X
By ZAFO
A/N: Apologies for the long absence; I got lost on the path of life! Between general angst, a new job, a new language, and a new city, and it was hard to find my feet again in fanfics… but rest assured, none of them are abandoned; just slow in the making.
—
Rolling green hills and clear blue skies greeted Gaara as he came to. He blinked, slowly taking in his distressingly peaceful surroundings, then gingerly touched a hand to the back of his head.
It was dry.
So that was it.
An immediate sense of foreboding washed over him.
So that was really, really it.
Gaara hadn't felt fear—real fear—in years, not since the death of Yashamaru. But this newfound environment, along with the aching awareness that someone had actually killed him, made him feel such an unfamiliar sense of trepidation that he wanted to throw up.
And so throw up he did.
Crawling on his hands and knees, Gaara dragged himself over to a nearby flowerbed and retched, the acidity of his meager stomach contents burning as they passed through his throat. Eyes squeezed shut, he remained crouching at the newly-made nest of vomit and flora for what seemed like hours—trembling, unsure of what to do or where to go or what was next...
When Gaara opened his eyes again, his tumultuous dread was at an all-time high. The skies above him began to shift. No longer blue, they were darkening at an alarming rate—the colors mixing into a grim and muddled canvas spattered with thunder.
To his ongoing horror, the landscape around him began to morph as well, and so Gaara ran.
He ran through the dark thickets of vines that scratched at his face; he ran through the forests and hills infested with eyes glowing red. He ran and he ran and he ran, seemingly no end to his journey.
—
They had witnessed the fight on the tower's rudimentary television screens, wholly unconcerned with Gaara's viciousness. Draped over a waiting room couch, Temari had merely picked at the dirt under her nails as she watched, while Kankuro sat cross-legged on the floor tending to his many puppets.
As the minutes ticked by, however, and the hidden cameras captured Gaara's increasingly erratic behaviour, the Sand sibling's attentions had become increasingly conscientious in turn.
Something was off. Something was wrong.
Gaara was a psychopath, sure—and menacing as hell to boot—but rarely was he ever riled up enough to bark at someone like rounin with a vendetta.
Despite their precarious history—and despite the utter terror they felt whenever the jinchuriki was in close proximity—Temari screamed when the chakra-infused kunai shot into the back of his skull.
It wasn't just because Gaara was integral to the invasion. No. Somewhere, deep down, Gaara no Sabaku was still her little brother. In another lifetime, she knew, if the Shukaku had not been sealed inside him, he would not have grown up nearly so hateful...
It was under the reasoning of the invasion, however, that she had bolted immediately out of the room to find Baki, screaming at him to recover her brother and bring him back, bring him back, bring him back—before all their plans went to ruin.
It was a combination of the fact that they had already succeeded, along with Kankuro's venomous threats of diplomatic ruination, that had allowed the foreigners to retrieve the jinchurriki as well as secure Kohnoha's best medics for him.
Hours and hours had passed. Nearly the entirety of their mission hinged now on the survival of her little brother. The medics had done the best that they could, and miraculously, the assassin in the trees had just barely missed the most critical parts of his brain…
Baki said that it was likely Shukaku keeping him alive. The demon's healing abilities were probably going into overdrive now trying to stabilize his vitals, so Temari believed—Temari hoped—that Gaara would wake up.
He had to wake up.
—
Hinata and Shino often admonished him for his so-called "audacity," but the Chuunin exams were no place to be "nice" or "honorable."
What exactly was there to be nice about? They were literally in a hellhole dubbed the "Forest of Death." Did they want their promotions or not?
Kiba bared his teeth.
"Stop that." Shino hissed sternly. "Kiba, have patience. We will acquire a scroll eventually."
"When? When?!" He cried. "I smell them! They're up ahead! Why are you two so afraid to attack?!"
Hinata stuttered.
"B-because they're—"
"—they're what?!" Snarled Kiba. "They're from Konoha? So what! For God's sake, this is the Chuunin exams! You think the Uchiha bastard woudn't turn face and attack us too if he had a shot?!"
Hinata began to cry softly, dabbing at her pupil-less white eyes with a torn jacket sleeve. Kiba ranted on, undeterred.
"You guys act like we're committing treason! Well we're not! All I want is for us to get a damn Earth scroll and pass—and make Kurenai-sensei proud!"
Shino sighed. His shoulders sagged a bit as he spoke.
"That… that is what I want as well."
"Then it's settled!" Kiba declared fiercely, ignoring Hinata's hiccups of protest. "Team 7 is going down."
—
It had been a day or so since the disasterous debacle that was their last stand, and their chances of passing the Chuunin exams were growing bleaker by the second.
Not that Sasuke cared, anymore. Sure, a promotion would have been welcome—but at the moment, Sasuke was just grateful that they escaped everything alive. His hands were still broken, his chakra was still blocked, and overall, he was still in stunningly bad shape—but he was alive. That must have counted for something.
Sasuke's mood was contemplative as he bit into his roast fish. The fire that he himself spit out burned brightly, red-orange flames rising from the timbers and licking softly at Sakura's catch. Beside her, a battered Naruto Uzumaki sat chomping on his portion of dinner quietly. Between bites, the jinchuuriki seemed pensive as well, gazing blankly into the glow of the fire.
Sasuke couldn't help but stare. It wasn't long until Naruto looked up, and their eyes finally met.
Something was off. Something was wrong.
He couldn't explain it, but Naruto here was just wrong.
This Naruto, who sat between he and Sakura too calmly. This Naruto who peered at him with too-wide eyes, and this Naruto whose cackle was half-way deranged and just a pitch too high…
Sasuke shivered.
Orochimaru had stolen that grass-nin's face. Things like that were wholly possible now.
So this Naruto could have been an imposter, too.
On the other end of his gaze, Bumi took a deep breath, sensing that this boy somehow knew. As the hours passed, Bumi had realized that this was not the afterlife (probably) and that he was somehow in the wrong body. Whose it was, he didn't know, but at the moment, Bumi very much felt like an unwelcome intruder in a game whose rules he never learned.
Spirit world shenanigans, he supposed.
"Your hands…" Bumi started awkwardly. "They must hurt."
Sasuke glanced down absentmindedly. The makeshift bandages that Sakura had torn from her dress—and wrapped lovingly around them—were dark with blood and filth.
"Yeah." He answered softly.
Sakura watched them both cautiously, vivid green eyes tinged with the beginnings of paranoia. The battle with Gaara had left her slightly on edge, as well as guilty with the weight of her first kill. Having, for some reason, never thought that death would come at her own hands—her world had been left shaken.
Being a shinobi was brutal, she knew, she just never expected how much...
Bumi broke his gaze first, turning his attentions back to the fire. He opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated, before glancing at them again with an odd glint in his eyes.
"Firebending comes in handy, doesn't it? We got a nice dinner outta all this."
Sasuke swallowed.
"That word you just used…"
"Which one?"
"Firebending. Gaara used it too."
Bumi tilted his head, his expression unreadable. His voice was nonchalant.
"…that poor red-headed lad with the knife in his head?"
Sakura visibly winced
"You…" Sasuke sputtered. His face wrenched into a fearful and bitter expression. Hands useless, smoke began to billow out from his nostrils; fire began to fester in his mouth. "You're not Naruto! Naruto—Naruto doesn't talk like that! I know him—I know him!"
Sasuke lunged forth in desperation—broken hands be damned—and Sakura scrambled away as the flames burst from his jaws.
He wasn't angry.
No… he was scared.
He was scared to death, and he was trying his best to protect the friend he had left.
Bumi recognized his intentions clearly. Not wanting to hurt the boy, Omashu's former king merely dodged before clenching his fists together, willing a cocoon of earth to encase him.
The action startled Sasuke enough to offset his attack. For good measure, Bumi encased Sakura as well.
Then he spoke.
"I'm sorry." Bumi began. "I have no idea what's going on here, but I'm not going to hurt you."
"Where's Naruto?" Sakura asked fearfully, wide-eyed at the strange imitation of her teammate. "What did you do to him?"
"I don't know." He confessed. Bumi looked down at his small, calloused hands, turning over the new young flesh sadly. "I know that this isn't my body; I should be an old man. I woke up like this… and I don't know why."
"That's a lie!" Sasuke exclaimed, unwlling to believe such ignorance. "How could you not know how you ended up in someone else's body? You—you killed him, didn't you! When we weren't watching…"
Sakura spoke softly.
"But how, Sasuke? Naruto never left our sight…"
"I don't know!" He said heatedly. "But—but Naruto's gone, and instead we have this thing—"
"—my name is Bumi." The king interrupted. His normally mirthful eyes looked troubled. "I'm sorry. But I didn't kill anyone… I don't know how I could have. I died in my sleep, and I've never met you kids before."
Both genin paled at this admission. Bumi's apology was blunt, but sincere, and so far out of left field that they didn't know how to react.
The king's expression turned wistful.
"Aang always said that the spirit world was peaceful." Bumi mused. "But this place has been anything but..."
"The spirit world…?" Sasuke asked slowly.
Sasuke rarely ever thought about heaven or hell—but when he did, it was in simple terms.
Like how that man was going to hell, whenever he killed him. Like how his family must be in heaven, for all that they had suffered…
The Uchiha shut his eyes, haunted by the whispers of a long-supressed memory.
"That's why I have a feeling that this isn't the spirit world." Bumi said quietly, releasing Sakura and Sasuke from their bonds.
The soil fell away from their bodies gently, but the king kept his distance.
"It must have been hard, whatever you two have been through. You're both in bad shape."
Sakura began to hiccup then, rubbing at her eyes fiercely. Just a couple days ago, she would have sobbed outright, but they had already been through so much—and she had promised herself, somewhere along the way, that she was going to be stronger for them all.
Sasuke and Naruto couldn't save her all the time.
For Sasuke, Bumi had left some earth surrounding his hands, solidified into makeshift casts. The Uchiha stared at the gesture in silence, not knowing what to think anymore. He looked up.
The intruder in his best friend's body gazed at him still with that strange, mournful expression. Sasuke's eyes began to sting.
Pretending not to see the beginnings of their shared breakdown, Bumi toddled back to the fire, moving in a way reminiscent of the age he claimed to be. He plopped down the ground, cross-legged, and stared at nothing as he spoke to them gently.
"You two are of Fire Nation descent?"
"Fire Nation…?" Sakura asked softly.
At this, Bumi made eye contact, and arched a brow animatedly.
"Firebender." He repeated, gesturing at Sasuke. "Though the forests here look like King Kuei's land…"
"Explain that." Sasuke interrupted. He walked slowly to Bumi's side and sat down—cautious—but open to what the old man had to say. Sakura followed his lead, neatly tucking her legs in as she took a seat.
"Explain what?"
"That word. Firebender. And King Kuei."
Bumi blinked.
Spirit world shenanigans, indeed.
Bumi may have not been in the afterlife anymore, but some spirit must have meddled with the cosmos enough to have landed him in such a mess…
"Firebenders are those who can manipulate the element of fire." He explained. "They hail from the Fire Nation, which is one of four. The other three call themselves the Earth Kingdom, the Water Tribe, and the Air Nomads. King Kuei is the ruler of the Earth Kingdom."
'And I am the ruler of a kingdom within it.' He added silently.
"Sounds like a fairytale." Sakura murmured.
"I can promise you it's not." Bumi chuckled. "I've lived it."
Sasuke looked thoughtful.
"So you're an 'earthbender?'" He asked. "Because of the element you can manipulate?"
"That's right."
"But that doesn't make any sense." Sakura said. "These nations… they don't exist! This is crazy… this is…"
'Like a fairytale.' She thought again.
By her side, Sasuke thought along the same lines, though situation was so bizarre that even he held his tongue.
"I don't claim to know everything about the universe," Bumi said quietly "but I do know that I'm not supposed to be here. I died… so I don't want to stay."
Sakura and Sasuke's eyes widened, surprised at the stranger's revelation.
"You… you don't want to live?" Sakura asked hesistantly.
"I've already lived." Bumi corrected her gently. "But your friend has not. You're all so young… you have so much life left ahead of you."
The king brightened then, grinning as he said the next bit playfully:
"As long as you keep an open mind and an open heart, I promise that you will both find your own destiny someday."
Sasuke felt something longing and painful stab through his heart. For a moment, his thoughts misted over. It was as if he were enveloped in a dream… and within that dream, there was an old man.
That old man smiled at him warmly, and wagged a finger at him in light-hearted admonishment.
("You know, Prince Zuko, destiny is a funny thing. You never know how things are going to work out. But if you keep an open mind and an open heart, I promise you will find your own destiny someday.")
"Prince Zuko…" Sasuke murmured. "…that name again."
"Prince Zuko?" Bumi chimed curiously. "Oh-ho. So you do know of him."
—
Jet moaned, his throbbing head almost unbearably painful as he shifted about the small hospital bed. Groggily, he willed himself to crack his eyes open, and was greeted with a fuzzy—though femininely shaped—figure sitting vigil by his bedside.
He asked for the first thing that he wanted to see.
"Katara?" He asked softly.
His vision cleared, and a confused Temari no Sabaku came to view.
—
A/N: Please review! Updates will hopefully come faster now :)