DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. I do not own Naruto or the materials associated with the manga/anime franchise. What I do own is this story in part or whole, the plot and set-up of the plot, and original characters that came with it.

The River Between Two Oceans

1-6

It goes without saying:

I hadn't slept a wink last night.

None.

At.

All.

I wonder if I'd even blinked!?

I was so inundated by the constant swirls of what-if's and what-would-be's that I kept sleep itself away. I couldn't wait to see the world, not mainly because I don't remember much of it, but rather whether I would remember it anyway. I'm beginning to feel afraid that I wouldn't, fearing that would force seclusion between my grandparents and I or even the people outside our borders.

What would become of me then?

Even as I pretended to be asleep and kept my eyes shut, I just couldn't switch my mind off. It just kept going on and on till the crack of dawn, by which time the exhaustion of keeping my eyes open for hours on end had finally lulled me into sleep.

Some good brief moment of sleep finally coaxed me, but then—

Grandpa woke me up.

Too bad, right?

Thinking a shower would help, he prepared a bath for me, but I nearly drowned as I stayed in the tub, asleep. Then I almost choked the soup I had for breakfast, even slurped in the raw egg I had through my nose. I could tell Grandma was tempted to smack me awake, but just now, Grandpa gives me this cup of bitter, dark liquid that smelt like the skies of tropical heavens on ecstasy (whatever that means!).

The second I downed it, I couldn't keep up with my own heartbeat.

I'm upbeat, excitable and restless as if I had so many things to do in so short a time that I had to keep moving (like I haven't already!). Every move and step was leading me somewhere, to a place that was well-intended for me and I just wanted to get over it.

"Is it really okay to give her that much coffee at this young an age?" I heard Grandma mumble that one—that wasn't imaginary.

Grandpa just shrugs. "Oh, don't you worry! It'll be gone by the end of the day. She needs caffeine in order to function at least long enough for us to reach Taniyama."

"You're a brute, you know that? I sure hope she doesn't inherit that part of you!"

So.

Caffeine is the name of this sucker, huh?

Strange.

It sure felt like this isn't the first time I've had the pleasure (or rather displeasure) of consuming this unknown fragrant liquid that comes from the beans of a tree, roasted in mild heat and crushed to grounds that when blended with clear water, turns it into deep coal black oozing with chocolate bubbles curdling—

whawazzat?

Although I do admit, I'm mostly in a confusing daze that's both conscious and unconscious. I could hear things, though I don't respond to them just as well. I could move my body, but I don't react just as quickly.

This caffeine thingy…

Is it like a ninja power-up thing?

"What did you just give me, oji-chan?" I let out a whimper as I slump my head into a bowl of rice.

"Serves you right for not sleeping the night!"

I could tell Grandma's shaking her head.

"Now, finish your breakfast! We're not staying for a moment longer."

I manage a nod.

Or maybe that's just gravity doing its wretched work of pulling down my already drooping head.

After helping out Grandma with the dishes, I find Grandpa stretching his limbs outside the house. He looks fit and ready for a marathon, despite his age. He had bandages wrapped around his arms and calves, tightening them as I'm walking out to him, and there's now a jacket worn over his faded shirt and he's even wearing his best shoe (ones that looked like the sandals those ninjas were wearing).

In fact, what he's wearing looked a lot like what ninjas would wear—minus the flak vests, maybe.

"You look prim and proper, oji-chan," I fidget as I think on my words. "Is that your ninja gear?"

He starts when he hears the word.

As did I.

Maybe he's just being careful so that if something like yesterday happened, he'll be ready to face it.

Instead of looking at me, he looks away towards the river, "The path to the wagon passage is down that way. So we better get going now."

I've upset him.

I thought I could use this chance to talk about Aosagi again, but he's still refusing to talk about anything with me.

"Look, we'll save more time if we," he pauses as I look up, "talk as we walk."

I beam at him.

I could work with that!

We're strolling out of our garden and towards the river, then alongside its rolling deep banks of moss-covered rocks and knee-high grass. We're passed by the very trees that Grandpa has replanted after he's hacked them down on the other side of the road. If these hadn't already been felled, we wouldn't have stumbled into that group of ninjas yesterday. Still, that was some shot of sheer good luck—at least I now know that Aosagi wasn't an imaginary friend that I've made up.

At least I know that it was telling the truth in some parts.

So it's up to me to get the rest of those parts to make the truth whole!

I glance at Grandpa.

He's looking at me, too.

"So…" I begin.

"You think I'm not being fair, I guess…" he joins me.

I pout at that. "How do you mean, oji-chan?"

"Hey, let's not hold pretenses against each other. You want to join the war, don't you?"

I look down for a second.

With the sound of the running water gushing through the riverbed, my mind is soothed into a peaceful and dreamy pause. This comfort convinces my mind to a surety of my thoughts, although they may be scarce and shifty.

I nod. "I'm sure as you won't do those kinds of things for fun, then I won't either."

Grandpa is silent.

We've stopped walking.

Still walking on our piece of land, right at its very edge, we listen in to the sounds that greet us—the birds singing and cawing, the squirrels squeaking, the water gurgling and the wind whistling between the green leaves and branches. The foliage themselves are much larger and denser here.

"I'm just being thorough and careful," Grandpa begins to explain slowly and if I'm not mistaken, awkwardly too as if this wasn't something easy to get off his chest. I wait as he continues, "Of course, joining the war isn't easy! I know it's serious, but it's never predictable and I'm so far used to being considerate that I refuse to take even the smallest, least dangerous risk without recalculating it over and over."

I smile wider at that.

His kindness isn't stopped by being worried about me.

"I'm overly concerned about your joining the war because death is a prospect that will always have me reconsidering things. I wouldn't have joined the First Shinobi World War myself if it hadn't been for your grandmother."

I look at him now.

His eyes are determined.

"I wanted a future with your grandmother and that future is forever made possible only because I was a ninja. I could defend myself and that was then the only way I could get back to my wife… That's all I had in mind. The world was set against us. But it shouldn't ever change us."

He breaks for a moment to sigh before walking off.

Perhaps we're nearing that passageway he's talking about because his steps are slower and I could actually match his pace despite my size and age.

I don't believe what he said was an excuse meant for me.

"You don't think I could do the same?" I cried out in disbelief, "Not changing even if the world is against me?"

"We're always against the world, kiddo. Not everyone, however, could stay the same in its hold."

"You don't think I, who is your favourite grandchild, could do what you've done?"

Grandpa laughs.

I miss his laughter, so I laugh too.

"Well," he snorts as he rubs his nose after a draft of pollen descended upon us, "It's not that I don't trust you. I just don't trust the world around you!"

"I suppose that's fair!"

"Look, I know you have good intentions, kiddo. But I've seen how good intentions could be corrupted by blood and violence. Power, in the way of acting towards war, can often be mistaken as kindness and generosity when in fact, it is a facade meant to bully not only the wielder but those wielded against it."

I can tell where he's coming from.

But after what I've seen yesterday and how Grandpa defended us, surely, there's something pure left to be kept in being a ninja.

Like defending the vulnerable.

Or protecting the people we love.

After all, a knife is just sharpened steel until you actually use it for something. Or on someone.

"I'm just being practical, oji-chan. With us being in rural areas, what's to say we're not going to have to defend ourselves against intruders? It's not about picking a side, but when we've been overrunned, we're overrunned!"

He doesn't retort.

"I mean," I pause for a second, just picturing the look Grandma's face when he had to leave her and I couldn't bear to think that I would have to part from them so soon. "If I had known just a little bit about how to fight off ninjas, I could well be safe enough till this war dwindles."

"Do you actually want to be a ninja?"

I stop walking.

I stare down at my tiny little hands with fingers that were as stubby as they were short.

I couldn't imagine being able to do anything with these hands that were bloody or violent or brute, but if that meant saving some group of people…

How far would I have gone?

Grandpa crouches down before me and pats on my head.

"A ninja isn't just someone who knows about the shinobi way or ninjutsu—they know what to use when to use it and how to use it where it inflicts the most disadvantage to their opponents, whoever they may be."

I look into his eyes.

His gaze is distant and hurt.

"One day, a day which I hope you won't live to see, you'll find that the opponent may even be someone you know, someone you've learned to love and appreciate."

As his eyes find mine, the darkness creeps into them like shadows dancing behind a campfire.

Was he betrayed by someone he knows?

And that he's had to kill them?

"Are you ready for all of that?" The abrupt question is pointed to me.

I shake my head. Quickly.

I can't even begin to imagine what that's like.

To be pitted against someone you know or love, that's just—

"I guess there's no right answer," I respond slowly, "but for now I don't know if I'm ready for that."

He's quiet for a while.

I think back on his words and experience, and now I feel like the world's greatest idiot. No wonder he's been avoiding this topic for so long! Even if he's been betrayed because of circumstances, I couldn't fathom how Grandpa could do it.

Just think…

If Grandpa or Grandma was forced to kill me and I had to choose between myself or them, I wouldn't think I could make a choice. And knowing them, they would even jump in danger for me to make my decision the slightest bit easier, but even then I don't want to be left alive to live with that.

At least, not all by myself.

"How about this, then?"

I look up to Grandpa now.

"I promise I'll let you be a ninja once you're sure of your answer."

I perk up a grin. "I don't think I see anything wrong with that!"

"Good," he stands up straight and points forward where a hedge with a gaping hole in the middle is situated. "The road's just beyond this shrub. Now, be careful, all right? Look left and right, please? I need you to promise that first."

I nod. "Of course I'm gonna be cautious!"

He takes my hand and we walk through the hedge like it was some kind of portal.

True enough, these big trees are lined next to each other along an open road, not made out of gravel, but softened soil – like hiking trails of old, traces of history upon history of people and their connection – that had been frequently driven on. The road towards the left leads up to more hills, on the opposite land facing the mountains and our home, and the one towards the right goes downwards, where more emerald oceans lie in wait.

Grandpa points out to it. "Taniyama is half a day's walk down that way. But hopefully, we could catch a wagon on our way there—it'd save us some time!"

"By how much?"

"It'll take two hours tops. But then again, that would depend on our ride."

I nod. "So what sort of wagon would pass through here?"

"Oh, you know… Farmland* stuff. Some wagons with fruits and vegetables back and forth to Taniyama. Some carry hay and wheat."

A clamorous, rattling sound startled us.

It sounded like wood hitting stone.

We turn around and find a donkey with a cart behind coming right at us and its was rider wearing a straw hat. He's worn it so low over his face that he looked like he didn't even have one. Perhaps he was asleep.

"Oh, my luck! There's a wagon right there!" Grandpa is in awe and raises his hands, waving intensely. "Yakuma, it's been a while!"

The rider finally raises his head at the fifth call.

He squints. "Jun? Is that really you?"

"Who is he, oji-chan?" I ask.

"He's our hay supplier," Grandpa smiles while he waits, resting his hands on his hip. "A bit of an enigma, don't you think? That he should use donkeys or horses for his shipment considering…"

Those animals eat hay?

I snickered. "A little counterproductive, yes."

"That's Yakuma for you!"

Up close, the wagon is emptied of its cargo and what was left behind was just a few stray hays, barley and wheat—some of which the old man, Yakuma, has even fed to his donkey. Wow.

Grandpa shakes hands with him.

He was an older and shorter man with darker tanned skin – almost cinnamon in colour – and his eyes were pitch black as the night. He's so skinny his flesh attached itself to his bone desperately, almost painful to look at. He also must've had eye problems because he's still squinting at us this close (cataracts by the looks of it; it gives his eyes a strange grey glint from the side). His grey eyebrows were as thick as his moustache, which has overgrown into his beard. The man had no hair left on the top of his head so he was bald from forehead backward—there were some left on the sides, though.

"Fancy seeing you here!" he laughs strangely—his lower lip is covering his lower teeth.

I bite my lower lip trying to stifle a giggle.

Grandpa nods sheepishly. "Yup, it's a nice day out!"

"Any way I can help?"

"Well, d'you mind givin' us a lift into Taniyama? Or are you just headin' back from selling hay?"

"Nope, I was heading home, but the wife's got somethin' else she wanted me to buy so… I'm headed to Taniyama back, too!"

"I see…"

"Why don't you hop on?"

"You don't mind?"

"Of course, not!"

Grandpa bows vigorously. "Thank you so much!"

I bow too.

When I look up, I glance at the old man who happens to catch me staring at him.

"Hey, is that Momo-chan with you?"

"Oh, yeah…" Grandpa pulls my hand up. "Moko, say 'hi'."

I wave at the man. "Um, hello."

"What's with that meek hello?" Yakuma frowns at me. "I haven't seen her in a while and she's hidden up her usual wild self?"

Grandpa sighs; he helps me up onto the back of the wagon and continues to respond to the man, "Ya haven't heard?"

Yakuma whips his donkey forward.

We begin moving away in a rackety manner.

But it feels totally fun!

Grandpa opens his mouth to repeat his question, but then—

"Oh, I did hear about her falling into the river recently. But… Momo-chan's always like that, right? A rowdy prankster!"

I wonder what the old man meant by that…

Me? A prankster?

"Well," Grandpa ruffles up my hair as he speaks, "she didn't recover well from that last one."

Yakuma falls quiet. "You mean, it's been over a week and she's not—"

"Yup, it's why we're headed to Taniyama! Hopefully to get some herbal mixture that could help her out."

"Eh, hopefully, the doctor's still got some potions left… Since, you know, the war's started."

We all fall silent at that.

"A-Anyway—" Yakuma's abashed now. "Will she be alright, though?"

"We all pray for the best, of course. At this point, she may or may not remember some things, but otherwise, she's fine."

"Oh, I see!"

I startled when the rider flaps the end of a barley shoot in my face.

He smiles ear to ear, but at this distance, I could see that his teeth aren't a full set (especially his molars). "I wonder if you'll ever forget about me?"

I hold back a laugh.

Grandpa's pinching my thigh.

I shake my head, biting on my lower lip till I could almost tear the flesh in.

"Don't laugh at him," Grandpa, half grinning himself, suddenly whispers to me.

Doesn't that go without saying?

The rest of the journey goes on rather stale, though.

Other than the occasional talks about me and my injury, the talks on the war effort are basically old news. Old Man Yakuma admits he hadn't asked for news about it because he and his wife are to remain here—they don't have children and the land, with all its produce, are the only legacy they have created and will continue to keep. So they will remain with it, even if the war should take it from them. Even if forcefully.

As for the surroundings…

Well, we went spiralling down a rocky cliff face for nearly half an hour before the land was flat once more. We must've been over hundreds of metres above sea level at that point because I could feel my ears pop! Grandpa said it's over two hundred, but it sure feels like it's way more! That whole journey downwards makes me giddy with nausea, so I was really glad to find the horizon straight before long.

After that, the forest became sparse with openings and roads branching through it like veins. There're wagons passing by us in this area; some said hello and spoke a word or two, others bearing the grim face of their struggle. We couldn't complain though—I reckon we looked just like that.

Eventually, the caffeine stops working.

Now it's harder to keep myself awake with the wagon going wonky.

It feels like getting back into a baby's cot.

"Keep your eyes open, kiddo," I hear Grandpa mumble.

"I'm not asleep."

"We'll be arriving soon."

My eyes whip open. "Really?"

"Not for another five miles, Moko-chan," Old Man Yakuma laughs with his bad teeth showing, again.

I pout and just watch as the scenery changes, bit by bit.

The trees and foliage have truly lessened here. The land itself becomes plain over plains of short grass, where trees grow in seclusion from one another and in loneliness. Over one plain, there are rice paddies with farmers knee-deep in its trenches. Over the other, watermelons and pumpkin patches grow. People here are louder and much friendlier—they wave at each passing wagon, us included.

Eventually, the road begins to be filled with wooden posts.

The first one we see has no one there.

The next one has a man taking a nap.

Then the ones after that, the posts are actually shops with four stone walls and another floor on top. Even the sound begins to change, too. People are yelling orders of purchases, chiding children from running too fast, kids screaming in each other's faces—all the hubbub that makes a small town.

It starts to smell different too.

Before it was just grass and mud (and some dung!), but now it smells like delicacies—beef burning on the pan, butter boiling, cakes rising, sushi cutting and all that jazz.

I keep my eyes open.

I try to see if I know anyone.

Or anything here.

I catch the glance of one boy with dark hair, brown eyes and tanned skin.

"Hey, isn't that—"

The one next to him is paler and had brown hair and piercing green eyes. "That's Moko-chan, isn't it?!"

"What? I thought she fell into the river and had amnesia?"

"Is she back to normal now?"

Before I know it, everyone is looking at me.

Whoa.

How come everyone seems to know me?

I don't even know me.

"Jun-oji-sama!" a louder voice pierced through that of the crowd that's now gathered around us in a circle. "Are you here to trade some meat with your fruit and vegetable stocks?"

I turn around to find a boy with light azure hair with deep grey eyes.

This is—

Grandpa quickly catches on as he grabs onto me and takes me down the wagon.

"That's Kotarou…" he pats me on the shoulder as if he's trying to tempt my memory. "Your best friend."

But I don't know him.

Kotarou doesn't look intimidating or much older than me as he stands about a few inches taller.

His hair is long, spiky with some of the fringe poking into his eyes and the rest tied to a ponytail at the base of his neck. He wears a sleeveless yukata over a pair of shorts and those ninja-like sandals.

He joins our side to keep talking, "We're cleaning up the house and clearing the farm before moving out. So we've just slain our last cow and though—" and then he glances at me, "Moko?"

Crap.

What do I do?

What would Momoko do in this situation?

"Hey, you're back! Are you here to play ninja again?"

I guess that answered my question.

Play ninja?

What the heck is that?

We already have ninjas going about and killing people and us kids have to pretend as one? Do we pretend we kill each other too? What?

Kotarou proceeds to grab my hands. "I'll gather round the boys and girls so we'll have fun while your granddad meets up with my parents!"

My head is spinning.

Or is it?

"Sorry, I—" I knead my temple now.

Kotarou suddenly remembers something that makes him freeze where he stands.

The two boys from earlier come to join him.

"Are we playing ninja now that Moko's here?"

"Yeah, Moko's back, everyone!"

Grandpa, who's been silent for some reason, finally speaks. "Sorry, kids. She's not recovered yet."

They look at me with a serious face.

As if death itself dawns upon their skin.

"Look, kids, let's not scare Moko with your faces like that, alright?" Grandpa waves his hands down as if that could simmer the tension in their blood.

I wonder why he wasn't speaking much sooner—was he hoping that I would just suddenly remember?

Like the memories would descend into my mind like lightning?

Or flood my memory banks with so much water I would drown myself (mentally, that is)?

"Now, I brought her out to you guys so you could help her out. It's not definite that she'll never remember, so while you can and if you're free, you can help her jog her memories."

"But how can we do that, Jun-oji-sama?" Kotarou asks.

"You just show her and tell her what she used to do. If you can get her to do what she used to do, maybe it'll help her remember who she was."

Everyone murmurs with each other.

I don't like this.

If I went and hung out with everyone, it's a little—

"Then I'll take her," Kotarou speaks up again. "Alone. If everyone comes with us, it'll be frightening!"

Saved by the bell.

Or rather, by a son of great light…

Is that Jesus?

Wait. Who's that again?

"That's thoughtful of you, Kota-kun."

"Well, Moko is my best friend, so of course I'll help her out!" He whips up a smile as he folds his arms behind the back of his head; he quickly turns to the group of kids that has surrounded us. "Everyone, you can start without us."

"Eh? Moko isn't joining us?"

"If Kota or Moko isn't playing, we shouldn't play at all!"

"That's right. We'll lose badly!"

Kotarou nods to them. "Then I guess you guys will have to wait!"

Grandpa looks back at me.

"Oji-chan, I—"

"It's okay," he pats my head again, "It's not your fault. I was just trying to see if I could force out—I'm sorry."

"Where will you be going?"

"I'll have to go and see Dr Kyohei first before I visit the Atsudas. It'll be a long talk, so you can browse the town while I'm fast at it."

"Will it be okay?"

"Don't worry about it. Kotarou will show you around. He'll take you to his home and we'll meet up there, alright?"

"I'm—"

Worried.

And scared.

Grandpa crouches down to my level once more. "Look," he points out to the boys and girls, "Your friends… They're all worried about you and they miss playing ninja with you. Now, I know we can't force you to remember, but… you have a lot to look forward to once you do. So is everyone else, you hear?"

I nod.

"Or perhaps you're surprised by the overwhelming number of people who seem to know you here but yet you don't know them?"

My eyes widen.

He laughs.

"Yup, you're a popular kid, alright! Everyone knows you because you're always bothering them. You'll jump up to their fences and disturb the peace."

That sounds like me, to be honest.

I remember something like that vaguely.

I steal cookies too.

Or rather, I may have coaxed many people with my plum cheeks.

"But I wouldn't say you're much of a prankster," Grandpa whispers this to me, "but you're definitely not acting like a girl enough to be considering… eh, what's the word your Grandma uses?"

Wait.

This sounds familiar.

This word.

"Ah, yes," Grandpa snaps his fingers.

I smile back.

We both cry out, "Graceful!" at the same time.

I blurt into a burst of loud laughter.

So did Grandpa.

"Look, Moko-chan. Have as much fun as you can, okay?"

I nod. "I'll try, oji-chan."

"Don't worry, Jun-oji-sama," Kotarou intervenes; it seems the crowd has dispersed with his help and now there's only Yakuma (who's waiting on Grandpa), me and Grandpa here. "I'll be sure to keep her safe!"

"I know, Kota-kun. I know…"

There's a strange flicker of sombreness in his eyes.

Then he stands straight and waves himself off.

I wave back.

"Right," Kotarou blushes as he rubs his nose. "Anywhere you'd like to go first?"

My eyes are still watching Grandpa leaving on the back of Old Man Yakuma's wagon.

As I turn to the boy beside me, a wave of seething anger arises from deep within.

"Look, I don't—"

Hold on, Moko!

He's a stranger to me now… but he knows me.

I shouldn't be too hard on him. It's not right. Definitely not nice either!

"Look, Kotarou…"

"It's just Kota."

I glance at him.

"You'd only ever call me Kota."

I squirm where I stand. "Well, Kota… Take me where I used to go—that'll be a good start."

"Used to go, huh?" he rubs his chin now. "You usually spend time in the market and chase us down… There's a park you'd hung out in, too but…"

"But what?"

"How about we take a good tour around the whole town?"

"S-Sure," I nod.

"The town may be a stranger to you now… so it's best to treat yourself like that until you remember."

I wonder what he's planning on doing...

Or maybe he's just trying to make this as pleasant an experience for me as possible.

"Okay, Kota. Anything you say," I smile at him. Sincerely.

He grins back.

He's not half-bad.

Kota doesn't even try anything at all after that.

He really goes off to show the town to me like I was a tourist: where the town begins and where it ends, who to stay away from and who to cajole or who owns that sushi shop or that yakiniku place, where's the best teppanyaki and ramen (because these were my favourite, apparently) place in town and where's the cheapest shop for groceries or tailoring or where's the new places in town and who's running them or if they're closing, why and where.

I hardly have to object and ask questions because Kota planned it very well.

The town itself is only about hundreds of acres big and one would have spent a quarter of a day just walking within its borders. But it is a dense town with households scrapping at every piece of land they could get to transform into a bustling mini-city.

Kota also made sure that we eventually ended up where we started at each and every round—in case I'd have any queries recoiling back at me as I re-explore each area of interest.

For example, when he first showed me the town's entrance and we walked along its large high street lined with shops and residences, he explained Taniyama's history all the way to its town limits. When we headed back in, he pointed out the identity of each building and the story behind it. He makes a great storyteller too because I was so engrossed I could imagine the town in its past life—I'm pretty sure we must've walked in circles over and over again, but I didn't even realise it.

By the time we finish our twelfth stroll through town, I stop walking.

Suddenly, tonnes and tonnes of people have thronged the market square.

"Right," he points out to them as they push out carts and wagons from the inside of their shophouses before decorating it with lanterns and flowers. "Every evening, Taniyama opens up its street into a festival—we likened it to a summer festival in the big cities except you know… every night!"

"Why do we have this in the first place?"

"To make sure that everybody knows everybody!"

I flinch at that.

It's a small town. Surely that—

"Besides, with the war, we need all the cheering up we can get."

I look up to him.

He looks tearful. Parting is such sweet sorrow, isn't it?

He'll miss this town soon enough, I guess.

But he's right. It's not like this is such a bad thing.

"Anyway, let's go and get to Old Man Komugi's shop before the line starts. He makes the best natto and dango in town!" He grabs my hand and pulls me along the stalls.

Eventually, we arrive in front of a stall that was just organised, but there's already a long queue! We're behind dozens of people already!

I take a peek from behind them and find an old man with a tattered beige yukata just busy flipping the skewers here and there over the barely visible fire—he's lost an arm so he works his way around with only his right.

To think that could've been Grandpa…

"How did he lose his arm?" I find myself asking.

"Well," Kota looks down as he explains, "You know you used to love hearing his tales of war and danger…"

I frown at him. "I forgot, remember?"

"Right, right!" He rubs his neck sheepishly. "Back in the First Shinobi World War, he resisted some ninjas who were trying to take his food stocks… and they wounded his arm so bad they had to amputate it."

I watch the man as he beams brightly at every patient customer, most of whom I realise are parents with children or simply children themselves.

"Has he always been making sweets with one hand?"

"It's his specialty now. I guess… we make what we lack our specialty when we can't change the circumstances anymore."

That hits home. Hard.

Come to think about it, how would I have coped if Grandpa had really lost an arm? It's not something you'd think about during peacetime, but when we bumped into the Iwa-nins yesterday, Grandpa and I might've been dead by now.

But since Kota started talking about it, then I—

"Say, Kota… Are you going to join the Academy in the main city?"

He startles to hear the question. "Wouldn't we all?"

"Well, oji-chan tells me to wait."

"Fer what exactly?"

"For the war to start."

"It's already started!"

"He wants my exposure to the dangers be delayed as much as possible."

He's silenced by that.

Then, for a young child, he exhales a long sigh like an adult. "I know why he's doing it! You think I'd want my sister to be exposed?"

Right.

I forgot he had a sister.

Dr Kyohei did mention two Atsuda names…

What was it?

"I'm sorry if I sound a little harsh, Kota," I fidget the hem of my shirt. "How is Emiko, by the way?"

His eyes widened at me.

I quickly wave my hands down. "N-no, I haven't completely recovered—I just remember hearing her name!"

He laughs out loud suddenly.

If there's a definition for 'guffaw', it's what he's doing now.

Loud, boisterous, shameless and unfiltered.

What's so funny about what I said?

"Sorry, sorry," he waves at me too. "It's just that… even if you don't remember, somehow… You're unconsciously being exactly who I know you to be!"

I didn't quite understand that.

"You didn't want to appear like a rude person, so that's why you remember her name, right?"

I nod.

How's that weird?

"That's just like you, you see! I just find it funny that you don't remember stuff or even who you are, but even then you're still you!" he just keeps on snickering.

I bite my lip.

I may not know him that well now, but I proceed to give him a good punch on the elbow. "That's not funny! Imagine if we had been to war and run around like ninjas—I wouldn't be able to defend myself if I keep forgetting!"

"That's a legit concern, no doubt!"

"And I still don't remember your sister…"

He doesn't speak.

He must've thought that I probably don't remember him at all, too.

"Trust me, I want to!" I try to convince myself that this worrisome feeling goes both ways, especially by the way his eyes are narrowing. "I want to remember so that I can—I want to be normal again. I don't care what normal is! Whether it's chasing others around like ninjas or disturbing everyone I know and see! I just want to know who I am so I can get going!"

Kota's eyes are still narrowed.

He sighs again. "No, you're right. You need to get going! The war's catching up on our asses and we've no time to lounge about"

I slump my head down, nodding.

"And it's not your fault. You're asking me about going to the Academy because you're scared of going alone…"

"Yeah, that's actually true…"

"Well, guess what?"

I shrug my shoulders.

"I'm scared too," his laughter was in derision at himself this time, "You know I'm not—just because I'm a boy? I'm scared I'm not good enough… because the main reason why I'm going to the Academy is…"

He pauses. I wait.

"I need to be able to keep my little sister safe."

That makes sense.

"You… promised that, too!"

"I did?"

"Yeah," he takes my hands and looks deep into my eyes. "We promise to stick together. We promise we'd make it out alive together. We promise that no matter what the situation, no matter how we'll end up, we'll always be best friends!"

That's a little—

"But hey, I know… It's impossible!" he drops my hands like they were too heavy to carry.

I cringe. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's a child's prayer, Moko. No way we could stick together like that. I can't even be sure of me being capable of taking care of both you and Emiko. Who am I kidding? Nations are at war and they can't even keep themselves in line!"

I look down to the ground, silently pondering on his words.

He's right again.

I can't even be sure of keeping myself intact.

What about Grandpa and Grandma? They might seperate us children from our grownups, to keep us in check and hostage.

"Anyway," Kota sighs for probably the umpteenth time. "We do what we can when we can, I guess."

Before I could speak, however, he turns to me.

His eyes enlarged.

"No way!" he yells in my face.

I follow his gaze and turn around to find a large caravan of people arriving into town; some of its members were walking on foot and hauling their tall, black stallions to a stop while most of them were on horseback or resting on the edge of their wagon. They look impressive, especially considering their wagons were nearly as large as a shop! They must be keeping stocks and people in there.

Everybody is watching them in surprise and wonder.

"How come they're back here already?" Kota cries out in excitement.

Oh. Does he know them?

"Who are they?" I queried.

"They're just a bunch of travelling magicians from abroad."

Magicians?

We live with ninjas in the middle of their war now and we're having magicians?

Am I dreaming right now?

"They came here weeks ago, but you missed them because your Grandpa left quickly that time. Anyway, they're supposed to be heading back to their country, so I wonder why—"

"Kota-kun," a stranger speaks; he's non-descript looking, tan skin with black hair. He's someone from the queue before us and heard the last leg of our conversation as he says, "They blocked the ships from leaving in the East, fearing Kumogakure's intervention. Maybe that's why they're back here… The War's forced them back!"

"I see!"

"What kind of magicians are they?" my question comes out in a bored tone—but I am curious.

"Illusionists and sleight of hands… They sell good herbs and weird hand-made souvenirs too! Oh, but you should come see the fortune teller, Madam Taiyoo! Maybe she'll help you remember stuffs, too!"

"Hah? How could she—"

It's too late.

Kota takes my hand and tugs me along to see the caravan.

Such a shame! I was looking forward to that dango!

"Calm down, Kota or you'll rip my arm off!"

I have to admit.

The thrill and glee are super infectious!

For some reason, I started to feel pretty damn intrigued to know what this Madam Taiyoo could say about me! Not because I'd believe in her immediately, but maybe some superstition is what I need to get my perspective restructured. Maybe she'll say some stupid stuff that I shouldn't let get to me, but maybe she'll say something rather logical.

As Kota and I stand there, watching as the caravan begins to unravel their shop-on-wheels, my heart begins to skip a few beats.

I have a bad feeling about this…

Author's Notes: It seems like this place is reserved solely for my sorries and apologies! But seriously though, I know I said I'd update this last week and I'm feeling real bad about not being able to catch my own deadline. I know, I'm the worst! Anyways, hope you enjoy this!

*Farmland = Sakumotsu in Japanese; this is the name from which Kakashi's father's name is derived from ("Sakumo"). Hint to Moko being an Ueno (meaning 'upper field', if you remember).

**Kotarou means 'son of great light' so there's your Jesus reference. lolz

PS: This was supposed to be a whole chunk of Moko going into town and actually meeting the fortune teller, but I went overboard and spent over 6k of words on the town part alone so I'm cutting the story to this point and continue the fortune teller scene in the next chapter. TT_TT (This is so far my longest chapter to upload)!