Naruto: Dreaming of Sunshine

What happens is not as important as how you react to what happens. ~ Thaddeus Golas

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"Damn, Sparky," Kankurou said, leaning on the railing carefully outside the exclusion zone that my friends had set up around me. "And here I thought you were only good at getting stabbed."

"My talents are many and varied," I said solemnly, not having the energy to get upset about his poking. Kiba's suspicious Inuzuka concoction had reduced my post-soldier pill shaking from 'uncontrollable seizures' to 'merely shivering' but I still felt terrible.

And it was my own fault for taking two soldier pills then driving myself to chakra exhaustion, so I couldn't even complain about it.

"They sure as hell are," Kankurou agreed, which was high praise. Truly. "You know, there's a saying in Suna about giving a seal master time to prepare. It goes a little like; Don't."

"Words of wisdom," I agreed, which appeared to satisfy him and whatever two cents worth of opinion he wanted to give. He moved off, sauntering back towards Gaara and Temari.

"I don't know if I like that guy," Ino muttered quietly. "Jerk."

"He's alright." I shrugged. "He looked after Hinata." Said girl went a little pink across the cheeks, indicating she was listening, but didn't say anything.

"Please raise your standards," Ino said. She went through another round of fussing, checking my temperature and pulse and pulling Chouji's donated – and dry – jacket closer around my shoulders. "Are you sure you don't want to see the medics?"

I forced down another tasteless bite of ration bar. "Food and rest," I said. "That's all they're going to recommend. You know it. I know it. Even Kiba knows it."

"Hey, which of us has the most experience with soldier pills?" Kiba shot back, because he had no problems with interrupting conversations after someone mentioned his name. Or ever, really. "I don't appreciate that 'even'."

"Especially Kiba knows it?" I corrected.

Down on the field belong, ninja were scurrying about and then congregating to discuss. Possibly to decide what they were going to do for the next fight. There was really no chance of fixing the field – which I refused to feel bad about – and there was nowhere to really move the fights to, because the stadium was right here.

Neji and Lee were called down, and it seemed they had just decided to go with it as it was.

"Thank you so much," Sasuke said, glaring. "I have to fight Gaara next in a desert."

"Excuse you," Kiba said, giving him a challenging look. "I'm going to win our fight, so I'm the one she just screwed over."

"Oops," I said. "Ah. Well."

I looked at Ino. She shrugged. No, no ideas there either.

"You want some exploding notes?"

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "Somehow, I don't think that will be enough."

"I can make a seal for you," I offered uncertainly. "But that was basically every idea I had that I thought would work against him. I don't know what else I could make."

"No," Sasuke said. "I'll fight it my way. You're just going to owe me forever."

"Okay," I agreed peaceably and dropped my head onto his shoulder. "Now shush. We have to watch Lee and Neji."

I'd always wondered how it worked, when Lee was so good and so fast, that he still always lost to Neji who Naruto had beaten. The difference, it seemed, was that Lee had no choice but to engage in taijutsu (and probably frankly never considered doing otherwise) or at close range with a staff, which was slightly safer but only slightly.

While Lee was fast, and had great skill, a single touch would spell doom for him.

And Neji had complete and utter control over his area of divination. If he was slower, it wasn't sufficient to hamper him because his 360 degree vision let him see any attack coming in more than enough time to prepare for it.

What was impressive was the amount of feints, the amount of attacks that Lee aborted at the very last moment, the way he managed to pull back before they could be touched with Gentle Fist and turned into an injury.

The crowd collectively groaned when the first one landed.

Lee skidded backwards.

"Is that all?" Neji asked, sliding into a ready stance, palms forward and steady.

Lee grinned, a blinding flash of white teeth. "Hidden Lotus!"

Opening the gates might have given him extra power and extra speed but they also started the clock ticking. He couldn't hope to outlast Neji like this, couldn't count on having greater stamina and forcing Neji to expend his chakra defensively like Naruto had.

But then, Lee wanted to prove he could be a splendid ninja with only taijutsu. So he was going to use taijutsu to prove it.

And despite how spectacular the fight was, I yawned and let my eyes slip closed. The sounds of combat were a strange lullaby, backed by the noises of the crowd. I drifted, not quite asleep, but brain transposing the sounds into pictures, pulling scenarios and locations out of memories and then stringing them together in a way that seemed perfectly logical. I was watching a game on TV and the crowd was cheering, and all the competitors were Lee except for one who was Neji and all the Lee's kept ganging up on him, except they were supposed to be on his team but no one seemed to notice, except I was outside and the wind kept blowing in my face and then it was summer and it kept getting hotter and hotter and everything became a desert-

I woke, utterly disorientated, headache raging and mouth dry.

"It's too hot," I complained, trying to shove the jacket off. Heat was trapped in my skin, trying to radiate away. It needed to go away.

Sasuke's fingers were cool against my forehead. "Fever," he said, glancing up and away, to someone else. "Is that normal?"

"For soldier pill crash, yeah," Kiba said. "Because of the shivering, you see? You think you're cold, so you shiver, then you're too hot…"

"Have some water," Ino suggested kindly, giving me a canteen.

I took a sip. It was nice and cool. Then I splashed it onto hand and wiped it across my face. That was even better. I shimmied out of clothing until I was down to my singlet, reapplying cold water to my forehead and the back of my neck.

Soldier pills are the worst, I decided. This hadn't happened any other time I'd taken them. Then again, I'd never taken so many at once, either.

"Maybe this will help," Haku said.

I looked up. I hadn't even noticed him coming closer. He drew a circle in the air with his hands, ice crystalizing in the gaps between his fingers, starting thin and growing slightly thicker and wider on the other side, almost to a triangle point. Ino watched, mildly wary, but Sasuke didn't so much as tense up beside me.

He passed it over. I put it on, the thin side sitting easily on my hair, the thicker side against my forehead. It melted easily against my fevered skin, dripping cool water down my face. "You're the best," I said, eyes sliding shut. "A plus use of a blood limit in a non-combat setting. Gold star."

Then I blinked them back open, realizing what was missing. "Who won?" The between-fight entertainment was moving about below, and there was no sign of the two competitors. I'd slept right through the end of the match.

"Hyuuga," Sasuke said. "But barely." He shook his head. "I'm kicking Kiba's ass next. You think you can keep your eyes open for that?"

I propped my chin in my hand and my elbow against my knees. Mostly upright, minimal effort required.

"In your dreams," Kiba scoffed. "You better stay awake to watch me kick his ass. Otherwise you'll never believe it."

They razzed each other all the way down to the field below, right up until the start of the match.

And okay, the match was impressive. But we'd been training together for a week before we'd been sent here. They both knew what was going to happen down on that field, in the most general sense. There were tricks, yes, and twists to the fight from on-the-spot innovations, but they knew each other well and knew what was likely to show up.

And that counted for a lot.

It wasn't a bad fight. It showed a lot of skills. It was exciting. The crowd clearly liked them both. Sasuke won. I didn't want to say 'of course' but… I wasn't surprised, either.

The final fight of the day started at three. It was Haku and Hinata.

It was an interesting matchup. They were both the sweetest of people – the kind that didn't really like to settle things by combat but would if they had to. If they really had to. Steel, beneath the sweetness.

"As the last remaining shinobi from Kirigakure, it is important that I remain in this tournament," Haku said quietly. "For the dreams of our village… so please do not resent me for this."

Hinata gave a slow, shallow nod. She understood fighting for your dreams. She had fought for hers. But there was no fire in her eyes now, not for this match.

He'd taken it out of her, before the fighting had even started. Calculated or sincere, it didn't really matter. It could have even been both, but he'd just tipped the scales in his favour, heavily.

And even if there had been… in the next few minutes I wasn't sure if it would have mattered.

Because Haku had switched tactics. Mostly he'd used speed before, which was how he had fought us all those months ago, backed with his ice jutsu. This time, he spread his hands, finding all the water that had splashed around the field from my fight, soaked into the sand and dirt, and brought it up, using it to create towering walls of ice. Levels and mazes of ice.

I frowned, bringing my fingertips together in front of my mouth.

He didn't need that to fight Hinata.

It worked, of course. Haku was fast, and if she could break his ice with Jyuuken it would take a lot of effort. Naruto had been able to break them, but only with Kyuubi. So it put him out of reach and let him box her in and engage without risking himself.

But he didn't need it. And the chakra cost of a jutsu that size meant that you wouldn't do it just because. Not when you had a fight again tomorrow.

Water trickled down my forehead, the ice cooling my fevered skin.

Oh. Think three moves ahead.

"It's not melting," I said, out loud. The chakra cost of making it might have been huge. But what was the cost of maintaining it? Greater or smaller than the rate you recovered chakra? The water would have dried up by tomorrow – by the day after – but it was here now. Take all advantages while you had them, right?

He didn't need it to fight Hinata. Might not have even needed it to fight Neji, depending on how the fight with Lee had ended. But if you were aiming to fight Gaara – Gaara who had already turned the field into his preferred terrain – then, yes, you would absolutely want to stack every advantage you could.

Three moves ahead.

Clever. But insulting to Hinata, to say he didn't have to focus on fighting her right there and then. That he could think ahead to other matches and start planning for them.

So for us, the day ended on a little bit of a downer. Four of us had lost. One for every match fought today. We only had two still in the game – Sasuke and Neji.

But the mood at dinner wasn't dull. Of those of us that had lost, I was happy. Lee was promising to do better, loudly and at great length. Kiba was giving Sasuke an equal amount of ribbing to what he had before the fight.

"We could go and check out the festival," Ino said, hopefully.

I kind of just wanted to go to sleep. Forever, if possible. But. "Sure," I said. I was a little curious. And how many chances would we get, at something like this. Better to make the most of it while we could.

So those of us who were interested gathered together after dinner and went back out into the town. Asuma and Kurenai were shadowing us, keeping distance and seeming more occupied with each other than anything. Whether they were using the 'date' as an excuse to follow us, or following us as an excuse for the date, I didn't know.

Even though we'd just eaten, there were plenty of street vendors selling food. And souvenirs and festival games and musicians wafting music through the streets. We played a few, frittered away small amounts of money on keepsakes, just a few more faces in the crowd enjoying the night out.

Of course, we had recognizable faces.

"No," I said, for the twelfth time. "I didn't break the Kantokusha Clan jutsu. Or avoid it. I merely had a strategy that allowed me to keep fighting while it was active. No, I can't teach anyone it. No, it's not part of a blood limit. I didn't break it."

Ino gently tugged me away by my elbow, because I was trying to be polite and not just abandon a conversation rudely, no matter how annoying.

"I'm surprised they're more interested in that one than your fight with Gaara," she said.

"They've all been Grass-nin," I said. "I think." Because they'd been ninja, clearly. But not all of them had been wearing easily identifiable headbands or signs, and the only ninja that would probably be allowed to do that at a cross village event were the hosts. Everyone else had to be watched and identified. "I guess it's not surprising that they want to know, when the prison is their big… thing."

If someone had come to Konoha and showed a way to beat Shadow Possession that looked easy and doable, then we would all have been very interested. Rinse and repeat for any other technique or blood limit of your choice. And the prison made it a bigger thing, too, because it was where other villages sent ninja criminals that they didn't want to deal with, but didn't necessarily want to kill, trusting the Blood Prison could keep them locked up nice and tight.

It occurred to me that my match with Muku might have shone a brighter light on me than I'd anticipated.

"Just annoying, right?" Ino agreed. We walked a little faster, to catch up with the rest of the group, who had spread and scattered. There was no need for us to all cling together, but we were all in eyesight.

We ran into Temari and Kankurou near one of the busier streets of town. The crowd seemed to mostly be streaming one way, like there was something going on in that direction.

"You guys going to the theatre, too?" Kankurou asked, seeming reasonably animated. He had a paper program in his hand.

"We weren't intending on it," Ino answered, neutrally. "Is something on?"

"The Imada Puppet Troupe are here," Kankurou replied. "Performing one of Namiki's plays. They're supposed to be really good. Like, 'we only play for Daimyo' really good. You don't want to miss it."

I had a second to reassess, as my world realigned to a new truth being revealed.

Kankurou is a theatre nerd.

It made so much sense. The Sand Puppet Corps were known to infiltrate places in the guise of actual performance teams, but that was window dressing. It didn't explain the face paint or the clothing. They weren't required. He was a highly trained military operative. He was also a major theatre nerd.

I managed to not giggle hysterically.

"That sounds interesting," I said politely. "I've never seen a puppet troupe perform."

He actually gaped. Even Temari raised an eyebrow in mute surprise. "Really?"

I didn't think it was that surprising. I glanced at Ino; she shook her head. "They're not allowed into Konoha," she clarified. "It's considered too high risk, the same as Kabuki actors."

Because Sand Puppet Corps were known to infiltrate in the guise of performers. Obviously.

"That's just sad," Kankurou said. "You can't go five paces in Suna without tripping over kids practicing their puppet jutsu doing street performances."

I had the sudden image of Hidden Sand doing the equivalent of the Academy performances that we did, of tiny children awkwardly marching giant puppets around a stage with loud awkward over acting, to the applause of parental figures. One of those tiny children may have been wearing a floppy cat eared hat, just in my imagination.

Which is how he ended up convincing us we really should go and watch this play. I agreed, because it did sound interesting. So did Ino and Hinata.

"Well, if Hinata's going," Kiba said, not looking enthused but also not willing to split.

Tenten bowed out, though, taking Lee with her. Thankfully. I wasn't sure he was the type that would sit quietly through a long performance. Though maybe that was being unfair. Chouji dithered, but was ultimately more attracted to the idea of festival food than theatre and went with them.

Which meant Asuma and Kurenai split up. Kurenai-sensei gave up the pretense of not being part of the group and just became our adult escort. But as a bonus, she brought the tickets, so none of us complained. Not that her team would have anyway.

Temari didn't come inside with us, though. "I've seen more than enough bunraku," she said. "You can bore someone else with it all this time."

Kankurou made a face at her.

I smiled. Brother and sister. Absolutely.

"It's not boring," he muttered. "Come on, then. We have to get some good seats. You're going to love it."

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A couple of hours later we were swept outside with the rest of the exiting crowd, from the stuffy hot air inside into the crisp night outside.

I wasn't sure I'd say I'd loved it. But it had been interesting. Kankurou had been a wealth of information in the breaks and intermissions, about the puppets and the puppeteers and the story line. But it had been long and complicated and I had been the kind of person who liked my movies to be straightforward and involving car chases and explosions.

No comment.

"So what did you think?" I asked, turning to look at the rest. Only to find that the crowd had swept me away from them. Not far. Only a person, or two away. Barely anything at all. Someone had just pushed between us, that was all. But there were so many people streaming out of the theater that it would be hard to elbow my way against the flow and get back to them. Everyone was chattering in excitement, and I awkwardly squeezed past a couple to try and meet up with the others again.

And then a hand clamped over my face.

Not a hand. A cloth. Covered in something sickly sweet and chemical.

Another arm wrapped around me, lifting and bundling me away.

My head swam, immediately. I tried to hold my breath, but it was too late. I wasted a second squirming, tried to stomp on feet and elbow them, but my motions had no force. My muscles were gone, weakened, useless. I tried to grab my chakra, what was left of it, tried to use my shadows, but it was like trying to hold water. I might have started but it was gone before there was any effect.

My lungs protested. They wanted air. My eyes were blurring, ears ringing. My heart was pounding, a startled, irregular rhythm.

I twisted. One hand, almost too heavy to lift, reached up and pushed against his chin. The weakest of protests. There was no force behind it.

I focused, the last of my concentration narrowed down to one pinpoint.

And then I had to breathe, and I was gone.