Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Naruto.
An Armed Truce
Part Six: The Secret and the Goddess
The thin line between love and hatred, insanity and genius
It's possible no one knows that place so well as I.
I've never lied to you,
so why...?
The sun painted the ground in shades of gold as it rose over the horizon, shining a radiance on this place in the midst of a silence that was almost eerie in its peace. It was a familiar scene that should be able to warm even the most cynical of hearts, but, as always, it missed hers by inches.
Here in Earth Country, it was impossible for her to hear anything but screams.
Once upon a time, once upon a time, once upon a time...
Her head throbbed, vision greyed around the edges; her foot caught on gravel and she stumbled, only barely catching her balance. She exhaled, slowly, through her teeth.
For a channel, lack of chakra wasn't necessarily life-threatening. But it wasn't the lack so much as the usage that would bring you to your knees. Every gram of chakra spent required an eighth of that time resting to regenerate, which was something no channel could duplicate on their own.
What she really needed was a rice ball--but that was impossible. The flood had washed away her bag, with her food, clothes, extra weapons, and spices along with it. She'd been incredibly lucky to muster enough strength, energy and control to maintain her hold on her wooden case, and her position in the canyon once the dubious safety of that crevasse had worn itself away.
Not that it mattered; even if she'd had a rice ball on her, chances were it was wet. Any water applied to the snack would negate most of the healing properties while significantly multiplying its risks.
(She thought it was a nice surprise that Itachi had still been well enough to wake up after he'd gone out of his way to poison himself.)
But what the hell. She was going to die soon, anyway; what was the real difference between total system meltdown and death by flesh-eating missing-nin?
Aside from the fact that one was already on its way, and the other was probably sweeping out of Earth Country right now with the tide.
"Don't you have better things to do than follow me?" She asked, voice dangerously low as she resumed her slow journey. "Such as watching your keeper, perhaps? Shisui-onii-san."
The ghost didn't hesitate, flashing to walk beside her. "You remember me," he said, and sounded far too cheerful. "And it's fine. Itachi can take care of himself."
"You have a face that is impossible to forget, onii-san," she said, voice decidedly less cheerful. "Weren't you the one who was supposed to kill me?"
"You knew." He only grew more amused. "All this time?"
"No." She gave the barest imitation of a shrug. "Suspected, maybe. But not for years. Tell me, do you go out of your way, volunteering to kill children?"
He laughed. "You really make me sound like a cruel person, Sakura-chan. But you liked the attention, didn't you? Wasn't I your closest friend?"
She ignored the question, if only because he was right. "Your family," she said quietly, "is hopelessly naive. Aren't they? It must have something to do with the Sharingan. Because your family is supposed to be so incredible, you only really deal with admiration and resentment. None of you ever suspect any ulterior motive."
"You're right."
This time, she actually turned her head to look at him, standing tall and strong beside her, looking exactly the same as he had when she was younger. Now that she was grown, he was only half a head taller than she was, but he still moved as he always had--lazily, like a cat.
"Your spirit," she said. "It's tied to his eyes, isn't it? That's why he can see you."
He smiled. "You're very intuitive, aren't you?"
"Not really," she said. Intuition had always been one of her weak points. What would pass as intuition for another would, for her, answer to reason and experience. "It's only logical. When Itachi-san killed you, you didn't become a ghost until after his Mangekyou was activated. There was a split-second variable. The source of his power is you. That's why his eyes are failing too, right? And why the Mangekyou takes place outside of time."
"You are astute," he said. "But I can't pretend to know all there is about the jutsu."
"You mean because you're a moron?"
"So mean, Sakura-chan."
"But it's true. The only jutsu you've ever been famous for was the Body Flicker, right? That's not exactly the most difficult jutsu, you know."
"If it was difficult, it would be too hard to use in battle conditions."
"And you wanted to catch up with the Yondaime, right?"
He smiled. "As always, you see right through me."
"He died at about the time you graduated from the Academy, so it was pretty reasonable," she said, and shrugged. "You wanted to be the next Hokage, by copying his jutsu. And then there was Itachi-san. You must have really resented it."
"Didn't you ever resent something?"
She looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "Not really. I've never been a particularly ambitious person."
"Maybe not an ambitious person, but definitely an arrogant one."
"And you?" She sent back without blinking. "Don't you think that you qualify as arrogant? You said that the only person who could ever hope to fill in the Yondaime's shoes was you, and you end up dying right off."
He laughed. "You really are exactly as Takaishi said. It's amusing," he said, and reached out to mess with her hair. "But you only show your real self to criminals."
"Don't be stupid. Who'd show their true self to purse-snatchers? Seriously." But the frosted smile that had originated on his face appeared suddenly on hers. "The only ones I show this face to are murderers."
Like you.
"I see." He removed his hand. "You know, that person loved you."
"Which person is this?"
"Takaishi. That's why when he died, he came running straight to you."
"You mean, he intended to haunt me?" She laughed. "Then maybe it was a good thing he went out before you finished absorbing him."
That earned a sharp look. "You knew?"
"The reason there aren't that many ghosts left isn't because more are passing over immediately. It's because you--and others like you--steal their energy to make yourselves stronger. Am I wrong?" She wrapped her arms around herself for warmth, tightening her death grip on her case. "And that's why it's rare for ghosts to haunt people. Because the instant they make that connection, someone like you always appears--and they always disappear.
"And they can never come back."
"Aren't you perceptive?" He patted her back and she turned sharply, knocking him flat with her elbow. He stared upward at her, nearly transparent from shock. "How did you...? Are you..."
"Dead?" She smiled. "What do you think?"
He flashed again to stand in front of her. "How do you still have a body?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Don't try to make me the same as you. The only reason you still exist is because you're tied to that person's eyes. You really have a pathetic existence."
"So...you met your Grandmother?"
"Idiot!" She shoved him out of her way. "Of course not! I've never met her. And despite rumor, she never developed a jutsu like that. They only called her The Immortal because your family is full of idiots."
"You aren't explaining this development!"
"And you aren't the type of person anyone would want to explain things to. So forget it."
"Then, if it isn't your Grandmother..."
She glanced at him over one shoulder. "Shouldn't you be with Itachi-san? What if he needs you?"
He smiled. "All right." He paused momentarily in the act of turning away. "When did you pierce your ears?"
She frowned, but didn't reach up to touch the cold iron hoops that now decorated them. "Around a month ago."
"Really?" He frowned, slowly fading out. "For some reason, it doesn't suit you."
She started laughing, seconds after he disappeared. "I don't need you to tell me that."
A short breeze almost knocked her over and she put a hand to her head, trying to stifle the screaming. Blood painted the ground a dark red that no amount of rain could wash away, and refused to disappear when she closed her eyes.
She needed shelter. She needed rest. She needed supplies. And, now that Zetsu was on the move, the needs grew more and more imminent.
A little desperately, she reached into her vest pocket, and was relieved to find that the golden vial hadn't washed itself away. Like the bugs, it had come from Shino; like the bugs, it would be unable to help her. But its mere presence gave her strength, and reminded her of the desperation in his hand, in his voice, as he gave her this last gift from a long friendship.
If you ever need help, I will find you. Don't forget to call.
She replaced the vial, exhaled a short breath of air. Both her chakra and stamina were probably only around about thirty percent. She needed at least twenty to be able to safely take a rice ball without sending her chakra coils into an uproar. She needed at least forty to generate enough power for a summon.
Which meant, naturally, that she'd spend more than half a day resting just so that she could stand a half a chance for survival. Twice as long if she stayed in stealth mode.
Did she even have twenty-five hours?
She pulled herself wearily up onto the ledge that stood as a border between Earth and Cloud Country, hung there from one hand as the rhythmic chanting began in her head anew.
Once upon a time, once upon a time, once upon a time...
"Shut up," she said sharply, and grabbed another handhold.
Her career had never been a thing of the seconds, minutes and hours of the average shinobi; days, weeks, months and years were a luxury that no ninja could afford. For now, at least, she would live one more heartbeat. One more step. Another inch up that scale of red rock.
He'd looked sad, right? She could survive if he was sad.
It had taken a matter of weeks for her life to fall apart after Sasuke had left. Naruto had disappeared with the legendary sennin, Jiraiya. Kakashi had disappeared without a word, pursuing his own strength. The very people who had praised the remaining Uchiha now labeled him a traitor.
She'd been moved into her own apartment, to keep her from getting any "ideas" about following her teammate's example.
She had traded--or been traded--the consistency of Team Seven for the repetition of medical training. The weak, helpless Haruno Sakura for another who would have a use, a purpose if she no longer had a soul.
She had never tried to disillusion herself when it came to Konoha's intentions. Toward her, toward her family, and, most of all, towards what had at one point been called Team Seven.
Unlucky us, to be on a team with that loser Naruto. Unlucky Sasuke, to be on road to nowhere with Sakura and Naruto. Unlucky Kakashi, to be on a team with a monster, the granddaughter of a mass-murderer, and one of the few remaining Uchiha.
Time hadn't changed them at all. Konoha was still slinging the rejects their way. Team Kakashi was still filled with characters no one would cry for if they never came back again.
Wasn't she the best example?
Sakura filled her hand with chakra, attached it to the tree and slid the rest of the way down. One of the benefits of Cloud Country--there were plenty of places to hide. And a channel could trade surrounding chakra for their own, which would make it almost impossible for them to be found by chakra alone. You might lose corners of it in the transfer, but it was certainly doable.
And, fifteen hours later, she was finally ready to weigh the odds in her favor.
She bit her thumb.
The kind of slug that came out was always smaller than you thought it would be. She rolled her eyes inwardly, because appearances were deceptive. Immediately recognizing her, it stretched itself out on the ground, for a moment resembling a silver puddle. When it came to their partnership, words were often a luxury. Cautiously, she climbed inside, and prepared for the worst.
And received it.
She fell out of the wall hard enough to leave a bruise on her arm and made a sound of disgust. The difference between the hiding place here and the ones in the snakes and frogs controlled by Naruto and Sasuke was that slugs didn't exactly have a mouth, and thus had no "entrance." You could enter from any place in their body, which meant, of course, that the gravity "inside" was different than the kind outside.
The floor was simple and wooden, classic Japanese style. And in one corner, where blankets piled up on top of a pallet, moving.
Slowly, grimly, the blankets parted and a dark head peeked out from them.
"Oh." She said darkly, and plopped her head back down. "It's you."
"It's me," Sakura agreed, sliding out of her vest. "Good evening, Kichimura-san. How are you feeling today?"
Kichimura Tomo, known for the past few years as Inago, narrowed her eyes. "How do you think I'm feeling? You drop me in here two months ago and forget about me. If it wasn't for your little slug friend, I'd be starving to death. And they're too nice. Do you know how annoying it is to have two months with no one to talk to except your 'house?' I'm going crazy here!"
"Did you want to try explaining your existence to ANBU with a broken leg?" She asked flatly and went to the dresser. She always kept a large supply of clothes here, and despite the two months the former spy had put into wearing them, there was still something left for her to change into.
Though she really had to do laundry.
"They found you?" Kichimura asked, with a hint of worry that no amount of torture would make her admit to.
"Yeah," she said. "Just outside of the city. They were coming to get us."
She flinched.
"Exactly," Sakura agreed. Unauthorized rescue missions that resulted in the capture and interrogation of the rescuer often did result in the swift orders of elimination from parties that could be implicated by that person's existence. And, because of who she was, there was no one who would speak for her safety.
One of the few reasons she hadn't simply knocked Sasuke over the head and dragged him back to Konoha by the hair.
Not that Tsunade's signature on her death warrant wasn't a stab in the gut.
"I'm sorry," the spy said sincerely. "I should have realized that I was compromised. Been more careful."
"And I should have killed first and asked questions later." She shrugged. "We were both fools."
But that had been almost impossible to do. Kichimura had given her a reason for living. A place where the Konoha higher-ups wouldn't be looking for another mission with an almost nonexistent survival rate. The Hokage had given her the tools to survive; Konoha had given her something to use them on.
But most people didn't nail a plank of wood with a guillotine hovering over their heads.
"Are they still chasing you?" Kichimura asked quietly.
She smirked. "Are you kidding? I apparently died about a month ago, after a fight with some Akatsuki members. Fell off a cliff."
"Did you win?"
The smile widened. "I still remain undefeated."
She sighed. "Not a bad way for a legend to end."
"Right. I'd have preferred to die after saving Sasuke-kun, thank you very much."
"So what are you doing here, anyway? Not for my company, I know."
"My supplies got washed away in the flood. I need to restock."
Kichimura almost nodded, and then her eyes narrowed. "Is that blood?"
She frowned, looked over her shoulder at the red that stretched down her entire right side. She'd thought that the bugs had been going crazy in that tree. So that was what had happened. She'd barely noticed.
"Yeah," she said. "Must have happened during the flood. There was some debris."
"So naturally you decided to go wading in it." The spy rolled her eyes. "Go take a bath before it gets infected. I'll put some lotion on it for you."
Sakura smiled gratefully. "Thank you," she said, and marched swiftly away.
Once upon a time, Inago had been the top spy on the track; an invaluable resource to Konoha. Only a select few were allowed to know even his codename, and only a fraction of those had actually seen the man and lived. He could have easily been a name upheld by a dozen people, but those who knew him and all knew his signs, and upheld that there was only one, could only be one, Inago. The dead body that had lain at Kichimura's feet hadn't looked anything like a spy, but it had been identical to the picture she'd been given, with the addition of a bluish tint to his skin and a few smears of blood. The young woman standing above him had remained relatively unharmed, unwinded.
Kichimura Tomo had inherited his name and his title, and the responsibilities that went with them. And after a few minor complications, Sakura had become her only contact. The fall of the famous spy remained a complete secret. In all likelihood, it would remain that way.
But it would be impossible for her to keep the disguise now. For the time being, she was lucky to still have her life.
Sakura would do anything to be sure that she kept it.
She grabbed the towel off the shelf, patting her arm dry, and didn't look at the doorway. Slug houses didn't generally have doors so much as openings, but they were considerate enough if you told them what you wanted. Or so she'd heard; she'd maybe said a grand total of ten words to them over their years of partnership. She spent too much time in situations that required silence.
She let the towel fall to the floor, pulled her robe off of the hook and put it around her shoulders. There was no real point to wearing it; the scratches ran all the way down her right. Habit, maybe, being the only reason.
Kichimura smiled at her, the same meaningless smile she always had. She'd managed to get to the medical kit she'd left there on one leg, and now sat in the crumpled pile of blankets on the floor, dressed entirely in red beset with white rings. "Feeling better?"
There was nothing she could do but smile back. "Mmm," she said, and moved to sit with her, touching a short kimono on the floor with the tip of one finger. "You look good in my clothes."
"It would be a waste if no one wore them," the spy said. "And you said that I could help myself. Give me your arm."
Obediantly, she slid her arm out of the sleeve and offered it. "Did I say that?" She asked curiously.
"You don't remember?"
"I said many things," she said. "But I don't remember much about that."
"Really?" The spy finished tying the bandages on one arm, and moved to her leg. "What do you remember?"
"Nothing I wouldn't be happier forgetting."
"Oh?" She looked at her steadily, her hand suddenly still. "You can tell me."
"Did you enjoy being Inago, Kichimura-san?"
"I did," she said, and smiled, resuming her administrations. "Because you were there. Like you are now. Did I ever thank you for coming after me?"
"I did nothing that deserved thanks," Sakura said flatly. "I only made the situation worse for you. I should have known that you would never have asked for help yourself. Not even from me. We should both be dead right now."
"Mmm. But not many people can burn a mind-altering drug out of their systems. You're a very special person."
"If your chakra is fire type, it doesn't cost much to heat your body. The hard part is turning a stagnant chakra into a usable kind. It's basic." It was also a trick that she was incapable of now. A channel's ability was in the mind, and the echoes in her head would drive her mad.
"It hurts you"
"It's painful," Sakura agreed. "A channel can burn to death if they aren't careful."
A person with no sense of self-preservation was incapable of being careful.
The spy sighed and finished tying the bandage around her leg. "I'm sorry about your Grandmother."
"Why?"
"I know that you wanted answers that only she could give you."
Sakura sighed. "Kichimura-san," she said quietly, picking clothes off the floor almost at random. "Do you believe that the past can be rewritten?"
She leaned back, watching the kunoichi select and discard outfits, throwing them into a pile on the floor, resting her head on one hand. "Wear that one," she said when Sakura pulled up the short red kimono. "It reminds me of when we met."
Sakura laughed, folding it over one arm. "My flower girl costume. I didn't wear that until later."
Kichimura smirked in return. "True. It takes a very special person to look good covered in dirt in an ostentatious, cropped kimono."
"Character building is my specialty," she said simply, and pulled out a pair of shorts to wear with it.
"The past changes every day," the spy said abruptly, before that lighthearted silence could fall. "It's manipulated by memories, constantly. It's fluid, not static.
"You said so."
Sakura smiled, slightly. "You're right."
She had, after all, pulled that piece of info from her mother's journals--the same place she'd learned that most forbidden of jutsus, back when the other Academy students were still learning swapping jutsus.
My existence is a lie was an unavoidable truth. Her only consolation was that everyone else was just as imaginary as she herself.
The spy didn't speak at all as Sakura dressed behind the partition, but she didn't need eyes in the back of her head to know that the other woman was watching her. She tied the obi with the ease of long practice, checking her reflection in the mirror to check the shape, and adjusted the edges to look more worn more out of habit than design. She was not, after all, Sakura the flower girl. Disguise was unnecessary.
"What?" She asked curiously, glancing over her shoulder.
"You look tired."
"I am tired." She picked up her hitai-ate, tied back her hair. "I haven't been sleeping much lately."
"People make fatal mistakes if they don't rest."
"You're right." She sighed. "Unfortunately, there's no time. Akatsuki has Naruto, and unless I get to him before they finish the jutsu, it's too late. Added to that, I have a little vendetta against one particular member, who is currently on his way."
"You mean Pein?"
She nearly laughed, pulling a bag out of the closet to fill. "Don't be stupid. Can you actually see Pein running after anyone, least of all me?"
"I thought it would be reasonable, after what you did to him."
"Not as much as I'd have liked." There was a clatter as the kunai fell into the bag, and they both looked down at it as though surprised they had the nerve to make noise. Sakura looked at them silently for a moment before throwing clothes on top of them, and burying the clothes with medical supplies. "Besides, he already knows that I'll return to him eventually. That it's inevitable."
The real question was how much he could expect to hurt her between then and now.
"No," she said. "The one that I'm talking about is Zetsu."
Kichimura looked surprised. "Zetsu?"
"He killed my father." She picked up a glass bottle of perfume and frowned at it for a moment before spritzing herself and sticking it into the bag. "You wouldn't know anything about him, would you?"
"Do you have any idea how expensive that perfume is?"
"I bought it," she reminded her primly. "And it's useful. It's impossible to remain inconspicuous without it."
She sighed and fell back only her makeshift bed. "Being inconspicuous is impossible for you."
That earned a smile. "You think so?"
"Goddesses don't tend to walk around pretending to be air. But fine, I'll tell you." The long-suffering tone was familiar and borderline affectionate. "Zetsu isn't someone you can expect to win against. You won't be able to touch him, above or below ground, and there's no safety in the trees. He will find you no matter where you are, and once he does, you're dead. You aren't invincible; you're lucky that you haven't had to face anyone like him before."
"He killed my father."
"Your father chose the wrong time to be born."
"You don't understand; I don't have a choice. Unlike the rest of Akatsuki, he's not immobile while they do the separation ceremony. My only way to delay them is to kill him."
"Throwing your life away isn't going to accomplish anything. You won't save your friend. He's already dead, whether his heart's still beating or not."
She smiled. "So what you're saying is that I need to develop a new jutsu in the next fifty-nine seconds."
Though she'd have a chance if only she had the perfect source of chakra. One tall, thin barrier, and all she'd have to worry about would be keeping the mysterious Zetsu within close range...not likely to be a problem, since she had yet to hear of any jutsu he was most likely to use.
Of course, any witnesses would probably be dead.
Damn it, this would be so much easier if she had Shino with her. She could use that jutsu so much more easily with him there to help her. But there was no chance of him getting here in time to help her. Actually, the chance of that happening was about a negative billion.
"Don't worry," she said quietly, "I'll be fine. There's no other choice, so I'll just have to live through it. I hate showing all of my cards like this, but sometimes it's unavoidable."
There was a moment of silence before the spy let out the rest of her breath in a long sigh of defeat. "Do you need chakra?"
"Yes." She dropped the bag next to the wall where she'd first gotten in, and eased down to sit beside her. She held up a hand. "Do you remember how to transfer?"
Kichimura lifted her hand to touch palm and fingers. "Yes."
"Divide your chakra in half, and build only that half up; let it spill over into your fingertips. Keep them separate; if they're connected anywhere, I could kill you by removing it."
It was dangerous, it was so dangerous. Her pulse raced as chakra flowed from the spy into her, racing down her chakra coils, roaring to pool in her stomach. It was hot and delicious and painful, as the rotating chakra converted from the spy's type to her own, and left her with the impression of someone who's just ate. As always, it left her feeling a little like a vampire. A little like a murderer.
Color leeched slowly from the spy's face, and her veins grew more and more vivid. Sakura waited, one heartbeat, two, and finally let the hand go.
Too fast, too fast. It had to be exactly fifty percent of the chakra, or shock would set in, but Kichimura always refused to remember that. She always gave away too much, or didn't cut it off properly.
She wasn't the type to "image" her chakra, and lack of imagination got people killed every day.
But she needed chakra, to make as big a target as possible. Any less would be useless.
The spy was still breathing. Sakura picked her back up and inhaled, letting the residual effects of the transfer burn through her chakra coils, building heat until it reached the surface of her skin. The flowery scent of the perfume spiked sharply, and she pressed against the wall, pushing through it into the outside.
She was upside down when she fell, crashing into tree branches on the way back to the ground. When she touched the ground again, there was no longer any trace of scent, as her body absorbed the aroma of her surroundings. Leaf and sap and dirt, and other fragrances far less appealing.
Her mind snapped out, snatching at the thin string between herself and Itachi, tracing through it to Zetsu.
And found him close, but distracted. There was food nearby.
A mess he needed to clean up.
Her heart nearly froze, since there was no question who he meant. And this time when she ran, she didn't hesitate, and ran like Death itself was right behind her.
Coincidentally, Zetsu knew she was coming. A creature who could sense ghosts on top of having two minds, like she did, would feel the hand on the link between them that grew progressively stronger with each step she took in his direction. The lack of scent was but a small deterrent, since she burst out of the trees without ceremony, and stood in full view, tall and proud like the Goddess she claimed to be.
Most likely because the "food" he seemed so intend on consuming happened to be the adult half of her team, namely Yamato and Kakashi, of which only the former seemed to be mobile--and him only barely.
She was breathing hard, but her eyes remained on the Akatsuki, barely flicking to her teammates. "I thought so," she said quietly.
"Who's this?" One half of the villain inquired.
"Haruno Sakura, at your service," she said over the excepted 'who cares' the missing-nin's other half provided. "Maybe you've heard of me."
An easy assumption to make, considering who this person was. According to Itachi, this creature was the witness of most of Akatsuki's monstrous acts (who wanted to see boring stuff?), so there was no reason for him to miss her. The whispered that passed between both halves only cemented that belief, but only because she knew what they were saying.
Pein's new toy, indeed.
"Get out of here, Sakura," Yamato said weakly.
So he didn't know what had happened. Thank goodness.
"Sorry," she said, and dropped her hand to her kunai pouch. "I can't do that. This person killed my father. And I refuse to let what happened to Gaara happen to Naruto."
Zetsu was on top of her almost before the kunai was thrown. It landed right next to the ANBU, useless, and Sakura sent a chakra-filled punch that barely scraped the missing-nin's white face. Blood fell from her hand, thick enough to splash on the ground; her opponent crashed into a tree that did little to slow him down. Sakura planted herself between him and her team, aware even as she did so that the only reason she was there was because he allowed her to be.
She grit her teeth and wiped at the blood with her thumb, ducking down for a summon. "Get in," she said sharply. "I'll buy you some time."
Yamato hesitated, and she was barely able to repel the Akatsuki as he zipped forward again. He wasn't trained to help her in this sort of situation, and she had no time to teach him; like this, he could only be in her way.
This really is impossible without Shino, isn't it?
"Go!" She commanded, eyes not leaving Zetsu. "You're worse than useless here."
He nodded slowly, and lowered Kakashi into the puddle of slug before following him into it. But the Akatsuki chose that moment in between to attack in a wave of kunai that stabbed into her body as she shielded them, and then appeared behind her, aiming a kick at the back of her neck.
A dehabilitating move that would make this entire expedition fruitless, and provide the Akatsuki member another snack--and a doorway to more. She barely blocked it in time, and skidded across the ground, herself. She caught her kunai on the way back, aimed and threw with surprising precision considering the situation, and nearly cried at the pain.
She was terrified. Zetsu had escaped beneath the ground, and the only good sign was that Yamato was finally gone. She gestured towards the slug and it compliantly shrank down to its normal size.
And she dove for it--an instant before Zetsu struck. Swiftly, she used to blood-stained hand to mark a circle around the slug, and moved the majority of her chakra above the slug, forming a tall line of chakra. She pushed back through it, putting the circle between her and Zetsu, simultaneously making the seals.
He followed--and immediately screamed in agony as the barrier configured matter into energy, channeling chakra into her body. She smirked, but weakly, at the familiar burn of excess.
I need more, she thought. This isn't enough for an attack.
She grabbed Zetsu's arm, gathered chakra into her other hand, and punched him through the barrier. The black arm fell to the ground, a hole formed in the green 'leaf' framing his body, and he continued to scream, recoiling in pain. He turned to flee for a ranged attack and she quickly formed seals, expelling a rapid current of chakra that interrupted his flow on top of burning him, and she put his severed arm against the barrier, converting that, too, into chakra, simultaneously blowing away more kunai.
This time, when he disappeared, he did not come back. Sakura traced his movement for about a mile and then let go of the connection, in too much pain to hold onto it.
"Hopeless," she said weakly, and laughed. "Really."
"Apparently not."
She turned, noticed black hair, Sharingan red eyes, and four bodies standing behind the owner. She smiled, green eyes seeking out only one face; the most important face.
"Sasuke."
He stood there impassively, hands in his pockets in a gesture so reminiscent of the old Sasuke that she wondered momentarily if she was dreaming. Had to be. There was no way that Sasuke was coming with her to save Naruto, let alone her; especially not alongside his brother.
"Kinda makes you wonder what we rushed out here for."
Sakura laughed, stepped forward with her mouth open to reply, and then fell to the ground in a dead faint.
The thing about the dead is that their existance rested on the lives of those who knew them. And like any good shinobi, Sakura's career had remained secret to all but a few witnesses scattered over time, almost all long since dead. And the only person who knew even half of her legend would never hear the rest.
And naturally, the legend she knew was the one designed for telling; the children's version.
The joke of that, at least, had her waking with a smile on her face. And staring, blankly, into a set of unfamiliar eyes in a long, broad face. The smile froze and she blinked, sorting through information, trying to recall as terror and panic flashed in the back of her head. Then another face hovered in the corner of her vision, prompting her arm to thrust out, sending the ghost flying. The unfamiliar face--and several others, she noticed now--all stepped away from her, and she pushed herself up into a sitting position, glancing around, accepting the blood red tint that stained her vision as something she couldn't change.
And was relieved to find that she still remembered who she was now that her eyes were open.
She was still in the dirt, next to a puddle of blood that erased all but the faintest trace of her circle. She hadn't moved an inch from where she'd fallen.
Actually, chances were that the impact had been what woke her up.
"Ouch," Shisui complained, rubbing his chest. "I am never going to get used to that."
"Watch your ghost, Itachi-san," she commanded. "Or lose him."
He looked stunned, but, predictably, the other four weren't able to see ghosts, least of all this one, and seemed to be wondering if she was crazy.
They had no idea.
"You shouldn't move," Sasuke said.
She ignored him, wiping the last remnants of the circle into the dirt, and aimed a glance at Itachi. "What's he doing here? Didn't I tell you to kill him already?"
Sasuke's expression stiffened. "He still has uses."
"Really." Since he'd explained it to her, it meant that he was still struggling with it. Or maybe there was something going on here that she didn't understand. Possible. She began removing kunai, healing her wounds as she went, and then frowned at them both. "Did you two fight or something?"
"Yeah," one of Sasuke's companions said, and rolled his eyes. "You should have seen it, they--" he broke off quickly at a glare, and looked at the sky in apparent frustration.
"I'm all for a peaceable solution," she said, looking at the younger Uchiha meaningfully, "but couldn't you have decided that three years ago?"
This time Sasuke's annoyance was aimed at her, but she returned his glare levelly and moved to her bag, pulling out a tin of medicinal ointment and throwing it at him.
"Fix yourself up," she commanded. "Your blood offends me." A statement that had every last one of them looking pointedly to her bloodstained kimono, though he did, after a moment, tend to his wounds. She watched him for a moment silently before taking off her kimono and throwing it to the ground. The slug parted from where it was hiding in the bag reluctantly, drawing the fabric into its body before disappearing in a puff of smoke, removing any remaining trace of blood on the ground. She ignored the movement, pulling another cropped kimono out of her bag and draping it around her shoulders like a robe, whistling all the while.
There would be no point in putting bloodstains on an otherwise unmarred piece of fabric.
"Do you have to make that noise?" Sasuke's voice was pained, with a kind of restraint that was completely uncharacteristic of him.
She ignored him, using her perfume to soak a scrap of cloth and wiping the worst of the bloodstains off of her mesh shirt.
"Do you really think that's going to help?" The smaller of the two strangers asked snidely. "It stinks."
She met his eyes and smirked. "You don't know anything about chemistry, do you?" She retopped the bottle and moved it back into the pack. "This perfume's origin is Earth Country, from a group of flowers that grow only on the mountaintops outside Iwagakure. Legend has it that the flowers were originally grafted by the daughter of a famous feudal lord, who loved flowers so much that she grew the flowers all around her house. One day, her father was shot with an arrow and was on the brink of death; he escaped, but everyone knew that he lived on a mountaintop covered in sweet purple flowers. So his daughter and their servants planted them on every mountaintop surrounding Iwagakure, and they fled their home to hide in the village masquerading as a caravan party.
"So when the father's enemies came looking for him, all they found was an empty, run-down house on top of a mountain. And of course, by then, his injuries had long since healed. So as his enemies went home in defeat, their bodies were marked by the scent of the flowers and allowed him to follow with ease. They were not even aware that he was there until every last one of them were dead. Eventually, people decided that it was because their noses had become too used to the scent of flowers that they hadn't noticed him coming, but their family was renowned for their sense of smell; they wouldn't risk losing their edge over something so trivial. And when you become used to the smell, you don't notice that smell alone, not surrounding scents.
"The actual reason they couldn't find him by scent was because of this perfume," she continued, carefully sealing up her bag to insure that it was airtight. "When converted into a perfume, it has a life of six hours, during which time you need only to provide heat to produce a no-smell zone." She held up the damp, bloodstained piece of cloth, focusing her chakra into it while simultaneously building it up into her body. The cloth immediately burst into flame, disintegrating into ashes in an instant, while the flowery scent disappeared during the distraction. She promptly removed all chakra from her body, scattering it into her surroundings and watched all the blood drain from the other girl's head.
She smiled, folding her kimono back around her. "Do you smell anything now?" She asked innocently.
"Interesting trick," Itachi said simply while the girl sputtered, staring at her in wide-eyed horror.
"Glad you like it," she said. "Want to try my perfume?"
He actually seemed to consider it, which was something she'd never seen in anyone else before. She could just imagine Sasuke's reaction of complete, utter denail at being asked the same question. Naruto's extreme, ear-splitting protests. Even Kakashi's polite refusal. Not even Sai was likely to try it, no matter its practical uses.
Which was why she was surprised when he held out his hand. "If you don't mind."
At which time the girl had finally regained both auditory capabilities and full use of her language, sticking her finger under Sakura's face. "You-you-you...are you a ghost?"
Sakura paused in the act of untying her bag. "Probably. Does it really matter?"
Note: And this time I'm a measly 171 words short of my 7000 word deadline. Whatever. At least it's more than last time.
In this chapter I think I'm being pretty blatant about what's going on and what's already happened. If you still can't figure it out, well, there's still 13 chapters after this one. I had a lot of trouble with the OC in this chapter, because she has like this gigantic crush on Sakura, and the scene kept wanting to lean towards smutty. And if you're curious about Sakura and Shino's relationship...well, I don't know if I'm going to go into that much detail about it in this chapter. Suffice to say that he and Sakura spent a lot of time together developing that jutsu I used during the ZetsuSakura fight; because she can't exactly see the flow of her chakra, she used his bugs to trace the movement for her. They're actually a very incredible team, but it's all hush-hush.
As for the jutsu itself...well, you hear about it more in the next chapter. I actually developed it for a different story to kill Madara, but it requires both Shino and Naruto as well as Sakura to be used effectively. I don't think I'm going to use it again in the story though (didn't even want to use it here).
By the way, sorry for the unannounced hiatus on the story. This chapter was actually very hard to write...it even turned into a flashback at one point. Then I put it aside for my May Project (which fell through), and when I got ready to go back to it in June, my Grandmother had a stroke on the 2nd. She's fine, but she's been in rehab until the 3rd of this month, and is now home again, though she still has Out Patient therapy three times a week, which means I have to stay here and look after the dogs while she's relearning how to walk and use her left side.
But I guess it's not all bad. I did, after all, manage to write most of this while we were going through that little drama.
In any case. Ask what you want; I'm always happy to answer. (Though I really have no idea what the reaction will be to this turn of events...or the next dozen I have lined up...)
Thank you ArjunaAnja, 13th hour, aznkitty180, akatsuki's hikari, kakashi-and-pocky, HinataHyuuga211, Hao'sAnjul, dark Alley, Pandastacia, Ita-ta, Hiei's Cute Girl and Takara Makoto for reviewing! Hopefully the next update won't take that long. It's Itachi's turn again!