IMPORTANT:

This is a draft and is subject to change. You will be notified in the chapters to come if/when to go back and read said change. Got it? Good. Rest of the A/N is optional, so you can just skip if you want.

LESS IMPORTANT (BUT STILL, SORTA IF YOU DON'T WANNA BE SCARRED FOR LIFE):

So, this is just something that I had to get out of my system, and seems to be doing so in great quantities, so you can expect updates to be every wednesday. Yes, you heard it here first, Folks. Every. Fucking. Wednesday. Also, it should be noted that this is 18+ in later chapters and readers that are faint of heart should stop right here. In fact, you should leave. NOW. There. That is my official warning. You have been waaaaarned... -ominous note- (seriously)

Oh, and I'm only going to do this once:

NARUTO IS NOT MINE.

(And screw you Kishimoto. There, I said it.)

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU TRY TO RUN

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck!" I cursed loudly as I hopped on one foot, pulling my shorts on one leg at a time and gradually making my way over to the door of my apartment. No time to eat. Fuck. Late. Fuck. Araaaagh! Fuck everything!

I bust out the door and down the hall, surprising, and nearly knocking over my curious, dark haired neighbor—most likely due to all the racket and clattering that could sometimes be heard from behind my walls—that I'd never bothered to learn the name of. He'd never bothered to learn mine either, and honestly, that was just fine with me. I didn't get along with people my age. Never had. It just didn't work that way.

But I at least had enough common courtesy to cast a cursory, "Sorry!" over my shoulder at the scowling boy. Grumpy kid. I don't think I'd ever once seen him smile. Kind of creepy, actually...but that was none of my business, and I didn't really have a lot of room to talk. Nor did I have the time.

"I'm here!" I held both my arms up in a 'ta da' gesture as I burst through the door.

The matron sent me a dry look and replied, "Congratulations...you're late, Yuka."

"I know that," I huffed, dragging my feet as I plodded across the floor to collapse in the chair in front of her desk temperamentally. In my orphanage days, the chair had been a sacred sort of place. Kind of like the feeling you'd get from a sacrificial altar. It was the chair you either got adopted in, or received punishment in. Neither one was particularly pleasant. I mean, adoption... Maybe it was the stuff of dreams for other kids, but for me... I didn't like to think about it. As for punishments, I'd been there just about as many times as Naruto had been back in the days before he got himself kicked out. I almost felt a little sorry for him, but he sort of brought it on himself. And that's how I got the genius idea of joining the academy.

They practically paid you to become a ninja—and it had an amazing benefits program for orphans. Three guesses why... In any case, that's how I got my first apartment. But as for becoming a ninja, I was even more abysmal at it than Naruto. And unlike him, I just didn't care enough to keep trying. He got pissed at me when I left after a year. I think he saw me as a sort of comrade in failure or something of that ilk. But unlike him, I wasn't completely sucked in by the ninja art of brainwashing. I'd only ever been at the academy for one purpose, and one purpose only. And that was to use academy student financial aid until such time I got a good enough job to pay for my gift apartment all on my own. I was quite proud of my achievement.

And I was still paying back debt at age twelve, but happily, I was almost scot free. Whenever I went in for job interviews and retold the story, I think people were either kind of impressed with me, or plainly shocked at the gall it took to manipulate the system in such ways. As far as I was concerned, the academy could suck it. I could manage just fine without being a ninja, thank you very much. And it was this self reliant attitude that earned me most of my jobs. The only charity I accepted now was from the matron, who knew me well enough to disguise it as a work opportunity.

"We missed you today at breakfast," she informed me without expression. "I had Mika cover for you, but the children were disappointed at the absence of your famous 'cinnamon buns.' I expect you to make it up to them."

I let out a sigh. "Crap..."

I started to run through my list of excuses, but really, besides the truth—which I refused to admit, especially to someone who knew me as well as the matron did—there wasn't much I could get passed her. She was one of those no bullshitting types. And it was with the blank, no bullshitting face that she told me, "They're out in the yard right now. Go see if you can make yourself useful."

Another sigh, and, realizing there was no way I could win here, I replied with a defeated, "Okay..."

But honestly, I have to say, though I didn't get along well with kids my age, the younger ones made excellent little minions. Not to mention, they were easy to throw around. And the best part is that they just got right back up and threw themselves at you again with a smile on their faces. It was kind of funny. It made me laugh at least. And when you laughed, they laughed.

"Alright brats!" I hollered. "Line up!" There was a struggle and a clamor as the tiny midgets complied—insubordination was not on my list of things that I tolerated. After they all stood at attention, I calmly walked to the two kids in the middle, a brown haired girl and a green haired boy, and swung my arm down between them in a slicing motion. "Alrighty, Mousy," I gestured to the girl. "You're the leader of the red team."

"M-me?" The bespectacled girl blinked several times.

"Yup," I agreed, then looked at the spiky green haired boy, "Sparky, you're team blue."

He crossed his arms and pouted, "I wanna to be on the red team!"

"Cry me a river," I told him blankly for all the fucks I gave, then hollered, "Team placements are final people! Everyone on Mousy's side, you're team red! Everyone on Sparky's, you're blue! Got it!?"

Then, with my makeshift bat, fashioned from rebar and a piece of scrap metal I found lying around, I drew a large diamond in the dusty play yard. Home base was a broken wheel, first was an old stained mattress I dragged out from the dorms, and second and third were similar items of disrepute—as in, no one would miss them if they got trampled to death. "Kay, folks, team red, you're with me, Sparky, take this—" I handed him the bat, and pointed to the wheel. "Have your lot line up over there. Try not to hit anyone in the face with that. Your job is to hit this—" I held up an apple sized festival ball in front of his face, "—as hard as you can without ripping your little arms out of their sockets. Got it?" He looked between it, and the nasty looking rebar club he now had in his hands and grinned. He didn't seem too bothered over the team colors any longer, and scampered off for first base, rounding up his team enthusiastically as he went.

"U-umm...Yuka-nee-san?" Mousy tugged on my sleeve uncertainly. "A-are you sure I'm the right person for this game?"

I considered her for a second, then questioned, "You like playing shougi, right Mii-chan?" She nodded hesitantly, and I continued, "Plus, you know everyone here pretty well, right? You watch people, and know their strengths. That makes you perfect for this game." I pointed out left and right field, explaining the rules loudly for everyone to hear, then returned to the girl. "Now, can you name everyone who's left handed?"

Mii blinked her magnified eyes again, and nodded. "Shinji and Misaki. They're both on the blue team though..."

"Alright. Here's how it works. When those two come up to bat, the ball is going to fly into the left field because they're left handed. But since most people are right handed, it's mostly going to fly into the right field. So, unless those two are batting you're going to want your strongest players to be in right field—just have them switch over when either Shinji or Misaki come up, you don't want any surprises there—and center field has the most ground to cover, so you want your fastest players there. Plus you've got a cutthroat shouji strategy, so I'm sure that'll help you out even more. You're calling the shots here, Kid. You can do it. Just imagine you're standing on a board."

Comprehension dawned on her and she nodded. "O-okay! I'll try my best!"

"Good luck then," I nodded back, then hollered, "Alright, places people! Everyone get where you're supposed to be! I'm pitching, cause I don't trust any of you nose wipers as far as I can throw you!" Which was actually pretty far. It was the only thing I was ever good at in the academy. Aim, shoot, fire. That, I could do in my sleep.

Sparky ended up being the most aggressive player on the field, while Mii showed her true stripes when she displayed a surprising efficiency in fighting dirty. Their teams followed suit, but when it came down to a winner...yeah, Mii's strategy was pretty scary. I ended up having to patch up most of blue team in the infirmary, and it wasn't even lunch time yet. Wait. Lunch. Oh, shit, I was going to be late again!

"Bye! Byeeee!" the kids waved and shouted as they stood at the gates of the orphanage play yard, crowded around the matron who had this strange little smile on her face as she watched me high tail it out of there, shaking kids off my legs.

"Yeah, yeah, stay frosty!" I shouted back, and hollered over my shoulder, "Oi, Sparky! Try not to hit yourself in the head with the bat again! Keep your eye on the ball next time!"

The kid with the bandaged head shouted some choice curses at me, but I didn't catch it as I rounded the corner, booking it to the bakery. It was amazing that I actually managed to get there on time, but I nearly ran into my neighbor again, this time having to make windmills with my arms and skidding to the left to avoid flattening him. Unfortunately, he was with his team, and I actually did end up trampling Naruto in order to miss him. I actually sort of felt sorry for my guy, now. No wonder he was always so grumpy. Naruto could make anyone have a brain hemorrhage.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally got through the door, and smiled when I breathed in the heavenly smell of fresh baked bread. I closed my eyes and followed the scent like a hypnotized victim. People said that I had talent in the culinary field, but Hanako could do magic. She could be annoying, but she was also practically the only person in Konoha I gave a crap about. Plus, she'd been friends with my parents at one point...so yeah.

"Cuttin' it a little close there, huh?" She laughed as she removed a pan of loafs from the brick oven.

I rolled my eyes. "People are always getting in my way."

"Ya ever think you don't take enough time to look where you're going first? I've lost more merchandise than I can count from you trippin' all over the place." She shook her head with a smile.

Cringing slightly, I shrugged. "There's a reason I dropped out of the academy, you know. I'm about as coordinated as a rock. You knew this when you hired me."

"I hired ya 'cause you're a damn good pastry chef," she grinned at me with a shrug of her own, "and I gain more than I lose by teaching you. Maybe I can even retire one day, and you can take over here. What d'ya say?"

"No way. You already know, the first chance I get, I'm getting the hell out of this place," I grumbled at her as I tied on my apron and restrained the unruly mint green curtain that was my hair.

She sent me a wry smirk. "Ya never know...you might just find someone ya like one day. Settle down, have a few kids..."

I rounded on her and gave her a disgusted look. "Ugh!? Why? Why even bring that repulsive image up in my head?! Me? Settle down? Never!"

"Like I said..." She sang, twirling away with her loafs and pinching my nose teasingly as she went, "ya never knooooow..."

I rubbed my nose grudgingly, then stopped, looking down at my hand with a sigh. Now I had to wash them again. I was a bit of a clean freak when it came to baking. Who wants to eat something made by someone who just rubbed their snotty nose? Certainly not me. Made me shiver just as much as getting married and settling down in the future did. And even if it happened, hell, it wouldn't be in Konoha... All this place was to me was just a bad memory everywhere I looked...

I was just taking the anpan out when the front door slammed open and when I looked up, I groaned, "Oh great. What the hell are you doing here?"

"You knocked me over, remember?!" The orange menace shouted, pointing his finger at me. "Apologize!"

I sent him a dry look, placing the anpan on the display shelves slowly as I replied with an affirmative, "...I decline."

"Why youuuu!" He looked about ready to pounce over the counter and give me an old fashioned beat down like I used to give him every time he pissed me off, but it was just my luck a girl about our age came in and beat him to the punch.

"NARUTO!" She slammed her fist into his head and the blond crumpled to the floor like a sack of potatoes, clutching his cranium. "You can't just come in and threaten people! What the hell is your problem!?" It was only during her mini rant that I noticed the poor son of a bitch she was dragging behind her.

"Oh," I stared. "It's you." I rubbed the back of my head sheepishly as he fixed me with a dark glare. "Uh, hey, sorry for this morning...and earlier...and all the other times too, actually..." Various recollections of nearly mowing him down in the hall on multiple other occasions vaguely began to surface in my mind.

I swear, I think his eye twitched as he grumbled out, "You need to watch where you're going..."

"You know what, Bastard?" Naruto hopped back up as if the monster hit he'd just taken from the girl hadn't even phased him. "For once, I actually agree with you! And you! Quitter!" He rounded back on me. "Why the hell are you apologizing to him!? I'm the one you ran over!"

I winced as his shrill voice pierced my eardrums and shook my head. "You know what? You're right. Here. Take this." I handed out three good sized anpan loafs to each of them. "My gift to you. On the house."

It shut Naruto up in no time, the girl accepted hers politely and with an apology of her own for Naruto the 'special' ninja, but when it came to the third one, my neighbor, he just stared at the offering like it was sludge. His eyes then flicked back to me and he mumbled, "I don't like sweet things."

I could feel the faint furrow lines between my brows becoming more pronounced as I glared back at him, not retracting my offering and letting out a warning growl. The message was clear. I don't give a shit about your likes and dislikes. Just take it, and get the fuck out. Take the orange one with you.

This is why I did not get along with people my age. Or much of anyone really.

After a long stare down, in which I did not blink, nor did I relent on the anpan, he seemed to get the picture, and grabbed the bun disdainfully with a grunted, "Let's go," to his companions. He seemed to be the leader of the sorry crew, though Naruto glared at him like he was some sort of dark evil overlord or something. Their exit, however, was blocked by a tall, silver haired man with a hitai-ate for an eyepatch. Ninja not pirate, I reminded myself. That's important.

"So this is where my cute little students have snuck off to." He remarked dryly, his visible eye—the only visible part of his face, really—casting around the establishment with no small amount of disinterest.

"So these are your kids, eh, Kakashi?" Hanako slunk out from the back tossing a good sized hunk of dough between one flour dusted hand to the other. She sent me the evil eye and questioned, "Givin' away merchandise, are we, Yuka?" I sent her a long suffering stare and gestured to Naruto wordlessly. Taking in the implications of that, she shook her head and laughed. "You really need to work on your people skills."

"I don't get paid for that." I pointed out.

"You will if ya want that raise you've been bugging me about."

I stormed quietly to myself.

"I see you've taken on a student as well." The man called Kakashi leaned against the counter towards Hanako. "That's unlike you."

She raised a brow in reply, slapping the kneaded dough down on the back counter and folding her arms over her chest, "Look who's talkin', Mr. Straight-laced. I thought you hated kids."

"Not so," He protested. "It's only the especially stupid ones I can't stand."

I sent him on odd look and pointed out Naruto. "Then why is he on your team?"

"Oh yeah!?" He exploded at me, "That's rich coming from a quitter like you! At least I graduated!"

I scowled at him. "For the last freaking time, graduating was never the goal for me. I learned my times tables, and how to throw a weapon without poking my eye out—unlike some people—and then I decided that being a genin doesn't pay as well as the job I've got now. So the choice was simple, really. I make more in one week than you can make in an entire month. You can't argue with facts."

Naruto looked like he was about to rage at me again about quitting and giving up, but Kakashi spoke first. "That is true... Genin work in teams, and have to split the mission pay with the entire unit, however, if you really applied yourself, you could make jounin like me, and I can make more in one day than you can make in a year." His eye crinkled at me happily, and I stared at him with a clenched jaw.

After a long, tense moment, I let my jaw relax. He was right, after all. But I told him frankly, "Let's just be honest here. Someone like me would never make jounin, even if I wanted to give up my freedom to go anywhere I please and tie myself down to a village that let my parents die."

"Yuka," Hanako reprimanded firmly, her voice wiped clean of her usual unidentifiable accent as it usually was when pressed. "Watch your mouth. It's going to get you into a lot of trouble someday if you're not careful."

"It's not your job to worry about me... Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to work. " I mumbled without apology, turning to put the rest of the anpan in the display case, and relaying insincerely to the dark haired one without looking up, "Nice talking to you, Neighbor. I'll try not to knock you over the next time I'm running late. Enjoy the sweet stuff. Maybe it'll wipe that awful look off your face. You might actually be easy on the eyes if you smiled every once and a while."

"That was actually a complement," Hanako told the boy gently. "Yuka is harsh with her words, but she means well..."

"I could care less." He replied, aiming one last unpleasant face at me before turning on his heel and heading towards the door. "I'm leaving, with or without you guys."

The pink haired girl who looked like she'd been about to shout at me for a second turned to run after him, "Sasuke-kun! Wait for me!"

"S-sakura-chan!" Naruto looked nervous about letting the two of them be alone, then aimed one last glare at me, "This ain't over, Quitter! I'll be back!"

He was out the door before I could profess my enthusiasm on that point.

Hanako looked thoughtful though and stared out the door after them before glancing back at Kakashi with intrigue, "Naruto and Uchiha Sasuke, eh? Which one of the higher ups did you piss off?"

The man seemed to sag slightly and he sighed, "I have no idea..."

"Listening to adults complain is annoying," I remarked idly, my concentration only half on what they were saying and the other half on icing a cupcake.

After a moment of silence, Kakashi told Hanako, "Looks like you've got your work cut out for you as well."

She smiled at him. "You have no idea."

He bought some dango before he left—something about heading down to T&I and someone named Anko being more merciful with the stuff in her system. The rest of the day was fairly busy, with no time to even get a word in edgewise between the two of us. While Hanako stood upfront and kept the customers happy, I was in back, up to my elbows in rice flour. It was a long day, but it was work. Work meant business and any business was good business in my opinion. I got paid by the hour, after all, and the more the hours stacked up, the happier and more financially secure I would be. In theory, anyway.

"Ya know, that kid..." Hanako said slyly to me as we were cleaning up for the day. "The one you called easy on the eyes? He's your neighbor?"

"Don't put words in my mouth." I huffed wiping down the counter aggressively with a hole-ridden cloth. "I said he might be easy on the eyes if he smiled. And he never smiles... It's always like his face is stuck in this same constipated expression—"

"You sure seem to notice a lot about him..." she hummed with a smile playing around her lips.

I stopped in the motion of scrubbing at a sticky spot and pegged her with a look. "Don't go there. I don't even know the guy's name. He's just my stupid, stuck up neighbor. That's it."

She 'hmm'ed and the smile faded a bit when she mentioned subtly, "Ya ever notice that his parents never seem to be home...?"

I paused again, and stared at her. "...How do you know something like that?"

Hanako smiled sadly at me. "The first step to honing your people skills is to listen. A good neighbor should know their own neighbors' names..."

I frowned at her, the lines between my brows creasing somewhat in frustration. "Does this have something to do with my raise?"

"Probably..." she hummed dubiously.

Frowning further, I sighed and asked grudgingly, "...Fine. What's his name?"

"If you were listening, ya would'a already known, Silly," She reached as if to pinch my nose, but I slapped her hand away with a warning look—the same no bullshit face the matron sometimes gave me—and she relented with a sigh, her accent fading once more, "That boy is Uchiha Sasuke. You are aware of what that means, are you not?"

Comprehension dawned on me with a flash of blood, falling bodies, monochrome with a red sky overhead, and I closed my eyes shut tightly to rid my head of the nightmare images that haunted my sleep. It took a good amount of effort to will it away, but when I did I opened my eyes to reveal the dull, lusterless green pools within and replied, "Yes... Yes, I know what that means." Only too well. I'd forgotten what he was supposed to look like.

"The two of you might be more similar than you think..." Hanako murmured thoughtfully, then, as if deciding something, her accent reverted and she said, "Here's the deal. You make friends with that boy and I'll give ya your raise. Yes?"

"What?!" I stared at her incredulously. "That's not fair, Hanako-sensei!"

"Life's not fair. That's the deal, so go deal with it. Get it done Yuka, I mean it." She crossed her arms over her chest firmly, "Now go home and get some sleep. Those dark circles under your eyes are starting to worry me."

I looked down at the floor and mumbled, "It's not your job to worry about me..."

"I know. Ya already said that," she agreed. "But who else is gonna do it?"

That night, I headed home with a heavy heart. This was not going to be easy. On one hand, I really, really wanted my raise...on the other... Well...there was another reason entirely that I had avoided contact with my elusive neighbor that had nothing to do with the fact that he was a giant raging dick. It was the same reason I avoided Naruto, and relatively anyone else who made an appearance in my nightmares, actually. I didn't know why I had them, but they started as soon as I met the crazy blond idiot.

I probably had a mental breakdown somewhere along the way, but back then they were just dreams. Scary, horrible, awful dreams, but dreams, nonetheless. But then came the year of my eighth birthday. That was the year I decided to join the academy with Naruto who'd recently gotten thrown out on his ass for rigging the matron's office up with explosive paint bombs. I sort of had a grudging respect for him after that. And maybe that's why I followed his example. That was also the year that I first met Sasuke. That was also the year of the famous Uchiha Massacre...exactly as I had seen in my dreams.

I dropped out of the academy the day after. I wanted nothing to do with any of it anymore. My dream had come true. What the hell was I supposed to make of that? Some poor kid's family got massacred right in front of him, and I had known about it. The thought of 'what if?' boggled me every time I had another nightmare. I contemplated going to the Hokage after I saw him die—some crazy fucking snake guy with a gross tongue did him in—but I knew exactly what would happen to me if I did something like that. And exactly what reason did I have to warn him, anyway? My parents were dead, and it was all because they came here. To Konoha. Lets just say customs is a little...overkill. But it's not like Kusa—or anyplace else at all, really—was any different... The entire word was screwed up...

But then, if I believed that, what was I even doing? Wouldn't it just be easier to stay in one place if they were all screwed up anyway? The answer to that was no. That was what I firmly believed. Konoha may have been nice to look at from an outsider's point of view, a nice concept, but I knew the truth. It was rotten at its very roots...

And it was with these heavy thoughts in mind that I found myself staring a hole into one Uchiha Sasuke's apartment door in indecision. I didn't want to get involved. That was my policy when dealing with these things. With Naruto, it had been different. At the orphanage, we'd pretty much been forced together by our general awkwardness around other people. And, since I grudgingly respected his audacity, I followed him. But then the massacre happened and I realized everything in my dreams was true. I tried to deny it. I tried to push it away, and collapse it into a little drawer into the back of my head. Most of the time I even forgot it was there. But the truth was, if I continued to follow him, it was no doubt I'd probably end up dead, or worse. And Sasuke...well he was probably all under the category of 'worse.'

I did not want to be involved with him. Period. But the one thing I wanted more than anything else in the world was to get out of this village. The only way I could do that was by making enough money to set up living arrangements elsewhere. Preferably, very, very far away in a far corner of the world where no ninja could ever find me. Maybe a deep dark cave, if worse came to worse...

I needed my raise. I needed to avoid people in my nightmares. What the hell was I supposed to do?

"What are you doing?"

I jumped as I was brutally surfaced from my turbulent thoughts and rounded to find the dilemma himself staring me surlily in the face. But in my surprise, I could only respond by unintelligently turning the question around on him. "What are you doing?"

"...Trying to get to my apartment," he answered, shooting me an odd look. "You're in the way. Move."

"Well," I spoke with more poise. "This is ironic. Since you're usually the one who's getting in my way..."

"I don't have any taste for irony."

"Or sweet things." I remembered, crossing my arms and fixing him with a stern look. "What'd you end up doing with that anpan I gave you anyway? I bet you just threw it in the trash. That's wasteful, you know."

"You're annoying," he grumbled. But as my stink eye intensified, he sighed. "I gave it to someone else."

"Yeah right, like I'll believe that crap," I shot back. "What'd you eat then?"

"Nothing." He narrowed his eyes defensively. "No time. Training."

It was at that point that a questionable stench rose to my nostrils and I had to acquiesce, "Can't argue with that. You stink."

"You're covered in pastry gunk," he countered.

He was right. I think I even had dough stuck in my hair. I needed to do something about that sooner rather than later. And for some reason, I couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious. I edged around him carefully—the lesson of never turn your back on your enemy being one that stuck from my academy days—and felt out the handle to my apartment door, shouting defensively, "At least I still smell nice!" before slipping inside and slamming the door on him. See if I'd let him get the last word...

What a dick.

My stomach growled and I remembered that I hadn't eaten anything all day. And with that, I just started cooking. I probably made more than I should've too... Whenever I was hungry, I always felt like I wanted to eat a cow. Probably because I always waited too long between meals. In any case, it gave me a bit of an impaired judgement whenever I was gauging portion sizes... I shook my head at the ridiculous amount of food left over, just asking myself why. I supposed I could always eat it anyway, because I was somewhat of a bottomless pit when it came to food, even when I was full, but it seemed wasteful...

Then I stopped and listened to the silence coming from next door. I never heard the hum from his stove. Ever. Knowing his situation, he probably never even learned how to use one... I mean, yay for microwavables and stuff but that's just...a little bit sad actually. The only reason I knew how to cook is because I hid out in the kitchens at the orphanage to try and get away from Naruto. And for some reason...I also had dreams about cooking. Don't ask me why. But in any case, it's usually something your parents teach you... I frowned. My parents had never taught me.

With that, before I could talk myself out of toying with something really dangerous, I packed up the extras, stuck a sticky note to the top of it, 'The truth is I don't like sweet things either,' deposited them outside his door, gave a jerky knock, then quickly disappeared back inside, listening carefully. I heard his door open...a long silence...and then I heard it close. Carefully, I opened my own door a crack and peaked out into the hall. The containers were nowhere to be found. Unconsciously, I felt a smile curl at my lips and I thought vaguely to myself, Maybe this raise thing won't be so hard after all...