Disclaimer: Naruto (c) Kishimoto and probably some other Japanese companies whose names I don't know.
A/N: Kindly forgive the clichés. Enjoy!


01: Crimson

The plumes of black smoke rose over the tree tops in the distance, obscuring the afternoon sun and casting a sickly yellow shadow over the land. They were hard to miss, even if the squad of Konoha ninjas had somehow failed to pick up on the smell of burnt on the forest road.

Jiraiya, Orochimaru and Tsunade were just returning from a secret reconnaissance mission on a new ninja village that had settled itself a bit too close to the borders of Fire Country for Konoha to ignore. The relations between the various ninja villages were always strained at best, but tensions had been rising to such especially critical levels in recent times that it was only a matter of time until war broke out.

Technically, the team was not inside Fire Country yet, and as such had no legitimate right to investigate the suspicious forest fire, but Jiraiya – the more travelled of the three – had a vague recollection of a small settlement that appeared to be close to the origin of the smoke, so despite their weariness after the hard mission, they decided to look into it anyway.

They stealthily picked their way across the strip of no-man's-land that separated Fire from River Country, making sure they did not leave any evidence of their passage and that they were not being watched. The three could not risk starting a confrontation with other ninja, for that might give the other countries the excuse they had been waiting for to justify war. However, the three were fairly confident there was no reason why an insignificant civilian village would be attacked so brutally to the point that the smoke would be seen for miles.

Following Jiraiya's lead, they soon made it to what was left of the tiny settlement and discovered that it was indeed the source of the smoke and a terrible sight to behold.

The torn bodies of the townspeople lay abandoned and exposed to the elements on the lifeless one-street village. The once flourishing community had been reduced to a silent graveyard of blackened stone and of the surrounding farms that so many had nurtured with their daily sweat, only black coal remained. As for their tenders, their bodies were spread over the village's single street: some looked like they had been struck from behind while trying to escape the inferno, while others had been fully caught by the fire, charred to the point where nothing but their final expression of wide-open horror could be recognised. None of the small schist houses had been left standing either, hiding even more possible scenes of horror beneath their ruins.

Although none of them could see any weapons, footprints or any other sign that a ninja had been anywhere in that wreck of a village or the surrounding plains recently, all three knew that no one else could have caused that kind of destruction. The air was still blazing and the pungent smell of burnt flesh was inescapable – a fire of that magnitude would never have occurred naturally in the middle of winter and it would take more than the average person to subdue a whole village, even one as small as this one.

"Look for survivors," Tsunade told her teammates, even as she neared the body of a middle-aged man lying on a pool of blood. She was operating under a healer's mindset, concentrating on what might still be saved rather than finding the perpetrators. She was not sure, though, if her companions' priorities would be the same.

She felt for a pulse, but quickly withdrew her fingers. They came back covered in reddish soot and she growled at the back of her throat, angered by the senseless slaughter around her.

Orochimaru was not having much luck either, although he limited his search to an overall glance over whatever people he found that looked half-way whole. If they were not moving, it was a safe bet that smoke inhalation had gotten to them before he did.

Jiraiya, on the other hand, had committed himself to the task, feeling a personal connection to the people he had met during his travels. It was likely that no one would have so much as remembered him from that brief visit, but he could not help but feel that he should have been aware of the danger that might have been targeting the peaceful village even then.

He was digging anxiously through the ruins of the houses and shouting calls in case there were any survivors in hearing range. All thoughts of keeping their presence a secret were long gone.

He was starting to believe that they had arrived too late to make any difference, when a rock close-by moved as if on its own, revealing a much too small bloodied hand. The white-haired ninja did not hesitate to make his way over and, in no time, had uncovered an arm to go with that hand, then a head. As he called out to Tsunade, he found himself the recipient of a very grateful gaze coming from the two huge sky-blue eyes of a small three-year-old.

"My legs... they're stuck..." he rasped.

"Hush, kid," he ordered immediately, the tiny drop of blood the child had coughed up while gulping for fresh air tugging at his heartstrings. "Don't worry, we'll get you out."

Jiraiya was a very laidback person by nature and his easy-going love for the pleasures of life often conflicted with the life-or-death responsibilities of his chosen profession, but his resolve could be as hard as tempered steel when kindled. One look at the pained-looking eyes that spoke of a desperate struggle to stay alive, despite their difficulty in zeroing in on the face of his rescuer, and his mind was set. He made a promise:

"You'll be fine, kid. What's your name?"

"Minato," was the soft reply.

Jiraiya repeated the name and plastered a reassuring smile on his face as he continued to remove the debris trapping the boy, all the while forcing himself to ignore the whimpers that erupted every time he shifted something.

Meanwhile, Tsunade had arrived and was quick to start working on one of her medical techniques, her hands glowing green as she assessed her patient's condition. Her brows furrowed a bit deeper with each area her hands swept over, until she cut off all chakra flow to her hands and shot her teammate a grim shake of the head from where the boy could not see her.

"No! Don't give up on him!" was the immediate response. "You have to do what you can, Tsunade. He's just a little kid..." Jiraiya pleaded at the same time he redoubled his efforts to free the little child with the wide soulful eyes.

"Jiraiya..." she paused, not wanting to have this discussion in front of the hurting child. She expertly searched through her pouch of medical supplies and produced a thin packet. Ripping it open with her teeth, she extracted a piece of cloth and pressed it against the child's nose. Blue eyes focused on her briefly in panic before drooping closed. A demanding shout immediately came from the direction of her teammate.

"What are you doing?!"

"Calm down!" Tsunade exclaimed in irritation. "I put him out because of the pain. Now listen to me! His injuries are too extensive. He would not live much longer, even if I was somehow able to give him the treatment he needs in a proper facility. Let him go, Jiraiya. With the dosage of anaesthetic I just gave him, he'll be unconscious when it happens. Now come on, there might still be people out there who actually have a chance of surviving in need of our help," she finished, getting up and looking around in a circle as she said it.

"No," the toad summoner spoke with conviction. Tsunade turned back towards him at once, surprised by the serious tone of his voice. "Why does he have to die, Tsunade? What did he do to deserve this fate?"

Tsunade took in the determination and anguish in her teammate's eyes. Her experience as a medic had taught her long ago that life did not look upon the deserving any differently than the rest, and sometimes, no matter what one did or hoped for, there was nothing that could be done to save a person. Unfortunately, not only did Jiraiya lack that training, but it was completely against his character to keep himself so detached from his surroundings – the man wore his heart on his sleeve.

"Let him go, Jiraiya," she cautioned once more. "Let's go see if Orochimaru has had better luck than us."

"Tsunade!" he exclaimed. "You can't stand there and do nothing! You're the only one who can help him. You're the only one here with the power to keep him from having that kind of pointless death. He hasn't had the chance to grow up yet. Please, Tsunade... I promised him."

It was rare the occasion when Jiraiya spoke so seriously, so it was obvious how deeply the situation was affecting him.

Tsunade looked down at the passed out child. He had such big eyes... like her little brother Nawaki used to have. She had lost him recently – still just a genin – and a day had not gone by since where she did not ask herself whether there had been something more she could have done for him, anything that might have saved his life. The unsatisfying answers she kept coming back to always left her depressed and wishing there were some way she could go back in time and do that little extra bit more that would miraculously save the day. The sparkle in his expressive eyes and the ever-present flush on the cheeks which he had adamantly refused to call "cute" still haunted her.

And suddenly, she found that it was already too late. Her mind had made the decision for her while she had been daydreaming about the past: she could not do it anymore. She could not stand aside and let death take yet another person who was simply too young to go. Her eyes gained a fiery glint as she realized she was determined to fight for this one with tooth and nail, and win.

"All right, Jiraiya, move aside. I'm going to need some room..."