I didn't wake until late afternoon the following day, which I supposed was a good thing since that meant I had very little time to wait until the festival started. It wasn't that I minded waiting or anything, I just preferred the fun to start right away as opposed to later, when I might not feel up to it. Yeah... on top of my utterly ridiculous ninja skills, I was lazy to boot.
Rolling over in bed, quilt wrapped securely around me like a cocoon, I sighed longingly, wishing I could slip back into the wonderful dream I'd been having. I couldn't remember it exactly – the only time I ever had vivid dreams was when I dared to eat cheese before bed (not something I advise by the way) – but I was sure there had been a swan and chocolate involved. Any dream with chocolate in it had to have been good.
As I prepared to snuggle up and fade back into the welcoming arms of the Land of Snooze (my team mates were always making fun of me, saying that if I founded my own country that's what it would be called), something weighty fell off the end of the bed. Taking it to be an omen, I reluctantly dragged myself to my feet to retrieve it, struggling momentarily with my cosy nest of quilt and pillows and wondering if I'd have time to go get myself a nice kimono for the festival.
Bending, I found a neat package wrapped in brown paper bearing an untidy scrawl on the front. 'Here are your clothes,' it read. 'I didn't want to wake you so I left them on the bed. When you're hungry come to the desk and I'll fix you a meal.'.
A smile, small but genuine, played across my lips as I opened the package and caught a whiff of lavender. Ah... bliss
Lavender was among my favourite smells in the world, along with pine trees in the rain, the sterile antiseptic of hospitals (what can I say? It had a relaxing tang to it.) and of course freshly baked bread. I remember my Grandma used to grow lavender in her garden, and every Saturday morning at breakfast she'd put a fresh sprig of it in a vase on the table before Gramps and me came down stairs – I spent a lot of time at my grandparents house back when they were alive.
Pushing the bittersweet memories aside, I removed the familiar green and lilac top, black trousers and Ninja shoes from the package, inspecting them carefully; ninja habits die hard, I guess. I found – to my delight – that not only had my clothes been washed, they'd been dried and pressed too. In fact if I hadn't known any better I might have thought they were brand new, immaculate as they were. She'd even managed to remove an old blood stain on the hem of my left sleeve that I'd retained from a particularly nasty mission last month. I made a mental note to thank the old woman later. And ask how she was able to wash them so brilliantly too – info like that would be a valuable asset.
Pulling the top on – noting as I did so, the silken feel of it against my bare skin – I quickly decided I wasn't gonna bother going to Ms Miagi for food; I'd eat at the festival instead. It was only about an hour away from starting anyway and I didn't want to ruin my appetite for the multitudes of festive food which would no doubt be on offer.
Actually that was only part of the reason I didn't want to eat right away. I was sure Ms Miagi would have no objections but I didn't want her to go out of her way and make a meal for me when I was sure she'd be busy getting ready for the festival herself.
I finished dressing and peered out the window at the people milling about the streets below. By my reckoning it was about 6pm – already the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the landscape a lovely warm red colour that reminded me of the glow in the big ovens at my mom's bakery. The people were all wearing traditional dress – kimonos of every imaginable colour and design – finishing last minute preparations for what was clearly an important day for them. For the first time I found myself wondering what the festival was celebrating exactly, and as the excited chatter drifted up through the window, I couldn't help feeling keyed up too.
With nothing else to do I hurried downstairs to join the hustle and bustle of the town, stepping into the warm evening air with a contented sigh. I wandered down the street aimlessly, keeping my eyes open for a clothes shop where I could buy a kimono but not all that bothered whether I found one or not. From the corner of my eye I spotted a group of kids playing with a skipping rope fashioned from an old washing line and paused to watch with a nostalgic smile, laughing when a boy managed to get himself tied up just like a certain friend of mine had once upon a time. I remembered all too well the days when I used to play games like that.
/\
The festival started promptly at 7pm and boy, was it a lively event! Music and dancing, competitions and games and some boisterous (albeit terrible for the most part!) singing. The lanterns were all lit, sending brightly coloured shadows dancing across the walls and turning the street into a rainbow dreamland. Delicious smells from loads of different foods hung thick in the air, mixing together in the party atmosphere and becoming the exclamation of all the joy the people radiated.
In the end I was able to find a kimono to wear for the festival – a pretty royal blue one with pale pink cherry blossom petals at the bottom, arranged in such a way that they looked like exploding fireworks. The sleeves were lined with the same delicate pink colour and the obi was a shade lighter with blue beads that made a pleasant 'click, click' when I walked. It was beautiful and I couldn't wait to show my mom; she loved clothes, almost as much as she loved to bake. My other clothes were stowed in a drawstring bad I'd slung over my shoulder, slightly ruining the overall effect but hey! Beggars can't be choosers.
The parade started half an hour in and I have to say, never in my life have I seen anything quite like it. It was the perfect mix of small town amateurishness and endearing effort, very unlike the strictly organized, must-be-perfect parades my village held. A nice change, I felt.
Pigging out on sweet dumplings by the luminosity of a green paper lantern, I watched the procession with fascination. There were lithe dancers in elegant red, blue and purple robes, people juggling kunai knives (a decidedly dangerous sport, I thought), a long silver and gold dragon which weaved through the streets with impressive grace, and loads of children dressed up as various animals, the costumes of which were obviously home-made. I noticed Kizuno, the annoying, squeaky kid from yesterday, dressed as a tiger and waved good-naturedly as she passed, feeling that it was too good an occasion to play the awkward tourist.
Too soon for my liking the parade had passed, and not five minutes later Kizuno bounced over still dressed in her tiger costume, asking in long-winded sentences which ran into each other if I'd like to watch the fireworks with her later. I agreed – after all, it got terribly lonely to watch them solo – and she followed me while I hunted for a drinks stall; the dumplings had left me feeling quite dry.
Despite her near constant stream of meaningless babble, I actually had a really fun time with the kid. I'd always wanted a little brother or sister but mom was totally devoted to my dad and had refused to remarry after his death. Unfortunately that meant no siblings for me but with Kizuno – as irritating as she was – it was almost as if my wish had come true. We had a go at water yo-yo fishing and ate sukiyaki; we even bought matching paper fans, just like a real big sister and little sister would.
An hour later, as I sipped on my third bottle of lemonade, Kizuno was still chattering away to me; something about how she'd been studying ninja in class this week (jeez, the girl was obsessed with ninja!). I wasn't really paying attention; I was more interested in examining the other kids' costumes and enjoying the fun while I could – tomorrow I'd be all business again and I'd leave for my village at first light. I wanted to steal this moment of normalcy, of civilian life, while the stealing was good.
I giggled to myself as an old man with a crinkly face and a fragile looking frame tried to throw a ball and barely managed to get it 3ft from himself. I smiled indulgently as we passed a young couple holding hands, the woman patting a bloated stomach full of life as her husband grinned proudly. Inside I ached with longing; each happy face we passed, each ordinary life that brushed past my not-so-ordinary one, reminded me that these things would probably never be for me. I mean I wasn't one of those girls who dreams of growing up and getting married and having kids (ew, to be quite frank. Just ew.) but at least civilians had the security of knowing those things could be theirs, if they wanted. With Shinobi it was different... We were lucky if we had the security of knowing we'd live to see another day let alone reach a point in our lives where we wanted a family and such.
So wrapped up in my own world was I that when Kizuno became quiet all of a sudden, it was a while before I noticed. In fact the only reason I noticed at all was because I happened to look down out of habit, checking – as I did every so often – that she was still there and unharmed (okay, so maybe I'm a bit protective. I may be emotionally crippled but I still have basic maternal instincts, y'know.).
I'd expected to see her beaming up at me, still talking away about ninja no doubt, but was met only with an unobstructed view of the dusty road, littered as it was with empty packets and drinks containers. Coming to an abrupt halt I spun in a tight, confused circle, looking for the girl who'd been with me – as far as I could tell – just seconds ago, yet now seemed to have been swallowed up by the ground itself.
It didn't take me long to spot her; she was standing several metres back the way we'd come, staring longingly at one of the stalls with what struck me as almost zombie-like attentiveness. Being naturally – and in some cases, dangerously – curious in nature, I ambled over and tried to follow her gaze. It proved to be more difficult than you'd imagine; not counting my crap abilities, there was a lot of stuff in the direction she was looking. Four or five stalls, a large gathering of people – mostly little old ladies – and more of those delicate lanterns and origami decorations, among other things. She could have been looking at anything.
"What-cha lookin' at Kizuno?" I asked cheerfully, shaking her thin shoulder lightly.
She tore her gaze away from whatever it was and looked at me, not saying a word which was very unlike her. Her eyes locked onto mine and that was when I had my first inkling of trouble. Her eyes were empty, devoid of the lively sparkle they'd held just moments before. I'd seen this kind of thing before... I knew I had. But here's the funny part – I couldn't remember where I'd seen it or what it was.
Taking my hand, Kizuno led me through the crowd of elderly women and my suspicions faded a little – maybe she'd just seen something and I was overreacting? It was a fair enough explanation... But part of me screamed that that wasn't what was going on here.
We stopped at a small games stall, one where the aim was to knock down a pyramid of cans to win the prize. In the back of the stall, under the red canopy, there were three pyramids of cans, each about two meters apart on a long, worn table that looked like it had seen better days. Behind and around the table there were stuffed toys pinned to the walls – toy ninja unless I was much mistaken. Now there's a surprise, I thought dryly.
The toys were ridiculously poor made and if I'm being quite honest, a little insulting. Wearing what looked suspiciously like black jumpsuits – ones that weirdly extended to cover the dolls faces – and each holding a little grey mockery of what could only be shuriken, they were the most pathetic excuse for ninja I'd ever seen in my life. Seriously, someone could be dressed in a clown-suit and still be more ninja-like than these rag-dolls.
A grubby looking man with beady little eyes and a sly face that just screamed 'sleaze ball' approached and asked if we wanted a go. Kizuno's eyes remained blank (where had I seen that look before?!), but she squeezed my hand and pointed to one of the toys like she'd suddenly lost all means of verbal communication. I'd been about to tell the greasy stall minder exactly what I thought about his cheap, rip-off merchandise and that no, I would not like a go when Kizuno's odd behaviour pulled at my 'danger' sense again, disarming me with worry.
Now, a sensible ninja would've taken the girl home, packed all her stuff and left immediately – this wasn't my village, ergo nothing that went down here was any of my business. But I'm infamous for being a decidedly un-sensible ninja. So with a hesitant frown I turned to the man and nodded, handing him some money and accepting the three soft balls without really looking at him, my eyes still peeking at Kizuno anxiously. Well, I told myself, It'll be a nice way to repay her for helping me find a place to stay... I suppose... Even so I still couldn't shake my off my apprehension.
I mentioned before that I'm still only a chuunin... Well as it turns out there's a very good reason for that. Two reasons, in fact. One was my ninjutsu. Apart from my trap, barrier and escape Jutsu, I was really only very good with water-based techniques and very basic ones at that. As you can imagine, that causes problems when enemies know how to either counter it or use an element I was weak against. I just didn't have anything as a back up plan. That wouldn't be too difficult to deal with under normal circumstances - a skilled Ninja can use any Jutsu effectively. The problem was I wasn't a skilled ninja. Reason number two was more of a hindrance. I had a ridiculously bad aim. No joke. Worst. Aim. Ever!
Since we were so close to the target and I was a ninja despite appearances, I was sure I'd be able to hit it no problem. But just in case, I decided to use a technique I'd developed for dealing with close-range targets without messing up and, you know, dying or something. It was useless for anything over 100 meters because after that my chakra control wasn't as acute as when it was close to my body, and I hadn't perfected it by any means, but it should be okay for this. Taking the first ball in my hand and pretending to weigh it like I had some inkling of how to throw it like a normal person, I made a hand sign behind my back – sure, it was cheating, but what the slimy stall man didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
Water flowed into the ball swiftly and silently and hey presto! Since I could use chakra to control water (to an extent) I could now control the ball. Almost carelessly, I tossed it at the first stack of cans and with my complete control it sailed clean through it, knocking all the cans to the floor with a deafening clatter. I grinned triumphantly – though there'd have been more cause for triumph if I'd done it without the little trick – accepting my prize from the stall owner who seemed less than pleased by my win. Glancing at the toy Ninja, I was still unimpressed. It had a head much larger than it's body which was offensive enough, but on top of that it looked fat and not really up to much ninja-ing at all!
It's a toy, stupid, I reminded myself sternly. What toy do you know that goes out on ninja missions? Shaking my head I turned and held it out to Kizuno... who, much to my surprise, wasn't there.
"Kizuno? Hey, Kizuno!" I called, getting anxious again. I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach – intuition, I think it's called – that told me something was seriously wrong here. The origami decorations fluttered in a sudden chilly breeze and a shudder ran down my spine like sharp fingernails. Something definitely wasn't right here...
I turned on my heel and ran through the crowded town, shouting for Kizuno like a mad woman and becoming more and more panicked by the second. People stared at me with worried expressions but I didn't have time to think about that. With the increasing alarm came regret – I desperately wished I'd brought my ninja gear with me. Something told me this wasn't going to end well and it would be nice to have at least one weapon.
/\
"KIZUNO!!" I screeched after a whole hour of fruitless searching, abandoning all attempts at subtlety. I was almost running at full speed, still clutching the joke of a ninja toy in my right fist. If looks could kill, I'd have died several times already – everyone's eyes were fixed on me, all filled with the same small town censure bred from a life lived in a respectable community. I could read their disapproval easily; they all thought I was mentally incompetent.
My breathing, which had become more and more laboured as panic turned into full on terror, was now like something from a horror film and in accordance, my face had turned beet red with humiliation. But I didn't care. Something was unspeakably wrong. Something bad was happening, even as I ran around like an mother of all idiots.
"KIZUNO!" I wailed, a sense of helplessness and bone-chilling fear settling in as the wheels of fate worked to pull the threads of it's abominable plans into place. "KIZUN-," my strangled cry was cut short when I spotted her at long last in the middle of the road, staring at me with those unnerving, empty eyes of hers as people bustled by obliviously. Almost instantly, something else caught my eye and the crowds melted away like butter in a frying pan, becoming so much background colour in my peripheral vision as the sounds thickened to a distant, muffled mumble.
I was frozen stock still, listening to my rasping breaths as relief and horror both took hold at the same time. Relief because Kizuno was safe and unharmed – though by the look of things that could change at any given minute. The horror was because she wasn't alone. With her were two tall men, both of whom I could tell were unmistakably dangerous with just a glance. I recognised the smaller of the two and suddenly my legs felt like they wouldn't support me any more.
One, the taller of the two, had features oddly reminiscent of a shark and was carrying a massive sword on his back that would have made any ninja weapons I picked up look like children's knick-knacks. His skin held a tint of blue to it and he had what appeared to be gills on his face, sitting beneath wide, staring eyes. His hair was a darker, more mysterious blue that reminded me of deep summer nights and ocean floors, and stood right on end as if he'd been electrocuted. There was only one word that echoed in my head as I tentatively felt out his chakra and started sizing him up (not that I thought I stood a chance, I was merely following ninja conduct): monster. Something told me this man could make mincemeat out of me without even breaking a sweat.
The other was a man I couldn't possibly mistake. Long black hair in a loose ponytail down his back; cold eyes that held an infinite capacity for cruelty; a Leaf ninja head band with a deep score through the emblem... there was no room for doubt. It was Itachi Uchiha. I registered nothing else about him as the name tore through my nervous system, setting my very fibre ablaze with utmost terror – I didn't need to study his chakra to know I was as good as dead if he wanted me to be.
Now I knew what was up with Kizuno. Now I knew what was so familiar about her zombie-like state. She was trapped in a genjutsu. Itachi's genjutsu.
They both wore a black cloak adorned with red clouds which served only to intensify the horrible truth. Akatsuki were here, in this town. Or two of them at least, which was more than enough to make sure I never left short of being in a body bag. Fear rooted me to the spot. I didn't know why they were here, in this backwater town of all places, but I didn't really care; I'd always tried to make a point of not being where they were. Especially the Uchiha... I'd heard rumours of what he could do to a person without even lifting a finger. I didn't want to be the one to put the allegation to the test.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, the logical, Shinobi part of myself frowned. If they were here, it meant they hadn't been apprehended by the Leaf and Sand ninja yesterday. How was that even possible? Two of the biggest nations in the world had sent their best troops on this mission; surely not even Akatsuki could walk away from something like that looking as unscathed as these two did. It beggared belief!
Kizuno hadn't moved an inch yet, still stuck in the empty trance caused by what I imagined must be a pretty powerful genjutsu if it was able to keep her quiet. I doubted she was gonna be waking up any time soon which made things even more difficult – I couldn't very well leave her and it didn't look like she was in a fit state to run. As I tried to come up with a plan (though if I'm honest I didn't really harbour any hopes of coming up with one) the criminals took a unified step towards me, leaving Kizuno behind like a forgotten tool – which was all she was to them, I didn't doubt. That's when I made my decision.
Not quite knowing what I was doing – which I find is for the best in situations like these – I forced chakra into my feet and sprinted straight at them. And I mean straight at them.
It was a good thing I did because in doing so I had the element of surprise and that was the only thing that saved me.
They hadn't expected a move so bold – neither had I, truthfully – so I was able to run right past them unobstructed while they took a second gathering their wits about them. Grabbing Kizuno as I went, I ran as if Satan (Itachi...) himself were at my heels. Pushing through the throng of relaxed festival goers and ignoring the angry yells and complaints left in my wake, I rounded a corner between two well decorated buildings to be met with a dead end. A grey wall at the far end of the alley reached high into the sky and seemingly blocked further progress; well, for civilians it did. But such obstacles meant nothing to a Shinobi and I dashed straight up it, determined that I was stopping for no one. Least of all the bloodthirsty murderers I'd just left in the dust.
Of course, even Shinobi have their limits and I realised – to my dismay – that I was nearing mine with alarming speed. I'd already spent a large portion of the night (and my chakra) running around searching for Kizuno; I didn't have enough energy left to keep running and carry her at the same time. If I could ditch her somewhere – somewhere safe obviously – I could probably escape using one of my techniques. But as I flitted over the rooftops, beautiful kimono fluttering around my bare legs like the wings of a huge, exotic butterfly, it looked like a safe place was going to be hard to come by. And I'd rather be hiding when the Akatsuki members caught up, not running and ready to collapse. So, spotting the relative cover of a rubbish strewn alley four or five blocks from where I started, I stopped and fell to the ground gasping.
Through my heavy, panicked pants and the fog of frantic, mostly unintelligible thoughts, I felt a deep concern for the young Kizuno roil in my stomach; she still wasn't back to normal yet and like I said earlier, the Uchiha's genjutsu could do things not even a primed ninja could recover from. God only knew what she was going through in the confines of her own mind, unable to escape or even scream for help... I checked her vital signs and let out a relieved sigh when I found that she was very much alive – that was something at least. Mentally damaged was better than dead, I guess.
Setting her beside me carefully, I propped her against the grimy wall behind us, making sure her airways were clear and she wouldn't choke on her tongue before I turned to focus on more immediate and demanding problems. Like what I was going to do now. If they were after me – and I supposed they could be; I was the one who'd disabled their traps after all – the chances were I was dead if they caught me. In fact, even if it wasn't me they were here for, they knew I was a ninja so they'd probably kill me anyway – they didn't know I was nowhere near powerful enough to constitute a threat. So I had only one option really: don't let them catch me. If that wasn't possible – and although I was trying to stay positive, it was hard to believe I stood even the shadow of a chance – I should at least avoid getting caught by Itachi; I wasn't a fan of the slow and painful method. I'd rather be chopped up by the blue man's beast of a sword than mind raped.
Taking note of my surroundings for possible routes of escape, I met the steely yellow gaze of a huge ginger cat by the lid of an upended trash can. I wasn't particularly fond of cats – they struck me as evil and ominous. We didn't have many around Waterfall Village (something to do with all the water, I don't doubt) and whenever I had spotted one, bad things had ensued, whether it was an accident involving my loved ones or simply one of those days where everything I did went wrong somehow. The sight of this monster of a feline didn't inspire me with confidence and I felt my heart sink as the usual sense of impending doom settled in my gut.
I let out a deep, coughing bark to scare it off and – predictably – it slinked out of the alley and around the corner with an angry yowl. Kizuno and I were alone again in the dark little alley, not much else of interest around unless you found half-rotted rubbish interesting. Sighing tiredly and wondering how on earth something that was meant to have been fun could turn so nightmare-worthy in little over an hour, I turned back to Kizuno with thoughts of trying to wake her somehow.
But wouldn't you figure it?
She was gone! Again!
"Kizuno?!" I cried in an exasperated whisper, hoping against hope that she was near and had simply woken and wandered off by herself. I was in no state to go looking for her again – my chakra was practically gone – and with members of Akatsuki out there I didn't want to have to. I was lucky the first time but if they found me again I'd have no chance of getting away. "Ki-zu-no!" I separated her name into syllables, as if it would make any difference.
This time someone did answer me... but it definitely wasn't Kizuno.
"Relax! The girl's fine, un." the someone chuckled, sounding amused and – oddly – a bit excited. The voice was masculine, fairly young and immature sounding and somewhat familiar but, much like the symptoms of genjutsu I'd failed to recognise in Kizuno, I couldn't remember why it was so familiar. "I'm impressed y'know. I really thought they'd have had you by now, un. Guess our little Waterfall chuunin has a few tricks up her dainty sleeves," His voice was laced with a mocking, condescending laughter that tickled a memory in the back of my skull... But why? Where had I heard-
...oh. The events of last night rolled through my head in double time and I groaned. I knew that voice. And I knewwho it belonged to. I mean really knew. I wasn't dead on my feet from sleep deprivation today and almost as if to add insult to injury, a super sharp image of the man's profile – criminal profile – flashed through my head like a photograph.
"Deidara." I spat, disgusted with myself for not realising it sooner. "Give the child back! Now!"
"Or else what, un?" came the cocky reply. He leapt from a nearby roof and landed in front of me so fast that I actually jumped back in shock. He held Kizuno under his left arm like a sack of potatoes and this spiked my anger more than anything else; so disregarding of the fact that he held a child's life in his evil hands.
"Or else I'll rip your arms off and beat you around the head with them!" I snarled. My threat, although impressive-sounding, was empty; I didn't have the strength left to so much as touch him. And he knew it.
"I'm shaking. But enough small talk, un! Down to buisness." he smirked, that laughing undertone in his voice displayed in full on his sly face. "You're coming with us. No questions asked, un."
My scowl intensified but inside I was confused; why the hell would they want me alive? What could I possibly offer them that they couldn't get from a better source? Regardless of their reasons, I almost instantly decided I wasn't going. If they wanted me they would have to physically drag me and I wasn't going to make that easy for them either. I would've gotten up and run away there and then, but I couldn't. I had to get Kizuno back first – call me crazy but leaving her just wasn't an option. It was probably my fault she was there in the first place.
"I'm not going anywhere. Not if you don't give Kizuno back right this second," I shook my head slowly to emphasise my point, face icy, mirroring my emotions.
"I will, un. If you come quietly." he promised, a boyish grin lighting his handsome features. "Don't give me that look!" he exclaimed when I shot an acidic glare his way. "That's a fairer deal than most would get from me, un. I could just take you, you know."
"I've told you; let the kid go first. Then - and only then - we'll talk." I growled, adamant that Kizuno's safety came before anything else. Stricken by inspiration I added, "Put her down and let me put a barrier around her. Then I'll listen to you."
It was a gamble; I knew that. A barrier of sufficient magnitude to protect her from the likes of Deidara would certainly use the last of my chakra, and then my escape techniques would be limited to good old fashioned running. But from what I could tell of his personality combined with what I knew about him from his profile, it was obvious he was overconfident. He was certainly too strong in all aspects for me to take on but if he thought he was guaranteed victory, he might let his guard down. Weak reasoning and not the best odds to pit myself against but my choices were limited at this point.
"You don't trust me to let her go, un?" he asked, pretending to sound hurt.
"I make it my policy not to trust S-class criminals," I replied harshly.
He shrugged nonchalantly as if to say 'yeah, whatever' and dropped her unceremoniously to the ground. Kizuno landed with a heavy thud and I hissed angrily at his cold treatment of the girl, rushing forward to check her over but continually flicking my eyes back to the untrustworthy criminal – Deidara was a man not to be taken lightly and I wouldn't put it past him to attack me while my back was turned.
Physically, Kizuno was fine – perfectly healthy from head to toe. But I felt a passing worry that her eyes were still glazed and empty, meaning she was still in the clutches of the Uchiha's genjutsu. I could only hope she would suffer no lasting damage and that he'd release it when I either escaped or was taken into their custody, which ever way it happened to swing.
Letting out a breath to steady myself and centre my chakra, I set about constructing the strongest, most complex barrier I knew of. I didn't know if Deidara would be able to break it – I didn't think so since he wasn't exactly a defence-based Shinobi – but even if he did, I knew he wouldn't kill her straight away. She was his bargaining chip and we both knew I was more likely to surrender if he had a hostage. Then again, that was always assuming he felt the need to even use a hostage – I think we both knew he didn't really need one to capture me.
"Didn't hear you complaining about me being a criminal last night, un." he muttered, watching interestedly as I performed the appropriate hand signs. My face flushed at how completely dodgy that sounded.
"I didn't know who you were last night!" I retorted hotly. He didn't answer with words but his smirk told me exactly what he thought of that.
Finishing the barrier, I got to my feet and inconspicuously stretched my tired muscles, preparing to run for it like I'd never ran in my entire life even though I knew nothing short of a miracle would get me out of this. I'd stand a much better chance if I could knock him out or something but it was best not to tempt fate – besides, I doubted I could knock him out. Sweat borne of fear trickled down my face in rivulet as I contemplated the possible negative outcomes of this 'getaway'. None of them were pleasant, I can assure you.
"Well now. Where were we?" I asked scathingly, wandering as far from him as I dared, trying to look like I was doing nothing more interesting that admiring the dirty wall on my left. If he knew what I was planning, he made no move to stop it and that suited me just fine.
I coughed, clearing my throat as nervous terror threatened to override my will to escape. Before I could change my mind I rushed off as fast as I could, up the nearest wall and over the rooftops – a task I noted would have been much easier if I'd been wearing clothes more suited to the rigours of ninja life. Beggars can't be choosers and they certainly weren't survivors.
After a while – a very short while – I heard him following but didn't dare look back; I argued that at least if he was following me, he'd left Kizuno alone. A small victory for me then! An irrelevant one but it would do.
The full moon, framed in inky darkness by thousands of glittering pinpricks of light, was the only source of illumination up here. Well, apart from some gorgeous fireworks every now and then. I felt a pang of disappointment despite the fact that I was in mortal peril – I loved fireworks. The way they lit the sky with their colours and patterns, the majesty of their presence like a God's greeting to His (or Her) people... another form of art...
I briefly considered stopping; maybe they'd let me watch before I was dragged of to heaven knows where. Or maybe they'd just beat me to within an inch of my life and drag away me anyway. Behind me I heard Deidara gaining and the thought was instantly replaced with pure survival drive. I didn't fancy finding out which one he'd choose; I had a feeling I didn't need to guess.
With my complete lack of chakra, the chase wouldn't have lasted very long anyway. But bumping into three other Akatsuki members was just plain nasty. If there was a God I was sure he hated me. I must have been one evil son(er... daughter) of a bitch in my past life.
I was barely keeping out of Deidara's range – and I mean he was practically on me – when jumped a gap between two buildings and made the terrible mistake of looking down. Below me, running up the side of the building I'd taken off from, was someone in a weird orange, swirly mask. I'd never seen him before but his cloak, billowing behind him like the wings of a dark bat, left me in no doubt; he was another Akatsuki.
Cursing as he stretched a gloved hand up and managed to catch hold of my ankle, I kicked viciously until he eventually let go. And that's where my luck ran out.
The shark man who'd been with Itachi Uchiha came at me from the left with a speed I wouldn't have believed possible for his size, clipping my shoulder with his huge sword sword. Even the tiny contact it'd had was enough to more or less tear my arm open, my flesh seeming to disintegrate beneath it's touch even though – from what I'd seen – it had been bandaged up. The sensation was agonizing – an odd burning feeling with a waspish bite to it – but I was still able to run so I didn't pause even though my vision was starting to blur; a result of rapid blood loss from the wound, I think. When I dared to look at my torn up arm, I had to fight to stay on my feet – it wasn't pretty.
Still going but gradually slowing, I dove on to the next rooftop determinedly, blood trailing behind me like some sort of gruesome ribbon.
I should've been watching where I was going, so it didn't come as much of a surprise when I ran headlong into the final member. I'd known he was hanging around somewhere; he didn't strike me as the type to leave a task to others. Looking up in terror, all the fight draining from me like a switch had been flipped, I just had time to glimpse Itachi's cold, dark eyes before something connected harshly with the back of my head and everything went dark.
My final thought before I slumped to the concrete and into unconsciousness was, I can't believe this is happening to me...
And XxFearTheFluffxX said let chapter 4 be re-written. And so it was that chapter 4 was rewritten. :D