Letters to Moirae
A Yondaime Tale
by midnightdragoness
Tsuki-Yoma engraved their path through the woods, extending his pale will toward the gateway. He has already seen the fate written for this party. And little pieces of his shallow, pale heart mourn because though he is old he still remembers sorrow. That feeling of having your soul wrenched out by the sheer unfairness of it all. His orb watched the small party of two men—one tall and dark, the other short and bumbling—and a child. And it is such small, insignificant things that will start the ripples he sees. Just three rocks that drop in a pool and create the rippling that forms a tidal wave. Especially her.
The rain coated her face to mingle in rivulets with the blood rather than wash it from her colorless face.
Lord Daichi found his frown deepening as he perceived the girl, flecks of crimson still contrasting vividly on her fair cheek. His gray eyes narrowed while the shorter figure behind him aroused at the sight.
"M' lord, the child... she just—"
"I know, Goro." The dark man addressed his servant, ignoring the downpour in favor of their smallest companion.
She was twirling in the tears of the sky, and the life of the unfortunate rodent she managed to find was still coating her fingers and splattering up her left side. A sadistic smile rocked itself on her burgundy lips.
"It's unnatural! W-what is she? A youkai of some nature?" The balding manservant stuttered with dilated eyes.
"Get a hold of yourself, Goro." His white faced master commanded with an unaffected tone and gaze still resting on the child.
The monotone command brought the lesser creature from his fear as he bowed, allowing the water to fall from his soaked pallet. A pen stroke swept across the book of Izanami and then the moment fell, already taken in by Tsuki-Yoma.
"Goro," The lord spoke again in his heightened monotone.
"Yes M' lord?" He replied eagerly.
The taller figure had not yet looked back to him. "Collect a caravan and await me at the gates. I shall be out within the hour."
The servant bowed. "As you wish, M' lord."
His bowed feet slushed in the saturated earth as he made his way toward the wooden gates. When the short form was finally lost in the sheet of downpour, the lone man now turned back to his destination.
"Child, come."
The girl blinked her silver eyes, obedient to his cold tone and was soon at his feet, smiling in cruel satisfaction as they neared the gateway. The silence was thunderous and foreshadowing.
A shadow flickered in the corner of his eyes and a masked person in the stark black and white uniform barred their path.
"State who you are and what business you have with the Village Hidden in the Leaves." The flat tone demanded behind anonymity.
Unwavering, the taller man removed his large traveling clock from his head; revealing the face resemblant of a skeleton with its gaunt pull and bleach of color.
Immediately, the ninja re-sheathed his katana and pulled from a warning stance to an alert one. He bowed.
"Forgive me, Lord Daichi. We were not expecting you here."
The black-haired man waved his hand in a disinterested gesture. "It is pardoned. I request shelter from the rain for me and the child, and a meeting with the Sandaime."
He felt the ANBU's eyes scan over the smaller, smiling girl at his side. The blood had not yet washed completely off her hands.
"Of course, Lord Daichi. Follow me inside." The shinobi agreed after a pause.
Sarutobi fought the urge to rub his temples. The shinobi that had just visited him bore ill news.
Our feudal lord was stopped at our gates in the rain.
Really, if Konoha had any missions after this it would be a miracle.
"Hokage-sama," A young kunoichi entered.
Sitting himself up, the Third pushed weariness away and smiled slightly under his ceremonial hat.
"Lord Daichi is ready."
"Send him in," The famous ninja replied calmly, masking his apprehension with practiced ease.
The kunoichi nodded, and disappeared for a moment. When she re-appeared, two figures were trailing after her.
Now dried, the Fire Country's Feudal Lord stood regally with his thin, tall frame swathed in a black silk cloak that emphasized the fairness of his skin and hollowness of his features. Gray eyes fixated on him as the woman left.
"Sandaime," His dark hair was cropped and unmoving as he gave a nod of respect.
"Lord Daichi," Sarutobi nodded in response, gesturing to three chairs. "Would you like to sit?"
Nodding curtly, the nobleman slid regally into a chair. In the movement, the leader of Konoha finally saw the smaller body that had been previously hidden by the dark folds of his cloak.
The girl was young, just before her teenage years. Her skin was marble—sharp, beautiful, and white. Yet blossoming crimson hair fell across it and gave an ethereal appearance with the wicked silver eyes. Still, the Professor could not help but feel a bit of his heart go out to her. She was a child, after all.
"What is your name?" The Third asked with a kind smile.
She grin was strange. It excreted evil and devilishness not seen in an underling. "Izanami, Izanami!"
The Hokage almost recoiled, taken aback.
Does she know what she is saying?
Yet the intelligence gleamed from her eyes told him yes, she knew fully what she named herself. Instead, Sarutobi buried his shock and once again focused on his feudal lord. The other man was staring intently at the girl.
"Lord Daichi, you honor us with your presence." The leaf ninja began as the messenger brought a tray of tea of sweets to them. "However, we could have easily arranged for your safe passage if we had known of your coming."
The noble shook his head, his thin lips sipping from the green tea. "No, this was an unexpected visit. The rain was merely an inconvenience."
He nodded, processing mental notes while touching his lips to the warm liquid in his cup. "Then what do we owe the honor of your presence?"
The powerful man looked up from his drink, intense stare fixating on the Professor of Konoha. Every lean muscle was taut, an aura of seriousness spilling over the simple pleasantries to make him halt with the cup half-way to his mouth.
"I need a favor from Konoha. This village was especially chosen for this task."
Sarutobi listened intently, unconsciously leaning forward and stroking his dark beard.
Daichi took one long dreg of air before continuing. He could not hesitate. Not now, after he had come all this way and severed the broken chords of his heart. He needed to do this, for the welfare of everyone.
"I need you to accept this child. She will serve to good ends as a ninja."
The simpleness of his request put the Third on edge. He leaned back, folding his hands in thought as he spared the girl a look. She was dancing around the room now, picking and poking at different things with a morbid curiosity.
"What is wrong with her?" Sarutobi asked as they both observed the strange youth.
The lord's face darkened and his tight skin stretched to the point of breakage. "She is wild. Her humanity is buried, but I hope not diminished."
The nobleman's face turned toward him again. "Let her stay, teach her morales, and make her your tool."
"With all due respect, Lord Daichi," The Hokage replied firmly, seeing something beyond his words. He was a shinobi, after all. One of the best. "I cannot allow the girl to enter until I know what is wrong with her. There is no cure for the unknown"
The foreigner stared, debating with himself for a moment. He was a creature of shadow, and resented the light of truth.
"The child is born of humans, but touched with something beyond this world. It has broken her mortal chains. Her power is strange, but she need only be given the will to control it. If she does not find shelter here than kick her out to die and suffer. I say no more about it."
Reluctantly, Sarutobi nodded. More or less because he was too kind-hearted to abandon a youngster, even one as wretched as her. "We can take her. Konoha can pay for another life."
To his surprise, the feudal prince shook his head. "I can send a yearly payment to cover for her necessities and more. All I request is that she is tolerated and trained here."
The Sandaime held back a blink of surprise and instead gave a dignified bow, sensing his guest's restlessness. "Thank you Lord Daichi. I will assure that the girl is cared for."
Standing up and giving his own bow, the aristocrat swept up his dark cloak, standing more rigid than before; as if relieved of some burden. "My gratitude to you and Konoha, Sandaime. But I must be off. My caravan leaves shortly."
Sarutobi nodded politely as his feudal lord exited through the doors. Once he was out of sensing range, the man turned back to his new acquisition. She hardly seemed perturbed at the abandonment. In fact, that same grotesque smile was bridging her face.
As the head of the village got closer, dread began to fill his stomach.
A trail of blood ran across her arm and a few sprays stained her clothes. The source of it was the squashed little item in her small fist, bleeding like a popped balloon.
It was a bird.
And for a moment, he wondered if her name really was Izanami. Because the way her skin was colorless and her eyes were silver and her features were sharply cut and angled, yet beautiful. And her hair was the color of...
Blood.
--------------------
"No fucking way."
"Jiraiya, watch your tongue!"
"Sensei, I don't care what you do! I am not taking in that... thing!"
The sun shown brightly down on the ninja village, squirming out summer happiness in the deep cerulean sky and yellowed day. A white-haired shinobi and his old teacher were sitting under a large tree that had endured years of poor target practice. It was supposed to be a friendly reunion under the good weather. Just a get-together of the old team, the man had said.
So what does their sensei do? Traps him, the damn weasel.
He shows up on time at the designated place and what does he see? No busty blond, no snake-like rival. Just one overly-cunning Hokage with a proposition for him.
"Sarutobi-sensei, you barely convinced me to take the two highest students of the class. I'll train those brats, fine. But she..." The frog sanin pushed a hand through his bush of hair as his bright brown eyes trailed over to the person in question.
Little red, as the Hokage had begun to think of her, was calmly pattering away with a handful of rocks. To the misfortune of the sparrows, she had deadly aim. Already, three had been taken down.
"... She is a predator! Give her to Orochimaru! They are a pair of sadistic bastards."
"Orochimaru has already taken a student." The Third reminded his former student with a slight wince at the diction.
"So have I! Two of them!" The young man used his hands to emphasis the words with two fingers nearly shoved into the older man's face.
"But she needs you, Jiraiya." Sarutobi tried a different tactic. "If you can't humanize her, no one will be able to."
The red-streaked face did not concede. "Well then I guess she's just fucked over for life because I am not training her."
The brunette sighed. He really had been hoping to avoid going there, but sometimes that boy's stubbornness would force him into ...awkward passages. Letting out a little sigh, the monkey ninja stuck a hand into his robes. When they appeared again, he had procured three paperback books with brilliant orange covers and large red X's.
It had been a long time since he had seen the pervert blush like that, trying pathetically to look innocent. Sarutobi shook his head. Really, how did he become a sanin again?
"What do those have to do with anything?" The womanizer asked slowly, eying the text.
His former teacher gave him a pointed glare. "These, which I am sure you know nothing about, are a collection of very dirty, very bad books. It has just been brought to my attention that these are in high-distribution in Konoha, and as Hokage I cannot allow something so risque to be produced here. It would look quite bad for our public image. So, tonight I am ordering all such books to be burnt and will mark them on the forbidden index of—"
Jiraiya had stopped rubbing the back of his neck and his charming smile had dropped into a scandalized expression that was a great deal amusing.
"Sarutobi-sensei, you manipulative old... Argh, damn you!"
"Oh?" The Sandaime replied with his own false look of dignified grace, watching his student from behind half-lidded eyes with humor.
The frog summoner pouted like a child and crossed his hands, looking away towards the west. "Fine I'll take the damn brat!"
The elder beamed, bowing politely and putting the three novels away. "Well thank you Jiraiya. It has been so nice talking to you again."
As the Hokage stood, brushing off his ceremonial robes, the perverted shinobi blinked, startled to realize something.
"Hey wait! If you had my Icha Icha books, it means..." The fair-haired man put them together and shot the now red Professor a devious grin.
"You're just as bad as me, Sarutobi-sensei!"
Scoffing but still flushed, the head turned away. "Don't be silly. It was only business."
But Jiraiya's laugh followed him back home, and he couldn't help but smile.
I hope I am right in giving him the girl. But if there is anyone who knows about heart, it would be him.
Blue eyes greeted the sun the next day, deep and captivating in the early morning light. Exhaling lightly, he pushed the blankets from his sleeping form, revealing an unruly shock of golden hair that momentarily covered the orbs. He ran a hand through his scalp, stumbling towards the small bathroom to splash water into his warm toned face. Fully awake now, he stood and looked into the dusty mirror. A smile graced his features as excitement and apprehension twisted in his gut.
Arashi glanced at his wall clock. He still had time, but he really didn't want to take any chances.
Training under The Frog Sanin begins today.
The boy replayed the thought in his mind as he pulled on black pants with an orange and white shirt.
I wonder who got assigned to the same team.
The blond knew that his Academy peers had to wait another year to be assigned to their gennin teams. However, due to the last war which sufficiently drained their resources and manpower; the Hokage had ordered all the upper-classmen at the Academy to take the graduation test to see if any were ready to move on.
As far as he heard, three students had been chosen. He had been one of them.
Will it be the three of us with Jiraiya-sama?
The boy was ecstatic to be under a legend like the sanin. He had heard of their Hokage's great team—The best medical nin, the most talented jutsu user, and... what did people say about his new teacher again?
The one with the dumbest good luck.
Arashi cracked another grin and let out a chuckle at the thought.
It doesn't matter. I'm sure he's good.
Blue eyes veered to his clock again and though he had enough time to eat, the orphan was quite sure that he wouldn't be able to stomach anything at the moment. Not even his favorite food, ramen noodles.
Collecting his kunai and shuriken bags, the young gennin left his small apartment, tucking the key back in his pocket. Quietly, he walked down the street. The civilians of the town were just arousing, preparing for the day.
The sun was biting at the sky, asking to be displayed for happiness in its rosy hues. Women scurried around, hanging out laundry and cooking breakfast for their children. The men read the news on the table, or gathered their tools for the day as kids slept a little longer.
Looking through his town, the shinobi couldn't help but feel love and pride for his little village. Then again, maybe it was just the joy of his new team today overrunning to some other feeling.
He passed the new ramen stand, blazing its banner for the opening. Mentally, he counted up his money.
Maybe after today's training I'll eat there...
"Hey!" A familiar, feminine voice called after his retreating footsteps.
Surprised, Arashi turned around to see a familiar face with rich brown hair bound up and dark, warm eyes.
"Koharu-sama," He greeted the woman with a smile.
The middle-aged kunoichi smiled at the boy.
"I haven't seen you around kid. Where are you off to now?"
Modestly, Arashi told her.
Koharu smiled. She had always seen great potential in that little blond ragamuffin. His quiet determination and gentle force was incredibly endearing.
You deserve this Arashi.
"Well then how about after today's training I treat you to the new ramen shop?"
The blond looked up, surprised but smiling gratefully. "You don't have to Ko—"
"Of course I don't, but I want to." The older ninja replied easily.
He gave her a bow. "Thank you very much Koharu-sama."
She waved and turned to walk off again, calling over her shoulder.
"Don't forget, Uzumaki!"
He stood before his father's grave or the first time since entering the Academy. The pain had been too raw, too new before. Or perhaps he had been too young.
He shook his head, causing the cage of silver hair to move with it. A faint smile played out on his lips.
"It's been awhile, hasn't it? I'm sorry for not coming to visit sooner, but... well I graduated from the Ninja Academy."
The wind howled a lonely dirge, trying to keep the boy company between the unforgiving blocks of stone. There were no tears. Perhaps there never was from those eyes the color of twilight. The gennin cleared his throat.
"I managed to finish a year early, demand from the war. A lot of people died... I'm sure you know."
If I was watching myself I'd probably think I was crazy, or doped.
A bitter smirk turned his soft smile cold. "I think you'd be proud of me right now... I have tried to be sure of that. And I promise... promise to protect everyone so that no one around me will ever die again."
A pain blossomed somewhere in his chest and he clenched the skin above his heart, trying to stem the bleeding he had foolishly reopened with his words. Some things were better left unsaid.
If I don't stop now, I'll be late for my training.
Closing his eyes briefly, he allowed the wind to fill him in a cold, strengthening caress.
"Goodbye for now, dad. I will be back..." Eventually
Violet-tinged irises met the world again and the preteen inhaled deeply once. Finally, he pulled himself away from the stone memorials and his feet began to walk further away; even as they felt unusually heavy.
There is no time for mourning. He died years ago and I have to work this day. The shinobi told himself, bringing an image of his famous teacher to mind. The legends of the sanin team played around in his head and his with the renewed focus, the ache subsided again.
Hm, I wonder who will be on the team with me. They have to be good if they graduated a year early. I know three of us did...
And as his developing silhouette was consumed by the brightness of the new born sun, the wind alone sung softly at the memorial and tossed the petals of the flowers offered there lightly. The name gazed upon only a little while ago seemed to burn with emotion, sinking deeper into its set as if it had been called out of the prison. An ethereal hand reaching out towards the dry boy,
Hatake Hideo
Arashi leaned easily against the bridge, enjoying the peaceful lull of the stream below, humming its own lore to the chattering wind. He had arrived fifteen or so minutes early out of excitement and apprehension that would not allow his mind to be distracted. He was patient though, and could wait without pacing for the rest of his new team.
At exactly seven o'clock, another boy walked up to the designated meeting place. The spiky silver hair and amethyst eyes caused a name to spring to the blond's mind.
"Hatake," He greeted cordially, recalling him from the academy.
At the sound of his name, the approacher blinked. "Ah, Uzumaki. I should have guessed."
Both boys had attended the same classes, and they were constantly neck-and-neck for the highest scores.
"You think too highly of me Hatake." The blue-eyed gennin smiled sincerely.
An almost stern gaze caught him. "I do not exaggerate or give false compliments." But then the shinobi's visage softened. "And call me Sakumo, we are on the same team now."
He smiled. "Same goes for you then."
The fairer figure winked. "Fine then Arashi."
The sunlight mingled with the wind, casting a golden shower across the brook under the bridge.
A deep chuckle interrupted the two and both turned.
At five past, the famous sanin had finally appeared; grinning at his two new students. The boys took in his presence like it was air. Stiffening, dilated pupils, mouth slightly slack, a thousand bedtime stories replaying in their heads. And now at last, here was Jiraiya of the Frog, their new teacher.
"Seems like you two are getting a lot. Good, that will make this easier." The red-striped man smirked knowingly at their twin looks of awe.
Sakumo was the first one to regain his senses. "Where is the third student?"
The white-haired man let out a little sigh, and shifted to the side.
A thin girl with dark cardinal hair falling in waves around her pale oval face looked out at them with her silver eyes. Her stare was intense and caused silence to fall before Arashi found his tongue again.
He forced a smile on his face despite the dark, shifting aura of the newcomer. "Hello, my name is Uzumaki Arashi. It seems as though we are on the same team."
The girl kept her gaze fixated on him before a tiny frown managed to crease her face.
"You are too bright."
Blinking in surprise, the yellow-haired ninja stood in shock as the new kunoichi swept past him to the now openly frowning shinobi.
"You are not though." Her judgment was passed with a nod.
Jiraiya raked a hand through his hair, already beginning to feel it loosening for falling out as he caught three accusatory glances. He let out another melodramatic sigh.
"You see, there is this thing about the girl..."
And thus the forming of Team Jiraiya had begun.
Author's Note:I had another story posted called Crimson Valle. This is the prequel, so I took that one off to post this one. If you like it, don't worry. It will be back as soon as this one is done.
Chapter 2: A lost girl can teach patience, a bright boy can show love, and an ambitious one can know comradeship. Makes you wonder what their teacher is actually good for.