No Toto, We Are Not in Kansas Anymore!
Dr. John Watson, here. I was heading off to a job interview, while my flatmate Sherlock Holmes would go off investigating our latest case. Or at least, that was the plan. Which went to bloody hell when I opened the door of our home, to leave. I can't really explain what happened. Quite ineffable I'm afraid. Blinding lights and a pull so strong, I almost wanted to vomit my whole gastrointestinal track. We were being sucked into something or as I would find out thereafter, somewhere.
I woke, to find myself staring at a large pair of gates. Probably guarding a city or town. The writing on them looked Japanese, but that required Sherlock to confirm. Speaking of which, where was he? My eyes darted around, desperately searching for my best friend.
"SHERLOCK! Don't you dare die on me again!" I screamed, rushing over to the lovable selfish bastard several feet to my right. He was unconscious and had a sizable gash on the side of his head. Got to do something about that and quick!
I checked his pulse. Thank God! Not dead. I breathed a sigh of relief. With my sleeve pulled over my hand, I went to apply pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding. Much to my horror, my hands started to vibrate and glow a bluish-green colour WTF!? Not only that, somehow Sherlock's wound started to heal!
"This is interesting. . . Where are we?" Sherlock asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he took in our surroundings.
"How the bloody hell should I know?" I snapped back.
"Japanese on the doors. An entrance, but to what? Likely, a settlement of some kind. . ." The scrawny genius cut himself off and held up a hand.
Our situation was clearly more slippery then I first thought.
Sherlock started walking towards the huge gates.
"Matte!" A low female voice called from behind.
Sherlock stopped in his tracks and turned around to face the stranger. Taking his lead, I did the same.
Sherlock and the woman started speaking. I don't know what they said, as I don't speak Japanese, but the arrogant bastard appears to have negotiated something.
We were led inside the village to the middle aged woman's office. A spiky white haired man, his headband tilted over his right eye, met us inside.
"Tsunade-sama," he bowed while greeting her.
Sherlock, the man, and this Tsunade began to talk until a loud banging interrupted them.
Tsunade yelled something in anger as Sherlock moved closer to me.
"John, Tsunade-sama just threatened to defenestrate whom ever interrupted us."
Okay, so don't piss the lady off, least she throw you out a window.
Before Sherlock and I knew it, wood chips came flying towards, thanks to Tsunade's fist. However, the same blinding lights and strong pull that started this whole mess, ended it. We found ourselves standing outside our 221B Baker St. flat, wondering if we had just imagined the whole thing.