LOL NEW STORY.

A short chapter to kick it off. By short, I mean even shorter than my usual short standards. Oops.

Unbeta'd, as per usual. Also – totally doesn't belong to me. The boys are all Kishimoto's, and he just won't share (whatever did his mother teach him?).


There are demons on Earth.

Only nine, however, and contrary to what many believe they cause no harm. They were bound so long ago, each of them. They are prisoners - tamed, chained, bound and contained. They reside in vessels – those of the Jinchuuriki, an ancient order of humans dedicated to harnessing the paranormal abilities of the demons for good. It is commitment, it is responsibility, and it is a near painful desire to perfect the world. But the world cannot be perfected, and time goes on.

As the century turns, there is change. The vessels grow old – they must still submit to the overruling laws of humankind, after all – and their minds grow weak. It is time one generation to end, and for another to begin. It is time for the Passing, and the cycle starts over. It continues, as always.

They meet. Tradition dictates a circle, and they sit – the cat of Africa, the sea monster of the oceans, the dragon of Asia. There is the dog of Australia, the weasel of North America and the snake of the South, as well as the badger of Europe. Finally there are the raccoon and the fox of Japan – because this is where the magic begins, and this is where it ends.

They are weary. They have protected for so long, by darkness. They need little sleep; some among them cannot sleep.

They have lived by daylight. A single life divided directly down the middle – it is difficult.

They meet, and the tradition begins.

Now is the time.

Find a successor.

But demons are far more powerful than even their vessels know, and they understand the universal laws in ways mere mortals cannot fathom. And after thousands of years, their anger is boundless.

Reincarnation is a natural order of the world. Souls are a resource, to be wiped and shined and recycled in the same way as water to rain, or coal to crystal.

These souls, the demons say, are old. They are the victorious generation (spat with so much hate), they have only lived once.

(but a lived life leaves an imprint, scarcely visible on the blinding soul)

But they will live again, now, at the demons command.

They are the key.

This is the time.

This is now.

This is a beginning

(and perhaps, yet, also an end)

and the machine is set in motion.


The circle is tense and silent. A book is creaked open, the ancient spine protesting its use. Everything is still.

Language is irrelevant here. The room thrums with energy – magic? The old scrolls call it something else – and all the rules are bent. Their tongues form alternative words without their will, neither Japanese nor English, nor anything else recognisable…a dead language, to all but them.

Charms are pulled from necks one by one and placed into the circular grooves before each seated figure. The charms begin to glow against the hard stone of the floor, and slowly a thread of light connects each. The circle is complete, and the thrown light sketches out robes and hidden faces.

A page is flipped, and one of the figures raises their arms.

Across the circle another robed shape shifts, and then bursts into a fit of giggles.

The tension in the room dissolves as fast as a whip crack and the first figure lowers their arms with an air of exasperation. The figure to the left of the second lets out a snort before joining in the laughter, while the one to the right huffs.

"Honestly Hiro, can't you take this seriously for once?" The voice was clearly female, and tight with irritation. "And Matthew, you're no better! Stop encouraging him! How old are you two again?"

The first figure has their head in their hands, while Matthew – the second to laugh – leans over and slaps a still-giggling Hiro on the back. "Hey hey, don't blame him! It's like a freaking church in here, you gotta laugh."

Another figure pipes up. "That's all well and good, but can we speed this up? I left the grandchildren with the husband and…well…"

"Sarah's right. Just because Hiro doesn't have to cross the Pacific to get home tonight -"

"Well, I'm still crossing the –"

"Bullshit, you're only going to Australia. That's like half the distance –"

"Will you all just shut up?"

All heads turned to the original figure, with the book still open in front of them. "Hiro," they continued. "Are you going to be quite alright? I can't actually continue this without you, you know, and I'd rather like to leave at some point."

Recovering, Hiro waved the other figure off dismissively. "Fine, fine, we'll get on with it. Not my fault all you old farts can't see the humour."

"Hurry up please," said the woman to Hiro's right. "The back can't take sitting on this damn floor anymore."

"Whenever you're ready, Haruki."

Smoothing the pages of the book down, Haruki raised his arms once more. Across the circle, Hiro mirrored his movements.

The effect was instantaneous – the circle of light flared up brightly, illuminating the faces around its edges, each of them lined and weary. It spread and reached upwards, coming together into a dome and shimmering for a moment before dropping. Flattened, it formed a glowing blue disk in the centre of the room.

Lowering his arms, Haruki spoke. "The time of the Change is approaching. I take it you have all kept your eyes open for successors?"

A series of nods came from the other figures.

"Ultimately, the decision will be yours. No one knows your demon or your territory as well as you do, and thus the remainingJinchuuriki will have no right to intervene. None of you are strangers to responsibility, but please select carefully."

Pulling up the sleeve of his right arm, Haruki extended his hand past the circle's edge and lowered it to the surface of the swirling disc. "I shall begin."

Immediately, colours began to bloom on the blue surface. "Natsumoto Haruki, bearer of the One-Tailed Shukaku, protector of Japan and the circle's beginning. I present Sabaku Gaara, seen successor."

The colours suddenly hardened into focus, revealing an image of a boy in its centre. He was around sixteen years old, with blood red hair. The picture seemed to be current, as if spying on the boy from a distance – he was studying at a desk, reading glasses perched on his nose and a look of concentration on his face.

Then the image was released, and the disc swirled back to blue.

Next to him, another figure extended their hand. "Hafiz, bearer of the Two-Tailed Nekomata and protector of Africa. I present Yugito Nii."

And so it continued as tradition dictated – by order of tail, order of power.

Finally, Hiro held his hand over the glowing disc. Confidence rang in his voice – even if he couldn't take the duties seriously, he was a born leader. "Mishima Hiro, bearer of the Nine-Tailed Kitsune, protector of Japan and the circle's end. I present Uzumaki Naruto."

The boy revealed by the circle was shirtless, blond and sprawled across his orange bedspread. His eyes were fixed – on them ­– on the ceiling, and matched the bright blue of the glowing disc.

Hiro released the image and pushed back his hood to reveal an aged face. A scar ran parallel to his hairline before continuing down his jaw. "Actually," he grinned. "The kid is Gaara's foster brother."

Across the circle, Haruki pushed back his hood as others around the circle copied Hiro's actions. He rolled his eyes at Hiro before speaking. "All of you – if you are certain, the time has come to approach them. They need to be informed and trained. Teach them everything you know – the next time we meet, it will be for the Passing ceremony."

He plucked his charm – similar to a stylised hourglass – from the groove before him, and the circle snapped out of existence. Around him, others began to do the same, before standing (many of them with difficulty) and stretching limbs. Without hesitation, Haruki stepped across the circle and offered a hand to Hiro.

Sending him a grateful smile, Hiro took the offered hand and pulled himself upwards. As Haruki watched, he fastened his own charm around his neck. The swirled leaf settled in the hollow of his collarbone.

Expression widening into a grin, Hiro squeezed Haruki's shoulder. "This'll be fun, don't you think?"

With a small smile, Haruki led the way out of the room.

Across the country, Uzumaki Naruto blinked and then rubbed his eyes. Rolling over he reached for his lamp and switched it off, before giving himself over to dreams.


Continue, Y/Y?

(as much as I love reviews, I generally write to empty out me brain. Thusly I'll probably write more anyway. But, y'know…I really do like reviews. XD)