October 19th, 1942
Calcutta, India 0430 Hours
It was still very much nighttime, but the lights of the city sprawl were eternally lit, shadows blending the old with the new. Steel suspension bridges spanned canals ancient when the Elemental nations had been born, AA-gun emplacements jutting up like esoteric totems of a lively culture, already dead and festering inside.
He came up gagging, not near enough to throw himself upon the steps of one of those pristine limestone temples. Instead, finding himself under the cover of a dilapidated pier somewhere far away from the industrial district occupied by Allied naval vessels of a colorful assortment. The once-sacred temples in the storied Old District held their own dangers in the form of fat and contemptuous officers of a foreign army which had declared themselves enemies. Even here, occasional searchlights swept the deserted beaches searching for the footprints they'd never find.
All this to meet with the enemy's enemy, not necessarily friendly.
A firm hand wrenched him free of the muck which mired him up to his knees, dirty sediment still clinging to his face and lungs.
"Hurry up, brat."
There was not enough of a moon to see the muddy scowl on his face, but he still didn't let it linger long. His commanding officer had the uncanny ability to know what was going on around him, even if it was impossible to see one's hand in front of their face.
Several splashes only slightly louder than the gently slapping waves let him know the rest of their unit had made it. Despite the less-than stellar entrance, he had made it as well.
"*Ptoo!* This stuff is nasty…"
Careful to wipe his mouth before he smirked, he did not wish to make the same mistake as one of his less-fortunate comrade.
Zabuza's demon eyes seemed to glow under the abject darkness of the pier, cowing his subordinates into silence. They followed his lead, wading in with the murky tide.
"Is there someone there?"
They heard a voice ask in English, in an accent he didn't recognize. A soft metal click that he did recognize followed it. His hand unconsciously palmed one of his throwing knives, intuitively training on to the origin of the voice, aiming at the dark spot in between the slats overhead.
"S-state the password!" The voice hissed.
"Iwakuro Kikan."
The water wasn't cold, but they shivered underneath the casual malice of their commanding officer. The boards above them even seemed to issue an extra groan for the legendary swordsman, speaking before the man who stuttered a reply which was meaningless to them but apparently the right thing to say to keep Zabuza from turning the pier into matchsticks.
"I am Lt. Col. Muhammed Zaman Kiani."
The smartly-uniformed officer greeted them on shore, managing to compose himself in front of a dozen filthy and irate killers.
"Ugh! Does the whole city just dump their shit here or does it just smell like it?"
The Lt. Colonel declined to answer, either not understanding the colloquial Japanese or else fearing reprimand.
"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me…"
He pitied the Inuzuka, not only for this unenviable situation of having a sensitive nose in such an olid environment, but for being one of the few women on their squad. It must have been a bitter and ungratifying ordeal, to be allowed a frontline position against the bias of her gender, only to then be stuck with the castoffs and reprobates of the IJA. Salt in the wound, or in this case, feces.
"I apologize for having you enter into the city this way. But as you must have seen, the harbor is not safe right now. If all goes well with these talks, this problem should go away in the future."
Unperturbed by either smell and seemingly professional to a fault, Kiani fished out a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his trimly knit sweater and handed it to their NCO, who ironically had more clean patches on him than their entire group combine. Zabuza took it ungratefully and used it to wipe the speckles of mud from his face and forehead protector, tossing it on the ground contemptuously under the unruffled stare of the Indian Officer.
"I am afraid that I will still have to ask you to hurry. The Colonials are keeping regular patrols even here, as they are nervous about the Local Forces' trustworthiness to keep watch."
It was little wonder why, as their sole purpose there was to undermine British authority with the help of Indian Nationalists who had been in talks with the Imperial Government since before the war. Naruto resisted the urge to snark about this, but one of their group huddled up to his left didn't, and allowed him a wry chuckle.
"We will provide you with food and a change of clothes at our destination. Come, we have transport around the corner."
October 19th, 1942
Calcutta, India 0715 Hours
The ride in the back of a coopted military lorry had not been pleasant. Never minding the stench nor the bodies crammed up to one another like sardines, jostling one another with every bump along the cobblestone streets. They were shinobi, and as such detested being stuck in such a vulnerable position while being carted through enemy territory. A Military Police actually stopped their truck once. For one fleeting, tense moment during the driver's interrogation, they envisioned having to fight their way out of the heart of Allied lines under the full visibility of a hazy dawn.
But ironically, the smell emanating from the back discouraged the nosey MP from being all that thorough. A lucky break, or perhaps their contact had planned that from the beginning?
"Excuse me, Shinobi sir, are your people ready-ah…"
Now that they had been washed and fed the only thing left was to get dressed in the clothes considerately provided for them. Basic khaki drill and wool that was standard for all branches under her 'Majesty's' service. None in the pile fit him of course, the shorts hanging like hakama around his ankles and unflatteringly held up by a belt he had to poke extra holes in. Though considering he was now clean for the first time in weeks and was no longer breathing human waste, he supposed there was no reason to complain.
Besides, he was dressed. Unlike some people.
"What're you staring at?!"
A small parting of the lips was the only shock the Lieutenant Colonel allowed himself to show, even as he stared in incomprehension for the better part of thirty seconds.
"My man asked you a question." The shadow of Zabuza eclipsed Naruto from behind, but for once he was not scared.
"F-forgive me, I was unaware your group contained… females."
"Oh?" The lack of malice in that curious statement made it all the more frightening to those who knew him. "Where do you see women? The ones under my command are all shinobi. Each and every one is capable of gutting all one-hundred and fifty-two soldiers in this residence before you could even raise an alarm."
"Yes… of course." The Lt. Col. took this threat with more ease than he did the surprise of walking in on several men and women in the state of undress. "I merely meant that had we known, I would have been able to provide more… appropriate clothing."
"It gets the job done." The Inuzuka whom he only now remembered was called Hana (the irony not being lost that she still smelled anything but flowery), dismissed the concern, finally squeezing herself into one of the pullover shirts and tying the draping shirttails into a knot above her stomach. It was more flattering than the caking muck, at least. "Well? What're we waiting for? Let's fucking go meet these bigwigs."
"Inuzuka." She stopped mid-stride as did the rest of their motley crew upon the commanding tone of their senior officer. "You're on guard duty outside along with Mitarashi, Iwakuro, Hikari, Janaki and Kawabe. The rest are on 'personal protection' detail."
There was no grumbling from the battle-hardened shinobi, but a meek protest from Kiani.
"Excuse me, Lt.-uh-Zabuza, sir, but I really don't think the guards are necessary. This safehouse is one of our most secure, and forgive me for saying so, but even with the uniforms, I don't… think…that…"
The uptight officer sent to guide them had obviously not been thoroughly prepped for his job if he was take aback by the basic illusionary technique half the shinobi cast over themselves upon being handed their assignment. A half-dozen small pops and wisps of smoke filled the room before several unremarkable, dark faces took the place of their usual eccentric assortment. Those too disappearing not soon after in barely-visible blurs which ruffled the man's perfectly groomed mustache.
"Yes… well…" Bemused and searching for a new purpose, his eyes settled on Naruto as the youngest among them by a fair margin. But after looking him dead in the eye, he resolved not to do it again. "Shall we go meet Command?"
"-'Bout damn time."
June 1st, 1940
Road to Kunming, Yunnan, China 0900 Hours
"Heave!"
The roughly hewn timber budged but a little, the river not giving up its hold on it so easily.
"Come on, put your backs into it! Ichi! Ni!-
"SAN!"
The collective cried with as much desperation and heart as they put into their efforts. Numerous feet sinking into the mud, hemp ropes slipping against calloused palms and not a single hand without a splinter in it. Still, their toil proved fruitful when the twisted and fractured beam finally broke free and bodies scrambled to get out of its way lest it suck them downstream with the surging river.
"It's not break-time yet! We still have three more columns to replace before the bridge is done! We need to have it complete before supply train gets here! Those men fighting in the city need the ammunition!"
Only slightly more energetic than zombies, they made what haste they could with the knowledge that their thankless job was crucial for the campaign. And more importantly, for their allies entrenched just a few kilometers away under enemy fire.
It was for only that reason that he continued moving. The only reason he hadn't simply disappeared off the face of the earth as soon as he'd gotten the chance, the moment he realized that no one was coming for him. They might not care about him, but he never abandoned his comrades.
It was the enemy he had a hard time believing in.
Months had passed, a lifetime since and the image of that burning village still haunted him, the girl he couldn't save and the one who saved him. So he worked, to run, to try and undo the things he had done. To try and do something himself, something right for once.
After being discharged from guarding the prisoners by his fellow kun-shinobi, he had not gone back to camp. In fact, he hadn't left, even when she later bid farewell, marching the column of walking-dead into the sunset.
Just, stayed there. No one came for him. No one to tell him what his duty was next, he was free from that cycle he had been mired in for as long as he could remember.
So he walked. Aimlessly wandered, fighting only when someone made him. Killing only when necessary.
War was unavoidable, and it eventually caught up to him. The engineering corps ended up finding him in one village or another. Thinking him lame or dumb, but recognizing at least his military rank and taking him in as another body in an endemically-understaffed regiment. No questions were raised as he worked like a mule, repairing roads, mending wires, or in this case, building bridges. He didn't know what he was doing, but always did as commanded without complaint, and so none were ever leveled at him.
Until today.
"Alright! Good job men! Uzumaki, way to pull your weight!"
That comment only partly in jest got a few snickers from the soldiers around him, men twice his size slapping his back heartily and pinching his cheeks with affection. He didn't mind, it was all in good humor. Everyone there acknowledged that not only did he pull his own weight, but several other's as well. All this without the benefit of Chakra, which he silently vowed not to use lest he be found out and returned to the front.
He didn't have to worry about that now, though, as he absently ate his mess-tin filled with a meager portion of stewed meat which might have been chicken, vegetables probably stolen, and polished rice sans the ubiquitous Ume. A special treat awaited him whenever he was ready for it, a single ball of dango that one of the other soldiers had received in a package from his home.
It was such a precious thing that he wasn't even sure he wanted to eat it, just savor the idea until it turned to dust in his palm.
"Hey there!"
Maybe he ought to just scarf it down, for death was always near and regrets not worth entertaining. Even now he was seeing visions of a joyous afterlife where he might be reunited with everyone precious from his past.
It was drearily empty.
"Maa, you can't have forgotten about me already, right, Naruto-san?"
The few grains of rice stuck between his chopsticks stopped just short of his mouth as he looked up into the face eclipsing the early afternoon sun.
"Do I know you?"
"Ah! So rude!"
The spade descending onto his head was blocked by those same chopsticks, the flat surface shading his eyes just a bit more so he could make out a few more details.
"…Tenten?"
"Hey! You do remember!"
Shovel and animosity disappeared as the body plopped itself down next to him against the boulder overlooking their recently completed bridge.
"So where you been? Do anything exciting?"
Would she consider going AWOL exciting? Maybe, but he'd squandered that opportunity to fall in with the most underappreciated corps in the whole IJA because he didn't want to run, or rather, couldn't.
"Not really."
"Yeah right! You seem like the kind of guy to get into all kinds of adventures. I bet you're just holding out on me to spare my feelings, right? Well, no need for that, I'm off to make my own story!"
It would take another few moments in which he chewed his mouthful listlessly for the words to make any sense to him.
"…what?"
"I got transferred!" She jabbed a finger to her underdeveloped chest but with a cocky smile on her face that more than made up for it. "It's not exactly front-line, but the supply-corps has to go everywhere the fighting is, so I'm sure it's just a matter of time!"
She was right about that. War was all around them. It was spreading rapidly across the world, places he'd never even heard of six months ago suddenly declaring their hatred for him and his kind.
"Is that so…?" She never noticed the resignation behind his voice.
"Mm-hm! My family's actually originally from the Eastern Countries, so they said that I could lead my own squad of local troops because I know the language and they would listen to me more. Can you believe it? Me! A squad leader!"
No, he couldn't believe it. Something like that always came with a catch, and it was in the job description. The Kwangtung army was raised from KMT and Communist deserters who were still just as disillusioned now as before. Even less trustworthy now that they realized their place at the bottom of the pecking order in the IJA. A fact represented by putting a female child in charge of them.
Labels which meant nothing to their culture, but was a slap in the face to everyone on the outside from what he'd learned. It was a relationship doomed from the start, and one which might even cost her life if the men under her command decided the cause was no longer worth it.
Despite these dangers, he wasn't sure how he could break that uplifting smile. It was cowardice, it was selfish, but he wanted that smile to continue for himself, so he remained silent.
Joy like that never lasted long, anyway.
"Well, it's been great catching up- I still can't believe I'd find you way out here in the boondocks. I thought for sure someone like you'd be right there in the thick of it." She shaded a hand over her eyes as she stood up and looked out over the grassy plain. Staring at the columns of smoke rising in the distance, after a while issuing a heaving sigh that sounded like a building collapsing.
"But I really do need to be getting back to my unit. We're just stopping here briefly to restock you guys before we continue on to the front. Oh! That reminds me," Reaching a hand into the fold of her shirt, she rummaged around in her bosom as he stared on with blank interest.
"Here!"
Producing something the size of her palm and wrapped in rice-paper which had been mashed and wrinkled traveling against her chest. It was warm and squishy when he took it from her as well. Not knowing what else to make of it, he peeled back the abused wrapping.
"Mochi?"
"With red-bean!" She declared proudly. "Orders from the Emperor himself in recognition for the progress being made to pacify the continent."
None of that made it special, merely the fact that it had passed from her to him. But she hadn't known she'd find him here, so had she carried it around just in the off chance, or…
"This is yours." He realized.
"Nu-uh." She shook her head and lightly tapped him in the nose, making him blink in surprise at the gentle contact. "It's yours, now."
Reminded of another time in a life long ago when he hadn't said what he meant, he struggled to find the words to express his gratitude. Words of thanks, words to keep her there, and then to call her back.
"Tenten- wait!"
But the moment had already gone, her smiling face disappearing with a wave in the distance, like the others, never to return.
"…Wait…"
Clutching the precious sweet to his chest, he could no more stop the time from passing than he could his heart from beating. More alive, and more dead than he had been in what felt like centuries.
"Tokubetsu Jōtōhei Uzumaki Naruto."
That was his obituary being read to him. The war had finally caught up.
"You are hereby under arrest for desertion of your unit in the face of combat. You will come with us to receive your punishment. If you resist, we are authorized to use lethal force."
There were three of them, military police with their black armbands and metal forehead protectors just like his own which he kept hidden in the bottom of his ruck, unable to get rid of it. They were all at least, Heichō in rank and he knew that he wouldn't stand a chance of running, much less winning in a confrontation. Not that he wanted to, anyway.
They would probably execute him. Maybe then he could wait in the next life for Tenten and the others.
Assuming they ended up in the same place, that is.
October 19th, 1942
INA Safe House, Calcutta, India 0730 Hours
"Ah, here at last. Come in, come in."
It was rather lavish for a wartime office, at least compared to the ones they'd seen so far. The speaker was seated behind a fanciful desk of perfumed wood and flanked by colorful depictions of the many esoteric gods from this country.
Contrasting to this stereotypical image they had formed during their brief stay, the man himself looked little like any Indian they had seen. Lighter skin than most and lacking the swarthiness of his compatriots, replaced by an almost boyish softness only exacerbated by the perfectly round glasses perched on his nose.
And yet from the moment they entered the room Kiani, if possible, became even more tense and deferential, standing to the side of the doorway with an arm raised to an odd assortment of seats placed in front of the desk. Seats which most of them neglected as they filed in, opting to take up residence in the corners of the room and in the shadows of the large decorative plants.
Not Haku, though, who never left the side of their Gunsō. And not Naruto, who moved to follow the silent order of his allies, but was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. He did not complain, nor look Zabuza in the eyes as he lead him over to the seats.
"Hmph. Be glad we made it here at all. If it wasn't the border patrols tighter than a virgin's pussy, your filthy city would have done us in."
The man didn't waver in his impassive half-lidded stare, taking the crass language and insult with the patience of a saint.
"Mm. Then be glad we did not meet in Bombay. There, the stench alone from the Ganges is intolerable. Though I feel that if it took as little as that to bring you down, we should not even be having this discussion in the first place."
Going without his mask for the proceedings, Zabuza grunted in agreement with a small twitch of the lips.
"However," The man behind the desk leaned over deeply, staring at the lot of them all at once over the rims of his thick glasses. "I'm afraid that even the putrid stench of human waste is nothing compared to that of the invaders. For almost a hundred years the British have ruled over our country like masters over slaves, and even the soil itself is becoming toxic with their presence."
The shinobi were unimpressed by the heavy air the man had ushered in with his inflammatory words, used to such demagoguery in their own country, and all too familiar with the murderous intent.
"-Ah, but forgive me. We haven't been introduced. I am Subhas Chandra Bose, head of the Indian National Army and in charge of all its military decisions."
"Sargent Zabuza Momochi." Bose raised an eyebrow to the lack of introductions for his young bodyguards, but did not raise a fuss.
"Momochi-dono, is it?" The man bore his shark-like teeth in a grin, but said nothing in response to this overestimating his status. "Yes, Momochi-dono, I am glad you are here. I believe this is an opportune time for both our forces, you see. While in the beginning our movement was humble, starting with only the handful of soldiers your forces liberated in Malaya, with the recent victories by the IJA over the Chinas, Burma, Thailand, Singapore, public sentiment is finally starting to come over to us from the Nation Congress which has dominated the independence talks for so long.
"Doubtless you have been briefed on our situation, though I know not how much bargaining power your superiors have given you. Thus, I will give you the situation as it stands, such that you may assess what can be done."
Acquiescing with a terse nod, Bose opened his mouth to speak but paused to raise a finger to his man by the door instead, summoning a tea set which would come several minutes later and countless cups for all the lurkers in the room.
"Now then, as I said, we started with a strength of 45,000 expatriates when the IJA overtook Malaya, but now that strength has risen to at least 120,000, give or take. It is hard to be exact due to the clandestine nature of our organization. Without a doubt though, this number can be increased with but a little bit of your assistance. You see, the majority of our people wish for independence from the Colonials anyway, but disagree on the timing and the way to go about it. I myself was part of the National Congress when it first formed, but lost favor for my more ardent stance against British occupation and was imprisoned for a number of years as a result.
"The situation has changed from those dark days, however. War is a polarizing factor for any such internal conflict, and for a great while the majority continued to side with the pacifists because of their fear of the British overlords. But as mentioned, the once unmovable empire has now proven itself vulnerable to your unstoppable sword which promises to excise European rulers from the East.
"The majority of our people are still unaware of your kind, though, as they are unaware of our cause. I will concede this to the British, that they are as brilliant at propaganda warfare as they are the classical kind. They have managed to put a hush order on all such 'seditious' talk about ninja and independence, making it a court-marshal offense among their own ranks, and treasonous among the Indian Army."
"So, you want us to drum up a little fear in the hearts of these Westerners?" Zabuza asked with a smile that made even the imperturbable Indian officers in the room shudder, and the scalding hot tea turn icily cold.
"Essentially… yes." Bose conceded after a while, for the first time perhaps wary of what might be a literal deal with the devil. "Sewing the seeds of discord and chaos behind enemy lines has always been an effective tactic, and one I understand is familiar to your people. There is no denying that our population is massive, rumors will spread like the plague from the slums and shanties to the barracks and tents all along the border. The British themselves may lose heart if their leadership cannot guarantee their safety even behind their own lines."
"Sounds easy enough. Except…"
"I take that to mean that you have reservations?"
The swordsman snorted, knocking back the tea which had finally cooled enough for his liking and gagging at the amount of sugar and spices contained within. Naruto on the other hand enjoyed the spiked sweetness, but was put-off by the indiscriminate spray coming from his commander's mouth.
"Yeah, you could say that." Wiping the back of his mouth with his hand, he flicked a few whole cloves against the intricately woven carpet on the floor. "Sure, hit and run is well within our repertoire, and we may even get away with a few of them too. Your city is flooded with people, making it easy enough to slip away unnoticed afterwards.
"But what happens when they wise up, huh? Because believe me, they will. Upping their patrols and defense will only be the first part of it. Pretty soon they'll start cracking down on every little thing, hanging people for stealing a loaf of bread. How long do you think it'll take before some of your 'allies' get the pressure put on them to turn us in?"
"None of-"
"'None of our people would ever betray us, betray the cause'? Something like that?"
The sound of a chair scraping caused the trigger-happy guard to reach for the revolver holstered at his hip before he realized Zabuza was merely guffawing vulgarly. The man glared at this blatant disrespect, but lowered his hand from his firearm anyway. A half-dozen hands around the room had already produced knives with two already poised at his jugular, a third either at his femoral artery or a little higher.
"Sorry, bud, I just find your notion of loyalty funny. After all, aren't you guys betraying your own people by doing this?" Bose declined to answer, continuing to lean on his ritualistic desk with arms steepled and deathly black stare on their commander.
"It's not like I don't understand what you're going through, though. You see, the country I'm from had itself a little civil war, too. That's how I know what the Man's going to do, because I saw it happen with my own two eyes.
"Sons betraying fathers, brothers betraying brothers. Whole families split apart because of fear and because of some paltry sense of justice. Justice ain't what war's about. It's about death, nothing else. You seem like you have a pretty comfortable position here, and that just makes me suspicious. Because you see, where I come from, the only people unhappy in their comfy chair are the ones that want even more power. It's like a drug, the most potent kind. Me? I'm happy with my merry little band of misfits. We raise a little hell every now and then, eat, and then do it all over again. The only kind of power I care about is the kind I can use with my own two hands.
"So let me ask you: why do you want to get rid of Tommy? Their country raised yours from a shithole to- well, it's still a shithole, so I can only imagine what kind of backwards hell it might have become without their help. Yet you turn your backs on them, turn your backs on your own people, why shouldn't I believe that you'd turn your backs on us as soon as you get the chance?"
The only sound was the Indian National Army's leader breathing heavily in through his nose, visibly fuming with his pale face turning into an auburn blush and the smell of angry sweat wafting through the too-hot morning air.
Zabuza had been correct in everything he'd said, and they would have no problem slaughtering to a man every last person in that complex. Naruto himself had taken out almost an entire battleship with the element of surprise. But what then? They would be hunted, and probably the majority of them would be caught before they could reach the safety of the water. The Allies were getting wise to their kind, and taking new measures to detect their kind somehow using new electronic gadgets.
He'd also been correct about their goal. It was understandable that these people wanted to throw off the yoke of a foreign oppressor, but what then? And would it be worth it, if the goal was reached on a mountain of corpses? That'd always been their solution to things, but maybe because that's all they'd ever been taught.
"What if you just rejoined the National Congress?"
The thought was supposed to be silent and the room deep in conversation, but it turned out to be the opposite. Even the honking horns and sporadic puts of struggling motor vehicles outside on the already bustling streets seemed to fade away as his XO drilled him with two icy lumps of coal. Without a doubt, it was the wrong time to find his words. But after holding them in for so long, something inside of him broke and they came tumbling out, laid bare on that fancy desk for the scrutiny of the world.
"I mean, why not just tell everyone that you're going to stop fighting? What can they do? The British are still worried about the Imperial Army to the East, and I doubt they'd want to fight on two fronts. And even if it's only the men in your command giving up fighting, they can't lock all of you up, can they? They would need the rest of your people to go along with it. But they wouldn't turn on one another like that. I can't believe that they would."
The words were those born of naiveite, even in his ignorance to the world he could recognize that. But it didn't make them any less true, not in his eyes at least. And that stance was reflected in the azure blue eyes, resolutely staring past his NCO and into the glistening olive pits reflecting back at him unblinkingly. He knew what he suggested was insubordination at best, a death sentence for the lot of them at worst if their hosts decided to take this as a sign of weakness. But for a long time, he had all but welcomed death. Now, he simply didn't fear it.
But after a few tense minutes where his head remained staunchly on his shoulders, and his body unperforated, it seemed as if death had once gain overlooked him.
"Young man, you remind me of someone…" Naruto blinked, and even Zabuza turned his attention back to Bose who had returned to his natural shade. "Back in my early political days, there was a man whom I recognized as my rival. Although," Reminiscing fondly, there was a smile on his face despite the heavy atmosphere. ", I doubt he would ever acknowledge as much."
That statement reminded Naruto of someone he had competed against and declared rivalry with back in the Academy. He couldn't help but impose that image in his mind, older and with darker skin. He couldn't help it, even though it was probably not even a close description. That, and that boy he once knew was probably dead.
"You see, some people even believed him the reincarnation of Siddhartha Gautama, for he was imperturbable, immutable in his conviction for a peaceful way forward. He bore no grudges, and did not consider the position of leadership to be a contest. Some saw this as a façade, the tears of a crocodile. To those who truly knew him and not merely the legend he came to represent, they would know this was never possible. I can say that I competed against him with my own methods, but he was never playing. And in the end, all I can trust that my decisions are the right ones."
The wicker chair groaned in sympathy as he leaned back with a heavy sigh, glasses being removed so he could rub a weary hand over his face. There was no doubt he'd been up for the entire night as they had, but these last few minutes had all but sapped him of whatever youthful vigor he simulated.
"You see, this is why I desire your help." Still with foggy brown eyes gazing at the mudbrick ceiling, gnats buzzing silently around the yellow electric light. "I know that my way is correct, and it's not simply about proving him wrong. It's for the sake of my people that we must win. Perhaps in another world, such ideals might work, but I too have seen much history. Read the annals of our ancient civilization and even the legends do not spell a happy ending for those with these thoughts. The best fate is enlightenment, but I imagine that to be a very lonely existence."
"Maybe…" Naruto knew he'd said more than enough and anticipated the beating which awaited him when out of their potential ally's sight. That being said, one more wouldn't hurt. "Maybe you ought to get new legends?"
With that, the closest thing to a smile they'd seen appeared on Bose's face, and he'd replaced the wire-framed glasses on his nose to get a look at this strange young ninja traveling in the company of murderers.
"We'll be your legends." Before he could say anything, Zabuza's gruff voice cut in, his eyes fastened shut and brow furrowed under his crooked headband. It looked like he was in pain until that frozen gaze snapped open and another toothy grin spread wide across his face. "Aye, we'll be your bogymen."
"Good. Excellent." Bose nodded, seemingly not as happy as he had been at first with this agreement. "I have no doubt you'll do a professional job, and afterwards I will be sure to report your exceptional conduct to your superiors. We'll have you out of this backwater Theater and out East before they finish preparing for the invasion of the Americas."
With that he stood up, clearly eager to end things there for whatever reason. Either because he wanted to lock in the deal, or because he might have leaked a little bit more of his true feelings than intended. There lingered the possibility it could have all been an act, but somehow Naruto didn't think so.
"The Lt. Col. will show you to your quarters and around our base of operations." He gestured back to Kiari who looked equally relieved with the meeting being over. "All of our resources are at your disposal for this mission, and we can provide you with the gathered intelligence upon your request. Pease do not hesitate to ask for anything."
It took a while for him to realize what had happened after leaving the small office, mind geared on his military duties and compartmentalizing everything else during the interim between there and their new quarters.
In fact, it wasn't until the heavy fist cracked him upside the head that he finally caught up with his own words.
"Listen you little shit-stain," The ex-mist shinobi held him up by his blond hair which was now far past regulation-length, forcing his watery blue eyes to meet with those coldly smoldering lumps of coal. "don't you ever speak out of turn again. And if you contradict me? Well, there won't be much left of you for the MP's to bring to trial."
The threats had long since become a weird kind of normal, kind of like sleeping in mud and eating bugs and feeling someone's life flicker out with your bare hands. So he reflected back the elder ninja's gaze with an empty tranquility, impatiently waiting for the man to either make good on his threat or let him go. In a way, he wished for the prior, so he wouldn't be forced to go back to fighting once again.
"Good." If anything, that passive defiance was oddly pleasing to the mass-murdering swordsman, and there was a predatory smirk in the side of his mouth. "I like that look."
Then a foot shot into his stomach, slamming him against the wall with an audible crack. Peeling off the shattered mudbrick and onto the floor, he doubled over for air and watched the gigantic tabi-boots walk off soundlessly. He continued choking for breath until a soft hand came to rest lightly on his back, a warmth flowing through it and inflating his lungs just enough that he could do the rest.
"There, it's going to be alright."
"No-" He gasped. "No, It's not. Things are-" Sucking in another desperate breath. "-never going to be alright. Bastard!" A wracking cough overtook him and he hacked up a gob of iron-tasting mucus into his mouth, spitting the bloody wad in the direction his commanding officer walked off.
"Are you alright?"
"No." He shook his head dismally.
"But you will be."
His body would heal, there was never any question of that. Within a few hours, that miraculous healing factor would make the bruise disappear, and the only sign of any violence left in the human-shaped scar on the wall and size 29 boot-print on his chest.
But would he be alright? He tried to be, ever since he was spared the rope and given another shot several months ago. Tried to be the cheerful self he remembered from childhood because he knew no one else would. Tenten wasn't around, that was for sure. He carried on for her, not knowing if she was alive or dead but guessing the latter. Everyone around him died sooner or later. There was justice at least in that.
"You're going to be alright, Naruto." Haku reiterated, lifting his chin with his impossibly soft finger, calluses confined to the small grooves between joints. "Things will turn out fine. You'll see."
"Naruto, look at me." He stopped averting his eyes, allowing the equally soft gaze to caress his wounded spirit. "For now we must fight. I understand how hard this is on you, and do not believe for a second that it isn't for any one of us. Some merely pretend, keep a straight face on for the rest. Some like Zabuza-sama thrive in the season of death, but dread life for fear that they will melt under the light of the sun.
"You must wait for that sun, Naruto-kun. Peace constantly comes, seasons forever change, and snows will always melt."
When that time came, though, would his heart still be left unfrozen?
So lots of info packed into this one, but nothing a short jaunt to Wiki won't illuminate. No OC's (per se), all names mentioned here are actually real people, just might have changed their job descriptions somewhat.
Because yeah, shinobi are still going to be tough a sneaky, and in a modern city as chaotic as Calcutta or Bombay? Shit, they'd just disappear with the greatest of ease. So the Allies are beginning to work on 'devices' to detect shinobi. This isn't out of the realm of possibility, as the UK was one of the- if not THE leader in Radar back in WWII. Not to mention project ULTRA, Bletchy Park, etc. Lots of hush-hush science stuff was done in direct relation to the war effort. So this is just an invention of mine to level the playing field.
Siddhartha Gautama was the first Buddha, and a mochi-cake for anyone who know who Bose is talking about. No, it's not a character, but a real person. Debating about whether or not I'll have him show up in this, might be neat, but a little presumptuous. Meh, I'm probably going to hell anyway…
And Japan is prepping for a Western invasion?! Will North America fall under the might of the Shinobi, or have they awakened a sleeping dragon?