During the rest of the day, the redhead managed to end the trip on the rooftops safely, get back to his bed and get bored enough to do a couple of curious pushups – which had ended in feeling of something being torn inside him and the feeling of dizziness after a few minutes. As much as it was plainly stupid, he finally bended down to admit he probably made himself bleed internally (he just thought an innocent push up wouldn't hurt him!) and also – bowed down to the medic with embarrassment, admitting he had probably screwed up his work. That had resulted in a time spend in delirious narcotic state as he had to be ripped open again, and he had to be sedated enough for that. After that he slept for another couple of hazy hours. When he finally came to his senses it was night, and he had welcomed the tray of cold food near his bed with a happy sigh, even if it was only a thin chicken soup almost with no pasta and half of a dry bread. Only when he had ended sucking on the last droplets of the vitaminised mixture (he felt sloppily added sour and sweet pastilles to the salty water, not that he minded, it made the soup more interesting in taste) when he started enjoy his position. It was the first time since long time ago he could actually sleep and eat without a constant pressure on being affordable twenty-four per seven, without a need to get better immediately, without the people outside wanting him to be responsible, without an unstable psychotic kid being moody when he least needed him to throw adolescence tantrums. It almost felt like a gap in-between the stressful get away – the moment he could rest and count dots on the ceiling. And it was good.

'I almost forgot how it is to be a normal human.' he muttered to himself, daring to feel distaste at his position; the curiosity of how far his good state could stretch followed. He just couldn't help, but be curious. It was one of those imitating quirks that led him everywhere wrong in his life. Including the bijuus and meeting with the lethal sennin. But before he could think of doing something stupid, the need was addressed almost immediately. On the other side of the transparent glass a bird squawked and it the window with it's wings. Daichi watched it for a moment, surprised that any animal dared to be so arrogant within human's territory, when his face had changed. It was Washimoki, one of his most loyal summons. Apparently, this place – he still hadn't learned where 'this' was – was a station for his current journey. No wonder, since all roofs almost shone with small preys, along with shimmering waters that Daichi was sure had to contain fat and nutritious fishes.

Quietly, he got up from the bed and tip-toed to the window, watching the grey feathers and the headband on one of the stark yellow eyes. He hesitated from opening it, though.

'Washimoki?' he hissed at him in a whisper, just to be sure he was not wrong. The hawk let out a squeal, something on the side of the eagle's warning sign and the bark of a big shepherd's dog – and finally landed on the thin window sill on the other side.

'Brat, good to see you.' it said in a half-confidential tone, though it was obvious he was confused about the whole thing 'What are you doing here? I didn't hear you were going to visit the Bird Country.'

Oh, so it was a Bird country. The most obvious answers were the hardest to find. Daichi smiled lightly.

'I wasn't really planning on it.' he muttered, the crossed his arms 'And technically, I'm not even here.'

'Darn right, you're about to go to the chuunin exams in Konoha. What's going on?'

'I died, Washimoki. And the person that is going to Konoha is no more.'

The hawk stared at him, then squealed again, this time sounding more like a constipated frog.

'I don't like it, brat. I don't like it at all.' Then he had jumped from one side of the sill to the other, imitating the sparrow so well it wasn't even funny. Daichi, however, snorted in laugh. It was nice to know that the summon was getting so excited over this, at least one character was still missing him enough to shed a tear on his grave. 'Let me in, we'll talk.'

'I can't, Washimoki. Not now.' He said, leaning on the transparent glass a bit 'And I can't request nothing of you instead of not trying to get to Suna. It would be too dangerous, for both you and me.'

The grey feathers glinted when the bird looked to the side, and then moved his head upside down in a curious stare.

'But can I at least show up on breakfast?'

Daichi smiled at him. The always empty, hungry stupid sparrow.

'Yes, on breakfast, you can.' he said. The bird chirped like a nightingale and simply flew away, without goodbyes. Washimoki was not a bad bird. But that didn't mean he would summon him anytime soon. The redhead looked up at the sky, dotty with a handful of curious stars, light and not very dark. He wondered for a moment if the masked man had already discovered how the ointment worked or if he was too afraid to use it.

'Well, we will know tomorrow.' he said to himself with a light smile and got back to bed. Somehow, all that – the meeting, the walk, the sense of having vacations and the fact Ono was using his products – all together had lightened his mood. So when he slept, he really slept – and he had pleasant dreams.

Unlike the redhead, Ono didn't have dreams - good, bad or otherwise - he just slept uninterruptedly for about seven hours, before being roused by some shy knocking on the door. He sighed deeply, annoyed with his cloth mask (it felt humid enough to tell him he had likely drooled on it) and reached to rub at his eyes. Bird Country, Suzume Inn. And at the very least four hours before he had intended to wake up. By natural causes, if possible. How come he was feeling all the more tired since he picked up a ¾ dead Kazekage?

The knock came again, even lighter than before. As far as he could tell based on the area, it was someone around half his height. The little girl, then. He threw the blankets off, grumbling to himself something incoherent about having to remember to leave 'no-disturb' signs on the door next time- before letting the rest of the air out in a just as grumbled hiss. It seemed that his bruise had also woken up and decided to come bid him good morning, how well mannered. His fox mask came next.

Relaxing as much as he could so the muscles on his side wouldn't stress and pull at the area, he quickly moved to the door, throwing it open. There was a squeak, and all his good intentions on regards of pained sides went to hell when he had to quickly bend down to catch the tray before the soup fell on top of the little girl.

'S-sorry Ono-san!' she stammered, quickly scrambling back to her feet and bowing profusely.

'That's all right. How may I help you, Kasumi-chan?'

The girl, who was making a movement to reach for the tray again, immediately pulled her hands behind her back and took a step back.

'Uh-no, not really. I…' she licked her lips nervously, wringing the edge of her blue. 'Mama told me to bring you lunch.'

Obviously someone had, he doubted the girl would get close to him willingly, she was obviously terrified of him. The irony of life - she was perfectly content with bossing around Sabaku, who was far more likely to wring her little neck and throw her aside like a rag doll without batting an eye, yet it was him she distrusted. He always thought he had gotten himself used to living with a mask, and then these sort of things happened and made him realize he probably never would.

'I see. Please thank your mother from my part, Kasumi-chan, I'll bring down the tray in time for dinner.'

'Okay! I'll tell her right now!' the girl said, obviously relieved before running off, her bare feet tapping noisily against the hardwood floor. He was left staring after her - he would have liked to inquire what was his companions state, and given the lack of answers he should probably go check on him. His wool-filled mattress, however, made a point about reminding him it had only been a few hours and surely the man couldn't have done anything too damaging to himself in such a short time, right?

He inhaled his food as fast as humanly possible, not really tasting it and throwing manners to some corner where he could pick them back up when he actually needed them, then went back to bed. The whole bending to lay on it was far more annoying an experience than he would have liked, ad he found himself staring at the jar of ointment with curiosity. He didn't feel drugged - surely by now he would have some symptom if the stuff was poisonous, right? His wrist looked perfectly fine. It was even slightly cooler to the touch and he had to add more pressure than expected to actually feel it.

It couldn't hurt to try.

#+#+#+#+#+#

The next day surely started calmly. The sun rose without surprises, Daichi woke up rested and healed a bit more, the girl had brought him food that tasted still a bit dry and bland, but he still was starving enough to not complain – and the humidity was still high. A packet of birds was making a cacophony everywhere, the only stop being around the midnight and three hours until the – that's right, third in the morning. It was almost like if the life never went silent here. Daichi had only ended up drinking a sour plum tea while he tried to make a few sit downs with perfectly straight back, when he spotted the cloaked figure.

'Oh. Good morning.' he said, not putting down the cup as he made his twenty seventh sit down. He felt too relaxed to rush it. Ono calmly stepped in, then closed the door behind him, his slim figure and grossly tattooed arms once again covered from sight by the cloak. Like the cold, the humidity didn't seem to affect him much.

'Good morning.' he said evenly, the dark eye holes of the mask unmoving from his form. 'I'd like to know why my stomach was see through for most of yesterday.'

The redhead looked at him for a moment, then smiled, masking it quickly with another sip of tea.

'Maybe because you used the surgical ointment for precise operations?' he said thoughtfully, like if he was actually trying to help solve the problem instead of explaining it 'You know, seeing how everything works before the first cut is very helpful.'

'Funny, that's what Moroshita-sensei thought. After I interrupted his meal because I didn't know what was happening and thought my insides were going to fall out.' Then he threw the jar at the redhead hard as he could, straight to his face. The redhead caught it just in the nick of time before it broke his nose, but he also lost his balance and sat down straight on his ass. A bit of tea spilled on the floor in colorless droplets.

'Why are you so angry?' asked the redhead, this time inspecting the stain from the tea over his sleeve and simply deciding to leave it to dry 'I offered you something to cease your pain and you obtained that. This ointment is very good for stopping the pain, mostly because people get cut when it's applied. It does no harm, unlike the other oil I have and it can be used almost without limits. You should thank me.'

'I would thank you - nicely at that - if you had warned me of what it did.' The man said, no agitation as much as plain anger creeping into his voice. 'Especially after I asked. You are not the only one who dislikes not going what's going on with their own body, remember?'

Because apparently it was perfectly fine for the man to wake up after days of unconsciousness without knowing what had happened and demand answers, without letting the only person who had tried to help close unless he explained he was just trying to heal his chest when the idiot opened the makeshift stitches with his own struggling. The redhead didn't answer right away, but he looked at the mask for a moment or two in silence. Then he simply got back to drinking his tea.

'That was childish from my side, I apologize.' he said simply, looking off into the ceiling. As it seemed, the man behind that mask didn't try to even loosen up from time to time. Quite stressing, but then – all more admirable on battlefield. 'I can give you the other balm in apology, but it might make you sick with sea sickness and nail you to the toilet.'

'I think I'll pass, thank you.' the taller main stressed, or maybe he was still angry. For some reason the older man admitting to fault so easily didn't make him feel better, all the contrary actually. And he wasn't even sure why. Maybe because it was unexpected. Or maybe because he felt like still being angry at the man and it was childish on his part to remain so after an apology.

'Just… please don't do it anymore.'

He wondered how something you applied to your skin could upset your stomach. He wondered why the hell the man had it at all. Daichi snorted into his tea. Good grief.

'After what are you doing to my pretty sleeves I wouldn't even dream to.' he answered and drank it up till he hit the bottom of the cup 'You don't sound too convinced though. Want to hug it out?'

The taller man slowly pulled even further away, though it wasn't exactly in response to the offer itself. It was a good thing there was a mask between him and the world (oh irony of ironies) because his eyebrows didn't seem to be very sure about what they wanted to do. They seemed set between frowning suspiciously and trying to climb into his hair.

What was this - this attempt of a joke, of good humored sarcasm? It just seemed so... nice? He started wondering when he'd gotten so lonely talking with the Yondaime Kazekage made him think the man was friendly.

'Those are fresh bandages.' he said instead, making a small gesture to the white gauze peeking from the neck of the button down shirt the redhead was wearing. By all means, he should have been with it up on the air by now so the scab would dry up and heal faster. Daichi flashed him a smile, obviously amused by the reaction of the masked man. It looked almost like if the man was scared of him. He stopped enjoying such plays some time ago, but the man's gestures were bringing some good memories. Not that he wanted to mistake uncomfortableness for fear.

'Yes, new way of putting them on. Fashion does change around quickly, doesn't it?' he muttered as he moved his hand over the bandages with rather affectionate manner 'I think they bring out the color of my eyes, what do you think?'

Which was absolute piece of bullshit, because white didn't mix well with his dull black eyes – nothing actually did. But hey, he wasn't even serious here. Not that he wanted to take it to serious level. As if he had been traveling the same wavelength of a thought, Ono's answer is a simple

'Your eyes are black.'

And crossing his arms in front of his chest in such a way that seem to demand the redhead to explain why does he seem to need new bandages on wounds that should be well into healing by now. The redhead suddenly looked at him, his eyes opened wide, his expression surprised. A moment later he was up on his legs and walking close, not uncomfortably so, but enough to make whispering possible and thus – hearable.

'My god.' he muttered, then leaned even closer, lowering his voice to the whisper 'You remember my eyes' color? That's so… admirable!'

With that, he had leaned even closer, almost starring right into deep of the mask's sleets.

'…but masked men are not my type. I have to turn you down.' he muttered and sighed dramatically 'I know, I know, why the world is so cruel to us, people in love… but sadly, there's no solution to it… or is there.'

And with that, he moved his finger to the side of the mask, moving it down along the mask, but not pulling at it.

'Take it off, pretty boy, maybe I will change my mind.'

Ono didn't pull away or move off. The only real sign he gave of this affecting him in any way was the way his spine straightened, shoulders stiffening for a moment before being forced to loosen up.

'Why do you keep wanting to look under my mask?' he asked, hands loosening to his side, relaxed and ready. 'I told you, you won't like it.'

The unspoken threat carried on easily. I will make you regret it. He didn't know what the older man was trying to do or why he was acting like this, and it kept throwing him off. How did you treat a person who you expected to be so completely different to the way he apparently seemed to be? Like someone you are meeting just now? The idea amused him, rather than make him ill, which provably hinted that there was something wrong in his head. Why would he have any interest whatsoever with socializing with this man?

'Because I want to see who you are, even if I won't like it.' answered the redhead truthfully, his smile diminishing into seriousness 'I don't think I know many people who would make me really regret what I would see – and all of them are dead anyway.'

He stopped, looking at the mask, biting lightly at his lower lip. For once he was without make up, all washed off almost pedantically as he was having on some remnants of it when he was unconscious. It seemed that whomever had cleaned him – be it the old man or little girl – didn't know how to do it properly. He didn't blame them, he just felt comfortable when he finally got to do it himself alone. He smiled a bit humorlessly.

'What worse could it be than enemy himself?'

And with that, he took the mask off. Beneath there were green eyes. And not the right color, either - it seemed that whatever reference the taller man had taken wasn't accurate enough - because they were a vibrant green, not the soft shade of unpolished jade that his youngest had inherited. Soft mouth, plum lower lip and light brown brows, marked by pale hair. The features were wrong, all wrong. The jaw was too strong to be Karura, the nose was too small and feminine to be Yashamaru, and all the jutsu managed was to make its user look like both the twins, rather than a specific one.

'… I'm no one you would know.' Ono said, his voice softer, the right pitch to be just androgynous enough without him trying to downright imitate the man's wife or in law. 'And if I were an enemy, it would have been easier to let you die. You apparently are more trouble than your worth.'

And he pushed at the man's chest, over the new bandages. Again, it wasn't a hard push, just a means to pull him away while purposely inflecting some pain, the mask being readjusted back in place as the other took a step back. Daichi stumbled a step away, not losing balance, but letting the push overtake him for a moment. His neutral face still stayed intact, even if he stared at the man more like at something he had never seen before in his life than at imitation of his wife and in-law.

'Your jokes are in terrible taste.' he finally said, blinking the expression away and massaging the spot where he was pushed at 'Obviously, you're someone that had been winding around for more than twelve years, or else how would you know how my wife looked like? The body had been buried deep with all the images at her death.'

And that was a lie, a blank white lie as images were buried, but in the place of the body. The thing that could be called Karura had fell and spreaded around in a gruesome, grotesque shapes, until it learnt it could take solid forms, one of them being a gourd, endlessly strapped to his youngest back. He could hear it whisper sometimes. That was a bad memory.

'Maybe I should learn my place and go for a walk.' said Daichi slowly and looked at the wall. Bad memories left bad aftertaste. 'The air in this room is suffocating.'

'I haven't, actually. I never thought I'd meet you, out of anyone else in the continent.' the man said truthfully, not that he sounded like if he actually expected the redhead to believe him. 'You are not particularly liked outside of your village, Hiiro-san. You shouldn't be surprised there's this much information about you. All it took was a messenger bird and some money and I got a lot more than I would have expected. One would think favorite color and food wouldn't be important to ninja files, but…'

The redhead turned around, his face actually shocked for one second, maybe two. Then, after a moment of hesitation, it fell back in the place.

'Suna is a rotten apple after all.' he muttered and looked out of the window 'I'm not sure why would you need to know what's my favorite color is but for such information you can ask me directly.'

'It just came with the usual stats.' the man asked, finally seeming to be satisfied with how the mask was set and adjusting the hood in his cloak. '…are you really allergic to hay?'

The redhead frowned at the words, but he smiled.

'No, whoever wrote something stupid like that?' he said, not turning around 'Only because I live on the desert doesn't mean I'm allergic to living forms of greenery. Why, are you?'

Well, the truth was that he lied. He was allergic to it, no doubt about it. But he lived too long to not search for a medication for it, which he found (well, partially) and then, he had this operation on his face… if he acted careful enough, he could hide it. Too many openings wouldn't be good, especially in front of someone who did everything to hide his identity from him, even after all he did for him.

'Yes.' the man answered, not seeming to be the least inclined to clarify what sort of greenery he was referring to. Without another word, he walked to the window, opened and calmly walked outside, a small flock of birds chirping indignantly about the invasion before settling down. The redhead watched him for a moment in silence, then smiled – a bit happily, a bit bitterly. Well, he was traveling with an allergic masked man, and he was already doubting about one of those things – and that wasn't his sex. Not yet, at least.

Looking around, he slowly doned his clothes and small make up, that could be easily taken as the make up of a female. Then, he henged himself into an average looking girl with no special features, hiding short red hair under the scarf. After that, he took a long walk into the town. That included visiting the park that seemed to be free to walk around for everyone, tracing small… objects, he could identify as birds mixed with bugs and stealing a packet of weird looking seeds that were warmed up to white puffs. It served him as a dinner, as they didn't taste bad, but weren't really all that filling. He had no regrets over what he did – in the end, he was now a dead person, and dead people couldn't be accused of stealing, right?

As nobody had pestered him, he made a round to the lake, where he looked at the surface, then walked three steps into it, surprised that water left in the open felt so chilly, and after all those exciting events he came back to his room – with scarf covering one of his eyes, empty bag of puffy seeds and an image that melted up a little and made his legs get really corny man hair – just in time to wash off the make up, undress and lay down, before the real dinner arrived. Now, after he ate weak soup with bread he could easily say he felt better. When Ono came back, it was much later at night, and the redhead was reading either something he'd found on the inn or some book he'd salvaged from his own house.

'Did you get any new holes on yourself while I was gone?' the man asked in what could almost be mistaken as a friendly manner, leaving a paper package with a few greasy spots on top of the nightstand, then producing from somewhere in his person a small, round and green object that he left next to it. The redhead looked up at him, then at the greasy paper bag, wary, but not alarmed yet.

'Not this time.' he answered almost drowsily, smudging the tones with low tone of voice 'But if that doesn't suit you, I can repair this mistake.'

His eyes looked back again to the stand, watching the round green object. With marking the page in a book by lightly tearing the paper, he rose his eyebrow in amusement.

'What is it, are you trying to buy a special place in my heart with this?' he muttered 'Where are the candles and sexy music then?'

'Sorry, I'm not interested in necrophilia.' The younger man said in an agreeable tone, going back to the window and leaning against the sill. 'I couldn't stand eating here another night and found a great place to eat. Decided to be nice and bring you something.'

'Maybe it's not about sex, but for sure it's about money.' said the redhead and hesitated with his hand above the paper bag. Then, he moved to the green fruit and picked it up. 'I haven't seen this thing for years. In Suna, if you were rich, you could eat one every few months. If you were crazy, you sell your house for ten of them.'

He moved with his nail over the skin and made it break lightly. The fresh smell of citrus filled the air, though barely as harshly as lemons of oranges. He looked up at the man and left the fruit on his lap as he looked at the bag again.

'Are you sure you're not onto something?'

'Kasumi-chan's mother is a terrible cook.' the man said lightly. 'If you are to heal faster, you better eat something better than that soup… Not than anything else on the menu is much better.'

'It's nice to hear you grew so much attached you care what I eat.' said Daichi, eyeing him for a moment, distrust easily displayed in them with… curiosity once again. The cloaked man had some irk about him that when he started thinking that maybe they weren't going to get along after all, got back on him somehow. He didn't know if it was good or bad – more like bad, because he stole the most private files about him and now had several more ways of knocking him out and roasting on small fire – the problem was that he found those game quite silly and that meant it worked. Not fully, not potentially, but his awareness was knocked out for a second or ten and that was good enough to say he was not watching his back as much as he should've. He opened the greasy paper bag slowly, not taking his eyes off the masked figure, slowly breathing with scent of pomelo filling the air. If it was poisoned by poison traceable with smell, he'd recognize it.

Maybe it was other way around. Maybe it was actually the guy behind that mask who actually let his awareness lay down for a moment and got into more human motives. Just like when he saved his life. What a soft hearted guy then… Interesting.

He finally allowed himself to look inside the bag, not really expecting anything. He had no knowledge about the cuisine of this place. They could as well eat earth or ice. It wasn't anything as foreign as that. It was something as common and simple as a flat bread chicken sandwich. A very nice looking one at that. It seemed to be chicken breast resting in lettuce and tomato, with tiny bits of red pepper for spice and melted cheese on top, which seemed to be the source of the grease stains. When the redhead finished unwrapping it, two lone sachets of mustard fell down.

'What?' was the only reaction.

'...food.' the taller man said, sounding almost pleased with himself. 'Great food, actually.'

The redhead looked at it and turned it upside down, looked at it again and then turned it around.

'…knife?...' he asked finally, looking a bit lost about where to bite or how to bite it. It seemed to be pretty big, which included him opening his mouth wide which was very ungrateful and of bad taste. At least for what he had learned for his pasty forty years. But at least when he opened one of the sachets the smell felt familiar. Much more chemical, but still known to his nostrils. He finally decided to open up the sandwich and eat each piece on its own, covering it with mustard patiently. However, when he tried to bite at tomato, it slipped and fell on the bed, staining it with juice and light red drops left by the seed. He looked at it, baffled.

'…you brought it laugh at me or to take pleasure in the fact I've reverted to eating like three years old?' he asked finally, picking up the wet tomato slices again.

Ono had the gall to quickly nod in agreement, not even attempting to pretend his intention had been anything different.

'Oh, yes.' he said, one hand slipping somewhere beneath his cloak at around the tight area and coming out with a thin dagger-like slice of metal with only a small curl of non-cutting edge metal to call a handle. He inspected it for a moment, put it back in place and produced its bigger brother from somewhere else in his anatomy, throwing it to the redhead. 'It's easier if you keep it in the wrapper.'

The redhead caught and frowned a bit, but the humor swam on his lips like a droplet of oil on water.

'Thank you.' He said, slowly cutting the thing in pieces, fully intentionally not addressing how nice the talk went and how smoothly it glided over. They were developing a gag language. What an adjustable joyous moment. 'For your effort, I mean. This food is delicious.'

'It's no effort. This is Bird Country after all.' the man said, leaning amore comfortably against the window frame. 'Makes sense their poultry will be good.'

After suffering for over three nights the completely uninspiring culinary creations of Kasumi's mother, he had been more than ready to try his luck at the numerous street stands. Generally he stayed away from them because one never really knew what you were being really given, but the one lone stand had called his attention. It brought back nice memories of what his life had been before this whole nightmare started… and he actually could see the way the food was prepared, and the hygienic measures were acceptable.

'It's a small stand about a dozen meters behind the fountain.' he said after a moment, waiting for a few seconds before producing a bag of money and leaving it on the dresser. 'You should try going there in the next day, provided you don't' accidentally trip on something and rip yourself something new.'

'Oh, how rude of you, I'm not that old yet.' muttered the redhead around the mouthful of tomato he had immediately swallowed. The difference in quality and taste of food from the house and outside it was outstanding 'Or is it a wishful thinking?'

'My wish is for me to come back and hear you are all better; instead of Moroshita-san telling me how unfortunate it is to have your organs falling off different places of your anatomy and there's no helping it but to wait for you to be cooperative.' The only way to figure out the man was playing at humor was the level of seriousness on the works that followed. 'I'm going out for a couple days. Think you'll be good to move when I come back?'

The redhead slowly lowered down his knife, looking at the masked face, his jaw moving in monotone motion, prolonging the silence. So, he was moving away. Now? Without him?

'How can I know you will be back?' he asked. How could he? There was nothing easier than leaving him off, now when he was at safe hands, without danger looking from around the corner, away; if he was on his place, he'd reconsider that too. The guilty was best left behind at the best conditions met. He looked sharply at the man and at his hands. That would explain this weird gift. 'How can I know you're not leaving me behind?'

The cloaked man cocked his head in that same curious gesture from before.

'Why would I leave you behind?'

In some manner he found sort of cute that the other would ask something like this – that he would believe he was just going to leave like that, not the man himself, obviously - apparently the Kazekage was getting attached to him or something. Yet another thing he would never had expected from this person.

'I was planning to go alone on this trip, but I've already told you I think you could be a valuable ally, and I still intend to bring you with me.' Maybe you just cured broken little birds only to release them when they were all better, but the man with the white gauze wrapped around his chest and enviable dark red hair was anything but.

'I got information about a group of criminals. I'll be going after them.' Ono adjusted his cloak and walked to the window, clearly intending to leave. 'I've been doing this while you were unconscious too, how do you think I've been financing our stay? Apparently people of your social stature don't come cheap.'

'I thought you did this on pretty eyes.' muttered Daichi, then got back to chopping the sandwich once again. Group of criminals, huh. Not one, but a few… this couldn't be a very young rookie – unless he was a killing machine. One person didn't go after bunch of criminals solo. 'This still says nothing. Leave a proof you're coming back, or I'm coming with you.'

That almost made the taller man stumble. If it had been anyone else, he would have laughed I off, because, what the hell. All it would take was one punch for the man to be reduced to a writhing and probably rather bloody mess on the floor. How did he expect to be able not only to keep up with him, but to keep up with the very dangerous people who would want to kill him?

'I'm a bounty hunter, your highness.' Ono crossed his arms in front of his chest, turning him into an interrupted mass of dark clothing from head to toe with the sole exception of the mask. 'I don't do charity. You can be sure I will be back to collect my debt. The fact I haven't exchanged you for some reward so far should be proof enough I don't plan on leaving you.'

'You look like death to me.' said Daichi, watching the shiny cloak glisten in the pale light of the evening. It was somewhat scary, but then, knowing the attitude of Ono, he wasn't half as scared as he was for the first time he met him. The fact his enemies didn't have this advantage made him smirk under his nose. 'And death doesn't go back on its words. But if you're lying, you can be sure I will hunt you down and abuse you for that humiliation.'

'Don't be so paranoid.' the man said, though there was no ill intent in his voice. 'If I wanted to leave I would have long ago. Try to listen to Moroshita-san this time and finish getting healed. We'll have to hurry when we get back.'

He had already packed everything and kept it in his scrolls for safe keeping. He had also turned his room in- if he wasn't going to be in it, there was no sense of paying for it, was there?

'We will be going to Ame next, so get everything you might need for traveling.' He wasn't sure how a Sunanin would fare on a country that was 94.5% constant raining, but he hoped it would be better than he had been at the mountains. Either way, it would be better for the redhead to get proper clothing to face such weather. Either way it was nice to know it wouldn't be the redhead who would try to go on his own forcing him to chase after him as he had initially feared would be the case. It was such an uplifting thought he even smiled behind his mask, before remembering to warn the redhead it was monsoon season. At the mention of Ame, the face of redhead had changed from gloomy to surprised and then to shining. Amegakure, the land of wars, poverty and grief that never got away. Who'd have suspected.

'Are we really?' he said in the questioning voice and then smiled. 'Now isn't that wonderful.'

Neverending rain meant neverending supplies of water. It was something completely different and so completely unexpected. Any Sunanins muttered to each other they'd escape to the land 'where water never stops flowing'. Such land was the land of Ame. And with how dirty it was it was far from paradise, being in ranks even lower than sinking Suna, but dreams were for free and nobody really tried to think about the escape for serious. The idea of entering the place ridden with water tickled him nicely around the stomach. He looked at the money.

'I have to buy new coat.' he said and smiled to himself. 'I'll be ready in no time. So you'd better hurry back.'

Ono gave him a weak nod before jumping out of the window, shaking his head at the angry squawks and chirping he got in responded by the settling birds. He ignored them and continued walking, letting them shuffle awkwardly away and then back over his steps, and he was only two buildings down when he had to stop because there was a noticeably larger, silver-grey hawk settled right on the middle of his path. It glared at him evilly with its single golden eye as if daring him to try and push him away from the path, and for a moment he actually considered letting it go flying via kick propulsion. In the end, he settled for sighing and jumping off the roof, preferring the less cluttered paths of the streets, where people had the decency to get out of his way instead of glaring at him as if they wanted an excuse to tear out his eyes.

He didn't really think it was cowardly. This was Bird Country, after all, and didn't seem smart to mess with the biggest part of the population needlessly. The hawk looked like a war bird, and who knew if it's extended family was around. The bird watched him go until he became only one of many cloaks in the crowd. Then it mustered a bit the feathers on it's left wing and flied away, just to land at the open frame of the window. Daichi greeted him with a slight nod,

'The cloaked person stood on my way but I shunned him.' squawked Washimoki instead of greetings 'I made him leave my path!' And with that, he jumped on the rail like an overgrown sparrow, visibly proud and excited at the same time.

'He was so scared he left! Sooo scarrreeed…' was almost purred out in parroty manner when suddenly the yellow eye turned toward Daichi like a gun and stilled in half of the step. Daichi looked back.

'What is it?...' asked the animal 'What is it, what is it, what are you eating?' he squawked like an annoying little squeak toy and flapped its wings a bit, once again jumping like a sparrow. The redhead wondered whether he had some ancestors in that side of the bird tree or was it only influence of sitting around different birds all the time.

'It's a sandwich.' he said around one of the last bites 'Catch.'

The thrown piece of bread was caught in less than a second. Daichi smiled a bit as he only now noticed how the big bird was on his lap before he could blink. However, he munched on the bread, making such a mess that instead of scary, he looked more of funny.

'Not so fast, you'll choke.' He muttered, knowing very well that animal will ignore him anyway. Then he looked at the knife and hid it under his pillow. He had so much to do. Company of his summon was something he thrived for, but knew he couldn't have. So he watched him for a few more minutes and sent him away. Washimoki, unhappy at that, seemed to linger at the window aimlessly for a few more minutes, trying to tell him the hottest news that fled around the bird groups there, but as much as Daichi was happy to listen to something new, the pink feathers of new generation of toucans was not really in the range of his interests. Happily, he threw bit of cheese through the window and when the hawk flew after it, he closed it, ignoring the outraged squawks about how he cheated on the bird with something that wasn't edible at all. He chuckled to himself a bit.

'Sorry, Washimoki' he murmured 'But this is something old men like me have to do alone.'

With that, he started packing.