Off and Running

[Kakashi Hatake]

The trek across the blank backdrop of the Nexus had proved to be somewhat longer than anticipated. The silver-haired shinobi had been plodding along at a lazy pace, hands in his pockets as his eyes continuously scanning the horizon for signs of imminent threat. Kakashi would estimate that it had been an hour or so since his awakening at the base of the fountain, though he was in no hurry. If he truly was in another land, he didn’t exactly have any appointments to keep. With no signs of life to be seen in any direction, the shinobi had slowly relaxed into his usual lackadaisical rhythm.

If this is actually a genjutsu, whoever casted it gets no points for originality…

The scarecrow harkened back to his ‘dream’ (if one could call it that), trying to recount what the voice had told him. Another world, separate from his, dubbed the Omniverse; named after the supposed deity of the realm, Omni, who had selected to become part of his world. The leaf ninja was not one to just accept such a notion, especially bearing in mind his prior encounters with illusion-casters and tricksters. In his line of work, attacks on the psyche were as common as pig shit to a farmhand. Still, a few nagging details clattered around in his mind: the ‘illusion’ had overpowered his flawless chakra control and his seemingly faultless dojutsu. With no better ideas, the lanky shinobi continued along his invisible path.

Presently, Hatake took note of a figure along the horizon. What had been a mere speck moments ago seemed to be, at least from this distance, some sort of archway? Though he was not sure what he was now approaching, the silhouette was a welcome change from the otherwise featureless abyss. Not since the fountain had he seen much of anything in this place; with renewed vigor the scarecrow quickly closed in on the shape, dashing at full speed. When finally reached the gate he gave pause, examining it closely. At a glance it looked to be a mossy stone archway alone in the whiteness, leading to nowhere. Kakashi stepped around the structure, noting its apparent lack of connection to anything material. It seemed to be completely ordinary, or as ordinary as a stone archway overgrown with vegetation could be in the middle of an infinite purgatory. That was, save for the fact that the area enclosed by the stone bricks seemed to shimmer and ripple, as if a pond had been turned on its side.

“Some kind of…portal?” the silver-maned shinobi muttered, running his gloved hand along the rough stone. He quickly pulled a shuriken from his belt, took a step back and tossed it gently into the archway. The membrane rippled as the metal star met its surface, the weapon disappearing before his eyes. The leaf ninja exhaled sharply through his nose. “Looks like I’ve got no choice,” he sighed, stepping through the portal.

- - -

As the ANBU crossed the dimensional threshold, familiar sounds met his ears. He blinked hard a few times, clearing the blurriness that apparently came with interdimensional travel. Cool air met his skin as the scene slid back into focus. He appeared to be in a dense forest, the lush canopy some 3 stories above his head. The sturdy trees that supported the leafy ceiling stood just feet apart, each vying for the sunlight that now managed to only vaguely peek through their foliage. For a moment the lanky ninja wondered if he had broken the illusion or returned home, whichever the case may be. After a moment of inspection he dismissed this notion, citing differences in the flora that surrounded him; they were not of any kind that he found familiar. He sighed, gazing up at the towering arboreal colossi huddled around him. The likelihood of this being some intricate illusion was rapidly dwindling.

“Well, at least I’m familiar with forests…” the leaf shinobi stated, addressing no one.

As these words crossed his lips he heard the sound of crashing limbs coming from the east. At once he was behind the nearest trunk, obscuring his slender form from view. As the sound grew near he began to feel a familiar pickling on the back of his neck; he could sense a pair of chakra signatures nearing his location. The ANBU captain drew a handful of shuriken from his belt pouch, a smile spreading across his face. He had found the illusion casters at last.

“Hurry up, slowpoke!”

“Shut up! You got a head start!”

The scarecrow’s heart sank as the voices grew nearer. A few moments later his fears were confirmed as a duo of children, not more than 8 years old ran past, laughing merrily as they passed. Kakashi narrowed his eyes at the boys, his sharingan focusing on the duo. Aside from their minute chakra signatures, he could sense nothing suspect. Cursing to himself, he leapt from cover, giving chase to the boys. He would find out where he was one way or another.

[Kakashi Hatake]

The ANBU captain dashed quickly through the dense wood, easily keeping pace with his targets. He hung back a short distance, keeping himself obscured from view lest the boys catch sight of their pursuer. This, however, did not seem to be terribly necessary as the children were too busy merrymaking to pay much attention to their surroundings.

“Man, you take forever!”

“I’ll show you!”

As the silver-haired shinobi followed the boys farther away from the portal, he mentally projected his chakra senses around the perimeter in an attempt to sniff out any others in the vicinity. The leaf ninja could make out no other presences for at least a mile in any direction. He began to wonder how far these children had ventured from their home. No sooner had he finished this thought than he began to sense another chakra signature; this one much more intimidating. The ANBU captain ducked behind the nearest tree as the boys stopped in their tracks.

“Get lost, boys?” a deep, mellow voice inquired. The voice was firm, through friendly. Kakashi was reminded of the way a father would chide his sons. Somehow, it seemed familiar.

The boys chuckled. “Naw, we were just training in the woods and lost track of time.”

“Training is fine, but you really should be careful,” the sharingan wielder could hear a smile in the man’s voice. “Anything can happen in these woods. Plenty of orcs and goblins that would love a quick meal.”

“We’re not worried Mister Asuma. We could defeat anything they could throw at us!”

The scarecrow’s ears perked at the child’s address. He slowly craned his neck around the bough of the tree, squinting through the foliage to catch sight of the man. Unfortunately, the abundant flora obscured his view.

“I bet,” the elder replied, his voice suddenly stern. “Now you boys head back to the village. I’ll follow you shortly. I’ve got something to take care of.”

“You got it, Mister Asuma!” The boys answered in unison before taking off through the forest.

Kakashi noted the sound of heavy footsteps slowly approaching as the childish laughter faded into the foliage. He could feel his heartbeat increasing as the steps drew nearer. In a place like this, could have really found a comrade? The voice, the demeanor, the name, could this truly be him?

“Now, I’m going to give you a choice,” Asuma called, a firm confidence evident in his voice. “I don’t take too kindly to beasts threatening the safety of my students. Nonetheless, I’d like to avoid a fight if I can. So, your choice: You can try your luck with my blades, or you can turn your tail and run.”

The scarecrow smirked as he stepped from behind his cover, raising his hands in a gesture of submission. “I think you’ll find that this beast has no intention of fighting you.”

“K-Kakashi Hatake?!” the olive-skinned shinobi stammered, lowering his bladed fists. A half-spent cigarette hung limp from his bottom lip. His dark brown eyes blinked incredulously.

“Asuma Sarutobi,” The ANBU captain responded, lowering his hands and slipping them casually into his trouser pockets. “I’m glad to see a familiar face.”

The bearded shinobi shook his head, chuckling heartily. He pocketed his trench knives, swapping them out for a small silver lighter from a pouch on his belt. “I’d say the same, but you being here means that you’ve suffered the same fate as me.”

Kakashi’s smile faded. “So…this isn’t some illusion.”

Sarutobi shook his head soberly in response, puffing on his cancer stick. “I’m afraid not. I can’t say that I really know where ‘here’ is, but I can tell you that we’re as far as we could possibly be from Konoha.”

The silver-haired shinobi sighed. The doubt that he had been carrying had been all but confirmed; he had somehow found himself in a whole other world entirely. He was separated by time and space from the village he had called home, from his peers and the few friends (save for Asuma, it seemed) he had had.

“Yep,” Asuma uttered, taking a long drag on his cigarette. “And here we are. It’s going to take a while to get your head around it. We should head back to the village, though. The Morikage can explain things a little better than a Secondary like me can.”

“Morikage?” Hatake inquired, striding toward his comrade.

“Yep. Seemed like a fitting title for her. She’s the First, just like her grandfather. Kinda funny how things work sometimes.”

“Lord Hashirama’s granddaughter?!” Kakashi nearly shouted.

Sarutobi turned toward the direction the children had gone. “We could have done a lot worse for ourselves,” He said with a smirk. “The First Morikage: Tsunade, of the Legendary Sannin.”

[Kakashi Hatake]

As the shinobi duo strode through the moss-covered archway into Mokugakure, the newcomer took stock of the Hidden Village. He felt a slight familiarity in the air as he noted the wall that encircled the village, though the one he now spied was not composed of stone as was the case in Konohagakure. It seemed that the inhabitants of this village had worked some magic, the ramparts being composed entirely of trees grown side-by-side. They had grown so close together, in fact, that the boughs touched and their respective canopies intermingled into a ‘shelf’ of leaves that topped the wall on all sides. Kakashi marveled at the structure, wondering if perhaps Tsunade had inherited her grandfather’s coveted Wood Release.

“Kinda reminds you of home, huh?” Asuma muttered, dropping his spent cigarette and extinguishing it with a twist of his heel.

The scarecrow nodded vaguely, glancing around at the inhabitants as they followed the dirt path deeper into the village. Though the overall vibe of the village was reminiscent of the Hidden Leaf, the citizens were quite different. Kakashi thought a handful of the faces he saw looked familiar, but a great many were different than any he had ever seen. Some stood just a few feet tall, some towered over the Prime. Some bore skin of a similar complexion to his own pale visage and some had flesh as black as the night sky, still others bore every shade in between. The shinobi thought that a fair few seemed to not even be entirely human. It seemed that this Hidden Village was a bastion for anyone who needed a home.

“We get a lot of different folk here,” the Sarutobi clansman spoke, gesturing at the varied inhabitants as they passed. “You’re not the first to stumble through that portal from the Nexus. We take anyone in who needs shelter.”

“Shelter?” Kakashi parroted. From what, he wondered.

“There’s a conflict between realms going on,” the olive-skinned shinobi replied. “We’re sorta caught in the middle, hired hands that fight for whoever can cough up the dough. The rampant orcs and goblins don’t make things any easier either.”

The silver-haired warrior nodded, all too familiar with the way of the shinobi. Ninja would forever be tools of war, it seemed.

Sarutobi lead the way through the village toward a somewhat larger building situated near the center. Surely the Morikage’s dwelling, the Anbu surmised. As the duo neared the building, Kakashi caught sight of a few villagers staring in his direction; their gazes seemed to him to be a mixture of fear and awe. He ignored the glances, unsure of what to make of their apprehension.

“Some of us came from Konoha. It’s likely that some here know of you.” Asuma offered, smirking.

Hatake frowned at the thought. One would ordinarily be happy to be among his peers in such an odd place, but he could not help but feel anxious under their scrutiny. Depending on who was asked, some saw Kakashi as a hero, a brave warrior. Most, however, knew him as a murderer. The moniker “Friend-Killer Kakashi” had followed him for years; it had even followed him here, it would seem. Perhaps even Asuma saw him as the butcher he knew himself to be.

“I’d like audience with Lady Morikage if that’s alright,” the smooth-talking Sarutobi stated to the pair of warriors standing sentry at the building’s entryway. They wore masks similar to Kakashi’s Anbu mask, though somewhat more menacing. The pair parted wordlessly, allowing entry.

“Security seems a little higher here.” Kakashi stated, his usual dull tone echoing in the stairway.

“Well, we are at war,” Asuma responded, not making eye-contact. “Here we are.”

The pair faced a large set of double-doors, unadorned, and hewn from sturdy oak. A pair of bronze knobs sat front-and-center. Presently the bearded ninja raised a fist, knocking loudly on the large doors. “Enter,” came the reply, the voice strong and female.

“Lady First,” Sarutobi announced as the doors swung open. “I have someone I think you’ll be happy to see.”

Lady Tsunade Senju sat at the far end of the room facing the door, her back to a large picture window. Her long, blonde hair has styled in a pair of braids that fell down her back over her trademark green kimono. Her face was hidden, buried in a sea of paper. Before her was a desk completely obscured with dozens of different dossiers, reports and other documents arranged haphazardly in piles of varying sizes. “What is it, Asuma?” she inquired, not looking up from her work. “I’m behind on my paperwork. I never realized how much I relied on Shizune.”

“Kakashi Hatake, my Lady,” the scarecrow piped in, bowing. Asuma followed suit.

The kunoichi’s gaze shot up, focusing on her curtsying comrades. “So it is.” Tsunade replied, resting her elbow on her desk. She dropped her chin to her fist, taking a ‘thinking man’s pose’.

“Uh, forgive me Lady First, but shouldn't you be a little more...surprised?” the dark-haired ninja inquired.

“Not really. Not a lot surprises me these days. I can’t say that I’m happy for you, having wound up here.”

Kakashi raised his head, eyeing the Morikage. “This Omniverse...can you fill me in?”

“Pull up a chair,” Tsunade replied, gesturing to a stool near the door. “And Asuma, grab us some sake. I’m too far behind on these reports to catch up anyway.”

[Kakashi Hatake]

“And that’s all I really know,” the Morikage stated flatly, throwing back the rest of her drink. She placed her choko glass delicately on the table beside the now-empty porcelain tokkuri. Her cheeks had taken on a ruddy hue, the village leader having finished off most of the alcohol herself.

The silver-haired shinobi remained silent, mulling over the information. It seemed she did not know much more about where they were than he did. He shot a glance to his left at Asuma as if to confirm; the bearded shinobi nodded sagely, sipping the last of his sake.

“Kakashi…” Tsunade spoke, her eyes narrowing at the Anbu captain. “Judging by your appearance and demeanor; you don’t know me, do you?”

The scarecrow cocked an eyebrow at the kunoichi. “Of course I know you. You’re a student of Lord Third, the Slug Princess, one of the Sannin.”

The blonde ninja shook her head, smiling. “Not quite what I meant, though I suppose it does confirm my suspicions.” Her words did little but confuse her new subordinate. “I guess it doesn’t matter in the end,” she continued, “this Omniverse is not our Shinobi World and this village is not Konoha. That said, these eyes have seen too much war, pain and suffering, but they have also seen hope. It’s with this hope and abhorrence for suffering that I have taken up the mantle of Morikage in this forest.”

Kakashi gave a small nod in reply. Tsunade was likely the only person in this realm that could serve as any sort of leader for the many refugees that wound up there. She seemed to have had a change of heart toward authority and the position of Kage since her departure from the village all those years ago. He wondered what could have possibly changed the mind of such a stubborn woman.

“The reason that I say all of this,” the Senju heir sighed, removing the stoneware from her desk and placing it back into the case from which she had taken it. “is that I cannot expect you to see this village as you did the Hidden Leaf. Though we have done our best to pay homage to our home, it cannot be a stand-in.” She smiled again, drunkenness clouding her otherwise sharp gaze. “Basically, this is my long-winded way of saying it would be an honor to have you among our ranks, but that is a decision for you to make.”

The Anbu captain nodded, his gaze falling to the cluttered desk. He had surely pondered the thought, that this village reminded him of his old home. This, though, was not a boon in the eyes of the scarecrow. Long had he loathed the suspicious gazes of the townsfolk when he passed, judging his sins in whispers. The paths he walked through Konoha reminded him of his past, the war monuments and gravestones dredging up painful memories of his misdeeds almost daily. He had grown up in Konoha, living his entire life for the sake of the village. He had also bore their fear and ire even as he put his life on the line for them. It wasn’t as if he could blame them, but logic did nothing to numb emotion.

“Listen, Kakash-” the chain-smoking Sarutobi began before being cut short by a shrill cry from the village below; the sound of a woman screaming.

The shinobi trio turned their focus instantly out the large window and toward the village gate. Kakashi’s eyes focused on a group of figures emerging from the darkness, rising to his feet just in time to see a group of monstrous-looking humanoids shamble through the archway into the village proper. The group numbered around a dozen, scampering in and brandishing crudely made iron weapons. Scaly grey skin stretched over their sinewy forms, scraggly black hair crowning their heads. They wore meager armor, not more than scraps of salvaged clothing from the looks of it.

“Orcs!” Sarutobi shouted, getting to his feet fast enough to cast the chair he was sitting in tumbling across the room. “They must have followed us to the gate and waited until we dropped our guard.”

Kakashi nodded, moving quickly to the window. Without a glance back at his comrades, he flung himself out the porthole, somersaulting toward the ground below. Seconds later he touched down, rolling roughly as his feet met dirt to avoid injury. His ears caught a pair of thuds behind him as the bearded shinobi and the Slug Princess met the earth.

“We’ve got to get everyone inside. These things are cannibals, I’m not letting anyone become a meal,” Tsunade snarled, now completely sober in the face of danger.

“I’m on it,” Asuma responded, pulling his chakra blades from a pouch on his belt. “Leave it to me.”

The silver-haired shinobi dashed toward the newcomers, right hand reaching over his shoulder and drawing his tanto. His left hand followed suit, pulling a handful of shuriken from his belt. He furrowed his brow as his keen eyes quickly searched the area, his chakra pooling around his sharingan eye. The dojutsu locked onto his targets, focusing now on a small group of cackling assailants farthest from the gate. The scarecrow’s calculating mind raced, tallying up his odds for a few seconds before he sprang toward the closest orc, hurling the fist-blades. The projectiles found their mark, digging into the tough flesh of the invading monster. The beast cried out, enraged by bite of the shinobi’s tools. This would prove to be the last noise he would make, as the scarecrow’s dagger met the soft flesh of his foe’s throat.

Having dispatched the goblin, the Anbu captain turned his gaze back toward his comrades. Kakashi watched in awe as the Kage’s fist slammed into an enemy shield, tearing through both it and the torso it was built to protect. With a roar, the Princess of the forest lifted the mongrel from the earth, shield and all, and flung his bleeding corpse from her arm onto a group of his kin. Its body landed with a sickening crunch against the body of another, sending the pair rocketing through the gate and back into the forest. “AND STAY OUT,” she called, shaking the black ichor from her pale flesh. With a snarl, she leapt toward another invader.

Hatake smiled at the ferocity of his elder, turning his eyes back in time to see an orc fist collide with his face. The captain curse audibly, staggering backward a few feet as the creature cackled with glee. He shook his head slowly at the beast before lunging forward, burying the blade to the hilt in the orc’s stomach. With a flick of his wrist he wrenched his blade upward, spilling the guts of the poor beast. “I’m having none of that. Not today.”

“Kakashi, watch it!” Asuma called from behind him. He needn’t of, though. The silver-haired shinobi could see for himself the cause for concern.

A new foe swaggered into the village, his skin caked with dirt and what appeared to be blood. Upon his face was white warpaint in the shape of a handprint. He stood a good 3 feet taller than his surrounding kin, his hair long and tied back into a loose ponytail. His sculpted arms hefted a formidable-looking sword, not dissimilar to an enormous cleaver. His decaying teeth came together in a grin equally disgusting and intimidating. “ORCS. KILL.” the being barked, gesturing toward Tsunade with his cleaver-blade.

The captain’s eyes locked on the ringleader. His hands moved frantically, rapidly forming seal after seal before stopping abruptly, completing the sequence. Kakashi bent at the knees, his right hand dropping toward the ground, fingers wrapping around an invisible orb. His left hand gripped his wrist tightly as he concentrated his chakra, willing the spiritual energy to become tangible. “Rai-” the shinobi began.

As the electricity began to crackle at his fingertips, the scarecrow felt a familiar pang at the base of his skull. He immediately dropped his stance, the electricity ceasing. Out of chakra? The shinobi cursed his luck, instead opting to return the tanto to his grasp. With a snarl he dashed forward, slaughter in his eyes. Before he could reach the monstrosity he stopped short, his view obstructed by a familiar silhouette.

“I said watch it!” Asuma insisted, holding the scarecrow back as Tsunade entered view.

The Kage tore toward the Uruk Hai, fists clenched in rage. “How DARE you attack my village?” The hulk raised his sword to defend, only to have it snap in two as the warrior Princess’ fist met steel. Without missing a beat the kunoichi planted her other fist in the beast’s gut, sending him careening backward. A moment later she was upon him, her petite foot crushing the beast’s windpipe with enough force to cause a small tremor.

“THAT was what I was referring to,” Asuma said, gesturing toward the raging Morikage.

The invading goblins gaped for a moment at the sight of the fallen leader before screeching in fear and scrambling toward the gate. “Hey! You forgot something!” Tsunade called, hurling the corpses of the orcs one by one after the escaping beasts.

- - -

“Impressive as always, Lady Morikage.” the olive-skinned shinobi stated, lighting up a cigarette.

“Shut up Asuma.” Tsunade replied with a chuckle.

Kakashi glanced around, surveying the damage. A few broken windows and some chunks missing from the dirt road were the only signs visible of the attack. Overall, the village had managed to avoid major tragedy thanks to their fearless leader. The scarecrow brought his hand up, examining it closely. His Lightning Cutter had failed him; had Tsunade not been there, he could have put the village in grave danger. How he had so little chakra in this Omniverse? It seemed he would require some training before he would be able to fight at full strength.

“Kakashi…?” the calming voice of the Kage inquired.

“I can see why you might need an extra set of hands.” The silver-haired shinobi replied, locking eyes with the Kage. “I can’t promise it will be long, but for now I’ll lend a hand. I don't know how useful I'll be, though. My chakra seems pretty low.”

Asuma chuckled, laying a hang on his friend's shoulder. “It'll improve with time."

Tsunade nodded. "As for sticking around," she began, smiling warmly at the Anbu. "I'm glad to hear it.”

[Kakashi Hatake]

Following the scuffle with the platoon of grimy invaders, peace had settled uneasily over the forest village. The inhabitants had settled back into their loose routines, some taking initiative in repairing the damage caused by the interruption. Most simply bowed their heads, seemingly used to the idea that they might die at any moment. What puzzled Kakashi was not this recognition of the constant strife, but their apparent ambivalence toward it. Any rational person would, he assumed, show some sort of fear or anxiety. This seemed not to be the case in Mokugakure.

“They’re not numb to fear,” Asuma muttered, chewing on a wad of dumpling. “They’ve just become used to it. They know that they have things to get done and the threat of war can’t keep them tied up forever. We were too young to deal with this during the Third War, but I think this is what constant strife does to people.”

Kakashi nodded thoughtfully at the words of his masticating companion, his own food remaining untouched. The shinobi duo sat across from one another at a rustic dining table outside one of the town’s few restaurants. The food was reminiscent of the cuisine common in Konoha, though not quite as well-crafted.

“That and we have the wrecking ball that is Lady Tsunade,” the olive-skinned Jonin chortled. He paused for a moment, gazing across the table at the silver-haired shinobi. “You know, if you want to replenish your chakra, you ought to eat that,” he finished, gesturing to Kakashi’s meal.

“You’re probably right,” the copy ninja responded, taking a bite of his dumpling. He glanced over at their cook as he chewed, the shinobi’s calm gaze meeting one of anxiety and suspicion. That look again.

“Look, Kakashi,” Sarutobi muttered, turning away from the cook’s visual accusation. “I know you haven’t had the best go of things, but look on the bright side: a lot of us have taken this Omniverse as a second chance. Maybe you ought to forgive yourself already?”

The scarecrow’s keen eyes snapped forward, locking on Asuma’s. “It’s not something I can just forgive,” he replied harshly. When he closed his eyes, he could still see her face, pulled tight as her mouth gaped in a silent scream. Her fair skin seemed to darken to an ashy gray as the blood drained and life left her beautiful eyes. When the nightmares awoke him in the wee-hours, he would swear he still saw the blood, staining his hand as if his skin had drank in the ichor. No, the murderer did not deserve forgiveness. He had broken his promise to Obito, slaying the woman they both loved.

The bearded ninja eyed the Anbu for a moment, a heavy silence blanketing the duo. “Yeah,” he finally said, dropping his now unladen kebab.

The two shinobi sat in silence as the captain finished his cuisine, doing his best to avoid the stares of passers-by and the accusative cook. He glanced up at Asuma finally, dropping his skewer. “So, what’s to do here?”

“Well,” his companion responded, lighting up a cigarette. “We’re not as well established as Konoha is. We more or less do mercenary work for whoever pays. Hell, we’ve even met some of our own in the field that were contracted by the opposite side. It’s never pretty, but we have to go where the money goes. And since we get paid either way, it can get messy in the field.”

“Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.” Kakashi replied nodding solemnly.

“Yeah, I’d like to think there’s a peace in knowing you’re dying at the hands of brethren so that the village may survive. Still, though,” Sarutobi muttered, taking a long drag on his cigarette. “Never sits well with me. I always pray it’s orcs that need killing. But-”

Asuma stopped short as an unfamiliar head popped up over his comrade’s shoulder. A boy, likely no older than sixteen, stood over the seated duo, anxiety etched in his face. He wore thick glasses, shaggy brown hair nearly obscuring his obviously already poor vision. “Mister Sarutobi,” he began, smiling meekly. “Forgive the interruption, but Lady Morikage would like to see you and Mister Hatake.” He rattled off the sentence in a hurry, ending with a tremendous sigh as if it had taken him a great deal of effort to remember those few words.

The chain-smoking shinobi smiled, nodding at the boy. “Well,” he began, turning his gaze back to Kakashi, “Seems like snack time is over.”