Bloody Waters
"Speech"
'Thoughts'
Flashback/Past Events
The sun flared down on the land, its powerful rays withering every lesser plant in its way. It was June and the sun shone more fiercely than ever. Gentle winds were blowing from the distant seas, drifting idly through the land, cooling the heavy warmth a bright summer day had left in its wake. The winds evened out the hot weather, doing much to cool down the day and stem the sun's rays from destroying everything.
However, within the canopy's on the tall trees around Konoha, the breeze was not needed, the shade from the mighty behemoths already provided enough shelter for the creatures and plants there. It was relatively calm in the forest, barely anything stirring but in the ominous silence, trouble was brewing.
Farther south, closer to the city limits of Konohagakure death was being dealt.
The blades of nin flashed in and out of existence, only visible when their metallic sheens glinted in the sunlight that filtered in from the leafy canopy of the forest. The sound of footsteps splashing through water revealed that the fight was occurring across the span of a small stream, which was slowly turning red with blood.
The screams of dying men came shortly afterward.
The massive blade of an ex Kiri nin twirled in the air, light glancing off its massive surface, before it came down, cleanly decapitating a masked nin. The two parts of the body fell into the stream, blood mingling with water. The nin turned around, swinging his massive blade before him as he met the next attack head on. His eyes widened.
The jutsu that met his blade blasted him a good ten feet back.
The next blow that landed broke his arm.
The swordsman gritted his teeth in pain and leapt away as his arm fell limply to his bloody side. The blade dropped from his hand and landed in the other as he spun around, slicing down toward the knee of his opponent. Blood squirted through the air as he cut through flesh and bone. He backed up as the nin fell to the ground screaming obscenities. His comrades were alerted and they quickly began closing in, weapons already trained on their target. The nin formed a few seals and concentrated, drawing moisture from his surrounding.
A heavy mist fell over the streambank.
He disappeared from view; hollow laugh echoing through the fog.
The water of the stream was tainted with more blood. The elusive figure of the ex Mist nin glided through the trees, silently picking off his targets, savoring their screams as they came face to face with death. Hunter nin had come after him. Granted, his foolishness had allowed him to be seen by Konoha ninja. But that was irrelevant now; he had no choice but to take them out. Once discovered there was no turning back. It was killed or be killed.
The fact that the Hunter nin that had discovered his presence was not as disconcerting as what they had been doing.
The ninja forces of Konoha were divided into different groups. Each group served its own purpose, whether it be assassination, search and destroy or the tedious job of paperwork. So, if you were to ask which division was the strongest, there would be no correct answer. But an experienced ninja who had seen the horrors of war and the every bloody aspect of a shinobi's life would give you a firm answer.
The most dangerous branch of ninja was the Interrogation Specialist.
Why? They knew every single way to kill a man. Every single way to make you die a slow and painful death. Every way to make you suffer for eternity before your life is snuffed away from you. They were pure sadists. You had to be if you worked with them.
One of the most stunning ways to die is drowning. Imagine yourself slowly sinking into heavy water, your limbs weak as you struggle to take in precious oxygen. You flail your arms in vain as water fills your nostrils, traveling through your body and entering your lungs. Slowly, you choke to death.
This was a popular method among new interrogation members. This was popular among the interns who had yet to see the effect of long-term lack of oxygen and had yet to see how it could drive you crazy. New members often failed in their execution of the drowning technique, subjecting their victims to it too long and as a result, killing them. Even veteran Torture and Interrogation Specialists rarely used this method, preferring more subtle ways to get information to leak.
And so being new recruits to the Torture Unit they needed people to practice on, either simulated or real. These new recruits also happened to be the friends of a few veteran Hunter-nins. Naturally, their comrades found a victim to practice on.
The child was no older than seven with vibrant blonde-hair and deep blue eyes. He was the very picture of liveliness, always smiling and always laughing.
That all changed after the torture.
Fifty-two minutes of continuous drowning. Fifty-two minutes of having your head continually dunked into freezing cold water as liquid filled your nose and your lungs. Fifty-two minutes on a child.
And all the way the combined group of Torture and Interrogation and Hunter-nin had been laughing. The sound of their high pitched cackles and deep rumbling laughter had echoed through the trees each time they witnessed the small child wail for help as his head was dunked deeper and deeper into the water. Their laughs had increased in fervor as they heard the boy cry out for help only to realize that there was no one around to help him.
This was the scene that Momochi Zabuza had inadvertently walked onto to.
The Torture and Interrogation members had been the first to be mutilated. His blade had cut through their soft flesh, tearing through bone and muscle as he cleaved them straight in half. Their deaths had released the hold on the small child, allowing him to scramble dazedly away.
The moments after that were unexpected. The first half of the Hunter-nin hadn't reacted, instead faltering, allowing their guts to be spilled all over the forest floor. The next half of them had leapt away, directly onto the running water of the stream.
The fight from then on had been a slaughter.
Zabuza smiled as he cleaved the last Hunter-nin in half, watching as blood sprayed into the air and onto his skin.
The mist around him had begun to clear away, revealing the carnage that had been left in the wake of the missing-nin's arrival.
Twenty-one dead. Four Torture Specialists. Seventeen Hunter-nin. Zabuza's lip curled in disgust. This was too easy, granted they had been caught by surprise but it was still too easy. The caliber of ninja was sinking.
He shouldered his blade and stumbled through the stream. He barely reached the bank when he felt the pain in his arm shoot up as the adrenaline began to fade away.
The shifting figure of a small child broke the deathly silence like a gunshot.
The swordsman's eyes flickered for a moment but passed over the sound. With a grunt of pain he collapsed to the floor, his massive weapon sliding from crimson, bloody hands. The blade fell into the small stream with a splash and sank to the shallow bottom of the clear liquid. Slowly, the running water engulfed the weapon, washing over its deadly blade, cleansing it of the blood splattered across its surface.
The man backed up, his chest heaving up and down as he struggled to rip the bandages off his mouth with his one good arm. The broken one lay limp at his side, bent at a horrendous angle. The bandages came off his face, revealing the natural dark tone of his skin. He leant back against a large rock, one of many that dotted the streamside. His bloody hand nudged a piece of wood and long fingers curled around it, bringing it toward his mouth.
His jaws opened and the piece of oak was inserted. He bit down on hard, teeth sinking into the woody surface. Gingerly he grasped his broken arm. With a grunt he yanked it forward, the cracking of bones echoing through the silent forest. He bit down harder on the wood, teeth grinding, stifling the massive cry that threatened to come out. There was another loud crunch and he jolted forward, mouth opened in a silent scream of horror.
The blonde-haired boy across from him watched with an apathetic expression. He shifted in his sitting position amid the bloody, mutilated bodies of Hunter-nin, hands clasped together in front of him and lips pursed together in a thin line.
Zabuza slumped back down, gasping for air as he picked the piece of wood back up. He wrapped his arm with bandages, wincing in pain each time he jostled the injured appendage. Using another long piece of wood, he hung his arm on it, creating a make shift splint from the piece of wood and the remnants of his face bandages. Sighing he let his arm hang limp, dropping the rest of the shredded bandages to the dirt. His eyes swiveled to the kid sitting between the dead bodies of the Hunter-nin.
He leant back against the boulder, silently appraising the small child before him. He could be no more than seven, so young, so moldable. No fear was apparent in the boy's eyes. None at all, interesting, he mused. Perhaps it was a side effect of being so young, so naïve. But then again, at this child's age, he had slaughtered his entire class single handedly.
The treetops rustled slightly, the light breeze of the day blowing through the massive branches and wide leaves. Sunlight played across the face of the swordsman as he looked over the blonde-haired child.
His eyes caught the whisker marks scratched into the boy's expressionless face.
Zabuza's teeth clenched in surprise and he nearly smiled, nearly.
A jinchuruuki. The Kyuubi no Kitsune's too. This was a rare gem, a diamond in the rough. Never would he have dreamed to find something such as a jinchuruuki out here of all places. Konoha would regret their decisions.
He stood, legs propelling his body upward. He kept his eyes on the child and slowly he walked toward the stream. The running water was now red with blood. He bent down, reaching a hand into the accumulation of red liquid and grasped the hilt of his massive blade. Leisurely he brought it out of the stream, droplets of water dripping off the dark gray blade. Zabuza's eyes strayed off the small boy for a moment. Dark irises narrowed.
With a flick of his hand Kubikiri Houcho was sent streaming through the air, the deadly blade whistling its death tune, before plunging deep into the soft earth directly between the child's feet.
The boy didn't even flinch and Zabuza's eyes became cold. Trauma.
He approached the boy, crouching in front of his small frame.
"What's your name boy?"
The child's eyes flickered up, locking with Zabuza's.
"Naruto."
Zabuza's hand coiled around the hilt of his massive blade. He leveled his gaze with Naruto's, leaning down farther to see him eye to eye.
"What do you want kid?"
The blonde-haired child just stared at him, expression blank.
"Do you want to get away? Do you want to leave this and never come back?"
He motioned with his hand to the dead bodies and the shoddy state of Naruto's clothes. There was a flicker of hope in the child's eyes, a glimmer of light that Zabuza barely noticed. The swordsman seized the hilt of his blade, yanking it from its place deep in the earth. With a twirl he slid it into the sheath on his back, flexing his shoulders as he adjusted to its familiar weight.
"Do you want to go away forever? Do you want to have a new life?"
The blonde nodded.
"Do you want to be needed?"
Naruto's body was trembling now and he shook his head up and down in fervor.
"Are you willing to give me everything? Are you willing to be my weapon?"
Zabuza reached a hand out, letting it hover before Naruto's face. Nothing was said for a few moments. And then gradually, Naruto reached out and placed his tiny hand onto Zabuza's palm, lacing his fingers around the dark skin. The older man closed his massive hand around Naruto's miniscule one and pulled the child to his feet. He pivoted, turning back toward the stream bank, Naruto's hand still engulfed in his.
He took one step and then two, his hand still clenched around the blonde's. He glanced back at the child and noticed the hesitant look in his eyes. He waited, tugging lightly on the boy's arm.
Naruto took a step toward Zabuza and then another, until the two of them had reached the edge of the bank.
They walked together, Zabuza leading Naruto the whole way as they crossed the stream. They continued walking, the small blonde haired boy hugging the side of the taller imposing man. The kept on, disappearing from view, their figures swallowed up by the dense underbrush.
Behind them the stream swirled in silence, bloody water still lingering.
AN: And it ends here...