Warning: I have done by best to edit out foul language from this fanfic, but I cannot legitimately include this character without it, I think you know who I mean. I've bent canon a bit to include him, but he is essential to the plot as a whole, so you'll have to grin and bear the language.

Chapter 7: Eyes of Lavender, Heart of Gold.

Jiraiya looked down from the spectator's balcony at the arena below. The sage had lost count of the bouts that had gone on since Nagato's defeat of the Kazekage's successor, his great mind was too preoccupied with concern for his wounded pupil. Hanzo had had a veritable army of Medical ninja see to both of the combatants the very moment the match was over, and all the reports looked positive. Broken bones, however many, were a walk in the park for Amegakure's medics, and for that Jiraiya was perpetually offering praise to the powers that be. The rest of his dual squad of students were pressed close to the window, taking in every detail of the battles raging below them, soaking up anything they could about their fellow competitors' fighting styles and weaknesses, should they have to face them in the next round.

'Your pupils seem to relish the fight ahead of them.' Came a calm voice next to Jiraiya. The sage looked to his left to see a tall boy of maybe seventeen, bearing a leaf headband below a mane of silver-white hair. The boy's eyes did not meet Jiraiya's, but stared out of the window absently. Jiraiya recognised that look, it was the gaze of one who was still in the aftermath of grief.

'You're Sakumo Hatake aren't you?' asked the Sanin inquisitively, yet carefully, 'The White Fang of the Leaf?' The boy nodded once, a thin wisp of a smile at the edge of his mouth. Now Jiraiya understood why the boy was so melancholic. 'I was sorry to hear about your sensei, he was a good man, my condolences.' Sakumo nodded again, meeting Jiraiya's eyes for the first time.

'Ginrei-sensei died as he lived, like a true warrior. I hope to live up to his example.' Came the melancholic voice again. Jiraiya raised his eyebrows at the comment.

'What? By dying like a hero?' he asked.

'No, by living like one, Lord Jiraiya.' Came the reply. Jiraiya nodded in admiration of the boy's spirit and took his gaze back to his own pupils, who were gathered around Yahiko as he gave a blow-by-blow colour commentary of the battle going on below.

'As I was saying, your pupils relish the fight before them. I don't know whether to be enthusiastic or afraid of it myself.' Came Sakumo's tired voice. Jiraiya laid a hand on the boy's shoulder and looked him in the eye, as he always did when offering moral support.

'In his life, Ginrei always spoke highly of you and your abilities. He was incredibly proud of his 'White Fang,' as is everybody in the Leaf who was heard your name. You have nothing to fear from this exam...Except my students of course.' Always strive to finish moral speeches with humour, that was a rule Jiraiya lived by, and it had always worked wonders on those he was speaking to. This was no exception: Sakumo genuinely smiled for the first time, but he didn't really get time to offer his thanks when the PA system cut him off, announcing the contestants for the next round. Jiraiya wasn't really listening, just vaguely listening out for any of the five remaining students under his tutelage. None of them were announced, but the look on Sakumo's face told another story.

'I must go, Lord Jiraiya, one of my squadmates is about to compete, thank you for your support.' And with a low bow, the Leaf's white fang disappeared into the crowd. The Sanin strolled over to the window to where his students were standing, placing bets on the victor of the next round.

'5 silver coins on the guy from the Hidden cloud' shouted Yahiko, pointing down at the dark-skinned ninja on the far side of the arena. The same one who he and Nagato had seen looking at them in the lift. The boy couldn't be more than ten years old at the most, with short, buzz-cut white hair and aviators. Across his back hung three or four short daggers. He looked quite a spectacle, even though he barely came up to Yahiko's shoulder.

'I'll take that bet.' Replied Minato, eager to patriotically defend the girl from the hidden leaf who stood on the near side to the viewing balcony. She had shoulder-length dark hair and eyes to match, which perfectly complimented her modest curves. Jiraiya chucked inwardly as he wondered whether it was patriotism or hormones making his star pupil take the woman's side. So hot was the debate between those assembled that none of them noticed Hanzo's announcement for the bout to begin...until it was all of three seconds too late.

'THE WINNER OF THE BOUT IS 'KILLER B' OF THE HIDDEN CLOUD!' roared Hanzo's amplified voice from his refereeing position.

'What!' came the synchronised reply of Jiraiya and everyone within the packed balcony. Nobody could believe their eyes, but there was the evidence. The match had lasted precisely 2.7 seconds, the woman from the leaf was sprawled on her back, clearly unconscious and sporting several major cuts across her upper-body. The pre-adolescent boy from Kumogakure was standing next to her unconscious form, arms raised, proclaiming his victory to the heavens.

'YOU CAN FLY LIKE A BUTTERLY, BUT NOBODY STINGS LIKE 'KILLER B'! FOOLS! YOU CAN SEE, THE VICTOR IS ME! NOBODY EVER BEATS THE HACHIBI JINCHUURIKI!'

'Well, at least he fights better than he raps.' Muttered Minato, while handing over the coins to Yahiko, who pocketed his spoils of war almost hungrily. The room was a wash of excited chatter, how had the kid managed to win so fast? What technique did he use, and did anybody see it? Questions in the same vein launched themselves around the room. But Jiraiya was far more preoccupied with the victory speech of the boy in question. He was a Jinchuuriki? And not just any, but the host of the Eight Tails? The bar had just been raised dramatically.

Down in the arena, the boy called Killer B had hoisted his opponent up in a fireman's lift and carried her inside the building. Yahiko recalled the admiration he had seen in the boy's eyes in the lift; a gentleman as well as a warrior evidently, the perfect balance of Yin and Yang. After a handful of minutes, the doors to the viewing balcony opened, and the afformentioned boy appeared, the Konoha Kunoichi he had defeated with such ease still slung over his shoulder. Even though she was older, larger and better built than him, the boy carried her weight as though she were a feather, or a speck of dust that had deigned to rest upon his shoulder, taking a break from its gliding on the wind. Killer B laid her down upon the floor gently, took a cloth out of a pouch on his leg and started to clean her cuts. One by one, all the shinobi present conglomerated over to watch the spectacle, wishing to share in the boy's unusual kindness, be it for the sake of their karma, or just because. In fact, after five minutes, all the genin in the viewing gallery were gathered around their wounded competitor, all save one.

The sole person in the room not caring to aid in the girl's recovery was a tall boy, of maybe fourteen, with slicked back hair that shone with a silvery-blonde radiance, as though the hair itself had been unable to decide on its hue and had opted for both. He wore a headband around his neck bearing the symbol of the Village Hidden in the Steam, along with some kind of pendant, a triangle within a circle. Yahiko had no idea what it could be as he looked the boy over, but he found himself rather less distracted by the boy's taste in jewellery than he was by the disproportionately sized scythe strapped to his back. It was the colour of the sunset, but much less inviting. It's single blade looked sharp enough to slice a man in twain with only the most meagre of effort. But what made the boy most unnerving was his smile. He bore a permanent sickly grin that could give the most hardened of men nightmares, in fact, scratch that analogy. It was a grin that was designed to give men nightmares and pleasure itself on of it. Yahiko shuddered and forced his eyes away from the repulsive boy and back to the feebly stirring girl from Konoha. The boy Yahiko had seen talking to Jiraiya was kneeling beside her, holding her hand. What was his name? Sakumo, that was it! Thought Yahiko. The white fang was doing his best to comfort his wounded comrade, and assuage her worries at having lost the match.

'It's alright Shizune, you win some you lose some.' Was all the words Yahiko managed to catch. The girl smiled slightly and allowed Sakumo to pull her to her feet, she wobbled unsteadily, but the Hatake boy had a tight arm around her, that is, until the PA system roared again.

Sakumo Hatake versus Haizen of the Hidden Sand.

'S'alright bro, i'll take care'o yo friend, s'the least I can do man' came a voice, Sakumo turned around to see Killer B, the ten year old was proffering his hand towards Shizune, accompanying it was a warm smile, which the Kunoichi mirrored. Nodding his acceptance, Sakumo left for the arena below, whilst B lead his new companion over to where Yahiko and the others were standing. Jumping at the chance to be social for once, Toshiro greeted the newcomers.

'Awesome match, I've never seen anybody move so fast!' B shrugged modestly, and offered a warm glance to his defeated opponent.

'I had to man, otherwise the lady woulda' ran my ass over, an' Killer B has a reputation to maintain.' Shizune smiled at the compliment but remained silent, gradually, this silence crept over everyone as they watched Sakumo enter the arena below them. The crowd watched, breath baited, as though their lungs were in love with the oxygen already contained within, unwilling to let it go. The silver-haired Shinobi took his position across from his opponent: a disproportionately fat ninja in his late teens who towered over Konoha's white fang. David had stepped up to meet Goliath. Haizen eyed his opponent contemptuously. He wasn't going to fall into the same trap that had claimed Sosuke earlier, victimisation by one's own bragging. Instead, the massive Suna genin reached for his weapon, an ornately crafted hammer which hung lazily at his side. The weapon's head was as big as it's owner's own, and was emblazoned with the image of a massive lion. This was a weapon that threw subtlety to the dogs...and then brutally killed the dogs for good measure. Sakumo, was by contrast, standing with his shoulers slouched, forcing uncaring hands into equally apathetic pockets.

'BEGIN!' Roared Hanzo from his perch between the two contestants. Without further warning, Haizen took a lumbering step forward, followed by another, then another, gaining momentum slowly until he was running at full sprint towards Sakumo, war-hammer held high above his head. Still Sakumo hadn't moved. Attempting to anticipate his opponent's movements, Haizen lowered the hammer, holding it out in front of him to narrow the gap between him and Sakumo, and to give him swinging room if his opponent moved at the last moment. The void between them was being eated up, ten metres, nine, eight, seven...six...

Faster than a thunderclap, Sakumo's hand's shot from their pockets and armed the fastest set of seals that Toshiro had seen in his life, failing utterly to follow their motion from his perch on the balcony, even with his Byakugan.

'LIGHTNING STYLE, LIGHTNING LANCE!' roared Sakumo, extending an arm in front of him. The technique lasted for only a moment, but what a moment it was. Out from the tips of Sakumo's fingers shot a long spear of brilliant blue-white light. The unearthly weapon hurtled towards Haizen in under a second, striking the larger man clean through the shoulder and out the other side. At first, nothing happened, the juggernaut from Sunagakure continued to plough onwards like a freight train, but then the huge man stumbled, tripping over his own feet, as though they had lost all connection to his brain. The great hammer flew from his hands, over the side of the arena platform, spiralling down aimlessly through the clouds below, and with a resounding crash of utter finality, Haizen hit the ground, face down, skidding to a halt at the feet of his bester.

'The Winner of the Bout is Sakumo Hatake, of the Hidden Leaf!' the crowd went wild. In fact, 'wild' didn't remotely do it justice. They'd seen two epic victories within five minutes. Two wins within seconds apiece. This was ninjutsu at it's finest. As though not noticing the whooping and cheering of the spectators, that was surely causing a disturbance in the village miles below. Sakumo turned on his heel and left, producing a small novel from his pocket as he did so.

'How the hell did he do that?' muttered Toshiro, dumbstruck. This exam was unearthing some of the finest ninja he'd ever laid eyes on from within the ranks of its competitors, and a nagging voice in his head was quietly doubting whether he could match up to them.

'Remember your golden heart' came a sagely voice next to Toshiro, the latter wheeled around to see who had interrupted his train of thought, who else but his sensei. Jiraiya winked knowingly at his student, conveying a lifetime's worth of support and care with a single flexing of the eyelid. The Sanin knew when to pick his moments. Dramatic timing was a keenly refined artform to the Toad Sage.

'Toshiro Hyuuga vs Hidan of the Hidden Steam!' roared Hanzo's amplified voice. Thanking whatever powers may be for Jiraiya's timely support, Toshiro shook the hands of his friends and made his way into the lift to the arena. This is my chance to prove myself smiled Toshiro inwardly. As the lift doors opened, Toshiro strode out into the arena, heart beating fiercely in his chest like an wild prairie wolf, howling at the moon. A ping behind him made Toshiro jump, turning around, he saw the second competitor lift open, revealing the scythe-armed boy he'd seen earlier, still bearing that ungodly smile that Toshiro imagined could kill a lesser man at point blank range with no need of extra weaponry. The youngest Hyuuga grimaced inwardly, but let nothing show on his face, setting his features in the grim battle-mask of his clan, utterly focussed and emotionless. No enemy could smell the fear of a Hyuuga, not now, not ever.

Toshiro took his place on the far side of the arena, carefully measured steps carrying him onwards, head held as high as possible without showing arrogance, hands tightly gripping the kunai in his weapon pouch. It would take more than a golden heart to win this fight, but as long as he has that, he couldn't lose by much.

'Let's get this over with, I don't have all fucking day.' Snarled Hidan, rolling his eyes towards the heavens. 'And neither does Lord Jashin.' Toshiro had no idea what on earth the foul-mouthed boy was on about, but took it under advisement. If he wanted a quick finish, then Toshiro would pull out all the stops from the very beginning.

'BEGIN!' roared Hanzo for the third time in the last fifteen minutes. No sooner had Toshiro heard the words, than he leaped forwards, drawing three kunai and launching them towards his target. Caught off-guard, the arrogant steam ninja parried the projectiles with his scythe, but Toshiro's plan had worked, Hidan was off balance, the chakra points at his neck, solar plexus and right leg were exposed. As his opponent swung his brutal weapon in a deadly but suicidally slow arc, Toshiro leaped over it and activated his Byakugan. It was time to unveil the trademark weapon of his clan.

'Eight Trigrams, 64 Palms!' spat Toshiro with contempt, whoever fought so clumsily with such a massive weapon was clearly unfit to be a ninja, and he would remind them of that painfully. Without pause for thought, Toshiro hurled a set of carefully measured jabs to the chakra points across Hidan's neck and torso: 8...16...32..6F PALMS! Roared Toshiro like a lion cub, eager to prove it had come of age and was worthy to take its place in the pride. Hidan flew backwards several feet, landing on his back, his scythe clattering to the ground in front of him. Landing on the balls of his feet, Toshiro felt a warm wet liquid sliding amiably down his arm. Chancing a look, he realived it was his own blood, coursing lazily from a small gash in his shoulder that the scythe had rent as it flew past him. It wasn't too deep, nothing he couldn't handle. What really scared him at this point though was the fact that his white-haired adversary was picking himself up, laughing his head off, like a hyena subjected to laughing gas.

'HAHAHAHA! OH LORD JASHIN THIS IS FUCKING BRILLIANT!' cried Hidan, clutching his side to hold in his laughter, seemingly unaware of the major chakra damage he'd just been dealt. In fact, had Toshiro not dealt the blow himself mere seconds ago, he would have sworn that nobody had attacked him at all.

'A WORTHY SACRIFICE AT LAST! FINALLY! FUCKING FINALLY!' this shook Toshiro to the core, what could he mean by 'sacrifice?' Afraid he knew the answer, Toshiro took a great leap backwards, eager to put as much distance between himself and this crazed zealot. Toshiro settled into a low crouching stance, ready to pounce if the still-laughing madman dared to come within ten metres of him. It wouldn't be quite so hilarious then.

As Hidan's eyes locked on Toshiro's, the former pulled a long blade out from inside his robe. Black as midnight and forged from steel that carried all the warmth of a graveyard. Hidan held it lovingly in his fist, relishing what was to come almost as much as he relished the growing look of confusion on his opponent's face. From across the arena, the raven haired Hyuuga watched, with creeping terror, as Hidan's skin faded to a deep black, engraved with bone-white skeletal designs across his face and torso, visible through his opened robe. It was like facing a man who's flesh was on the inside of his bones, a horrible twisted form of skeleton. Toshiro realised that it was no longer Hidan's eyes he was staring into, but those of death itself personified.

'It's been fun little Hyuuga, it really has. Nobody has caught me off guard like that before, not since my academy days. How fitting that my first sacrifice to Jashin-sama be my most worthy opponent.' The devil boy licked his lips menacingly, raising the blade above his head, and angling it towards his own heart. He can't be...began Toshiro inwardly, but it was too late.

'DEATH BLOOD POSSESION JUTSU!' screamed Hidan ecstatically, as he drove the blade through his own heart. Nothing happened for half a second, then pain coarsed through Toshrio's entire body, overflowing his nerves with pure, unadulterated agony. It was as though Armageddon had come, and concentrated itself entirely within his body. Toshiro collapsed onto his knees, vision blurring as his body desperately tried to fight the pain. His chest felt like something was trying to knife it's way through him from the inside. His vision came in bursts. He saw the blurred form of Hanzo stepping between him and his opponent, vaguely heard the Rain Lord's voice condemning Hidan for his use of a lethal technique. His half-working eyes watched in awe and wonder as the very ground beneath Hidan's feet opened up, watched the malicious Steam Genin fall through the void, with nothing but the clouds to slow his deadly descent to the village below. Then the world went black, leaving Toshiro alone in the darkness, with nothing but the unsteady, agonised beating of his heart and the last echoes of Hidan's still ecstatic laugh as he fell into oblivion, for company.

Jiraiya held his head in his hands and sobbed, offering up prayer after prayer that his youngest student, lying prone and peaceful in the bed in front of him, would live through the night. What a failure I am, the toad Sage cursed himself inwardly, I didn't prepare him for anything like this level of pain, I failed him, I've left him to die...

'We all make mistakes Jiraiya.' The sage jumped out of his seat, he knew exactly who the voice belonged to, he just wondered how the hell his old comrade managed to keep sneaking up on him like this.

'Not many make screw-ups this big Orochimaru.' Sobbed the Sannin. The serpentine ninja got down from the perch he had been occupying on the windowsill of the medical ward and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder, mirroring the movement he had always seen Jiraiya reserve for those he cared about. Choosing his words carefully, Orochimaru spoke, weighing every syllable on his overly large toungue.

'The thing about mistakes, old friend, is that we learn from them.' The snake sannin quickly backtracked under the withering gaze of his compatriot, desperately trying to assuage his worries for his dying student.

'The other thing, Jiriaiya, is that there is usually a way of righting our mistakes.' A look of confusion spread across Jiraiya's face, but underneath that, Orochimaru spied a tiny slither of something else. An emotion that Jiraiya was desperately holding out for, but determined not to give in to: Hope.

'Y-you have a way of fixing Toshiro?' The Sanin asked timidly, when Orochimaru nodded, he launched into a tirade about why his oldest friend hadn't already done it, and why had they wasted time talking when his youngest student was slowly losing his life on the table next to them.

'It's risky, I have never tried the technique before old friend.' The golden eyed man was starting to backtrack, perhaps what he had in mind was too much of a risk to take. But seeing the desperation in his old friend's eyes, he took his position next to Toshiro's silent form.

'There is no guarantee he will survive, but if this works, he should be in peak condition very soon. If it does not, he will die.'

'He'll die for sure if he stays here untreated, Oro, you're my last hope.' The final plea was too much for Orochimaru. The serpent-man selected the spot of Toshiro's neck that would give him the best access to his bloodstream.

'What is this technique anyway?' Jiraiya questioned. Desperate though he was for his student to survive, he had to make sure of what he was getting into.

'The Cursed Seal.' Replied Orochimaru, before biting down on Toshiro's vulnerable neck.

OMG! Sorry that took so long, I am literally on my exam week and I've either been partying or revising all these last few weeks, I mean come on, it's been Christmas and new year, what did you expect. Anyway, after a month's hiatus, Amegakure is back! Please read and review. I'll start working on chapter 8 as soon as my exam period is over. I'm not sure this chapter is my best work, but if it isn't, blame exam stress. I needed to get this chapter up or the fic would have died of writing asphyxiation. Check out my Gears of War fics if you haven't already!

Keep on reading, Happy New Year

RFRG

Next time: Revelations and Redheads