Uzumaki Naruto; Winter's Moon
Charter 1; Into the mist
"No" Was the answer that ten years old Uzumaki got. It definitely wasn't the response he was looking for.
"But shishou…!" Naruto tried again. But of course like most of his tries, this one had little to no success.
"Naruto…" Hiko Seijuro fourteenth started with a stern and serious voice "… Listen carefully because I'm going to say this only once."
The young boy's attention was on his master the moment the word 'Naruto' came out of his teacher's mouth. The fact that he used the blonde's first name, second being Kenshin, and that he hadn't mention just how great his teachings and pottery were, was something unexpected and unnerving.
"You are young, Naruto." His mentor continued, "You're young and stupid. Do you know just how violent the world out there is? Are you really ready to kill for someone's sake? Scratch that, are you ready to kill? I'm going to answer that; No. No you are not." The last sentence was said barely above whisper, but every word echoed in corners of his small mind bringing up memories. Memories long forgotten. "You have already seen death, I know. I have given you your second name that day, you remember don't you? The smell of blood, the empty, absent look in their eyes?"
He remembered. He remembered everything, every detail; every drop of the blood, every swing of the sword, every breath of those who weren't amongst living since that day. But the Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryu, the sword style he has been learning ever since than, was more than just swinging a sword. It was a philosophy. 'To protect those who protection need'. And now, in the times of civil war, when he would be able to help oppressed, his shishou didn't allow it. It was something he couldn't understand. For him defending the innocent was something worth every sacrifice. It was his purpose in life.
And for the moment, when he looked into the brown eyes of the towering man above him, from that moment, he already knew. He knew that he would run away next morning.
"But there are hundreds of people dying right now! I can't just stand here doing nothing!" The sun-kissed boy yelled. His eyes burning with passion.
"There are people dying everyday. And what difference in the war would one child make? You're not even a man yet. You would be another nameless shinobi." Seijuro answered with quite a lot of anger in his voice. It was evident that his patience was running thin. "I'm going for some sake" He announced after turning around.
And like that their argument was closed.
It was weird, from Naruto's point of view, to watch his sensei walking away. The white cloak tugging slowly behind the powerfully built back, long black hair, reaching past his shoulders, neatly tied in a single ponytail were swishing wildly in the wind. The sword still in the right hand of the only living master of Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryu, and as Naruto dryly noticed, the bottle of sake in the left. It was truly a nice view – something that he would remember forever – because that would be the last time he'd be seeing his shishou in a long time.
But he had to think about the task at hand. The civil war in Kirikagure would not wait and he had a lot of packing to do.
It was an early morning and thirty-eight old sword master was watching as his student jumped through the trees – away from the old house that he was currently occupying. The sun was just rising above the horizon, bringing warmth and happiness over the majority. He was not the majority.
It was still cold outside. The wind was shrieking loudly, as if disapproving with his decision. But he knew that there was nothing to stop Uzumaki Naruto now. From now on, his apprentice would have to walk alone.
"Sayonara… Baka no deshi." Whispered Hiko Seijuro with a small smile, taking a sip of his favourite alcohol.
Uzumaki Naruto was walking. And walking. And he continued to do so for a long time. It was not surprising – the land of water was an island and one would have to find a dock first. And to find a port you need to be near the sea. And so he walked down the road – through the country of fire, observing the trees and flora around him. It was fascinating, from his point of view. Most of his life he lived on a rocky hill in old and abandoned house. But to see so much colours and shapes – all in one place. It was fascinating.
It was too warm, Naruto determined. Even in his outfit consisting of; white hakama and obi, dark blue haori as well as white tabi socks and zori…it was simply too warm. He wasn't used to this kind of weather. Not one bit. His scarf, although dark red and short, wasn't helping either. At least he had a straw hat covering his whisker-marked face, and shadowing his vibrant, blue eyes. His blond hair were also hidden under the hat and two swords (both sheathed) were visible on his side. One was a long, very dark blue katana. It was a simple, plain katana – albeit a little too long for him – but he already carried it with a grace that would make many sword masters envy. The other however was a blade more preferred by him. It was another katana, though shorter then the first one. The whole blade (along with sheath) was snow-white and there was a ribbon coming from the pommel. Fuyutsuki (winter's moon) was the name he had given to the blade. It was truly a wonderful sword. A sword that would change the future events many times.
The weather was nice. Even if he wasn't used to such climates, Naruto couldn't enjoy the day more. He felt at ease. He felt free. It was bizarre, all the emotions he experienced after leaving his father-like figure. But now, he could choose his own path. 'Let the bird find its way' he thought.
The life wasn't so bad after all.
The village wasn't big. No, it was a small village, with small boats, small houses and, as surprising as it was, Naruto came up with a brilliant statement. 'It really is a small town'. The thing is that it wasn't as bad as he made many think. It was good, normal-sized village, but because the blonde haven't seen any other villages, he could not compare this one. 'It's made of wood…' – was another sharp observation of a young swordsman – '… But that's not unexpected seeing as trees are rather common in this area. Hmmm… Suspicious'. Yes. Uzumaki Naruto had a lot to learn.
What was he doing now? Well, currently he was in a small restaurant, drinking cup of water. To his great dismay they didn't sell him any sake. A small restaurant it was, but he had to hand it to the owner – the
place was cosy and welcoming.
"Here's your bill Naruto-san." Soft voice of a young waitress (no older then fifteen) brought him out of his musings. She was a nice person and she made an effort to learn every client's name. It was a nice sight for his young eyes. But he couldn't care less about her name.
"Aaaa…" The boy acknowledged her softly. He left soon after.
People were watching him. They looked at him like at some kind of royalty. The girls (the ones near his age that is) were giggling lightly (giggles muffled by their hands) and blushing vaguely, some going as far as to point a finger at him. The rest (the adults and older teenagers) were giving him polite nods and appraising gazes. Was it because of how he looked? Because he was a swordsman? Or was it because most could tell he wasn't from here? 'Very suspicious'.
"Leave me alone!" A cry was like a cold bucket. A wake up call.
He took off, running at speeds that many would envy. 'There!' There was a group of people looking at something. Naruto realized after a second that a cry mentioned earlier was coming from that exact place.
"I didn't do anything!" Another shout.
But the light-coloured boy wasn't about to barge in without some knowledge on his future opponent. 'Whosoever wishes to know about the world must learn about it in its particular details. And you should know by now, that the world is nothing more then one big war.' His shishou used to say. His master was an intelligent man and a powerful warrior.
That's why he watched the whole thing from the roof, concealed in shadows. A teenager by the name of Hibiki (echo), average looking, young man of about sixteen was laying on the ground. His hair were the colour of was dark wood and his nose was very eagle-like. The thugs, there were three of them, were nothing special, barely a mare brutes with no brains (at least that was what he had gathered). One was carrying a knife and that was about it.
The tallest of the thugs, and coincidently the one with a knife, did something unforeseen by the future-to-be hero. He took a huge swing; the time was slowing down, his big arms moving slowly in an arc. Naruto, of course, was able to read the attackers motive. He was about to slash at Hibiki. The teenager's expression changed to one of horror, his face already paler then usually. Suddenly when knife was about an inch from the brown haired boy's neck…
…Clang! The white blade of Fuyutsuki stopped the knife with scaring ease. Snow-white ribbon was moving about in the wind, making a flapping sound. And there not half meter away Uzumaki Naruto was standing with his straw hat on. He was still gripping the hilt of his best friend, lightly and with seemingly no pressure at all. They were partners – Fuyutsuki and the blonde. They took care of each other.
The moment the straw-hat wearing boy blocked the attack many things happened. The crowed gasped slightly in surprise and murmurs followed soon after.
Hibiki – the teenager Naruto saved – also gasped. His eyes were those of admiration, awe and great gratitude. He was saved.
"You're really stupid, aren't you?" The moment was broken when young swordsman spoke. It was supposed to be a trash-talk… But he really didn't have much experience with that kind of thing. Not one bit.
"Who do you think you are, eh?!" It was one of thugs. He settled in a fighting stance and although swordsman had no idea what particular style it was, he knew one thing. It had a few flows. Gangster number 2, was about to attack the blond. But stopped as the one holding a knife (thug number 1) backed up a bit.
"Guys! Attack on three! One!" mugger number one shouted. 'Are they aiming for a surprise attack?' though Naruto wryly. He was still standing with his sword in the same place – which made the almost-adult boy on the ground awfully uncomfortable. The katana was centimetres from his neck, after all.
"Two!" The thugs 'prepared' and settled in their separate stances. From what fox-boy saw it would be piece of cake… 'Or maybe a cup of sake? Hmmm… Saaaakeee…' He DID have some serious problems.
"Three!" And they charged.
"I just hate to be right…" Uzumaki said not so quietly, adding a shake of a head.
As soon Naruto was done he vanished. Not even moving he simply vanished with a 'shuun' sound, leaving quite confused crowd. Not to mention thugs.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The hooligans all hit the ground – unconscious. And the silence soon followed, for a second, before Naruto reappeared in his previous place.
"What the hell?!" exclaimed Hibiki. By now it was probably on everyone's mind.
"Hmmm?" Asked the blonde. Sometimes it was better to play stupid. After all it's not often you see a ten year old beating down a handful of thugs without breaking a sweat.
"How did you do that?!" again, he exclaimed adding a wave of arms to show his frustration and interest.
"Do what?" Naruto wasn't fazed one bit. After all it wouldn't do to show how strong he actually was. Playing stupid was the only option. He started to walk through the crowd. Less and less were people interested.
"You blocked the guy's attack, and then you just disappeared and then you...!" He continued for about ten minutes, all the while looking at fox-boy's face and making peculiar signs with his hands. By the end of ten minutes Hibiki was walking backwards, and people were looking at them (more at him then Naruto). And as a tenth minute ended Uzumaki figured he should do something about their current situation.
"You're walking backwards…" the child said.
"I know. That's so I can see your face better!" Brown-haired man exclaimed as if using the best excuse in the world.
"You DO realize you're walking backwards?" Young fox asked again. Maybe this guy had some kind of ADHD?
"Hai! Hai!" The teen was like a walking recorder that just couldn't stop making sounds. Naruto's ears were killing him.
"You know what you look like?" student of Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryu asked. His voice was his usual quiet but one who knew him long enough could tell a difference in this voice. It had a bit of mirth in to it.
"Like what? Like what?!" was the answer, full of enthusiasm. He was moderately easy to predict, this Hibiki guy.
"…Like an idiot walking backwards."
It was nice to make friends, Naruto concluded.
"That's your house?" It was quite a surprise when, now properly introduced Hibiki Akihiko, allowed the blonde to stay in his family house as a reword for saving him. It was not something that he expected and if all people were so kind, it'd be fairly easy for him to survive.
The house was big. Really big. From what he could see it was a long and broad more so then high. It was made of wood, and one could see that it was probably based on old Japanese houses. The walls were thin – Naruto noticed – and had many different designs on them. The abode was also very traditional, with two bells hanging in front of the doors. It looked somewhat like a shrine but maybe it was just a fashion or something… He truly had no idea.
"Yep! That's my house! Impressed?" The youngest male in Akihiko family answered. He was an energetic person, with very bright attitude. He was also dense. But young swordsman liked this Hibiki person. Okay, maybe he was too loud sometimes, and maybe he did talk too much and he was stupid… So what? It was refreshing to look at the teen from Naruto's point of view. A shinobi was to always keep his cool and Uzumaki most definitely did.
"You're so amazed by my beautiful home that you can't even talk?! Yatta!" And now Hibiki was dancing in circles. Also, the blonde didn't mention that the brown haired almost-man made it his personal mission to make an impression on the whiskered boy. In reality he didn't even care…
"Nope" answered Naruto, in an 'it's-the-most-obvious-thing-in-the-world' tone of voice. Of course, he WAS impressed but he needed to keep his calm. Plus it was enjoyable to make fun of his new friend.
And now a depressed Akihiko and stoic Uzumaki stood in front of the doors. It was fascinating to witness just how fast Hibiki could change his moods. One second he's pleased the next one he's all-out unhappy.
Soon the door opened to reveal a young girl (which, as Naruto assumed was thirteen), with dazzling smile on her face. Her eyes were dark-brown, and her hair were black – tucked neatly behind her ears. She looked at the taller of the two (Hibiki) and then her gaze fell down to the more composed. Her eyes widened slightly as she looked over Uzumaki. His left hand was resting on swords and his right hand was hanging limply at the side – holding his straw hat. The girl stared at his face, amazed, looking at his well-defined cheeks and whisker-like-marks (three on each cheek – She noted), his full lips, his cute blue eyes… And with that red scarf! He looked like some kind of noble! A female Akihiko had to admit that the boy (even if tad too young) possessed some sort of boyish charm. And he looked so sweet with those whisker-marks…
"Are you done staring?" Naruto asked. He certainly didn't like it when people were looking at him. It was really uncomfortable thing, impolite too.
She blushed. And then she blushed some more. After that, she stuttered. She took quick glance at the blonde who was watching her every move with a raised eyebrow. Only now, did she notice the gorgeous blond hair of his, which were falling slightly – giving much needed shadow to his eyes.
"Oh, yeah! Introductions are in order!" it was her idiot of an older brother that brought her down from heaven of thoughts.
"This" he pointed a thumb at Naruto "is Uzumaki Naruto-san. He saved me from some muggers." He stopped for a moment and then looked at the girl.
"And this is my younger sister Susumu Akihiko." She bowed slightly to the younger boy, who in question did the same.
"It is pleasure to meet you." She said after a while letting the two in the house. The inside of the abode was nice and it had many paintings. The family was probably an artistic one.
"Will you stay for a dinner, Naruto-san?" The blonde shoot a quick look at Hibiki – who in turn nodded.
"Hibiki here offered me your house as a place to stay in during the night. So if it won't cause much of a trou…" He was interrupted by Susumu who waved him off.
"Nonsense! There's plenty of space, and our parents would be glad to hear that Yakuza people are gone now. The least we can do is to offer a shelter for a night." She was jumping inside by now. 'To think that Hibiki is actually useful for once…'
"I'll show you around then!" And so a male Akihiko and young blonde took off.
The house was very well decorated, as Naruto noted. The walls, wooden walls to be specific, were painted in different patterns, and he often passed various vases and other beautifications. It was a tidy and clean residence, every ounce of a dust cleaned of, if he'd have to guess, a week ago. His conclusion? They were probably wealthy, because he doubted that a family like that could keep this place clean.
His room was nice. It wasn't big but he didn't need a big area. For him it was perfect. Small, clean, with only the necessary things in it. He had a lot of time until the dinner so he slowly unsealed some things and soon, the blond started to read. Sealing. Fuuin were a very interesting subject. As he learned from Seijuro Hiko it became apparent that the subject of seals was nearly untouched. Mainly, as his teacher pointed out, it was because they weren't useful at combat very much and most of shinobi simply didn't know how they worked. It was understandable. It WAS a complicated matter, as Uzumaki found out. He had read many books, and even with his Shishou's help, he knew pretty much nothing about how they worked. Of course, he knew many seals but what's the point in knowing how to do something when you don't now how it works? It was frustrating but this particular topic interested him, more so then others.
Taijutsu? He was good at it. Mainly because of his speed, his form wasn't bad either. In his opinion it was brute's way of dealing with problems. Genjutsu? His control was better then his mentor's was (although you could reason that it was his Kekkei genkai) and that said something. But he didn't use them much… Too complicated. Ninjutsu? Yeah, he did like using, creating and learning ninjutsu. It was his forte, and he mastered the art to such a degree that he could do most of his techniques with one-handed seals. Ha! He could do some ninjutsu without using hand seals at all. He was proud of many things but he had yet to finish his training. His swordplay. Kenjutsu. It was a sore chapter in his short book. Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryu was, at least according to his master, was invincible. God-like speed, awesome precision and ability to read your opponent's movements all combined with artistic, acrobatic-like movements, that's what the style was about. Kenjutsu was something blonde loved. Yet he had not finished training in it. He had run away.
Loud knocking was what he heard after coming down to the planet called Earth.
"Naruto-san?! The dinner is ready!" It was Susumu. Quickly, looking at his watch he noticed what hour it was. 'Is it three o'clock already?' It was.
The fox-boy took both of his swords, and after tucking them under his obi, he walked to the dining room. It was an average space with a few pillows to sit on and a small table with various meals already on it. Susumu was already there – seating on her pillow and waiting patiently. Hibiki was yet to be seen, but he figured that it won't take long for him to join as well. There was, however, one more person sitting in the room.
A chill run down his spine. His right hand already resting on the hilt of his favourite sword. He tensed. The blonde did not have many close-death situations, but he could tell when a person he was looking at was powerful or not. This person was. Swordsman could tell. It was like a sixth sense, a voice whispering to his ear.
Samurai-in-training was looking at the old man. He was very aged, 75 – Naruto estimated – but the age did not cover his wisdom nor did it conceal his skill. The way he moved, the way his eyes wondered towards Naruto, for only two seconds.
"Ohayo, Naruto-kun!" said the aged man. The enthusiasm was faked, that much was obvious. The elderly man, who by now waved at him energetically, had a wrinkled face and grey, long hair that reached pass his shoulders. His eyes also, were grey.
"You know my name. It's only polite to introduce yourself as well." He demanded an answer. In reality he was scared. The men's aura was so powerful it was becoming frightening. But showing fear to his potential enemy wasn't exactly on his list of priorities.
"Masaru. That's what they call me." Answered the mature men. Uzumaki was paying attention now. As far as he could tell what the old guy said was true. His pupils didn't change size and he did not move his gaze in any direction excluding him. Maybe he was just an old retired shinobi, who wished only to live life of harmony. Or maybe he was just a very good liar.
"Very well then." And they started to eat. It was quiet for a long time with both males eating silently and Susumu looking worriedly from one to another. She was ignored through the whole ordeal and even now both warriors weren't even paying attention. Her current 'crush' as she called the blond wasn't even paying attention to her. It was unorthodox. She hardly knew the boy, who presumably, was three years younger then her and yet, she felt so affected. And why was her grandpa acting so bizarre? Usually he was calm, collected and above all intelligent. Now he looked like a senile, old man who was too vigorous for his own good. She was worried.
"It's a rare site, nowadays, to see a swordsman at such a young age." The old man stated. Looking over whiskered boy. He made a mistake however.
"I am no swordsman." This particular reply was a short one. That surprised her. She assumed he was some kind of fighter. He carried two swords, he was dressed like all these samurais, long time ago. He even carried himself with an air of awareness' like he could tell what you'll do next or what you're thinking about. Not unlike the other person sitting by the table.
"Who are you then, boy?" Her grandfather asked. His deep voice booming throughout the room. He wasn't angry with the much younger male, she could tell, but his tone suggested that one could hide nothing from him. He was a ninja in his young days. A good one at that. And, as she remembered him saying, all good ninja should know what the truth was and what was not.
"I am who I am." replied Naruto.
And they ate in silence again. It was unnerving that neither her 'crush' nor her grandfather seemed affected by this little dialogue. Young boy was ignoring both of them, while eating slowly. His chopsticks picking up pieces of meat and rice with grace that would make many nobles envy. It was truly amazing that he was able to do all this without even opening his eyes.
"Mist. That's where you're heading." Masaru assured himself aloud. He was pleased with himself for figuring this out. It wasn't that hard, considering that the boy was looking very samurai-like. Only those of Mist would have such a traditional swordsman in between their ranks. He turned his questioning gaze to Uzumaki.
At that Naruto nodded silently with his eyes still closed. He didn't have any obligation to tell the man anything. But then again it's not like the men would try to stop him…
"I can't let you go, young man." Everything went quiet for a few seconds. Very uncomfortable silence soon followed. The blonde boy opened his eyes; sky-blues meeting greyish-whites. Both studied the counterpart for a few seconds.
"You can't let me go?" Asked Naruto with somewhat annoyed tone of voice. It was obvious that he didn't like what the older man was saying.
"You'll die." The white-haired stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 'It would be shame', he thought with some distaste 'for a young boy like you to die on a battlefield.'
"Yes, I am aware of the risks. The war is something terrible, I know, but if Kiri will not withstand
and Kaguya clan will come victorious… It would result in another Great Shinobi War." One could barely hear the last part of the sentence.
Was that really a possible outcome? He doubted that the clan would be able to obliterate the village but Kaguyas were not to be laughed at. It was one of the biggest clans in the world; their skills in Taijutsu and Kenjutsu were unmatched.
The long haired Masaru looked at Naruto. One would take it as a look of an understanding. It was not. It went far deeper then that. The young boy was going to fight in battles; during war. War was far worse then 'terrible'. Even now in his old days, nightmares of encounters long buried under the blanket of time were resurrected. He was young then, when the war started, maybe eighteen? This boy was not even twelve. Would he survive? Both mentally and physically? He had no clue.
"I'll tell you what." The white-haired started. "We're going to spar and if I win, you'll have to stay here. If I won't I'll teach you a certain jutsu I know… Call it a bet." Masaru thought he did the right thing. He would be able to tell just how strong the kid is and the possibility of Naruto winning the spar was unlikely. And if he did it would prove his skill well enough. So caught up in his thoughts, he was, he did not consider his old age.
Young samurai seemed to consider this for a moment; opting to close his eyes and lay his chopsticks down. The man, he contemplated, was strong. But he was also old. In terms of experience, he would loose. Masaru-san was experienced and wise. He was not. He had no uncertainty that the man (who was now sitting in front of him) was part of the second Great Shinobi War. He on the other hand never fought with anyone except his sensei. He did know many jutsu and he had knowledge of many subjects. But he was not wise. He lacked experience. But then again, he was not as capable as he once was. It was evident, that even if experienced, the old man was lacking the physical part to match him in the spar. Stakes were high but what was life without the risks?
"Aaaaa…" Escaped Naruto's lips, "I accept your bet." He still sported his apathetic expression. It was usual. He rarely smiled these days. He rarely smiled at all.
"We will start after diner then." Answered Masaru. And so they continued to eat in silence. Hibiki, as young samurai noticed, was nowhere in sight. He paid it no mind, maybe he was out with some friends? He reasoned.
The spar, that's what was on Naruto's mind. He'd have to win. There was no other option then to win, because he knew that he would keep his word. He always kept his word. It was foolish of him, he summed up. Yes, a new jutsu would be nice. But what if he would loose? He couldn't. He would not. Already, he thought about tactics to be used. 'Masaru.' He reflected 'He's experienced shinobi. There's very high possibility that he would recognize and dispel genjutsu without mush of a hassle. I don't know much about him. I should probably attack him head on, first, just to see how strong and fast he is… It would help in gauging his reflexes as well. Taijutsu or kenjutsu? I'm better at kenjutsu… Hmmmm. Yes, Frontal assault using kenjutsu. Then what? His stamina would be on pair with me, seeing as he's old and I'm young. He's more experienced so he would have me figured out faster. I should probably hide somewhere… Kirigakure no Jutsu would do. Yes…' And so his train of thoughts continued on the upcoming battle.
They were currently standing in the clearing. Both Naruto and Masaru were looking at each other. It was a small clearing surrounded by trees and at the side there was a small body of water that could be barely called a lake. Still, Uzumaki was grateful that it was there. They were alone. Slowly, he watched his opponent for the slightest movements that could give him away. The old man – as he noticed – was standing still – about ten meters away from him, a few kunai and shuriken punches on his legs. His eyes were closed and his face could not be described as anything but calm. It would be nice, the blonde thought, to end the 'spar' quickly, but he knew that the challenger was too experienced to make a mistake of underestimating him.
The wind howled – it was near evening – and the sun was slowly hiding behind the horizon. Red and pink rays of sunlight illuminated the sky in a marvellous display of colours as the wind shrieked, blowing some leaves from the tree nearby. The aged man attacked. He was faster then he anticipated but still fox-boy managed to duck under the kunai.
Cling! The sound of kunai meeting sword resonated throughout the clearing. Both exchanged blows, and every time one could hear that sound as black-coloured steel of kunai blocked by the white and incredibly sharp edge of a sword. And after a few minutes everything stopped as kunai was once again blocked by a katana. Naruto – for his own record - could feel his arms slowly giving way to the more powerful ones of his foe. Shinobi in front of him – even in his age – was stronger then himself. He was not, however, faster. With a familiar tingling in his legs, he pushed as much chakra in his legs as he could, and bending his knees slightly the blonde pushed off the ground.
Ha appeared not a second later, on the tree branch 25 meters away. Masaru, in the meantime stumbled forwards, not foreseeing sudden disappearance. He quickly regained his balance and scanned throughout the flora of the forest.
Everything was silent for a moment until barely hearable whisper ringed all the way through the ears of the old man.
"Ninpou; Kirigakure no Jutsu" the voice of a ten year old boy sounded incredibly deep, as a very thick fog covered the area. The aged man could not see a thing – he could hardly see his arms in the mist – but with his experience the mist was no problem. Gathering chakra to his hands he waved them a few times and the vapour in around him lessened considerably.
Nothing happened, as Naruto quietly analysed every aspect of their 'spar'. They were evenly matched, he realized, in Taijutsu – or in his case Kenjutsu. The old man Masaru was smart. He knew that a shorter weapon was better for a defence and so he used a kunai. He was slower then Uzumaki, but then many were – and the grey-haired man used his experience to a very irritating advantage. The older man was also stronger then the blonde and his reflexes even if a bit dulled by the time - were still there. A conclusion of an only-taijutsu battle would probably result in a tie. That's why he created the mist. For him to win – he had to control the fight. As far as he knew there was no counter for this particular jutsu – and even if somewhat cancelled out – it did not cost him much of a chakra.
He took out a clay-brown bottle from behind his dark-blue haori. Slowly, making three one-handed seals starting with Snake and ending with Tiger he thought 'Mizu Bunshin no Jutsu'. The water rose from the container and two copies of Naruto appeared – not a sound was made. A small smile graced Uzumaki's lips.
The old man was still standing – not making sound for the last five minutes. It could be that the young blond shinobi simply couldn't find him in the thick mist – but he doubted it. From what he already knew the child he was fighting with right now was more skilled then some twice his age. The worst thing was that constant waiting. It was something very unnerving – at least according to Masaru. He was on the edge, constantly, during these five minutes and yet he could not detect any movement or hear any sound. It was taking a toll on him.
The old man felt a sharp pain in his back and something hoisted him in the air. He turned in the mid-air, and from his position he could recognize Naruto smiling slightly and standing on the ground. As soon as he hit the ground, however, a loud 'pop' sound was made as he disappeared in the cloud of smoke.
Child's expression changed into that of surprise and without even a sound he felt something wrap around his legs. He tried to jump but it was already too late as he felt his knees – they were already underground. Soon only his head was left and old men jumped from beneath the earth. He smiled gently – that is until the head he was smiling to turned into the water. With a wet 'splash' the clone was no more and everything was soundless again.
The pain was what Masaru felt. Something stabbed him – piercing his stomach. For a moment Naruto thought he went too far, but abandoned this idea as fast as it came. 'It was too easy' he considered this possibility as well, but after counting three seconds off there was nothing to do anymore.
"Sorry, Masaru-san" The old man turned his head slightly and smiled sadly.
Boom. A great explosion graced the clearing – destroying trees and the already damaged landscape (after all they were using taijutsu for the first ten minutes, or so). A heat wave descended upon the scenery burning, obliterating and blowing everything in its path just as an enemy's army would. The mist cleared slowly and the dust settled too. The constant ringing could not be prevented concluded the retired shinobi. He was standing on (now destroyed) tree that was barley hidden by the near bushes. After very intriguing encounter with the blond – and by that he meant their taijutsu battle – he created two Kage Bunshin and one Bunshin Daibakuha. He currently possessed all the memories from his clones.
A single, injured body laid lightly on water – in the lake. Small waves, created by an explosion were slightly caressing the body of a boy – not older then ten – with ragged clothes and burns on his upper arms. A white sword was still held tightly in the blonde's hand. The face of the boy was underwater and only his hair were visible. As the old man stepped onto the lake and sat next to the body he smiled bitterly.
"You've done well my boy" He muttered in between breaths. He – for once – was very tired and could barely stand. After a while of consideration he sat down on the water – using precise amount of chakra not to wet his clothes. Before he knew what was happening, however, water started to rise and without a second he was sitting in the middle of water spare. Oxygen, Masaru dully noticed, was something not granted in his little prison. He tried to move but to his great dismay, the ability to do so was not granted, also.
"Suiton: Suiro no Jutsu" It was a whisper of a blonde boy who was currently residing behind his back. He was positioned in the same way for a few seconds now, looking at the 'other', more damaged blond. In question the injured one turned into ice, slowly – piece after piece. They started to loose their form and were drowning rather fast, as well. 'Bunshin made of ice?' It was astonishing – in white-haired man's opinion. It was something unheard of. The child – he concluded – had to be some kind of prodigy. Clones were not something easy to do. It took a lot of skill and chakra to make a solid copy.
"You've done well too…" Naruto said after awhile - the prison made of water had already collapsed. "…old man." The last part was clearly forced a bit, but an ex-shinobi noticed a small smile that played on Uzumaki's lips.
"It seems that you've won." Masaru replied. He was tired, very much so, and by now he could barely speak – his lungs working busily – making up for the temporary lack of oxygen. His semi-wrinkled face was deformed slightly and there were a few cuts bleeding, not dangerously, but annoyingly so.
"Aaaaa" His younger opponent was also tired. Chest of the younger boy was rising and falling as he breathed heavily. But the blonde was standing while he was not. And like that both relaxed for a while.
"We should probably go back… It's getting dark." Suggested retired ninja. It was getting dark; dark clouds were already flowing lazily in the sky, the wind wailed with unrealistic passion and little salty-tasting droplets were descending, without much hurry, aimlessly.
"Aaaaa"
On their way back both Naruto, and Masaru talked about Kiri and the current situation. It appeared that Mist was in the middle of the civil war – caused mainly by Kaguya clan. Not many knew just why Kaguya decided to rebel against their home village but many simply stated that it was for the power. It was foolish of them – Uzumaki thought. They were powerful clan, yes, but one's power could only go that far. It was also said that many other shinobi abandoned Mizukage, and united with the traitorous clan. The Mist was falling apart – and if someone didn't attach it together other hidden villages might join. And so Third Great Shinobi War may perhaps begin.
Centred in the Water country, hidden mist was an island in an archipelago and due to that used mainly water Jutsu. The water country was now divided into two parts; an East – the part in which most of Kaguyas and other rebels fled and a West; That's were the rest of 'Bloody Mist' and other loyal ninjas are residing.
Naruto was happy he won the bet. In all truth, Masaru-san was very concerned about him and his future and when asked why, he answered; 'Murdering is not little boy's job'. It confused him greatly, really. Didn't most future-to-be-ninja finish shinobi academy at the age of twelve? He was ten and in a few months of time he'd be eleven. Of course – the blonde didn't kill yet – but he was fairly sure that his first kill would be during protecting someone.
Masaru-san was very generous. Young Uzumaki got quite a few gifts after they returned; some of which weren't from the old man. It was nice, he summarised, and the list of 'parting presents' was fairly big as well; The white-haired man gave him a few fire based techniques – 'for variety' – and a detailed map of Water country. They were really useful souvenirs – especially the map – which he didn't have until now. A little older girl then him – Hibiki's sister – Susumu gave him something he couldn't figure out;
"It's an empty diary" she said with a bit of a pride in her voice "I made it myself!" She finished enthusiastically, very much so like her older brother (was it some kind of family trait?), and pumped her fist into the air. It was a beautiful book – young samurai noticed – with milk-white pages that flowed through his fingers as if made of silk. The pages – and there were many of them – had a nice smell to them, that of some kind of flower he couldn't identify yet. But that wasn't what intrigued him. The cover of the book was of light-pink colour and in the middle of it stood he, himself, in his traditional samurai pose – with left hand on his sword, and his right holding the straw hat. It was amazing how much shadows and details there was (she even drew his whisker-marks). When asked 'why?' She replied happily.
"So when you come back and give me this, I'll be able to know a little more about you." She ruffled his hair, at the end, with a playful smirk adoring her pale face. This, obviously made him growl a little (No one, NO ONE, ever ruffled his hair!), and for a moment he loosed his calm façade. The rest of the evening was spend relatively peacefully with an annoying Hibiki and a bossy Susumu.
It was an early morning again. Young shinobi noticed dully that he was more often then not running away in the mornings. It was almost three o'clock, but the sun was rising already, dominating clouds of different sizes and shapes and the stars of night were no more visible on the kingdom called sky. That was why he liked to start the day in the morning. The view was simply breathtaking.
"Leaving already?" It was that old jounin again. He was a nice person but a bit too knowledgeable for Naruto's tastes. The old man gave him the sum of eight scrolls with different techniques and money 'for later' as well and that's not including the map. He scanned most of the scrolls by now and he studied the map carefully also.
"Aaaa…" He liked it here; there was no doubt about that. But he had to keep the list of priorities; first he had to help with the civil war. He sacrificed too much to back off now. White-haired man was now leaning against the wall, looking at him with an emotion he couldn't really name. Was it pride?
"Good luck then…" Said the long haired man.
He opened the door and went out smelling the new day's aroma. And so he left putting his straw hat on, facing the sunrise. 'How cliché…' He thought. Not once did he turned back, after all, he had a ship to catch.
What was it that made him so depressed? He really had no idea… Was it the shady coloured boat, swimming in the same pattern for hours and hours to no end; maybe the darkening skies on the horizon; a clear sign of mysterious times that had yet to come; or perhaps it was that compared to his recently bright past, the future was simply too dull. Waves were aggressively attacking, restlessly tearing down bits of portside. Swishing, again and again. This sound, it made him mad.
Things were so complicated now. Now that he made the choice, the one that probably changed his life forever. He didn't know why, he didn't know how. The cold air howled and swished – together with waves – they played the music. Soft humming of the engine; synchronised with occasional and distant thunder; and the breeze twisted around all those present – it played solo; the clouds were responsible for the light effects. But they were dark, mysterious even. Maybe they'll play another song?
He took a small note from under his haori. Seals. He marvelled for a second just how valuable and amazing they could be when in right hands. A lovely sensation reached his fingers; one he always welcomed. Chakra. It was the feeling of chakra racing through the thick coils inside of him; as if cold water making his hair on the neck stand up – but this time in pleasure. A 'poof' later he had his empty diary and a black pen in his hands.
He hesitated for a moment. And soon the dark ink touched white pages; his diary, once pure was now tainted with black ink.
'I'm going to sail the oceans of time; back, where as a child of mare five I had no purpose and no meaning. Like a wave without a shore, I was crashing through places and people but never really belonging anywhere, or to anyone. I had no parents. I had no relatives. I had no one. I was no one.
I was a slave. I can hardly remember that times now – they weren't nice – and I did a good job of forgetting them. What I do remember is an event that changed my life; something that haunts me during nights. A memory that cannot be forgotten.'
He stopped and looked back at his 'book'. There's no title – he noticed, although a bit too late. His writing was exquisite; every curve – complete and precise – just like his swordsmanship. Calligraphy and swordsmanship were both connected very closely. Both were arts; and while in case of a sword it was an art of killing, brush had another purpose. It did not mean, however, that they weren't alike. Both had to be beautiful, efficient and fast. Detailed, but not overly so, and accurate. He started to write again.
'It was an early evening in the spring – the sun was just settling down. It was warm but the cool breeze reminded everyone that winter ended not so long ago. I was walking, along with another group of slaves, down the small hill. It was a site to behold, and our caravan stopped for a while if only to watch the view. They were nice – that much I recall. All of them, even our masters. They didn't beat us and one could even say they cared.
Almost half an hour went like this, peacefully. It looked astonishing, and everything looked as if painted by the greatest artist in the world, Kami himself. The colours were mending together – making this stunning scenery even more surreal. And then the killing began.
Just like that without much of a reason shouts emitted from everywhere. The sounds of metal meeting flesh. The echo of bodies ripped in two. "Run! Run for your lives!" Loud, ear-splitting screams of women. "Don't! Please don't!" They continued from everywhere and I, not knowing what to do, just stood there; hysterically turning around looking for the attackers.
In the middle of all that; I stood pathetically, not moving a muscle. My eyes were already watered, and I could hear my heartbeat; my heartbeat and nothing else. It was amazing how scared I was. My body wasn't reacting at my commands and I couldn't even think clearly... I saw people running about, lost in their own feelings just like me – only they were running, avoiding, protecting. And the only colour was red.
And I stood pathetically. Questions were running through my mind, like worker-bees soaring; 'What's happening?', 'What should I do?' I asked myself. Nobody answered.
And I did nothing. Questions were left unanswered but my survival instincts kicked in. My legs were starting to shift, if only a little. 'Move!' I yelled at my legs; and they did slowly. And as the time passed I yelled; "Faster! Faster!" And they did. Adrenaline already running through me, giving me power that I never knew I possessed.
No longer, I stood pitifully. I was running with all the strength my young body possessed. I knew. I knew that this may be the last day of my life. By now, the smell was unbearable; I could barely breathe. My lungs were burning but I tried to pay no notice. Tears, running down my whisker-marked cheeks didn't help either. My vision was starting to become blurry. My arms were hurting. I could not think – lack of oxygen getting to my brain.
I stopped at once. My body not used to such a long and fast run. I was tired and sick. My stomach started to hurt and I had to sit down. All the time I asked myself the same question, over and over. 'Why?' It was then that I noticed how quiet it was.
I was in a forest. I was running so fast that I didn't even notice my surroundings. My legs were still hurting and my belly wasn't better at all. But the nice cool breeze and a pleasant smell of forest calmed me a bit. I closed my eyes, relaxing myself, and as I laid down on a soft grass my thoughts turned towards attackers of our camp.
I left them to die.
But what could I do? There was no other choice. Green grass soothed my mind. There was no other choice. I looked at my hands. There was no other choice. Red liquid consumed my tiny fists, coating them in black and red. There was no other choice. I looked at my crimson reflection – it grinned madly, like a predator, like death. And then I heard a shout.
"Hey, there's one more here!"'
And just like that Uzumaki Naruto stopped. It was a painful memory and the book he was about to write would not be a happy one. He needed a time to cool down, to leave a world of past he temporary occupied. So caught up in his thoughts he was that he didn't notice the mist that was slowly creping in the general direction of the ship. Only in the last moment did he noted where he was. His throat became suspiciously dry and he murmured one word under his now uneven breath.
"Finally"