Finally. It was over.

Except, the tension that was enshrouding Iwagakure hardly suggested any such thing. If no one else felt it, Zakeiru Kizen felt it very acutely, like an angry clench on his mind, a grip that had wrought his mental processes sore. Maybe it showed, if only for the fact that of all the tables that he was seated at, it was the one in the corner, with his back against the wall. His scarlet eyes were dark, scrutinizing the bar heedlessly. They were calm, but there was a storm behind them, on the brink of eruption, and yet also teetering on the possibility of drawing back into peace. He was leaning back, his long hair draped over the back of the chair, and his arms were folded across his chest. All in black, but casually, his natural features still stood out..

To his right, further away from the corner - the wall ran behind Kizen and along his left - was the gentle-faced, light-haired Kazuya, who was contrastingly more open, if dressed in drab colours as well. Under the gloom, he was a neutral aura. His forearms braced the weight of his shoulders over the table while he pushed the sugar holder over a small distance across the table. He seemed far from unnerved by the intimidating and very forbidding presence of the Tsuchikage next to him. His iridescent eyes looked at the two chairs across from them, then up around the small building before glancing toward the door, expecting company and willing to greet with a stand, a small, casual but brief smile, and a gesture to sit...

How many months had it been since he last saw the sun...? Inochi couldn't remember the last time he had smelled fresh air, the last time he had seen the light of day...

It was probably for that reason that he wore so many layers today. He couldn't remember last time he had been... outside. He didn't like being outside... he felt... exposed. So needless to say, Inochi had covered himself up. Though that was a bit of an understatement, considering the temperature outside. A long-sleeved undershirt, a long kimono-esque robe, long pants, a long hooded jacket... Inochi was covered head to foot, with only his face and hands exposed to the world. And even with that much clothing on, his sickly pallor was noticeable, especially with his pampas grass hair hanging in a thin, weak veil around his fast. The life once held in those emerald eyes were close to fading. Anyone who knew him as he was before this hellish ordeal would hardly recognize him as he was now, a weak shadow of who he used to be.

For the entire trip to Iwa, Inochi stuck close to Natsuki, trailing behind in his cousin's shadow, holding on tight to Natsu's sleeve as if afraid that he would disappear. He spoke not a word the entire way, his head hung as he walked, his eyes constantly darting back and forth, regarding passersby warily, his ears constantly straining for approaching footsteps, following right behind him. He trudged slowly along, an act done more out of habit than out of anxiety--his wounds had only recently healed over. His feet were still a bit tender, but at least the flesh had healed. Still, he couldn't bring himself to walk too fast just yet. Any attempts had phantom pains shooting through his legs when he tried.

He hesitated briefly as they came to the entrance of the bar, his grip tightening to the point that his knuckles turned ashen. This was the place where it had all started... it was hard to will himself to move. Fears, memories, all slowly drifting to the surface... but he forced them back down.

He had to move on... it was over now.

He waited for Natsuki to move first before he did, following his cousin every step of the way. It wasn't hard to locate the people they were there to meet... such a frightful presence was hard to miss. Still, Inochi lingered behind Natsuki, almost afraid to move out of turn. He wanted to sit down, wanted to get away from the exposure... but he couldn't will his feet to move. He needed Natsuki to move first... he couldn't bring himself to move on his own.

((Damn, this became kind of... uhhh... long... lol. Please don't mirror post.))

What Natsuki was unable to do for several months, Kizen was able to do in a day. That was, of course, get Inochi out of the house. He'd been her caretaker all this time after the brutal torture she'd endured. It tore him apart to see his sister like that... she was still visibly scarred from the incident, and not just physically. Anyone could tell from looking at her that she was a shadow of who she once was. Inochi's already fragile psyche had been shattered by what happened in Iwa.

It had hurt her brother as well. All of his attention was focused on Inochi, to the point that it affected other things. He was more likely to snap at someone who bothered him, and he wasn't as quick to laugh. He trained more in the martial styles rather than the more frivolous pursuits her preferred. Even now, he wasn't clothed in his normal red and gold. It was navy-blue and black for him. It was an incredibly formal, and even intimidating qipao, but it wasn't red and gold. He was also angry at Kizen - if it wasn't for him, Inochi wouldn't have been hurt. And despite his care for his sister, it had been him who had finally convinced her to go outside with a simple letter.

And now they were going back to where it started. Where Inochi had met Kizen, and been attacked after she left. Natsuki hated to take her back to this forsaken village, but it was what she wanted... and she couldn't go alone. She didn't want to, and he couldn't... wouldn't let her. Besides, it might help her to overcome her fears. That's what the doctors said, at least, and many of those psychology books. Still, Natsuki didn't want to see Kizen. He knew that he wasn't the one to attack her, but it was his fault all the same.

Still, he knew he had to be strong... for Inochi's sake. She was terrified, so he had to be strong and brave for both of them. As her brother, it was his duty to protect her. Then why weren't you there for her when she was attacked!?! He shook his head violently to shake the negative thoughts from his head and he strode in, Inochi trailing behind him.

Kizen wasn't hard to miss. He was with Kazuya as well... his trusty right-hand-man. Natsuki had nothing against him - you might even say he respected, or even liked the man. He didn't forget his actions in the hospital. However, in his current state of mind, there was no way for him to acknowledge it. He went straight for the table, and inclined his head slightly. "Kizen-sama. Kazuya-san." His attitude was completely different from before. He showed no fear of the Tsuchikage, and the sneer in the 'sama' was hardly subtle. He didn't wait to be invited to sit, and took his place at the table. Natsuki said nothing after this, and waited for Kizen to speak. He had nothing to say to the man.

The effect was not lost on either of the two Iwa-nin. Kazuya's smile faded to a total lack of cheer, almost tentatively or uncertainly, but the calming burn of his eyes was decidedly the opposite of 'pushover.' Still, he spared a kinder, wider smile for Inochi, and did not seat himself until Inochi had pulled up a chair first.

Kizen, however, seemed unprovoked up until Natsuki's address. at which, while his head did not move, his red gaze shifted sharply to the Kiri-nin. Even then, Kazuya needn't have spoken a word to encourage more formal and welcoming etiquette. In fact, he breathed deeply, though not overly visibly, as he unfolded his arms to settle them below the table along his thighs, only inclining his head in any sort of acknowledgement of his guests' presence. He looked a little more worn than before, but it hadn't been long ago that officials and citizens alike had been breathing down his neck about the incident that had involved these foreigners. His confidence seemed unwavering, however, despite his discontent.

"Thank you for making the journey here," he started evenly, his eyes softening to nothing less than neutrality leaning toward the slightest hint of nerves. Angry nerves that were under heavy restraint. He looked at Natsuki first, not quite threateningly, but discouraging any sort of disparaging remarks. Then he turned his attention to Inochi, less adamant in terms of fury; more patiently and less expectant. He did not bother trying not to meet the frail Ningyo's face. They hadn't seen each other even as the entire case had been wrapped up - for better or for worse.

The Tsuchikage didn't speak for a long moment, as his guarded features seemed to fail in their defense for a second as they melted into wary weariness. Then he bowed his head slightly enough to express some amount of sincerity. "I apologize that you had to be caught up in what happened here three months ago," he said, speaking directly to the physical victim in the matter. "Ningyo Inochi-san." To look at this towering man, the words coming out of his mouth then probably seemed unnatural, yet they were there. "I would have preferred bringing this meeting to you rather than asking you here, but either way presented grounds for conflict and coming to Iwagakure may help in recovering from your memories here. Iwa and Kirigakure are allies - I would rather not build a larger rift between our villages than already exists."

Instead of letting silence fall after those words, regardless of if Natsuki happened to response to Kizen, Kazuya took this chance to lean forward slightly against the table and say lightly, "I hope you have been well, Ningyo-kun." Despite all that had happened and his own constant presence around the hospital ward and the two clan members, he still seemed to insist on not using given names."And thank you," he peered at Natsuki, "For being such a dedicated friend. Your presence is a powerful support like no other." Unlike Kazuya's, when he was out of mind.

Inochi was still silent as he followed meekly behind Natsuki, not letting go of his sleeve once, not even as they sat down. He said no word as he was greeted either, nor did he say a word to reprise Natsuki for his rude behavior. Had this been any other time, before this whole mess had occurred, he would have chastised him, possibly smacking Natsu on the head with his fan. But now? He just nodded. It was an automatic response at this point. Proof that he was listening, proof that there was some semblence of consciousness behind those dead eyes. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

Kizen's apology, however, illicited a different response. It wasn't much different, simply changing the direction in which he moved his head, the side-to-side motion of dissent. Kizen didn't need to apologize... it wasn't his fault. At least... Inochi preferred to think that it wasn't. "It was a series of unfortunate events that could just as easily have happened to anyone else... the people behind it are either dead or incarcerated... it's over... that's all that matters..." His voice was as dead as his gaze, his words very mechanical, spoken as though repeatedly recited. He spoke as though trying to convince, as though trying to believe his own words. He had spent so much time telling himself these things over and over and over... but there was always some part of him that refused to believe it.

His gaze slowly flitted towards Kazuya as he spoke, forcibly reminding himself that the Iwa-nin was there. Kazuya had a tendency to fade from the mind all too easily if too little attention was paid. Unfortunately for them both, this was pure paranoia fuel for the fragile-minded Ningyo. He knew Kazuya was a good person, as was Kizen (at least he hoped so), but he didn't like the thought that someone could be lurking out of sight and out of mind, watching and listening without him knowing. That was how this ordeal got started... and it was the fact that he trusted Kazuya that made his paranoia even more painful. He didn't want to be scared of him, but more than that he didn't want to freak out and lash out at him simply because his stupid brain failed to remember that the Iwa-nin was there the entire time.

"...It's better to come here..." Inochi stared down at the center of the table again, his grip on Natsuki's sleeve tightning. "...It's easier."

It was probably better if he didn't elaborate.

Natsuki didn't need Kizen to tell him not to talk. He had nothing to say. This was for Inochi. Well, he might want to say something if it became relevant. Maybe apologise to Kazuya - he looked happy to see them, and his face had quickly matched theirs when they approached without warmth. However, the Tsuchikage was talking, and he'd better listen, in case his sister spaced out and needed him to repeat it for her.

He couldn't help but think how... political the words coming out of Kizen's mouth were. Did he have any real feelings? Did he have any real idea what she had to go through then, and how hard she had it trying to recover? Inochi wasn't Inochi anymore. She was a stranger in her body... which wasn't her's anymore either. She'd always dressed as a man since the incident as well. Before, she only did that when depressed... her whole life was a gloomy one now.

Inochi's hollow words meant as little to Natsuki as they did to her, most likely. "That's a lie..." The boy said to himself, not accepting that this was enough. Yes, he was glad that they were apprehended or killed. But he still didn't have his sister back. He'd even lost part of himself that day. He would like that piece of him back very much, but if he had to sacrifice it permanently for Inochi to recover, so be it.

Kazuya, on the other hand, was as warm and tender as ever. It was amazing that a man like him was working with Kizen, who was so detached. Yet, even his kind words made Natsuki think negatively. Do you really think she's been well?! And damn straight I've been supporting her! What the hell else would I do?! He clenched down on the fabric on his legs, but managed to keep his composure. It wasn't fair to lash out at Kazuya. He wasn't responsible. He cared about this tragedy in a way that was beyond Kizen's understanding.

"I only did what any brother would do for their Aneki." He said instead, his voice sounding slightly strained. Yes... this was only natural for him. Natsuki wanted to see Inochi smile again. Even when he played the shamisen for her she was just a broken doll, unable to move or express itself. He wanted to see her wear a pretty dress again. Sure, he'd forced her into one a few times, but she felt and acted so uncomfortable that she ended up taking it off. If she couldn't wear it naturally, then she wasn't Inochi.

... The person clinging to his sleeve wasn't Inochi...

The Tsuchikage's head lifted, inclined slightly upward, just barely. In this manner, his gaze fell downwards on them, but with less focus, in a sense making him less likely to threaten the guests with his eyes. Still, he was still tall and he was easily intimiating nonetheless - it didn't matter what he did, simply because it was not in his nature to quail against even opponents who were greater in stature. That much was obvious in how he carried himself. The faintest hints of curiosity in his features were the only suggestion that he had heard anything that was said.

Kazuya was less stoic - at least at first. His cheer fell again as Natsuki's reaction became apparent despite what he said, and the Iwa-nin, if he had expressed himself on a greater level, would have appeared hurt by the response. Whatever he truly felt, however, he held back anything overwhelming, if there were any such emotions to be felt. His jaw dipped gently toward his chest, his bright, strange eyes closing momentarily before opening up carefully again on Natsuki.

"I..." He suffered a tiny smile before he continued sincerely, "...appreciate that very much." His guard strengthened and the greatest signs of weakness in his will faded as he glanced up at his superior officer, though not with fear or expectation. Just the sort of look that he might have given a classmate.

Kizen casually returned the younger man's gaze, sideways, before giving a subtle nod. His attention flitted elsewhere briefly, somewhere past the ones present at their table, apparently ill at ease even in his own village. If just a little. He visibly finished his scan, maybe feeling it was too soon as he paused, before scarlet hues drifted to Natsuki. He said at last, "You did well." He didn't look angry at all now - just weary, if that could be a facade believed. "Nothing I can do will make anything better for you, in your mind," he continued, but not matter-of-factly. "Are you expecting something of me?" Asked directly of Natsuki.

Inochi's attention was starting to waver, a dark look crossing his face as his gaze began to wander. His ears were straining, his attention strangely focused despite his eyes not looking at anything... he was eavesdropping again.

It had become a paranoid habit of his. He'd always made it a point in life to pay attention to his surroundings... after all, it was his job to gather information. However, ever since his first few days back in Kirigakure after the incident, his mind had started to descend into madness and paranoia. It was not unprovoked, no... he was actually relatively fine when he first got home... he'd left the pain and fear behind in Iwagakure. He was home... he was safe.

He was naive.

Not even a day after his return home, people were talking. People knew... how did they know...? They weren't supposed to know! News of the ordeal spread through the village like wildfire, how the Tsuchikage had organized the torture of a Kiri-nin who was in his village with a legitimate passport. How people were dying one by one because Kizen was looking for a scapegoat to blame in order to save his own social standing. How many times had he tried to speak out against it...? He tried... so many times he tried... but in the end he was too terrified. He wanted it to just go away.

To make it worse, some people in Kiri knew... they knew he was the victim. If they didn't, his brain was certainly tricking him into thinking it. He didn't know what voices were real anymore... if the voices talking behind his back were figments of his shattered mind, or if they were real people who wouldn't let go of the incident. That was one of the reasons he wore the hood now... it helped keep the false voices inside his head, to keep them from blending in with the real ones. That and it kept people from realizing that he was listening to them.

"...they still talk..."

He wasn't paying attention to any conversation in particular, wasn't paying attention to Kizen, wasn't paying attention to Kazuya, wasn't even paying attention to Natsuki anymore.

"...why do they still talk...? Why won't they just let it go...?"

Natsuki nodded slightly as Kazuya said that he 'appreciated' his efforts. Apparently he was hoping for a warmer reunion. Maybe he genuinely believed that Inochi would have recovered quickly, and that hearing about their success against her antagonists would make her feel better. Natsuki took some perverse pleasure in it, wishing he'd been there to punish them himself, but he was busy caring for Inochi. She needed it.

He couldn't help but think that Kizen was only saying these things because it was what his script said. He didn't pay attention to his weariness or the tone of his voice - normally he would, and would respond in a positive manner, but he just wanted someone to blame. The actual perpetrators were dead or captured, but Kizen still bore some responsibility. If he had've protected his borders better, been more careful, this would not have happened!

Before he responded, he looked to his sister. She was muttering to herself again. This was normal. He reached out to gently stroke her arm, to let her know that her brother was still there and cared about her. He turned back to Kizen, his expression hard. "What do I expect of you?" Natsuki asked, his voice carrying undertones of menace.

"I don't expect anything of you - not anymore. You've done all you can. I thank you punishing the people who did this. Truly I do." The ninja continued, his positive words not reflecting his emotions or tone. "However, I'm sure you can see for yourself that the damage is done. Look at her and tell me that she's doing fine. Did you know that this is the first time she's gone outside since the incident? This is Aneki on a good day - the best day she's ever had since the day."

As he continued, he got more and more upset. "Can you reverse time? Can you protect my sister when she's in your village? Can you erase her memories? Can you bring a smile back to her face? Can you heal her scars? No? Then I expect nothing of you! You can't bring Aneki back!!!" Natsuki practically yelled the last part, causing some people to turn and stare at them. His breathing was heavier after having said all this, but it did make him feel somewhat better to vent his emotions. He hadn't had the chance to express himself this way since this whole thing happened.

The cool stare with which the Tsuchikage regarded the ill-spoken Ningyo was one that could easily have been trademarked. It wasn't quite icy; it was almost searing, in fact, like the flare behind the closed door, bringing the wood to extreme temperatures, but remaining unseen... even though the possibility of burning right through the door could take only a second by misfortune. He was utterly under control, if he wasn't before, as though he commanded his own emotions with more control than he governed his village and his own words and actions.

"What, then," he said smoothly, every aspect of his voice so flawlessly manipulated that it was easy to see why he could so easily place any weak-willed shinobi at his mercy. He paused, as if to let the silence fill the void in his words, but he continued, "--Do you have against me?" The feral edge to his tone gave a sense of finality somehow, his question not warranting a response. Instead, he inclined his head slightly and went on.

"Does what you have no power over justify your anger?" For a moment Kizen may have seemed about to follow suit with Natsuki's outburst, but not once did his volume rise. He only grew more expectant, as if with every word spoken he expected greater responsibility - from all of them. "Does your defensive stance help you or your oneesan? Does it not bring more eyes on her, to wonder why the circumstances, unbeknownst to them, warrant your behaviour?"

By this point in time, his gaze had dwindled to a simple, questioning look that was looking for greater than what he had been given so far. He made a point of subtly gesturing with the incline of his head and a careful glance toward the rest of the building, housing the people who surely must be paying even more attention when they realized exactly who was part of the party in the back.

Red eyes turned unthreateningly to Inochi, but not squarely. "There are no voices to speak of her here." His gaze went back to Natsuki, a dip in his jaw. "No -- all eyes are on me."

And beside him, Kazuya merely sat in silent observation.

Inochi's reaction to Natsuki's outburst was an odd one, visually. A look of horror crossed the Ningyo's face, but his dead eyes ill-reflected the terror that overwhelmed him. His body went rigid, the blood draining from his face as he stared down at the table.

'They're not staring at me... they're not staring at me...'

Empty words inside his own head, trying to rid himself of the feeling of hundreds of burning knives burying themselves deep within the flesh of his back. His protective shield of cloth was failing... he could feel the nonexistent stares boring into his flesh, staring directly at the most vulnerable parts of his soul, of his entire being.

'I'm not here... I'm not here... I'm not here... I'm not here... I'M NOT HERE...!'

His eyes shut tight to block out the world, his hands clenching painfully as his sickly complexion seemed to somehow become more ashen. He was clutching Natsuki's sleeve so tightly that he could potentially constrict the flow of blood in his cousin's arm. His fingertips hurt from the tension, namely parts of the beds where the nails had yet to grow back, but fear once more overrid every part of his brain that could possibly recognize the pain.

The words spoken were nothing but white noise to him at this point. None of the real voices came through. Only he false ones rang clear, resonating in the depths of his mind, in past and present, driving home feelings of uselessness and self-loathing like a stake through the heart. As Inochi slowly risked opening his eyes again, however, reality slowly, slowly began to filter back in.

"There are no voices to speak of her here. No -- all eyes are on me."

...Amazing how the first words to sink in were the ones to stab him deeper than any false voices had managed. Inochi could feel the vaguely familiar stinging behind his eyes--how long had it been since he last wept?--as it slowly dawned upon him just how messed up he truly was. He had fallen so far... he was sick of being broken. He was sick of false voices, sick of fear, sick of thinking that everyone he saw was ready to draw a knife the instant he turned his back.

He was a failure as a shinobi, and a failure as a person. He was distracted with his own pain, his own fear... He wasn't the only person affected by this ordeal. Kizen had been the focus of so much negative attention, was under the threat of losing his position... that was his fault too. All because he was too stupid to keep himself from getting caught. And this wasn't something that was going to just go away, either... The mind and body could heal... but the damage that had been done to Kizen's life was never going to disappear. And it was all his fault.

And it wasn't just Kizen either. Natsuki had suffered a lot too. He was so dependent on Natsuki, so needy and clingy and desperate that Natsuki was almost never able to leave his side. Natsuki had changed a lot, too... Inochi's grip went lax as that thought crossed his mind, his hand falling to his side. The Natsuki that sat beside him now wasn't the Natsuki he had grown up with... a part of Natsuki had died somewhere along the way, all because of him...

And Kazuya... poor Kazuya had gotten caught up in the entire thing too. The incidents at the hospital, the entire ordeal with tracking down the people responsible, having to deal with people dying one after the other as the perpetrators each offed themselves and having to deal with the outbreak of rumors that surfaced with each death. Everything was his fault... he had caused trouble for Kizen, Kazuya, Natsuki, his entire family, their respective villages... it was all his fault.

"...I'm sorry..." Say more than that, you idiot. "...I'm... so....rry..."

The look in Kizen's eyes was one that even he couldn't ignore. As he listened, Natsuki ground his teeth in anger... angry at himself for losing control and drawing attention, angry at Kizen for making complete logical sense, angry at the people watching them... just angry in general. However, he just silently seethed as he tried to swallow his emotions.

Inochi was holding onto him very tightly again. He was used to it by now, though it didn't mean it wasn't uncomfortable, or even a bit painful. Natsuki childishly averted his eyes from Kizen as he spoke, as if saying that even though the man was right, he wasn't going to say so. If he were himself, he'd never have said something as harsh as he'd said, but as he was, it wasn't something he'd take back. Just because it was true that he'd over-reacted by blaming Kizen didn't mean that it felt wrong.

It just so happened that he was looking at Inochi when she started to tear up. "Aneki?" Natsuki asked, concerned about her. She'd cried a lot in her sleep after the torture, but this soon stopped. It didn't mean she was getting better, however. It just made her seem more... emotionally dead. She didn't have any personality, barely reacted to anything he said or did. This wasn't the worst of it - after a few weeks, she hardly spoke at all, just asking for food or water. In a month, Inochi was practically mute. Any day where she said something... anything was a good day. Natsuki feared she'd lose her voice entirely...

Natsuki gave her a quick hug. "Shhhh... don't apologise... it's not your fault." He whispered warmly in her ear, not knowing exactly what it was she was sorry for, but telling her not to worry all the same. This show of emotion, however small, helped dissolve some of his anger. It gave him hope that maybe after today, things would be a little easier for the both of them. Maybe there really was some hope for recovery.

It was Kizen's turn to say nothing. He was facing forward, but Natsuki had moved more into Inochi's space, where he would not be met with a straight on look from the Tsuchikage. His gaze was settled somewhere in the Ningyos' direction, but was not focused on either of them. Through his two-toned bangs, it was difficult anyway to tell exactly what he was paying attention to, or if he was paying attention to anything at all. All in all, he didn't appear particularly interested, but he was nonetheless listening.

Kazuya, on the other hand, stepped in. "Please don't worry, Ningyo-kun," he told Inochi - or them - both calmly and kindly, as controlled as Kizen in this instance but with a different tone medium. "None of this is your fault. I don't think anyone in Iwagakure... or even Kirigakure, thinks you are at fault." No, they could all fill in the blanks: if this was anyone's fault, it was Kizen's. Somewhere along the line, somehow it was. "We just wanted to apologize that our security is not as it should have been then... that you had to be involved against your will."