Moriko's recovery was slow.
The problem had started not too long after the debate had ended. At first she had thought she and Tsukiya had run into something, but not only was he not ill, nothing unusual had happened when they had been patrolling. She had received her commission upgrade to Chuunin in the mail, since the government was in some kind of disarray, and that was that.
A week later she couldn't get out of bed.
The more worrying thing was that no healer could make sense of it. Clan medical ninja, externally called ones, experts on illness all--nothing. The best they could do was the same advice:
"Keep her fed. Don't move her."
So when it came down to the possibility of moving the clan at least temporarily when the Shadow Steward made himself evident, Tsurara Yuri's word as the leader of the ninja side of the clan--the dominant and true one, really, over the elders--was a simple, "No.
"We are not moving," she said. "We made a decision: to live in Sand, where we have served as long as we have been able. Some of us braved the Maelstrom to come live and serve here, when it was active. The rest of us knew it was right to join them and not continue living out in Soon's Haven, where we are hated for being a ninja clan. It was the right call then, and it remains the right call now.
"Yes, it places us into position for this pretender, this vile charlatan, to pressure us. But he can do that regardless of where we are. Don't pretend that we could escape the reach of one like that without abandoning the Land of Wind entirely. We have been here for many centuries. Neither heat nor scorn nor adversity have yet driven us out. This shadow will not either.
"In the meantime, what do we do? Lock down the compound. Guard the youth. Those of us moving out in the world, find allies. Pass information. Spy on him and his. Do what we can. Those loyal to Suna need informants, and Tsurara are everywhere. Many of us have the traits necessary to be underestimated or escape that type of notice. We do what we must, and we will aid those trying to retake our land as we can.
"The true forces of Suna need those who will not move. That will be us. It is not without risk, but it is necessary."
No one dared say Yuri would have spoken differently if her daughter were not ill and unable to be moved. Some didn't believe she cared--and those who knew otherwise knew better than to say.
~
There was one sole exception to the lockdown, of course.
"I will see her regardless," Tsukiya said calmly. Firmly. The gate guard at the Tsurara Clan compound regarded him uncomfortably.
Tsukiya had received his own promotion from his exam the day before the Shadow Steward had taken over. By a thin veil of timing, he was legimitately a Chuunin. And he had been coming in and out of the Tsurara compound for years, now. Everyone there knew him.
"What's the hold up?"
He glanced past the guard to see Hanae, Moriko's unspoken favourite cousin. Most likely, that was because Hanae was, quite simply, cool. She didn't eschew any of the Tsurara Clan rules deliberately, but carried them off much better. Much like Moriko, all the 'silk' part of their 'silk hiding steel' was purely visual. Hanae even stepped on the hair tradition--there were dyed stripes of red woven into her long pale blue braid.
"He's not clan," the guard said, shifting a bit between her feet. The same pale blue crystals of the rest of the clan lined her voice, making the unease more apparent. "There's a lockdown."
"He's here for Moriko," Hanae said. Unlike the rest of the clan, it was red ice crystals for her voice--sharp and authoritative. "If Mikuni Tsukiya isn't trustworthy for Moriko, then absolutely no one outside the gate is and we should just give up. Let him in. Yuri-san wants to talk to him anyway."
Tsukiya raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He'd only seen Moriko's mother in passing before. It was his general opinion that while Moriko was probably incorrect Yuri did not care deeply for her, Yuri was generally inept at showing that care in any way most people could read. Either way she wasn't much of a mother.
"Lockdown, hm," he said, rather than asked. That wasn't overly surprising; either they would move or they would lock down, and unlike many clans, the Tsurara didn't have the ability to mobilize for a move rapidly. They were too rooted and had too many young children. Never mind Moriko's condition. "As of today?"
"As of this morning," Hanae said. "Let him in, Akiko."
Akiko shuffled again, but sighed; Hanae clearly had authority and Yuri's name eroded most objections anyway. She rubbed the crystal in the gatehouse and the doors swung open, and Hanae stepped out of the gatehouse on the other side as Tsukiya entered.
"Her condition hasn't really changed," Hanae said, matching his pace as they entered the open compound, past the narrow archway and path.
"I understand," Tsukiya said. "I wasn't expecting anything, and I've yet to find anything."
"The Underworld is not a place to be poking around," she said. Tsukiya concealed his surprise with an evaluating look. "We're everywhere, you know. Even more, going forward. Besides, you won't find anything there but bad deals for Kinjutsu."
"Everything is worth a look," Tsukiya said. He wasn't going to take half-measures where the only person he'd ever truly cared about was concerned.
"Getting yourself killed doesn't help Moriko," Hanae warned. He pursed his lips.
"I am not being that reckless," he said. "I am also not a student anymore."
"I suppose," she said. Albeit reluctantly.
They reached the main strip of houses. As always, Tsukiya marveled at how they'd managed to both conceal the obvious wealth underneath a veneer of simplicity. There was land here, and the houses were all well-appointed with the necessary. No servants or jewels, no, but a sophisticated training area, every child who wanted a pet had one, and any useful object a clan member wanted, they had available. There was something admirably pragmatic about it. Moriko was in some ways a product of her clan more than she realized.
Standing out front of one, the one he'd been in many times, was a woman who could only have been Moriko's mother.
Tsurara Yuri was beautiful, Tsukiya acknowledged. Like most of the clan, but on another level. Perhaps some of it was the fact she was also clearly a hard person. Unlike Moriko, her hair was cropped short above her shoulders, but she was tall and lean, with a trademark Tsurara ice bow and quiver across her back. Her clothes were of the simple style many in Sand claimed, thin brown leather cut off high on her arms and legs, with practical archery gloves to complete it. There were strips of pale blue as well, as a call to her clan, but most Sunans would have pegged her from her hair and the bow.
The distance he recalled the previous times he'd seen her was gone; right now, she was solid and present.
"Mikuni-san," she said when he halted five feet away, and he tilted his head in acknowledgement. Her words were a deeper, sharper blue than the rest of them. "I need to speak with you about Moriko."
She did not seem accusing.
"All right," he said peaceably. Yuri nodded toward Hanae, who sketched a slight bow and went back off to her duties. Tsukiya followed Yuri into the house.
"As you've no doubt been informed," Yuri said, leading him to the kitchen, "Moriko is in the same condition. She wakes potentially once per day, where she is barely able to eat. We have an IV set up for fluids. The only thing that remains strong is her chakra, which appears to be fighting the illness."
She waved her hand when they reached the kitchen, giving him permission to sit, and sat across from him.
"It does not match any illness any medic or doctor I have located knows of," Tsukiya said.
"Nor any we have," Yuri said. "It is possible it is hereditary from her father's side. Last we had heard, he had moved toward Earth Country--but that was more than fifteen years ago. We did not bother tracking him. He did not mention any such thing to me when we spoke of children, so I consider it unlikely."
Tsukiya nodded slowly. "And he was not of any ninja clan."
"No," she said. "Nor was he one himself. It isn't an illness of that type from our side, either. Or one anyone in this country appears to have heard of. We've reached out to varying contacts across the country and in some limited others."
"My family has lived in Wind Country a long time," Tsukiya said after a pause where it was clear she wanted him to say something. "We lived in Grass for a time during my childhood, but we were always from here."
"Do you have extant family outside of your parents?"
"If I do, I am unaware of them," he said honestly. "Rationally, it is likely I do. But I know of no way to find them. I do not even know my mother's surname before marriage."
Yuri pursed her lips, then shook her head. "I could have someone press her if you aren't averse. But it's still a long shot on contacts outside the country is what you're saying."
"Yes," he said. "I'd allow it. If you could get anything out of her, that is. I'm not adverse to the try."
"You are a very unusual boy," she said. Just as bluntly as Moriko would have. "Most your age would abandon a girl who has been sick for over a month already."
"I will never abandon Moriko," Tsukiya said. Putting it into his voice as strongly as he could as a truth of the world. There was no point to it, without her--might as well just start shredding people, otherwise.
Yuri stared at him, assessing. Her eyes were not Moriko's indigo, but rather a deep brown that was close to black. He'd been told he had unnerving eyes too, mind, and did not flinch. There was no lie for her to peel back.
"Good," she said finally. She sat back. No tea had been offered, he realized abruptly; other Tsurara who wanted to talk to him always did. Perhaps Moriko was correct and Yuri could not cook or even really make tea. "As you have no doubt been made aware, we are going on lockdown. I need to maneuver, and Moriko needs a caretaker. I would not be good at it regardless. And I...feel as though she would prefer you to me."
"You aren't worried I'll take advantage?" His tone was lightly probing; he wanted to see if she was a decent read on character, and not just reaching for hope.
"Not a chance," she said dismissively. "There are many points you could have taken advantage of my daughter, through ways and means, in the past, and you never have. I don't see why you would now."
Perhaps less 'a decent read' and more 'analytical.' Something spiked in him, hard, at the resemblance that abruptly kindled. He shuttered his expression.
"Then I will do it," he said. "I will take a few hours to fetch my things--you can send someone with me to talk to my mother, if you like. They will not notice I'm gone."
"Hanae will go with you," Yuri said, standing up. He did as well. Not much on formal 'hello-goodbye' here either. He kept control of himself through his breathing. "Does it bother you that this increases the risk to your parents, to be so clearly associated with us?"
"No," Tsukiya said. She didn't press for reasoning beyond that, just nodding instead. Perhaps she didn't care.
Or perhaps she had simply already guessed.
~
Tsukiya's mother had nothing for them but a maiden name and vagueness, and Hanae accepted both with obviously-strained politeness. Tsukiya swiftly packed up his things--clothes, tools, training tools, weapons, and his music collection--into a bag, and shouldered his way back through the market with Hanae.
"Which part of Wind is your family from?" Hanae asked after they left the Bazaar. The air was stilted, but the people were as numerous and pushy as ever, so that could be ignored.
"I'm not sure," Tsukiya admitted. It had never seemed important. "Why?"
"Your mother's surname--never mind." She was frowning. "It might give us a lead on contacts, is all. It's peculiar to a specific subset of Wind Country natives. Old. Do you have another language?"
"...Yes," he said, almost unwillingly. "I know you do too."
"We're from the mountains," she said. Almost dismissively. "We were there a long time. You're actually from the desert, if your mother's surname isn't an unheard-of fluke. Your people don't marry outside their own much, so I suppose your father must be as well."
He didn't know what to say, so he shrugged. "I have no idea if we abide by old traditions or not. They don't explain things well."
"I did get that part," she said wryly. "I'm astonished you're so well-adjusted. At least I have some kind of lead."
Something, he agreed, was better than nothing.
They reached the compound again and Hanae told the guard, firmly, that Tsukiya lived here now and he could come and go like any trained-enough clan member. Tsukiya appended to that that he probably wouldn't, much, given the why of why he was living there now.
There were other Tsurara spouses around, of course, but many of them dyed their hair to match the clan, unless they were elderly. Since he had no intention of doing that, they'd have to remember to let in this specific blond. How taxing for them.
Yuri wasn't there this time when they crossed the compound. Tsukiya went up to Moriko's room and set his things aside, and Hanae helped him move a bed in from the guest room next door unasked. It would be better if he slept in there, just in case, after all. Finally, he did what he'd been dreading and turned to Moriko.
She was, as often these days, unconscious. There was a thin sheen of sweat on her brow, which was paler than usual and drawn. Her hair was an unruly mess all over the pillow, already lengthened to be unmanageable. A thin sheet draped over her, no blanket to keep too much heat in. Instead of any sort of normal pyjamas or nightgown, she was wearing an oversized shirt. Tsukiya knew that once ever few days a female cousin, a mednin, would come in and wash her off and launder her shirt.
She didn't appear to be in pain, at least, but her chakra sparked visibly frequently, which wasn't exactly a positive sign by anyone's metrics. The air around her was noticeably warmer than the rest of the room, as if it was deliberately venting off any excess heat.
"Hey Moriko," Hanae said softly, leaning over her. She brushed a few strands of errant blue hair from her cousin's face. "I brought the person you wanted here most. He's going to be staying at least until you're better, okay?"
Moriko may or may not have heard that; neither her breathing nor her posture--arms tucked overtop the covers--changed. Hanae sighed.
"Do what you can," she said. "A medic will be in later to start training you what to do in case of emergency."
He nodded and swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I understand."
Hanae squeezed his shoulder, cast a look over hers that was both sad and bitter, and left.
Tsukiya hauled a chair over and sat on it, staring at Moriko. He was becoming used to seeing her like this, but it didn't make it less wrong. Moriko should be up on her feet, loud and bold and defiant, uncaring of what nearly anyone thought of her. Not small and tucked into a bed all day, pallor belying her large personality.
He reached out to take her hand. The air around her was still warm and sparking with indigo chakra. Her hand, too, was warmer than he was used to.
I should get a fan in here, he thought, not shifting his gaze from her face. It might make it easier on her.
He settled in for the wait for the mednin, watching her breathe.
~
Time passed.
Tsukiya became accustomed to a schedule. Wake up, check on Moriko, flick the fan he'd ordered set up for the day, and wash up quickly. Have breakfast when someone tagged him briefly to either give him food or let him prepare his own.
Watch Moriko carefully. Most frequently she woke briefly some time in the late morning to early afternoon. When she did, he would feed her food that had been set aside for her preserved on a special plate touched with chakra. She could chew and swallow fine, even though she was rarely lucid, but not sit up. So he was careful with her.
He had his own lunch after she went back to sleep. On the days where the mednin came in to handle Moriko's physical needs, washing her up and so on, he would step outside and do a little training in the wide area of the Tsurara grounds. On other days, Hanae or a messenger would catch him up and update him on efforts toward locating his family or a cure.
All of which was a dead end, but he appreciated being kept in the loop.
Yuri did not make it home every night. Sometimes, he knew, she did stay with someone else in the compound. Sometimes she simply was out all night coordinating the retuned Tsurara spy network.
Because whether or not anyone thought of it--Tsurara were indeed numerous. Multiple went through the Academy every year, and their strong network and training meant few perished in the field. They also didn't particularly stand out; yes, they were to a one very pretty, but most Tsurara did not aspire for attention or notoreity. They were competent, reliable, and present. They did not attract attention.
Which was perfect for spies, truly. What techniques and tactics they used, he did not know and did not want to. Tsukiya was more concerned with results.
Which they seemed to get on every subject but Moriko's illness.
On the days Yuri made it back, they would sometimes eat together and she would sometimes be so late she'd immediately go to bed. It didn't much matter; they rarely spoke. On the days she didn't, someone else would come tag him out so he could eat.
Go to sleep, do it all again the next day.
It made him restless. He had to pull on reserves of patience he hadn't since he was young and nigh-alone in Grass. He could vent frustration now and then when training, but it didn't help much when one of his thoughts there was of not wanting to leave Moriko behind. It was wrong, a discordant note, that she wasn't there with him.
He moved the chair and pushed his bed over to be next to hers. Days where the mednin showed up he could push it back.
The first night Tsukiya slept like that he woke up in the morning with his arm draped over Moriko. The air was still warmer, but the sparks had slowed.
And Moriko had shifted for the first time he'd seen--onto her side, to let his arm drape over her better.
"Moriko?" he murmured. But there was no response, and he did, reluctantly, have to get up so he could eat, wash up, and get her food for later ready.
This became the norm for sleep. Tsukiya would wake up with his arm over Moriko, and her turned toward him, breathing softly. It gave him a catch in his throat every time. Yes, but not like this...
After a few weeks of this, he woke in the morning with her not only turned toward him, but pressed into him--her head on his shoulder, her arm over him. Practically clinging, even. He swallowed.
"Can you wake up for me?" he murmured, bringing over the hand not resting on her to brush her hair back. "Please?"
"..'kiya," Moriko mumbled. He stilled. "There?"
"Right here," he promised.
"Mm," she said, and sighed, and fell silent again.
He was vaguely worried this meant she wouldn't wake up later for food, but she did.
That afternoon, when he came back in from training after the mednin washed her up, he stared at the sparks.
What did they mean? What were they connected to, anyway? Moriko had fallen ill before the Shadow Steward was active, certainly, but it seemed a bit of a coincidence that one of the frontrunners in the Sennin Games had this happen to them.
Stretch it out further--one reason for the current crisis was because they'd lost two of the others who had ascended to higher posts as well.
What if this wasn't an illness?
They'd been assuming it was an illness, because the way that the Tsurara Clan thought of their young heiress did not quite pattern out to reality--Moriko was a young ninja, just barely Chuunin, why would she have enemies?
But to Sand at large--Moriko had been a strong contender for a leadership position. She had been biting at the heels of the frontrunner in the first round, and walked away from the abruptly-dismissed second looking impressive. On top of that, not only had she impressed enough for a promotion, she had the ostensible backing of a strong clan.
Had she been targeted? As a potential threat--if she was this able to attract positive attention now, take her out before she got any stronger?
Tsukiya sat down heavily on his bed and stared at the sparks, thoughts firing. He didn't have the head for long-term strategy; he was all quick-thinking adaptability. Moriko was the strategist, which was yet again a thing that made her dangerous.
All right. Assume it was a novel poison and she had in fact been targeted. How had someone gotten to her with it? She'd gotten sick shortly after the end of the Games...
He stood and leaned out the window, searching. Sure enough, there were numerous blue heads around, some attached to rather shorter people.
"Hello!" he called down. Several people looked up, of varying ages. "I need someone to fetch either Hanae or Yuri, please."
"Yuri-san isn't home," one of them said, but one of the children had already scampered. He nodded and drew his head back in.
He didn't have long to wait; Hanae's steps were swift in the door and up the stairs.
"Tsukiya-kun?" She'd taken to calling him that. "Is something wrong?"
"We've been calling it an illness," he said. "What if it's poison?"
Hanae inhaled sharply and looked at Moriko's still form, uncertain. "I don't--she fell ill before all that--"
"I doubt he and his only started operating the minute he took over," Tsukiya said. "Hanae. Listen to me. Moriko was a threat. Like Chikamatsu Shin. Like Uziuke. Do you understand? It's a poison."
She stared at him for a second, then looked between him and Moriko a few times and finally nodded slowly.
"I don't know how that helps, but I'm not a medic," she said. "I'll get someone."
She left, and a mednin came in--different than the caretaker--shortly after. He checked her over, tsking a few times, and finally nodded, then turned to Tsukiya.
"It is," he said. "It's poison--but I don't recognize it. In her current state, I'm not sure how much damage it will do to her system to use the usual purging techniques. Her chakra is holding her together right now, just about."
Tsukiya didn't say anything right away, just crossed the room to take her hand.
"Use mine," he said.
The mednin paused. "That's not--that isn't how the jutsu works. It uses the life force of the person we're purging the poison from."
He pursed his lips, then sighed. He'd been keeping this one secret, as it didn't feel right to tell anyone before Moriko herself, but he'd been suspecting it for some time. "I am...uncertain why or how, but I believe our chakra is connected in some way. You should be able to take the bulk of the cost on the patient's side from me. Please do not spread this around."
He'd suspected it since before Moriko had fallen ill, and even intended on talking to her about it the day he'd come and she hadn't been able to get up. Suspected it, ever since she told him that the wrist device from the Games seemed to pick up on someone other than her, when it ran on her chakra.
By now he'd turned it over in his head and yes, it was apparent--somehow, in some way, they were connected. They could investigate it together later.
"That's..." The mednin took his wrist in one hand, and then Moriko's in his other. "...What? That's...there's some kind of resonance there. Have you done anything to cause this?"
"No," Tsukiya said. "I don't know how it happened. Can you use it?"
"I--yes," the mednin said. "This will hurt."
"Go ahead," he said. He knew how the jutsu worked.
The mednin hesitated, and then Tsukiya heard him mutter some kind of prayer to his ancestors before starting on the handseals. One-handed, like the whole clan. Tsukiya determined that couldn't hurt.
תן לזה לעבוד. בבקשה.
There was a sharp sensation in his arm when the mednin laid a hand on him, and a visible shock of green jolted into Moriko. It looked stronger than usual; undoubtedly it had been cast harder, for the apparent strength of this particular poison. Tsukiya felt briefly dizzy, but it was washed away by the loud gasp from nearby and his head snapped in that direction.
The indigo sparks were gone, and instead wide indigo eyes stared out at him, Moriko's complexion slowly returning to normal as he watched.
"Tsukiya?" she said faintly, and he exhaled in relief.
"Good afternoon, darling," he said, before laying back and passing out.
~
Tsukiya was fine, the mednin determined as Moriko watched in shock, limbs still shaking a bit, he'd just had his life force zapped rather hard by the System Shock he'd offered himself for. He sped out after that, leaving Moriko to haul him over into the other, nearby bed and stare at him.
I thought...I was dreaming...was he really here the whole time?
She'd been doing a lot of dreaming. About the mountains, and about varying things nonsense and not. Sometimes she was vaguely aware when eating, though surely it couldn't have been every day, as she was certain she'd been out longer than that many days.
And about a great cat, strong, with rosetted fur, that watched over her most of the time and curled up near her every night. Around her, the last few nights. She'd felt...
Safe...
And now she was awake. She couldn't say, exactly, why she'd known the cat was Tsukiya. Long she had teased him about being closer to rabbits, mostly from his name. But. The big cat was certainly him. Larger and more impressive than any cat she'd ever seen.
There was no question, then. She'd been mentally working at it since the CURO--the device still sat in a box of things on her dresser--but there it was, then. They were connected, and the second signal in there had been Tsukiya's chakra.
"Well then," she said aloud, eyeing him, arms folded, not caring she was standing in her room with hair absolutely everywhere and dressed only in a long sleeping shirt, "we're going to talk about this when you wake up. And everything else."
Hanae rushed in moments later, though she didn't hug Moriko due to her preferences, only exclaiming at her.
"Months," she said, when applied to, and Moriko flinched. "A lot has happened. We'll have to fill you in. And determine what you should be doing when you feel better."
"All right," she said, and sat down on Tsukiya's bed next to him. Subject tabled for now. He'd spent months at her bedside; she could wait no more than hours for him. Hanae smiled at her and departed.
It didn't take that long, of course; it couldn't have been more than half an hour before Tsukiya was sitting up and blinking at her, then smiling, and he wrapped her into a strong hug that let her latch onto him back.
"I'm so glad I was able to figure that out," he murmured. She withdrew and shot him a look requesting an explanation. "You weren't sick; you were poisoned. I'm sure your family is already on working on how. A lot has happened--the brief of it is that Sand is currently under direct control of a dangerous dictator, and your family is working chiefly as a major part of the spy network for the resistance."
She processed that one with some surprise, blinking. "Uziuke--"
"Vanished," Tsukiya said solemnly. "The man in charge is no one you know of. There is at once a great deal and very little to brief you on before proceeding--but the first thing you will have to attend to, after that, is recovery and training."
Moriko exhaled. "Yes. Are you living here now? Am I expected to kick you out or something?"
"Yes," he said. "And no, no such assumption has been made. Besides, I will only leave if you want me to, my dear."
"Stay," she said instantly. In response, he brushed a hand through her hair and kissed her forehead lightly, making her relax. "They can't complain if we're in separate beds, right?"
"I am sure some will, but if you do not care, neither do I," he said. "We will do as the two of us want and according to no one else, as ever."
"Good." She leaned on him. He didn't care she was a mess, so she didn't either. "A lot to do, then."
"Yes," he said, "but, in the least, we are both here to do it."
True.
She wouldn't waste that.
[Topic Entered/Left]
The problem had started not too long after the debate had ended. At first she had thought she and Tsukiya had run into something, but not only was he not ill, nothing unusual had happened when they had been patrolling. She had received her commission upgrade to Chuunin in the mail, since the government was in some kind of disarray, and that was that.
A week later she couldn't get out of bed.
The more worrying thing was that no healer could make sense of it. Clan medical ninja, externally called ones, experts on illness all--nothing. The best they could do was the same advice:
"Keep her fed. Don't move her."
So when it came down to the possibility of moving the clan at least temporarily when the Shadow Steward made himself evident, Tsurara Yuri's word as the leader of the ninja side of the clan--the dominant and true one, really, over the elders--was a simple, "No.
"We are not moving," she said. "We made a decision: to live in Sand, where we have served as long as we have been able. Some of us braved the Maelstrom to come live and serve here, when it was active. The rest of us knew it was right to join them and not continue living out in Soon's Haven, where we are hated for being a ninja clan. It was the right call then, and it remains the right call now.
"Yes, it places us into position for this pretender, this vile charlatan, to pressure us. But he can do that regardless of where we are. Don't pretend that we could escape the reach of one like that without abandoning the Land of Wind entirely. We have been here for many centuries. Neither heat nor scorn nor adversity have yet driven us out. This shadow will not either.
"In the meantime, what do we do? Lock down the compound. Guard the youth. Those of us moving out in the world, find allies. Pass information. Spy on him and his. Do what we can. Those loyal to Suna need informants, and Tsurara are everywhere. Many of us have the traits necessary to be underestimated or escape that type of notice. We do what we must, and we will aid those trying to retake our land as we can.
"The true forces of Suna need those who will not move. That will be us. It is not without risk, but it is necessary."
No one dared say Yuri would have spoken differently if her daughter were not ill and unable to be moved. Some didn't believe she cared--and those who knew otherwise knew better than to say.
~
There was one sole exception to the lockdown, of course.
"I will see her regardless," Tsukiya said calmly. Firmly. The gate guard at the Tsurara Clan compound regarded him uncomfortably.
Tsukiya had received his own promotion from his exam the day before the Shadow Steward had taken over. By a thin veil of timing, he was legimitately a Chuunin. And he had been coming in and out of the Tsurara compound for years, now. Everyone there knew him.
"What's the hold up?"
He glanced past the guard to see Hanae, Moriko's unspoken favourite cousin. Most likely, that was because Hanae was, quite simply, cool. She didn't eschew any of the Tsurara Clan rules deliberately, but carried them off much better. Much like Moriko, all the 'silk' part of their 'silk hiding steel' was purely visual. Hanae even stepped on the hair tradition--there were dyed stripes of red woven into her long pale blue braid.
"He's not clan," the guard said, shifting a bit between her feet. The same pale blue crystals of the rest of the clan lined her voice, making the unease more apparent. "There's a lockdown."
"He's here for Moriko," Hanae said. Unlike the rest of the clan, it was red ice crystals for her voice--sharp and authoritative. "If Mikuni Tsukiya isn't trustworthy for Moriko, then absolutely no one outside the gate is and we should just give up. Let him in. Yuri-san wants to talk to him anyway."
Tsukiya raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He'd only seen Moriko's mother in passing before. It was his general opinion that while Moriko was probably incorrect Yuri did not care deeply for her, Yuri was generally inept at showing that care in any way most people could read. Either way she wasn't much of a mother.
"Lockdown, hm," he said, rather than asked. That wasn't overly surprising; either they would move or they would lock down, and unlike many clans, the Tsurara didn't have the ability to mobilize for a move rapidly. They were too rooted and had too many young children. Never mind Moriko's condition. "As of today?"
"As of this morning," Hanae said. "Let him in, Akiko."
Akiko shuffled again, but sighed; Hanae clearly had authority and Yuri's name eroded most objections anyway. She rubbed the crystal in the gatehouse and the doors swung open, and Hanae stepped out of the gatehouse on the other side as Tsukiya entered.
"Her condition hasn't really changed," Hanae said, matching his pace as they entered the open compound, past the narrow archway and path.
"I understand," Tsukiya said. "I wasn't expecting anything, and I've yet to find anything."
"The Underworld is not a place to be poking around," she said. Tsukiya concealed his surprise with an evaluating look. "We're everywhere, you know. Even more, going forward. Besides, you won't find anything there but bad deals for Kinjutsu."
"Everything is worth a look," Tsukiya said. He wasn't going to take half-measures where the only person he'd ever truly cared about was concerned.
"Getting yourself killed doesn't help Moriko," Hanae warned. He pursed his lips.
"I am not being that reckless," he said. "I am also not a student anymore."
"I suppose," she said. Albeit reluctantly.
They reached the main strip of houses. As always, Tsukiya marveled at how they'd managed to both conceal the obvious wealth underneath a veneer of simplicity. There was land here, and the houses were all well-appointed with the necessary. No servants or jewels, no, but a sophisticated training area, every child who wanted a pet had one, and any useful object a clan member wanted, they had available. There was something admirably pragmatic about it. Moriko was in some ways a product of her clan more than she realized.
Standing out front of one, the one he'd been in many times, was a woman who could only have been Moriko's mother.
Tsurara Yuri was beautiful, Tsukiya acknowledged. Like most of the clan, but on another level. Perhaps some of it was the fact she was also clearly a hard person. Unlike Moriko, her hair was cropped short above her shoulders, but she was tall and lean, with a trademark Tsurara ice bow and quiver across her back. Her clothes were of the simple style many in Sand claimed, thin brown leather cut off high on her arms and legs, with practical archery gloves to complete it. There were strips of pale blue as well, as a call to her clan, but most Sunans would have pegged her from her hair and the bow.
The distance he recalled the previous times he'd seen her was gone; right now, she was solid and present.
"Mikuni-san," she said when he halted five feet away, and he tilted his head in acknowledgement. Her words were a deeper, sharper blue than the rest of them. "I need to speak with you about Moriko."
She did not seem accusing.
"All right," he said peaceably. Yuri nodded toward Hanae, who sketched a slight bow and went back off to her duties. Tsukiya followed Yuri into the house.
"As you've no doubt been informed," Yuri said, leading him to the kitchen, "Moriko is in the same condition. She wakes potentially once per day, where she is barely able to eat. We have an IV set up for fluids. The only thing that remains strong is her chakra, which appears to be fighting the illness."
She waved her hand when they reached the kitchen, giving him permission to sit, and sat across from him.
"It does not match any illness any medic or doctor I have located knows of," Tsukiya said.
"Nor any we have," Yuri said. "It is possible it is hereditary from her father's side. Last we had heard, he had moved toward Earth Country--but that was more than fifteen years ago. We did not bother tracking him. He did not mention any such thing to me when we spoke of children, so I consider it unlikely."
Tsukiya nodded slowly. "And he was not of any ninja clan."
"No," she said. "Nor was he one himself. It isn't an illness of that type from our side, either. Or one anyone in this country appears to have heard of. We've reached out to varying contacts across the country and in some limited others."
"My family has lived in Wind Country a long time," Tsukiya said after a pause where it was clear she wanted him to say something. "We lived in Grass for a time during my childhood, but we were always from here."
"Do you have extant family outside of your parents?"
"If I do, I am unaware of them," he said honestly. "Rationally, it is likely I do. But I know of no way to find them. I do not even know my mother's surname before marriage."
Yuri pursed her lips, then shook her head. "I could have someone press her if you aren't averse. But it's still a long shot on contacts outside the country is what you're saying."
"Yes," he said. "I'd allow it. If you could get anything out of her, that is. I'm not adverse to the try."
"You are a very unusual boy," she said. Just as bluntly as Moriko would have. "Most your age would abandon a girl who has been sick for over a month already."
"I will never abandon Moriko," Tsukiya said. Putting it into his voice as strongly as he could as a truth of the world. There was no point to it, without her--might as well just start shredding people, otherwise.
Yuri stared at him, assessing. Her eyes were not Moriko's indigo, but rather a deep brown that was close to black. He'd been told he had unnerving eyes too, mind, and did not flinch. There was no lie for her to peel back.
"Good," she said finally. She sat back. No tea had been offered, he realized abruptly; other Tsurara who wanted to talk to him always did. Perhaps Moriko was correct and Yuri could not cook or even really make tea. "As you have no doubt been made aware, we are going on lockdown. I need to maneuver, and Moriko needs a caretaker. I would not be good at it regardless. And I...feel as though she would prefer you to me."
"You aren't worried I'll take advantage?" His tone was lightly probing; he wanted to see if she was a decent read on character, and not just reaching for hope.
"Not a chance," she said dismissively. "There are many points you could have taken advantage of my daughter, through ways and means, in the past, and you never have. I don't see why you would now."
Perhaps less 'a decent read' and more 'analytical.' Something spiked in him, hard, at the resemblance that abruptly kindled. He shuttered his expression.
"Then I will do it," he said. "I will take a few hours to fetch my things--you can send someone with me to talk to my mother, if you like. They will not notice I'm gone."
"Hanae will go with you," Yuri said, standing up. He did as well. Not much on formal 'hello-goodbye' here either. He kept control of himself through his breathing. "Does it bother you that this increases the risk to your parents, to be so clearly associated with us?"
"No," Tsukiya said. She didn't press for reasoning beyond that, just nodding instead. Perhaps she didn't care.
Or perhaps she had simply already guessed.
~
Tsukiya's mother had nothing for them but a maiden name and vagueness, and Hanae accepted both with obviously-strained politeness. Tsukiya swiftly packed up his things--clothes, tools, training tools, weapons, and his music collection--into a bag, and shouldered his way back through the market with Hanae.
"Which part of Wind is your family from?" Hanae asked after they left the Bazaar. The air was stilted, but the people were as numerous and pushy as ever, so that could be ignored.
"I'm not sure," Tsukiya admitted. It had never seemed important. "Why?"
"Your mother's surname--never mind." She was frowning. "It might give us a lead on contacts, is all. It's peculiar to a specific subset of Wind Country natives. Old. Do you have another language?"
"...Yes," he said, almost unwillingly. "I know you do too."
"We're from the mountains," she said. Almost dismissively. "We were there a long time. You're actually from the desert, if your mother's surname isn't an unheard-of fluke. Your people don't marry outside their own much, so I suppose your father must be as well."
He didn't know what to say, so he shrugged. "I have no idea if we abide by old traditions or not. They don't explain things well."
"I did get that part," she said wryly. "I'm astonished you're so well-adjusted. At least I have some kind of lead."
Something, he agreed, was better than nothing.
They reached the compound again and Hanae told the guard, firmly, that Tsukiya lived here now and he could come and go like any trained-enough clan member. Tsukiya appended to that that he probably wouldn't, much, given the why of why he was living there now.
There were other Tsurara spouses around, of course, but many of them dyed their hair to match the clan, unless they were elderly. Since he had no intention of doing that, they'd have to remember to let in this specific blond. How taxing for them.
Yuri wasn't there this time when they crossed the compound. Tsukiya went up to Moriko's room and set his things aside, and Hanae helped him move a bed in from the guest room next door unasked. It would be better if he slept in there, just in case, after all. Finally, he did what he'd been dreading and turned to Moriko.
She was, as often these days, unconscious. There was a thin sheen of sweat on her brow, which was paler than usual and drawn. Her hair was an unruly mess all over the pillow, already lengthened to be unmanageable. A thin sheet draped over her, no blanket to keep too much heat in. Instead of any sort of normal pyjamas or nightgown, she was wearing an oversized shirt. Tsukiya knew that once ever few days a female cousin, a mednin, would come in and wash her off and launder her shirt.
She didn't appear to be in pain, at least, but her chakra sparked visibly frequently, which wasn't exactly a positive sign by anyone's metrics. The air around her was noticeably warmer than the rest of the room, as if it was deliberately venting off any excess heat.
"Hey Moriko," Hanae said softly, leaning over her. She brushed a few strands of errant blue hair from her cousin's face. "I brought the person you wanted here most. He's going to be staying at least until you're better, okay?"
Moriko may or may not have heard that; neither her breathing nor her posture--arms tucked overtop the covers--changed. Hanae sighed.
"Do what you can," she said. "A medic will be in later to start training you what to do in case of emergency."
He nodded and swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I understand."
Hanae squeezed his shoulder, cast a look over hers that was both sad and bitter, and left.
Tsukiya hauled a chair over and sat on it, staring at Moriko. He was becoming used to seeing her like this, but it didn't make it less wrong. Moriko should be up on her feet, loud and bold and defiant, uncaring of what nearly anyone thought of her. Not small and tucked into a bed all day, pallor belying her large personality.
He reached out to take her hand. The air around her was still warm and sparking with indigo chakra. Her hand, too, was warmer than he was used to.
I should get a fan in here, he thought, not shifting his gaze from her face. It might make it easier on her.
He settled in for the wait for the mednin, watching her breathe.
~
Time passed.
Tsukiya became accustomed to a schedule. Wake up, check on Moriko, flick the fan he'd ordered set up for the day, and wash up quickly. Have breakfast when someone tagged him briefly to either give him food or let him prepare his own.
Watch Moriko carefully. Most frequently she woke briefly some time in the late morning to early afternoon. When she did, he would feed her food that had been set aside for her preserved on a special plate touched with chakra. She could chew and swallow fine, even though she was rarely lucid, but not sit up. So he was careful with her.
He had his own lunch after she went back to sleep. On the days where the mednin came in to handle Moriko's physical needs, washing her up and so on, he would step outside and do a little training in the wide area of the Tsurara grounds. On other days, Hanae or a messenger would catch him up and update him on efforts toward locating his family or a cure.
All of which was a dead end, but he appreciated being kept in the loop.
Yuri did not make it home every night. Sometimes, he knew, she did stay with someone else in the compound. Sometimes she simply was out all night coordinating the retuned Tsurara spy network.
Because whether or not anyone thought of it--Tsurara were indeed numerous. Multiple went through the Academy every year, and their strong network and training meant few perished in the field. They also didn't particularly stand out; yes, they were to a one very pretty, but most Tsurara did not aspire for attention or notoreity. They were competent, reliable, and present. They did not attract attention.
Which was perfect for spies, truly. What techniques and tactics they used, he did not know and did not want to. Tsukiya was more concerned with results.
Which they seemed to get on every subject but Moriko's illness.
On the days Yuri made it back, they would sometimes eat together and she would sometimes be so late she'd immediately go to bed. It didn't much matter; they rarely spoke. On the days she didn't, someone else would come tag him out so he could eat.
Go to sleep, do it all again the next day.
It made him restless. He had to pull on reserves of patience he hadn't since he was young and nigh-alone in Grass. He could vent frustration now and then when training, but it didn't help much when one of his thoughts there was of not wanting to leave Moriko behind. It was wrong, a discordant note, that she wasn't there with him.
He moved the chair and pushed his bed over to be next to hers. Days where the mednin showed up he could push it back.
The first night Tsukiya slept like that he woke up in the morning with his arm draped over Moriko. The air was still warmer, but the sparks had slowed.
And Moriko had shifted for the first time he'd seen--onto her side, to let his arm drape over her better.
"Moriko?" he murmured. But there was no response, and he did, reluctantly, have to get up so he could eat, wash up, and get her food for later ready.
This became the norm for sleep. Tsukiya would wake up with his arm over Moriko, and her turned toward him, breathing softly. It gave him a catch in his throat every time. Yes, but not like this...
After a few weeks of this, he woke in the morning with her not only turned toward him, but pressed into him--her head on his shoulder, her arm over him. Practically clinging, even. He swallowed.
"Can you wake up for me?" he murmured, bringing over the hand not resting on her to brush her hair back. "Please?"
"..'kiya," Moriko mumbled. He stilled. "There?"
"Right here," he promised.
"Mm," she said, and sighed, and fell silent again.
He was vaguely worried this meant she wouldn't wake up later for food, but she did.
That afternoon, when he came back in from training after the mednin washed her up, he stared at the sparks.
What did they mean? What were they connected to, anyway? Moriko had fallen ill before the Shadow Steward was active, certainly, but it seemed a bit of a coincidence that one of the frontrunners in the Sennin Games had this happen to them.
Stretch it out further--one reason for the current crisis was because they'd lost two of the others who had ascended to higher posts as well.
What if this wasn't an illness?
They'd been assuming it was an illness, because the way that the Tsurara Clan thought of their young heiress did not quite pattern out to reality--Moriko was a young ninja, just barely Chuunin, why would she have enemies?
But to Sand at large--Moriko had been a strong contender for a leadership position. She had been biting at the heels of the frontrunner in the first round, and walked away from the abruptly-dismissed second looking impressive. On top of that, not only had she impressed enough for a promotion, she had the ostensible backing of a strong clan.
Had she been targeted? As a potential threat--if she was this able to attract positive attention now, take her out before she got any stronger?
Tsukiya sat down heavily on his bed and stared at the sparks, thoughts firing. He didn't have the head for long-term strategy; he was all quick-thinking adaptability. Moriko was the strategist, which was yet again a thing that made her dangerous.
All right. Assume it was a novel poison and she had in fact been targeted. How had someone gotten to her with it? She'd gotten sick shortly after the end of the Games...
He stood and leaned out the window, searching. Sure enough, there were numerous blue heads around, some attached to rather shorter people.
"Hello!" he called down. Several people looked up, of varying ages. "I need someone to fetch either Hanae or Yuri, please."
"Yuri-san isn't home," one of them said, but one of the children had already scampered. He nodded and drew his head back in.
He didn't have long to wait; Hanae's steps were swift in the door and up the stairs.
"Tsukiya-kun?" She'd taken to calling him that. "Is something wrong?"
"We've been calling it an illness," he said. "What if it's poison?"
Hanae inhaled sharply and looked at Moriko's still form, uncertain. "I don't--she fell ill before all that--"
"I doubt he and his only started operating the minute he took over," Tsukiya said. "Hanae. Listen to me. Moriko was a threat. Like Chikamatsu Shin. Like Uziuke. Do you understand? It's a poison."
She stared at him for a second, then looked between him and Moriko a few times and finally nodded slowly.
"I don't know how that helps, but I'm not a medic," she said. "I'll get someone."
She left, and a mednin came in--different than the caretaker--shortly after. He checked her over, tsking a few times, and finally nodded, then turned to Tsukiya.
"It is," he said. "It's poison--but I don't recognize it. In her current state, I'm not sure how much damage it will do to her system to use the usual purging techniques. Her chakra is holding her together right now, just about."
Tsukiya didn't say anything right away, just crossed the room to take her hand.
"Use mine," he said.
The mednin paused. "That's not--that isn't how the jutsu works. It uses the life force of the person we're purging the poison from."
He pursed his lips, then sighed. He'd been keeping this one secret, as it didn't feel right to tell anyone before Moriko herself, but he'd been suspecting it for some time. "I am...uncertain why or how, but I believe our chakra is connected in some way. You should be able to take the bulk of the cost on the patient's side from me. Please do not spread this around."
He'd suspected it since before Moriko had fallen ill, and even intended on talking to her about it the day he'd come and she hadn't been able to get up. Suspected it, ever since she told him that the wrist device from the Games seemed to pick up on someone other than her, when it ran on her chakra.
By now he'd turned it over in his head and yes, it was apparent--somehow, in some way, they were connected. They could investigate it together later.
"That's..." The mednin took his wrist in one hand, and then Moriko's in his other. "...What? That's...there's some kind of resonance there. Have you done anything to cause this?"
"No," Tsukiya said. "I don't know how it happened. Can you use it?"
"I--yes," the mednin said. "This will hurt."
"Go ahead," he said. He knew how the jutsu worked.
The mednin hesitated, and then Tsukiya heard him mutter some kind of prayer to his ancestors before starting on the handseals. One-handed, like the whole clan. Tsukiya determined that couldn't hurt.
תן לזה לעבוד. בבקשה.
There was a sharp sensation in his arm when the mednin laid a hand on him, and a visible shock of green jolted into Moriko. It looked stronger than usual; undoubtedly it had been cast harder, for the apparent strength of this particular poison. Tsukiya felt briefly dizzy, but it was washed away by the loud gasp from nearby and his head snapped in that direction.
The indigo sparks were gone, and instead wide indigo eyes stared out at him, Moriko's complexion slowly returning to normal as he watched.
"Tsukiya?" she said faintly, and he exhaled in relief.
"Good afternoon, darling," he said, before laying back and passing out.
תן לזה לעבוד. בבקשה.
Allow this to work. Please.
Allow this to work. Please.
~
Tsukiya was fine, the mednin determined as Moriko watched in shock, limbs still shaking a bit, he'd just had his life force zapped rather hard by the System Shock he'd offered himself for. He sped out after that, leaving Moriko to haul him over into the other, nearby bed and stare at him.
I thought...I was dreaming...was he really here the whole time?
She'd been doing a lot of dreaming. About the mountains, and about varying things nonsense and not. Sometimes she was vaguely aware when eating, though surely it couldn't have been every day, as she was certain she'd been out longer than that many days.
And about a great cat, strong, with rosetted fur, that watched over her most of the time and curled up near her every night. Around her, the last few nights. She'd felt...
Safe...
And now she was awake. She couldn't say, exactly, why she'd known the cat was Tsukiya. Long she had teased him about being closer to rabbits, mostly from his name. But. The big cat was certainly him. Larger and more impressive than any cat she'd ever seen.
There was no question, then. She'd been mentally working at it since the CURO--the device still sat in a box of things on her dresser--but there it was, then. They were connected, and the second signal in there had been Tsukiya's chakra.
"Well then," she said aloud, eyeing him, arms folded, not caring she was standing in her room with hair absolutely everywhere and dressed only in a long sleeping shirt, "we're going to talk about this when you wake up. And everything else."
Hanae rushed in moments later, though she didn't hug Moriko due to her preferences, only exclaiming at her.
"Months," she said, when applied to, and Moriko flinched. "A lot has happened. We'll have to fill you in. And determine what you should be doing when you feel better."
"All right," she said, and sat down on Tsukiya's bed next to him. Subject tabled for now. He'd spent months at her bedside; she could wait no more than hours for him. Hanae smiled at her and departed.
It didn't take that long, of course; it couldn't have been more than half an hour before Tsukiya was sitting up and blinking at her, then smiling, and he wrapped her into a strong hug that let her latch onto him back.
"I'm so glad I was able to figure that out," he murmured. She withdrew and shot him a look requesting an explanation. "You weren't sick; you were poisoned. I'm sure your family is already on working on how. A lot has happened--the brief of it is that Sand is currently under direct control of a dangerous dictator, and your family is working chiefly as a major part of the spy network for the resistance."
She processed that one with some surprise, blinking. "Uziuke--"
"Vanished," Tsukiya said solemnly. "The man in charge is no one you know of. There is at once a great deal and very little to brief you on before proceeding--but the first thing you will have to attend to, after that, is recovery and training."
Moriko exhaled. "Yes. Are you living here now? Am I expected to kick you out or something?"
"Yes," he said. "And no, no such assumption has been made. Besides, I will only leave if you want me to, my dear."
"Stay," she said instantly. In response, he brushed a hand through her hair and kissed her forehead lightly, making her relax. "They can't complain if we're in separate beds, right?"
"I am sure some will, but if you do not care, neither do I," he said. "We will do as the two of us want and according to no one else, as ever."
"Good." She leaned on him. He didn't care she was a mess, so she didn't either. "A lot to do, then."
"Yes," he said, "but, in the least, we are both here to do it."
True.
She wouldn't waste that.
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