Author Notes: Hey guys! Lisa here, this is a general collaboration between my friend Amy, and I. The only few warnings that I give you are 1) Contains spoilers - for those of you who have not yet read the manga, or started to watch Naruto Shippuuden series, I suggest that you not read this story! 2) Later on there will be Mature content, otherwise known as Lemon. If you are uncomfortable with strong violence or language, or later sexual content, then please stop your wandering eyes! 3) Mary-Sue centric, which I do believe offends most people. Please do not flame! Leave positive feedback!

Disclaimer: We do not own any of Masashi Kishimoto's characters, but we do commend him for his excellence, and creative genius.

More Author Notes: We do like to use the Japanese terms for countries. If you become confused about anything, we will consider leaving footnotes. Also, the story begins a little bit before Sasori and Deidara appear.

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Moon's Light, Reality's Dream
月の光、うつつの夢
Chapter One – ダンゾウ (Danzou)

Danzou reclined at his desk, looking as if he didn't have a care in the world, his one good, unbandaged eye closed as he mused over the documents strewn across the polished wood. The rough hewn, dark, burnt orange rock walls of the Root building weren't particularly spectacular, nor was the ratty black carpet, but it hadn't been originally intended to be such a permanent home for himself, or his group. Things just had a way of falling into place like that. He'd never imagined staying here for as long as he had, that his dreams to become Hokage would take even years to come to fruition. But those hopes had plummeted to nearly nothing after his ill-fated alliance with Hanzou of Amegakure.

The entire mess cast a pall of suspicion and doubt over him, a new cloud even darker and more sinister than the one he'd already carried. Indeed, the Leaf had reasons not to trust him, many more than they even dared to dream of, and with Princess Tsunade as Hokage, they would be even wearier of his presence. Teaming up with the Rain Village was neither the worst, nor the wisest decision he'd made. However, the Root, on the other hand, was proving to be both one of his best ideas, and more than useful over these last few years.

So much about his own, and the Foundation's, activities had to be concealed from any means of discovery, that a Curse Seal had been created. When place on the tongues of the operatives it would leave his Anbu paralyzed if they dared to speak of anything having to do with the organization or it's founder, from his name or mildest intentions, to his cruelest, most twisted plans and desires. This was such an important matter to him, that Danzou himself was the only one to ever place the seal. The need for such a thing became more than apparent after the debacle with that brat, Uchiha Itachi.

Trying use blackmail was more in the way of a ninja, but now Danzou's seal made sure that none could use the Itachi Tactic on him whenever they wanted something, as well as guaranteeing no enemies would gain knowledge of his plans by capturing, interrogating, and torturing his ninja. Leaving Anbu Root was something that couldn't be easily done, unless Danzou himself approved of it, and had recently become all but an impossibility. He couldn't afford to lose any of his perfectly trained operatives, especially now when he felt he was so much closer to achieving his largest goal, the one desire that drove him before all others.

The smooth, crisp paper of the document now in Danzou's hand crackled softly, the sound seeming to say "this is your opportunity." Details of the Akatsuki, that secretive band of rogue and missing ninja who's objectives have never really been clear, were always hard to come by. But here, in his one ravaged hand, are the words stained onto parchment, that could lead to all new doors opening for him. The Akatsuki have crept silently from the shadows, acting on collecting the Jinchuriki, and their sealed biju, from the various Hidden Villages. Two suspicious, oddly garbed travelers have been spotted on the move towards Sunagakure. There could be only one reason for such a move by that dreaded organization. They'd finally set their sights on capturing Gaara and drawing Shukaku from him. Danzou couldn't help but smile, aware that he was probably in possession of this new piece of information long before any other in Konohagakure, which honestly more than pleased him.

Not only would it look better if he had already sent out one of his own, and then consulted Konoha, it would serve his purposes very well. He could have a spy there specifically to watch over Godaime Kazekage, the reason seemingly altruistic, but beyond invaluable to him, not just in helping procure the safety of Sunagakure's Kage, but also in terms of the information that would be ferreted back to him. Danzou firmly believed the adage "keep your friends close, and your enemies closer," though he believed there were none he would truly call 'friends'. Still, he was honestly interested in the outcome of an encounter between that Akatsuki and the extremely powerful Kazekage, as much as he needed to learn more about the possible enemies of the future - to have an idea of their methods, tactics, and goals.

He placed the document on his desk with a small sigh, his fingers trailing lazily over the worn and time polished dark wood to his folder labeled 'Ansatsu Senjutsu Tokushu Butai.' With calm thoroughness, he started to skim over the possible candidates for this mission. In his perfect memory lay the names of countless ninja who would suffice for this mission, but he could only recall one special case who might excel at it. His hand found the picture with ease, and gazing upon it, he remembered the small child he had found that day. Her family hadn't completely made it outside of the Sunagakure border, and the two cold, dead figures beside her were all the evidence needed that she belonged to the Sand village. Apparently attacked by rogue ninja, she had laid barely breathing with a deep slash to her chest. The girl should have, and without his intervention, definitely would have died. Perhaps even then, he'd had an inkling of the dormant potential residing within that seemingly unremarkable child.

"Perfect," he mused, his fingers tapping lightly on the top of the desk as he leaned back in his chair again. She was definitely highly capable, a credit to his unique training techniques, and his Root organization as a whole. The first step he had taken to save this girl's life, was to erase her emotions. Removing the need for grief - for her family, her home, her old, now lost life - from her mind had not only allowed her body to heal, but to become much, much stronger. Lack of emotion also distilled the mind into a singularity of purpose, as well as providing yet another mask, one of unreadable intentions, resulting in one who would obey without question, and loyalty of the purest level that would drive one doggedly to complete their mission.

Death would be the only acceptable means of failure. This mission would be a nice change of pace. A challenge, a test of her, and his training methods. If she were to return to Sunagakure, how would it affect her? Would she remember who she'd been at all? He desired this test of the efficacy of his teachings, desired to see if her heart would even connect to the place of her birth anymore, or if she only truly belonged to the Foundation. He felt he had taken it easy on her, despite the laws he chose to stick to when it came to strictly training his foundation. Would she bend, or would she break?

That little girl that he rescued had changed immensely from the photo that now lay atop the folder on his desk. When she was younger, he picked her out as the one with the bright orange hair that seemed to always be going in a million different directions. As the years passed, that hair had become darker, a deeper red, and tamed itself as it lengthened, now falling to brush her back just above the waistline of her pants. The photograph proclaimed more innocence in that bright, child's gaze. But her jade eyes had turned cold, at least from the last time he saw her, with the passing of time and many missions, including assassinations. He smirked, his fingers finally ceasing their tapping on the desk and laying still. Thinking back, he couldn't imagine that the missions he's sent her on have fazed her in the least.

Always professional and efficient, she'd carried out each one with silence, grace, and a strange sort of dignity, and always seemed to even lack pride in her successes, displaying only an odd sort of satisfaction at each positive completion. Sending her to spy on Sunagakure's Kazekage would undoubtedly mean little to her other than another mission to complete, and even less than the brief, 'I used to live here'. After all, Danzou had made nothing of her origins, tearing any form of loyalty she might have once held, and binding her with every tie he could think of to only himself and the Foundation.

He rose stiffly, with awkward slowness from his comfortable seat and took the gnarled old walking stick from the corner of his desk, limping slowly over to open the door. The two Anbu guards outside kept their gazes riveted on the end of the long, rocky hallway, for all intents and purposes ignoring his presence, exactly as they had been trained to do. These ninja, if they had feelings, they would fear. That fear would then surely breed hatred, and hatred would lead only to war. They all knew, in their own minds, that this way of the ninja was safe, but also very dangerous, a delicate, precarious balance that needed only one good shove to topple it into a nightmare. 'Ninja without hearts!' Danzou smiled proudly, recalling how he had declared a new form of Anbu, a new beginning of merciless ninja, who only served him, and admired him, as if he were right all along. Because of course, he was. Always. His voice was rough, gravelly, and carrying all the warmth and comfort of an open grave as he addressed them:

"From the Root of Anbu, get me Hitori."

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"Ishida-kun!"

The Anbu captain stormed through the door, her white cloak swirling behind her much like the tail of an annoyed cat, and surveyed the training area with a critical eye, seeking a specific, spiky-haired goof of an Anbu ninja. Ishida had been responsible for more than his share of ridiculous, childish pranks, but this latest one was by far the worst. Anbu ninja are those who protect the village from exceptional threats, and are usually sent out on high-risk missions. Many times, these ninja do not return alive. Such behavior was therefore unseemly in a potential Anbu candidate. Being captain of such an organization, this young woman had the unenviable task of beating such childish antics out of her trainees, by any means necessary, but this newest squad was proving to be incompetent beyond all belief, to her way of thinking, anyway.

'Godaime Hokage, how can anyone ever think that these infant ninja are really ready, when they're joking all the time?' she thought hopelessly, as she spotted one of her three students, Koji.

He was easily the smartest, and the best of the hopeless cases she'd be handed. The one shining star in a dark, dismal night sky, though he could be so much more. They all had great potential, if they would just approach their training with the gravity it deserved. It was only natural that her squad should undergo more training, extensive and excruciating in it's occasional brutality, because though the Ninja Academy was supposed to cut out all of these humorous little bits of undesirable character traits, it didn't seem to be very effective. Especially going by what she was seeing from the younger ninja being sent in to become Anbu. This choice meant life was no longer child's play, but none of them ever seemed to realize that until they came back from their first Anbu mission. Those who survived to come back paid for the honor of their mask with the loss of their innocence. Those not so fortunate paid with their lives. It was a hard life, to be sure, but it was a noble one, and that was more than enough compensation for those who chose it.

"Koji-kun." The captain watched the green haired boy intently, observing him critically as he pulled out another kunai. From this range, it was hit or miss. She studied his movements as his arm drew back, his muscles flexing noticeably beneath the tight sleeve of his shirt, and found herself unable to keep from critiquing his form, but also unable to find flaw with it. She caught herself feeling a small sense of satisfaction as the weapon thunked sharply into the target with seemingly effortless ease, the sound of it's impact audible to anyone in the room. Koji shifted his thin framed glasses back onto the equally thin bridge of his short nose, and turned to her with a feline stare, his eyes full of the glow of success, and glinting with a shadow of something resembling contempt.

"What is it?" He asked curtly, looking more than a little annoyed by her sudden presence. The crack that resounded through the room as the back of her armored hand met the side of his face, was nearly as satisfying as the soft grunt that came from him while he dropped to one knee, his mouth falling open just slightly, as if shocked by her response. With utter calm, she glanced down at him, her voice resonating with the same chilling tone that all Anbu members eventually acquired, as he returned to his form, this time reaching for a shuriken.

"There is neither room, nor tolerance for insubordination within the Anbu ranks. You should have learned this by now." She managed to keep the sneer from her face, but it took more than just a little effort. "Also, you are wasting time training with shuriken, or even kunai. You should focus on wielding your ninjato, ne?" She slid the short, graceful sword from his back and handed it to him, trying to keep condescension off of her face, before glancing around the room to include everyone there. "I'm looking for Ishida-kun. There is an opportunity for a new mission. I think it's essential for this squad to go. You could all definitely use the learning experience."

"A learning experience, Nisei sensei?" Koji shook his head, his voice now much softer and holding no emotion whatsoever, as he gripped the ninjato tightly. "I get to wear my mask?"

"That's right." Nisei answered quietly, not reprimanding him for the nearly childish pleasure at discovering he'd finally get to wear his mask. All Anbu went through that same feeling of elation the first time they slid the cold, concealing porcelain over their faces, even if it only lasted until they walked out the door. Ishida's spiky hair came into view, and she walked quietly past Koji, swiftly intercepting her laconic, and extremely late, student, with a glare that should have put the fear of death into him.

Today, Ishida would learn a very valuable lesson, even if she had to spend hours beating it into his dense, stubborn head. She stepped closer to him, leaning in a little as she smiled kindly at the overly confident young ninja, her newest, and weakest, student.

He seemed proud of himself judging by the way he was grinning madly at her, showing all of his even, white teeth. When she spoke again, after a long moment, her voice was calm, her tone level, only the slight narrowing of her eyes betraying any emotion whatsoever. "I woke up today with a chill in my bedroom and I thought to myself, I never leave my window open. So how did it get that way?"

Ishida beamed another bright smile at her, obviously trying hard to keep his laughter undetected, as she continued in the same story telling tone:

"A good ninja can tell when there has been an intruder, even from the slightest difference in the room. I opened my eyes to find a string above my head and a poorly devised plan to have a bucket full of Strawberry Mango tea dumped onto my head. I then expertly maneuvered myself from the bed, and nearly failed to miss the string on the floor, which then set off a swinging stuffed monkey larger than me. This flying toy then pushed me onto the pile of unpeeled bananas, the very same bananas I just bought for five ryos a pound..." At the conclusion of this little tale, Ishida nearly bent double, unable to hold back his laughter anymore, which earned him a sharp slap on the back of the head from his team mate.

"Nisei sensei..." she said, her tone all business. This girl was the only one of Nisei's students who ever seemed to take things seriously. Ayu-chan frowned at her childish counterpart before turning to regard her teacher skeptically, her brown eyes seeming even darker than usual as she rubbed at the spiral tattoo on her right arm. "I feel like a rebel, doing this behind my mother's back."

"You're all acting like children," Nisei answered quietly, barely holding back a sigh. These three students that she was assigned to didn't deserve her level of expertise. It seemed ridiculous to be forced to train and look over a bunch of brats fresh from the Ninja academy, when Nisei had looked forward to teaching much more competent adults. In spite of her own young age, her level of skill should have been enough to ensure such a thing. "I wonder if you even deserve to go on this mission..."

The Anbu leader frowned at herself as she began walking away, mentally cursing the fact that she was a squad leader, and not a Jonin. She was definitely not the type with the temperament necessary to successfully teach kids. Luckily, she wasn't the only one stuck in this same position. Another team of Anbu would be joining them, the secondary leader being Kouki-san. He was a very strict leader, but he also had an older group with him. He raised his hand up to wave, and she lazily waved back, smiling to herself. His porcelain bird beaked mask was a sight she still found herself unable to keep from laughing at, as did many others, but no one ever dared to laugh about it in his presence.

Kouki was, without a doubt, someone to take seriously and Nisei made sure that her squad knew that as well. When the two teams met up, he started to go over the seemingly easy task of protecting a shipment to the allied village, Hoshigakure. These silly, self important young Anbu scoffed, and some even dared to laugh. They were much too sure of themselves alright, especially for children who had yet to see any real action, or even go out on a real mission. Nisei sighed, blowing a piece of her black chopped bangs out of her face as she balanced her weight, idly shifting from one foot to the other, obviously anxious to get moving. She could feel the soft movement of her long black hair swaying gently back and forth in its low ponytail, the ends just brushing over the backs of her legs. Lately, her impatience seemed to be getting the best of her.

'Being Anbu isn't a joke.' She couldn't help but have these doubt ridden thoughts. As much as she wanted to have confidence in her team, and in the way she'd tried to train them, that would just be fooling herself, and she knew it. These kids really had no idea what they were in for, the dangers that could and would occur, in spite of the best preparations in the world, made by even the most senior ninja. They were bound to happen, on nearly every mission. The unforeseeable. As if the life of a ninja wasn't cruel enough, the reality of Anbu would someday hit them, as brutally and unforgivingly as it hits every one of them. It's always only a matter of time before an Anbu respectfully resigns their title and moves on. There had to be a time when enough was enough.

An assassin who lives life killing without question, eventually loses even themself, and what was the point in that? When there is no longer honor in what you do, only pain and sorrow, then it's time to pass the flame onto the younger generation. If only that younger generation didn't seem quite so disappointing as these three, Nisei thought she might actually be able to sleep soundly at night. She conveniently pushed away the thought that she wasn't much further removed from her own Ninja Academy days, like so many other competent, and even excellent, Anbu operatives she admired. Sadly, these three just seemed hopeless.

Nisei didn't find her job in the least bit enjoyable, but she couldn't see herself doing anything else other than protecting the village, even killing dangerous ninja to do it. Her love life would remain an emotionless pit, she decided long ago. There was no rush to ever quit being Anbu, especially now that she was captain, and she could see no reason to complicate her life any further by clouding her heart. She had a point to prove to a certain someone, someone who had probably forgotten her by now, despite his close connections to Anbu. Her golden eyes closed, as she shrugged deeper into her white cloak. She really didn't want to remember…

'Kakashi senpai…onegai...'

As if she was actually hearing her own angry words from that day, Nisei's eyes snapped opened. In the cold, cruel depths of her subconscious, her mind was laughing at her. It was merely the weak Nisei from that day, the one she thought she'd rid herself of forever. Apparently, she'd been wrong.

"Let's go," Kouki nodded his pale blonde head towards the door, and one by one the newly promoted ninja started to head out, each happily putting on their masks like it was Halloween and they were going out for candy. Remembering the first time that she went out on as mission as Anbu was difficult, everything about it seemed surreal and otherworldly, but Nisei remembered enough to know that she didn't feel one bit elated.

She pulled on the red and black painted kitsune mask with steady hands and followed behind, sticking to the basics. If Kouki was up front, then Nisei would guard the rear. It didn't take long before their limbs grew tired, the younger ninja especially experiencing difficulties. Nisei was already used to her legs kicking off of each branch, and using her upper body strength to hang onto the rough wood beneath her fingers. She regarded each of the others as dispassionately as should could, wondering which would fail, hoping that none paid the ultimate price and lost their life today.

Today they would each learn that the way of the ninja was always rewarding, always full of honor, even in the smallest details, but it was never easy. No, it was never easy.

The carrier wasn't very far from where they had started. It awaited them just a small distance outside of the village proper. Though at this rate, Nisei wondered if they would ever make it to Hoshigakure no Sato. A glance to the sky assured her that at least there wasn't rain in the immediate future. One small detail to brighten what was otherwise sure to be a dim day.

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Danzou stood beside his desk, waiting for Hitori to answer his summons and walk through the door. As usual, he didn't have to wait long, which pleased him immensely. He wasn't surprised to see her mask in place, fully knowing that the girl had on yet another mask beneath it, a covering over her mouth and nose. For whatever reason, she had started this many years ago and he connected it to the way she had been raised in the Sand. Between the sand storms and the constant wind, many of Sunagakure keep their faces wrapped, which only made sense. He started to wonder, as he regarded her solemnly, if he should have taken that away from her.

Was she wearing the mask as if it were some sort of safety blanket? A connection to the things she'd been forced to leave behind? Or was it merely for concealment purposes? The desire to never have anyone see her true face. They both seemed likely answers, as he had information that she even slept with that damned fabric mask over her face. Even her own partner had never seen more of her than her eyes. He pushed those bothersome thoughts aside, and stabbed the mission folder with the tip of his finger, immediately drawing her full attention to it.

"Two of the Akatsuki, at least two that we know of, are heading for Sunagakure. Their objective will no doubt be to capture Godaime Kazekage, since he is the host of the one tailed biju. You will be going there as a spy, but I would like you to remain undercover. Your reason for staying under the Kazekage's care, and in the tower, will be easy enough to lie about, should you even be forced into speaking of it at all. I received a letter quite some time ago from Baki, expressing his concerns about Gaara becoming the new Kazekage. Many in Sunagakure still do not trust him, and others fear him, so Baki is worried that someone will try to assassinate Gaara. Now is the perfect time to respond, is it not?"

Leaning back, he smirked, knowing his rhetorical question for what it was, but expecting her silent nod anyway. Behind the porcelain inu shaped mask, her head did nod slightly, her long dark hair falling forward as she then bowed in obeisance to the only the master she had ever known - the man who had saved her life. She settled her fist onto the floor gently, her body lowering even further, showing her deepest respect for him. The muscles in her arm flexed beneath the grey arm guard as her head dropped even lower still. Finally, her silky crimson locks pooled on the ground around her and she watched dispassionately through the eyes of her mask and the curtain of her hair, as the sharp end of Danzou's stick slammed down on the mass of hair, effectively holding her in place should she even dare to think of moving.

"If it comes to it... You are to sacrifice your life to save Gaara's." The law in Danzou's voice was absolute, and they both knew she would never disobey him. It was okay to have her wings figuratively pinned now, as a butterfly would, as a specimen. It was entirely okay, because nothing else mattered. She had been taught to respond. If you are alive, if you can breathe, see, feel, and think, then you can respond. The amount of pain she had endured, the mental blocks she had learned to construct, these had allowed her to successfully build the iron walls that Danzou spoke so often about in training. You must have an iron wall around your heart, so that no man, no enemy, no threat, and no friend could penetrate it. Her soft voice, when she finally spoke, was like nothing more than the brush of a moth's wings against your skin.

"Hai, Danzou-sama."

He lifted his stick from the ground, releasing her as he turned his back towards her, a blatant gesture of dismissal. Deep in thought, she walked the short distance back to the room she shared with another Anbu Root ninja, her usual partner on missions that required more than one operative. Yomi certainly wasn't the usual silent Anbu when the two of them were alone. He liked to talk in private, but when it came down to doing his job, he was as mute, ruthless, and efficient as the rest of them. Danzou would never suspect that he had such a verbose individual in his operation, and Yomi was smart enough to never give him a reason to suspect such a thing. Hitori was the "lucky" one who got to enjoy his rambling monologues. She actually found his voice, and his presence, oddly comforting, though it wasn't like their partnership was something of their own choosing, or even a random occurrence. Danzou had decided the two ninja made a very efficient, compatible team.

"What did one-eye want?" Yomi asked, keeping his legs crossed as he lay casually upon the top bunk, making conversation as he always did while awaiting his next mission, should there be one for him anytime soon. Hitori always figured it must just be his way of staving off the ennui that had a tendency to develop in the lull between missions. Some ninja trained harder. Yomi talked. "Oh, that's right, you respect him. I'm sorry. What did 'Danzou-sama' command of you this time?"

To Hitori, Danzou was the man who had saved her while she lay bleeding out her life into the sand. Those sorts of rogue ninja attacks were common in Sunagakure back in that time, and were never anything personal, though they were almost always viciously deadly. So without hesitation, and without a single second guess, Hitori believed her life was Danzou's to do with as he pleased. If it meant going to Sunagakure and protecting the Kazekage, then she would do it to the best of her ability. It was the least she could do, after all of this time of being under his care and supervision. It's not that Danzou was ever fatherly, because she was certain those sorts of thoughts had never crossed his mind, nor would she ever have regarded him that way. She was, and continued to be, an asset, a weapon, nothing but a game piece on the board of his plans and schemes. But he had fed and clothed her, put a roof over her head, and given her a purpose, a reason to continue existing. He wasn't the horrible person that everyone assumed he was. She idly wondered why no one else could see that.

"I have a mission in Sunagakure. The Kazekage needs protection." Hitori slid the bag from beneath her bunk and pulled the mission folder from it slowly. The monkey-faced Anbu regarded his partner in silence for a long moment, his face slowly creasing into a look of amusement before he chuckled softly. Hitori sincerely didn't want to know why he was laughing when the matter was obviously serious to Danzou, and therefore also now serious to her.

Yomi finally decided to break the tension by speaking softly. "Sabaku no Gaara is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Why would anyone request help from Anbu to protect him? Especially Konoha Anbu. That's absurd. Whatever that old man has up his sleeves won't be pretty in the end, it never is…"

Hitori didn't feel the need to reply as she packed all of her slacks and black undershirts. The armor was washed everyday, and a secondary set of armor had never been issued, so there was really very little to pack. Her singular weapon of choice stayed in it's place on her back at all times, unless she was actually using it, and she owned no tiny personal belongings of any sort. She came to Konohagakure with nothing, and she would surely leave that way, having never felt the need to have anything silly little personal things of her own. Such a desire had, in fact, never crossed her mind, being just one of those strange things other people did.

Yomi glanced up and her eyes followed his to see an Anbu guard shadowing the doorway. "Hitori. The artistry has prepared you a new mask."

She didn't recall Danzou saying anything at all to her about a new mask, and she was oddly fond of the inu one she was currently wearing. Something like a small pang of regret seemed to sting at her heart before she pushed it away, having no time or desire for such feelings. Slowly, she rose from her spot on the floor and followed the Anbu down the dark stone corridors in her usual silence. Above all other things right now, she was mostly curious as to why she would need a new mask. That just didn't make sense to her, no matter what angle she looked at it from in her mind. Leaning down, she carefully ducked her way into the small, chilly room where the artists made the porcelain, painting each mask in traditional colors, creating small, simple and yet functional works of art.

Her jade eyes moved slowly over the long row of tables, over the ears and noses shaped into the various animals that the Anbu conceive of themselves as. As an Anbu your mask was chosen for you, and no one ever had the option of picking one for themself, much the same as the names they used. Hitori slowly stepped further inside the room, moving quietly over to stand behind the man who was seated with his back to her. His fingers rose almost lazily, pointing to the mask laying atop the small table next to him. It was the first time that she'd seen this type of animal on any Anbu mask, and when she picked it up and held it's weight in her hand, the complete irony of the chosen animal didn't take very long at all to hit her.

A raccoon mask.

Without a word, but bowing slightly to the artisan, she clasped the mask loosely in her hand, regarding it as she slowly made her way back to her room. One finger traced idly over the dark circles around the eye holes as she found herself wondering exactly what Danzou was implying by changing her mask. Obviously, it was directed towards Gaara himself, but to what end, exactly? What purpose did this serve.

Yomi looked up from his large bowl of noodles, his charcoal eyes musing at Hitori as she slowly brought her inu mask over her head with noticeable reluctance, and placed it gently on her bag. He raised an eyebrow at the look of deep thought on her face. She was a very difficult number to read, between her odd ways and having not said much over the past few years of working together on missions and assassinations. Rarely, if ever, did Hitori speak her mind, let alone speak at all. Yomi knew her enough to know when she wasn't pleased with something though. Even if the girl thought that she didn't have a personality, it was very much there, in every other aspect of her. Words weren't actually necessary when you spent that much time embroiled in dangerous circumstances with another person.

Wordlessly, Hitori lifted her hand up and turned the mask towards Yomi's inquiring eyes, which widened almost comically as he cracked a huge grin. "Why Hitori, I didn't know you were funny…"

She let her arm drop slowly back down with a soft sigh, and stood there taking it in. His teasing was deserved. After all, she made the mistake of showing the thing Yomi in the first place. His words continued, as much as she wanted to block them out, or shut him up, there was no use trying. When Yomi wanted to talk, there wasn't much anyone could do to divert him, something Hitori had learned the hard way.

"I mean really, you should show this side of you more often." Mixed honey and brown colored bangs hid the full potential of Yomi's amused glances towards her, as he continued to joke, "…I was getting pretty bored with laughing at the wall by myself, you know. You could at least make shadow puppets with me."

"I'd rather not."

An astonished gasp came from her partner, overdoing it as always and definitely enjoying the situation to it's fullest, as Yomi always did. "It speaks! And yet it only spoke to decline my friendly offer." A sad, puppy face followed his words. It was definitely going to be the full Yomi routine tonight, unless she somehow managed to cut him off before he could really get started.

"Tell me more about Gaara." As she held out her mission folder, she purposely made her voice louder than it would usually be, hoping to both distract him from his teasing, and gain a little more insight into the mystery of her assignment. For all of the information the Anbu Root had on Gaara, he still remained an enigma in her eyes, and she definitely didn't like heading into this situation with so many questions left unanswered.

"Only because you asked so nicely," Yomi's voice fairly dripped sarcasm, as he took the folder from Hitori's hand and flipped it opened. "What do you want me to start with? Chances are you've already studied this."

"I need to know everything, and somehow when you're reading it, I understand it better." She stretched out on her back on top of the thin lining of sheets and the hard padding they called a pillow, putting her hands behind her head and waiting to hear Yomi's voice, purposefully ignoring the surprised look on his face. He must've been thinking for as long as it took him to finally answer her.

"Are you going to close your eyes and pretend that your beloved Danzou is saying this to you?" He didn't wait for an answer, knowing that she would never reply to that question, but began reading instead. "January nineteenth, Gaara was born to the Fourth Kazekage of Sunagakure and his wife. Upon his birth, the Fourth Kazekage had the one-tailed beast, Shukaku, sealed inside of his son, in hopes of turning Gaara into the Suna's Ultimate Weapon…"

As Yomi continued to read, Hitori held the mask up above her head and stared into the empty, black ringed eye holes, trying again to think of a reason why Danzou would go out of his way to offend Gaara, or to even implicate irony. Those thoughts only lasted a few moments, and her cold eyes didn't waver - wondering wasn't good for her, either. As she placed the mask down on top of her bag alongside of her original mask, she realized she didn't completely hate the new, unique mask, but the more Yomi read, the more she started to dislike Gaara himself. He sounded like a selfish child, one of entirely questionable sanity, and she could fully understand why the village would hate, and fear him. Who would act as the Suna's weapon? And how could someone like that change the way he supposedly had, in such a short time? No, it just didn't make sense.

The young Anbu knew that she wouldn't get much sleep tonight, not with all of these questions about her new mission floating around in her head, and doing nothing more than raising new questions in their wake. It was apparently now a shared impossibility, as Yomi felt her uneasiness from the top of the bunk. There was a personal tie between Hitori and Suna. Even if she pretended to forget, or refused to recognize the odd, distorted fragments of memories during her waking hours, dreams flooded her mind with images of the past that Hitori couldn't normally place while she was conscious. These old memories she wanted to so badly to bury, and push away from her mind.

Little by little she had become more successful at it, and she certainly never grew more curious about the Sand village. Now, she was only curious about the boy that was to be protected, since doing so had become her mission. Certainly there would be some there, including Gaara himself, who would deny that he needed the protection at all, but that wasn't her concern. Danzou had ordered this, and she would die fulfilling the mission he'd given her, if her life was the required price. Hopefully, this Kazekage would turn out to be worth her life, but she had serious doubts as to whether that could be true, or not.

Tomorrow would be a long day.

Her eyes, which had drifted closed as Yomi's voice faded into a soothing background noise, suddenly flew open again as the words he was speaking registered in her mind. "The only person who had ever loved or cared about Gaara tried to kill him and asked him to 'please die'…" His words stuttered to a halt, as even Yomi was given pause by what he'd just read. Their eyes met and held for a long moment, each wondering as those words repeated over and over again in their minds. Hitori closed her eyes again, and allowed this information to mix with the rest drifting in her thoughts, wondering exactly what Danzou had dropped her into. Maybe Yomi had been right. This certainly didn't sound like it was going to be anything pretty in the end.

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Well, that's it's for the first chapter, guys! Whatcha think? Continue?