguely familiar; very foreign. "Good cop"? He just didn't understand.

His black eyes flickered red with sharingen, for a second. But he already knew what he would see of her chakra: it was shredded from its channels in her body as if by a high velocity wind. Imagine a can of pressurized air, being sprayed into the stream of water from a lower-pressure tap. That was was the way Abigail's chakra appeared to be dispersing from her veins. Thought of from another angle, perhaps rather than being pushed it was being pulled, vacuumed out, but the mystery remained, to, or from, where, was the interfering energy? Another dimension, was the inclination of Itachi's beliefs, familiar with shadow-realms as he was. If it was to another entity, someone who could drain chakra, like Hoshigaki Kisame himself, then that entity was to Itachi's observation completely invisible. As such, not a high likelihood to be the case, but, one never knew. Parallel dimensions offered no end of surprising situations.

Itachi was patient with Abigail, given that there were intriguing things to chew on. He was the type to enjoy a mystery, especially one of unknown power. It was little surprise Orochimaru had been stalking this girl, too, with his lust to understand every jutsu in existence. Madman, thought Itachi, disapprovingly. Seeing the idealistic, gruesome snakeman lurking around Konoha had been what prompted Itachi to rush into her capture. Not knowing her potential, it was illogical to let her remain in Konoha, or fall into someone else's hands, especially someone crazy and sadistic. If, after thorough interrogation, she proved useless or defiant to the goals of Akatsuki or Itachi personally, he would let Kisame fight her. His comrade wanted her fur for a cloak.

"It is wise to give some lead when a captor is merciful," Itachi coaxed. "Mercy comes with opportunity. You must earn your right to safety in the world. Do you truly not understand that? What sort of pitiful and strange beast are you?"

The bear sucked more water from its paws. Through its bear shape, all of a sudden Itachi saw the young girl, in profile. Hunched over, flickering through the heavy fur of the grizzly, licking her fingers as the bear licked its claws. He couldn't tell if she was listening to him; he kept talking, observing with interest.

"It's more than likely you escaped some bizarre, abusive upbringing, in total seclusion, with your mentality and memories impaired... far from the first story of prodigal individuals hidden away in obscurity, or rare bloodlines who hide for generations. One can hardly blame them, albeit they are cowards."

"Geez. Um. I wouldn't say abusive, but, hidden, impaired, prodigal, shucks, how flattering of you to say, that's about it, yeah."

"Nevertheless, that hypothetical scenario is rather simple and conveniently obscure," Itachi said when she had finished, gaze boring into her. The girl faded from view. The bear's eyes were shifty and embarrassed.

"It's, that's, well, but actually, you're pretty spot on. You might consider a career in psychotherapy."

"Are you working with Orochimaru? Infiltrating Konoha?"

Abigail's eyes widened. She thought fast, but could not commit to bullshitting, with what were surely some Huge, Advantageous Lies ™ suddenly in supply. She must think carefully as to what would benefit her for Itachi to believe. Stalling, she laughed and said, "This is too funny!"

"You'd best start answering me." His voice was soft... yet sharp. [A/N: I crack myself up.]

"Hey," Abigail said, speaking loudly to encourage her boldness, "if you are only now thinking I might have been aiding your own vengeful goals while I was in Konohagakure, you're a bit late to the party. You've already abducted the guest of honour."

"Hmmm? Speak straight," Itachi snapped, but his voice and face held yet more surprise than anger. "What are you saying?"

"Oh, sure! Knock me unconscious, trap me in a bearsuit, torture me, march and intimidate me for a week… then interview and tell me to speak straight! Jeh, I thought the people at school were thick! At least once a day they offer a balanced lunch with options!"

Itachi had been about to cut her off, but cut himself off mid-interjection instead, to let her finish. When she finished, he was quite still. A bit stunned. This was an IRL "ninja technique" Bailey had taught Abigail: Submission By Bafflement. Baffle the enemy into submission, with overwhelming information and assumption.

"I didn't transform you—that's not a suit— but you already know that! … I blocked your chakra only momentarily—I am not responsible—" Pause. "Balanced lunch? So Miss Abigail did attend school," Itachi finally surmised, "and others have her intel…"

He looked up. "'Her intel'," the bear duhh'd, baring its teeth, while cursing inwardly all the lies she would have to bluff, all the truths she would have to bluff, all because the truth was so unlikely… ugh, tiring.

She yawned hugely and gave Itachi a look in Shade #32, Stubbornly Clammed Up. Her face did not betray her hoping very strongly indeed not to be tsukiyomi'd. In fact, of course, the bear face just looked like a bear face. Inscrutable. Fearsome.

"I concede you may have been pushed past what is fairly expected," Itachi said slowly. "Whatever its foundations, a child is a child. Rest up. Tomorrow, tell me what and who you are, with your own best interests at heart."

Abigail gave him her best #16 Poker Face, then turned her back coldly and sighed contentedly into slumber, to imply she was not afraid of him, even at her back, and she would consider his words at her own leisure, never agree to appease.

The next second, she was enveloped in a glorious rush of smells. The earth, so rich and close. The half-frozen soil, the rotting leaves, Itachi's blood and sweat (ooo), ice particles on the wind, broken spruce needles. A universal nocturne played into her ears. Beetles, and breezes, treezes in the breezes, snowfall. The winter night held her in loving embrace. She slept.

Not long later, she woke again, ears alert. Dark wall of soil in front of her. From the corner, behind her, vibrations of scuffling. Her nose informed her brain that it was the human who moved. His heart was racing. The human in the corner was twitching and mumbling, sometimes softly whining; he was in distress. Abigail's mouth watered.

However, she wasn't overtly hungry; despite a lack of deep-fried options, she ate daily—she was overtly tired. Already her interest in the disturbed human dropped, and she drifted back into unfathomable cross-universe bear-world dreams.

MEANWHILE, SOMEWHERE IN A FOREST

A bog. An icy, slushy bog-which-was-until-recently-a-meadow. Staccato splashes, prolonged sloshing, and louder, bigger splashes irregularly. Screams. Slashes.

Kisame and Orochimaru are fighting. Kabuto is aiding, modestly, here and there, and getting underfoot of both ally and opponent here and there. We might compare the battlefield with a lethal game of soccer, played by sharks and snakes.

Kisame is exerting high-power attacks, Orochimaru is evasive and dealing equally high damage. But Kisame endures, and Orochimaru recovers. Sharks and snakes, shaking and snarking, boil and tumble in water style jutsu water enclosures. Snakes drown. Sharks injest poisoned water and die.

Now Kisame has wounded Kabuto, crushing him with Samehada, Samehada who is emerging from his wrappings. Now Kisame is draining Kabuto of chakra. Kabuto's chakra is a modest reserve, and soon enough, Orochimaru's companion is tossed aside, bleeding chakra, bleeding blood, portrait of a vampiric victim. Orochimaru is enraged, and prepares to summon.

THE PREVIOUS AFTERNOON.

"So, this is where the dogs dug a bunch of pits, and then the ducks and geese started laying inside 'em," narrated a finger, pointing at an expanse of ground pockmarked with holes, upon which small flocks of poultry fluttered and stalked, hissed, tooted, quacked, and looked suspiciously over their feathered shoulders. "Laying their eggs, not just layin' down, that is, city girl."

Sunlight glanced off of damp hair the colour of wild rose petals. Sakura, waiting for something good to happen but not holding her breath for it, stood with folded arms. "I'm not from a city."

"It has an internet café," said Bailey resentfully. As an afterthought:"And its own military."

"It's name is The Village Hidden in Leaves." Sakura radiated plaintive nostalgia, her eyes bright green with tears like leaves holding dew.

"Yup." Bailey nodded. "Kind of a hipster name for a city."

"It's just a village of a different economy!"

"What?! Hahaha! The hell does that mean? Ok, it has like ….10, 000 people at least! THIS place is a village. Well, a slum, really, but also a village. 400 people, my lad."

"Ok, ok, Bailey, just shut up. You live in the real world, I'm from a facsimile. There."

"A fuck simile?! Whassat?"

Sakura sighed deeply. "A fake, a replica."

Bailey googled at Sakura with annoyed suspicion; the other girl's nostalgic features had gone back to Sanctimonious Calm, aka the worst. "Well. I'm sorry if the truth hurts," said Bailey.

A pack of gum appeared in Sakura's hands.

"I'm fine. You were saying about eggs in the ground?"

Bailey squinched her pale hazel eyes against the bare sun. "Damn, I hate your methods a lot more, but you kinda keep me on track like Abby." Thinking about Abigail hurt. She turned back to the yard full of holes.

"Right! So! When we wanna make pancakes, we come out here and test our courage, and luck. Egg-hunting!"

Sakura could almost hear banjos playing a rollicking jingle while Bailey danced forward to indicate Here and There.

"'Bout a quarter of the holes have nothin'. 'Bout a quarter of them have spiders. Half of them, glorious eggs!"

Sakura followed, stepping carefully over sandy ground. The holes were quite large, but the ground didn't seem to be caving in around their edges. "That's a joke about spiders, right?"

"Yeah, it's more beetles, duck poo, maybe glass, that kind of thing. Also spiders. Doikles' home turf."

"I see. Unnn. Anou. We don't need to make pancakes."

Bailey snapped and pointed at Sakura with a lopsided grin. "That, is usually my own decision! But then we must face the facts: nothing to eat but milk, an overripe banana, flour, sugar, baking powder." She ticked them off on her fingers and waggled them.

"I can diet," said Sakura, sadly.

"That's called disorder, not diet."

"I'm pudgy in this world."

"Oh yes, you're immense," Bailey snapped, so angrily Sakura that edged away and stumbled partways into a hole. "Remember, the word for me, then, is Titania," Bailey crowed, working herself up further. Her hand clutched into a fist and waved around. "I'll mash the banana with milk and sugar. Hope we've got high-cream percentage! So I can keep my FORM."

"Wow, project much," said Sakura. "Don't need to make it about you. I can feel this way about my body without meaning you're fat."

"No, you can't! Theory of relativity, bitch! We're too young to 'diet'! Be thankful for food you have available!"

"Don't call me a bitch."

"It's eandearing!"

"Is not!"

"Whaaa, you pussy!"

Sakura gasped. "See, YOU openly insult me, but you catch an implication you don't like, and it's not okay!"

"It is okay! I was just pointing it out, and talking about the FOOD I want to EAT to keep my form, which is AWESOME. I'm relating to you! Wha's'wrong with that?"

"WOW. You never stop. Whatever."

"Hey—wait!" The madness left Bailey's face. "We can beg from Abby's house."

"Beg!? Hard pass."

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" Bailey said, slowing down with each utterance, and waving her hand into Sakura's face, "but slyly, like, 'Hey Mr. Wilson, Abby's just following us, we'll just grab snax and wait in her room!' –and then—leave soon after, faking Abby's voice at the door. 'Mom, Dad, BYE!'" Bailey thundered, in Abigail's voice.

"Huh."

"Ya? Ya ya ya ya ya?"

"Nah."

"Ok, go boot up my computer, I'll get eggs and make food real quick."

Sakura chewed and snapped her gum. "Why, what are we doing on the computer?"

"Weather forecasts, figuring stuff out, just nevermind, can you just?"

"Fine, but then I'm going for a walk, not waiting around in your cave to close all the virus windows at Start-Up. Don't wait up."

"Yeah, yeah." Bailey resolved to shove Sakura into a dumpster at the nearest opportunity. She was getting too full of herself… she must feel and pay respect to the Gutter Dynasty of the neighbourhood, so to speak.

Sakura was somewhat familiarized with the land around Bailey's house now, after their trek to the convenience store, and walks between this street and Abigail's. Sculpting a convincing lie about Abigail's whereabouts required a bit of footwork for in-person explanations and misleading. Bailey had begun this initiative, but Sakura had joined, for credibility, and so Bailey couldn't take more liberty with the details of "Helgolga's" life.

Together, they had solidifed a belief with Abigail's parents about their daughter's participation in a couchsurfing youth group, which Sakura, alias Helga, as her crazy foreign friends had dubbed her, also was a member of. It was a mediocre cover; with any other parents, it probably would not have flown. But whether it was the Wilsons' preoccupations and eccentricity, or there was an element of surreality in her new alien-type identity, and influence, Sakura began to understand the way Bailey and Abigail had acted upon tumbling into her universe… the way they had spoken and acted like loose cannons with nothing to lose and every kind of ammunition. This place was, you know…. a clean slate. Her character was… unwritten. Now being written…. by herself.

She was…

She wished she had a bit of an imagination, right now. When she tried to imagine, it was all about Sasuke. Maybe… maybe that was what she was to focus on, the source of her power. The power of love.

Sakura looked around from side to side. The road was narrow, and empty, bordered by fields of hay and thickets of trees. She cleared her throat and spat her gum to the side of the road.

Her hands went clap!

"Bunshin no jutsu!"

A second Sakura appeared, blinked at her, and vanished.

The remaining Sakura gasped, turned in a circle, and blinked as well. "Did… did I imagine that?" she asked out loud. Well, this was actually disconcerting.

She tried again, to no effect. Her doubt rose in a huge wave, and she felt miserable. Who was she, now, exactly? How could she get back to her former place, and self?

She glanced at the ground, her blue sandals, so factually the same as their original anime form, but so different through execution. Texture, lighting, feel, flaws, dirt. Her sandals were fascinating. The appearance of everything in this world was fascinating. It was so ugly.

But, to be fair, it was also more piercingly beautiful sometimes than her "original". The clear sunrise this day's morning had lit up her soul and given her hope for whatever may lay ahead. Sakura tried to recall it now, looking up at the crystalline blue sky.

The sky, she thought, looked less different than anything else. Water looked different here. Light looked different. Trees and leaves looked very different. But the sky, with no clouds, looked just as it did back home. So she walked with her face pointed up for a while.

Must stay calm, whatever the case, she told herself. No matter what is happening, there is nothing to be gained by freaking out about it. She thought for a second, and gave a polite inner nod to Inner Sakura, whose arms were folded stoically. "Usually," she said out loud.

"Naruto, you BAKA!"someone screamed. Sakura jumped, then frowned. Someone was now laughing.

There were other people nearby. Kuso! A small group had emerged from a blind spot, over a dip in the ground. Had they… had they seen her failed jutsu….?

She stopped herself just in time from calling out, "Excuse me, did you just see my clone?!"

No, if they had seen it, they would mention it; they must bring it up, not her. As her sanity was at stake.

She slowed her walk, looking them over as they all advanced. A group of kids, not very much older than herself. By their expressions—Sakura's heart sank—they might have seen her hand seal and heard her jutsu, but not seen the brief effect. Worst possible outcome.

On top of which, she hadn't even been able to borrow any clothes from Bailey, whose wardrobe was very limited and mostly piled in a dirty corner of her room. Sakura was still wearing her Haruno Sakura "costume", as she understood it was conspicuously known here. It was very dirty, too. She pursed her lips.

The travelers all drew even. The party across the street was three boys and two girls. One of the boys was pale and had round eyes, as Sakura did; the other kids had sharp-edged eyes and skin in brown shades; they looked Japanese, though they weren't, whereas Sakura looked decidedly White.

"Look, I got a haircut!" one of the boys yelled, pointing at his mane of somewhat greasy, long, black spikes. Sakura recalled a brief encounter with kids on the street a few days ago. So it was the same ones. They must live nearby.

"Good for you," she called back. "But you're still …." she made an apologetic, shrugging gesture, indicating Unsatisfactory.

His friends cracked up and went "Ohhhh!"

"Nice. Ok, we're even! Sorry I called you a Naruto freak!"

The girls had stopped giggling and one of them called, "Yeah, sorry, Mobes was drunk. We're not judging you. Jus curious. Do you cosplay all the time? That's hardcore."

"I don't know what that is," said Sakura. The other kids looked puzzled.

"Ok," a few of them said; the others shook their heads.

"She just is Cardcaptor Sakura!" the white boy said, doing a twirl and a clumsy but enthusiastic Magical Girl pose. The white boy had a ferrety face, narrow and pinkish and curly, and moist, teddy bear eyes.

Sakura eyed him for a second, with distaste. "Sakura is my name. I'm foreign. My friends call me Helga," she added, deciding to take up her hand in altering the canon Bailey had started on her. "Helga" or "Olga" were fine; "Helgolga" was not.

"Helga? Foreign? You from Sweden?" a girl asked. "Wow!"

"Ogenki desu ka?" the white boy called shrilly.

You asked for it. "Betsu ni," Sakura said, and unleashed a stream of sentences at him in Japanese, describing what she thought of his clothes, face, and town thus far. The other kids all looked amazed, and there were a few giggles, but on the whole they looked unsure, and shut down.

"Not from Sweden?" the girl asked, of her friend rather than Sakura, and her friend shrugged.

"Iunno."

"Wanna hang out?" Mobes finally asked, the one who'd gotten his hair cut. He strode across the street with a hand even extended to shake. Sakura tilted her head away from him slightly, like an offended cat, and gave a small bow. He goggled back at his friends in amazement, who goggled forward, and then Mobes re-turned and bowed extremely low to Sakura, like she was his dad's CEO.

Moron, thought Sakura.

"I'm kind of busy right now," she said. Her stomach growled.

"We're just going to Derek's Aunty's place for grub! Come with! You're staying with that Bailey girl, right?"

"None of your business," Sakura said, in defensive ninja secrecy; and moreso embarrassment.

"Geeee, ok."

"Don't just invite her over to my place, man," said his taller friend, presumably Derek. "We don't know who she is."

"Yeah, she's a scaryee-hee-hee ninjaaa! HAHAHA," shrieked the white boy.

"Oh my God, chill," said one of the girls under her breath.

"I'm part of a couchsurfing youth group," Sakura said, "and I'm busy. Thanks for inviting me. Maybe next time!"

She walked on. All the boys whistled under their breath and watched her go. The girls rolled their eyes.

Bailey's room had enfurnaced itself under the computer's vast energy output during Start-Up, so when Sakura returned, she saw Bailey outside the window with a hammer, prying out nails from the frame. After removing one more nail, Bailey spied Sakura and gestured at her to push on the window.

"It should open now!" she yelled through the glass.

Reluctantly, Sakura helped. She braced her palms on the grimy pane, and gave a small firm shove, experimentally; then, one much harder.

The window popped open a few inches with a short, splintering crack, and Sakura saw nails fly out of the frame. One hit Bailey in the face.

"Ow! Nuts!" Bailey rubbed her cheek.

"There were still nails in there!" Sakura complained, to explain the level of force she had used.

"Well, I know! I was just trying to prank ya into feeling incompetent… ah… I mean…"

Sakura fumed. "Can we be on the same side please, so I can get out of here?"

Bailey seemed to be caught between a number of emotions. "Yeah—course, we are! Sorry! But dang! I didn't expect you to get it open! Look, there are a bunch of nails here that weren't even loosened that you ripped free. Whoa. I thought I was farmgirl buff, now I'm jealous. Can you flex? I wanna see."

Sakura blushed. "Whatever, no, you lesbo!"

"If Sasuke is a girl," Bailey sing-songed, ducking away from the window and talking and laughing loudly while she circled the house to come back inside. The thin walls of the house echoed incoherently.

When Bailey re-entered the room seconds later, she was saying, "Oh, but, but, you're reminding me of something… shoot, I was thinking of something before you showed up, but I think I was also reminded when you went Hulk…."

"Ugh." Sakura leaned beside the window for the breeze, which obligingly puffed her hair into her face, which she blew back off her face with a pout, and waited impatiently.

Soon the short blonde girl made excited hand flaps, as if trying to catch thoughts. "Do you… well, it's hard to say, but I've been having this feeling…do you feel… older?"

"I've felt older since I met you. Yup."

"But other than stress! Seriously. Just think on it for a sec," Bailey pleaded, sincerely.

"Not something a lady usually gets into the habit of feeling!" Sakura flipped her hair, enjoying its cleanness at last.

Bailey rolled her eyes up so only the whites showed, and pulled her cheeks down with her fingertips.

"Geez. Ok. Sure, I do," Sakura confessed, mouth twitching against a laugh. "But, we've been through a lot lately."

"Yes… a lot…" Bailey said. "Something has been bothering me… maybe it's aging me." She sighed and slapped her hands against her legs. "I've got hairy legs suddenly!" she burst out. "Armpits, even, I saw a hair! And you get a zit soon as we were here. And you, no offense, but in Narutoverse you were thin and frail, and now seriously, what is this?" She snatched up Sakura's arm by the wrist and started poking the bicep before Sakura could react.

Sakura reacted. "Get off!" Her arm jerked away, and Bailey went "SEE!" at the muscles displayed in the quick movement.

"I refuse to talk about this."

"Well, that's dumb!" Bailey yelled. "There's something fishy in the state of Denmark! I don't want to go Rip Van Winkle!"

"You, are insane. Maybe you should talk to your Mom about growing older," said Sakura. "That's what I did."

"Nope. Let's not go there. Listen, there's something to think about here, stop being confligamatory. Just brainstorm with me for two minutes. My brain is like a desert right now."

"I'll say." Sakura rolled her eyes one last time, but obliged, because Sakura was a helpful girl, at the end of the day, and also liked being considered useful. Nearly as soon as she had begun to stir up related thoughts, she was struck by one.

"Oh. Um. Hm. Hey," she said, quickly paling as she spoke. "Did you say… didn't you say…. a few times actually… are you sure, when we found ourselves here, you and I, that only a night had passed here, since you and Abigail left?"

"Yes! Like Narnia! Meanwhile so much time…. elapsed… while…" realization hit Bailey. "OH. That, was obvious. Shit!"

Sakura's hands had flown to her mouth. Both girls dithered. "No way! Masaka! Iyaa! We can't just wait around here!"

"What if the plot is advancing!? I won't even have caught up with the canon timeline in the first place! Shit! What if an hour here is a day there?! What if a day here is a month there?! I hate math! Ahh!"

It was like watching a shoddy bunshin have a meltdown. Sakura's lip was trembling. No freaking out, she told herself, while the blood pounded in her ears. "Ok. Ok. Calm down, Vernezu."

"This is the kind of shit math pulls when we don't solve all its problems!"

"Calm down, baka! Focus! And don't talk to me about plot. Y-you said, you feel older?"

Sakura examined her own arm, its form; her chest, quickly, probing as to whether she, too, felt older. The dreaded flat chest, her top priority, was still small, but …maybe a bit bigger? Then again, she was simply more fleshed out overall IRL than her 80-lb anime form; it was already a big enough change that it obscured other possible bodily differences.

Bailey didn't speak, but quivered. Sakura continued: "What would that mean, what do you mean, do you think you're partially still, well, living in my world?"

"Maybe? Wha? Affected by it? I don't quite feel, hmmm…. like… I feel…. half-here. Language sucks as much as math! This is why, I make my own systems."

Bailey's eyes started to glaze over; Sakura snapped her fingers in front of them to bring Bailey back from whatever coping mechanism her brain was about to spring. "Well. Yes. We must face up to whatever we can. Better to know than to not know. And haven't you always been 'half-there'?"

Bailey nodded, eyes still glazed, and Sakura nodded, speaking with low emotion; her eyes looked like dewy leaves again. "You and Abigail brought on some kind of change, one way or another."

Bailey shivered. "I feel, I feel aged. Can't tell if'm psyching myself out. It seems like a night passed while I was gone, but with all the time spent in Konoha, did my body follow along with Narutoverse time?"

Sakura looked at her closely. "It's really hard to tell because people are SO much uglier in this world already."

"Wow."

"I'm sorry if the truth hurts," Sakura said primly. "Anyway, but you and I could be much older than 12, for all I can tell. You've got bags under your eyes…"

"It's genetic. Alternatively," Bailey said, eager to cut her off, "Maybe I was just subconsciously thinking about the time difference and this's how my mind brought it to my attention. And it… it doesn't matter! Whether we age 20 years in one month is less important than if you lose all your loved ones in three months, you know?"

Sakura made a whispering sound, wanting to implore Bailey not to talk so openly about the fearsome possibilities like that, but she couldn't get the words out.

"Most importantly!" Bailey was pacing with great agitation. "We can't just fudge around here waiting for a thunderstorm! The forecast doesn't have any storms for weeks."

Both were silent for a few seconds. Finally Sakura asked, "What can we do? Can we… go to an ocean nearby—check forecasts nearby."

"I did. We can't go nowhere without hitchhiking, which is a no-go; we'll get killed; Mom's car is in repairs right now. Area's been in a drought since summer. The storm that night was a li'l gift…."

Sakura imagined banjoes again, ambling, not rollicking.

Bailey's face cleared up into stubborn purpose, even bordering excitement. "We gotta make our OWN LIGHTNING. To the DeLorean!" She clapped her hands together. "Oh. That means, to Abby's place. We'll grab a snowmobile engine battery no one will miss. Don't worry! I've always wanted to try something like this!"

Sakura was too alarmed by the threat of returning home to a village 100 years after her time to object. "Can I help?" she asked quietly.

"Yes! You siphon food from the kitchen. We're gonna have a Naruto marathon. With lightning. Tonight. Let's go."

AND SO, LATER THAT NIGHT.

A halogen bulb flickered on with a pop and a buzz in a spacious, cluttered garage. Bailey, in rubber gloves and rubber boots, carried a bucket of water and a handful of wires. Sakura was carrying the laptop from Abigail's room, looking increasingly nervous. Bailey was humming, also nervous. Both girls were wearing some loungewear from Abigail's closet.

"Hit that lamp," Bailey said quietly, nodding toward a cluttered desk. "Wait, don't hit it, Hulk. Just switch it on."

"Ha-ha."

Sakura did. She cleared a space on the desk and set up the laptop, while Bailey set down the bucket and the cables with exposed ends, and commenced to prowl around the vehicles. The garage reverberated with sensitive booming echoes, but the house was large, and sound-proofed, and Bailey was fairly sure nothing would be detected in the bedrooms on the upper floors.

"This one," she finally said, patting a long, low seat. "Point light this way?"

Sakura angled the swivel head of the lamp. Light flashed off of worn treads, greasy chains, blue chrome.

"Um, exactly what are you planning?" she asked.

Bailey started fidgeting with the hood, and examining the body of the vehicle as if for seams or battery compartments, and didn't answer.

"What even are these things?" Sakura asked, with deeper curiosity.

"They're like the 'cars' you saw on the road. But, built for snow."

"Sou ka…"

"Yeah… I don't know much about them, so that's about all I can tell you."

"You don't know much. Is this dangerous?"

"Nnnnnnnaaaaaamaybe."

"I don't know how the car comes into it, but I do know of combining water and electricity," Sakura said, increasingly involving herself as she increasingly realized she should have grilled Bailey on this before now. But Bailey ranting about lightning was one thing. Then the water and wires had come out of nowhere.

"Yeah—oh! Thank you for reminding me!" Bailey said. "Mountain Dew. Damn. I hope they have some. Sakura, Snack-Master Hogan, go to the kitchen and see if they have Mountain Dew! It's like a bright green liquid in a bottle, yay big, or yay big. Check fridge and cupboards. There will be a lot of bottles, so make sure it says Mountain Dew on it."

"What?"

Bailey sighed. "Go, to the kitchen. Open, the fridge…"

"Why!?"

"It's important, I swear! Besides, I'll do the zappy experimenting while you're gone, so you don't freak out and mess me up."

Sakura tried to smile encouragingly. "What do you mean, experimenting?"

"Because, Sakura, I only theorized this. Now I have to practice, so I'll get it right! And I don't want you to see. Goodness, you amateur, you said you wanna help, so go look for Mountain Dew!"

"Oh. My. God." Sakura marched away, past lumps of tangled metal, towards the interior entrance. She scowled.

"Matte yo ne~!" sounded behind her. Scowling harder, she turned back.

"What!"

"Make sure it says Mountain Dew. Also check if they have grapes. Plan B requires grapes. I'm serious!" the whisper-yell resonating the cavernous shop was cut off by the wall as Sakura stalked into the dark hallway.

MEANWHILE, SOMEWHERE IN A FOREST – PT. II

Cold, sharp air. Icy stone, snowblown darkness. Warm breath self-reflecting off of nearby cave wall. Voices nearby…. through a wall…

"And then I said… 'It's Over', and released the frozen water prison that my clone was hiding in—"

"Souuu ka na, amazing, Kisame…!"

A generic-sounding battle was being described. Abigail struggled to swim awake far enough to capture the most important details, but found herself unable to. Kisame's unmistakable growl of a voice sawed through the wall, punctuated by Itachi's approving hums. What a Glee club, Abigail thought; then her brain was taken over by thoughts about nearby burrowing grub and rabbits.

Some time later, her human brain resurfaced. The conversation outside had moved somewhat closer to the entrance of the small alcove.

"…No, I would think not…." Itachi was saying. "Else they would have enough of a new toy not to push their luck following us for the other. Orochimaru does not want to deplete his strength with someone of Kisame-san's rank these days, he is too obsessed with ensuring his longevity."

A throaty laugh. "I hope I didn't discourage that obsession too much. It's commenable, such eager delight in his arts."

"That type is not discouraged until you carry his head."

"I actually saw him recover from that."

"Gross. He's a persistent one..."

"Yes, Itachi-san, he is. Stubborn."

"And no reveal of kusanagi… how disappointing."

"Exactly! I was a bit insulted."

"You take things too personally."

"Do I? Perhaps it makes life interesting."

And so on. They're so cute, thought Abigail, and drifted off again peacefully. Kisame's battle, and her sleep so far, had lasted 2 days and 3 nights.

MEANWHILE, ELSEWHERE IN A FOREST

Fangs and troughs of shattered ice spread a wide expanse. A canine figure bounded silently across the land, keeping to shadows, loitering in areas to poke its snout at dark splattering spreads and streaks. Through the shadows and sawdust of fallen and splintered trees around the field, three tall human figures kept a quick-moving cover.

One of them signalled: there. At the same time, the slenderest of the three humans went zigzagging off, in that same direction, to some subtle call from her dog.

Inuzuka Hana, Kakashi, and Asuma touched down noiselessly and crowded loosely around the fallen body of Kabuto, whose face, upon closer scrutiny, was shredded like shawarma meat. Everyone was on edge. Kakashi's eye roved, and fixed towards a patch of ground which was slithering. Slithering, receding, into the trees.

"Dangerous packs wandering around…" said Kakashi. "Older-sister-of-Kiba, can you take him back to Konoha? Bring Pakkun."

"I feel unwanted," said Pakkun, clinging to Kakashi's bakkpakk.

"How did you just address me?" Hana asked with shocked displeasure. "Really? You got me up for this? The walk up to here? There's some gnarly, interesting find to make and you're sending me back with this guy's face and your ninken? That's my tier now, eh?"

"I summoned you, didn't I? I appreciate you," Kakashi said in a sincere tone of apology. It was over his shoulder, to Pakkun, not to Hana.

Kakashi and Hana sometimes slept together, and Kakashi also sometimes slept with Inuzuka Tsume, Hana's mother, and for her part, Hana was painfully aware of it; the two adults didn't care. For trailing the scent of a grizzly, Kakashi had intended to ingloriously wake up and …unofficially recruit… Inuzuka Tsume, not Hana. There had been a little comedy of errors in the late-night encounter where he had loitered outside the door waiting for her to leave the house, instead of anything so improper as sneaking inside. "Her" meaning Tsume, not Hana. But it had been Hana who'd walked out, borrowing her mother's cloak, which hid her hair, and her dog had been in the shadows, and Kakashi, being in a hurry, had addressed her far too candidly; then, the thrill of debauchery had added to its appeal and overruled his better judgment, so instead of amending his mistake and asking Hana to fetch her mother, he took the 18-year-old along for the mission, and, well, it was all too late now.

"Yap yap," said Pakkun. "I'm sensitive, please watch your tone."

"Oh, wow." said Inuzuka Hana.

They were all, too, slightly drunk. Asuma technically was the one who had brought beer, but as Hana and Kakashi fully expected it, and partook, they were all complicit.

It was no big deal. This was a pretty average reading of the behaviours taken in low-rank jounin missions, as well as of course the majority of chuunin mid- and low-rank missions. Kakashi in particular liked to exploit useless missions for philandering purposes.

Confronting Uchiha Itachi and Hoshigaki Kisame, not to mention Orochimaru and whatever sidekicks he had these days, would have been a highest-ranking mission probably requiring all reserves of Konoha's might, not a useless mission, and everyone knew that. But the plan was nothing so dramatic. To have knowledge of Abigail's future via the fugitive Uchiha was desirable but not imperative. Non-confrontation, non-interference, and non-detection was the method for this small search party. If information presented itself, good. If Abigail, or her body, could be easily recovered, good. If not, also good. Concerning Abigail, this was as far as Konoha's responsibility and interest lay in her.

In short, they were supposed to keep distance from danger. This fresh battlefield did not reek of danger, but those snakes over there did. So Kakashi now wanted to get a move on. At the same time, he hadn't thought of Orochimaru in a long time, and he was intrigued to. If ever there was a time for glimpsing the dangerous Orochi in the wild, it was now, after a battle which had lasted 2 days and 3 nights.

Kakashi winked at Asuma.

Asuma chuckled, behind his cigarette. He had been planning to go clean, lately, and this Lost-Girl mission seemed like an opportunity, but then Hana had accidentally been dragged into it, and when one factor of planning was disrupted, sometimes the others quickly followed. So it had been.

Asuma wiped the smile from his face. "Us men better keep pushing forward," he said gravely.

"Yes," said Kakashi gravely.

Kiba's sister muttered, "shit-eating jounin," under her breath.

"He looks sneaky, though," Pakkun said, looking down his jowls at Kabuto, all spindly and tattered. "Someone whose face is shredded but has his glasses on always make me uncomfortable."

"Interesting," said Kakashi. "Take caution, bitches. Hehehehe!"

"Ohhhhh. I really hate you, Kakashi-sensei."

Hana was susceptible to cool, older men, and prodigies, and dog affinities. Kakashi was susceptible to 18 year olds with dog affinities. He would have loved snapchat.

Asuma ignored them, keeping guard. This was one reason he preferred to spend time recreationally and officially with Gai. But Gai-sensei was always busy with something glamorous.

NIGHTTIME, IN A GARAGE.

Sakura entered with a bottle of Mountain Dew. The circle of light in the dark garage was empty.

"Hi, over here, down here. Not that I've given up on this yet, but did you check for grapes?"

"No, I didn't!" Sakura hissed, speedwalking to where Bailey was sprawled on the cement floor, holding her ankle, face all squinched together. "What did you do? Are you ok?"

"N…..no. Just, got zapped, went flying a bit. Same ankle I broke in Konoha… fuck."

A few seconds passed.

"You deserve it," Sakura said. Bailey opened her eyes to look dully ahead. "And more!" Sakura said, with feeling.

"Ok, fine!" snapped back Bailey. "Are you gonna help, or gloat?"

"I'm obviously going to gloat, Vernezu." Sakura towered over her, all contorted and exaggerated shadows in the 2-point high-intensity light.

"Then you may as well get the grapes first. Goats love grapes."

"Will you shut up about grapes! Ok, get off the floor, take my arm, here." Sakura knelt and Bailey braced herself off Sakura's shoulder. Sakura straightened, stabilizing Bailey's entire weight wobbling onto her, and propelled the other girl onto a workbench with ease, sitting her up like a rag doll. Once again Bailey started going, "Yoooo, you are like CRAZY STRONG," and Sakura told her to shut up.

They stretched Bailey's leg out in front of her and Sakura got to work gathering some sticks, rulers, tape, padding, and bubble wrap, for a ghetto splint. The ninja academy did not teach specific medical ninjutsu, but of course it taught fundamental components of human bodies and first aid, to those who paid attention.

However, something else was at play. Intuitively, while Sakura examined, and prodded, she gestured with her hand. As she gestured, a faint white glow emanated from her palm. And before long, Bailey had stopped grumbling to stare in shock, and remark with wonder: "That feels… You're healing me!"

Sakura didn't look up from her concentration. Vaguely, she was aware of the truth of the statement. For some reason, it didn't surprise her as much as she might have expected. Instead, she was filled with a deep calm, a feeling of bottomless patience, of immense empathy…

"Why are anime girls always healers?" Bailey groaned darkly.

"For—!" Sakura dropped Bailey's leg onto the bench, making Bailey go "EEEhhgghh!" pitifully.

"You're seriously going to criticize my character while I'm tending to your self-inflicted dumbass injury?!" exploded Sakura. "What does ANYONE like about you?"

"Ho-la!" Bailey shot back, offended, but content to be distracted from the heebie-jeebies in her ankle. "You're seriously gonna keep getting mad reactive?! Criticize character; jus tryna observe and converse! Why don't you practice some TOLERANCE."

"Practice tolerance. Coming from you. Incredible."

"Uh, yeah. I'm tolerant!"

"More like you demand tolerance for you to act like a criminal!"

"Act like a criminal? I just said anime girls are all healers. You're an anime girl, squishy damsel, and now a healer. Jus gripin about tropes here. What do you think?"

Sakura bashed Bailey's foot. Bailey screamed.

"What the fuck, psycho!" Bailey gasped.

Sakura smiled. "Who's squishy?"

"Friggin low-blow hairpuller …!"

"Yeah, you're SO tolerant, Bailey. Grateful, too."

"…Fine! You're right, I'm not, not to you, Sakura, you are an exception, cuz I already knew since I started watching the show that you are intolerant, and the only thing I can't tolerate, is intolerance. Arrgh!"

"Are you serious now?"

"To Naruto. And yourself," Bailey added, in a hushed, ooglie-booglie voice, waggling her fingers. "And disloyalty to Ino, who was nice enough to help you form self-esteem instead of letting you wallow forever; just like Abby did for me; but you went and made an enemy out of her for your own feelings of self-importance, over a shallow crush, instead of any type of camaraderie. Such disregard for friendship, for kindness! So mean! I hate it!"

"Are you serious. This is so invasive. Vernezu-teme, you're dealing a lot of judgment for someone who burst in and acted like a criminal!"

"I –I thought I was dreaming! Sisters before misters. Hoes before bros, ho!"

They stared at each other with vast loathing. But also with new understanding.

"I wish I were dreaming now," said Sakura.

"See? That's how it is! Oh man, I wish that we were in Konoha, with full access to chakra, and jutsu, and all that fun ninja shit, so I could clobber you right now."

No wish fulfilment took place.

Sakura smiled, eventually. "I'm charmed that you share your innermost feelings with me. Instead, here we are. Me, with growing strength and medical ninjutsu." She remembered her brief clone, but did not mention it. "And you, with a big squishy foot."

They stared at each other with vast loathing. Only vast loathing.

"Here. We. Are."

The moment lengthened, then passed, and was then uncomfortable. Sakura was deeply thrilled by their positions of power at the moment, but she was uneasy over various aspects on closer inspection. Namely, she was not exactly of the disposition to act on her threatening posturing. Then again, if Bailey kept pushing her buttons, a check on the raging of Inner Sakura told her that might eventually change.

From Bailey's perspective, Sakura had been becoming ever more to her like she was to Naruto, and now that Bailey was stripped of all power, her whole 'illusion,' (as she bitterly now thought of her former, powerful self in the Narutoverse), this meant Sakura could talk down to her not only like she was Naruto, but far worse. Like she was a street-sweeper; a hobo between towns; a fangirl; a nobody, which, of course, she was. Perhaps Sakura had been authored, but she had been authored with duties, opportunity, loving family, and significance. Plot.

Sakura vaguely understood much of this too, by now, and suspected that Bailey did. That in itself was enough of a reward to sustain her. And now, better than that, a confirmation, some kind of power was growing in Sakura, something was poving to be remarkable about herself, for the the first time in her life; a return on all her suffering; just as she had been taught about martyrdom, as a kunoichi.

Nonchalantly she twirled a roll of duct tape on her finger. "Isn't it interesting, how you and Abigail had all sorts of powers in my world which you obviously do not have here?"

"Yes, it was interesting," said Bailey blandly. "Intergalactic energy conversion! All the suppressed stuff."

"Wh… Don't just make stuff up like that. Idiot!"

"Why not? Worked out well so far. The sooner you embrace power where you cab, be it delusion, entropy, disguise, the quicker you can go final form and hopefully expire in a blaze of glory. Speaking of working out, and final form, snap!, that's how you should spend your time while waiting for the thunderstorm we need for Return Flight to Konoha City, if wait we must! Capitalize on your newfound highly-unlikely literal strength, so you don't fall quite so hopelessly far behind your team, who not only are prodigies but now also are training in a hyperbolic time chamber."

"Would you shut up! For a second!" Sakura snapped, salty because she had wanted to announce her similar thoughts. "I was going to say that! …M-more or less. Some of it, anyway—This… this strength. And healing! It's an anomaly for sure, for me, and yet I recognize it, somehow." She flexed her fingerless gloves. "I feel …. all this sort of… potential. Detachment? Power! I… I get how you and Abigail felt…"

"You don't get how we feel," Bailey said vehemently, exposing her goth heart momentarily. "But that's amazing. I would love to see you punch a hole in timespace straight through to Konoha."

Sakura gave a sharp smile. "You're right. Poor choice of words. More importantly, I don't need to relate to you. I do not need to rely on you here any more than you and Abigail needed to rely on or relate to me, back home."

"What does that mean?" Bailey asked, curious, not particularly hurt. "You're going Dark Sakura? You're ditchin? I wish you would hurry up with it. But couldya finish bandaging my ankle first?"

Sakura, the type to thrive on moral high ground, sat back down to finish the rough splint, tugging and tightening mercilessly. The white glow from her hand did not appear again, because she didn't want it to.

"There's gym stuff in here already," Bailey urged. "Go nuts. I'm all for gap moe, all the time. Meanwhile, I'll keep the Naruto going! Like you said- maybe it's better to know, than to not know."

Secret lives of ninja personality, casually uncovered in this unlikely tale of inter-dimensional chakra exploration!

What kind of magic links fictional and IRL realms together?!

Has fanfiction gone too far?!

teeheeheeeheehee