Genma scrambled into the shinobi bar drenched in copious amounts of sweat. Still panting slightly. Back itching of what he suspected might be crusted blood no amount of half hearted scrubbing had been able to get off etched to his upper back. He shook out the gravel from his sandals, chewing harder on his senbon, and resigned himself to having Raido get it off for him later.
There was no time to clean up properly. Ebisu was apparently the only one stationed close enough to the Hokage to overhear some of the details of what had happened in Kumo.
And things had happened in Kumo. His lightening rongi was shit, but even he could understand the frantic shouting between the Kumo-nin he had been spying on. He chuckled lowly to himself, chewing on his senbon, apparently, Konoha was at fault. Served Kumo right.
Though his curiosity for the proper details was overwhelming.
The building was only barely bright enough to see in. Shinobi enjoyed the dark, made for easy concealement. The place was bit run-down but homey. Large entrances and easy access and escape routes perfectly catered to the shinobi population. Though the cheap alcohol was its greatest asset. Alcohol he could use around now, he acknowledged with a wince at his strangely strained body.
Genma stepped onto the creaking wooden boards of the building, casting an intense gaze for the rest of his generation of jounin. His back was still bleeding from a chunnin's lucky strike. He had made sure to senbon him through the eyes for revenge.
"Hatake Kakashi has assassinated the Third Raikage," Ebisu hollered out in a voice that thoroughly conveyed his satisfaction with the attention being directed at him. The bar erupted into a mixture of awe, praise, and shock. Half-drunk shinobi exploding into loud conversation and debate. Genma just nodded, he'd suspected as much. Perhaps not the death of the fucking Third Raikage, but White Wolf in rongi was easy enough to decipher.
Genma couldn't help the mixture of fear and compassion he felt at the thought of his errant acquaintance. He had always admired Hatake Kakashi. Had even had a sparring match with him once. His shoulder ached at the memory.
The man being used as a literal attack dog (or was a wolf more fitting a metaphor) had never sat well with him. Though he understood the necessity. His ANBU guards were messed with too viciously to convey anything other than absolute hatred. They'd lost the man's allegiance. And letting an S-rank ninja bearing a grudge go free was just suicidal.
His imprisonment within the Hatake forest was rumored to include a training regime that would have killed a lesser ninja. But waltzing into Kumo and taking out their Raikage was no joke. Not at all. Even if said Raikage had weakened in his age, his escapades during the Third Shinobi War having taken its toll. The man was still a veritable monster of a ninja. Genma couldn't help but shiver, a bit of nausea weighing him down.
An affronted shout came from his left. He immediately redirected his focus back to the conversation taking place across the room. Kurenai's eerie red eyes widened in surprise. Her cold voice quivered slightly before it hardened into a seething tone. "I have heard of the Hyuuga's increased brokering for his release. Gratitude then?"
The woman narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. Glancing not too subtly at the closest Hyuuga. The Hyuuga clan member simply glared back at her harshly. The hair falling into his eyes doing a poor job of obscuring the active Byakugan. Asuma's hackles rising was an obvious sight, the burly man's ever present cigar broke and fell off. Ash adorning the muddy floor.
Genma decided to cease his statue act. Before Asuma decided to mess with those of higher status and get them all in trouble. He braced himself against the door's entrance with a clenched hand and attempted to hobble his way over to the still gossiping group. The whole bar was too quiet for Gai to be present, he would have to inform the man of his "eternal rival's" actions at home.
"They had to use the seals placed upon him in order to subdue him. Even then they just barely succeeded. He tried to make contact with Orochimaru."
Was it his imagination, or had the entire bar gone silent?
He sat down clumsily. His back aching. And was greeted with a few mumbled hello's, the atmosphere too tense for much else.
"Why would he try to go to Orochimaru?" he murmured lowly. Genma hadn't been aware of any close relationship between the two, then again, rare were the people who ever got close enough to the legends of the village to know much of anything. Beyond the regular rumors of course. Though Genma had a hard time putting any stock in them.
He chewed a bit harder at the thought of Orochimaru. The man was a power playing piece of trash.
He shifted in his place, trying to get comfortable, the harsh wooden seating dug into the skin on his back. Asuma nudged him slightly, seated to his right, and gave him a friendly one armed hug, they hadn't seen each other in a while. He winked and smirked back at the man.
Ebisu raised his head high, nose in the air with pompous satisfaction. He was a friend, Genma acknowledged, but woe be the times the man had any extended attention directed toward him. "Well, I have heard, that Orochimaru and the White Fang were close. Orochimaru even has some Hatake tattoos! I suppose a familial relationship then. Trash attracts trash, after all."
Genma simply snorted at his friend. Making eye contact with Kurenai, who harrumphed and rolled her eyes in response. He scuffed his sandals against the floor, deciding to get some alcohol to dull the pain. The light sting of a senbon had a darkly frowning Aoba yelping out of the way.
He managed three wobbling steps before the building exploded.
Every single ninja had vacated the premises within the first seconds of the blast. Their guards were meant to be down within the confines of their village. But they were ninja, their guards were never that lowered. Jounin left completely unharmed. But quickly glancing around at the nearby roof they had all arrived to, a couple gennin and one chuunin were hurt. Nothing they couldn't recover from, he ascertained with a quick snicker at a blushing kid. Scarred face shamed at having been immobilized so easily. Umino Iruka was it?
Accidents like this weren't unusual. Some idiot asshole had probably been showing off an offensive jutsu they hadn't completely mastered yet. Genma changed his senbon's positioning. He had liked that bar.
He could hear yelling from downstairs. Guessing that to be the culprit being rightfully berated, he quickly flickered to the ground.
He really, really, hadn't been expecting the jinchuuriki.
The kid was covered in blood that was decidedly not his own, looking to have been thrown into the dirt by some hot-headed brawny genin. He was surrounded by shinobi questioning him in an overly hostile manner.
The jinchuuriki's frightened expression was belied by determination. The five-year old kid was holding high-grade explosion tags in his arms. (How in the actual hells had he gotten his hands on those?) Genma could feel his already exhausted mind throbbing, a small imperceptible shake in his body. He was really hoping this runt just hadn't known what he was doing, not actually making a poor murder attempt at a whole bar of shinobi. (Or murdered someone before making his way here, fucking hells.)
The shinobi gathered around went collectively silent at the jinchuuriki's sudden shaking, the kid was tearing at his own hair.
"So sorry, sofu. I tried y'know but it didn't work. One of them is bleeding bad. Can you tell me about Nii- Ah, not enough, not enough?" The kid was whimpering now, still clutching at his bright blonde head. Tears now spilling out at the thought of having displeased his- sofu?
Genma could swear he shat himself in that moment of realization. His senbon broke and clattered to the ground. The noise was too loud.
He was the highest ranking ninja within the nearest vicinity, it was a daunting realization. He couldn't help but groan internally at the shit fest an influenced jinchuuriki was going to bring. Maybe Yorino had a point, increased ranking was such a drag.
He jostled his brown hair, sweat having plastered it to his scalp. Quickly switching out his destroyed senbon for a newer one. Best get started then. He tried to quell the shaking (why was he shaking?)
He signed for all thirty-six of the present ninja to leave the area. Casually firing a senbon at a harshly protesting Asuma. Ordering one of them to call on the Hokage. And the Hokage to order the Toad Sage back with due haste.
The kid was looking at him. He was a really cute kid even drenched in blood as he was, too bad the sight of him so close made him twitch for his kunai. The kid's chakra was vile. It was only a waiting game he reassured himself, the Hokage would be here within minutes.
The kid smiled at him, a bright, familiar smile that made his stomach turn.
"Ne, Jii-san. Sofu says you're real stupid." the kid's voice was double toned. A lower, growling voice hiding behind the squeaky one of a five-year old child. He had never heard anything so messed up.
Kami damn it, one sentence from a child should not be so intimidating. He faced jounin for a living.
He dredged up an amused smile. No use in showing weakness, weakness could be exploited.
"I see, how come?" he managed to mutter out. Eyes rapidly glancing around for the Hokage. He really wasn't feeling too well. Was his wound bleeding more?
The kid started up again. And was it really necessary to carry out a conversation here? The kid was that man's, so he couldn't be stupid. The jinchuuriki most probably realized the situation he was in.
"Sofu says you're an even lower grade of vermin, to be a poisons expert and not have realized that you've been poisoned. We'll enjoy watching you die!" and the kid lifted his arms to the back of his head. Looking horrifyingly cheery at the prospect. His eyes flickered red. Prompting Genma to take a tall step back.
Genma felt like punching himself into Iwa. He'd been overconfident. In too much of a hurry to get back into the village. Though to be fair to himself (and he did enjoy being fair to himself) it was a very subtle poison. He could even identify the exact kind, blasted Kumo-nin.
He tried to be angry over the situation. Scared of how twisted the child's mind must have already become, to have that monster shouting things for him to do. (To have murdered someone, he stank of bloodbloodblood.) But he mostly felt a weary sadness. Amplified by the thought of the kid having been fooled into thinking it was his grandfather, he didn't even want to pursue that line of thought any further. Where was the kid's ANBU watch? How had they not noticed him being influenced? He snorted, this reeked of conspiracy. The kid just kept staring and smiling. He tried to keep steady against a wave of nausea and dizziness.
The Hokage finally flickered in, a veritable army of ANBU surrounding him. He felt confident enough in the hospital's medic-nin to figure out that he'd been poisoned, it wouldn't be the first time.
And with that, he emitted a deep sigh, and resigned himself to unconsciousness.
He was too old for this, Hiruzen realized. Too old to be Hokage. Too tired, wrung out like a well-used dish-rag.
He took a deep breath, feeling the air rattle his scarred lungs. The pain had been getting more insistent lately. He dragged a worn hand over his bloodshot eyes. It may be time to recall Tsunade once again to check on the wound.
He would be proud of Kakashi. For taking the white chakra kekkei genkai to such new heights. If only he hadn't been the victim of it. Tsunade claimed only white chakra was capable of frying the chakra network so irrevocably.
"Hokage-sama?" one of his loyal ANBU hesitantly questioned. Monkey-faced visage quivering with impatience.
He would move, Hiruzen decided. He would move as soon as he felt ready to face an adopted grandson under the influence of a monster. Yet another failing. They did not meet as often as he would like, but this seemed quite the thing to miss. What had lead to Naru-chan making contact, in spite of his many warnings? It was the only option, that monstrous creature wasn't capable of doing so itself.
He sighed heavily once more, body aching, slipping on his battle armor. The child was a cheery, bright one. So utterly kind. He liked to think that Minato and Kushina would have loved raising him. And he could have been the child's lazy, retired grandfather. He raised his bo-staff. And flickered away.
He hoped not to have to kill the child. They didn't have another container prepared. Nor was Jiraiya-kun in the village yet. Though he was most likely racing back at this point. Galloping away on his toad.
One of his jounin collapsed the second they appeared outside of the crumbled, still scorching building. A concerning sight. An ANBU quickly picked him up and away. Flickering to the hospital.
The child was simply standing there. Now staring at the high-grade explosive tags within his blood-drenched grasp with a thoughtful frown. Hiruzen decided to quickly nip that in the bud. Moving closer in a second, tearing the tags away and incinerating them immediately. The action only earned him a heart-wrenchingly normal pout.
His thoughts were already racing with sealing procedures and the semi-recent report of a new memory blocking technique, courtesy of a particularly talented Yamanaka. They would have to implement actions immediately. ROOT had some of the best holding cells, no matter how hesitant he felt over putting the child so close to a location Kakashi was occasionally held at.
"Sofu says he really looks forward to seeing you die. Even though he probably won't get to do it himself. Your screams will be really nice to hear, so we're hoping it's painful!" The child's eyes flickered red and stayed that way. Strange growling voice growing in tenor.
He knocked the child out with ease. Gently cradling his bloodied body in his arms. He fiercely wished, not for the first time, that things were different.
Naruto did not see the light of day for six months.