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Yahiko
Patience. Deep breaths. In, out. That's what it is to be a ninja. Practice patience.
Yahiko bit his lip to keep from groaning. He didn't want to be patient, he wanted to be reading more about forest spirits that may or may not be his neighbors. Next to that, what use was organizing racks of clothes or cleaning out changing rooms? He spent five minutes trying to decide whether one article should go in front of or behind another in the rainbow he arranged the rack into, and ultimately gave up because he couldn't muster the concentration to really think about it at all. What did it matter if a camisole was a slightly lighter or darker shade of peach than the one next to it? They were both just clothing.
Yahiko caught himself. What am I saying? Clothing matters. Good choices of clothing make the person wearing them feel good about themselves, send a message about who they are, things like that. I know clothing matters, because I spent so much time performing Transformation Jutsu in order to give myself just the right outfit. Despite that, right then, there seemed to be only one article of clothing that mattered enough to be included on the list of things that mattered most. Yahiko's more ordinary interests were being crowded out.
He tried to push through it. He tried to look around when he wasn't busy, see if anything or anyone strange entered the store. Neither strategy worked. He performed some chakra control exercises he'd devised with Sasori's help, but rather than satisfying his need for fulfillment, they increased it so that he felt more uninspired and unmotivated by everything he looked at. It's a department store. It's not supposed to be a place full of energy and life. It's a nice place where I can relax for a while. But he did not want to relax. He wanted to be trying new things, learning, making new plans. The strength of this desire scared him. Am I going nuts like Konan did?
At some point, the head of his department must have come over to discreetly supervise his work, because she walked up to him while he was in the middle of returning items from the changing room. Yahiko tried not to spill anything as he jumped. How did I not see her coming? His attention was more frayed than one would expect of a ninja. His fear that he might be losing control of his mind increased.
She pulled him over to some chairs against the wall. Yahiko put down his load and followed. She sat across from him in what he would have recognized as therapist mode, if he had ever been to one. "Are you all right?" she asked. "I'm concerned about you. You looked worried and tense just now. Is everything okay?"
Yahiko remembered the epiphany he had had earlier, that his time away from the base need not also be time away from being a ninja. "No," he admitted. "I've, um…" His jaw opened and closed. He was suddenly unable to form any idea of what he could say next. What do I say and how do I say it? "Um…" He looked for inspiration. What would Nagato say? "Well…" What would Hidan say? Hidan had said that NPCs didn't care, that there was no reason to hide anything from them. Yahiko had no idea how to see his boss as an NPC instead of a person, but he took a deep breath and gave it his best try. "I'm learning medical jutsu, and also researching forest spirits in case we have some," he hesitantly said. His voice was barely more than a whisper. He fought not to cringe as he said it. How crazy do I sound?
Her face softened. "It sounds like you have a lot on your plate," she said soothingly. "Is there anything you need? Anything that could help?"
Yahiko met her eyes. They were clear and blue, and they looked just as concerned for him as she had claimed. His shoulders untensed and relaxed. He hadn't noticed they were tense. He looked down at the floor. What do I need? He was very confused to find that the urge to get away and curl up with his book was no longer as strong. How? Why? I thought I needed to express this crazy energy inside, do all of the things that seem so much more important than clothes right now. His boss still sat across from him, being very reassuring. Yahiko reminded himself of his epiphany. Or maybe, I just needed to feel like I wasn't being trapped away from being able to be a ninja. He looked back up at her and smiled. "Thank you, I… I think I just needed to be able to talk about it at all while I was here."
She gently touched him on the shoulder. "I don't want anyone feeling like they have to keep secrets for 8 hours of the day. Not on my watch." She got up and watched him go back to work before she left.
Yahiko found his concentration much improved. He narrowed his eyes at the camisole he'd hung earlier and moved it to the other side. There. It was lighter, not darker. He stood back and surveyed his work. I can be just as much of a ninja here as back home, he reminded himself. I don't have to hide or stop being any part of myself.
Another epiphany sprung upon him from nowhere, and Yahiko wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. I'm standing in the middle of Outfit Central. This is the perfect time to be looking for inspiration! The next time he was called to restock discarded items from the changing room, he looked at each item carefully as he returned it to the rack. Doesn't fit my figure. Too loose. Nice cut, but I don't think the color would go well with my hair. Ooh, that would go well with my hair. Steadily, by thinking about what would work and what wouldn't in the clothes he handled, Yahiko built a wardrobe for his female form in his mind. Yes! Now this is good! I love working here!
Sasori
Several hours before Yahiko rediscovered his love of clothing and all things fashionable, Sasori tossed on his clothes without even noticing that he was doing so, grabbed his jacket and helmet, and held his motorcycle upright for several seconds. He was already hot inside his jacket, his heart was beating strongly, and he hadn't been able to concentrate all morning.
Deidara had noticed and followed him around all morning, obviously concerned for his best friend's well being. The blonde came to stand on the other side of the motorcycle. "Is something wrong? I mean, more wrong than before, hm?"
"I don't know what's causing this. Yes, it is worse than before. Why am I so frightened?" Sasori wondered. "I know I have to somehow return the price sheet Itachi copied today." Said sheet was like a flat piece of nearly molten iron in his pocket. His frayed attention had kept wandering back to it all morning. "That doesn't fully explain the nerves, though." The motorcycle's seat looked like worse than a bar of red-hot iron. Sasori really didn't want to get on it. In fact, he was hard pressed to think of a body part he wouldn't sacrifice in order to not get on it. What is wrong with me? I've never been a very anxious person. I've never even been very anxious about the success of something I really wanted to be successful in. If anything, I might have a bit of a problem with apathy. I've been shaking more in the past week than I've considered shaking in my entire life. Is the use of chakra messing with my head? Is it from being around Konan?
Or maybe nothing's wrong with me. Konan had stolen from him, the succubus had nearly pulled his soul out of his body, the succubus had done many other things he desperately did not want to think about to his soul before trying to pull it out of his body. In comparison, Sasori could not think of a single thing his boss had ever done which approached those levels of seriousness. The past week has been demonstrably more dangerous than before. I'm not prone to becoming anxious over nothing, so if I do become anxious, there must be a reason for it. Perhaps I should trust my instincts.
He replaced the kickstand and stepped back from the motorcycle. "In any case, I'm clearly not riding into work today." Sasori patted the motorcycle apologetically, remembering the day the racing bike had showed up. "I've run the distance from there to here before. If I'm on foot, I can shortcut through the woods, which cuts down on the distance. It takes about the same time as riding in normally does."
"Hm." Deidara looked thoughtful. "You freaked out over nothing on Saturday, yeah."
Sasori inhaled very quickly and loudly on reflex. He and Deidara looked at each other afterwards. "That could be related to how I'm feeling today," Sasori concluded. He remembered every hair on his body standing on end and his mouth becoming dry, all for no apparent reason. Wait a minute, that was actually the second time I've reacted like that. The first would be when I ran from the shop, even though I had no real reason to fear him. Sasori realized all of his mystery freakouts were related to his place of work. He wondered if these bursts of anxiety were like what Deidara experienced when the blond remembered his past. Maybe I secretly was stressed out by the conditions and didn't know it.
"They may not be for no reason," he told Deidara. The blond perked up, but then looked even more worried as he realized what Sasori was saying. "I never told anyone about the time I ran from the shop to here, because it involved me freaking out and nearly panicking while at the shop. I thought my boss would do...something. I didn't have anything exact in mind. That was after he tried to intimidate me into confessing that I stole something from him. I thought he might do something as punishment," Sasori recalled.
Deidara gulped. "Seriously? Damn…" His face formed a battleground for warring emotions. He bit his lip, as if to avoid saying something.
Sasori knew damn well what the blond was probably thinking. "You don't need to remind me," he said while holding up a hand. "You've always told me I shouldn't allow myself to be in such conditions. You were right. I don't have any clear reason to be afraid of him, so it is possible that the accumulated stress is getting to me now. If I could have, it would have been a good idea to take your advice." Sasori was ever so grateful that this very simple and effective method of resolving conflict was available to use. After several years of working to rid himself of unnecessary pride and many more years of thinking about doing so before that, he was proud to note that his last sentence only elicited a twinge of discomfort.
Deidara snorted. He tried not to sound too prideful, but he felt it all the same. "You could have, hm," he chided Sasori.
"No, I'm fairly sure whatever mysterious force placed us in our positions wouldn't have allowed that. I didn't have the self-awareness required to make that decision before the false memories ended," Sasori reminded his friend.
Deidara blinked. "Oh." He shook his head and reminded himself of the current topic of discussion. "Anyway, hm, you've got Laurie to back you up now, yeah. Do you have her number?"
Sasori reached for his phone with smooth mechanical movements. His mind was elsewhere. "That's a thought…" Come to think of it, there's more to the shop than just being a terrible place to work. Have I told anyone besides Laurie about the bicycles? Sasori checked his contacts list. "I do not. If I'm going to talk with someone at a distance, I generally use email."
Deidara opened his own contacts. "Email won't help you get an inside scoop on what he's doing, hm. Here it is."
While he entered that in, Sasori remarked aloud, "You know, ever since Konan appeared, I've started noticing some strange things around my place of work. The shop has some unusual phenomena going on. I have very good reasons to be more anxious than usual."
Deidara coughed. "W-what? What kind of things?"
Sasori wasn't sure how much he really wanted to reveal. He didn't have many firm conclusions to draw yet. "Have you seen lots of bicycles around town?" he asked instead. "Not being ridden. Just propped up in random places."
Deidara looked down. "I saw one that didn't look abandoned near one of the abandoned houses, yeah. I've seen some on sidewalks and street corners. Not a lot." His brows furrowed. "But, wait, why would a bike be left on a street corner, yeah?"
Sasori started to guide his motorcycle back to where he parked it. "The shop has a greater than usual quantity of bicycles around it," was the scrap of an explanation he fed Deidara. "I'm reluctant to say more, but that's what I've seen." The kid wisely kept his mouth shut and did not press for more. It warmed Sasori's heart to see that he'd matured over the past years, and Sasori was no longer overheated so that was a good thing.
Despite parking his motorcycle, and despite the morning not being very chilled, Sasori kept his jacket on. He reluctantly hung up the helmet, but he had a feeling he might need the tough leather. It would help him feel more protected, at any rate. His work jacket, however, was subject to debate. Sasori was unsure if he would need it. He hung it up too.
Deidara saw this and opened his mouth to ask a question, but closed his mouth when he couldn't think of a question to ask. Sasori shrugged. "It's that kind of day, apparently," he told Deidara. "I'll tell you what's happening after I find out."
"The shop's also where the succubus came to try to get you, so be careful, yeah," Deidara urged. "This is reminding me of how we felt heading out to fight her, yeah. I hope it doesn't turn into a fight, but I don't know anymore, do I?"
Sasori patted him on his head. "I'll look out for myself," he promised. "If worst comes to worst and the shop's turned into a portal to hell, there's only one thing I need to get from there. With Laurie's help, I should be able to get it."
"What, hm?"
"My tools."
.
Sasori's senses were on full alert as he walked slowly and silently toward the shop. He avoided roads, brushing aside the branches of encroaching trees instead. He had always appreciated the wilds that crept up on the neglected grounds of the shop for their fresh air, which provided such a contrast to the oily smells inside. Now, Sasori wondered if his ninja instincts had been expressing themselves even back then. The growth made him feel safer as well as cleaner.
He approached the edge of the terrible little road which led away from the shop and called Laurie. He picked up his speed on some long-buried instinct, scuttling along the side of the road. His abdominal cavity was tense and he could feel his heartbeat in it, but the feeling wasn't paralyzing. Deidara was absolutely correct. It was just like fighting the succubus.
Laurie answered after the second ring. "Hello?" she whispered.
Sasori was halfway to the rocky and sandy back parking lot. His heart sank. Why is she whispering over the phone? "What is he doing?" the engineer asked. Mission time was no time for niceties.
"Sasori?" she whispered back. "He's not doing anything. I mean anything. He looked like he was thinking of something else when I clocked in, and now… He looks...composed."
Oh shit. Sasori narrowed his eyes and composed his thoughts. Objectives: I need to get my tools to fix the broken tricycle, and I need to return the price sheet so he can't reasonably charge me with anything. That means I need to get to my work space and get into his office. Both places are under supervision, and I must avoid being caught at all costs. How can I do this?
"Sasori?"
He relaxed and remembered that his was not a solo mission. "Yeah. I was just thinking. I have a tricycle that needs fixing, so I need my tools. I also need to return the list of materials to his office. I have strings, so I could do both from a distance, but I would need at least a window to see what I was doing, and it would take some time." The small window in his own space was on nearly the opposite side of the room from his drawers where he kept the bike tools, and the couple of windows he had seen in the boss' office were very visible from the door.
There was silence on the other end of the line. He knew Laurie would need more time than he would to come up with a plan, so he crept up to the parking lot while he waited. "Oh, fuck me," he hissed involuntarily.
"What?"
"There's another customer back here too." Sasori rubbed a hand down his face. "I can control machines with my strings, so I can get it, but that's a third thing I have to do. I am going to have some very harsh words with these things when I get back."
He heard Laurie quietly sigh on the other end of the line. "You could come back," she advised. "I don't think anyone can blame you for taking a while to fix them if you have to sneak around like this to do it."
Sasori nodded. "Getting him and getting my tools would require the manager to stay out of my space for too much time. I can't ask you to stall for that long in one shot. He is trespassing into my space, isn't he?"
"Yup."
"How often? And how often is he in his own office?"
The phone beeped, and Sasori saw that the call had been ended. He turned his ringer to vibrate and kept his phone in his hand as he snuck around the side of the building. Regardless of what she found, he would need a dependable and quick way around. He found one. Thanks to the rocky soil, there were a lot of trees that were too small and scrubby to be called such, and only grass had gotten a foothold, and not much of one. He had cover and would not make obvious rustling sounds, though the unhealthy grass was just enough to muffle his footsteps. Sasori skittered quickly through the sparse cover around to the office windows. His feet adjusted better than he would have expected to the rocky ground. Maybe Other Me lived somewhere rocky. I should ask.
After crouching there for five minutes, trying to see through the windows, Sasori's phone vibrated. "Report."
"Sorry for cutting you off; he came to check on me. I watched for a while after that. He looked at the clock when he stopped by my desk, and he's poking his head into your place a lot more. He's impatient. Good time to go for his office."
"Can you keep an eye on him now?"
"Yeah."
"Wait for him to go into his office, and then leave. As soon as he leaves and starts poking into my place again, I'll go."
Sasori kept the phone to his ear while he took out the price sheet from his pocket and unfolded it with his strings. Huh. I don't need to attach different strings to different parts of it, like I would if it was real string. My chakra just roots itself in or something; I can control the whole thing with one string. I've been wondering about that. He could sneak the paper in and unfold it with only one string. Presumably, he would be able to do the same with the bicycle as well. First Deidara, now sapient bicycles. What is it with people and asking me to take care of them? He could have chosen not to. He could have told Deidara he had no interest in being personal friends when the kid waved at him a week after the accident. He could leave this one behind in the parking lot. He could...but then what would he do? Sasori's eyes softened as he remembered Rusty. That cat… Something about taking care of him just got me into the habit, I guess. Or maybe it's a way to remember him. He was such a good cat.
"Door's opening," Laurie whispered. "...Now!"
Sasori propelled himself quickly over the short distance between the trees and the side of the building, hesitated, and ran up the building's side. One string caused the window's latch to open itself. He peered in. I have the paper. All I need is a tack or something. He made a note to kick himself for not having brought one later. Oh thank goodness. Good to see he manages something sensibly. A small number of tacks were kept embedded in the board where they would be used. Sasori sent in two strings to tack the paper onto the board in approximately its former position. Then he closed the window and made it latch itself. "Got the paper back in place. Now, can you get him away from my window for five to ten seconds?"
"I'll try." The amount of ambient noise on the other end increased, and there was the sound of much shuffling. She had apparently turned her phone on speaker and put it in her pocket. Sasori heard her approach and innocently ask the boss what he was so concerned about. There was worryingly little response, so she escalated to asking him if she could help. She didn't have anyone in right now, so surely it was alright to take five minutes to help~?
Sasori smirked from his position beyond the edges of the back lot and stifled a snort. Predictably, a tirade started on the other end of the line. Silently, because he couldn't afford to give her part in this away (I could never forgive myself if I did), he held out a hand and used five strings to pick up the damaged bicycle and drag it back to him through the air. In less than four seconds, he had it safely behind him and also under cover.
Sasori took a deep breath and let it out slowly, before holding the phone to his ear and listening to the rest of the tirade. After listening to a few seconds of it, he turned his phone on speaker and pressed the Record button on the app he used for that. It sounds so much harsher now than it ever did before. Sasori wasn't going to enjoy going back over his recordings now that he knew who "front desk girl" was and how strong she could be. I can't post something that terrible on a comedy website, either. What was I thinking? He felt a little sick. I didn't think about how she was affected beyond a little bit of token sympathy, oh isn't it a shame, that sort of thing. If I had, I would have gotten the hell out of here sooner and taken him down with me. His tear ducts felt warm. I was wrong. Self-awareness isn't all I needed to think of doing something. Even when I had those false memories, if I'd thought of people besides myself, I could've done it. Deidara was still right.
He closed his eyes and lifted his fingers, which still held the damaged bicycle in their strings. Slowly, Sasori began to walk away from the hellhole his preferred job had turned into. And even now, I'm asking her to go through it all again, just for me. And I'm not doing anything. His whole eyes felt warm. I'm sorry. But what good does that do?
He stepped over a log, absentmindedly lifting the bicycle as well. It had been only a few minutes of chewing her out for being a useless ditz, how she was never to leave her desk again, how dare she step outside her job to poke her shabby little nose into business that wasn't hers, etc., but that was long enough. He was relieved to stop recording. He sat down on the log and laid the bicycle down on the grass, waiting for Laurie to come back.
The ambient noise decreased. There was some more shuffling, then: "Sasori?" It was more than a whisper; it was a pained whisper. Even if he was nominally in her corner, knowing that could only do so much when she had to face the boss' anger alone. Sasori closed his eyes and tried to ignore how moist they had gotten.
"I'm sorry." His eyes prickled to say that. It didn't sound like enough.
"Huh? For what?" Her voice was beginning to recover.
Sasori swallowed to settle his stomach. "I never really thought before. I wanted to post his voice on a comedy website because it's just so over the top, in a 'glad that's not me' sort of way. I never thought about who was on the other end of that. I wasn't curious about who 'front desk lady' was. If he hadn't taken that day off, and your happiness hadn't caught my attention, I still wouldn't…" His voice threatened to crack.
"Hey…" Laurie tried her best to be soothing. "Did you get the bike?"
"Yeah."
"Good. I'll call you if he gets mad enough to storm out and take the rest of the day off, or something." Her voice gained strength. "Do it. Post his voice somewhere for people to laugh at. That's one of the best things you could do with it. Make him laughable." She chuckled. "Don't forget, I don't know anything about machines. You do. You're my way out of here."
Sasori opened his eyes, blinked them clear, and looked down at the damaged bicycle. Its chains were broken. In human, that translates to torn ligaments, or maybe tendons. Whatever it is that muscles pull on to move. "Yeah. I could show you how to oil and polish them, and you could put the finishing touches on them. I don't know if that matters, but I could." Do they have feelings?
"Maybe." Her voice dropped to a whisper again. "I'll call." Beep.
Sasori closed his eyes and placed his phone in his pocket. I can still do something to make up for it. He relaxed his shoulders and promised that he would, whatever that meant.
He stood the bicycle up and carried it beside him, just barely keeping its wheels off the ground to keep the chain from turning. He looked at it with a growing sense of anger when he could see the woods thin out in the distance. "You," he told it, "are going to be the last bicycle I ever pick up from that hellhole. I am not doing that anymore."
The bicycle was silent. Sasori looked forward again. "Glad we had this talk."
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