Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Kishimoto.
Reading Instruction: Enjoy yourself.
AN: My gratitude for all the editing folks over at DLP.
MONKEY BUSINESS
Chapter I
Rushing wind. The kind that left you deaf while you leapt from branch to branch. There were other sounds, of course. Naruto knew he'd hear them all the moment he landed and jerked the world back to clarity. The noise of insects filling the evening. The beat of his heart. Sandals on wood.
Sakura leapt right beside him, her feet touching the branches in perfect synchrony to his as they pushed off again. It gave him the willies. It also made him glance at her more often. Two years apart had given her a kind of charm that made it hard to focus.
They rushed along the outskirts of an unnamed swamp, together, even though she should have been in Konoha and he with the old pervert.
Naruto still did not understand how all this came about.
The swamp, in any case, was unnamed because it was a newborn—two months old, if you were picky about it. Such a sudden growth of muck and still water raised eyebrows, especially on an island where the people didn't even have a word for swamp.
He shot another sideway glance at Sakura and sent a mental Thank You to Jiraiya. The old pervert had insisted just a month ago that he'd gotten too tall for his old clothes, and why would the apprentice of The Most Suave Man On Earth run around in garish tatters anyway?
He hadn't known what the word 'garish' meant, but Jiraiya's expression filled him in just fine. They fought, he was mulish, the old man was mulish, and ultimately what solved the issue had been a coin toss, an ice-cream of reconciliation and a night full of stories.
All things said and done, Naruto thought he didn't make too bad a cut these days.
Just in time, too . . .
They stopped their sprint across tree tops once they reached a gnarled ash tree covered in lichen. The noise of insects and birds came back, as did the foul smell of nature grown lazy that he'd managed to ignore while moving.
"That's the last one," said Sakura, holding a map in her hand and smiling at him.
She gave the tree a look of relief. The same kind that Naruto had seen a hundred times on Jiji's face when he only had one document to sign left before they could go for lunch.
"I'll get it," said Naruto, pushing the mental picture of the deceased Hokage away. Sakura's voice and smile made that a lot easier than when he was alone.
Besides, it was time to show that apprenticed to The Most Suave Man On Earth was The Most Amazing Student Under The Stars.
Naruto reached into his backpack and pulled out a rectangular sheet of paper. He slapped it against the tree and used chakra to make it stick. Then, with blood from his thumb, he smeared a circle on it.
There was no reaction from Sakura, but then, she hadn't shown any for the last twenty trees either.
The best part was yet to come anyway.
"That's it," he said. "I can do the main seal now, and then we can go back and find the old pervert."
She studied at the small paper sticking to the tree. "Are you sure we shouldn't leave that to Jiraiya-sama?"
Naruto waved her off. "'s all good. Isn't anything too complicated. Gimme the map, will you?"
She was a bit hesitant, then shrugged and gave him the map. "Sure."
He called up a clone to transform into a desk. Then, with precise strokes of his thumb, he put the seal together. Jiraiya had told him that, even if blood made seals more potent, most shinobi used ink because blood was in limited supply. But since he had the Kyuubi healing him it wouldn't be a bother.
Soon, red lines wriggled across the back of the map. He could smell Sakura as she leaned over his shoulder to get a better look.
Concentrate, Uzumaki, he thought, putting down the last detail. Seals could be volatile. Jiraiya had made that clear when he botched one on purpose, exploding a stack of filled Ramen bowls.
"Done," he said.
A chakra surge later, pieces of paper burst into flames on twenty trees around the swamp, leaving no trace behind. The seal would measure whether the swamp still grew, and if so at which speed. On the map, a blue line drew itself, next to it a bunch of numbers for measurements—none of which he knew anything to do with. That was Jiraiya's part of the deal.
Naruto's lips twitched. A job well done.
With the rolled up map in his hand he dispelled the table-clone and stretched himself. "Back to town then," he said. "'S better if we hurry. We'll be in trouble if we don't get the old pervert out of the bar before night sets in."
"How so?"
"Most of the special ladies show up. Right impossible to get him out with them around."
Sakura made a face. "He's . . . quite a character, isn't he?"
"You've got no idea," said Naruto, though he couldn't help the grin, which, in the right light, could be seen to wander into a slightly more lecherous position. Luckily, evening in a swamp made for bad light.
They were about to set off when Naruto became aware of being watched. His meager sense for chakra pinged away in the back of his head.
He wheeled around to the source.
All he saw was rapidly advancing fur and two balloon-like eyes. There was a sudden weight on his shoulder. The distinct smell of animal sweat. Then it was gone. He was left staring at his empty hands.
Close by, a male monkey watched them. He looked as though he considered using his newly acquired map as a cape, but then he backed off from that idea and began studying the strange paper by holding it upside down.
Ignoring how it made him feel to have been stolen from by an animal, Naruto used his best bed-room tip-toeing style to approach, holding his hands up in a non-threatening gesture.
"All good, little fella. I don't want to do anything to you," he said, inching closer, "but you've got somethin' important there, so I'd be really happy if you could, you know, give it to me . . . "
The monkey, who sported on his chin a fuzzy patch of fur resembling a goatee, narrowed his eyes.
Then he turned his head to Sakura. Using the inattention, Naruto leapt. The monkey swung himself with a liana atop of Naruto's head, let out a shriek, and scampered down the other side.
There was heat all over Naruto's face. He just knew he looked like a tomato right now.
Sakura snickered. The red crept just that little bit farther for it.
"I don't think that'll work, Naruto," she said, with that thin line of lips pressed together not because you're angry but because you can't hold in your laughter any other way.
The monkey stepped cautiously around Naruto and toward Sakura. Then he held out the map and pointed at her back.
"It wants to . . . make a deal?" said Naruto.
"Looks like it," said Sakura.
"Do monkeys do that?"
Sakura crouched and rifled through her bag. "Not the faintest. This one seems to . . . "
She fished a ration bar out of the bag, the wrapping reading 'FOOD IS PLEASURE: TASTY BARS FOR STRONG SHINOBI—NOW WITH EXTRA CRUNCH'
She held out the bar, gesturing at the map.
The monkey shook his head, raising his arm three times. Sakura took out two more bars and held up all three of them. The monkey nodded imperiously at a place two feet away from Sakura.
She put the bars down there, then retreated. The monkey jumped over to the bars, throwing the map at Sakura, and for a short moment Naruto felt a surge of vindication as the little shite was confronted with the fact that he didn't know how to carry three bars, only being able to take one in each hand. Then the monkey lowered his head and took the last bar between his teeth.
Next to Naruto, Sakura made an impression of professionalism. He knew it was faked though. She wanted to laugh, he could see that.
Suppressing the urge to throw up his arms, he said, "Now that we've got the map, let's hurry. I've got enough of this swamp for the day."
Sakura nodded. Together they made for the trees.
As Naruto leapt onto the first one, he thought he heard a repressed snigger and lowered his head, his ears hot as burning coals.
Kinzoku was the central town on the island of Danube. And it had precisely two things going for it. The first of those things was the city's port, out of which a steady supply of material found its way into hands that just waited to use it for the annual Danube Festival in Kinzoku. That was a good thing, because when Naruto had turned sixteen last month Jiraiya had promised him that he'd get to enjoy the next festival they chanced upon.
Jiraiya had, after all, no intention to lose his title as best unknown godfather. Not after he'd seen the light at least.
The second valuable point in Kinzoku, which arguably had made it the biggest city on the island, was that here, Danube's first brothel had been founded. A happenstance that soon spawned a whole evolution of the islanders' views. Nowhere was that more obvious than on a specific street in Kinzoku that was lit with red lanterns, jammed solid with drunks, and drowning in an arousing, flower-like fragrance.
In the noble establishment of Lady Hyume, The Finely Distilled Rose, which was considered among regulars to be the finest of its kind, The Most Suave Man On Earth shared a cup of Sake with two courtesans.
He liked the smell of both, one more smoky and alluring in a darker, mysterious way, like an unknown campfire in a forest at night; the other fresh, fruity—if he were to guess: powdered with some sort of mixture between apple and cinnamon—much like an invitation into a warm and sunny home, behind the doors of which unspeakable delights would occur, of course, but never without a smile.
And yet . . .
He held them closer to him, feeling their curves press into his sides. No. There was no 'and yet.' He wouldn't let this evening be ruined.
"Do you wish to drink more, master?"
Jiraiya smiled down at her. The smile of a true gentleman. "I'd much rather hold you like this."
His hand wandered a bit lower.
And in a game the rules of which had been perfected across the history of humankind, the courtesan replied with a demure look, acted out with startling precision, and nestled up against him some more, making for all intents and purpose the impression of a young, shy girl freshly fallen in love.
Perfect. Divine!
Then there was boisterous laughter from a sectioned-off area close by.
And yet . . .
Jiraiya sighed. As a Sannin it didn't behoove him to run away from reality—though there was an argument to be made that all three of the Sannin were very good runners. The reality, stark, naked, ugly, was that Jiraiya of the Sannin felt crowded in a place that usually promised intimacy and privacy, at least in regards to how much he acknowledged the presence of other men.
These goddamn flunkies though had been grinding his gears for an hour now. He was all for the enjoyment of life, his own, but also his fellow man's. But from the din alone he surmised that the whole place was overflowing with people, and that was definitely a sign of too many men for his tastes. Crudely spoken, the ratio of women to men in a whorehouse should never be inverted. If there was one universal law, it was this.
And right now, someone dared to swing a pickaxe at such an important pillar of living together in peace and fraternity.
Worse, over the last hour, the courtesans tending to him had reduced their numbers from five to two, and already he feared that should another man enter the house, that number would shrink even further. Perhaps he'd be left all alone in the end. An old man, deserted even by those he paid for their company. Somewhere in that mess was an actual existential trauma to discover and investigate, but introspection wasn't really why he was here.
The soft ring of a bell alerted him to another newcomer.
Jiraiya closed his eyes. There it was . . .
He heard footsteps and then the paper-wall sectioning them off from the other customers was pulled aside.
"That's, erm, that's it for tonight, ladies. He won't be needing you . . . anymore?"
Ah. A familiar voice. Why did it sound so unsure of itself? Jiraiya opened his eyes, and found Naruto fixed in a mental battle. Jiraiya grinned. It seemed like the lad couldn't quite decide whether to stare at the courtesans, both of which showed more than enough skin to incite the mind of a young man, or keep up a face of faked indifference, by looking at . . . Sakura, was it? Yes, by looking at Sakura, who herself regarded the whole scene with the kind of silent expression that never spelled happiness, no matter which woman you found it on.
Jiraiya nodded and gave the ladies a last good squeeze. On Sakura's face, the respect for authority found itself in bitter conflict with reality.
The more mature courtesan turned an enquiring gaze toward Naruto. "Do you wish a drink, valued customer?"
"Er . . . not right now, thank you," said Naruto. He'd found his resolve and stared with admirable tenacity at point just above Jiraiya's shoulder.
A last saucy wink, saying "You know how to call for us," then both courtesans had slid shut the paper door.
Naruto plopped himself down on the ground. Sakura seated herself in a more dignified way.
Silence descended on them, thick and unmistakably filled with a clash of disparate emotions ranging from silent outrage over awkwardness to humor.
Ah, to be young again . . .
Hearing another shout of laughter from the area beside him, Jiraiya tapped a finger on the table and, with the other hand, reached for his pipe. A web of lines stretched across the floor and up the paper walls. It flashed blue once, then died down.
"You're back. Let's see it," said Jiraiya.
Naruto handed him the map.
"Any problems with the seal?" Jiraiya asked, studying the measurements.
"Worked well enough," said Naruto. "No real problem to speak of . . . well, to be honest it looks like any other swamp, old man. There's mosquitos and snakes and birds—"
"And the occasional monkey," Sakura added with a smile.
Jiraiya glanced at her. A memory strong enough to break her out of her silent anger so quickly? He would have to investigate later, especially with that kind of expression on Naruto's face. Part of being a good story teller was always to know where good stories were buried and then to not let go, like an angry dog that found a treat.
"Looks good to me," said Jiraiya. "Well done, both of you."
"Why is the growth of the swamp so important?" asked Sakura.
Jiraiya placed the map on the table. "It shows intent."
"How so?"
Jiraiya traced the area circled by the blue line with his finger. "Most people don't go around putting unnatural swamps into places for no reason. Give me one."
Naruto grinned. "Landscaping."
"Funny guy," said Jiraiya with an equally stretched grin, "but don't be too immature, a lady is watching. Now, give me a real reason."
For a second Naruto struggled against the patches of red on his cheeks and avoided looking at Sakura. "Could be to hide something," he muttered.
"If it's that," said Sakura, sitting up straighter, "the swamp might not grow anymore if it already hides what it should. And if it still grows, it has another aim? Like . . . a provocation?" She frowned at the map. "To get Konoha involved?"
"One out of two," said Jiraiya. "It's unlikely that whoever did this planned to get Konoha involved. Danube is far off and usually out of the sphere of shinobi influence. Then again, perhaps the swamp is meant to divert attention in general? If it's there, there must be something happening inside it, right? While the real business usually goes on somewhere else . . . "
"So we know nothing," said Naruto.
"Think again," said Jiraiya. "We know for a fact that there is something happening on this island. And we know that we might run in circles if we only concentrate on the swamp itself. Now whether the sodden thing still grows or not, we've done a good job for the day." He put away his pipe. "There's something else I've got to tell you, but this isn't the right place."
Jiraiya broke the seal, and they made to leave The Distilled Rose hearing the hoots and groans of far too many men to be comfortable. As Jiraiya went by the register, a paper door nearby slid open and a courtesan swayed outside. In the split-second the door was open, he saw a group of men laze on tatami mats inside the room, their arms full of women. They wore strange black bands around their biceps.
More than enough to make an honest man angry.
Not to appear suspicious, Jiraiya stepped outside and felt a blast of cold night air hit him in the face.
He'd taken notice of the men's faces, memorized them even, because that had been the direction where all the annoying laughter had come from, and he'd be damned if he didn't find a way, somehow, to make those men's lives a bit more difficult if they still were around in the coming days.
No one ever said a Sannin wasn't capable of pettiness.
Perched on a tree, a monkey with a goatee observed the glittering lights of Kinzoku just a mile away. He had really no idea why he left the swamp behind, but something in his primitive brain told him that Kinzoku was the place to be right then. He felt exhilarating jolts when his amygdala activated: one for the image of a strange blond ape, the mocking of which had been delicious; and one for the image of a pink ape, just as strange in her form, but beautiful, exotic, and a good business-ape. In his esteemed opinion: altogether attractive qualities in a mate.
The monkey finished off the ration bar in his paw with a crunch and looked at the crumpled wrapper in his hand. He couldn't make sense of it, but he found the shapes pretty and fascinating. Especially the F, the I, and the P. They gave him a strong sense of identity somehow.
Strange stuff.
Shrugging, Fip scrambled down the tree. And as he knuckled his way through the high grass, aiming straight for the city, he never even once questioned how come he had no other memories beside of those two other monkeys. He just knew instinctively that this was a fine way to function.
"Odd geezer," said Naruto, settling down in the room they had rented for the night, while Jiraiya scribbled on a scroll and Sakura unpacked her bag. "Looked as if we're Ramen thieves or somethin'."
Jiraiya finished the last line. "Why do you think that is?"
"Maybe you scared him?"
"I'm as gentle as they come."
Sakura unsealed a little teapot and a set of cups, all with pretty flowers on them that Naruto for the life of him could not identify.
"I don't think he was scared of us," said Sakura. "He seemed anxious in general if that makes sense." She lined up the cups on the flat table, then looked about the room. "You see a tap, Naruto?"
"There's communal showers down the hallway," he said. "Not sure you want that kind of water . . . " Then an idea struck and he cleared his throat. "Gimme the pot, will ya? I know just the thing."
After she deposited it in his hands, he put it on the floor, went through hand seals and concentrated. A moment later, the pot filled itself with water and he breathed a sigh of relief. This Jutsu was always a fifty-fifty kind of deal. He wasn't really a water guy, but Jiraiya had been clear that he'd learn at least some basic survival stuff under his watch. Something about utilitics and not varnishing a solid reputation—whatever that meant.
Naruto suspected anyway that the rain from yesterday had helped.
Sakura took the filled pot and eyed the water inside. Then she said "That's really useful, thanks, Naruto!" and if that weren't enough, she also smiled and asked, "Mind teaching me that one when you've got time? Getting water is always such a chore when I'm on missions."
To which Naruto couldn't really say anything save, "No trouble. It ain't too hard and you've got a knack for control and stuff, so you'll get it easy for sure," ignoring all the while Jiraiya, who gave him the thumbs up behind Sakura's back.
"Anyway," said Naruto, scratching at his neck, "What's that you wanted to tell us, old pervert?"
Jiraiya stared at them in silence for a good while after that question. Naruto cocked his head. Jiraiya didn't grow serious often, but when he did it mostly meant that listening up was important because something bad was going on.
"I'm sure," said Jiraiya, "that you've been wondering why Tsunade sent you on this mission, Sakura. Danube is a good distance away from Konoha. Usually problems in this area wouldn't be in our jurisdiction, and if they were we'd send people more inconspicuous and . . . well, skilled, than a team of Chūnin and Genin."
Sakura nodded while tending to the tea in a mechanical manner, as if she'd done this kind of thing a hundred times already while listening to important information.
"We are a disparate team," she said. "To be honest, that's mostly because of you though, Jiraiya-sama. Genin and Chūnin is one thing, but throwing a Sannin into the mix? I don't think the swamp is why we're really here."
True enough, thought Naruto, then again, the old pervert is overkill for almost any mission.
He'd just traveled with him for so long now that he hadn't seen it earlier.
Somewhere in the back of his brain, a group of synapses fired at high-speed, trying to make sense of everything, and somehow—a second later—the picture of Orochimaru and Sasuke flickered into existence in his mind.
Naruto's pulse quickened. While the image kept bouncing around, his head tried to supply reasons for why this was actually the case.
"It's Sasuke," he said, voice grim. Because why else organize a get together of Team Seven?
Jiraiya raised an eyebrow. He didn't seem surprised. "It is," he said. "One of my contacts on Danube might have seen someone that looks like him—I'll have to verify that later on. Whether Orochimaru himself is on the island we don't know; the chance is rather low though. It's clear, however, that he's interested in it. Our mission is to find out why, and if we've got the time, to take care of the swamp thing. They're likely related anyway."
"So we're foiling the snake bastard," said Naruto. "And we're looking for clues about Sasuke."
"That's not what he said, Naruto," said Sakura with some exasperation.
Jiraiya waved her off. "He's got selective hearing. It's fine."
Naruto stared at the cup of tea in front of him. Granny Tsunade was mental if she thought she could send him on a mission like this and not have him look for Sasuke. And since he never thought of her as silly—old and drunk, yes, never silly—he knew this was one of those look beneath-the-underneath moments, where what you actually had to do was different than what they told you to.
Naruto felt a thrill. Should they find Sasuke, they'd have a chance to convince him to come home . . .
He saw his expression mirrored on Sakura's face. They would find him, and they would bring him back, one way or another: the other way being a good-natured fist in Sasuke's face, so that he could taste each knuckle once, solely for the sake of feeling how upsetting it actually was to others to be such a miserable bastard and leave in the first place.
"So," said Naruto, emerging from his thoughts, "what're we goin' to do? It's not like he'll show himself or anything if we ask nicely. Sasuke's too . . . Sasuke-ish for a mistake like that."
"Sasuke-ish . . ." Jiraiya pronounced the word slowly, as if to taste it. Then his brows furrowed. "I hope both of you understand that right now he's an enemy to Konoha." He observed them, then sighed, murmuring "Should've known . . . " to himself. Louder he continued, "Listen up. I know he's your teammate, and we'll do whatever we can to find him. But!"—Jiraiya jabbed his finger at Naruto's face—"And I'm serious on this, don't go into this thinking of him as a friend you just need to have some words with."
Jiraiya went on, "The world's not that easy, kiddo. It doesn't work like that, even if it damn well should. Listen, I . . ." Jiraiya stopped himself mid-sentence, shrugged his way out of the remembrance, and tried to muster a smile that hung sullenly on half-mast. "Look, I'm not saying that you go for his jugular the moment you meet him—settle down, I know you wouldn't anyway, Naruto—but I want you to keep in mind that he might do it."
The look on Jiraiya's face, of having grapple hooks tearing at your gaze and pulling it forcefully into the past, had been enough to keep Naruto still until that last part.
But some things you couldn't let stand.
"He won't do that!" Lowering his voice, Naruto went on, "He won't. He's still Sasuke, and even if he's all obsessed with his brother and can't really see much else he won't kill us. It's . . . dumb is what it is"—Naruto gripped the part of his shirt where two years prior Sasuke had put a dent in him—"he'd rough us up or insult us, but he'd never go for the kill."
"I also don't think he'd kill us . . ." said Sakura, her voice carrying far more conviction than Naruto's.
Staring at a spot on Jiraiya's hand guards, Naruto remembered that he'd never told Sakura about Sasuke's Chidori. For all she knew, they'd knocked themselves silly with Taijutsu. And if he was honest, he didn't want to tell her any different.
Jiraiya sighed. "I really should've known . . . Okay, listen, I see it won't get me anywhere to argue this, but I still want you to be careful if you meet him. He's been with Orochimaru for two years now. If deserting your village doesn't change you, then that definitely will. Now get some sleep, you two."
"And where'll you be?" Naruto asked as Jiraiya put on his jacket.
"Doing some night-time investigating. Can't be too careful."
Sakura shot him a blank look. "Right . . . "
"Get yourself to bed," he said. "Tomorrow will be a long day."
Naruto hugged a chopstick. It was life-sized, a bit wet at the bottom, and smelled faintly of noodle broth. He'd also had a strange conversation with Teuchi. About the toppings that would fit best to someone swimming in a pool of chakra currently being drained like an unclogged toilet, with the appropriate noise, of course.
He turned on his stomach, some saliva trickling down his chin.
A second chopstick approached, all pink, with delicate engravings. He giggled at the thought of holding that chopstick as well.
And because dreams are just that, the normal chopstick which he'd hugged so far didn't make much of a scene and evaporated, freeing space in Naruto's arms for the pink one. No struggle, because why ever would chopsticks fight?
With a salacious swing of its quadratic curves, the pink chopstick walked closer and then tapped his shoulder. Naruto reached for it but the chopstick, perhaps a bit bashful, retreated.
"Hehe . . . a bit shy?" he mumbled into his pillow. "Or d'you like to tease?"
"Naruto . . ."
Sakura's voice penetrated the haze of his dream. However, in that lurid place in-between dream and wakefulness was usually when the strangest things happened. With some anticipation in his gut, and after two years on the road with Jiraiya, Naruto half-expected the pink chopstick to turn into a scantily clad woman any moment now.
"Naruto."
The whisper just got a lot sharper. He opened his eyes blearily to Sakura, who was shaking his shoulder.
The thought "not naked" passed between his ears, then he noticed that the moon still shone into their room, kick-starting shinobi instincts he usually dialed down while sleeping.
"I'm up," he whispered back, feeling for the kunai under his pillow. If Sakura didn't wake him in the night to cuddle, only a distant possibility, then something more dangerous was going on.
"Chakra," said Sakura. "One signature, lower floor. Not Jiraiya-sama, but it's . . . strong."
"You think he's here for us?"
"We're the only residents right now, I checked the register before we went to our room."
Outside they heard footfall up the stairs.
Now, given such a situation, shinobi with good training were supposed to weigh their options, mainly: stay and fight or get the hell out. Such a decision should be made on a rational basis, Jiraiya always said, and there was no shame in choosing flight if your enemy was strong enough to make meat patties out of you. The most important technique a shinobi could learn was to stay alive, because dead men didn't just tell no tales, with minimal exceptions they were also entirely useless most of the time.
So, having weighed his options for all of half a second, Naruto jumped to his feet in his pajamas. Just as the signature arrived before the room, he delivered a flying round-house kick to the door.
The kick broke the door in two with enough force to unhinge both parts, sending them crashing into whoever graced their doorstep. Using the moment of surprise, Naruto leapt forward, kunai ready, and barely had to time to catch a fist. The punch catapulted him back into the room. He needed both arms to brace himself for his fall so the kunai clattered to the floor.
Just that his journey didn't stop how he predicted. Instead he went right through the wall. He landed with his back on the pavement outside the inn. Looking up he saw the stars, the moon, then Sakura as she jumped after him, picked him up from the cobbles and leapt to another roof.
"You alright?"
"'m fine," he said, getting back to his feet. That wasn't quite how he'd expected to find himself in her arms.
From the hole, a woman jumped down into the street, then stared right at them with cold indifference. Naruto knew that he was hardy enough to cash in on a lot of hits, but that had hurt. He couldn't remember the last time a fist sent him flying like that.
The kunoichi leapt after them.
Naruto took to another roof with Sakura.
"Not in the city," he said to her. "Worst case we've got to pay for the damages."
Sakura's carefully assembled, shinobi-adequate expression cracked. "That's your concern?"
"One of them," he said, clearing the last roof at high speed and vaulting over the wall circling Kinzoku.
Sakura really had no understanding how things like this panned out. But he knew. Oh, yes, he knew well how, in a merchant town, 'capitalistic interests,' as Jiraiya called it, trumped being nice to a man who just got attacked any time of day. However dangerous this was, he wouldn't risk Gama-chan's belly again. The door and the wall were bad enough already for one night.
"She's following us."
Naruto sped up. A good mile away from Kinzoku they stopped. It was a cold night to wear a pajama outside.
The woman touched down a few feet away.
"Can't let a guy sleep'n peace?" Naruto asked. "Who're you?"
He had a moment to appreciate her speed, then all his brainpower was relegated to blocking and diverting her punches, all of which had enough force behind them to make his hands hurt.
Her knuckles sliced by, close enough to split hairs on his cheek. Clones, he thought. If you couldn't get them with one pair of fists, you could always try with a few dozen more. He jerked back from her fist, switched to the cross-shaped seal—
The kunoichi grabbed his wrists.
There was a light in her eyes, then her hands stood in flames. Heat seared through his flesh where they touched. A scream clawed out of his throat. Suddenly the flaming hand was gone, and Sakura stood next to him, fist clenched, arm outstretched. Naruto shrugged out of his burning shirt.
"Let me take a look," Sakura said, hands glowing green and hovering above his wrist. "You're always so reckless," she added, looking at him with some worry in her eyes as she kept healing him.
"That's how I fight," Naruto said with a wince as the cool sensation of Sakura's chakra spread through his arm. "Where's she?" he asked.
"Didn't fly far, I'm afraid," said Sakura. "We need to coordinate."
"Can you hit like that again?"
"Any time."
Naruto grinned at the touch of pride in her voice.
The sizzle of fire alerted Naruto of the kunoichi's return. She sped at them, both arms trailing behind her, drawing fiery lines into the night.
His mind worked quickly.
Jiraiya's Teachings of Combat – Entry 37: Don't dive in without knowing jack about what's up, stupid.
He'd had kind of forgotten that rule when he kicked in the door, but now it was present, right at the front of his mind—and also lingering as phantom spasm in the wrist Sakura had just healed.
Clones popped into existence beside him. They wasted no time bum rushing the kunoichi, trying to figure out what she could do, how she fought, which way her ass could be kicked the most efficiently.
He, in the meantime, settled down on his haunches and watched the fight. In this matter what happened after he dispelled his clones was far more important than observing every move they made now. Because dispelling always gave him a strange gut feeling. Nothing precise, but an instinctual way to respond.
Not that this was a new skill. He'd known for a while now that the longer he fought the same opponent with clones, the stronger he'd get right then during the fight. It just never had been clear until Jiraiya told him to stay back as long as his clones went about their business. Until then he'd always thought it was just him growing more awesome on the spot.
The kunoichi—hands lit like red, angry iron—laid waste to the army of clones with grace that seemed unreal, tapping them, then evading and moving on, eliciting screams and the sound of burning flesh as she went.
You couldn't really call what he did analyzing, Naruto knew, because for that more of his brain would have to be engaged. Rather he watched anxiously for them to be done, to get his gut feeling, while bouncing on his haunches like a mad squirrel.
Sitting back was the worst. The endless sessions of patience the old pervert made him sit through on a daily basis always had that feel about them, of a prison without Ramen, the ugliest of all worlds combined.
If that's what it took to become a great general, like Jiraiya said, then screw greatness and all the forms it rode in on. He'd just become exceptional instead. A general who'd be strong enough to lay everyone out regardless of prior information. That'd make a much cooler Hokage anyway. Who'd ever want to read 'and then he waited some more until he finally got a move on' about himself in the history books?
The last clone died an agonizing death that sent a shiver down his spine which was overridden immediately by relief.
Finally!
Naruto jumped to his feet.
"You know your part?" he asked Sakura, who had watched the pitched slaughter of clones with morbid curiosity.
"Yes," she said. "Do they really feel no pain?"
He shrugged. "I don't. They're dead anyway."
The kunoichi walked toward them, not making the impression of having even had a good workout. He'd at least hoped for heavy breathing. The woman was composed though, and he knew he found this kind of composure really annoying and also strangely familiar, something he wanted to put a fist to.
"Let's go."
Naruto and Sakura shot forward, again in that strange synchrony—which he knew was her doing—and soon they were obscured by a second massive wave of clones. His gut told him one thing: getting her immobile would require some sacrifice.
The clones began their assault again, and he mixed with them, and then took, on purpose, a hit right to the stomach that sent him skidding across the floor. As the kunoichi glanced at him, he thought, Yes, it's the real me, now come get me and we can get on with this.
Ignoring the other clones she sped at his prone body, arms up to the shoulders wreathed in fire.
Her palm came at him, a solid sheet of flames.
He lifted his hands to block the hit.
As her palm closed in, two spurts of water from his clones—a simple technique horribly over-powered—hit her hands, enveloping both of them in a curtain of steam.
Flesh met flesh, luckily without fire between both sides, but even then it felt much like taking hold of a pot right out of the oven.
But that'll do, he thought, gritting his teeth through the pain. He held fast to her hands while more and more clones piled on her, grabbing at her legs and shoulders. You're not getting out of this.
And she wouldn't because his gut also told him that she hadn't once used an attack to get rid of several clones at once, which meant Taijutsu and fancy, hot arms: nothing to get you out of a pinch if you were already pinned down.
"Now!—ahh, hot hot hot!" he screamed, as the kunoichi funneled more chakra into her arms, letting them go up in flames once more.
A long shadow passed over them. A good distance behind the cluster of clones and the kunoichi, more clones had formed a tree-high whip, generating momentum, holding one another at their arms and legs. And at the end of that whip hung Sakura, fists all revved up for whatever trick she did to punch like Grandma Tsunade.
An ominous whistle, then the human mace crashed down on them with a furious outcry.
"Shannaro!"
Naruto woke to the sensation of Sakura's chakra coursing through his body. It healed the damage of which he'd taken little notice during the attack—mostly rock splinters that had gotten under his skin. The reason for him being unconscious, and he'd do his best to never tell her that, wasn't so much the pain he cashed in on after Sakura's fist hit the kunoichi and also him, but rather the sheer devastation that occurred afterward.
The way one punch of hers had entirely reshaped the landscape jarred so much with his prior picture of her as someone to be protected—now as a medic nin even more so—that he'd been unable to cope with it.
Hence the world turning black.
Sakura's face hovered over his, concern written all over it. "Is it better now? I didn't think it'd reach you like that."
He smiled, still half-grappling with this new revelation. "'s alright, Sakura. 'm fine. That wouldn't ever kill me before I get to be Hokage."
"Normally that's the kind of sentence that'd make me look for a concussion," she said. "But in your case that'd mean you've been concussed your whole life." Her hands stopped glowing. "You've got burns on your palms but I blocked the pain receptors for now. I can mix a salve for that when we're back at the inn."
Yeah, the inn. He really couldn't wait to get back there . . . Not because of the salve: the Kyuubi would take care of his burns. But he needed some peace and quiet to process all this.
Naruto climbed to his feet and found that this way the destruction Sakura had caused became even more apparent. Little of the high grass could be seen anymore; the whole ground was rocky and upturned, like a field ploughed by a Bijū with a penchant for agriculture; here and there trees stuck out of the rubble the wrong way around, thick roots hanging about their trunks like bad toupees.
You couldn't ever be sure with shinobi, but the odds of anyone surviving a direct hit of a punch like this were somewhere about zero.
"So where's she?" he asked, trying to find a half-destroyed body between the rubble and shoving away the implication of what Sakura's fists could do to a human.
"Escaped," said Sakura, her tone taking on a dangerous edge. "I don't know how, but there's no body anywhere."
A problem presented itself. What to be more afraid of? Sakura's anger at not having succeeded, or the thought that a kunoichi strong enough to survive that could still be lingering around?
Naruto put on his best smile. The one he'd always used when he tried to wheedle more bowls out of Teuchi.
"'s not your fault, Sakura."
"Of course it's not my fault," she said, the edges around her eyes softening.
Naruto nodded winsomely. "Must've been some special Jutsu, to make her escape like that. Can't tell stuff like that from the get go."
"It is a bit hard to predict, isn't it?"
"Right about that," said Naruto. "Woman's got tricks in her bag, that's for sure. Can't be too careful. At least now we know. That's good."
Sakura spent another thirty seconds crunching a pebble to death under her sandals. Then she sighed and the poor thing found relief.
"Thanks for trying to cheer me up, Naruto."
"No idea what you mean."
"Of course," she said, her lips pulling up. "We should look around. No matter how good she is, she might've lost something during the fight or her escape."
"Way ahead of you there," said Naruto.
Sakura turned and came face to face with a crowd of clones climbing through the rubble, searching for clues.
"When did you . . . "
"A moment ago," he said.
Because if there was one thing mastering the Kage Bunshin taught you, it's that deciding on doing just one thing isn't anything you have to settle for if you don't want to. When life gave you the choice of calming Sakura on the one hand and securing yourself against a possible attack on the other, then in his humble opinion, Uzumaki Naruto was uniquely qualified to do both.
A moment later, one of the clones ran up to them and handed him a black cloth. "That's all, boss. Nothin' else we can find in this mess."
The clone offered Sakura a cheeky salute, then puffed away.
Naruto held the cloth up to his eyes. "That look familiar to you, Sakura?"
Sakura shook her head. "Nothing I know."
"How 'bout we take this to the old pervert and see what he's got to say 'bout this."
"Not necessary," came Jiraiya's voice from behind them. He stood a few yards away from them, balancing on one of the upturned trees, surveying the destruction.
"That's Tsunade for you," he muttered. "Should've known she'd make a little monster out of you . . . "
"A bit late, aren't ya?" said Naruto.
Jiraiya shrugged. "I was busy. But for now we should . . . vacate the premises."
Naruto raised an eyebrow. "They comin'?"
"Yup," said Jiraiya. "Let's leg it."
Which they did, and just in time to reach the high grass where they could hide. From Kinzoku, a long row of torches wound itself to Sakura's landscaping project. Naruto immediately saw the wisdom in Jiraiya's advice. He knew just too well who'd be held responsible if they found them there . . .
When they arrived back at the inn, Naruto felt the loss of sleep getting to him. Before he could nap until sunrise though, Jiraiya insisted on a report. Apparently such an encounter wasn't just brushed off for a night even if they gave him a rough description and a rundown on the way back.
Sakura had stretched a bed sheet across the broken door frame, but the hole in the wall was conspicuously absent.
Naruto glanced at Jiraiya.
"What'd you do?"
"Patched it up, obviously."
Sakura knelt before the table which had avoided destruction by a hair's breadth. Rubbing her arms she said, "There's a draft though. Genjutsu?"
"Very good," said Jiraiya. "You could learn something from her, Naruto. She's got an eye for detail."
"So you're shafting the owner?" said Naruto.
"It's a compromise. He gets money for the door, that should be enough."
"Does he know of your compromise?"
Jiraiya shrugged. "If it bothers you that much, you can pay him for the wall. As it stands, the door was pretty expensive already so you might not want to burden your wallet too much."
Naruto resisted the urge to reach for Gama-chan. He knew already that his wallet weighed less than before the attack. The old pervert constantly went on about 'fiscal responsibility'; his idea of teaching it was to make sure Naruto never had enough money, so that he'd always have to pinch no matter what. Somewhere in the depths of his mind lurked the fragile hope that Jiraiya wasn't such a bad man after all, that once their travels were over he'd hand Naruto a bag with all the money he'd taken—a real exercise, training, not being a dick: whatever you wished to call it, Naruto still hoped.
"So . . ." said Naruto, remembering the tatters of his pajamas. "We've got a black band and an attack. What d'you make of that?"
"She was good," said Sakura. "I could probably take her in close combat if the fire weren't there, but she used it all the time so it's a good guess that she's not only capable but also chakra efficient."
"You think Orochimaru sent her?" said Naruto.
Jiraiya hummed in his throat. "She's one of his agents, yes. Goes by the name of Adder if your description is correct. Appeared a few years ago in the Bingo Book. But I don't think she knew who you were, or she wouldn't have attacked. I'm pretty sure Orochimaru knows that you're traveling with me. We haven't been too inconspicuous on the road and he always gets a hold of such information quickly."
"She thought we're some small fish?"
"Pretty much, yes. That's my guess so far anyway. And if she's on the lookout for shinobi—who could potentially take care of the swamp—that means she's involved. Give me that, Sakura, will you?"
Sakura handed Jiraiya the black cloth.
"Mhh, I've seen that one before" said Jiraiya. "There seems to be an overflow of mercenaries as of late. With a surprising level of organization. I've heard there are two parts to them, one branch going to the mountains, the other's path is unclear."
"So we split up as well," said Sakura.
"Right," said Jiraiya. "I'll take the mountain enthusiasts. You can have the surprise box."
"That's nice of—"
Jiraiya's hand jerked up. He signed, 'Chakra. Small. Spy,' then jumped at the window, coming face to face with a monkey on the windowsill.
And while Jiraiya had a stare down with the monkey, Naruto entertained a host of questions, like: Why the hell was this monkey in their room? Could monkeys follow you? Do they have memories? All of which amounted to the hearty conclusion that he had no clue and it was probably safer for his sanity not to know.
Jiraiya took the monkey by the scruff of his neck and deposited him on the table. The monkey didn't even shriek.
He winked at Sakura though.
Jiraiya inspected the monkey. "This is odd . . ."
"You tell me," said Naruto. "We've met that guy in the jungle earlier and he's a bunch of trouble. Bugger must've followed us."
"That's not how monkeys work, Naruto," said Jiraiya. His hands lit up blue as he traced symbols around the monkey. "He's not a summon, so the much bigger question is: why does he use chakra?"
Naruto felt his memories jolt. He had sensed an attack back in the swamp. A small amount of inbound chakra, before the little guy had surprised him and stolen the map. He hadn't thought much about it, but the question was valid. Why did he have chakra?
Naruto frowned at the monkey, who made a rude gesture in his direction.
"Do you think he's a spy?" he asked.
"Not necessarily," said Sakura. As she came over to take a closer look, the monkey began puffing out his chest, stroking his fur. "Every living being has a certain amount of chakra," she added. "So it's no surprise that he has, too."
"The problem is that he didn't just have it, he actively used it," said Jiraiya. "The spike was small but it was there. He clung to the windowsill with it."
After careful deliberation, Naruto cocked his head and said, "He looks . . . unspy-ish. He's a trashed Ramen cup alright, but no spy, I think."
"That sums up my stance on the issue," said Jiraiya. "However, that's also exactly what a spy would want you to think, so it's a moot point. We can't chance having him here anyway." Jiraiya took the monkey once more by the scruff of his neck and put him in front of the curtain. "Sorry, buddy, but this place is a no-go zone." Then he made one-handed seals and the monkey let out a shriek. It pounded along the corridor, then down the stairs. Naruto looked out of the window as it scurried across the barely lit street.
"What'd you do?"
Jiraiya pushed the blanket closing off the door back in place. "Genjutsu. He thinks there's a group of lady monkeys just three alleys away."
" . . . and that worked?" said Sakura.
"It always does," Jiraiya said with some flourish. "Doesn't matter what species."
Sakura massaged her temples with a suffering sigh. "This night is just getting stranger."
"Just roll with it," Jiraiya said. "Best advice I ever got from my teacher. Now get some rest, you two. Tomorrow it'll all look better."
AN: Read; see. If these spectacles don't fit, put them down and take up another pair. Love, Eilyfe. PS: This'll be a novella amounting to roughly 40k words; two chapters left - your typical three arc structure.