A Poem Of Blood And Steel

Chapter One: A New Beginning

The city was at the mercy of the icy winds of winter that blew violently. The streets had been cleared and homes had been boarded up. The whole place looked deserted while snow fell upon it in heavy volume, covering all in white sheets. And all the while, the moon hung in the sky, full faced and shining its milk white light, illuminating the world below through the one gap in the cloudy sky.

At the center of the city was a great castle, the oldest building still standing in the entire city, built long ago of stone and wood. It had survived war, famine, disease, and fire. But just like the rest of the city, the entire castle seemed to be deserted and devoid of life.

Save for a single tower.

At the top of the tower, this one being the southern tower, a single light could be seen flickering. If one were to enter the tower, they would have to ascend up a flight of stairs totaling 129 steps in total. And when they reached the top, they would find a living space befitting a monk. A straw sleeping mat with a single thin blanket, where an elderly man lay.

He looked ancient, his hair was as white as the snow outside, his eyes were clouded over with cataracts, his face lined with wrinkles, and his pale bony fingers swollen with arthritis. The old man was wheezing slightly as he took in slow shallow breaths of air. He was dressed in a much robe that was much too light for the season.

Next to the old man was a small low ground table, and a small candle.

The candle lamp was lit and at the desk sat a much younger man, more of a boy really, having seen perhaps little more than a dozen summers. His auburn hair was tied back in a ponytail and he was draped in a dark blue kimono with the emblem of a golden flower on the back.

The old man let out a horrible cough, attempting to cover his mouth, but it did little to stifle the hacking, and what is worse when he removed his hand he could see small flecks of blood in the spittle that had escaped.

The old man was dying.

Obediently and without being bid to, the boy walked to a small hearth an earthen kettle sat among the faint embers, the boy poured hot water into a hollow wooden cup, mixing herbs and a few spices into it before taking it to the old man.

The boy gently eased the old man up into a sitting position and then held the cup so the old man could take slow gracious sips.

"Sensei, please let me send for a healer." The boy pleaded.

The old man, after swallowing the drink gestured for the boy to lay him down. "There is no need… I am well beyond a healer's skill now."

"But they could provide you with a draught perhaps to help ease…" But was interrupted with a sharp "NO" from the old man.

The boy fell silent immediately as he helped ease the old man back into a laying position. "Forgive me, but no…I need no draught…I need to keep my wits about me." The old man took several deep breaths and gestured to the table. "This parchment…you must…you must write what I tell you...exactly as I say it"

The boy nodded his head and moved back to the table, taking out a small stack parchment. Which he laid out and opened a bamboo reed that was fashioned into a container, it was filled with ink which thankfully had not frozen. He dabbed his brush into the black liquid, ready to write what his sensei said.

The old man was silent for a while, as if gathering his strength together, and when he finally spoke, it was with an air of strength and vitality that surprised even the boy, but he did not allow his surprise to distract him from the duty he had been given.

He started to write as his sensei spoke, the words forming on the parchment read as followed.

'Old. I am so old now. Everyday my bones ache and my hands shake. The same hands that once wielded such power can now barely hold a cup of sake without dropping it.'

The old man paused and took a moment to rub his skeletal like hands trying to chase the cold from them as he stared at the ceiling. Then he began to speak again and the boy wrote.

'But, despite my age, my mind remains as sharp as ever. And with this mind, I remember. For how could anyone who lived through it ever forget, sengoku ōkoku no jidai, the Era of the Five Warring Kingdoms.'

The old man paused once more, closing his eyes and for a moment the boy almost thought the old man had fallen asleep, but then the old man let out a heavy sigh and reopened his eyes and spoke and once again the boy proceeded to write again.

'So many people know the tales that sprung up from that era but none of them know the entire story of what happened. Perhaps it is time that they should. But where does one start? I suppose like with every story it is best to start at the beginning, the very beginning.'

Outside some lone dog howled loudly into the night as the man continued to write.

'Long ago, the world was ruled by demons who terrorized humanity. They were terrible beasts, birthed from the darkness and realm of nightmares, or so it was said. Of all shapes and sizes, they took so many forms that even the words of poets and the images painted by artists could never truly capture their likeness. So powerful were these demons that they cowed the lowly humans whom they feasted upon to satisfy the endless hunger that drove their bodies. The greatest of their kind was Lady Kaguya. Once she herself had been human, a priestess who in attempt to gain the power to destroyed the demons went so far as to have consumed the fruit of the fabled Tree of Ages. It was said that the roots of this tree connected all of the world, that it divinity itself given physical form. And to eat from the fruit of this tree would be to gain the powers of a god. But alas, humans are so easily corrupted and Lady Kaguya, despite her good intentions the moment she tasted the fruit was overwhelmed by the power and became the very evil she had sought to destroy. She was the first to master the then unknown power of Chakra and developed the first jutsu. She became a goddess and was worshiped as such by man and demon alike, but was feared as well.'

The snow storm outside seemed to increase in ferocity at that point, it startled the boy slightly but nonetheless he continue the write.

'And eventually she bore two sons, Ōtsutsuki Hagoromo and Hamura. Upon their birth it was foretold that the two would have power that would surpass even their mother. Out of paranoia, Kaguya cast them both out among the humans and lesser demons, turning her back on her own children in favor of her self-given authority, that she alone should possess the power of jutsu, and that none should ever be her equal or better. The twins grew up, they protected and loved each other as brothers should, but eventually they parted ways. For each man has their own destiny. The younger twin, Hamura would attempt to regain his mother's favor, but the elder, Hagoromo, continued to live among the humans, watching them struggle and suffer, also he watched them love, grow, and adapt. In them, he saw the bonds of family and friendship and the power of courage and love. In them, he saw hope and light for the future. And for this reason, he swore to do all in his power to protect and aid humanity against demons, even against his mother if need be.''

The boy, as he wrote this, could not help but smile, even in a story as old as this, the common themes still persisted. A hero for the common oppressed people.

'The power of Otsutsuki Hagoromo grew and grew just as foretold. At first he used these powers only to heal and protect the weak, never to fight in anger or vengeance, for he feared if did so that he would end up falling down the dark path that had consumed his mother. However, as time passed, he eventually realized that he could not stand idly by while demonic forces terrorized others. And because of this, he used a power unlike any other, the power create life. He drew from within himself and from the power of the very earth itself to craft the nine beasts of legend into existence, creatures born of thought and energy, turned flesh and made real. These nine beasts were charged with being the guardians of humanity, protecting them from the demons who sought to do them harm, to do what Hagoromo could not do as well.'

The boy knew this story, the old man had told it to him so many times. He tried to remember the types of beasts. There was a fox, a monkey, a slug of all things, a turtle, a horse of some kind, a cat, a beetle, a raccoon, and… was the last one an octopus or a bull? He always forgot that one.

The old man let out a small cough, took a deep breath and started his tale again, and the boy continued to write

'As the power and fame of Hagoromo grew, so did the threat he presented to his enemies. Word of his power finally reached the ears of his own mother. When Kaguya learned of what her son had done, she was beside herself with rage. There could be only one god in this world. The lady Kaguya then came to her son and challenged him; Hagoromo did not wish to fight his mother, but she left him no choice. And so began terrible conflict between mother and son. For a while it was just the two of them but soon Hamura joined in. Though the brothers loved each other, Hamura still craved to earn his mother's love, and for it he took up arms against his own brother. it looked as if Hagoromo would lose. But with the strength nine beasts, the guardian of humanity turned the battle back in his favor and vanquished his former family. Hagoromo cast his mother down and imprisoning her forever within the very tree that she gained her power from; letting the roots envelop her and become her prison, which he deemed should never be disturbed. As for Hamura, though it pained him, he knew that elder twin would seek to free their mother, so Hamura was banished from the world and sealed within the Moon. From his celestial prison he would forever be forced to watch the world that the mother, whom he had so desperately sought to love, was imprisoned in. After the battle many demons gathered, eager to scavenge off the remains, but Hagoromo banished them back to their darkness of the earth and sea from which they had spawned from; confining them to the abyss.'

The boy dipped his brush back into the ink and continued to write his sensei's words.

'And these very humans, praised Hagoromo. Though he did not wish it, they fell on their knees and worshiped him and named him Emperor of the Six Paths. From him, the primitive and ancient humans learned. Through his teachings, humans developed architecture, mathematics, philosophy, everything necessary to build a society. And eventually Hagoromo even took a human woman as a wife and she bore him two sons, both of them strong in the same powers their father and grandmother had possessed, the power over chakra, and the power to master jutsu, and he schooled them well in their skills. Truly, after such a long period of darkness and death, this was a time of peace and prosperity.'

The old man became silent at that, and the boy held the brush, waiting for the next set of words to write. Then finally, the old man spoke again.

'But, all good things must come to an end. For eventually Hagoromo, who had spent so much of his power doing so much for the world, could not fight the one force that both human and demons answered to in the end, Death. And when he died his two sons turned on each other like rabid animals, fighting to see which one of them would succeed the legacy of their father. The elder son believed himself the rightful heir, he believed that he should use the power to dominate and control while the younger believed that the power should be used to protect and serve. So they, like Hagoramo and Hamura before, fought each other. But neither of them could overwhelm the other the other nor could they control the nine beasts, who had been held in check only by the power and authority of Hagoromo. But with his death, the nine beasts, free of control became scattered, and like the demons of old, turned on humanity. Before long, the two brothers, after having destroyed nearly all their father had built in their feud, went their separate ways, founding their own clans and spawning sons, teaching those sons the skills their father taught them. And then those sons went away and found their own clans and produced sons... and so the cycle continued and continued, resulting in the teachings of how to wield chakra and develop of jutsu.'

The boy paused and rubbed his hands. He looked at the parchment, so much he had written but there was more to come. For he knew it was important that this tale be told. And the night was still young, he picked the brush back up and continued to write the words the old man relayed.

'The world was thrown back into chaos. The teachings that had been meant to bring humanity together only drove them apart and brought division. The world was torn apart by endless war between the six great nations of the time. Earth, Fire, Water, Lightning, Wind, and Iron. Battling each other in a quest for total domination. So many died needlessly and rivers of blood drenched the soil. The world stood on the verge of the abyss until at last, salvation came.'

There was not a man, woman, or child born today who did not know the next part.

'Two mighty clans from the Land of Fire stood together and called for a stop to the fighting, the leaders of clans Senju and Uchiha. Both of them could trace their lineage back to the sons of Hagoromo, and both were capable of wielding chakra and jutsu's unlike any the world had ever seen. The two clan leaders together even brought the nine beasts, which had for a thousand years been roaming free and terrorizing all, to heel and sealed them away. These men were known as Senju Hashirama and Madara Uchiha.'

'These two men brought all of the great clans of the world together and told them that the time for fighting was over, that it was time for them to stand united. The clans of the great nations therefore stood together and agreed to create a new form of government. The six great nations and many lesser nations agreed and from then on they would be ruled over by the Kages, who would govern the individual lands and the clans that inhabited them. Above the Kages was an Emperor who would rule over all six nations along with a man who would be known as the Shogun, serving as the right hand of the Emperor.'

'The problem was who should be the new Emperor and whose clan would be elevated to the status of Imperial family over the collective known lands? The obvious choice was between Madara and Hashirama. In the end Hashirama was chosen to be the new Emperor of the Six Paths and Madara as Shogun, and while Madara bowed to Hashirama, a resentment of being second-in-command boiled underneath.'

The old man paused his tale and sighed. How could one possibly be chosen without causing some form of anger from the other? It was impossible. Surely they both had known that, but didn't accept the outcome. It seems that for some people, second-best would be good enough for others but never themselves.

'Eventually, though Madara could no longer stand in the shadow of Hashirama, and he challenged his once good friend to a battle for dominance. It had been a great and terrible clash between these two epic warriors; some say they might have destroyed each other. But no, It ended with the death of Madara; but still it demonstrated that the feud that had been born from their ancestors still existed in the blood of their decedents. But for a century the Senju clan ruled and the world entered into a golden age of prosperity. The nine beasts, having been sealed away were divided among the nations so that no 'one' could hold more power then the other. The Senju ruled as Emperors and all the while the Uchiha served as Shoguns, the faithful right hand of the Emperor. But eventually the male line of the Senju clan died out. With the death of Hashirama's grandson the last of the Senju was the Princess Tsunade. Though she was wise and beautiful, the law of the land had been made saying that if the imperial line fails to produce a male heir, the current head of the Imperial line could choose a new clan to succeed as the Imperial Rulers of the realm. So it was left to Tsunade herself to choose the next successor to what was now being called The Chakra Throne. No one can say how many clan Daimyos had come before the Princess Tsunade boasting about their lineage and claiming that they should sit on the throne.'

'Naturally the Uchiha believed that this was their time, that they would finally be chosen to become the new Imperial family. Had they not served long and faithfully to the Senju? Was their blood not the blood of Otsutsuki Indra, the elder son of Hagoromo; just as the Senju were descended of the younger son, Asura. Surely, they whose clan had helped bring the world to order, would be risen to the rank of Imperial Status. But to their shock, they were passed over once more for the title of Emperor. No instead the title was given to the head of a small clan; the Namikaze, sworn vassals of the Senju. The Namikaze were strong, noble, and just that they were praised to the status of Imperial Clan. Princess Tsunade proclaimed them the heir to will of Hagoromo, and then the princess herself vanished. From that point, the Namikaze ruled with fairness and justice and were praised by the lords and common people alike. All the while the Uchiha stood at the side as the faithful Shoguns to the new Emperor. Eventually the title was passed down to the only son of the clan to remain alive. He was a good man, filled with wit and learning, but he was also strong, on the battlefield no man could match him. His name was Minato and he had it within him to be the greatest Emperor since Hagoromo himself. He had even taken a wife; a woman from whose clan were distant cousins of the Senju and therefore of the blood of Hagoromo. But the reign of Minato eventually came crashing down when he was betrayed. He and his family were murdered and the Chakra Throne usurped. And thus began a reign of tyranny and fear that many believe would never end. For who had the strength to challenge a clan so powerful?'

The old man paused once again and licked his dry lips, thinking long and hard for moment before he started to speak again; going slowly so the boy could take down every word and detail.

'But, the future is never certain. The next part of the tale takes place in the West where…'

For hundreds of years, before the time of the Unification, clan Hokori had ruled the Land of Wind. Theirs was an ancient bloodline, one they boasted that could be traced back to the nobility of the ancient kingdom of Rōran. And from their station, the leader of the clan commanded a number of titles. The first was Kazekage, the liege-lord of the vassal clans, all of whom had sworn their loyalty and swords to the Hokori, just as the Hokori were made to swear to the Imperial clan. The second title was Warlord of the Southwest, charged with defending the southwestern edges of the realm against the forces that lay outside the boarders. The third and final title was Lord of Sunagakure, the capital city of the Land of Wind.

Sunagakure lies in a fortified desert valley behind sheer cliffs of rock, with the only passage in and out of the village restricted to a single cleft between two cliff faces, making the area very hard to attack from the ground.

And it was Sunagakure that been selected to host the Great Tournament, a yearly event instituted by the Imperial clan thirteen years ago. In which nobles and honored men could show of their skills in swordsmanship, archery, horsemanship, and martial arts. The winner of the tournament was lavished with great prizes and styled with the title Champion of the Realm. Though, often times, due to the numbers of the members of the Imperial clan who entered the tournament each year, it was very rare that one of their own was not named winner.

Still, that did not stop Sunagakure from making preparations for the tournament.

Outside the gates, a small city of tents had been set up. A rainbow of fabrics could be seen with the banners of each clan fluttering in the breeze. From all over the realm, clans great and small had come to attend. Men sat together, sipping warm sake or tea and discussing past tournaments and business of the realm. While the women gossiped and giggled as they swapped stories of their journeys to the Land of Wind. Small children ran around, laughing and squealing with excitement as they could not wait to see the tournament and daydreamed of the days in which they too would one day participate.

Meanwhile, inside the actual city it was a scene of excited chaos. Ropes had been tied to buildings on either side of the streets, all of them lined with the crest of the imperial clan and that of clan Hokori. The streets were spilling over with so many people, many of them pushing and shoving to get to their destination, while others made room for those riding on horseback or being carried on a palanquin. The edges of the the streets filled with vendors selling their wares. The girls of the pleasure dens had painted up their faces, dressed in their finest clothes and calling out to the crowds of visitors who arrived. The furnaces of blacksmiths were burning night and day, working to fill orders of men who entered the lists, demanding that their weapons be polished, sharpened, and ready to be hammered at.

At one particular forge, a young man, who had seen no more than 18 years was hammering the steel of a katana, the sound ringing around the room. To some it was noisy clanging, but to him it was the sweetest sound in the world.

The young man had been apprentice to the Smith of the Golden Forge for the past five years, his guardian arranging it in order to keep him busy and to, in the older man's words, 'keep your damn head out of the clouds'

Of course the Golden Forge was a misnomer if there ever was one. It was a small, dirty place, with everything in a constant state of disarray. Not one ingot had ever been hammered or introduced to the forge here. In fact, the only gold that was ever entered here was from the coin used to pay for their services, and that was not often. But this month had been different, with so many of the finer forges and blacksmiths overwhelmed with orders, smaller ones, including the Golden Forge had received a huge amount of work.

For days now the young man had worked tirelessly, working the forge until his face and hair were black with soot and he reeked of sweat and smoke. It was hard work, but it was good and honest work. He liked this work.

The young man took a ladle of water and gently poured it over the metal, listening to the hiss and watching the steam that rose from it. He then lifted it up and stared at the cooling metal. Nodding with a smile at satisfaction.

However, his moment of satisfying tranquility was broken by the sound of the door being slid open.

The young man turned to see a much younger man, a boy really, standing there panting heavily. The boy was only 12, his skin a light brown, the color of the earth while his hair as black as the night sky and his eyes were the color of amber.

"Tora-san, what are you doing here? I don't have time to spare now, I have to-" The young man started to say but was interrupted.

"YOU HAVE TO COME QUICK! THEY ARE GOING TO KILL HIM!" Tora yelled.

"What? Kill who? What is going on?" The young man said as he set his hammer and the now cooled metal down. Fights, brawls, and murder were not uncommon in the city. There was always something, women, coin, some slight either real or imagined.

"The young lord, they've got him surrounded and they said they would hurt him." Tora said.

"Where?" The young man demanded, immediately straightening his posture.

"At the fountain, you need to hurry please."

The young man nodded and proceeded to follow Tora when suddenly the master of the forge, an older man, wide in girth, and bald save for a thick grey mustache that gave him the appearance of an old walrus entered and shouted "Hey! Where are you going? We have work to do!"

"Sorry Omi-sama, I need to go save my brother" The young man shouted back over his shoulder as he raced through the streets after Tora.

The great fountain of Sunagakure was a marvel to behold. It was carved of white marble with a statue of Hokori Sato, the first Kazekage in the center, streams of water poured from the holes at the base of the statue and pooled in the large circular pool below.

The poor of the city came to this fountain everyday to gather water to take home, to do their laundry, or to clean themselves. They savored the cool crystal blue water, which to the inhabitants of a desert was like a gift from the gods, or rather from the Hokori.

And at one side of the fountain three men, all of them in their 20s and wearing the crest of clan Yotsuki, a clan from the Land of Lightning, well known for defending their comrades and taking even the smallest of slights deeply. Two of them were holding the head of another under the water, laughing as the one submerged struggled and splashed.

The apparent leader of the three, a broad shouldered man with black hair, waved his hand and his two cohorts brought the man up.

This man, was much younger then his tormentors, still in his late teens. He coughed and sputtered as water dripped from his face and hair.

One of the Yotsuki men snickered. "What's wrong sand rat? Too much water?"

"P…please…" The youth started to say before he coughed some more.

"P…Please?" The Yotsuki men mocked and laughed. "Hahaha he is more like a simpering woman then a noble."

The leader of the trio withdrew a kunai. "Aye, and maybe we should make sure he looks the part down there." He said with a smirk and brought the blade close to the youth's privates as if ready make good on his threat.

Then suddenly out of nowhere, a cloud of dirt zoomed through the air and caught the Yotsuki leader in the back of the head, stunning him for a moment he then turned around and snarled in anger. "Who the hell thr-?!"

That's as far as he got, because a powerful punch to the face sent him back and into the water of the fountain. The young man stood there, tall and fierce, his hand curled into a fist. Tora had brought him here and then had rushed off to more help if needed.

The two remaining Yotsuki let go of the drenched teen and glared at the attacker. "Who are you?" One of them demanded.

The apprentice blacksmith glared and kept a stance. "Me? I'm just a guy who thinks it's unfair for three to be fighting one. So I'm here to even the odds."

"Do you have any idea who we are brat?" The Yotsuki demanded.

"Yeah, a bunch of bullies from some place far away. That's all the information I need to know that I don't like you." The young man said as he cracked his knuckles.

The leader of the Yotsuki, sitting up from the water, his fine silk ruined, snarled. "Kill that peasant!"

The two men, forgetting about the drenched youth for a moment, rushed forward to seize the apprentice blacksmith. But he was quick, he avoided their grasp, dropped down and swept his leg under their feet, knocking them to the ground. And then he turned his attention back to their leader who was attempting to get out of the fountain, the young man run forward and jumped right in, knocking the broad-shouldered Yotsuki back into the water and held the man's head under for a moment before bringing it back up. "Now, I'd get out of here if I were you." The young man said as he hauled the Yotsuki man up, turned him and gave a powerful shove knocking over the edge of the fountain and onto the ground, covering him in dirt.

The other two Yotsuki helped their comrade up, all three of them glaring at the young man. They looked ready to attack again when the boy Tora appeared with a group of other citizens, all of them glaring at the Yotsuki and they seemed ready to help give the arrogant clansmen a beating if need be.

Realizing they were outnumbered the leader of the trio growled like an angry dog and glared at the one he deemed the cause of "This isn't over peasant brat. We never forget an offense and we never forgive." The broad-shouldered one yelled as the three of them hurried off, their faces burning with humiliation as those who had been watching laughed and cheered at the young man.

The young man smiled, running a hand through his now wet hair, revealing it to be blonde now that the smoke had been washed from it. He waded over to the edge and got out. He then walked over to the youth who was still sitting on the ground and looking up at his rescuer.

"That was not necessary." The youth said as he shook the remaining water from his red hair.

"Oh no, of course it wasn't. You clearly were doing fine on your own." The blonde young man said as he offered the red-haired youth his hand who accepted it gratefully.

"Those men were nobles. You could get into huge trouble for this."

The blonde shrugged. "If I do, at least I had a good reason."

"Coming to save your foster brother?"

"No that was a bonus…the real reason was I needed a bath. Women seem to avoid me when I smell too much like a forge."

The youth gave a small smile and shook his head. "On that, Naruo-niisan…we agree."

Naruto grinned put his arm around his foster brother Hokori Gaara, the youngest son of Hokori Rasa, Lord of Sunagakure, Kazekage of the Land of Wind. The two looked nothing like brothers, but they were that in all but blood. Though Gaara's actual blood siblings didn't share the sentiment with Naruto.

After all, Naruto was an ill-born, the very idea that a noble would consider him a friend, let alone a brother was hard to believe. Especially for Gaara's blood brother Hokori Kankuro, who took this as a personal insult to himself.

"I hear my Lord Father has been asked to attend to some issue that's somehow connected to Konoha." Gaara mentioned as the two of them walked through one of the less busy streets; the red-haired boy trying to dry himself off and still appear lordly at the same time, but failing to do the latter.

"You know I don't care about politics Gaara. Why bring this up?" Naruto semi-complained.

"Well, your father is from Konoha, isn't he?" Gaara offered.

"Pff, that old man could be from the moon for all I care and for all it matters." Naruto said apathetically. "Besides, we have enough going on here to worry about to bother worrying about what is going on half a world away."

"Like what?"

"Well for starters, all of the pretty young foreign women who have come for the tournament." Naruto said with a wide grin.

"Yes, well I think they are already taken by all of shinobi's and nobles who are competing in the tournament." Gaara, ever sensible, said in a matter of fact voice.

"Which is why I should enter and get us some of them" Naruto sad as he put his hands behind his head and looked up at the sky.

Gaara gazed at his foster brother; trying to figure out of the boy was being serious or joking. "Nauro-niisan you know you cannot enter the tournament."

"Why not? Why can't I participate in the tournament? Huh?"

"Because it's the law, only those who are anointed shinobi or nobles can compete and well you are a…ummm." Gaara became nervous and shy hating to say such a thing.

But he did not have to, Naruto finished for him. "I know, I'm an Ill-born. Still…" Naruto sighed, when he had been a boy he had dreamed of being a shinobi, competing in the tournaments and having the crowds cheering his name. But as he got older he realized that because of his station in society that dream was unlikely to take form. "I suppose you won't be taking part either?"

Gaara hung his head "My lord father forbade it, he did not want me to shame myself or the clan."

Naruto rolled his eyes "Please, you would do fine in the tournament. You've gotten very good during practice with me and and the old man."

Gaara smiled a bit at that. "Speaking of your father, what do you imagine he will do when he hears about this?"

"Probably give me a few knocks on the head. But I can worry about that later. Now, I should be getting back to the forge. But…" He turned his head and saw an uncrowded ramen stall. "How about so lunch?"

Gaara nodded, his own stomach rumbling. "I think that sounds perfect."

"Great, I'll buy and you pay." Naruto said with a laugh.

The two of them took a seat at at the stall. The vendor, though rushed, greeted his guests before both them made an order of food. Gaara requested some dumplings while Naruto went for the beef ramen. The vendor nodded and placed a bottle of sake in front of them while he fetched their order.

Gaara gently sipped his share while Naruto took a quick gulp of it and shuddered slightly.

"Naruto-niisan, if you wanted I could speak to my Lord Father and see if he would agree to sit with us in our family's pavilion during the tournament. It is close so you will be able to the entire tournament." Gaara offered, hoping it would make his foster-brother feel better and also because he did not relish sitting with his family alone.

It was not that Gaara disliked his family, his elder sister had treated him fairly and his uncle had always shown him kindness. But Gaara's father and elder brother, he always balked under the look of their gazes, filled with loathing and disappointment.

"Yes, I am sure the Lord Kazekage would love to have a lowly Ill-born like me share his pavilion." The blonde grumbled, "No I will either be working in the forge or training with the old man."

"Your father isn't going to watch or even compete?" Gaara said in mild shock.

"No, he doesn't compete in tournaments and he won't watch because he thinks that-" Naruto dropped his voice and made a mocking grumble sound as he spoke. "'That fighting should only be done in real combat or preparing for one. Not in front of a cheering or booing crowd while dressed in fancy airs and for pointless trinkets or honors'."

Naruto rolled his eyes and poured himself more sake. "He doesn't understand…" He stated, his eyes betraying the deep sadness within him.

Gaara looked over at Naruto and gently placed his hand on Naruto's shoulder.

The blonde looked over at the red head and gave a small smile, and Gaara in turn smiled back, the two of them started to laugh.

By the time their food came, the two of them were happily conversing with each other. But, in his mind Naruto still thought of the tournament.

In the palace, located in the center of the city of Suna a meeting was taking place.

Hokori Rasa, Kazekage of the Land of Wind and Lord of Sun did not give the appearance of a warrior. He was not an overly tall man, standing around 5 and a half feet tall and carrying weight of a man who ate and drank little; in many ways he looked more like a monk.

But despite his thin frame, Rasa was fierce fighter, who had earned a reputation for his pragmatic and stoic personality.

His hair auburn and his dark eyes as per usual were narrowed slightly, depicting him with a very stern look on his face. Many people often whispered that Rasa and his youngest son Gaara were near mirror images of each other, but they made sure to make sure they were out of earshot when saying this.

At the moment, Rasa was in his audience hall, sitting on a cushion of a raised dais, his legs folded underneath him. On his left and right where two shinobi swordsmen, their swords sheathed and their faces emotionless; ready to strike the moment their Lord gave the order.

Rasa was dressed in his usual finery, a high grade green and white silk kimono, his eyes directed to the man on his knees before him.

"I received a messenger from the Yotsuki clan earlier. They told me of how a certain peasant boy, one fitting the description of your Byōki, assaulted three of their men."

Byoki, a term used to describe an ill-born, a bastard, for the word literally meant 'disease', deemed appropriate by the so-called 'better people' because such children were spawned due to by-blows between an unmarried man and woman, and because of this they were viewed as a plague upon society.

"I had thought I had made it clear you were to curb his behavior and teach him his place, Jiraiya."

Once considered one of the mightiest shinobi's and wisest men of the realm, Jiraiya carried himself as an old man. He was a tall man with a thick waist. His long spiky white hair was tied back into a pony tail, with two shoulder-length bangs that framed both sides of his face. He was dressed in a red and green kimono with the image of a squatting toad on the back, his personal emblem.

Jiraiya kept his face to the ground. "I beg forgiveness for the stupidity of my shameful son. Rest assured Hokori-dono, I have already sought out the Yotsuki and offered them payment as restitution."

"That is well and expected. Because I need not have to remind you Jiraiya that we cannot have any incidents during such a time as this."

Jiraiya remained silent indicating he understood and Rasa waved his hand, giving the Toad Sage his permission to sit up, which the old man did.

"Though, my lord, if I may be so bold to say, Naruto only challenged his betters to come to the defense of your son, who was being tormented by the men. Would you have preferred he had done nothing?"

A brief look of annoyance passed through Rasa's face. "I am aware of that as well. My youngest always finds new ways to shame me and my clan with his weakness. I had thought sending him to be fostered as your ward would make him stronger."

Jiraiya said nothing but he remembered that day as clear as if it had been yesterday.

(Flashback)

Rasa was seated behind a screen, so that only his outline could be seen; that was how he preferred to give meetings to those he deemed to be less important then himself. A symbolic way of saying one was within his shadow.

On the floor below his dais was Jiraiya. Though Rasa would not admit it aloud, he took great satisfaction to see such a great satisfaction to see one of the mightiest shinobi in the realm kneeling before him.

"Well, say what you will Jiraiya, I was kind enough to grant you some of my time but I have other matters to attend to." The Lord of Suna said very suddenly. Most people would have used the 'sama' suffix here as a term of respect if nothing else for the sage, but Rasa chose not to. Another way to sort of assert himself and prevent his visitor from expecting too much.

Jiraiya bowed his head. "Hokori-dono, I ask permission to enter your service. I would pledge you my loyalty and skill if you would be gracious enough to allow myself and my Byoki a place in your household."

Rasa was silent, the chance to add someone of Jiraiya's status and ability into his ranks was quite the tempting offer, but still he imagined he could get more out of it.

"And why should I take you in? You're getting old, Jiraiya, and you must have a reason to come here instead of somewhere else. I doubt you have the same prowess or connections you once did in your youth. For what reason should I accept you into my service?"

Jiraiya bowed lower, attempting to humble himself before Rasa. "I would offer you all I that I can. If you need proof simply name it and it shall be done."

Rasa smiled, knowing exactly what to do now. "You say you have a child accompanying you, an ill-born? How old is he?"

"He is five summers, his mother was… one of my past paramours. She died and as you said I am an old man without any true-born sons so I took him in." Jiraiya claimed, still bowing low.

"Hmmm, I have a second, the youngest of my brood, he is the same age as your ill-born. But he is a weakling, born premature and small, no better than a dwarf except in height. My beloved wife died so that he might be brought into this world, giving her last breath in exchange for his first. At least she never had to see the simpering shameful whelp he has become. If you took him on as a ward, trained him, and perhaps made him a man worthy of the Hokori clan, then I would be inclined to allow you and your Ill-born leave to remain in my city and under my protection."

"I would be honored to take on a son of the Hokori clan as a ward and student."

'It its not meant to be an honor.' Rasa thought, a deep frown on his face that was hidden from behind the screen. "Then rise, Jiraiya as a vassal of my household. But only if you can convince me not drowning my second was not a mistake."

(End of Flashback)

And that was how Jiraiya had gained yet another child under his care. When he had first seen Gaara the boy was a pitiable sight. He was small for his age with a sad and lonely expression on his face that had near broke the old Sage's heart. The child had been alone in a room filled with toys but no one, save a male nurse-maid, Yashamaru, the brother of Rasa's deceased wife, ever setting foot in it besides himself.

Jiraiya had been worried as to how Naruto would respond to Gaara.

Well, Naruto had taken one look at the sad boy clutching a cloth doll in the shape of a bear, grinned, and offered Gaara his hand and invited him to play a game. Gaara had almost seem afraid to take the hand, but the moment he had the two of them had become inseparable.

Jiraiya had taken both Naruto and Gaara into a small home that Rasa had provided for their use, far away from the center of the city and the Hokori castle. Jiraiya of course took as a sign that Rasa wanted his youngest son out of both sight and mind.

The years had been hard at points, but good. Gaara seemed to prosper under the tutelage of Jiraiya. He was not nearly as good as Naruto when it came to practicing martial skills, nor was he terrible, he was adequate but still showed promise. However, Gaara excelled in other areas, his skills in penmanship and poetry were excellent. Not to mention Gaara had a great talent for strategy and thinking, after a few short lessons Gaara had mastered the game of Go.

And yet, Rasa still could barely tolerate the presence of a son whose only wish was to please a father who deemed any progress the boy made as beneath any praise. It was as if Rasa felt insulted that Gaara had to make any progress in the first place and should have just been born perfect.

Jiraiya could not stand the way the Kazekage regarded his flesh and blood, it reminded him too much of some other people he had known in his life before Sunagakure. But dwelling on negative thoughts was not his style, so he inwardly sighed and brought his mind back to focus at the topic at hand.

"When is the Imperial Family scheduled to arrive?"

"Tomorrow, so everything must be perfect for their arrival. I intend for this year's tournament to be the most memorable in the history of the realm."

'Yes, but would it be a good or a bad memory?' Jiraiya wondered.

For the old man worried, he worried what would happen, when the Uchiha arrived.