Rated T for coarse language, fantasy violence, and some adult themes
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"What times are these that the withered oak remains standing only to see the young forest consumed in fire?"
The old man's voice was tired as he looked out over the village through the large windows of the Yamakage's office. His eyes were a mess of bags and crow's feet under thick eyebrows the same bone white color of his flowing beard and tight knot of hair at the very top of his wrinkled head. Despite all this, he seemed to carry himself in a way that defied his age. Shoulders back, head unbowed, his posture gave off an air of great power under control. It would not last long.
Soon, his shoulders would stoop as his deep blue high-collard robes were covered over in white. His head would, once again, feel the crushing weight of that wide-brimmed hat bearing the symbol for "Mountain" that marked him as the leader and protector of his people.
"You may not be aware of this, but my son's wife is also with child," he continued, still staring down at the damaged cityscape. "It is my shame to admit that the final ambition of my life was nothing more than to live out my remaining years as a doting grandfather."
Sighing he turned, facing the red-haired medi-nin who was currently seated in one of the office's more comfortable chairs. In her arms, she was unconsciously rocking the infant she hadn't set down once in more than six hours since the Chief Mole had dropped her off directly in front of the Middle Village General Hospital. Needless to say, the chuunin guarding the door had been a little surprised. They'd taken her to the Yamakage Tower immediately… after a slight detour to their barracks for some clean underwear.
"That's nothing to be ashamed of," she said, sympathy clear in her tone as well as a hint of guilt. "Please, sir. Don't blame the Fourth Yamakage for what he did. I'm sure, if there was any other way…"
"It is not my desire to place blame, Mrs. Possible," the Third interjected, gently. "Though, if it was, I could just as easily turn to my predecessors, the First for his dealings with the Mystical Monkey, or the Second for not banishing its evil completely. Even I am not blameless. We were ill prepared to face this threat in part because of my insistence that the old ways be forgotten completely. In the end, the one responsible has only begun to receive its just punishment."
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No Claim on the Child:
Family Comes First
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At his words, confusion showed on her face before her eyes widened and she seemed to shrink away from him. The old man's brows raised in surprise before he realized his mistake. He was about to correct his hasty words when the office door burst open, revealing a thin man with short, brown hair wearing jounin uniform being restrained by black clad ANBU.
"AKANE!" he shouted desperately, eyes frantic and searching even as he struggled.
"James?" her head whipped around, auburn hair trailing like the tail of a comet. "James, I'm here!"
She turned clumsily, unable to use her hands to rise from her chair but needing to run into his arms as sure as she needed her next breath of air. The moment he saw her struggling to her feet, the highly trained Black-Ops Shinobi didn't stand a chance. A rush of chakra flowed through his limbs and they were sent flying to the far walls before they had a chance to blink. She was barely standing when he blurred in front of her, drawing her close as gently as he could and whispering words of love to her that seemed to run together in a mess of incredibly sweet nonsense.
"Akane…" he said, finally speaking with some clarity, as he pulled back to look at her and noticed the tiny blond head of hair poking from a rather obviously shaped blanket. "Akane?"
"Good," the Third chimed in, not waiting for her answer as he made a gesture to his ANBU guards that he was in no danger. "You've returned. I assume that your search yielded the results we expected?"
"I… Yes, Lord Yamakage," he said uncertainly. "There was no trace of the Demon's body. We believe that the disappearance might have something to do with the black smoke we saw hovering over the eastern forests."
"The body turned into smoke," added Akane in a rushed whisper. "After the Fourth finished the seal, it turned to smoke and then it just faded away. I was there, I saw it! The Mystical Monkey is gone!"
"You were… there?" her husband asked in disbelief. "What do you mean you were there? Damn it, Akane, we talked about this! What if something happened to you? To the baby?"
His harsh, angry words were suddenly drowned out by the piercing wail of the infant in her arms. The rocking motions of Akane's arms became slightly more determined as she made soft shushing noises and tried to comfort the little one, stopping only momentarily to send a glare at the one who'd woken him up.
Absolutely furious only a few seconds before, the poor jounin found himself hopelessly lost and looking to the Yamakage for answers. The old man smiled in understanding and placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder. It only managed to confuse him further when his wife's expression turned fearful and she quickly maneuvered him in between them.
"Forgive me, Lord Yamakage," he said, "but I can't make heads or tails of any of this."
"All shall become clear momentarily," promised the old man. "Your wife has performed a great service, both for my successor in the mantle of Yamakage and the Middle Village as a whole."
From there, he began to tell the story as he understood it, with Akane interjecting whenever she felt that the Yamakage might have been unfair to the Fourth. The shocked looks from her husband, as much for the mind-boggling events being related as for her blatant disrespect, were met with a wave the of old Shinobi's hand communicating that no offence was taken. It was when he had arrived at the point in the story were the Mystical Monkey was sealed that Akane joined her beloved in stunned silence.
"When I implied that the guilty party had only begun his punishment, I believe that Akane mistakenly believed I was speaking of the child." The old man smiled when the young mother-to-be slowly stepped out from behind her husband. "The Reaper Death Seal is a forbidden jutsu, one to be used only when all other options have been exhausted."
"It's because it's fatal to the one using the jutsu, isn't it, Lord Yamakage?" James deduced, basing it on what he'd heard regarding the Fourth's death.
"That is correct," the Third continued, gravely. "At the cost of his own life, a Shinobi is given the power to utterly destroy his opponent, so long as he possesses sufficient strength of will. However, there are certain complications that arise when performing this technique against something with the raw power of a Demon.
"In cases where the target's chakra is overwhelming, an intermediary is required so that the excess chakra may be drained. The younger the intermediary, the less developed its chakra network will be, lowering the inherent risk to almost non-existent if the child is newly born. When the jutsu is performed by a Seal Master, like the Fourth, the results are most astounding."
"How so?" asked Akane warily, not thrilled that there had been any risk to the baby at all.
"In this child's case," the aged ninja explained, sounding more bittersweet than happy, "the Eight Trigrams Seal will not only contain the Mystical Monkey, but will gradually convert the creature's demonic chakra into the child's own natural chakra reserves. The one responsible, the Demon, will receive his punishment as its very essence is slowly eaten away. I believe that, in fewer than three decades, there will be nothing left of the Mystical Monkey except a fair-haired young man with access to more chakra than that of a kage-level Shinobi."
"So, you're not going to hurt him?" she asked before she could stop herself, already feeling guilt at assuming the Yamakage would punish the child for something that wasn't his fault.
"Certainly not, Mrs. Possible," he said, his tone forgiving. "He has received more than his share of misfortune already. We were able to locate his mother a short time ago."
"The Fourth said that she had died giving birth," she recalled from the man's last words to the boy.
"Indeed, she had. She was discovered in a private medical suite in the basement of the hospital. Her records contained only the barest information, despite the fact that her presence here had already been classified an S-Class secret. She is listed in the charts as 'Patient Uzumaki,' but it is likely to be a false name. There has not been anyone by that name living in the Middle Village for some time. If the child is truly an Uzumaki, there will be no one to claim him."
"I claim him!" medi-nin shouted suddenly, her eyes blazing like blue fire.
"Akane!" her husband gasped in shock.
"He needs me, James!" she pleaded. "He needs us, a family. He doesn't have anyone else in the world, the Yamakage just said so."
"He's not your responsibility," he countered. "We have our own little one on the way. Shouldn't we focus on that?"
"There is wisdom in his words, Mrs. Possible," commented the old man. "I am sure the Fourth would not have expected you to care for the child. He will find care and shelter at the orphanage."
"With how many others?" she asked defiantly. "The Demon has killed dozens of Shinobi since it returned to the village. If we put this baby in an orphanage, as overcrowded as it's going to be, it could be years before anyone adopts him. There isn't much I can do for those other children, but I will not let this one suffer because I wasn't willing to do the right thing."
"You'll do what's right by the Possible Clan," said a voice behind her, the familiar gritty twang making her teeth clench. "And that's for me to decide."
They turned to see a man wearing robes of fine red silk and a stern expression sending three masked Shinobi into the far wall with a single hand strike. One could see his resemblance to the young jounin in the office, despite his much narrower face and thick, bushy moustache. Behind him, a lovely young woman with lightly tanned skin followed with an almost apologetic expression. Again, the Yamakage had to gesture to his ANBU guard not to attack, though he could sense their frustration at this second interruption.
"Lord Possible," he said, civilly, "I am surprised you do not have more pressing matters elsewhere."
"I hear that one of my in-laws was out on the battlefield carrying a future member of my clan, there ain't any more pressing matters," he answered. "Now, what's this I hear about babies and orphanages, and what're you doing holding that little runt, Akane?"
"Slim…" the jounin began softly, stepping between his wife and brother.
"You don't speak lessin' I'm talking to you, Jiro!" the clan head shouted.
"Yes, Lord Taro," he said, meekly as he bowed his head and stepped aside.
'Jiro and Taro,' she thought, seething at the display. '"Second born" and "first born." What was it that made their father give them those names? Did he think they could ever forget, when a few years difference in age made one brother a prince and the other little more than a slave? Second born or not, James was the name his mother gave him, and James is the name of the man I married. And first born or not, there's no way I'm backing down.'
"This child was put under my care by the Fourth Yamakage," said Akane, looking her brother-in-law dead in the eye. "Children have been adopted into the clan before. There's no reason for you to get involved with any of this."
The elder Possible glared down at her for a moment, regarding her with the same disapproval as a rancher would a wild horse that refused to be broken. He moved like he was about to raise a hand to her when he felt a gentle pressure on his shoulder. Breathing deeply, he let his wife's touch calm him before turning to face his younger brother.
"Well?" he asked, expectantly. "There a reason for me to get involved with any of this?"
Head bowed, Jiro's confliction warred across his features before they settled down into a look of shamed surrender.
"The boy is the vessel of the Mystical Monkey," he answered, his voice hollow.
"James!" Akane shouted, wide-eyed. "Taro, this child is completely innocent. He didn't have a say in any of this!"
"The Fourth Yamakage used a sealing technique that converts the Demon's chakra into the boy's own chakra," the jounin continued, eyes shut tight as the guilt washed over him.
"Exactly," his wife cut in, hopefully. "He'll be a powerful addition to the clan. You can't deny that."
"You expect me to just sit back and let you bring a monster into my house?" Taro asked, his question dripping with implications. "What if the seal breaks? What if it weren't any good in the first place? Naw, I ain't letting that thing anywhere near my family."
"I met him for the first time today, but we've been through enough together that I consider him as much mine as the one I'm carrying inside me," she growled. "You have no right to try and take him away from me."
"Don't suppose I do," he said, dangerously. "Fine, you keep him. But, you're out. Out of the clan, out of my house, out of my sight. For good. Jiro stays. And any child he fathered stays with him."
"Taro…" the Lady Possible murmured behind him, paling at what her husband had just said.
Akane's head lowered, until it bowed like her own husband's. When she looked back up, her eyes were furious, even as they were swimming with tears. She looked with unmasked hatred at the man who would make her choose between the boy she'd come to cherish as her own and both the love of her life and the child of their flesh.
"Damn you," she whispered.
"Mrs. Possible..." the Third began, hesitantly. "… Akane, I understand your motivations completely. You have bonded to the child, and would undoubtedly provide him with a mother's love and a happy family if you were able."
"Then let me," she begged. "Please... You're the Yamakage, you can--"
"He can't," said Taro, flatly. "This is clan business. He won't interfere because he needs the support of all the big families if he wants to rebuild the Village. Go up against a clan like the Possibles, the others get mad and maybe they write off Middle Village as a total loss and find someplace else to live. Ain't that right, Lord Yamakage?"
There was a silence as the old man stared into the clan head's eyes, his aged body giving off waves of killer intent that gave even the ANBU chills in the pits of their stomachs before he finally sighed and let his body droop. Shaking his head, he cursed his own powerlessness once more that day.
"Akane, you have my word that I will find the child a suitable home," he offered quietly, wincing like he'd just been slapped when the young medical-nin turned away from him, quietly sobbing.
"Uh… Lord Yamakage?"
Again, they turned to the office door to find the source of the interruption. The Yamakage looked to his ANBU guards with a look that practically screamed "You couldn't have at least tried to stop this one?" to which the lead guard merely smirked behind the white tengu mask he wore and shrugged as if to say "Sorry, but there are some things even we can't protect you from." Standing in the doorway was a chuunin, shorter than average and slightly out of shape, in his mid to late-thirties with glasses and sandy blond hair. In his hands was a stack of paperwork almost three feet high.
"I assume those documents demand my attention," said the Yamakage, wearily.
"Well, yes they do, Lord Yamakage," the chuunin answered, apprehensively. "We, myself and the other actuary-nins, were able to calculate the projected risks for the… um… the Demon Extermination Mission. We need your approval in order to pay the salaries of the Shinobi that survived and… the families of the one's that didn't."
"Of course," the old man nodded solemnly before gesturing to the large, currently empty, desk.
The actuary-nin quickly shuffled over, laying the paperwork on the polished marble, but he didn't leave immediately afterwards. This caught the Third's attention, as the chuunin simply stood there trying to gather the courage to speak.
"Was there something else?" the Yamakage asked patiently, after nearly a full minute had passed in silence.
"I… you see…," he nervously adjusted his glasses as he struggled to find the words. "I couldn't help overhearing, you need someone to adopt a baby don't you?"
"This is so," the old man acknowledged, carefully. "Though I wonder exactly how much you could not help but overhear."
"All of it, I think," he sheepishly admitted. "I've been standing outside the door for the last half hour, trying to wait until you were finished. I heard the part about the Mystical Monkey, what the Fourth Yamakage did, something about a special seal making some kind of ninja superbaby."
"That is essentially correct. And you still wish to adopt the child?"
"Yes," he answered, for the first time sounding confident. "My wife and I have been trying for a baby since a few years after we got married. It's been almost a decade and we've been seriously considering adoption. Now, we have the chance to raise a child of our own and help the Village doing it."
He approached Akane, asking her with his eyes if he could see the boy. Hesitantly, she shifted him in her arms until his little face was open for the chuunin to see. The two blonds regarded each other for a moment, and the larger one smiled. She knew she had no say, not really. Two paths lay in front of the child, either alone in some orphanage or with this chuunin and his wife. It was the smile that convinced her. That smile was the one she knew she'd soon see on her husbands face when their own child was born.
"May I hold him?" he asked.
The nod was difficult, but she managed it. Handing him over was even worse, but she did. As she backed away, she felt familiar arms wrapping around her from behind. She didn't blame her husband for what he'd done. She couldn't, not when she knew the sad truth of clan life. Besides, she needed him now more than ever.
"Hello, son," the blond chuunin spoke warmly to the squirming bundle he cradled in his arms. "Do you have a name yet?"
"Yes," said Akane, softly.
She reached down, lifting the material of her tunic to reveal a hidden pouch on her hip. Reaching inside, she brought out the three-bladed kunai and held it up for everyone to see. The single, delicately carved word stood out on the center blade.
Rondo
"Rondo? I wonder what it means?" the chuunin asked.
"It's a musical term," answered the medi-nin, distantly. "There are two main aspects to it. First, the rondo form, a musical structure that, no matter much its musical themes change, will always return to the original refrain. Then, the rondo character, it keeps a tempo that's swift, full of life. Just like a little boy should be."
"Hmm… Rondo… Ronnie… Ron. I like it," he said, cheerfully. "I can't wait to see the look on my wife's face when she comes home to find the two of us waiting for her."
"Wait," the Third spoke up, confused. "Do you intend to adopt the child without informing your wife beforehand?"
"This'll be my way of telling her," he said simply.
"Welcome to the family, Ron Stoppable."
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More than four years later
"I felt it, I felt it!" the little girl squealed. "I felt baby sister kick!"
Giggling, she pulled back her hand from her mother's stomach and looked up with a wide smile. Smiling right back, her mother squeezed her other hand fondly and together they continued on towards their destination.
Time had moved on for the Village Hidden in the Middle. Homes were rebuilt, loved ones where mourned, and everywhere signs of new life were springing up. Walking hand in hand down the main street of the village, the two redheads made quite the pair. The elder one, looking positively regal even this close to her due date, wore a beautiful lavender kimono befitting a member of one of the Middle Village's Great Clans, while her daughter's kimono was a vibrant teal that set off her bright, green eyes adorably. It was times like these that Akane would whisper silent thanks to the ones that had made all of this possible.
She had never forgotten, would never forget. She knew exactly what it had cost to save them.
'And what did I do to repay them?' Akane thought, sadly.
After the Stoppables had accepted Rondo into their family, all that was left for her was to persuade the Third Yamakage to grant the Fourth his last request. The old man had resisted, but she'd been determined and, in the end, she'd convinced him.
'I convinced him and single-handedly ruined the boy's life.'
She knew that the Fourth felt horrible about involving Rondo in the battle, she had heard as much from the man himself. That was probably what motivated him to ask that particular favor. It seemed harmless enough. One simple message for his people:
"I'm not the hero today," he'd said. "He is. And every day he lives is another day he saves the lives of every man, woman, and child in this village."
And so, on the day the Third Yamakage took on the responsibility of the Village Hidden in the Middle for the second time, he made a single speech. In that speech, he explained everything that'd happened that day in the Eastern forest.
He explained that the Fourth hadn't been fighting the Demon alone, that he had found help from an unlikely source, a newborn child.
Then, he explained that the Demon hadn't been destroyed like they all had assumed. That it lived on inside the body of that same newborn child.
Her heart had broken that day, as choruses of "Kill the Demon brat!" rang in her ears.
If that wasn't difficult enough, it seemed that the Mystical Monkey wasn't content to rest peacefully. The boy suffered unbelievable night terrors, the worst of which put fear in even the hearts of the Shinobi sent to guard him. Killing intent too powerful to be human seemed to leak out of his every pore.
In three and a half years, the Stoppables hadn't let anyone into their home unless it was authorized by the Yamakage. She had only been able to see the boy when they brought him by the hospital for his regular check ups.
He'd stopped coming to those two years ago.
About her own life, Akane could hardly complain. Her work at the hospital was exciting and challenging, her husband was just as loving as ever, and her little girl was the shining star of the Possible Clan, spreading happiness and hope for the future. They were even expecting another new edition to their family, one that her daughter had firmly decided would be her new baby sister.
Five years before, it was all she ever could have wanted. Now, it only made her feel even guiltier whenever she thought about him. She felt a tug on her arm, breaking her stride and her concentration. A few steps behind her, the little girl stared upwards with wide eyes.
"Do I have to go in there, Mommy?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly.
Akane looked and saw that, sure enough, they'd arrived some time during her extended guilt trip. They stood in front of a brightly painted building, the words "Middle Village Pre-School" tacked up on the roof in big block letters.
"Kim…" she began gently, leaning close because she couldn't exactly kneel down in her condition.
"I could stay with you and take care of you when Daddy's away on a mission," added the child, excitedly. "And after baby sister is born, I can stay and take care of her when you go to work!"
"Kimiko," her voice was firmer this time. "We talked about this. I know you're scared that you won't make any friends, but you should remember what your Daddy says."
"Always say 'Please and Thank you?'" asked Kimiko, confused at what this had to do with making friends.
"No, Kimi," she answered patiently. "The other thing he says."
"That the weird lady with the green skin doesn't wear any underwear?"
"No…" her mother answered through clenched teeth, making a mental note to encourage her husband to make sure to check for little ears before describing the lewd habits of his coworkers. "The other thing his says. 'Anything's possible for Clan Possible.'"
"But what if nobody else wants to play with me?" the little girl asked, grasping at Akane's kimono. "What if they make me sit all alone by myself?"
"That's silly, Kimiko. Why would you think they would do that?"
"Because," she said, pointing through the wrought iron fence that separated the school playground from the street, "they already did it to that little boy."
Akane arched an eyebrow before she took a glance at where her daughter was pointing. There, on the swing set, a little boy did seem to be all by himself, watching the other children play around him. Her pulse quickened when she saw the mess of blond hair but, when he turned his head their way, she had to grab onto the metal gate to keep herself from falling.
His eyes were big and brown, and he had three uncommonly dark freckles on each cheek.
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Mogurabunta: Rufus!
Rufus: Hrnk, Daddy?
Mogurabunta: I thought I told you to keep an eye on that boy.
Rufus: Uh-huh, uh-huh!
Mogurabunta: Well, get your hairless li'l hind end in gear, he's under attack!
Rufus: Nnnnk, nuh-unh. Playtime.
Mogurabunta: Playtime!?! What kind of idiot creatures let their young'uns play a game like that? Oh, wait. Humans.
Next time on Badical Nindo:
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The Warmest Eyes:
We'll Play by Our Own Rules!
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Author's Note: Yowza. I really wasn't expecting the outpouring of positive feedback. Believe me, folks, it's truly appreciated. I'm updating sooner than I usually do for two main reasons.
1. I'm writing shorter chapters. True, there's less to read at one time, but you get it sooner. And you have to live with a few more cliffhangers.
2. I wanted to wait until I got five reviews (good or bad) before I updated. Turns out, I end up with six. Your outpouring of love has been duly noted.
As you can see, I decided to stick with the Anime Dub style. The only votes on the subject suggested I do so, and I hate to disappoint. This one might have been a little slow. Don't worry, our little buffoon will be spicing things up soon enough.
Special thanks to RSfan (How can anyone watch the Ron v. Warhawk smackdown and not think of anime?), CajunBear73 (No way I could've written Rufus out of this one), Miguel Dubón (Poetic? Dude, I just hit stuff), Mr. Wizard (All will be explained, hopefully to your satisfaction), necro-wulf (I feel giddy, Oh so giddy… Seriously, reviews like these are my drugs), and Dendarang (soon enough for you?).
I greatly appreciate all your suggestions and, even though it's physically impossible to follow all of them at the same time, I'm getting a good idea about where you all want it to go. Keep 'em coming. Nothing makes updates come faster… other than me actually finishing the chapters, that is.
Embrace one another, brothers and sisters, and find blessing in the choruses of cracking ribs,
-Brother Bludgeon
Kim Possible created by Mark McCorkle and Robert Schooley.
Naruto created by Masashi Kishimoto