A.N. Oh, boy. Where to begin with this one. Well, I guess to start, I'll point out that this is the longest chapter to date. I know that doesn't excuse the lateness, but hey, it's something!
In response to reviewers -100% of which expressed apathy for the lemon between Kushina and Minato- I've pulled the sex scene in favor of something a little bit more PG13. I've never had a flare for the passion scenes, and this foray has proved to me that that hasn't changed. I won't put anymore of them in this story as I think it takes away from the tale.
Some people have expressed concerns that I'll be shifting the focus from Naruto; this is and is not the case. Overall, I consider this story to be very Naruto-centric. However, the tale I am trying to tell is vast, and will cover the experiences of more people than one person. Naruto can't be everywhere at once, and in the case of ACT II, he's pretty much incapacitated. It'll still be a while yet, but Naruto will get back in the sunlight. Be patient, please.
The cover-art for this story was drawn by none other than my amazingly talented sister. I have a link to her deviant art page if you're interested in seeing more (she's not inot Naruto, so you won't see much of that, but she is an anime junkie. Odds are, she likes a series you do too, so check it out!)
I've created an account on twitter to give updates on chapter progress. Check it out if you want to stay current with my progress.
OoOoOoOo
Chapter 7: Broken Inside
The thin veil that separated each universe from the darkness that was the space between worlds split open. It was nothing dramatic; to the casual observer, it would appear as if someone had simply pulled aside a curtain. A figure, dressed in a black so dark it seemed to devour the light around it, stepped out of the rift and smirked. His eyes, colored somewhere between a sickly yellow and putrid green, flashed, their unnatural glow shining brighter than the light from the moon.
He, for the figure was masculine, brushed his jacket off with a few rough swipes of his hands. Each pass sent little black and white clouds fluttering off into the sky. He looked around and clucked his tongue in disappointment. "Not quite to the center yet, but a hell of a lot closer than before. One more jump should do it. Perfect." The word buzzed out his throat, practically a hiss.
The burning at his feet was still a far off problem, his physical form had been fully formed for this dimensional hop, so he wasn't in desperate need of a body at present: he'd need a vessel soon, though. He closed his eyes, cutting off their supernatural glow, and spread his awareness out. This jump had taken him much closer to the center of Beam of the Dog, Path of the Horse; one that his master was particularly interested in toppling. Flagg had his own reasons for being here, but he wasn't foolish enough to ignore the Crimson King's orders; he was prideful, not stupid. If he was lucky, he could kill two birds with one stone.
"The last couple of hundred years have been fun," the sound of his voice caused the nearby crickets to stop chirping. "I don't see any reason to change the formula now. Not when I'm so close to the finish line." He had been trying to get to the keystone world of this beam for many decades. Each world he went to followed a slightly different path, but the basic chain of events was the same. He would cause conflict, the blond would rise to the occasion and grow in power. Little things might change, like which lackeys worked with him throughout his life, or which whore he chose to fuck, but the outcome was always the same. Pillage and burn Konoha, murder the Hokage's little slut, and fake his own defeat. Naruto would get a hold of Flagg's 'journal' which contained the coordinates to the nearest possible jump. He would then unknowingly open a door that had been locked against demons -but not humans- for hundreds of years.
Rinse and repeat. Simple as pie.
Now he had to do exactly as he had previously. Whether Naruto would once again help him -this time by opening a door to a keystone world- remained to be seen. It had worked before, and the past had a way of repeating itself. Faced with yet another overwhelming loss, the Uzumaki brat or one of his pitiful pals would surely try the plan again. They did say Ka was a wheel, right?
His train of thought was violently derailed by the sudden appearance of a power so massive that it left Flagg feeling slightly weak-kneed. A cold sweat beaded on his forehead as he turned to look at the figure that had appeared out of thin-air less than a foot away.
The figure was tall and lanky; her greasy hair hung in a shining curtain over the majority of her face. One milky-brown eye stared past him from the shadow of her bangs, but Flagg knew that his visitor was anything but blind.
"Ah," he said cheerily, doing his best to adopt the mockingly care-free tone that he normally used. "What have I done to warrant such a royal welcome as to be greeted by a Guardian such as yourself?"
"Do not insult my intelligence, Walter Padick." The voice that emanated from the desiccated figure had a horribly sand-paper like quality to it, but it was the use of his birth name that made Flagg flinch back as if he had been slapped. "You're here to topple my beam."
Flagg's eyes cut back and forth, as if searching for an escape route. "You can't do anything to stop me," he said, sounding as if he were convincing himself, not the being before him. "You're forbidden from killing any creature, it comes with being a guardian, right?"
She laughed, shaking her head as she approached him, the greasy strands of her hair swinging erratically. "I couldn't stop you, dear Walter." She stopped in front of the frozen demon, one skeletal hand rising to cup his cheek. "I had to watch as you slaughtered your way through dozens of my realms, unable to raise a finger to help my charges. I've watched you torture, rape, and murder the people of this beam for centuries, as powerless to stop you as they were." Her fingers trailed down his face, leaving a trail so cold that it stung. They stopped, pressing against his lips as he tried to speak. "But this time, you've wondered too close to my domain; and this time, I think you'll find that I'm not as powerless as you thought."
The Guardian forced her fingers between his lips, breaking his teeth off like bits of chalk. Her hand slid over his tongue, down his throat, and into the part of him that was anything but human.
Flagg screamed, but found her arm unyielding when he grabbed onto it. In fact, the limb continued its course as if he hadn't even touched it. Stop it, you bitch!
If she had heard his telepathic message, she gave no sign. When all but her shoulder had disappeared into his maw, she braced her free hand against his chest and began to pull back.
Lightning streaked across the sky; one bolt after another illuminating the world. Thunder crackled; distant but powerful. The temperature plummeted. Frost crystallized along the blades of grass, and insects in the field were frozen. The source of the heat loss was Flagg himself, his body acting like a sponge to the heat in the immediate area. Steam rose from Flagg's skin as his body temperature skyrocketed, trying to pull energy from the environment to use against his attacker, but the Guardian's skin remained cold as ice.
The sorcerer's power was hot and raging as it fought against the cool assurance of the Guardian's strength, and he knew even as he did that he couldn't win. The being standing before -not really a woman at all, but a demigod given form- was completely out of his league. She was to him as he had been to the denizens of these realms.
Her arm continued its retraction from his gullet; first her elbow reappearing, then her wrist. As her hand withdrew, his lips stretched taught around her clenched fist, the first wisps of black smoke began to drift out of the demon's nose. She ripped her limb completely free of him -a dimly glowing ball of red and orange clutched tightly between her fingers- the wisps became a pillar of coal black fumes that erupted from within him.
Flagg's head snapped back, his eyes rolling up to show their bloodshot whites. The pillar continued to shoot skyward out of his mouth, never dispersing, instead appearing to disappear into the stars.
"You're right about one thing, Walter, I can't kill even one so low as you."
Flagg couldn't respond, but he could easily hear her through the haze of pain that had engulfed his body.
"I can, however, even the odds a little bit. I know you prefer to play with a loaded deck. A cheating poker man, through and through; that's you, isn't it, Walter? Playing a game of chance, but taking away the element of luck. In my opinion, you're defeating the purpose." She smiled, revealing a perfect row of rotten black teeth. "I've always preferred games of skill. Chess is my favorite."
The smoke column abruptly halted, and Flagg collapsed into a sweaty, shivering heap. The Guardian chuckled, the clearing echoing with a sound akin to fingernails on a chalkboard. "I've taken the edge off of your powers, Walter. Now I want you to play your game with my people again, only this time on an even playing field." She turned, her form shimmering in the light cast by the turbulent sky. "If you win this time, I'll walk you to my keystone world myself."
Then she was gone, and Flagg was alone in the icy field.
OoOoOo
Minato took a sip from his mug, grimacing as the bitter coffee flowed down his throat. He'd never understand how Kushina could enjoy drinking the sludge every day, but he couldn't deny that the western drink helped him focus. The conversation he and his student were having required something much stronger than tea.
His eyes had been stuck on the younger man since they had sat down at the table in his kitchen. Kakashi looked haggard, and the effect wasn't lessened by the crazy-looking blue that had replaced his left eye. Disregarding the disconcerting color choice on his student's part, the simple fact that Rin had the skills to successfully transplant an entire eye was astonishing. Her skills had grown far beyond what he could have suspected; he supposed that sometimes war was the best teacher. Still, that kind of raw potential shouldn't be squandered. He decided to call in a favor once his meeting with Kakashi was over.
Kakashi's mask was bunched around his throat; he raised his own cup to his bare lips, taking two big gulps of the scalding liquid without so much as a shudder. He looked at Minato, his mismatched eyes the only indicator of how tired he was. How long had it been since the freshly-minted jounin had slept? Two days? Three?
"He realizes that he doesn't have to do that, right?" Minato asked. His tone was light, but in his mind the blond was fuming. How dare that son-of-a-bitch put his student in such a situation. "My word carries a lot of weight; and the Third will almost certainly back me up."
Kakashi took another swallow from the quickly emptying mug. Shaking his head, he replied, "I don't think the elder in question put any pressure on Obito at all. I think that all he did was offer him the position, and Obito took it." He drained the mug and sat it down on the table with a muffled clunk: Minato realized with a pang of distaste that the Hatake had drunk the coffee black.
The blond sighed, setting his own, nearly full mug down as well. "I suppose it makes sense that he'd want to accept the offer. An automatic promotion to jounin, and a heftier pay-stub to match the rank..." His voice was still perfectly calm -he didn't want to wake his sleeping wife, after all- but the anger in Minato's chest had turned into a hot little ball of frustration. The ball loosened a little as a thought occurred to him. "If that's all he wants, he doesn't have to transfer to the military police to get it." He cupped the sides of the mug, warming his palms a bit. He made a mental note to turn up the heat before he went to bed.
Kakashi leaned forward, resting his good elbow on the polished wood of the table. "I suppose you've decided to put him up for promotion?"
Minato nodded, taking a sip from his drink. "Rin, too. I'm probably not wrong in assuming that the Third will take my recommendations as proof enough." He pushed the cup towards Kakashi, "Here, you look like you need this more than I do."
The Hatake took it, drinking greedily. He paused to grimace, giving Minato a look. "What did you do, put half a cup of sugar in this?" He ignored Minato's annoyed look and pressed on. "If that was what he was after, I'd say you're right; but Obito isn't interested in getting promoted or getting a raise. He's trying to get away from me."
"Why would he be trying to get away from you? Everyone seemed to be getting along fine earlier." Minato was skeptical, that much was clear. The words that had been spoken earlier didn't match up with what he was hearing now. Less than a day ago, Obito said he would rather resign than abandon his friends, but now he was doing just that.
Kakashi wiped at the corner of his new eye, but Minato couldn't tell if he was crying or if the transplant was only weeping. "I made a bad decision not long after you left," he began, his face downcast. "When Rin was kidnapped...I decided to leave her behind," the last words were spoken in a whisper, but the shame in them could easily be heard. "Obito wanted to go back...and at first I let him go alone."
Minato reached out a placed a hand on his student's shoulder. "But you changed your mind. You went back and the two of you saved her. That's all that really matters."
"Not to him. Obito says that there's no way he could ever trust me to watch his back anymore." He gently grasped Minato's wrist and pushed his hand away. "To be honest, I don't blame him." He moved to stand, careful not to bang his sling against the table. "Don't try to make him stay, sensei. He's right. I'm not leadership material."
He left his normally poised teacher sitting in stunned silence.
OoOoOo
"Sounds like he's pretty torn up about it."
Minato jumped, not having noticed Kushina come up behind him. He twisted in his chair, craning his head to look up at her. "What are you doing up, dear?"
The red-head held up one finger, her lips curled into a slightly condescending smile. "I heard some rather fervent whispering, a sure sign that something was up. A true ninja should always be aware of his surroundings, ya know?"
The blond rolled his eyes, leaning forward to stand, but had to stop when his wife's small -but strong- hands fell on his shoulders. "Can I help you?" The woman behind him didn't say anything, but her fingers gently prodded at the tense muscles in his shoulders. He groaned, melting into her grip.
"He'll be alright," Kushina assured him, squeezing him tightly. "You can speak to Lord Hokage about your team in the morning. For now," she leaned forward -one arm curling around his neck and resting against his chest to feel his fluttering heartbeat- her breath hot against his ear as she whispered, "You just need to relax."
He allowed her to help him rise to his feet, then turned, pressing his mouth firmly against her mouth. "I can relax later," he said, pulling back. "Right now, I think it's high-time we caught up."
Minato didn't resist as the fiery red-head all but dragged him into the bedroom they shared.
OoOoOo
Obito woke up, drenched in a cold sweat. He scowled in disgust; this was the third time that night he had been plagued by nightmares. Being crushed by a rock...Watching Kakashi accidentally impaling Rin...Murdering Kakashi...
The parts about Rin were the worst. He could feel the warm stickiness of her blood on his hands as he cradled her body. If he had only been a few seconds faster, he could have stopped Kakashi. They could have gotten her to Master Minato, and he could have fixed her seal...
His train of thought came to a screeching halt. How could he be seeing all of this in such vivid detail? His imagination had never been all that acute; hell, he usually just superimposed people he knew from his real life whenever he needed a face to go with a character from a book.
Then why did he feel every shattered bone in his right arm? How could he remember every speck of dirt and blood on Rin's face? How could he see the way the moonlight glimmered off of the necklace he had given her prior to the mission where he'd been so grievously injured? Naruto had only told him the just of what happened, he had never mentioned any of that. Of course not, how could he have known?
The door to his room flew open, banging off the wall. Obito's musings were cut short as he leapt into action without a thought. He flung his pillow overhand towards the entrance, rolling off to the side to avoid a volley shuriken. He could see a shadow dashing towards him, and Obito grabbed the only weapon he could find, his reading lamp.
The thing was old, and had seen better days. The cord was frayed, and he had long-since misplaced the shade. The cord yanked taut as he swung, but didn't come free of the socket. The bulb shattered upside his assailant's head, imbedding shards of glass and tungsten into his skin. Obito's follow up blow caught him on the uninjured side of his face, breaking the lamp's base, which Obito caught; he allowed the stem and what remained of the bulb to drop.
His opponent crumpled, but another followed just behind. Obito raised his hand, catching the blow that had been aimed at his nose, then brought up his foot and planted it in the other person's gut, who let out a very male grunt. As the man stumbled back, Obito looped the cord around his index finger and yanked it free of the base. The attacker was already back on the offensive, but was forced to pause as Obito flung the lamp's base towards him.
The brief pause was all the Uchiha needed: he brought the cord's uninsulated tip up and jammed it under the other man's jaw. His muscles seized, and he stumbled backwards into the wall; cheap plaster gave way, allowing the man to tumble out of sight.
The razor edge of a kunai was pressed into the base of his skull as an opponent he hadn't seen took advantage of his unguarded back. "Oh boy, the higher-ups are going to have some questions for you."
"More than you know, little girl." Obito's voice was far deeper than that of a normal teenager. He stepped backwards into the blade, drawing a gasp from the woman behind him as her knife vanished into his skull. He slammed his elbow into her belly, knocking the wind out of her lungs.
She folded at the waist, arms cradling her stomach, as she tried to regain her breath. She stumbled back until she bumped into the door, then slid to floor; her mouth open and gasping like a fish that had been washed ashore.
Obito advanced towards the incapacitated woman, grabbed her upper arm, and pulled her harshly to her feet. With his other hand, he snatched the plain white mask off of her face. "Ah," he said, his voice still terrifyingly baritone. He dropped the mask -the porcelain shattering when it hit the ground- and moved her bangs out of her eyes. "Another Uchiha, I see."
The woman couldn't tear her eyes away from his. His eyes were different, but they were definitely Sharingan. "W-who are you?"
"My name is Madara Uchiha," he grinned, his crimson eyes squinting with mirth.
OoOoOo
Obito's eyes scanned the streets as he followed behind the Uchiha woman, looking for any signs of an ambush. The change in his voice had taken him by surprise at first, bur soon everything came rushing back to him. The dreams had seemed so real, so visceral, because they weren't dreams at all. They were memories. His memories.
He was the Obito Uchiha that Naruto had saved from being crushed by that rock that day; but he was also not that Obito Uchiha. He not only knew of his mistakes Naruto told him about, he had been the one to make them. Conversely, he also wasn't the one who had done those things. With the arrival of the other Obito's soul, Obito saw how he had gotten here. Hitching a ride within the threads of Flagg's jacket had been dangerous, but had worked. His soul, free of the Reaper, had immediately sought out his body; which existed, it just happened to already be occupied.
It was all extremely confusing, and he could feel the two alternate perceptions of memory clashing with one another, threatening to drive him mad. The only reason he was functioning right now was because he had allowed the new consciousness to take over most of his cognitive mind during the fight. Accepting it was the only option he had right now, he would argue with himself over it later.
"We're here," the woman's voice wavered, the fear easily heard.
"Thank you, child," the teenaged boy said to the grown woman with no trace of humor in his voice. Her name came to his mind from the new consciousness. "Now run along, Mikoto, this isn't a place for you right now."
A startled gasp ripped out of her throat. She had never said her name, and it was clear this has intimidated her even more. "Yes, sir." She turned, her gaze locked straight ahead, and marched away with her hands swinging machine-like at her sides.
Obito opened the door, strolling inside without any token effort to announce his approach. He kept walking until he had reached the center of the Uchiha elders' council room. When he stopped walking, dozens of torches burst into flame, bathing the room in an orange glow. There was a long table before him, with half a dozen Uchiha with gray hair staring at him.
"Obito Uchiha, do you know why you have been summoned here," the one to the far-left asked, the flames of the torches flaring higher with every syllable.
If he was impressed by their show of power, the young Uchiha didn't show any sign. Indeed, it was the elders that looked startled when his gravelly voice filled the chamber. "Your courier told me that it was an attempt to, how did she put it..." he paused and snapped his fingers, "Put the fear of God into him. If the boy that was Obito Uchiha still existed, I'm sure your plan would have worked, but seeing as he's dead and gone..."
This time it was the one to the far left that spoke. "What do you mean?" he asked sharply.
Obito chuckled, fixing the man with a look that put his Sharingan on full display, their crimson glow cutting through the dimness. "Though I wear his skin, the man standing before you is not Obito Uchiha." He grinned, teeth flashing orange in the firelight. "I am Madara Uchiha, and I've come back to take control of the Uchiha clan."
"Boy, I don't know what made you choose a time such as this to play a prank; but I assure you that if you do not end the charade and straighten up, I'll personally be the one to court martial you and throw you in jail."
Obito took a step towards the table, and three guards with glowing Sharingan immediately appeared in front of the elders, swords brandished. "Halt."
He ignored them, heading directly towards the elder who had last spoken. One of the guards shot forward, bringing his sword down in a deadly arch towards the junction of Obito's shoulder and neck. Instead of the satisfying feeling of metal slicing flesh, the guard felt nothing but air as his blade passed through Obito's apparently astral form. He lost his balance, cried out in surprise, then stumbled forward and fell.
"Boy?" Obito growled as he reached the elder's place at the table. Behind him, the guards were staring in muted shock, not yet having comprehended what they'd seen. He reached over the table, snagging the man by his throat and lifting him up into the air. "Look into my eyes, old man, what do you see?" His Sharingan glowed menacingly in the dim room, their unnatural shape drawing a startled look of recognition from his captive.
The guards chose this moment to leap into action. Obito hardly glanced in their direction; dropping the elder, he spun around and back-handed the one coming at him from the left. He crouched, passing one of the two kunai – which he'd snatched out of the holster of the man he'd slapped before- into his free hand. Both arms snapped out, sending the deadly steel whistling through the air. Both passed within a fragment of a centimeter of either remaining guards' throats.
Instead of striking the guards attacking him, the knives sailed into shadows that clung to the walls. They struck the wood with a clunk, and couple of hidden ninja cursed as they were pinned to the wall by the fabric of their uniforms. A few experimental tugs made it clear that the weapons weren't coming out of the wood. What was worse, their uniforms were now refusing to tear.
The two guards on either side of Obito lunged for him; passing through him as if he wasn't even there. As they passed, he hooked an arm around each of their necks; and suddenly all three shinobi vanished. There was a tense silence when nobody moved. Sweat stood out, shining sickly on the forehead of the elder who still lay on the table.
The air shimmered, and Obito reappeared, his arms folded across his chest. "Are we done?"
Sitting up from his position on the table, the elder who had seen Obito's Mangekyo eyes, climbed to his feet and bowed. It was clear now that he was the oldest, and his word likely carried the most weight; the others saw his actions, and immediately scrambled to copy him. "Yes, Lord Madara. You have proven your identity; we are at your service."
OoOoOo
Rin flipped a page in the book she was reading, her eyes scanning the words with the sluggish pace of someone who couldn't care less about what happened in the story. She had asked the nurse to bring her something to occupy her time, but words couldn't describe steaming pile that was the book she'd been given. Seriously, a story where vampires didn't burst into flames when exposed to sunlight?
The brunette sighed in disgust, giving the reading up as a bad job and tossed the book unceremoniously to the side. She shifted around for a few seconds, pulling down the gown that had bunched up uncomfortably around her armpits. One hand rose to touch her wired jaw tenderly. After spending several hours on the operating table, the lower half of her head ached horribly. Rin stared up at the ceiling for a while, her hands folded in her lap and her thoughts wandering.
Her eyes fell to the vase of purple and red flowers that sat next to her bed. Obito had brought them to her during visitation hours that morning, along with a little seashell and a hand-made card. Rin didn't remember ever telling him that she collected seashells, but it could very well have come up at one point or another. She reached out and picked up the card, scanning the words for the fourth time. Anyone who knew the young Uchiha would have thought his hand writing would be horrible, but he had some of the easiest to read script she'd ever seen.
Hurry up and get better, Rin! The village is a whole lot darker when you're not there to brighten it up with your smile!
That second line always made her feel warm inside. Obito was such a good friend.
The door to her hospital room was thrown open without so much as a knock. A stern-looking woman with long blonde hair strode in, a clipboard swinging at her side. "Rin Nohara?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the prone girl.
Rin nodded, making an affirmative sound somewhere low in her throat. Something about this woman was familiar...
The blonde stepped towards her, reaching out and gently grasping Rin's mouth. "Hold still," her voice was soft, but firm, and halted Rin's reflexive jerk.
The woman's hand began to glow, and Rin could feel the wires surrounding her teeth heat slightly and become malleable. The doctor -for that is what she certainly must be- gently pried Rin's mouth open, giving the dental work an appraising look.
Clucking her tongue, the woman shook her head. "They did a good job on your teeth, but whoever fixed you up didn't know a whole lot about the muscles in the jaw." She slowly pulled her hand back, one slender finger sliding along the curved of her patient's jaw bone.
As the woman's finger trailed over her skin, Rin could feel the wire sliding painlessly out from around her teeth as it was drawn from her mouth.
When she had pulled all the way back, she had a long strand of perfectly straight wire hanging from the tip of her finger. The doctor leaned over, tossing it into medical waste bin next to Rin's bed.
Rin, for her part, looked shocked. Nothing particularly astounding had happened, but without the wire to hold it closed, her mouth had dropped open. When the blonde straightened, she held up her hands for Rin to see. Both of them were glowing a brilliant blue color.
"Take a deep breath," the medic ordered. Once Rin had obeyed, she added, "Now hold it." She brought her hands up and grasped the either side of Rin's face, allowing her chakra to seep into and permeate the flesh and bone.
Rin could feel the chakra buzzing around under her skin. The sensation wasn't exactly unpleasant, but something about it was unnerving. It almost felt like there were dozens of tiny little insects skittering around inside of her mouth. At the same time, the fire that had been burning in her jaw for the past few days was flickering and dying.
A few seconds passed before the woman leaned back, looking expectant. "Well, how do you feel?"
"Much better." The words were out her mouth before she realized she was speaking. She smiled, "Wow, that's amazing!" Her hand came up and poked tentatively at the muscles of her jaw. "Thank you so much!"
The woman grinned, jotting down something on her clipboard. "You're welcome, kiddo. The damage was pretty extensive, I'm not surprised that even the best medic in the Leaf couldn't patch you up. Since I left, the medical program has went right down the proverbial toilet."
"Since you left?" Realization dawned on Rin's face. "Wait a minute, that means you're-"
"That's right, kiddo. I'm Tsunade, the single greatest medic ninja this village has ever produced."
Rin had never thought to even meet the woman sitting next to her hospital bed, let alone be given her medical attention. "Oh, my... Lady Tsunade! It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance!" She made an awkward attempt to bow, but the effect was lessened by her being in bed. "You have been such an inspiration, and I've always wanted to speak with you."
Tsunade flapped her hand at the gushing kunoichi, stopping her from going off on a rant. "We'll have plenty of time to speak later. But first, you must answer a simple question." She paused, making sure that Rin wasn't about to go off again. "What is the purpose of a medical ninja?"
"To use medical ninjutsu in order to heal wounds and fight off infections during-"
Again, Tsunade cut her off with the wrist-flapping gesture. "If I wanted a definition from a book, I would have stopped by the library. Let me rephrase it. What is your purpose as a medic?"
"My...purpose?" Rin chewed on her bottom lip, searching for the words to answer the other woman.
"Is it really that hard of a question to answer?" Tsunade's voice carried a faint tone of disappointment.
Rin's hands balled into fists in the sheets of her bed. "My purpose as a medic-nin is to keep my friends and comrades alive!"
"Really? Even if you die in the process?" Tsunade leaned back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other. "Isn't the life of a medic worth more than the lives of a couple of soldiers?"
Rin ground her teeth together so hard that the other woman could hear it; it was a good thing that her jaw had already been repaired. When the brunette spoke, her voice carried both anger and conviction. "No, it's not. If I were to put myself above my teammates, the whole squad could be killed. I'm their first and last defense; I can't fill that role if I'm constantly flinching back."
Tsunade's teeth flashed in the barest of grins, before she leaned forward, using the table to help regain her footing. "I want you to report to training field seven tomorrow at five o'clock in the morning."
The young woman sitting in the hospital bed had been expecting a myriad of things to come out of the other woman's mouth: what she had just said, however, had never even crossed her mind. Could the renowned Lady Tsunade really be offering lessons to a clan-less chuunin? She tried to speak; opened her mouth, closed it, and then tried again. To anyone watching, she looked like a fish out of water. "Are...are you offering me an apprenticeship?"
The blonde woman scowled, shaking her head firmly. "No, but I am offering you a chance to earn an apprenticeship." She turned, waving the clipboard over her shoulder as she went. "Now go home and get some rest. You're gonna need it."
OoOoOo
"Are you sure about this, Kakashi? The life of an ANBU can be short and bloody." The Sandaime's voice was raspy, and dark bags hung under his eyes. He had obviously been in conference for the last several hours.
The silver-haired youth nodded, his mismatched eyes unwavering. "Yes, sir."
Hiruzen kept his gaze locked with Kakashi's for a long moment, searching. When he spoke, his tone was gentle, "I spoke with another young man from Team Minato earlier. This wouldn't have anything to do with what led to his resignation, would it?"
Kakashi was standing at attention, his hands clenched into fists at his side. "I have reason to question my leadership ability. I believe that the best place for me to be right now is somewhere that I can work to correct this short-coming. The ANBU Black Ops is the most rigorous corps in Konoha, at least as far as I know. If I am to learn to better myself, I can think of no better branch to join."
"And what led you to question your competency as a leader, my boy?"
The cords in Kakashi's neck stuck out as he clenched his jaw, visible even beneath his mask. "I almost left a comrade to die when it was well in my power to prevent it."
Hiruzen nodded, his gaze troubled, but made no other comment. He was silent for a while, then stamped a piece of paper. Sliding it into a manila envelope, he offered it to Kakashi. "I understand your desire to better yourself, Kakashi, but these papers aren't final until tomorrow afternoon. If you change your mind, come and speak to me." As the Jounin accepted the envelope, the Sandaime reached out and patted him reassuringly on the arm. "Your father would have been proud of you for the decision that you made."
Kakashi nodded, avoiding the older man's gaze.
"Dismissed."
The Sandaime stood, one hand falling to the small of his back and massaging a cramp that had started there. Team Minato had fallen apart, only the Nohara girl left out the blond's original three students. It was saddening, but Hiruzen supposed that it was inevitable. No team lasted forever; with maybe the exception of the Ina-Shika-Cho squad. Such was the way of life: the students became the teachers of the next generation.
Besides, Hiruzen had a feeling that soon Minato would be far too busy to handle the responsibilities that came with micromanaging a squad.
A messenger hawk had arrived from Iwagakure early that morning. It used lots of fancy terminology and convoluted points to say something very simple: the Stone wanted to stop the fighting. Cut and dry, no reparations and no apologies. While he had no doubt that certain people -Danzo chief among them- would oppose such a treaty, Hiruzen knew that it was the best option. The Leaf's shinobi were tired, and they had lost enough of their brothers: The Third refused to put them through any more bloodshed.
Hiruzen knew that he would take flak for agreeing to Iwagakure's offer; in fact, he was likely to be taken out of office. That was fine by him, the village could use fresh leadership; and Minato would surely be willing to take up the mantle of Kage. He smiled, lighting a pipe as he looked out over his village; admiring the sunlight peeking over the horizon.
OoOoOo
Flagg writhed on the ground, his ghastly screams traveling for kilometers in every direction. His innards were burning as if on fire; for all he knew, they very well could be. Black smoke was still spurting from both his nostrils and his mouth, and he could feel his already crippled strength slowly diminishing further.
That bitch. That fucking bitch. She had maimed him. Who the fuck did she think she was?
The pain had faded slightly -or maybe he was beginning to grow used to it- and Flag managed to rise into a kneeling position. He braced one hand on a quivering knee, using it to push himself to his feet. He could feel it. The gaping hole where his core -his power- had been.
He slashed the air with his hand. Nothing happened. He repeated the movement, with the same results. A growl of rage rose from deep in his chest, turning into a scream as he tilted his head back up to the sky. He could no longer tear holes in the fabric of reality, which meant he was trapped in this adjacent realm. He was right next to where he wanted to be, and now he would never get there. "You fucking whore!"
A voice chuckled, and Flagg whirled around to see a small cloud of shadows floating a few feet off of the ground. "It seems," the cloud said, its voice filled with humor. "That you could use some help."
Flagg seemed to recognize the astral being, and he relaxed slightly. "So, you managed to hitch a ride with me, huh?"
More laughter. "Indeed. And if you can find me a body, I'll get you your power back."
Flagg grinned, fang like teeth blackened by smoke. "Really, and how do you plan on doing that?
Now the voice was slightly condescending. "You'll have to wait and see, my dear Walter.
OoOoOo
Tsunade lounged on a couch in Hiruzen's mansion, sipping a cup of sake. She cut her eyes to her right, taking a long look at the white-haired man sitting beside her.
He was giggling -his face flushed- as he scribbled away in a battered old notebook. She was pretty sure it was the same one he'd had since they were genin. She rolled her eyes. "What the hell are you writing in that thing, Jiraiya?"
"Oh, you know," he began, looking up from his work. "Just recording the results of my research."
Tsunade let loose a long-suffering sigh, shaking her head. "You're like a kid. When are you going to stop peeping?"
"Once you start letting me look at you." Grinning cheekily, Jiraiya mimed ripping open his shirt and shaking his chest back and forth.
The blonde was gearing up to knock him down when a voice distracted her. "Jiraiya's an idiot already. Giving him brain damage won't do any good, dear Tsunade; in fact, you might make him worse."
She turned to look at her other teammate. Orochimaru hadn't said much since he had walked in a few minutes earlier; not surprisingly, he'd always been quiet. More so, since his wife died two years earlier. Tuberculosis was bad under normal circumstances, but with her genetic disorder working against her as well, Aya's debilitation had been quick and gruesome. Orochimaru hadn't taken the loss well.
Tsunade looked as if she was about to argue, then shrugged, nodding. "I guess you're right, Oro. Not to mention, if I put him in the hospital, I'd have to see him tomorrow."
Jiraiya licked his lips. "I wouldn't mind. Those nurses have humongous-"
The Sandaime, who had appeared in the doorway in time to hear the beginnings of Jiraiya's rant, cleared his throat rather loudly. "Judging by Lady Tsunade's coloring, my boy, I would suggest you derail your current train of thought."
Jiraiya glanced sideways at the blonde, who had indeed colored a unique shade of red, and closed his mouth with an audible click. "Of course, sensei," he said, his lips hardly moving.
Tsunade nodded sharply, moving her eyes away from her sweating teammate. "What did you call us here for, sensei?"
"Advice," Hiruzen answered, striking a match to light his pipe.
"Advice?" Jiraiya asked, clearly confused. "What do you mean? You're the Hokage and our teacher; how could we give you advice."
The Sandaime took a long drag off his pipe, then slowly let the smoke out through his nose. "But I'm still a human, son. I can make mistakes, and I want a fresh set of minds to help me decide what to do. You three are the brightest people I know."
"What about the council?" Tsunade asked. "Isn't that what they're for?"
"I believe that sensei is concerned about the...neutrality of the council. Fears that would be well founded," Orochimaru spoke up, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
Hiruzen grimaced, taking the stem of the pipe from between his lips. "So, you found something, did you?"
Orochimaru nodded, ignoring the confused expressions of his fellow sannin. "Danzo intends to use the fallout from your treaty with the Stone to wrest the title of Hokage from you. Should he fail, his contingency is to nominate me, in hopes that he can manipulate me from the shadows."
"Does he now?" Hiruzen asked. He laughed heartily, turning his head towards the ceiling. His laughter petered out, and he wiped a tear from his eye, smiling from ear to ear. "My, my, he does think highly of himself."
"Indeed," Orochimaru agreed, wearing a considerably smaller -but no less genuine- smile.
"Are either of you going to actually explain what it is you're talking about?" Tsunade growled, pouring a fresh cup of sake.
Hiruzen rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I apologize. I forgot that the two of you hadn't been informed about the recent goings on in the village."
"Well, we haven't been in the village for over a year," the Toad Sage pointed out.
"Of course. To make a long story short, I've had Orochimaru working undercover as Danzo's apprentice. I had reason to suspect that Danzo was planning a coup."
"Suspicions that I proved to be true," Orochimaru piped in, proffering a bulging manila envelope to the Hokage. "Now that I've gotten you your intel, sensei, I formally request to be withdrawn from my mission. The slippery old badger gives me a headache whenever he opens his fool mouth, and the research he has me conducting is repulsive."
Hiruzen accepted the envelope, not deigning to examine its contents yet, and stowed it in his robes. "Granted," he answered immediately. "You can go back to your true research whenever you like."
"You have my thanks, teacher."
"Ooh, you conduct research, too?" Jiraiya asked, punching his teammate in the shoulder. "What's your area of study? Favorite bathhouse?"
The sound of Tsunade grinding her teeth -and with it, any warning Jiraiya would have received- was drowned out by Orochimaru's answer. "It's seals, if you must know. In regard to your second question, Toriyama's Spring; though I don't think I frequent the bathhouse for the same reason you do, Jiraiya."
Jiraiya's response was cut off by Tsunade's fist connecting rather violently with the back of his head. "I've heard enough out of you, you damn pervert!"
"Hey!" Jiraiya cried indignantly, holding his hands gingerly over the rising lump on his head.
"Enough," Hiruzen admonished, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Danzo's treachery is not the reason I summoned you three here. Before I go any further, I must ask: Do any of you three wish to take up the mantel of Hokage?"
"No way."
"Hell no! Are you crazy?"
"No."
Hiruzen nodded. "I expected as much. I've never sensed any such ambition in any of you. Still, the offer is open until the tomorrow night. Should you change your mind, come to me and I'll make sure you get the position." He paused, inverting his pipe over an ashtray. He flipped it right ways up, and began filling it with fresh tobacco as he spoke. "With that in mind, I would like your opinions on Minato Namikaze."
Jiraiya let out a whoop, jumping to his feet and pumping his fist in the air. "Hell yeah! The little guy made it! I knew he could do it!"
Hiruzen smiled, striking a match with his thumbnail. "I knew he would have your endorsement." The air filled with the scent of sulfur, and he held the match into the bowl of his pipe as he inhaled deeply.
Tsunade pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. "He's a bright one; a trait he certainly didn't pick up from this doofus. But, he's still very young. Are you sure he's ready for such a position?"
"You are right, he is rather young; but I think that is one of his best qualities. He has a fresh way of looking at things, something this village is in dire need of right now. As far as experience goes, I've never seen a faster learner than he."
Tsunade nodded, shrugging her shoulders. "Fair points."
"What about you, Orochimaru?" Hiruzen asked.
Orochimaru was silent for over a minute, his eyes staring forward. When he spoke, his words were chosen carefully. "Minato has proven himself on countless missions. He has, more than once, led severely outnumbered forces against the enemy. To my knowledge, each time, he has lost fewer than half a dozen men." Orochimaru paused. "As far as age goes, I've met plenty of elders who were dumber than rocks, so I don't think how many birthdays he's had makes much of a difference." Orochimaru leaned back into the couch, folding his arms over his chest. "He's a fine shinobi. You'll have no argument from me."
"Very well, I thank the three of you for your considerations." Hiruzen chewed on the stem of his pipe for moment longer. "It won't be official until the council has heard my case, but I don't believe it will take too much convincing to put young Minato into the Hokage's seat."
OoOoOo
Obito managed to clear up the situation with the elders faster than he could have hoped, but he knew that he was still cutting it dangerously short. Even as he spoke, berating the old men for their half-baked plans and delusions of grandeur, he could feel the edges of his mind fraying.
Future Obito's control was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Unlike Naruto's minor manipulations during the battle against the Iwa jounin, this felt almost intrusive. Naruto's modifications to his fighting ability had been gentle; mere suggestions. This...was something more. Present Obito -the one who hadn't been crushed- felt as if he was drowning, and he couldn't speak a word.
He had left, giving them strict orders to dissolve any plans they had to overthrow the Senju influence that plagued the village. This matter would require delicacy, and he would be damned if he would allow one of their half-baked schemes to come between him and his rise to power. He had also told them not to announce his return as of yet. He wanted to observe the goings-on of the village from obscurity before launching the attack that would return the Uchiha to their rightful place of power.
Even as he stepped out of the door, he could feel the aching in his skull getting even stronger. There wasn't enough room for two separate entities in one body. Either one of them had to go...
His apartment was in sight when the first seizure struck. Obito felt his muscles seize, and he tipped over into the dirt of the street. His teeth clamped together, severing the tip of his tongue and filling his mouth with the taste of copper. He flopped around in the dust and trash of the Konoha alley, his eyes rolling wildly in their sockets. The seizing Uchiha was vaguely aware of losing control of his bladder.
After what seemed like hours, the agony ceased. He hauled himself to his knees, moaning low in his throat. Luckily, it was still very early in the morning; as far as he could tell, no one had noticed his episode. Obito slowly regained his footing, and began a shuffling walk towards his apartment door; the fabric of his pants sticking uncomfortably to his thighs, and blood dribbling out of the corners of his mouth.
He hadn't been aware of just how hot he'd become until he stepped into the air conditioned living room of his home. Hopefully the debilitated attackers from earlier had woken up and found their way out; he didn't think he could handle them now.
Obito stumbled into the bathroom, stripping his filthy night shirt off and letting it fall to the floor. Before he'd had time to take off his soiled pants, the urge to puke washed over him, too strong to ignore. He collapsed in front of the toilet, quickly divulging the meager contents of his stomach into the bowl. His stomach acid burned as it flowed over his damaged tongue, inflaming the tender flesh even further. He regurgitated everything he'd eaten over the last day, as well as quite a bit of sick that he didn't remember eating. When he was finished, Obito's skin shone gray in the fluorescent light.
He closed the lid, flushing the toilet and laid his sweat-soaked head against the cool porcelain. It took over a minute before he had steeled himself to rise to his feet, and when he did, his eyes met his reflection's. He was suddenly sure that the Obito staring back at him was the one from Naruto's dimension. Or was he that Obito, and the one staring at him the one from this dimension?
His vision swam, and Obito had to brace himself against the wall. Pausing briefly to right himself, Obito's hands fell to his belt and struggled to release it. After several seconds of fumbling with the buckle, he managed to get it undone. He pulled down his damp pants and boxers, the legs of which caught on his sandals.
He cursed, jumping up and down as he struggled to get the pants over his shoes. He finally managed, though the process took entirely too long. He had to stop, bent over at the waist, as he tried to catch his breath. After a moment, he stumbled over to the tub, turning the knob for the hot water and letting out a sigh of relief. The sound of his shower starting was the most beautiful thing he'd heard all day. He jumped in, not giving the water time to warm up. The frigid water woke him up, like a jolt of adrenaline surging through his veins.
Obito had a moment of clarity; he understood what had to be done. Right now there were two versions of the same person struggling to find harmony. If things kept going the way they were, the best Obito could hope for was insanity. The only way he could hope to get out of this with any sense of himself left, was to combine the two identities. The younger Obito didn't know much about matters of the mind; luckily for him, decades of the older Obito's life had been spent studying a great deal of forbidden ninja techniques.
It was as he thought this that the second seizure struck. He flung out one hand, seeking to steady himself. His fingers curled around the curtain, which pulled free from the walls as he fell forward and out of the tub. His head banged against the counter, and stars danced before his eyes. The throbbing in his head somehow got even worse.
He lay in the floor of his bathroom: for how long, he didn't know. He listened to flowing water of the shower. He could also hear the couple that lived above him arguing over where they would be going for breakfast that morning. He thought her argument for steak and potatoes was very convincing.
The black-haired boy managed to sit up, shoving the shower curtain off to the side. He reached out, finding the edge of the counter, and hauled himself up once again. He briefly examined his reflection. His temple was bleeding profusely, but that was all. At least he'd managed to avoid pissing himself a second time.
Obito left his clothes on the floor, moving at an unsteady shamble as he went to his dresser. He didn't bother drying off, instead simply throwing on the first articles he pulled from his drawers. He wasn't too concerned with making a fashion statement at the time.
He walked over to his bed, climbing up to sit on it with his legs crossed beneath him. The young man clenched his eyes shut, doing his best to focus inward. Alright, you traitorous bastard, show that trick you were talking about.
A voice answered; his own, but deeper and weary with years. Of course, brat. I exist to serve. Brace yourself, though, I've only read about this process. One doesn't get many chances to test something like this.
OoOoOo
Rin Nohara trudged through the midday throng of people that choked the main street of the village hidden in the leaves, her arms hanging limply at her sides. There wasn't a part on her body that wasn't aching horribly. She had never imagined training with the Slug Princess could be so demanding.
Her hair was puffed out in a cloud around her head, the effects of one of Tsunade's more refined taijutsu/ninjutsu combinations; and she was still sopping wet from where the blonde had knocked her into the pond at the beginning of the session. This was in addition to the countless bruises that riddled her body, all of which she had been forbidden from healing on her own. Tsunade was apparently taking Rin's ineptness with taijutsu and turning it into a lesson in pain tolerance.
After Rin had been soundly beaten in several rounds of taijutsu 'testing', they had moved on to the medical portion of her evaluation. In this, at least, Rin thought she had made a good case for her apprenticeship. Many of her techniques were rough around the edges, as was often the case with medics who had received the majority of their training in the field. Tsunade said it was clear that she could get the job done, and with a little instruction, she could do so with a little bit more finesse.
In the end, Tsunade had judged Rin fit to be her apprentice, a fact that the young woman was still getting used to. Their taijutsu sessions would continue; they would meet at five o'clock every morning and train until eight. While she had been given today off, starting tomorrow, she would spend the rest of her day in the hospital, helping Tsunade get the copious amount of injured ninja back on their feet. It was because of this, Tsunade told her, that Rin would be taken out of active duty.
That wasn't something Rin had been happy with. She was combat medic, her place was out in the field, making sure that the memorial stone wouldn't be decorated with any more names. Especially not Kakashi's or Obito's. She had argued this point with Tsunade, and the Sannin had argued back. Rin was beginning to raise her voice -something that almost never happened- when Minato arrived.
His tone had been light, but it was clear to Rin that her sensei was more than a little stressed. He said that he'd recommended her to Tsunade due to her performance on their last mission. He'd also told her that both Obito and Kakashi had accepted positions outside of their four-man cell. What was more, that the Hokage had struck a deal with the Stone to cease fire, and that her skills would now be best put to use in the hospital.
At the time, Rin had been too astonished to say much of anything; but now that she was by herself, and had time to think about what was said, she was fuming. Her teammates had accepted new positions, and they hadn't even told her? They were a team, didn't her opinion matter?
It was at that moment that she spotted one of the sources of her anger. She marched towards the dark-haired youth, ignoring the startled looks from the civilians around them as she called, "What the hell, Obito?" She was so focused on her anger that she failed to notice his disheveled clothes, or the way his eyes were casting desperately around the street.
Obito turned around, coming face to face with the brunette. His eyes widened, almost looking like dinner plates, and before Rin could begin her rehearsed rant, the Uchiha had folded her into a bone-crushing embrace, pinning her arms to her sides. She squeaked as he clutched her to his chest, actually lifting her feet up off the ground.
"O-Obito!?" It was then that she realized that the young man was crying, and her shock morphed into concern. "Obito, what's wrong?"
He set her down, cupping her face with his hands. "You were dead," he whispered, his voice watery. "But not now. Not this time. You're alive!"
"Of course I'm alive. Obito, you're not making any-" Before she could finish, her teammate did something that forced her to fall silent.
Obito Uchiha kissed her.
OoOoOoOoOo
Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please let me know what you think...The review box is right there...Just keep scrolling, click on it, and type a few words...Then hit submit, that's a very important step!
