Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto and any reference to any other thing owned by someone else.

Claimer: The OCs are mine.

Lost

Chapter 1

It had been two months since they were last together; both master and apprentice had been forced to part ways due to circumstances beyond their control. A new lead had been found about the whereabouts and plans of the group that the apprentice was training to defend himself from.

The pair had parted ways in a port town on the northern coast of the Land of Lightning. While there the master was sitting in a bar meeting with one of his many contacts, gathering information, the apprentice meanwhile was sleeping in their shared hotel room, having been exhausted from training done throughout the day.

The next day found the apprentice alone in the room with a note and a scroll, the note revealing that his master had left him to go follow a lead that had been unearthed, but that he had left some scrolls within the scroll for the apprentice to amuse himself with while he was gone. They would then meet up a month later at another port town in the south-east part of the Land of Lightning.

So the apprentice followed his master's orders and went off to train on his own. By the time master and apprentice were supposed to meet, the apprentice found himself in quite the predicament.

He was in the right port town, just at the wrong, or rather worst time, the streets were filled with fighting. Apparently some pirates, and bandits had teamed up to try their hand at taking a town for themselves, it just so happened that the locals were not so easily convinced to give up their town to those outlaws. After quickly deducing friend from foe, the young apprentice joined the fray.

He was in the part of town that the outlaws outnumbered the locals, five to one. Good odds for the outlaws, bad for the locals.

There was a man by a wall that was about to get impaled. Before the finishing blow could connect his attacker was knocked to the side by a powerful head butt, followed up by a quick kick in the noggin.

The man by the wall looked up to see a pair of twins, with twin grins, grinning down at him before they summarily jumped away to fight another of the outlaws.

At the exact same time, at another part of the scene, five bandits had severely wounded three of the local defenders, not enough to kill them yet, but enough to incapacitate them. These five met maker when each were kicked in their groins up into the air and impaled with five elbows on the way down.

At yet another part of the battlefield more of the bandits and pirates were found trading blows with the locals, the more peaceful of the two sides being the ones on the losing side. But just like their comrades they too were saved by multiple figures.

Before the figures were able to aid the injured men, a bloodied man came running onto the scene screaming about monsters on the docks.

The figures collectively went forth towards the docks to see if they could help out.

Once they arrived the level of brutality that was witnessed was far greater than that of the battlefield they had just come from.

Bodies of local defenders were littered on the ground, the water below and beyond the docks were crimson, with the stench of death filled the air.

Men were still fighting on the decks of anchored sea vessels, men were still fighting on the docks, and men were even fighting in the water. But what they were fighting were not men. At least they didn't look like men.

They were grotesque creatures, each distinctly unique. But amongst them were monsters far greater than these mere peons.

On one end of the docks there were men being killed left and right, their limbs being torn off by gale force winds being conjured up from the mad swinging sword held by a man wearing only brown pants, his chest bare riddles with scars, his head covered in what might have once been a white bandanna. Men continued rushing at this monster of a man attempting and failing to send him back to hell where he belonged, only to be cut down, a sinister grin never leaving the monster's face.

At another part of the docks a man dressed in a bloodied grey vest and green cargo pants was banging heads with the men attacking him, he was breaking bones with his bare hands left, right, and center, he was kicking holes through the bodies of the port defenders.

The port town, more like a city in its size, originally having more than five thousand able bodied men to defend her, was now left with a fifth of that number, plus one assassin in training.

Fighting on the deck of one of the bigger vessels was a man covered from head to toe in bandages, resembling a mummy, but wearing a black long sleeved shirt, black pants, boots, and coat. With one hand he punched holes into the men he was fighting, while the other burned men with bright green flames emanating from the mentioned appendage, a concentrated mass being in the palm of his hand. So far of the three he was the most merciful. Instantly killing his enemies, while the other two getting in two or three more blows before the finishing one.

The figures that came from another part of town spread out to aid in stopping the monstrosities, with the exception of their leader who was left to deal with the lasts of the greater threats.

This monster of a man was roughly seven feet tall, clothed from head to toe in a dark red cloak. Not a splotch of blood could be seen on his garb, not a tear, or a slit. He looked as if he had yet to join the battle, the only part of him betraying his role in the battle was that he was in the middle of all the corpses, gloved right hand was gripping a long sword with a red pattern on it resembling blood flowing down its edge.

He stood still seemingly staring at the new arrival, as if waiting to be attacked in revenge for the fallen.

His opponent did not disappoint, but unlike his other foes this one was fast, not as fast as he, but faster than his previous victims.

After a short while the clothes of the apprentice, whose master had yet to arrive, were torn to pieces, the cloak that hid his features was no more, his shirt and pants were ripped, torn, burnt, and in short ready to fall of. The apprentice was now sporting several wounds that normally would be healing at that moment, but they were not. He was bleeding in places he never knew he could bleed, some of the blood coming out of places that weren't even visibly hurt.

During the brief fight he had pushed his body way past his limits, adrenaline and his previously unmatched stamina finally leaving him only after a few short minutes.

Tightly gripping the blade that kept his adversary from killing him was cracked in so many places that it should have shattered by now.

The red clad man looked upon his foe with glee, joy rolling off him in waves. He raised his sword into the air, and was about to deliver the finishing blow, but something stopped him in his tracks.

In a desperate move, the young apprentice dived into the depths of his being and forced a power that he was cursed with out. A visible wave of energy blasted its way outwards, forcing nearby objects to go flying back. The wounds suffered from the battle hissed closed. The dry and drying blood evaporated from the heat coming from the energy which quickly enveloped the young apprentice. A tower of crimson power could be seen towering over and around him. After a momentary pause in which the aura vanished, it quickly returned with a force so great that the land he was standing on gave way and became a crater, in which both source of power and red clad man were the only things standing in. The aura then quickly assumed a vulpine form around its host, forming not one, but three tails.

Throughout all this the red clad man stood watching with anticipation of the possibilities this new development would grant, a great challenge, a new toy, and a test of power.

The other monsters on the battlefield did not bother to take note of the proceedings and just continued with what they were doing, most of which had moved further into the city to wreak havoc and or take control of more of the city. The only able bodied defenders remaining alive being the ones that either escaped or those that were aided by the young apprentice. The only real opposition was the one young man or monster fighting the red clad man.

Before the young man turned monster could make another move, his opponent moved, but he did not attack, rather he let loose his own power. A power similar to the previously released one was felt, the shockwaves just as if not even more powerful. But instead of forming a vulpine like shroud, it melted into the red clothing of the man, giving them an ethereal glow.

After a full minute of nothing happening, both combatants rushed one another, neither thinking clearly, just having one thought in mind, destroy.

They met each other blow for blow, each sending out shockwaves that could be felt all over the city-sized port town. Each kick, each punch soundly connecting with each other, blades tossed aside lay forgotten. Their powers burning everything they touched but each other.

In another part of the place, a figure was walking through the streets dispatching pirates, and bandits left and right, not a care in the world for the lives he was taking, in the shadow of the world where the spirits could be seen, the warriors tasked with taking souls into the beyond were cowering in fear at the one passing by them, the figure even though was paying them no mind still managed to send them fearing for their semi-immortal lives.

The figure was wearing a black trench coat, underneath was a black long sleeved shirt, he was also wearing black pants, boots, a pair of sunglasses, and black gloves. His long black hair was tied in a lose pony-tail. His eyes were the color opposite of the famed Hyuuga Byakugan; these eyes were just two black orbs. He was around six feet three inches tall. In his right hand was a sword hilt, beyond the cross guard was a blade of wind, visible to the eye, it was like a storm in progress, lightning cascading up and down the blade. While in his left hand was a sake cup, which he took a sip from after each kill.

After walking for some time he came upon the mummy-man who was killing on the deck of the ship.

The mummy-man, after seeing the sake sipping figure, called out to him.

"Ha ha! I see you finally found me! Have you come to take me back?" he asked.

"No," a short pause, "I've come to end you," was the reply.

"Tch, like you could lay a figure on me, I've been up here long enough to kill you!"

"I doubt a few decades could have made you strong enough to beat me."

"The student is meant to beat the teacher. So teacher, prepare to DIE!"

With that, the mummy-mad rushed the figure he called teacher. But instead of hitting the figure he hit the floor. His bandages caught fire as he fell, his arms and head falling in different places from his body.

"One down, three to go," the figure said walking away from the corpse, and leaving even more in his wake.

Back at the docks the fight between the two crimson clad individuals continued, but instead of slowing down it was speeding up, instead of one or both getting weaker it appeared as if they were getting stronger. More power was coming out of each of the two combatants. One of whom sported five tails, while the other's clothes were glowing brighter than before. Their crimson cloaks were growing more and more visible as day turned to night. And day did indeed turn into night. Neither knew or cared when the sun had set or when the moon had risen, all they cared for was the destruction of their foe. The wind around them was blowing in every direction, swirling and howling, the clouds were violently gathering together forming the heart of a storm. Then water began to pour from the heavens, lightning struck, and thunder clapped. But the two foes paid no mind to it all.

The docks were all but non-existent, the boat sunk, warehouses around burning or collapsing. The battlefield was ground zero of a battle of monstrous proportions, as if two behemoths of power had been struggling for dominance for the past few hours.

After battling at close range, as if in sync with one another's thoughts both enemies jumped away from each other, then springing into action releasing dragons of frost, of flame, of mud, of lightning, of wood, of wind, of anything that could be, each dragon battling another for dominance. The dragons were not the regular kind seen in most battles, these ones not only had teeth to bite with, but claws to grapple and scratch with, they were solidly made out of the element that birthed them. Amid this clash of mystical titans, the two enemies stood fierce glares marring their now exposed faces.

Sometime during their close ranged combat that which concealed the red clad man's face fell or was blown of with the intensity of the battle.

Four sets of eyes met, death glares blasting at maximum intensity. Blue met red, and red met blue.

"So, you are he," the red clad man states after a few seconds pass.

"…"

"Oh, you don't know?"

"…"

"I have wanting to kill you for ever since I was granted this power."

"…"

"This power of mine is equal to yours! If not, greater!"

"…" His glare intensifying at the insult to his strength.

"I am the new, you are the old."

"…"

"My power rivals yours. Give it up! Accept your fate!"

"I will not."

"Then die!"

After these words were said, both foes rushed each other to renew their own battle amidst that of their dragons.

Blue and red eyes explode with even more power, five become eight, with bringing forth one palm, in the middle of which a swirling ball of crimson forms.

Red and blue eyes too explode with more power, the glow of his clothing glowing as bright as the sun, hand stretched out, a blood red spike jutting out from his wrist.

Both men scream and roar for all the worlds to hear their attacks.

"RASENGAN!"

"AKASENTAN!"

The visible ball of energy and the wrist blade slam into one another exploding; a split second later another sphere of crimson is formed in one fighter's free hand, and with it rams it into his opponent's abdomen. His foe stands his ground utilizing his power, due to this battle of opposing forces another explosion occurs, sending both fighters back, with only ten feet separating them.

Each panting, tired, their power not even dented, but their bodies losing to the strain placed on them by the powers.

A few seconds of much needed rest, both combatants stood straight, their aura suddenly vanish, but a new weight permeates the air, their power output has skyrocketed even further than before. The area is now thick with it. A spark could set the place on fire. In each of their eyes was a spark.

A second later both acted, sprinting towards their weapons, cracked and near destruction; both weapons find themselves in the hands of their masters. With a quick spin on their heels the two warriors rushed once more towards each other.

As the two figures near one another, another figure meets the second monster of a man. He sits a top a pyramid of corpses of men, women, children, and even animals. He sits upon a throne of lifelessness. He swings his sword one last time before seeing the walking figure.

"So, teacher," he begins, "You've come at last. Took you long enough to find us."

"It would have taken much longer had your fourth comrade not flared his gifted strength."

"Bah, it doesn't matter. You are here. Here to die by my hand. Aha Ha Ha Ha!"

He jumps down off his throne to face his teacher.

"Bloodthirsty to the bone, you did say your dream was to sit upon a throne of corpses."

"Indeed I did, teacher, indeed I did."

"And so now, you wish to add my corpse to the pile?"

"Yes."

The figure in black suddenly appeared behind his student saying, "I think not." And watched as the student shows how much he loved blood, by showering the street with his own.

So the figure continued his trek towards his third student, leaving even more corpses in his wake.

The docks were no more, the area in which the two fighters had fought was no more, in their last attack they placed all the power that they could muster into their blades.

The docks were incinerated in the explosion of power that was created when blade met blade, a second later, both bodies fell to the sand unmoving.

The ground was reduced to sand, and the water that would have been there had evaporated. Another power had shielded the port town from the blast that had evaporated the water for up to half a mile from the docks outwards.

The last monster of a man standing did not bother to exchange words with the figure decked in black. Once he spotted him, he just attacked with all the speed and power he could muster, he didn't bother with any of the fancy things that he had learned under the man's tutelage, he did first thing he could think of, punch. The punch connected, but at a cost, the cost was his life.

Upon impact pain, unimaginable pain shot up his arm to the rest of body, every bone in his body shattering to pieces, like glass. He screamed.

The black clad figure pointed his blade at the screaming man's skull, and thrust it downwards, while saying, "Shut up." Then moved on.

As he reached where the water's edge would have been he spotted two figure lying on the ground, unmoving. Out of curiosity he moved closer.

Upon closer inspection, he realized that the red one was the one he that gave him the location of where the four of them were. As he touched the body seeing if there was a pulse, he found none.

"He's dead," he said, "Interesting."

Looking at the second body, he noticed the slow, rise and fall of the chest.

'So this one killed him. Hmm…' he thought to himself.

He then noticed a seal pattern on the person's abdomen. 'A seal…'

Upon further inspection of the seal, he realized what it contained. 'So that is where you've been hiding...had I known I would have come to you sooner.'

He then brought out a scroll, from seemingly, out of thin air, unrolled it and then placed the still living body on the scroll.

"Fuuin," he said. And the living body was sealed away to preserve it, and its life. He then noticed the two blades, both had been shattered, finally both could no longer take the strain. He picked up the pieces and stored them too in the scroll. Looking around and noting nothing more of interest, he rolled up the scroll, then it vanished as if it were never there.

He walked through the town until he reached the town square, where all the remaining people had gathered, tending to the injured.

The locals wearily looked at him, until he stopped in the middle of them all. He scanned the people, he saw many injured, Out of the thousands that had once lived in the town only a handful survived, there were some men who were out of place, but they did not matter. One of whom had long white hair, and wore geta sandals, with a big scroll on his back.

'That one is an odd one.' he thought.

Then with a wave of his hand he summoned the bodies of the four that at one point in time called him teacher, master, sensei. The four bodies appeared before him lying down, as if nothing had happened to them, as if they were sleeping. With another wave of his hand the monstrosities, pirates, bandits, and rogues that were part of the attack were banished, the only traces of their being there were the blood stains and the loss of life among the populace.

The people stared at what he had done. Not even the famed ninjas could do what he had done as far as they were concerned.

Before anyone could do anything, spoke, "You have fought well. I am sorry about the lives that were lost. But you who have survived, continue to live, do not mourn them, for they have gone on to happier place. Do not let their sacrifices be in vain, live. Yes, do not forget to live. I arrived when the tide of the battle was turned by one young man. Some of you must have noticed him. He fought the four leaders and won. But due to his injuries I have taken the liberty of sending him to a place where he can rest. And maybe someday return to you. His name I know not. He wore no symbol. But I will tell you this. He was, and is a hero."

He then turned to the direction of one of the gates of the town, but before he took one step, someone decided to speak up.

"Thank you, and could you thank him for us as well?" a man with his arm in a sling asked.

"It would be my pleasure." The figure said before he walked off, and then out of the town.

A citizen who followed him out the gate could not see hide or hair of him. He had vanished without a trace.

Back with the citizens, one of the men, the young man had helped earlier recalled what little he remembered of his savior.

"There was two of him, he had this foxy grin. Most of him was covered in this cloak he even had a hood on. I think I saw a lock of hair poking out, blond I believe."

Another man, told of what he remembered, "As I saw one of him kick up one of the bandits, part of his hood slipped, he had blue eyes."

Another man told what he recalled, "He grinned at me reassuringly that everything would be ok before rushing to the docks, he had these three birthmarks on each cheek. He he."

Somehow those that were hidden who saw the true events of the attack could not remember what they had seen. The words spoken by the man in black to them were the truth, as their memory could not prove otherwise.

The people collectively agreed that they would rebuild and live on in their town, in memory of the sacrifice of many of theirs, and of the bravery of their one blond, blue eyed, whiskered hero.

The black clad figure appeared in the middle of a room with a spiral pattern depicting the different elements on the floor. He exited the room and walked until he reached what appeared to be an infirmary, on one of the beds inside there was a scroll, he unrolled it and unsealed the body that lay within.

Stripping his patient off what little he was wearing he place in under the covers of the bed. He snapped his fingers and all sorts of medical equipment were scattered around his bed, tubes and the like were attached to the young man on the bed.

Pulling down the blanket exposing the visible seal, the black clad man thrust one hand into the center of the seal, and as quickly as it went in it came out holding onto a small fox with nine bushy tails.

The small fox was unconscious and he continued to carry the small thing even as he left the infirmary. He kept on walking until he reached his destination.

It was a room, another white room, this one seemingly having no walls, no ceiling, and no door the portal in which he entered from was just not there.

With one hand he flung the fox up into the air, which promptly landed on its head, hard.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?! THAT HURT LIKE A BITCH! WHY THE HELL IS MY VOICE ALL SQUEEKY??" panic had set in, "WHY…"

He was interrupted by the creepiest and most sadistic pair of eyes it had ever set its eyes on, and with a voice to match.

"Hello young one. So that was where you were hiding all this time. Its been years since I we last saw each other. I distinctly remember telling you to come home."

"Ah, well, you see…"

"I am in no mood for your excuses. Now tell me the real reason behind your not doing as you are told."

"Well, uhm… I got lost..?"

"Not good enough."

"I got side tracked..?"

"Nope. Wrong answer."

"Uh, I…uh…well, there was this human, who uh…you know…err…"

The smile that was on the man's face was the creepiest thing the fox had ever seen in its millennia of existence.

"Eep! I couldn't help myself! Okay! I'm not an emotionless piece of fur ya know! I got feelings, emotions, and urges! I was young! I was lonely! I let myself go! Ya happy now! Huh? Huh? HUH?"

The man frowned at such a display of disrespect. He pointed a finger at the little fox. The fox subsequently followed the finger's movement. The man sharply pointed his finger to the right, and the body of the fox followed. The fox was flung at blindingly fast speeds in one direction. Until he appeared from the man's left, then zoomed even faster towards the right yet again.

"PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASSSSSSSSSSEEEEEEE STOOOOOOOOOOOP"

After a few more minutes of zooming from one end of infinity to the other the fox halted its zooming in front of the now smirking man.

"Learned your lesson?"

"Yes! Next time, I'll leave you a note!"

"Have it your way…"

"Oh shIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

After a few more minutes of zooming.

"And now?"

"Yes! Yes! For the love of all that is unholy! No more please! I might lose a tail after another round the world."

"So…What have you learned?"

"To follow your instructions."

"And..?"

"To personally tell you if I plan on doing something stupid…again…"

"Good. You are free to roam around home, until our guest wakes up."

The fox looks at the man, then asks, "Who?"

The man answers, "Why, your former prison of course." Then he vanishes from the room, to go wherever it is he, the man, needs to be. Out into the world seeking his wayward creations.

Meanwhile the fox, after finally finding one of the many exits from the room, decided to walk around the place, not having seen it for more than ten thousand years.

As he reached the roof and gazed on out, he noticed that not much has changed from the place of his birth.

He was standing on the roof of a fortress that was perched on the top of a mountain, around the mountain was a dense jungle, not a forest a jungle, complete with beasts, and swamps, and marshes, and the like. Beyond, and going around this jungle was a desert, a desert with not a single oasis, just sand, sand and more sand, along with monsters living in it, beneath the dunes. Beyond the desert was a thick forest, with trees whose tops were just a few hundred feet below the clouds. And beyond and around this forest was a cliff with a sheer drop, it went straight down into, if one were to fall all the way down they would reach a body of water, black water, and if one were to be able to swim downwards, into the deeper and darker depths, one would eventually come surface into a void, a space of black, a space of seemingly nothing.

Back to what could be seen on the surface, the cliff is covered by a dense fog which never touched the forest, it never went beyond the cliff. If one were able to fly through the fog, one would eventually find themselves, in the sky above the clouds. But diving below the clouds one would see the world.

The foot of the mountain up until the beginning of the fog could be seen from up on the roof.

Once the fox was had assured itself that home was still home, it left the roof in search of the infirmary. Once there, it entered, and hopped onto a seat beside the bed of his former prison, and promptly fell asleep.