Disclaimer: Naruto, and all characters are the property of Masashi Kishimoto. I own nothing, save for my OC's. They're worthless enough for me to own :/
Chapter 1:
The human masses converged down the steely mainstreet of Amegakure no Sato, mindlessly trudging below a battered networks of pipes. Hundreds of shoddy straw sandals smattered across the saturated concrete beneath, tossing globules of foul runoff water into the air. Only beneath the rusted tubing were the sullen streets safe from the iron grey rain, the steel bullets that relentlessly hammered down upon the population. The dull cacophony of sandals and the thip thip of rain ricocheting off sheet metal and concrete blurred the senses into a depressing slurry of greys, rust and damp cold. The people, despite having adapted to the ruthless rainstorms, naturally took sanctuary beneath the pipes, crossing the streets only when perpendicular piping provided protection. An oppressive air bore down upon their slumped shoulders and listless gazes as each individual simply followed the mass ahead conjoining onto larger crowds, a braindead network comparable to simple bloodflow.
Amongst the scrabbling rabble of bland faces, muted murmurs and tattered clothes, a peculiar sapphire haired girl shadowed an obnoxiously bright redheaded woman and a white haired young boy.
Stormy amber eyes cut into the pair as the tiny orphan girl skilfully flitted between the arterial civilian hoard pumping onwards beneath the pipes. Her pale, slim face shimmered beneath a thin veil of water and drenched locks. Within the sodden girl's narrowed eyes, one would not find the sparkle of youthful innocence that emanated exclusively from childhood. No, one would find only an icy, calculating focus as those very eyes locked on to a small mesh bag hanging lazily from the red haired target's grasp.
Even at such a young age, the girl's affinity for stealth could rival that of a seasoned genin. Maintaining varying patterns of distance and carefully ensuring to drop her gaze after a few moments at a time helped to shake off that damnable human sixth sense of feeling watched. Misdirection and maintaining a low profile whilst planning an approach is the key to daylight larceny, after all.
The redhead in front carrying the bag provided a suspiciously simple mark. Most couples would carry anything of worth in the hand between them, providing a more difficult target for the plague of starving orphans that Amegakure seemed to house in abundance. This woman's gait was just too carefree.
Any other day, the striking orphan girl would have serious doubts about tackling the duo. Many shinobi within the village were tasked with posing as a mark to scout out the local opportunistic orphans. The children would usually get caught then dragged off into the Barracks to be conscripted. To those children caught out of the loop, the spartan food supplied daily, easy access to safe water sources and a warm bunk and a roof overhead offered solely to trainees would ensure the orphans followed without much of an effort, a few choice words and perhaps some dried rations to tempt them.
For orphans in the know, the Barracks was the place that haunted their every waking moment.
The means to survive. What was less known to any fresh orphan was that those who were dragged off to serve were never heard of again. If an orphan paid enough attention and avoided conscription for long enough, they would learn through the mutterings of civilians about how the conscripted were sent to war after a meagre month or two of training. Always followed by a "good riddance" or some other venomous words.
They tended to learn that something was off during the bi-weekly funeral procession. A morbid parade of open coffins down the main street tended to offer an insight into the shinobi life, were they shrewd enough to see it.
'The means to survive.' The mantra ran through the girl's mind as she bit her lip, a nervous tick she could never shake off. Getting caught would mean her demise through conscription and this woman was an enigma. The risk was too high. The girl's stomach growled lightly, hunger, her hands began to quiver with the weakness a couple days without food brought. The easy mark ahead could be a gift from Kami herself or a ticket towards a forced shinobi life. Another growl and the girl made up her mind.
Shinobi, despite the tremendous differences between each in terms of build, posture and attitude would always show at least the slightest signs of physical superiority over civilians. A year and a bit of careful analysis of the general shinobi pool and on the fly escapes from them had hammered these observational lessons into the shrewd young girl's mind. It wasn't long before she could read the signs of an undercover shinobi. They could slump and pull off the general civilian posture easily enough, some could even lead an orphan into conversation without giving away their roots. No, it would be the lean curves of developed muscle, the occasional scar marring their faces, necklines and hands and the rough callouses that decorated the inside of their fingers and palms. No sign was perfect however, the local farmers showed many, if not all of them.
A farmer's eyes however, wouldn't constantly pan over their surroundings, evaluating everything and everyone in sight. Their gaze wouldn't need to be hidden from. The girl shook herself from her musings. None of the signs were apparent on this woman. Yet to be a woman in Amegakure and to carry oneself in such an open manner was foolish-
-the odd couple halted. Her eyes snapped open. She stifled a gasp as she was cut from her musing.
'Idiot!' She hissed inside her mind as she had stopped dangerously close to the couple. She had stopped as the couple did, a suspicious action that would have any alert shinobi dragging her towards the Barracks for attempted larceny. They knew the drill. Paranoia set in as scenarios of the woman dragging her towards the cursed place filled her mind. She tensed, her throat dry as she prepared to run. She could berate herself about it later, she had to move! A bump on her shoulder from behind caught her off guard and she stumbled. Panicking, she opened her eyes as her heart thundered,
''Watch it, brat.'' mumbled a passing man ambling past her.
Her pulse slowed as she tried to remember how to breathe. She refocussed upon her mark only to be left watching in utter confusion as the woman ahead handed the bag to the child she was with. The redhead stepped out from underneath the dry sanctuary of the pipe into the open, baring herself to the thunderous rainstorm above.
''Mother, its raining there! What are you doing?'' The small boy, no older than nine, looked out from behind a mop of pure white hair at his mother who dropped to her knees in the open part of the of the street, her hair instantly plastered to her soft face as the rain formed an icy halo around her silhouette.
She smiled as her gleaming violet eyes shone against her pale ivory skin. She caught her son's shining indigo eyes from beneath his fringe. Placing her fingers around her eyes, she giggled, motioning to the shy boy that she had caught a rare glimpse of his eyes.
''I see you!'' she cooed softly. She opened her arms outwards to goad the boy out into the rain, her plain clothing darkening as the rain took it's toll.
''Come, my Nagato! Everybody's so gloomy today! We can't have this weather getting the good people down, can we now, my little Uzumaki?'' Her mellow voice softly strummed the sapphire girl's heartstrings the slightest crack formed on her porcelain mask, the tiniest corner of her mouth curved into a stoic half-smile. A warm feeling ballooned within her chest before a bitter stab of something nasty punctured it. The woman ushered the boy into the pouring rain. Anonymous faces stared at the couple with incredulity, a few even stopping next to the orphan girl to watch the spectacle.
The boy chuckled and spluttered as he ran to his mother, a mixture of confusion and bubbling excitement. The bag dropped, forgotten on childish impulse. With a strong tug, Nagato felt his shoulders raise as his mother brought him upwards into a tight hug, the pair chuckling like children as she brought his cheek against hers.
Warmth flushed through Nagato's freezing skin and bedraggled hair as he felt her lips touch against his cheek. He felt himself raise upwards.
''Mother! What are you-''
Questions became excited squeals as the laughing woman raised the boy above her head and spun him around, her long wet hair spiralled outwards as her ankle-length tan dress began to fan outwards with the motion. The young boy above squealed with delight amongst the endless droplets of rain.
''Faster, Mother!'' Laughed the child, screaming out as the giggling woman holding him up twirled faster and faster. Her eyes were closed and her round face was plastered with the permanent smile that shone through her pretty features as she laughed warmly. She brought Nagato down and threaded her nimble fingers between his, their chilled digits warming at the contact. She led the elated child into a nimble dance as their feet drowned in the deep rivers of cold water pooling on the stony street.
From beneath the pipes on either side of the street, a couple of cheers and smatterings of laughter rippled through the crowds that stopped to observe the spectacle. The people seemed to lighten up as they saw the dancing couple, energetic and happy despite the iron rain. The young girl couldn't stop but feel a quickening of her pulse as her heart raced. Another shrill bubble of warmth ballooned within her chest at such a sight before a gurgle from the pit of her stomach made her bite her lip. The bag.
She grasped the mesh and spun to run towards the nearest alleyway before a foot dug deep into her ribs. The air in her little lungs left her mouth in a vaporous mist. Her spine smashed into the water and concrete of the sodden slabs in the centre of the street. Her flesh froze beneath her tattered tunic as she bounced across the flooded concrete, the icy rainwater biting through her meagre clothing.
An average looking man stood over the young orphan. Dark eyes bore into hers as his sallow mouth twisted into a dark snarl.
''That bag doesn't belong to you, you little wretch!'' He roared, tendrils of spittle strung between his teeth, ''damned thieving orphans! Times are hard enough without your kind!'' A warm wetness smattered across the young girl's face as a thick globule of yellowed saliva bubbled down her cheek.
''You there, woman!'' The man demanded, his words grated against his husky voice. Ice flooded the young girl's veins. Her heart stopped as she realised the lovely lady would know of her attempted larceny. A strange new feeling punctured her chest as her heavy heart turned to lead. She tried. Oh, she tried to stop the overwhelming force of her jaw wobbling to stop. Her eyes grew warm and watery as her vision began to blur. She didn't even notice her freezing knuckles twist into white ivory as she gripped the bag with a death grip, her teeth threatened to bite through the ripe flesh of her soft lip.
The happy tone of the moment evaporated as she heard dark murmurs throughout the crowd about 'her kind'. She could hear soft footprints begin to approach as she turned her gaze to the floor, wishing she could just melt into the ground. Like a shinobi. She wanted something, anything to happen just to be able to get away. Whether it was the thumping humiliation in front of all of the crowd on the streets or the fiery pain pulsing throughout her ribs and spitting up her spine she found herself unable to move. The woman would be mad, the shinobi would come and she would be forced to into the Barracks.
''Oh? What's the problem here, mister?'' That warm voice pulsated softly through the rain. The young girl honestly felt the atmosphere warm a few degrees.
''This!'' Sneered the man, the young girl caught a sight of the pure venom lacing his ghastly gaze, slimy snakes slithered out his mouth as he spat on the girl again. His eyes honed in on the girl's balled fist curled tightly around the bag on the concrete. He raised a heavy foot-
-CRUNCH!
The girl's world erupted in pain as her freezing knuckles splintered under the impact. Eyes wide, a silent scream of agony erupted from her ragged lungs as every nerve below her right wrist exploded, snarling pain savaged and clawed at her pulverised bones and grated flesh.
''Your bag, woman! That orphan tried to take it!'' The man paused to stare at the woman, his shoulders heaved with fury alongside his heavy pants before he turned his blazing eyes onto the girl, ''you deserve everything you get! You and your kind are nothing but parasites! We work hard for everything we've got and you think you're in the right to come and take it as you plea-!''
''-Sir! Is that any way to treat a child!?''
The world stopped for the teary young girl. This was... New? An adult coming to her defence? Impossible. She had been caught as red handed and the pulverised flesh she once called her right hand. Silently she pondered if she had passed out without noticing and had fallen into a dream. She closed her eyes as her mind rushed to conceive when the seam between the harsh reality of situation and the bitter sweet embrace of her imagination occurred.
A sudden warm presence enveloped the girl as she felt someone move close to her right side. A gentle touch forced her to flinch as the pain in her right hand snarled as what felt like nimble fingers began wrapping something soft around her damaged extremity. Daring to crack an eye open, the girl saw a clean white medical cloth embossed with gibberish symbols wrapped neatly around her ruined knuckle bone. A strange pulse of what could only be described as warm cooling shut off the pain completely.
Looking up through teary, bleary eyes, a watery image of the smiling woman graced her mind through the rain. Softly the woman began to hum some melodic, unknown tune as she finished up binding the angry flesh on the girl's hand and produced a damp cloth from the bag between them. She began to gently wipe the saliva off the girl's blushing cheeks. The orphan breathed in an exotic, salty tang that the woman radiated, she hadn't even noticed herself moving into the redhead's gentle touch.
Her very skin danced at the soft touch the woman graced her with. Her eyes fell heavy as the shock of the situation began to take it's toll upon her tired body.
''Woman, you must be mad to help her. She just tried to steal your property!'' The man was shaken by what had transpired. Orphans were the worst creatures to lurk upon Amegakure and yet here this woman, who had a son to feed no less, was helping the very thief who had tried to steal from her.
The Second Great Shinobi War hit the village hard. Four of the five great shinobi villages surrounded the landlocked Amegakure and they all seemed to see the central land fit for a free-for-all battleground. Close to an entire generation of young adults had been lost defending their lands from overwhelming numbers of foreign shinobi who felt it right to murder the local shinobi and each other the Land of Rain's soil. The situation was desperate and pointless. Amegakure's forces had been steamrollered until one man, their new leader, Hanzō of the Salamander, had rallied his bedraggled forces and almost single handedly destroyed platoon after platoon of foreigners, driving them away from their favourite battlegrounds.
The war still raged on however, the deaths of so many young warriors, both ninja and parents, had left a sad legacy of orphans numbering in the hundreds and refugees from the settlements outside the walls of Ame that the already crowded population of civilians had to live alongside. They were despised. Despite the fact that the patriotic shinobi had sacrificed themselves to protect their land, their offspring were left homeless and starving. To say that food, water and shelter were scarce would be an understatement.
Yet here this woman kneeled next to a peculiar orphan, a thief no less, helping her. The once cheery crowd could now only watch in dumbfounded amazement.
The woman's perpetual smile shone down upon the traumatised girl as she breathed a few airy words to her, ''My, aren't you pretty, hm? May I ask your name, little one?''
With a hiccup, the girl obliged, ''K-Konan.''
''A lovely name indeed! It suits you.'' the woman's motherly smile broadened into a mischievous grin, ''Now, may I ask why you wanted my bag?''
Konan looked down to the ground in misery. She bit down on her lip to keep the tears back when just, as if by some kind of omen, her stomach produced a large gurgle.
The woman let out a light laugh at the girl's expense, only to reach into the bag and produce a small sudachi and a few damp onigiri.
''I'm sorry about your hand, little one. Though maybe now it may be better to ask people for things instead of stealing? Such a pretty girl couldn't possibly have too much trouble charming people just for a little food, hm?''
Konan pouted as an angry blush flared across her cheeks at the melodic words.
''Quiet, aren't you, hm?'' The woman giggled as she placed her forefingers beneath Konan's chin and raised her face to face her.
''You know, it's polite to thank-''
''-S-sorry, mam. Th-thank you.''
Another light chuckle rang throughout the air as the woman stood with her bag in hand.
''Aha! There we have it! You have manners befitting of a lady, I see. Just a tad shy, hm? Well, I must apologise but it's time for me to get my Nagato home.''
The boy who had stood in quiet wonder blinked as his mother touched his fingers.
Konan barely managed to keep her mouth closed as the couple began to move off. Wide eyed, she scampered back beneath the pipeline into the crowd, who ignored her in order to openly gawk at the the lady with the beautifully strange red hair. With a silent whisper to herself, she promised that she would never forget the woman who had helped her. A slight prod at her right hand wrapped in the strange bandage revealed that her hand was completely numb.
Konan turned to run down an alleyway when she stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of a large mob marching down the centre of the street. Her heart stopped. Shinobi.
x
Nagato's head spun as his mother gently twirled him into a light spin. He chortled with childish laughter, his chest inflated with excitement and pride before his wet fingers slipped and he fell backwards.
He held his breath as he braced himself, knowing his backside would hit the floor.
With a gruff thud, the boy found himself still on his feet, mostly.
He blushed shyly before remembering how his mother would act. He turned as he closed his eyes with a smile, ready to thank whichever stranger saved him from his fall.
His breath coughed outwards as a heavy hand pushed into his chest, sending him backwards into his mother's grasp. She dropped her knees to the ground, grasping at the boy as he slammed into her chest, protectively snaking her arms around his shoulders and chest as she glared upwards at the hulking figure, her pretty face stained with anger and worry.
''Move civilians. Lord Hanzō will not tolerate such insubordination!'' Cracked the stranger's muffled voice.
Fear thumped through Nagato's chest as he caught his breath, pumping adrenaline through his veins. Shakily, he looked upwards and stifled a gasp, for fear of further enraging the man.
The hulking silhouette nearly blocked out the street before them as he marched forward, the rain seemingly avoiding him. Behind him stood a squad of huge men, all draped in cream-yellow bodysuits overlaid with bulky purple flak jackets. From the nostrils downwards, each man's face was hidden behind blackened respirators, their hairlines hidden by steely Ame forehead protectors, the lined metal plates were dappled with blotches of water. All one could see of their faces were the punishing glares emitted from their tiny, sharp, beady eyes that cut straight through the tomato haired pair in front of them.
''I. Said. Move. Civilians.'' Spat the titan in front of them.
Nagato felt himself being wrenched to the side as his mother dragged him back towards the dry haven of the side street. The pressure within his chest that thrombed at his heart deflated slightly as he realised the man's needle eyes were not glaring at him. Yet it returned in full fury the second he caught the glare directed at his mother.
''Apologies, shinobi.'' He heard her whisper as she moved away from the incoming squad, hoping against anything that they would escape any repercussions. Nagato noticed that the cheery crowd that had filled the streets had all dispersed within an instant. The thief had vanished alongside the food his mother had been kind enough to give her.
A murmur emitted from within the squad of shinobi. Upon the order, a shinobi dashed forward and grabbed Nagato's mother by the scruff of her neck. With a pained cry, she snapped backwards into the shinobi's rugged arms, releasing Nagato from her grasp on impulse.
''Mother!'' Nagato wailed, his little voice ran raw. Panic surged throughout his veins, he wanted to act, he wanted to grab his mother back from the titan and keep her safe. Yet fear ran ice through his body, paralysing the boy to the spot.
''Quiet down, little one.'' Came his mother's whisper, ''just keep quiet and do everything these shinobi ask, hm?.''
The man held his mother tightly with one arm tight across her chest and began running his free arm down her figure, patting at pockets and grabbing at her clothing. Her face flushed pink slightly as the shinobi's enthusiastic hands ran riot over her body as he searched her. She stood firm, her jaw clenched firmly in silent protest, trying to keep a straight face and maintain a strong image for her quivering son before her.
'Kami, I wish I told Nagato about Hanzō...' She thought, angrily wincing as the shinobi ran a hand higher up inside her left thigh.
'If I kept a weapon there, it'd be in your eyeball by now. Pervert.' She thought coolly, only hoping her previous words would contain her son as he witnessed the her humiliation.
Nagato's drenched skin crawled at the sight. His little fists balled as his fragile, frozen knuckles threatened to burst through his skin. His teeth clenched tightly as he felt his eyes sting violently. He had heard about nasty men who did things to women but seeing this man holding his mother like this...
''Safe.'' The shinobi muttered, passing Nagato's mother towards the squad behind him. The shinobi behind loosened their formation before closing in around her.
''Here, civilian.'' He continued, his harsh tone dimmed somewhat, ''Lord Hanzō wishes to speak to you too.''
Nagato stood firm as the titan hulked forwards, powerful, unknown feelings boiled with in chest that he would later learn to be of bloodlust, disgust and pure unadulterated fury as they began to erupt inside his little mind, seething from his clenched teeth as his fringe parted slightly. The shinobi tensed as he caught a glimpse of the boy's eyes as three dark black rings began to form over the boy's corneas and sclerae, the violet corneas merging with his sclerae into a lifeless white.
The rain shifted away from the child as a pale red aura traced his sihouette, a dark crimson colour bled outwards from the top of his scalp, staining his previously white locks with the furious red colour of his mother's hair.
''All of you,'' the tiny boy growled, turning himself to face between the titan and his squad. His new found voice and demeanour betrayed his tiny frame and age, his deadened eyes cutting into the shinobi and his squad, ''leave. My mother-''
The titan's eyes widened as he sensed a familiar influx of chakra surge from the brat before him.
''Chakra moulding? At such a young-''
''-ALONE!'' Nagato clenched his eyes shut as he threw his palms outwards to the sides, facing the titan and the squad. He desperately wanted them away from his mother. Whomever Lord Hanzō wasn't worth his mother's presence if his men did this. Something thick churned within his stomach, he felt sick and invigorated at the same time. He felt a detached giddiness as the roiling energy warmed him from the core, idly he noted that his hair felt dry. The thickness surged outwards from deep within him, energising the flesh it travelled through before he felt small, stinging pinpricks along his forearms and hands as the raw energy pulsed outwards.
The stone floor cracked and cratered beneath him, a sphere of force whizzed around him and shot outwards. The titan caught it on the chin and catapulted up and away, crashing in to a pipe above the street, before sliding down slowly and crashing into the floor in a lifeless heap. A shinobi shaped dent remained in the pipe before a jet of superheated steam blasted out in furious clash against the thunderous rain. The front row of shinobi from the squad braced themselves and were pushed backwards slightly, before one flew forwards at the young offender.
Nagato winced as he felt his ribs collapse from the force of the punches. His breath had left him as he barely felt the men's hands grab at his pockets and clothing, before he was dragged over the watery stone towards the rest of the squad. He struggled to keep his eyes open as he felt the ice water drown his clothing, shuddering as it ran it's cold fingers down his back as the cold air bit at his numbed senses and skin. The pinpricks along his arms suddenly inflamed as if on fire and his eyes turned into molten coals within their sockets. That strange power, it felt like all of it rent his energy from his body and left burns from whence it came.
''Mother..'' He whimpered, ''mother, run. Please, I don't want them to hurt you too. Not anymor-'' he lost his senses to darkness.
''The boy is unarmed, Lord Hanzō.'' Cracked the voice of the shinobi heaving the beaten newly christened redhead towards the squad.
''Very well. I will see him then. It appears the Uzumaki here has some explaining to do.''
The front row opened up to reveal a huge man within the shinobi, standing over Nagato's mother. He looked down at her from within a bulky facial respirator that carried upwards over his head to form a thick helmet. The rain washed over the dark metal and down a shoulder length black rain cloak that swirled around his thick, purple flak jacket. Embossed spirals adorned his armoured breast, demonstrating his status. The man's abyssal, coal eyes leaked out pure intimidation reinforced by a deep trench of a scar that ran all the way down his cheek towards his jaw. Despite his mammoth size and armour, the deadened eyes of Hanzō betrayed the slightest tinge of fear from deep within him, his stance was stiff and his clenched fists shook. He successfully put the fear of Kami into the young woman before him who misread his posture for anger, yet any trained assassin would pay for a chance to kill such a figurehead standing how he did. His nerves were clear to those who could read a man.
Nagato's mother quickly grasped at her son, dragging the unconscious boy towards her chest as she kneeled in the deepening water, whimpering at his condition through watery eyes as the rain thundered downwards, tossing water droplets into the air as it was hit by the bullets. Her head shook side to side as her eyes locked onto her son's new visage, her lips moving in an unintelligible manner as she appeared to be telling herself something.
Hanzō had visibly tensed at her motion, his guards drew kunai and placed them against the young woman's neck. A crushing air bore down upon her, paralysing her to the ground. The man stared for a moment as the deep crimson of the boy's hair paled back into the snowy white he observed initially.
''Another movement like that, Uzumaki Yumeka and I'll have your neck slit. You and the boy would provide Ibuse a good meal.''
Yumeka drew Nagato closer to her chest,
''You know me?'' she whispered quietly, failing to hide her fear. She went to swallow despite her paper dry throat before realising how tight against her windpipe the sharpened edges of the kunai rested, clenching her face tightly and letting out a small cry as she felt a few lines draw across her throat.
''I know everyone who resides in and around this village, you are no exception. As to why an unregistered chakra moulder, with a dojutsu and... Whatever else that... Bloodline was, no less, is within my walls is the matter at hand! Papers! Now.''
Yumeka slowly traced her hand along her chest, withdrawing a few sodden documents from a pocket within her dress. Hanzō's shinobi snatched the papers, glaring at them as the palest of blue auras swirled around the sodden paper. Nodding, he passed them onto another who opened a vial and began blotching the paper with the clear liquid. He nodded, then handed them to Hanzō.
Hanzō scanned the papers before clenching them tight in his fist, shaking with anger.
''My village took you in, Yumeka. A refugee directly after Uzushiokagure's destruction. You arrived nine years and four months ago with child. I've been kind to you, I allowed my administration to grant you a full citizenship, I allowed you to purchase property just outside of our walls, I even agreed to keep you out of the war because of your condition and under the pretence that you weren't trained by your clan to fight. You told us that much much yourself, you said that you weren't a kunoichi. Yet here, right now your son has activated an unknown dojutsu, a bloodline and performed ninjutsu! Do you expect me to believe what you said?!''
Yumeka's blood ran cold as she felt his fingers grip her chin tightly, with a whimper, her face was forced upwards to lock eyes with his, she could see the tiniest hint of hunger within the shinobi leader's eyes.
''I-I've never known.. He's never d-done this before...''
Hanzō glared, his grip tightening.
Nagato's eyes fluttered open slightly as his blurred vision captured blotches of familiar red. His spinning mind could only comprehend patchy sound as his small body was paralysed by the intense pain emanating from his liquefied ribs.
''T-the recruiters t-tested me...'' she whimpered, pressing the pained words through her trembling lips, the ice cold temperature began to set into her body, inflicting icy shivers throughout her, ''th-they said I couldn't m-mould chakra t-too.''
She wailed as his clutch on her chin tightened before feeling the kunai retract, much to her comfort. She tightened her grip ever so slightly on Nagato.
Hanzō sighed as he pulled himself up, he pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed, ''Yes, this much is true. You are of no use to our forces.'' His gaze turned towards Nagato as his sharp eyes gleamed with pride, ''your son however, may provide us the means to overcome this war, both internal and external. That, or he will become a danger to us all. You have two choices, Yumeka. You and your son will come with me. He is to become a shinobi. His ability and my training will provide this village with a shinobi it greatly needs-''
''-And what if he doesn't want to become a shinobi!? I won't have my little one become forced into a lifetime of servitude like that!'' Hot passion fuelled Yumeka's words. Gone was the angelic voice, replaced with the fiery blooded fury credited to those of the Uzumaki lineage.
''I do not overlook things, Yumeka!'' Hanzō's dominating voice dropped a mountain upon Yumeka, ''I would never allow such a powerful shinobi to be created without a leash of some sort.''
''A-a leash?'' Yumeka's eyes blazed as she began to stand, Hanzō's guards brought their weapons up, only to stop in cold fear as the women they surrounded began to leak the purest of KI.
Hanzō placed a mountainous hand upon her shoulder and forced her back into a kneel, a little more gently than would be expected, as if he were handling a hot coal. His voice softened slightly, ''you, his mother. I keep you safe and provided for and he will stay in check. Your other alternative is execution. Such potential cannot go unchecked. With the state of the village, he could cause a revolt.''
Hanzō dropped back down to Yumeka's level, the determination from behind his eye grew fierce as his fingers clenched the wet concrete beneath them, ''I'm a harsh man, Yumeka. I have to be. I have to make these decisions to maintain this village's safety. I want to protect this place, our home, yet as strong and powerful as I am, I cannot do it alone. I managed to hold off four different nations and my shinobi followed me with fire in their eyes, we pushed all of them back and regained much of our lands. Yet what do we return to? Mutterings. The villagers have lost too much. The ground we recovered is ravaged, the blood shed by our own and the enemy have tainted the soil, the shinobi we lost, mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters leave orphans which drain our resources. The people are beginning to want revolution, to rise against me but what will that achieve?'' Hanzō kneeled over Yumeka, his masked face came close to hers, their foreheads touched as he ran his palms across her hands.
"Nothing, they would weaken our village with the infighting, we would be destroyed. Imagine Yumeka, your son's power, imbued with the knowledge and lessons a shinobi only such as I can offer. With power like his by my side I could do what I've done once already. I could reunite our shinobi and finish this damned war. The great villages know I'm one man, they send spies to find my location and fight on other parts of our soil. With your son, we would be unstoppable, the treasonous mutterings within our walls would be halted as they listen to tales of our victories, Ame would be saved!''
He stood back up and extended a hand down towards Yumeka and her stirring child.
''So, Uzumaki Yumeka? Your choice?''
x
Konan sped out of a side alley, down a chipped set of concrete stairs, oblivious to how the heavily built up shinobi outlets and shops of the main streets of central Amegakure quickly degenerated into nothing but dirt and hastily assembled shacks, the chilling, sodden dirt underfoot drenching her calves as she ran. Without any pipelines above roofing off these open areas, Konan felt an iron wave of ice rain slap against her skin. She clutched the dampening food in her hands as her racing mind forced her back to the angelic lady and her son. Amegakure shinobi were angry and frustrated. They fought until their last breath and had probably buried more of their own than they had killed of their enemies. Despite their victories, they could only watch as their once prosperous farming land fell to the stench of decay. Then that woman, to Konan, the one adult since, since... Before a warm home and two smiling faces... Had gone and provided herself as an open target to vent the shinobi's frustrations upon.
She rounded around a few collapsed shacks and debris, probably a little cottage in a better time, to come across a sheet of corrugated steel that lay across of what appeared to be a huge section of cut-off pipe, that led underground. She had been lucky to find this place and not get caught. Outside of the alleyway, about five hundred metres after the pipe's entrance, began the shinobi training grounds. It was rare that she'd use this entrance as it was out in the open and so damn close to the shinobi but it was the fastest way to get in from the main streets and time was not on her side.
Konan nimbly slid between the sheet and pipe and wormed herself into the opening. She paid no attention to the freezing, festering water running along the floor as she wriggled and writhed through the sloped cylinder, the usual biting cold that clamped her lungs tight went completely ignored due to just under two years of being constantly cold and soaked. She forcefully maintained the precious gifts from the woman in her damaged right hand by shakily hanging them in a small bundle of cloth off of her wrist, keeping them above the festering liquid. She did not however, come off well from it, the sloppy piping caused many slips inflicting an alarming amount of angry bumps and bruises on her undamaged arm all the way up to her elbow. Her face remained impassive.
Finally, she nimbly dropped down into what appeared to be blank emptiness. A scratching noise rang throughout the area as a small light flickered in the form of a match as a figure approached.
''Ugh, Konan? That you there?'' From within the inky blackness, the small match-light revealed a shock of wild, orange hair. The light came closer, revealing a pair of sleepy hazel-brown eyes and the widest grin imaginable.
''Mother of!- You got that in one day? Alright, chow time! Begging all day can suck it, we're eating like king's tonight!'' The boy, it was revealed, bubbled in excitement at the pure prospect of simple food, bouncing on his heels as his now wide and very awake eyes shot between Konan and the musty food. She levelled a glare at the boy, whether it was his ignorance of their benefactor's plight or due to whatever... That... Verbal diarrhoea that came out of his mouth was the cause for her ire was up for debate. Yahiko froze upon getting, as he dubbed it, 'The Glare of Testicular Destruction' an ability that he swore was imbued into every female upon being delivered into the world. It was a trait that had taken him far too long to catch on to after meeting the usually impassive girl that, lest he shut up, fire and brimstone would be rained down upon him.
...Then he would be kicked in the family jewels.
With a strangled gulp, he watched as the girl placed the meagre food upon a tattered cloth covering a small crate that was barely distinguishable within the darkness, before uncharacteristically grabbing his wrist and pulling. Hard.
''K-Konan?''
''Not now, Yahiko. We have to help a friend.''
x
High above the crowded centre streets of Amegakure, upon one the tallest spires, the rain shimmered merrily around a transparent figure. Had any shinobi gifted with one of the legendary dojutsu focused hard enough from a distance, they would have maybe noticed the slightest of distortions between the path of the falling rain and as to where it landed upon one of the highest spires in village. Only the slightest shift within the precipitation indicated any form of movement as the figure shifted to, what one could only presume, catch a better look at an unforeseen development occurring upon the roof of a small building far below. A roof directly above a street of which none other than Hanzō of the Salamander himself stood, threatening the life out of a familiar hued redhead and her snow topped child.
...Scratch that, the kid's hair just went as red as a tomato.
''Uzumaki, maybe?'' The figure questioned no one in particular, ''I wonder...'' The thunderous rain masked a mischievous chuckle as the figure looked back towards the blobs of orange and blue on the rooftop below. ''Heh, brave little brats.''
x
''Sh-shinobi!? Konan are you-'' another glare, ''ri-right.''
The two pushed a large crate between them towards the edge of a single storied building, a weapon store, directly above Hanzō, his squad and the distressed Uzumaki. The smooth concrete of the unusual flat roof shimmered with excess water as the pair silently thanked whichever god provided the rain. The standing water ensured that the box shifted quietly and rather quickly despite its weight and size in comparison to the pair of young malnourished orphans.
''Another movement like that, Uzumaki Yumeka and I'll have your neck slit. You and the boy would provide Ibuse a good meal.''
''Bastard!'' Yahiko seethed quietly, his eyes began to brim with fiery determination. A boy of strict moral ideals, he quickly overcame little, unimportant things like fear, injuries and his own life upon learning of the woman's kindness to Konan, the woman's mistreatment below had gone on too long. Peeping into the crate as he slid the lid open slightly, he grimaced before shaking his head and facing his young accomplice, taking charge instantly over the quiet girl's personal mission. ''Well, it's no box of sharp metal things but I guess it'll do? We open it, drop the stuff and run! With luck, our friends down there will run our way in the mess and we'll get back to the hideout without getting caught. No one knows the ways out of here like we do! Sound good, Konan?''
The girl merely nodded. Her porcelain mask of a face allowed the tiniest of smiles to shine through one side of mouth and she began pushing the heavy crate again with purpose. Together, they moved the crate as close to the edge as they could get it without alerting the shinobi below. Yahiko chuckled lightly, leaning to open the crate fully and reaching in.
''Oh, I nearly forgot, you like paper, yeah? You've not been able to make those cool shapes-''
''-Origami.''
''Right, you've not been able to do your origummy anymore, have you?'' With an innocent smile, the grinning boy handed Konan a fair wad of paper. Konan blinked, looking down at the very suspicious paper as her eyes widened. Yahiko turned to face the the crate, removing the lid and sticking a weathered crow bar beneath it.
''Um... Yahiko!?''
x
''So, Uzumaki Yumeka? Your choice?''
''RUN, LADY!''
Yumeka spared a glance to the heavens above in desire to spot the owner of the holy voice of whom had given her that option, only for her eyes to explode outwards at the sheer number of explosive tags raining down upon the group. She may never had been a shinobi but nearly anyone, no matter what age, shinobi or not, could recognise an explosive tag, only an idiot- she snapped back to her senses and ran from the death trap with Nagato in her arms, diving into an alleyway to protect her son from the explosion that was sure to come.
''Ya-yahiko?'' Konan found herself practically in the air, trialling rather limply behind her mischievous friend as he charged down a set of steps.
''Hahaha! Make it rain! On your knees else we'll drop mothafuckin'... Paper. Fuck, that sounded so much better in my head..''
x
''Water style: Violent water wave!''
''Water style: Gunshot!''
Two of Hanzō's guard began blasting jutsu at the tags in the air but scattered as the huge volume of paper descended upon them. Yahiko and Konan made it to the alleyway just in time to catch a glimpse of the ninja scattering away from beneath the falling tags.
Konan had to stop and stare in wonder at the fear fluttering paper had caused. Elegant and deadly. She had to feel a little jealous.
x
Any close by genin with good ears would be able to make out the rapidly distorted rain atop of the large steeple, were they close enough. A muted, yet rambunctious chortling could be heard from the distorted rain as the figure appeared to be attempting to still itself. ''K-kami! Brats! Brats nearly took out Hanzō! Hanzō of the damn Salamander! Oh, this would make a great scene in my book! When the Snake-bastard and Princess hear about this... Hahahaha!''
x
''Urgh, h-hello?''
Yumeka looked up from beneath Nagato, she had spun mid dive to land roughly beneath him. Nagato's head spun as he looked up from his mother to see to two figures approaching him.
''H-hello?''
''Oi! Whattya doing on the floor!? We gotta go!''
Nagato's sight cleared as he focused in on what could only be described as the most obnoxious, offence-to-the-eyes-shade-of orange he'd ever had the misfortune of having burnt into his retinas. An uncomfortable feeling shifted beneath his shoulders as he felt something attempting to pull him to his feet. Yahiko stifled a laugh at poor Konan's weak attempt to lift the boy, before a deep cutting sense of guilt and frustration glazed over his eyes, a look that no child should ever wear. They were weak with hunger, he knew that. Konan was well adapted to masking things behind her next to silent demeanour but he could see her weakness within her thin, trembling limbs. Shaking his head, Yahiko hefted Nagato to his feet alongside Konan as Yumeka steadily rose from the ground.
''Search the area! Recover the Uzumaki!''
Konan and Yahiko's eyes met, the question thrown out there.
''Shortcut?''
''Shortcut.''
Eyes wide, the quartet took off, Yahiko grasped Nagato's tunic roughly as Konan took Yumeka's hand. They followed the wild orange boy as they charged deeper into the side alleys towards the orphan's hideout. The smattering of ruffled footsteps on the pipes above sent a surge of urgency throughout the group as they could feel the shinobi running around above them.
Like cornered rats, Yahiko skilfully led the group through corner after corner of dark alleyway, his well trained memory of the area enabling them to flit through the inky blackness without an issue. He began silently thanking the pipes above for completely covering them from the sky and shinobi above as he weaved around what he knew to be a set of crates ahead, before pulling Nagato down into a slide to cut through a large hole in the wall of what otherwise would be a dead end. After a few more twists, the footsteps above died off. Yahiko slammed to a stop as his eyes burned at the stinging sensation of light reaching his eyes.
Konan and Yumeka reached the pair a split second later to only to realise the issue.
''Konan... The hideout. We've gotta go out there.''
Konan blinked, straining her ears to hear the slightest sound of movement before nodding. Yahiko picked up the movement and took off down the stairs, Nagato in tow. He could hear his panicked heartbeat thump thickly, a rabid beast deep within thrashing against its ribcage of a prison. His grasp around Nagato's tunic began to turn his twisting knuckles into shiny white bone as he drew upon every last drop of energy he could spare to will his tired legs to go faster, willing himself forwards.
A lone, hulking figure watched onwards as they left, adjusting his respirator as he weaved a few lazy one handed seals, finishing with a half tiger seal as he stared at the group. He chuckled, ''Hidden Rain Secret Genjutsu: Lost in the Storm.''
The elements turned fierce. Snarling, biting and clawing rain tore at the fugitives as the howling wind hounded their eardrums. Yahiko's eyes froze over, his sense of direction fading through the freezing maelstrom and heavily impaired senses. Konan felt a strange warmth emanate from Yumeka's hand, as if some sort of warm broth ran up through her fingers, bubbling up her arm, neck and into her mind. As soon as the warmth breached her thoughts, it pulsed. Suddenly, the scene in front of her shimmered. The huge random storm that they had run into faded as if a veil had been pulled away from her eyes. Sparing a glance to Yumeka, a small shock jolted through the girl as she noticed how streaks of the woman's hair faded into a snowy white colour. Her violet eyes began to change slightly too, losing what appeared to be some redness and changing into an off blue colour. The woman had surprise slapped across her face.
''U-Uzumaki chakra?''
''This way, miss.''
Yumeka and Konan slowed as they closed in on what Konan knew to be the derelict cottage next to her, only to stifle a gasp as she saw Yahiko with Nagato continue to run full pelt towards the shinobi training grounds outside the other end of the open area.
''Hide here, miss.'' Konan stammered before turning and running towards the pair.
x
''Run, Snow-top, run!'' Yahiko blared through his tortured lungs at the trailing boy in his grasp. It had taken too long, they should be very close to the hideout by now. He passed a few ramshackle shacks that he could have been sure he passed moments ago. That, and that those shacks were mere metres away from the alleyway they had come from. Was he lost in the storm? An off tinkling reverberated along the wet ground as a sheet of shiny slivers of steel melded into the streaks of metallic rain. Sprinkling with soft clinking sounds in front of him. Yahiko's mind raced as he tried to think ahead. The hideout should only be seconds away but he hadn't accounted for being caught so early.
''Yahiko!'' Konan cried out unsure as what to had slowed the boys ahead.
Yahiko heard a muffled voice calling out illegible words as a pillar of iron grey water twisted into the sky some distance away. At the peak of the spiralling pillar, a demonic dragon face emerged from the grey water, it's skyward roar silencing the thunderous storm itself. Eyes of yellow water stared with maddened rage at Yahiko as the aquatic monster's scales bristled with the thousands of senbon that had blanketed the floor moments before. The scales shimmered and rippled within the storm, before the dragon shuddered, shooting the senbon forth.
''Down!'' Blared Yahiko, forcing his body to drop. To him, the group scattered and dived. Yahiko's teeth clamped down hard together around his tongue from the impact. Wind whistled over him as the senbon spilled across the sky, momentarily blocking out the rain. His face froze momentarily in the saturated dirt as he tasted the all too familiar taste of iron on his tongue before sharp pain seethed in his mouth.
''Come on! This way!'' He spat angrily, dragging Nagato along. Konan followed as Yumeka suddenly came to a shuddering halt.
''Nuh-naga-to...''
''MOTHER!''
Yahiko and Nagato spun to see a sad smile spread across the woman's face as patches of blotchy red ink spread across her clothing. The ink seeped around her chest and neck she fell to one knee, the torn smile across her pretty features becoming stained with the same redness, the wet rain dragged the stains down her chin and connected the sliding redness to the seeping red around her neck.
''Na- we shouldn't ha- come here. Go... Back'' a raspy cough echoed as red flecks formed a fine mist in front of her face. She slumped.
''Mo-MOTHEER! -umph!''
Yahiko forcefully grabbed the boy and turned to run back towards the alley, in a desperate attempt to flee from the monstrous dragon. With surprising speed, the child dragged the rabidly struggling boy through the driving rain before crashing face first into a purple flak jacket.
''Huh? Brats? Haha! I'm gonna make you bleed!''
Yahiko clutched his streaming nose as he glared at the shinobi through pained tears, his eyes shook with the desperation and unfairness of the situation. He suddenly noticed that there was no storm, only the usual mild to heavy rain and most importantly, no dragon. He was a while away from the hideout, having run past it a while ago, suddenly he saw Konan in the distance when he could've sworn she was next to him. Yumeka's body had vanished into thin air too. Summoning all of his braincells and intelligence, Yahiko spoke the most intelligent thing possible for him in the situation,
''Eh?''
The young shinobi before them was in his early teens at best, his face hidden behind a black mask with a bandana covering his head. A few locks of sodden brown hair stuck to his face, allowing the one visible sunken black eye, an eye brimming with supremacy and madness, to jangle it's crazy gaze over the pair. The crinkled lines that darkened his eyelids and shadowed the bags beneath them only added a renegade madness to his crazed demeanour. He stood in a wild manner, half crouched and leant forwards as if in mid jump. The rain danced and played over his attire and skin without a care in the world, mocking the two closest children as it rolled over him in an unobtainable safety. The standard armoured Ame shinobi attire that he donned with cut off sleeves appeared to bulk him out as his body, due to actual nutrition, left his arms muscled yet lean but still bulkier than Nagato and Yahiko's legs combined. The shinobi let out a blood curdling laugh as he tipped his head to the side, a wide grin visible from beneath his mask.
''Bad civilians! Could be spies... On my training ground? No, no, no, nooo...'' He snarled with a maddened frown, ''now, who to kill first?'' His eyes darted between the group before he flashed backwards, grabbing Konan by her hair. Yahiko's world slowed. A hole appeared within the still rain from where the shinobi had torn through, he watched as Konan's eyelids slowly widened as her amber eyes began to quiver in fear and surprise, her mouth began to slowly open into a small 'o' as the madman dropped into a spin around her, dropping his knee into the back of hers and tightly dragging her damaged wrist behind her opposing shoulder in a bone creaking lock. He flicked a sparkling senbon between the fingers of his free hand. His jumpy gaze captured Yahiko's eyes living their worst nightmare, his evil eye gleaming.
''Pretty girl...'' He growled, catching the words in his throat, ''DIE!''
''Calm yourself, Kirisame!'' With a resounding splash, the titanic shinobi from Hanzō's group appeared from where Konan had come from, Yumeka slumped over his shoulder. Konan gasped as she was pulled up into the air and thrown towards the other children.
''You there, Uzumaki!'' The titan's muffled voice truly betrayed the intimidation factor he could create should he remove the respirator. He could see the glazed look in the young Uzumaki's eyes showing that his genjutsu was still in effect, his mother probably looked like a bloodied pincushion to him. ''You come with us, now. We can still save your mother. Her vital organs are untouched.''
Konan remained ever the stoic child as Yahiko turned to Nagato, his shaky voice still somewhat firm despite his age and size,
''Like hell you will! Momma Uzumaki might've said you should go with em' but look at those guys! They're weird and crazy! That's like... Bad?''
Konan blinked in confusion, 'whenever did she say that?'
The pale haired boy stood in the centre, his head tilted to the floor. His ears ached and he couldn't see from within the storm. He didn't want to face the shinobi holding his mother, he could see the redness leaking from her, sliding gently down the shinobi's shoulder. His shoulders hung as Nagato and Konan moved closer to him, facing the shinobi again.
''Nagato, please. Your mother-''
''Isn't dead. She isn't dead. No she isn't.'' Evidently from behind his fringe, tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped onto the saturated soil, his little voice drowned in the deepest depths of an ocean of sorrow, ''They're gonna save her, so you can both go.''
''Don't be stupid Nagato!'' Yahiko barged in, ''we need to go, your ma said it wrong, yeah! She meant 'come with us!''
''Well I said go away.'' The boy's fists clenched as he spoke from between his teeth, his sorrow seared into burned anger.
Konan stepped closer to him, unsure of when Yumeka had said such things to the boys and it sounded off. Something to do with the funny storm, perhaps? Placing a small hand on his shoulder, leaning in shakily, she could only whisper, ''No, let's go.''
''Never,'' the he responded, his hair began to shift unnaturally against the wind, crimson began to bleed in to the white, the air began to feel heavy around him somehow, ''go- AWAY!''
His indigo eyes shot open, three black rings reforming as the entirety of his eyes turned white. The storm, to him, suddenly cleared as he felt that powerful surge run through his body again. He could save her with this power, the power that had just silenced a storm. His palms touched Nagato and Konan before-
''-ALMIGHTY PUSH!''
x
Konan cracked a bleary eye open to catch a glimpse of the murky greyness of the sky. Purple and yellow blotches stood over a red blotch. After time, another red blotch appeared, seeming to sway towards the other colours, before they all disappeared into the greyness outside of her hazy vision.
''Kirisame,'' the titan crackled, Yumeka slung over his shoulder. His other hand placed on Nagato's shoulder. The boy looked rough after using whatever jutsu he had utilised against the titanic shinobi some time ago but the older man still had the bruises and slight concussion to prove it's effectiveness, ''We'll get the Uzumaki to Lord Hanzō." He eyed Konan suspiciously, he'd noticed that she never once had been affected by his genjutsu, the blood spouting from the orange boy's face gave him an excuse to have gotten out of it, at least.
"That girl, she must've received shinobi training from somewhere to detect and dispel my genjutsu in such a manner, probably the Leaf. We had reports of Konoha shinobi present in Ame a few weeks ago. Dispose of them both as you see fit.''
The titan and the pair of Uzumaki dissipated into a rainy shunshin.
''Hahahahaa! Yes, senpai! As you ordered! Water Style: Water Whip!''
A long tendril of chakra enhanced water fired up from the mad shinobi's hands. It snaked through the air before wrapping tightly around an unconscious Yahiko's neck, hanging him up into the air before the aqua whip flexed, sending his unconscious body crashing into the dirt and sliding until he stopped next to Konan.
A purple and yellow blotch reappeared within Konan's vision. 'Is it coming... Closer?' The simple question filled her dazed mind, desperate for any of her senses to work correctly in order to acknowledge the question with some sort of understandable answer.
''Gonna stab the girlie first! Make her neck bleed! Pop out her little eyes! Mix them in with the rookie's dango tonight, a good prank, yes!'' Kirisame cackled as lurched forward at off angles, dodging some sort of imaginary punches whilst savouring the helplessness of his semi-conscious prey before him.
The yellow and purple blotch filled her vision. 'Tingling?' Konan questioned herself, her dazed mind unable to comprehend anything. Her senses had all but been anaesthetised, barring the slight colours her heavy lidded eyes could make out.
Kirisame watched, almost enticed as the voluptuous vapour his breath created gently trailed over the girl's neck. Nimbly flexing a senbon between his fingers, he began running a sharp point back and forth over her jugular again.
''It's gonna gush! Spy blood in the rain! Warm, red blood! Hurrah!'' He raised his fingers upwards. Momentarily, his eye twisted into a gory display of satisfaction as he glanced up towards the rain before he slammed the needle downwards towards his target.
''Haha! -hrmph!''
A splitting screech of pain wracked the young chunnin's spasms as his desperate hands ran towards the biting cold feeling of metal jutting out from his solar plexus.
''But from wher -gak!''
His vision clouded over as he felt the torturous kunai twist. As he faded into blackness, he could swear he saw his blood run outwards, as if sliding down some invisible extension of the weapon.
''Wha-wh...'' He dropped.
Konan saw the purple and yellow splotch drop out of her vision as she began to feel blood pumping in her eardrums. All she felt was a haze until the sharpest, most wretch worthy smell cauterised her nostrils and lungs. In a flash, she caught herself gasping for breath as her vision snapped into focus despite the tears she shed over the foul odour. With a harsh sense of clarity, she tasted the familiar taste of blood in her mouth, she felt the sharp cold bite at her nose and the fingers on her unbandaged hand and the numb pain throbbing at the back of her head, in sharp contrast to the splitting pain of her lip which she must've bit as she fell.
With a watchful eye, she saw the blood of the dead shinobi sprawled in front of her. Any child should undergo some form of shock at such a sight but far too many open coffins had been marched through Ame within her short lifespan as an orphan. After that, she caught sight of some kind of shimmer within the rain, blood hung in the air as it got caught in the rain and ran down the figure standing over Yahiko. She could make out what looked like a human hand painted in blood. Panic stabbed it's serrated blade into Konan's chest as she threw herself forward in an attempt to do something.
''H-hey! What're you doing, brat?'' Konan dived at the shimmer, only to hit something solid and with a voice. A small glass object became visible as it dropped from within the shimmer and smashed on the ground.
She landed sprawled out on top of Yahiko, facing him as she tried to pull him up. The foul stench returned as she leant close to his face to scream at him to get up before-
''-thud!''
''Urgh..'' Yahiko moaned, clutching his forehead, ''Konan? Whattya doing? What the hell is that smell!?''
Konan had her forehead clutched in her good hand as a result from Yahiko's sudden revival. A quick look up and down had the girl retreating with a well hidden blush behind her hair as Yahiko shot up in a desperate attempt to evade the pungent aroma.
''Gahaha! Oh, brat! Is that how you treat a lady? Never mind, there'll be more in the world for me if you keep that up!'' Came a somewhat perverse giggling.
Yahiko blinked before looking around, a panicked look struck his face, ''K-konan!? G-g-ghost?''
Konan sweat dropped as the muffled chuckling began again, ''what do you want with us, shinobi?'' She asked, reaching into her pocket to pull out an explosive tag.
''Hm, sharp one, aren't we? Well, for one, you just broke a highly valuable jar of toad oil. Oil so rare, that I'm the one and only man alive who can get it! Oh, and two, do you even know how to use that, brat?'' Konan's face didn't slip as she glared at where she thought the figure was. Already she was analysing the voice, it's huskiness created the image of a man in his twenties, maybe thirties, strong and -as he just let slip- a shinobi.
A defeated sigh slipped as the figure appeared to slump, ''geez, no fun are you brats? Gotta good poker face there, girlie. I've got a ladyfriend who could use a gift like that.''
The mild conversation stopped as Yahiko began trembling all over. He hunched over in his seated position and brought his fist crashing into the ground. Silence perturbed between the group as he began to vent.
''Damn it!'' he yelled, snarling at the ground, ''everything we just did, what was it for? They've got them and there's nothing we can do about it!''
The voice became stern, ''zip it, brat. Question time. Have you ever had shinobi training?''
Yahiko looked up, his eyes brimming with rage, ''Ya think?!''
''Hm, so a weak-ass civvy brat, aye? And now, may I ask, how many shinobi did you just face?''
''Two.''
''Congratulations, you can count! Now, are you still alive?''
''What kinda question is that?''
"I ask, you answer. Don't get smart, brat. I'm the damn ghost man here. Got any clue what rank the dead guy was?"
"Rank?"
"..."
''So you don't even know about shinobi ranks. Right. Did you know that you were under an B-class hidden genjutsu unique to this village the second you left that alleyway?''
''A what?''
''Genjutsu?''
''What're they?''
An exasperated sigh filled the area, ''Nevermind...''
''What are you doing?! This whole thing is pointless-''
''I'm trying to show you how utterly outclassed and hopeless this mis- plan of yours was!'' The voice had risen, a steel behind it that was threateningly vicious. The orphans began to shake as an indescribable terror suddenly washed over them, the feeling of impending death caused their hearts to thump violently as their non responsive limbs paralysed them to the ground.
''Look,'' the voice began again softly, as the intense sensation subsidised as fast as it came, ''you brats probably probably don't know which part is the business end of a kunai, so what you pulled out of your asses back there is beyond what many civvies could dream of doing. You're alive, escaped a badass ninja technique and made a legendary shinobi shit himself like a duck around plum sauce. Had you both understood chakra control and detonated those tags, Hanzō and his entourage would have been messy stains gracing a pretty little crater where they fell. You'd both be filthy rich and could've helped end this damn war a helluva lot earlier. I could be out on the road again, y'know? People do have research to do...''
''Detonated? Tags?'' Yahiko questioned, his brow furrowed in confusion before his eyes snapped open as he was slapped by suprise, ''what. Wait. Rich?!''
The voice chuckled gruffly, ''Oh, yeah.''
Konan's jaw clenched as her mind perceived the eventual point of the conversation.
"We're not becoming shinobi for wherever you come from."
Silence reigned for a few moments as Yahiko gaped like a fish at her then at the invisible lump.
"Hm, fine, fine. Not my call, I guess. Do tell me though girlie, I'm interested. What's your big plan of action now, hm?"
She bristled, before intelligently retorting, "not being a shinobi"
"Heh, alright." The pair of orphans could almost see the shit eating grin plastered on the man's invisible face. "You know though-"
''-this is our home! No way I'm abandoning it! To make this world a better for everyone and to protect my friends, that's my dream!'' Yahiko's passions fought back with a angry tongue, nothing would make him abandon Ame, the other orphans or the few adults who could trade food for labour, they had been too good to him for that. If he could bring the bonds that connected that small community to all of the Elemental Nations, then wouldn't the world be a better place? It was a dream worth dying for, in his opinion.
''..."
"..."
''Thats a good dream, brat. How though, are you going to accomplish it when you're dead in a dark pit will all the other idealists who tried it under Hanzō's regime, hm?. What'd you think Hanzō'll do when he finds out about what you two did to that guy there?'' Yahiko paused at the figure's words, half trying to figure out what the longer words meant, half turning round to see the bloody corpse behind them.
''Wai-wait! We didn't kill him!''
''So? Who else did then? Are you going to approach Hanzō and tell him it was the invisible ghostly guy? Oh, oh! Best give me a killer moniker! The Invisible Death? Nah, tacky.. Ame's Sexiest Invisible Thruster? Hmmm... Getting warmer."
The two orphans were just gawking by now.
The man sighed to himself, before continuing in a solemn tone, "right, you were both the last known people around here and I know my hearing is perfect. They accused you of being spies, that's a kunai sticking outta that henchman's chest right there. A shinobi tool. Put one and one together and bingo! We have two spies on the loose in Ame.''
The pair resembled fish the way their bugged out eyes bulged above their dropped jaws.
'Spies? How can children be-''
''-Kids as young as four are trained to be spies where I'm from. You think all spies are adults? I'll tell you now, they'll have many a way to extract information from your girlfriend here, brat. There's 'torture specialists' in most T&I Departments of all the hidden villages, minor and major, that are convicted criminals dressed up pretty in nice little uniforms. Care to know what most did to young children like yourselves before becoming specialists?''
The children cringed and looked away.
''This world is rough kids, you've already had your fair share of it, looking at you both. Don't you want to learn how to fight? To protect those closest to you? To get strong?''
Yahiko's eyes visibly brightened at the thought as he spared a glance at Konan.
The voice chuckled again, ''Alright! I'd give you ten minutes before they come back checking for you two, get whatever you've got and get back to that alleyway, presto. I'll have someone waiting on you to get you an exit. You two aren't going to be leaving to fireworks and a crowd of cheering men and crying women, I'm afraid. Oh! When you find my friend, ask him, 'What did you say, frog?' Hehehe... He'll probably say sommat about being a toad.'' Konan quirked an eyebrow as Yahiko clenched his teeth as his balled fists trembled, was he really going to do this?
''I want answers.'' Konan spoke firmly.
''Eh?''
''You could've helped us save them.''
''Deal, now get out of here.'' Yahiko sent a quick glance to Konan only to catch her answering the figure with a stiff nod, he quickly followed suit. With that, the already invisible figure vanished.
The two shared a look before Konan swatted Yahiko over the head with the explosive tags, ''idiot!'' She chastised, ''these things blow up! Have you not seen the shinobi with them?''
''Ummm... No?'' He answered dumbly before bracing himself for another telling off, his hands already moving to cover his crotch as a reflex. After he reopened his eyes he saw Konan starting to run back towards the alleyway as his brain finally clicked, ''Hey! If they go boom, why'dya hit me with them?''
He took off after the blue haired orphan, disappearing towards the pipeline to prepare for their first time out of Amegakure.
x
'He wants to change the world, huh? Could he be the student that I'm looking for? Either way, they'll both make fine shinobi for Konoha. Or get blown up. Meh, whatever.'
