Categories > Anime/Manga > Naruto > Kyuubi Chronicles, First Scroll
"All my life, I've been treated like I was some kind of monster. Like my very presence would somehow pollute whoever as much as talked to me."
Eyes, icy blue one moment, seeming to shift into a shade of equally icy purple as shadows dance in the shifting light the next, travel from one face to another, to another, to another, without as much as a hitch.
"Well, congratulations, you geriatric old farts."
He grins.
"You wastes of space went out of your way to make me one."
Not a nice grin.
"You've noone to blame but yourselves if I decide to ... oblige you."
One might even say that it's quite nasty. And that it has a lot of teeth.
---
Den of foxes
fourth in the Kyuubi Chronicles line of stories.
by Griever
disclaimer: the standard Spiel applies. I reserve the right to fold, spindle, and mutilate canon as I'm not getting a broken dime for this.
---
Rain falls.
Oh, sun shines at times. Other times, the sky is cloudy. Neither of which seems to have any influence at all on the fact that, yes, water is falling from the sky, and yes, it isn't looking like it will stop anytime soon.
It seems appropriate.
And he doesn't really care, one way or another.
He likes the rain, which is a bit of a contradiction, all things considered. Embodiment of fire and all.
Just as well. He's had to be out in it for a while now.
Well, not strictly 'had' ...
The gaki would have, so ... he felt a sort of obligation. Grudging, yes, but it was there.
He doesn't really feel anything in regard to what's happening, other than the usual desire to rip the throats out of a few mutts ... that would be bad manners, though. They're keeping away, in any case.
Then the speech is over, and he turns away. Walks away.
He's never been one for sentiment towards those who've actually been useful to him, or those who'd been more than just tools ... he isn't about to stay behind and brood about somebody he hardly knew or cared to know for any longer than 'pro forma' behavior requires.
Funerals ...
... such novel, useless little bits of idleness these ape-rats come up with when they have time on their hands.
The faint sensation of indignant chakra and a subsonic buzz reach him, from a distance. He ignores them.
He's paid his 'dues', and more besides. It's a lot more than he expects he'll ever get, if the time comes.
Let them bristle and be upset.
He's never been all that fond of dogs, one way or the other. Filthy mongrels.
Enough of a favor and catering to these fools that he's wearing black, as pretty much the whole damn Village is.
Behind him, the funeral service for Inuzuka Kiba concludes.
By the time it's done, he's already elsewhere.
As is the case in the wake of any and all major upsets, there is work to do.
*
Coincidences are not.
She knows this as surely as she knows her own name and stock in trade. A coincidence is the first thing you look at.
It is neither pretty business, nor is it one she'd have chosen to attend, if given the choice in the first place.
"Death of subject occurred due to rapid chakra depletion, coupled with accelerated cellular degeneration due to the body's induced attempt to replenish its stores," she says, dictating to the recording device.
Otherwise, the room is still, and cold.
In the sublevel of the Hokage tower, right next to the old morgue that was in use back when there _was_ no Konoha Medical Service.
No windows. Walls of roughly hewn stone, with icy blue seals covering them and keeping temperature just on the edge above freezing.
"The process was likely instigated through outside influence, and led to a rapid degeneration of both endo- and epidermis, making identification through those highly unlikely, or even impossible," her hand reached for a short, slender length of metal.
Shizune doesn't like this particular facet of her chosen profession one bit, but she's here for the simple reason that her shishou, who is likely the only more experienced medical nin in the village, has other duties she needs to attend.
The razor edge of the scalpel glints in the cold, artificial white light.
A short, precise incision.
"Muscle tissue in subject is nearly non-existent. Initial evaluation of bodily fluid levels has them only at 5% of baseline values. Retrieving samples of both for pending analysis."
A hermetically sealed container and vial.
Ker-click
"Nervous system shows a similar degree of degradation, barring some areas of the lower spine which ..."
Eyes widen.
Coincidences are not.
The recording device is disabled with a hasty press of a button as the medic nin further examines her findings, growing more and more grim by the minute.
*
"What is the meaning of this?"
Calm.
Unflappable.
He makes for an imposing figure, the image only accentuated by the missing arm and eye.
Hatake Kakashi isn't intimidated in the least. Few things get to have that effect on the Copy Nin these days, which, he reflects, may be a bit of a liability in some cases ... before brushing those concerns off.
It's not everyday you get to live through a massacre twice. Certainly not one where the massacred are the same both times. Well, more or less the same. And it's not everyday that you're sent to arrest a Council member, and head of an ANBU division, decommissioned though it may be.
He doesn't say or do anything, there and then, though. Just stands, and tries not to look at the Godaime, and does most definitely not reach for his Icha Icha. Because she's f*cking scary when she's really, really bloody furious.
Emphasis on the bloody part, ne?
That intimidates Kakashi quite a bit.
"ANBU Training Division, codename 'Root', operative #052," Godaime Hokage says icily, leafing through a folder. "Infiltration and extermination specialist."
Hands slam the folder shut with a sound akin to a thunderclap, accentuated by the rain still falling outside.
"Listed as Missing In Action. Well," Kakashi can see the muscles on the back of his 'prisoner's' neck twitch. "You'll be happy to know that he's been found. Dead, unfortunately. Also, as _luck_ would have it, within the room Uchiha Sasuke _had_ been kept prior to the unfortunate events of two nights past."
She brings a fist down on the desk she sits behind, sending cracks along the extra hardened wood's surface.
"How very unfortunate for you, Danzo-san. You seem to be getting careless in your old age, _misplacing_ subordinates ... or should that be former subordinates, since I seem to remember Sandaime-sama removing your 'organization' from the official charter? Quite a few of them, in fact, seem to be listed as Missing. All but those I've noticed happen to be listed as dead, as luck would have it."
"An interesting ... theory, Tsunade-sama," the man replies stiffly.
"Theory. Yes, quite. In theory, you cannot be held accountable for this supreme display of incompetence. How very regretful. Don't worry, though. It's been, handled ..."
The scroll impacts Danzo's chest with a firm thump, and his one arm reflexively grabs it.
Unrolls it.
His eye goes wide for just a moment.
"T-this is ... you _can't_ possibly justify this course of action, Tsunade-sama!"
"I assure you, Councilman, it is well within my power to do so, especially given the current state of emergency," and Tsunade smirks. "I am forced to conclude Konoha forces, an entire _division_ as it were, have in fact been subverted by the enemy. There have been no reports lodged, no regular status updates sent, no mission balance drawn ... so I have found myself contemplating the prospect of declaring your 'missing' former subordinates as, case in point, Missing-nin."
Kakashi remains as silent and still as a statue, bolted to the floor, as the tension in the room suddenly skyrockets.
"Unless of course, you have a ... suggestion, as to how this matter can be dealt with otherwise," her voice is suddenly all sweetness and light and razor-sharp edges. "Danzo-kun? I'm waiting."
*
Not difficult.
Not difficult at all.
Just a short walk, a brief stroll, a momentary meandering just underneath everyone's threshold of notice.
A somewhat welcome diversion, since it's been a while since she's done light duty.
And as much as battle got her blood pumping, she wasn't one to say no to simple assignments. Even if they were only halfway official.
The medic nin didn't even notice her on the way past.
Were they to be confronted with one-another's attitudes, though, they'd find them to be startlingly similar in some cases.
In one case in particular.
Mitarashi Anko was also one to believe that coincidences were not.
Now she had a bit of work to do in proving it.
*
Toss.
She eyes the tsuba.
Grab.
Plain black and unadorned. Round, with a single rectangular slit in the center. Just the right size.
Toss.
The leaves of the tree she sits below shudder with raindrop upon raindrop of impact, but let little to nothing through.
Grab.
She should be in bed, or still in the hospital, really ... but nobody notices, in the still enduring chaos that started off on 'that' night, one missing non-critical patient.
Toss.
There were no complications.
Grab.
But things lost can't always be returned.
The tsuba travels across her knuckles, dexterous fingers flipping it as if it were a coin.
The tree above shakes for a moment, drawing her attention upwards.
There is a single leaf, twisting and turning through the air, fluttering to the ground in spirals that she sees will lead it right past her.
And she waits, turning slightly to the side ...
And she moves, hand flashing outwards.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Firmly on her blind-side, the leaf rests between her index and middle fingers.
She sighs.
Produces two lengths of silk thong and threads each through the slit of the tsuba.
Plain black, unadorned, and just the right size.
Resting across where her right eye used to be.
The tree shakes yet again, and a flurry of leaves is dislodged.
Tenten moves, and kunai flash through the air, piercing their targets dead-center.
*
Dead.
It's even in the air here, lingering despite the incessant rain that's washing away everything else.
He doesn't mind, really.
Walking trough the Uchiha sector, Kyuubi does something he hasn't had a chance to in a while.
He contemplates.
The irony of this situation is not lost on him either.
Kusanagi-no-tsurugi and the Hebi-yarou. Hebi-yarou and the Sharingan. Ame-no-Murakumo.
He snickers.
Time tends to move in circles, he knows, and oddly symmetrical ones at that. Much amusement can be derived from just how twisted these little bits of chance turn out to be.
"Well?"
His annoying ANBU shadow hasn't been present since that little bit of bloodshed extravaganza, but he's back now.
"Uzumaki-san," at least he knows how to be polite. There's a lot to be said for politeness. It even makes people wanting to kill you more bearable.
Of course, that only amounts to his not bothering to kill them in new and inventive ways.
"The Council requires your presence."
Ah, so that's it. Still ...
"Requires, as in asks. Or requires, as in they want me there in shackles?"
His voice drips contempt.
"The latter, I'm afraid, Uzumaki-san."
"You're supposed to bring me in, are you?"
"I would rather it not come to that, Uzumaki-san."
"Wise decision," Kyuubi barely manages to stop himself from grinning. "Well, lead on, then. Musn't keep them waiting, now."
*
It's nobody's fault but her own.
Those tears she cries.
Those regrets she holds.
Red flowers against black marble. A simple plaque. Two names.
In the world of shinobi, words are lethal weapons.
At first, she blamed him.
At first, she blamed everyone.
It took looking into a mirror, and seeing the realization lurking in the depths of her own eyes, to make her accept that this ...
Beloved wife and mother.
... is ultimately ...
Beloved husband and father.
... her fault.
Promise me, Naruto! Promise to bring him back!
It's on that rain-filled, solemn afternoon that Haruno Sakura realizes what it truly means to be ninja.
Please, wake up. It's finally over, so please wake up. Now that you can finally try to be happy. Jiraiya-sama's report said Itachi is dead, so you don't have to lock yourself away anymore.
To endure.
Even when she knows this is all her fault.
The blood of her family on her hands.
And she's not really sure she still wants to be one.
*
Disaster.
The word is most prominent in his mind when Hyuuga Hiashi, the Hyuuga Clan Head and Konoha Council member, enters the chamber.
Circular, with the Council seats elevated around a central 'pit' of a sort.
Slowly, the others filter in.
Clan Heads. Elders. All take their seats, all think they know what to expect.
The main doors open, then close.
Uzumaki Naruto, vessel of the Kyuubi no Kitsune.
"You know why you are here, Genin."
Showing no concern at all.
"Really? I dunno, my memory's kinda fuzzy, old man."
And Hiashi can barely control his hands.
"Insolent! You are charged with bringing a dangerous psychopath into Konohagakure, resulting in the deaths of a considerable number of our own ninja and civilians in the wake of your _recklessness_!"
At Koharu Utatane-sama's words, he only just stops them from shaking.
"Some of us here have never been taken in by the well-wishings and idle dreams of people who refused to honor sacrifices made," the Elder went on, her tone glacial. "And this recent disaster only underscores the _threat_ that you have become to not only your fellow nins, but to Konohagakure no Sato itself!"
"All my life, I've been treated like I was some kind of monster. Like my very presence would somehow pollute whoever as much as talked to me."
Eyes, icy blue one moment, seeming to shift into a shade of equally icy purple as shadows dance in the shifting light the next, travel from one face to another, to another, to another, without as much as a hitch.
"Well, congratulations, you geriatric old farts."
Uzumaki grins.
"You wastes of space went out of your way to make me one."
Not a nice grin.
"You've noone to blame but yourselves if I decide to ... oblige you."
One might even say that it's quite nasty. And that it has a lot of teeth.
"Not today, though ..."
The doors open again, allowing two men entrance ...
... one is dismissed almost out of hand, being 'only' a Jounin.
The other ... gains more notice.
You do not often get the chance to see someone as stone-faced and cold-blooded as Danzo visibly upset.
"Uzumaki ... -san," the Elder nods jerkily before turning to address the assembly. "Honored Council, there's been an unfortunate discovery. Myself and the Hokage have investigated and we are led to believe through substantial evidence that this most recent ... event ... was instigated by a renegade faction of former Konoha-nin ..."
Briefly, very briefly, Hiashi's Byakugan catches momentary flickers of surprise on the faces of several present, and doesn't doubt that his own showed the same ... but as the grizzled veteran sprouts his tale from start to finish he almost breathes a sigh of relief.
*
"Well, that was a close call, wasn't it?"
Hatake Kakashi can't really help it. It's ingrained in his very being. Reflex action, as it were. Habit.
"Not really. And don't fish for information ... Jounin," his former student replies, perfectly at ease. As if he hadn't just been in a hearing where his life had, ever so briefly, been on the line.
"That's not very polite, Naruto-kun."
"Well, maybe I've decided that I don't like you very much, Hatake-teme," the teenager says with a sunny smile, and disappears in a poof of ninja smoke.
"Kage ..."
*
"... Bunshin, huh?" Anko grins.
She's almost, _almost_ used to it.
It still freaks her out more often than not.
Although, she decides, this job does have its perks.
Scaring the crap out of tight assed Clan Heads, for one thing. Very much a good thing in her book.
She stuffs her hands into her pockets, and whistles off-key as she ambles, perfectly at ease in the rain, towards her favorite dango place.
*
"We're not done yet."
Uzumaki's voice sounds from right behind him, making Hiashi freeze.
"Mitarashi-kun didn't quite finish before you had to be called away, you see."
The chamber is empty, Hiashi having been the last one inside ...
... he gets the impression that it really doesn't matter.
"Uzumaki-san, I can assure you that whatever it is that woman told you, it is colored by her own prejudice and no Hyuuga would _ever_ ..."
The spike of tightly contained and directed killing intent stops him in his tracks. It stops pretty much everything, save for shallow, rapid breathing ...
"That woman, as you say, holds my trust ... which can't really be said for you, so you'll excuse me if I judge your momentary lapse there as worth little more than common excrement," Uzumaki walks, no, stalks around to stand in front of him, not even bothering to look.
Nor does he have to.
Hiashi can barely move a muscle.
"It was quite inventive, I'll give you that. Double-cross the Council's little attempt at harvesting samples from the precious last Uchiha by using one of your own to subtly dose his medication with a stimulant," the Kyuubi vessel grins at him. "How very unfortunate that, as you say, that woman, is very very good where various poisons and related compounds are concerned. How very unfortunate that the results were so much more ... potent ... than you'd anticipated. That your little plan backfired, and instead of making useless their Uchiha, it let him ... well, you know."
"Pr ... preposterous," Hiashi manages.
"Really? Oh, you wanted Danzo to take the fall. You counted on it. After all, it was in part his idea, wasn't it. To challenge the oh so very _noble_ Hyuuga by attempting to bring back another powerful Dojutsu into the Leaf. In volume. And you knew that he'd go alone, since for all his militant leanings, he _is_ quite loyal. To his own idea of Konoha, yes, but still to Konoha. All of this death, this needless destruction ... all for petty prestige. I wonder what the Hokage would do if she knew. Or ... maybe simply let it circulate among the people. After all ..." Uzumaki snickers, "it would hardly be the first time a Clan with a powerful Dojutsu was affected by insanity."
"What do you want?"
Calm.
Calm.
Think this through rationally. Debate. He wants something. He needs something. After all, otherwise, he wouldn't be talking to you, now would he?
They all want something.
"I want to be Hokage," a cheerful, sunny, altogether _fake_ smile. Why hasn't he ever noticed it before. "Of a strong village. And I will be, with or without the Hyuuga. Your clan is part of Konoha, though. If only it were a less ... volatile one ... things would be so much easier."
Simple. So simple ...
"Oh, don't think I'll take your solemn oath on it, you pathetic waste of chakra. I need some reassurance. I believe the word 'hostage' should apply. To be ... apprenticed, under Mitarashi-kun, just to make you remember where your priorities should lie."
Freeze.
Unfreeze.
"... very well. Hyuuga Hinata shall be ..."
"No. Your prodigy."
"The Branch Family? I don't believe that should pose a problem, Uzumaki-san."
"_Your_ prodigy. I said nothing about Neji."
An hour later finds him on his way home, mildly shaken, but oddly reassured.
Uzumaki ...
... could be a threat, one day, to him and the Hyuuga.
But he's just a child.
Somewhat shrewd. Somewhat intelligent.
But one that, through this 'deal', has left himself open.
What, oh what, would the Godaime Hokage say if she were to hear of Uzumaki going out of his way to set up his hated Rival's death. Blackmailing an important Clan. Going as far as to manufacture conspiracy.
Setting it up will not be difficult at all.
Little fool.
For the first time in several hours, Hyuuga Hiashi smiles.
Back in a dark, closed Council meeting chamber, a Shadow Clone poofs out of existence ...
*
... and Kyuubi grins, opening his eyes.
"Done?"
"You doubt me? I'm hurt. Injured, even," the kitsune stretches, chuckling dementedly at the Hokage's expression.
Play with their minds, play with their spirits.
And, after all, ape-rats though they may be, you could only do so much on your own.
Even if you were a fox demon.
Not, he reflects, that he'll ever say as much to anyone.
This game.
This game is actually starting to be fun, he admits to himself.
"I suppose I should fill my side of the deal," Tsunade sighs. "But I have to ask. Why?"
Kyuubi snickers.
"Like I told Hyuuga-teme ... the brat will be Hokage one day. Hokage of a strong Village. He is, after all, my 'container', and it would be a grave, grave insult for him to preside over pathetic weaklings. Well ... more pathetic than the rest of you _humans_. If I have to _make_ them, well ..." an evil, evil smile.
"Are you certain about the other thing?"
"Oh, quite. After all, I expect the fools to be only too eager to unload that accursed land on the Demon. It should fit in with their world-view quite well," he stands. "Besides, it's paid for, isn't it?"
The Hokage gives him a 'look', and a weary sigh. Quite amusing, if you asked him.
After all, he'd all but told her they'd looted Otogakure-no-Sato of everything of worth. What did she think, that the Hebi-yarou ran the place on fear alone?
He leaves the Hokage's office with a spring in his step, a smile on his face, and the deed to the Uchiha sector firmly in hand.
After all, it's only appropriate.
You keep what you kill.
*
Two of them.
She feels it, as soon as the two blades are next to one-another.
The one the bastard gave her a more traditional katana. The other, a straight-bladed ninja-to.
_Both_ of them Kusanagi-no-tsurugi.
"What the hell?"
"Kusanagi-no-tsurugi," Kyuubi says, sprawled out in the apartment's sole recliner. "Or rather, two of them. You feel it, don't you. It's no ordinary sword. You've used on in battle, so you know. It's _easy_ to use it, it's _easy_ to cut with it. These are just two shards of the original. The _concept_, the _essence_ of a Cut embodied within a blade."
It's not raining anymore, though the skies remain cloudy.
"Ame-no-murakumo-no-tsurugi was a sword that could Cut the air itself, not merely travel through it," the kitsune continues. "Here, on this world, it was found by the first of the Amano - the man who would later become the first Raikage, or legendary 'Raitei' if you want to be presumptuous about it. Humans usually do. The first time it was called Kusanagi ... here, at least ... was when the Raitei split a shard away from it, and gave it to his companion in thanks for aid in their long struggles."
"... is this going anywhere?"
"You may know the man," Kyuubi grins. "After all, your old teacher was so proud of being descended from him. The 'Jagan no Shinobi' and legendary snake summoner of the Mido. Hence, 'sword of the snake', or 'Grasscutter' after a particularly bloody conflict in Grass Country ..."
Anko blinks. Alright, that was impressive, but ...
"Again, aho, the _point_? And I thought 'human affairs' didn't interest you."
"They do when the thing they're about was chucked in here by someone I used to drink with. And I'm telling you this, because this, ultimately, is what you'll be on the lookout for ..."
*
'Kid in the snow, way to go
It only happens once a year
It only happens once a lifetime
Make the most of it
Second just to being born
Second to dying to
What else could you do?'
- 'Fox in the snow', Rasputina
*
*
*
*
*
EPILOGUE
*
The magatama floats in front of his eyes, even as the dead man ignores the elements around him.
'Man'.
No. Not really.
Not anymore.
He'd once called himself a Devil.
It was now closer to the truth than he was entirely comfortable with it being.
"You informed him, then?"
"Yes."
"Good, good ... how is he?"
"... complaining."
The voice coming from within the magatama chuckles.
"All is well, then. Good work, Momoichi-kun. Good work."
"Thank you, Asutarotto-sama," he replies, bowing his head. "Shall I return, now?"
"Hmm ... well, that would be difficult, seeing as you're pretty much stuck there until he manages to find _it_ and break the Seal. You might as well see about helping out."
Zabuza doesn't sweatdrop.
It wouldn't be dignified.
Neither does he gnash his teeth.
It would be disrespectful.
And he knows that, eventually, he'll be standing in front of his new employer again, and she'll remember.
The outcome would be unpleasant.
"Yes, Asutarotto-sama."
"Oh, and Zabuza-kun? Don't get killed. Again. It would be a waste of investment."
"Yes, Asutarotto-sama."
The link fades, the magatama slowly coming down to rest in the palm of his hand, even as faint giggling can be heard from within.
A moment.
Yes, the link is out.
Zabuza proceeds to turn the scorched earth of his original arrival point even more so with the most vicious string of swear words it had heard ever since the last time Susanoo had visited.
*
END den of foxes
*
Eyes, icy blue one moment, seeming to shift into a shade of equally icy purple as shadows dance in the shifting light the next, travel from one face to another, to another, to another, without as much as a hitch.
"Well, congratulations, you geriatric old farts."
He grins.
"You wastes of space went out of your way to make me one."
Not a nice grin.
"You've noone to blame but yourselves if I decide to ... oblige you."
One might even say that it's quite nasty. And that it has a lot of teeth.
---
Den of foxes
fourth in the Kyuubi Chronicles line of stories.
by Griever
disclaimer: the standard Spiel applies. I reserve the right to fold, spindle, and mutilate canon as I'm not getting a broken dime for this.
---
Rain falls.
Oh, sun shines at times. Other times, the sky is cloudy. Neither of which seems to have any influence at all on the fact that, yes, water is falling from the sky, and yes, it isn't looking like it will stop anytime soon.
It seems appropriate.
And he doesn't really care, one way or another.
He likes the rain, which is a bit of a contradiction, all things considered. Embodiment of fire and all.
Just as well. He's had to be out in it for a while now.
Well, not strictly 'had' ...
The gaki would have, so ... he felt a sort of obligation. Grudging, yes, but it was there.
He doesn't really feel anything in regard to what's happening, other than the usual desire to rip the throats out of a few mutts ... that would be bad manners, though. They're keeping away, in any case.
Then the speech is over, and he turns away. Walks away.
He's never been one for sentiment towards those who've actually been useful to him, or those who'd been more than just tools ... he isn't about to stay behind and brood about somebody he hardly knew or cared to know for any longer than 'pro forma' behavior requires.
Funerals ...
... such novel, useless little bits of idleness these ape-rats come up with when they have time on their hands.
The faint sensation of indignant chakra and a subsonic buzz reach him, from a distance. He ignores them.
He's paid his 'dues', and more besides. It's a lot more than he expects he'll ever get, if the time comes.
Let them bristle and be upset.
He's never been all that fond of dogs, one way or the other. Filthy mongrels.
Enough of a favor and catering to these fools that he's wearing black, as pretty much the whole damn Village is.
Behind him, the funeral service for Inuzuka Kiba concludes.
By the time it's done, he's already elsewhere.
As is the case in the wake of any and all major upsets, there is work to do.
*
Coincidences are not.
She knows this as surely as she knows her own name and stock in trade. A coincidence is the first thing you look at.
It is neither pretty business, nor is it one she'd have chosen to attend, if given the choice in the first place.
"Death of subject occurred due to rapid chakra depletion, coupled with accelerated cellular degeneration due to the body's induced attempt to replenish its stores," she says, dictating to the recording device.
Otherwise, the room is still, and cold.
In the sublevel of the Hokage tower, right next to the old morgue that was in use back when there _was_ no Konoha Medical Service.
No windows. Walls of roughly hewn stone, with icy blue seals covering them and keeping temperature just on the edge above freezing.
"The process was likely instigated through outside influence, and led to a rapid degeneration of both endo- and epidermis, making identification through those highly unlikely, or even impossible," her hand reached for a short, slender length of metal.
Shizune doesn't like this particular facet of her chosen profession one bit, but she's here for the simple reason that her shishou, who is likely the only more experienced medical nin in the village, has other duties she needs to attend.
The razor edge of the scalpel glints in the cold, artificial white light.
A short, precise incision.
"Muscle tissue in subject is nearly non-existent. Initial evaluation of bodily fluid levels has them only at 5% of baseline values. Retrieving samples of both for pending analysis."
A hermetically sealed container and vial.
Ker-click
"Nervous system shows a similar degree of degradation, barring some areas of the lower spine which ..."
Eyes widen.
Coincidences are not.
The recording device is disabled with a hasty press of a button as the medic nin further examines her findings, growing more and more grim by the minute.
*
"What is the meaning of this?"
Calm.
Unflappable.
He makes for an imposing figure, the image only accentuated by the missing arm and eye.
Hatake Kakashi isn't intimidated in the least. Few things get to have that effect on the Copy Nin these days, which, he reflects, may be a bit of a liability in some cases ... before brushing those concerns off.
It's not everyday you get to live through a massacre twice. Certainly not one where the massacred are the same both times. Well, more or less the same. And it's not everyday that you're sent to arrest a Council member, and head of an ANBU division, decommissioned though it may be.
He doesn't say or do anything, there and then, though. Just stands, and tries not to look at the Godaime, and does most definitely not reach for his Icha Icha. Because she's f*cking scary when she's really, really bloody furious.
Emphasis on the bloody part, ne?
That intimidates Kakashi quite a bit.
"ANBU Training Division, codename 'Root', operative #052," Godaime Hokage says icily, leafing through a folder. "Infiltration and extermination specialist."
Hands slam the folder shut with a sound akin to a thunderclap, accentuated by the rain still falling outside.
"Listed as Missing In Action. Well," Kakashi can see the muscles on the back of his 'prisoner's' neck twitch. "You'll be happy to know that he's been found. Dead, unfortunately. Also, as _luck_ would have it, within the room Uchiha Sasuke _had_ been kept prior to the unfortunate events of two nights past."
She brings a fist down on the desk she sits behind, sending cracks along the extra hardened wood's surface.
"How very unfortunate for you, Danzo-san. You seem to be getting careless in your old age, _misplacing_ subordinates ... or should that be former subordinates, since I seem to remember Sandaime-sama removing your 'organization' from the official charter? Quite a few of them, in fact, seem to be listed as Missing. All but those I've noticed happen to be listed as dead, as luck would have it."
"An interesting ... theory, Tsunade-sama," the man replies stiffly.
"Theory. Yes, quite. In theory, you cannot be held accountable for this supreme display of incompetence. How very regretful. Don't worry, though. It's been, handled ..."
The scroll impacts Danzo's chest with a firm thump, and his one arm reflexively grabs it.
Unrolls it.
His eye goes wide for just a moment.
"T-this is ... you _can't_ possibly justify this course of action, Tsunade-sama!"
"I assure you, Councilman, it is well within my power to do so, especially given the current state of emergency," and Tsunade smirks. "I am forced to conclude Konoha forces, an entire _division_ as it were, have in fact been subverted by the enemy. There have been no reports lodged, no regular status updates sent, no mission balance drawn ... so I have found myself contemplating the prospect of declaring your 'missing' former subordinates as, case in point, Missing-nin."
Kakashi remains as silent and still as a statue, bolted to the floor, as the tension in the room suddenly skyrockets.
"Unless of course, you have a ... suggestion, as to how this matter can be dealt with otherwise," her voice is suddenly all sweetness and light and razor-sharp edges. "Danzo-kun? I'm waiting."
*
Not difficult.
Not difficult at all.
Just a short walk, a brief stroll, a momentary meandering just underneath everyone's threshold of notice.
A somewhat welcome diversion, since it's been a while since she's done light duty.
And as much as battle got her blood pumping, she wasn't one to say no to simple assignments. Even if they were only halfway official.
The medic nin didn't even notice her on the way past.
Were they to be confronted with one-another's attitudes, though, they'd find them to be startlingly similar in some cases.
In one case in particular.
Mitarashi Anko was also one to believe that coincidences were not.
Now she had a bit of work to do in proving it.
*
Toss.
She eyes the tsuba.
Grab.
Plain black and unadorned. Round, with a single rectangular slit in the center. Just the right size.
Toss.
The leaves of the tree she sits below shudder with raindrop upon raindrop of impact, but let little to nothing through.
Grab.
She should be in bed, or still in the hospital, really ... but nobody notices, in the still enduring chaos that started off on 'that' night, one missing non-critical patient.
Toss.
There were no complications.
Grab.
But things lost can't always be returned.
The tsuba travels across her knuckles, dexterous fingers flipping it as if it were a coin.
The tree above shakes for a moment, drawing her attention upwards.
There is a single leaf, twisting and turning through the air, fluttering to the ground in spirals that she sees will lead it right past her.
And she waits, turning slightly to the side ...
And she moves, hand flashing outwards.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Firmly on her blind-side, the leaf rests between her index and middle fingers.
She sighs.
Produces two lengths of silk thong and threads each through the slit of the tsuba.
Plain black, unadorned, and just the right size.
Resting across where her right eye used to be.
The tree shakes yet again, and a flurry of leaves is dislodged.
Tenten moves, and kunai flash through the air, piercing their targets dead-center.
*
Dead.
It's even in the air here, lingering despite the incessant rain that's washing away everything else.
He doesn't mind, really.
Walking trough the Uchiha sector, Kyuubi does something he hasn't had a chance to in a while.
He contemplates.
The irony of this situation is not lost on him either.
Kusanagi-no-tsurugi and the Hebi-yarou. Hebi-yarou and the Sharingan. Ame-no-Murakumo.
He snickers.
Time tends to move in circles, he knows, and oddly symmetrical ones at that. Much amusement can be derived from just how twisted these little bits of chance turn out to be.
"Well?"
His annoying ANBU shadow hasn't been present since that little bit of bloodshed extravaganza, but he's back now.
"Uzumaki-san," at least he knows how to be polite. There's a lot to be said for politeness. It even makes people wanting to kill you more bearable.
Of course, that only amounts to his not bothering to kill them in new and inventive ways.
"The Council requires your presence."
Ah, so that's it. Still ...
"Requires, as in asks. Or requires, as in they want me there in shackles?"
His voice drips contempt.
"The latter, I'm afraid, Uzumaki-san."
"You're supposed to bring me in, are you?"
"I would rather it not come to that, Uzumaki-san."
"Wise decision," Kyuubi barely manages to stop himself from grinning. "Well, lead on, then. Musn't keep them waiting, now."
*
It's nobody's fault but her own.
Those tears she cries.
Those regrets she holds.
Red flowers against black marble. A simple plaque. Two names.
In the world of shinobi, words are lethal weapons.
At first, she blamed him.
At first, she blamed everyone.
It took looking into a mirror, and seeing the realization lurking in the depths of her own eyes, to make her accept that this ...
Beloved wife and mother.
... is ultimately ...
Beloved husband and father.
... her fault.
Promise me, Naruto! Promise to bring him back!
It's on that rain-filled, solemn afternoon that Haruno Sakura realizes what it truly means to be ninja.
Please, wake up. It's finally over, so please wake up. Now that you can finally try to be happy. Jiraiya-sama's report said Itachi is dead, so you don't have to lock yourself away anymore.
To endure.
Even when she knows this is all her fault.
The blood of her family on her hands.
And she's not really sure she still wants to be one.
*
Disaster.
The word is most prominent in his mind when Hyuuga Hiashi, the Hyuuga Clan Head and Konoha Council member, enters the chamber.
Circular, with the Council seats elevated around a central 'pit' of a sort.
Slowly, the others filter in.
Clan Heads. Elders. All take their seats, all think they know what to expect.
The main doors open, then close.
Uzumaki Naruto, vessel of the Kyuubi no Kitsune.
"You know why you are here, Genin."
Showing no concern at all.
"Really? I dunno, my memory's kinda fuzzy, old man."
And Hiashi can barely control his hands.
"Insolent! You are charged with bringing a dangerous psychopath into Konohagakure, resulting in the deaths of a considerable number of our own ninja and civilians in the wake of your _recklessness_!"
At Koharu Utatane-sama's words, he only just stops them from shaking.
"Some of us here have never been taken in by the well-wishings and idle dreams of people who refused to honor sacrifices made," the Elder went on, her tone glacial. "And this recent disaster only underscores the _threat_ that you have become to not only your fellow nins, but to Konohagakure no Sato itself!"
"All my life, I've been treated like I was some kind of monster. Like my very presence would somehow pollute whoever as much as talked to me."
Eyes, icy blue one moment, seeming to shift into a shade of equally icy purple as shadows dance in the shifting light the next, travel from one face to another, to another, to another, without as much as a hitch.
"Well, congratulations, you geriatric old farts."
Uzumaki grins.
"You wastes of space went out of your way to make me one."
Not a nice grin.
"You've noone to blame but yourselves if I decide to ... oblige you."
One might even say that it's quite nasty. And that it has a lot of teeth.
"Not today, though ..."
The doors open again, allowing two men entrance ...
... one is dismissed almost out of hand, being 'only' a Jounin.
The other ... gains more notice.
You do not often get the chance to see someone as stone-faced and cold-blooded as Danzo visibly upset.
"Uzumaki ... -san," the Elder nods jerkily before turning to address the assembly. "Honored Council, there's been an unfortunate discovery. Myself and the Hokage have investigated and we are led to believe through substantial evidence that this most recent ... event ... was instigated by a renegade faction of former Konoha-nin ..."
Briefly, very briefly, Hiashi's Byakugan catches momentary flickers of surprise on the faces of several present, and doesn't doubt that his own showed the same ... but as the grizzled veteran sprouts his tale from start to finish he almost breathes a sigh of relief.
*
"Well, that was a close call, wasn't it?"
Hatake Kakashi can't really help it. It's ingrained in his very being. Reflex action, as it were. Habit.
"Not really. And don't fish for information ... Jounin," his former student replies, perfectly at ease. As if he hadn't just been in a hearing where his life had, ever so briefly, been on the line.
"That's not very polite, Naruto-kun."
"Well, maybe I've decided that I don't like you very much, Hatake-teme," the teenager says with a sunny smile, and disappears in a poof of ninja smoke.
"Kage ..."
*
"... Bunshin, huh?" Anko grins.
She's almost, _almost_ used to it.
It still freaks her out more often than not.
Although, she decides, this job does have its perks.
Scaring the crap out of tight assed Clan Heads, for one thing. Very much a good thing in her book.
She stuffs her hands into her pockets, and whistles off-key as she ambles, perfectly at ease in the rain, towards her favorite dango place.
*
"We're not done yet."
Uzumaki's voice sounds from right behind him, making Hiashi freeze.
"Mitarashi-kun didn't quite finish before you had to be called away, you see."
The chamber is empty, Hiashi having been the last one inside ...
... he gets the impression that it really doesn't matter.
"Uzumaki-san, I can assure you that whatever it is that woman told you, it is colored by her own prejudice and no Hyuuga would _ever_ ..."
The spike of tightly contained and directed killing intent stops him in his tracks. It stops pretty much everything, save for shallow, rapid breathing ...
"That woman, as you say, holds my trust ... which can't really be said for you, so you'll excuse me if I judge your momentary lapse there as worth little more than common excrement," Uzumaki walks, no, stalks around to stand in front of him, not even bothering to look.
Nor does he have to.
Hiashi can barely move a muscle.
"It was quite inventive, I'll give you that. Double-cross the Council's little attempt at harvesting samples from the precious last Uchiha by using one of your own to subtly dose his medication with a stimulant," the Kyuubi vessel grins at him. "How very unfortunate that, as you say, that woman, is very very good where various poisons and related compounds are concerned. How very unfortunate that the results were so much more ... potent ... than you'd anticipated. That your little plan backfired, and instead of making useless their Uchiha, it let him ... well, you know."
"Pr ... preposterous," Hiashi manages.
"Really? Oh, you wanted Danzo to take the fall. You counted on it. After all, it was in part his idea, wasn't it. To challenge the oh so very _noble_ Hyuuga by attempting to bring back another powerful Dojutsu into the Leaf. In volume. And you knew that he'd go alone, since for all his militant leanings, he _is_ quite loyal. To his own idea of Konoha, yes, but still to Konoha. All of this death, this needless destruction ... all for petty prestige. I wonder what the Hokage would do if she knew. Or ... maybe simply let it circulate among the people. After all ..." Uzumaki snickers, "it would hardly be the first time a Clan with a powerful Dojutsu was affected by insanity."
"What do you want?"
Calm.
Calm.
Think this through rationally. Debate. He wants something. He needs something. After all, otherwise, he wouldn't be talking to you, now would he?
They all want something.
"I want to be Hokage," a cheerful, sunny, altogether _fake_ smile. Why hasn't he ever noticed it before. "Of a strong village. And I will be, with or without the Hyuuga. Your clan is part of Konoha, though. If only it were a less ... volatile one ... things would be so much easier."
Simple. So simple ...
"Oh, don't think I'll take your solemn oath on it, you pathetic waste of chakra. I need some reassurance. I believe the word 'hostage' should apply. To be ... apprenticed, under Mitarashi-kun, just to make you remember where your priorities should lie."
Freeze.
Unfreeze.
"... very well. Hyuuga Hinata shall be ..."
"No. Your prodigy."
"The Branch Family? I don't believe that should pose a problem, Uzumaki-san."
"_Your_ prodigy. I said nothing about Neji."
An hour later finds him on his way home, mildly shaken, but oddly reassured.
Uzumaki ...
... could be a threat, one day, to him and the Hyuuga.
But he's just a child.
Somewhat shrewd. Somewhat intelligent.
But one that, through this 'deal', has left himself open.
What, oh what, would the Godaime Hokage say if she were to hear of Uzumaki going out of his way to set up his hated Rival's death. Blackmailing an important Clan. Going as far as to manufacture conspiracy.
Setting it up will not be difficult at all.
Little fool.
For the first time in several hours, Hyuuga Hiashi smiles.
Back in a dark, closed Council meeting chamber, a Shadow Clone poofs out of existence ...
*
... and Kyuubi grins, opening his eyes.
"Done?"
"You doubt me? I'm hurt. Injured, even," the kitsune stretches, chuckling dementedly at the Hokage's expression.
Play with their minds, play with their spirits.
And, after all, ape-rats though they may be, you could only do so much on your own.
Even if you were a fox demon.
Not, he reflects, that he'll ever say as much to anyone.
This game.
This game is actually starting to be fun, he admits to himself.
"I suppose I should fill my side of the deal," Tsunade sighs. "But I have to ask. Why?"
Kyuubi snickers.
"Like I told Hyuuga-teme ... the brat will be Hokage one day. Hokage of a strong Village. He is, after all, my 'container', and it would be a grave, grave insult for him to preside over pathetic weaklings. Well ... more pathetic than the rest of you _humans_. If I have to _make_ them, well ..." an evil, evil smile.
"Are you certain about the other thing?"
"Oh, quite. After all, I expect the fools to be only too eager to unload that accursed land on the Demon. It should fit in with their world-view quite well," he stands. "Besides, it's paid for, isn't it?"
The Hokage gives him a 'look', and a weary sigh. Quite amusing, if you asked him.
After all, he'd all but told her they'd looted Otogakure-no-Sato of everything of worth. What did she think, that the Hebi-yarou ran the place on fear alone?
He leaves the Hokage's office with a spring in his step, a smile on his face, and the deed to the Uchiha sector firmly in hand.
After all, it's only appropriate.
You keep what you kill.
*
Two of them.
She feels it, as soon as the two blades are next to one-another.
The one the bastard gave her a more traditional katana. The other, a straight-bladed ninja-to.
_Both_ of them Kusanagi-no-tsurugi.
"What the hell?"
"Kusanagi-no-tsurugi," Kyuubi says, sprawled out in the apartment's sole recliner. "Or rather, two of them. You feel it, don't you. It's no ordinary sword. You've used on in battle, so you know. It's _easy_ to use it, it's _easy_ to cut with it. These are just two shards of the original. The _concept_, the _essence_ of a Cut embodied within a blade."
It's not raining anymore, though the skies remain cloudy.
"Ame-no-murakumo-no-tsurugi was a sword that could Cut the air itself, not merely travel through it," the kitsune continues. "Here, on this world, it was found by the first of the Amano - the man who would later become the first Raikage, or legendary 'Raitei' if you want to be presumptuous about it. Humans usually do. The first time it was called Kusanagi ... here, at least ... was when the Raitei split a shard away from it, and gave it to his companion in thanks for aid in their long struggles."
"... is this going anywhere?"
"You may know the man," Kyuubi grins. "After all, your old teacher was so proud of being descended from him. The 'Jagan no Shinobi' and legendary snake summoner of the Mido. Hence, 'sword of the snake', or 'Grasscutter' after a particularly bloody conflict in Grass Country ..."
Anko blinks. Alright, that was impressive, but ...
"Again, aho, the _point_? And I thought 'human affairs' didn't interest you."
"They do when the thing they're about was chucked in here by someone I used to drink with. And I'm telling you this, because this, ultimately, is what you'll be on the lookout for ..."
*
'Kid in the snow, way to go
It only happens once a year
It only happens once a lifetime
Make the most of it
Second just to being born
Second to dying to
What else could you do?'
- 'Fox in the snow', Rasputina
*
*
*
*
*
EPILOGUE
*
The magatama floats in front of his eyes, even as the dead man ignores the elements around him.
'Man'.
No. Not really.
Not anymore.
He'd once called himself a Devil.
It was now closer to the truth than he was entirely comfortable with it being.
"You informed him, then?"
"Yes."
"Good, good ... how is he?"
"... complaining."
The voice coming from within the magatama chuckles.
"All is well, then. Good work, Momoichi-kun. Good work."
"Thank you, Asutarotto-sama," he replies, bowing his head. "Shall I return, now?"
"Hmm ... well, that would be difficult, seeing as you're pretty much stuck there until he manages to find _it_ and break the Seal. You might as well see about helping out."
Zabuza doesn't sweatdrop.
It wouldn't be dignified.
Neither does he gnash his teeth.
It would be disrespectful.
And he knows that, eventually, he'll be standing in front of his new employer again, and she'll remember.
The outcome would be unpleasant.
"Yes, Asutarotto-sama."
"Oh, and Zabuza-kun? Don't get killed. Again. It would be a waste of investment."
"Yes, Asutarotto-sama."
The link fades, the magatama slowly coming down to rest in the palm of his hand, even as faint giggling can be heard from within.
A moment.
Yes, the link is out.
Zabuza proceeds to turn the scorched earth of his original arrival point even more so with the most vicious string of swear words it had heard ever since the last time Susanoo had visited.
*
END den of foxes
*
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