Disclaimer: The usual one
Gohan snapped awake and sat bolt upright. The world was dark around him and the normally hot and dry desert air was now cold and dry desert air. He'd fallen asleep without realizing it. He had been in Sunagakure for close to two days now and had hardly slept at all, had hardly eaten…
As if to remind him of that fact, his stomach let off a rumble like thunder.
For once it was ignored.
He was in the waiting room of the Suna hospital, where he'd taken up practically permanent residence after seeing his father. He would have started sleeping in the same room, but Sakura had almost physically thrown him from the room.
"Gohan, you're getting in my way!" She'd snapped when she'd had to shove him aside for the umpteenth time. "Get out and do something or I'm going to make you!" Gohan, having learned long ago never to risk a nurse's fury, had left meekly and quietly. He stood and wandered up the stairs to his father's floor and found himself standing outside Goku and Kankuro's room.
Light still spilled from the other side of the door, so he cracked it open cautiously. The interior was still a hive of activity. Gohan couldn't see much from his vantage point, only Goku's sheet-covered legs and feet and the doctors surrounding him and, further back, Kankuro.
"The waiting is the worst part."
Gohan whirled. Baki stood behind him. When the jounin had come up behind him Gohan didn't know, but he'd done so stealthily that Gohan hadn't had even an inkling that he was there. "Baki," Gohan murmured. They were talking in hushed tones so as not to disturb the medical types inside.
"I lost a lot of friends in the war," Baki went on, looking much less frosty than he usually did. He looked surprisingly gentle without the constant iron expression he wore. "Can't tell you how many times I've stood here and wondered if they were going to die."
"It's worse when it's a family member," Gohan replied.
"It is," Baki agreed. "Kankuro may not be my kid but all of them, Gaara, Temari, Kankuro, they as good as are. They've got no one but each other, even before their dad died. And now two of them are in danger. Kankuro may die before the week is out and Gaara's been captured by Akatsuki."
"How did that happen, anyway?" Gohan asked, voicing something that had been on his mind ever since he'd known that the Kazekage had fallen. "Gaara's strong. I know that from experience and my Dad's one of the strongest warriors alive. How were they taken down by two other guys?"
"Your father was doing well by all accounts," Baki replied. "He had Deidara, one of the Akatsuki, on the defensive and there was nothing that Deidara could do to stop him. He was attacked from behind, while his attention was elsewhere. Unfortunately, Akasuna no Sasori has always been fond of his blades and poisons."
"And Gaara?"
"Gaara and Kankuro were facing Sasori on top of the plateau. No one saw what transpired, before or after their defeat. The only one who knows for sure is Kankuro and he's in no shape to be answering questions."
"I wish I could do something," Gohan fumed, clenching his fists until Baki could hear flesh creaking.
"Don't you know where they went?" Baki asked. "I was under the impression that you could sense presences, like a sensory ninja."
"They're hiding their presences. Most shinobi do it as a reflex I've noticed."
"Paranoia keeps a man healthy, wealthy, and alive," Baki said with a nod. "A perimeter guard reported in. Your friends will be here in the morning. The team is escorting them in. Temari is with them as well. Thought you would want to know."
Gohan nodded and the jounin walked off. Gohan returned his attention to the door and threw the thought of Sakura's wrath to the winds and opened the door. Sakura, it seemed, had succumbed the lure of sleep as well. She was sprawled in a chair in a position that only the most charitable of souls would describe as comfortable.
Sure enough, she winced when Gohan shook her awake.
"Gohan?" she asked, blinking sleep from her eyes. She bit back a yawn and failed miserably. "What time is it?"
"Almost two in the morning," he answered. "Baki just came to see me. Naruto and Kakashi will be here in a few hours." Sakura was busy yawning again and could only nod. Gohan turned his attention to his father. Goku's condition, at least to Gohan's untrained eyes, looked unchanged. "Any luck?" he asked, dreading the answer, watching somberly as the doctors worked to keep Goku alive.
"Closer than I was a few days ago," Sakura replied, standing and stretching. "Your dad's made of some tough stuff. He's hanging on a lot better than Kankuro is at least."
"Sakura," Gohan said, turning to her. "I want a straight answer, no doctor bullshit." Sakura blinked at Gohan's swearing. It was something the normally soft-spoken young man did only in combat. "What are their chances?"
"Kankuro is fifty-fifty," Sakura replied wearily. "He's been getting most of the attention because he's worse off than your father. Goku, on the other hand, is probably closer to sixty-forty."
"Not much better."
"Ten percent makes the difference," Sakura countered. "That was something Tsunade-shishou hammered into me from day one. 'One percent makes all the difference in the world' she said." She stepped up to Goku's side and relieved a medic. The relieved doctor stumbled over to the chair Sakura had vacated and was dead to the world before he'd even touched the chair. Sakura continued to talk to Gohan as she worked. "We've managed to extract most of the poison from their systems. The real problem is what's left. That's what's killing them and it's already in their cells and organs where we can't get to it."
"What about an antidote?"
"Chiyo, the old lady we met when we got here, is working on it. She's one of Suna's best healers. I sent a messenger hawk to Tsunade-shishou asking for her advice a few hours into the first day. I still haven't heard back from her. We're working on it, Gohan. That's the best promise I can give you."
Gohan had to force himself out the door so he didn't start hovering again.
"Mr. Piccolo! Hey!"
The Namekian in question felt his concentration break and fall away. He suppressed a flash of annoyance. Shuu had come to visit yet again. It wasn't so much that Piccolo minded the kid and his constant chatter. It was actually one of the better things about the nameless village he currently found himself in. Shuu could work on his timing though. He always seemed to interrupt right in the middle of Piccolo's meditations, right when he was getting in touch with the flow of his ki and that of the world around him.
It was this constant interruption that had prompted Piccolo to tell the kid his name, but it had only increased the kid's voracious appetite for knowledge about the unusual visitor to the usually sleepy town. Usually Shuu's grandfather, Shunsui, would pick that time to yell at his grandson to get on with some chore or other. Most of the villagers, men and women both, worked in the mine. Those left in town were either too old to work, in the case of Shunsui, or to young, in the case of Shuu. That didn't mean Shuu was free to do whatever he pleased. He spent most of his days running around, tending to this elder or that elder, and helping with chores, cleaning, and other menial tasks.
Shunsui was something of an apothecary and could frequently be seen stumping around the village, cursing and muttering under his breath. To Piccolo, he was frigidly impolite at best and downright caustic at worst. The rest of the villagers gave the Namekian a wide berth. Maybe it was his demonic appearance or perhaps it was the corded muscles that rippled under Piccolo's green skin. Or maybe, and this was just an educated guess on Piccolo's part, it was the glare he fixed on every person who came too close.
Only Shuu ignored it. Shunsui just didn't care.
"Mr. Piccolo! I brought you some dinner!" Shuu set the plate with the food down. It wasn't exactly a noble's feast. The meal was water, some rough wheat bread, a few limp turnips, and some meat, probably a wild rabbit or some other game that someone had gotten lucky with. Maybe even Shuu.
"So what are you doing, Mr. Piccolo?" Shuu asked. That was only the first of a whole plethora of questions that Piccolo couldn't even begin to answer fast enough to keep up with the kid. He was a bundle of energy and it was a wonder that Shunsui could even keep track of the kid, much less get him to do any kind of task for any length of time.
"Shuu! Dammit boy, you've got chores to do and they don't include talking to the freak! Now get moving!"
"Okay Gramps!" Shuu laughed and scampered away. "Talk to you later, Mr. Piccolo!" The kid's name for Piccolo sent him back to another time, with another young kid who called him Mr. Piccolo. It brought a small smile to Piccolo's face.
"Gods be damned, he can smile!" Shunsui fumed coming over. "You think it's funny that them shinobi are going to come and kill you? Huh?"
"I'm hard to kill," Piccolo replied. This was pretty much his dialogue with Shunsui. Shunsui would say that the ninja would come to kill him and Piccolo would reply by saying that he was a tough one to kill.
"Get out of here, demon-man," Shunsui spat. "You're not welcome, you're not wanted, you're just going to be trouble. Now go on! Get!" He scooped up a rock and pitched it at Piccolo, the throw conspicuously underhand and with no real power. This too was part of Shunsui's attitude for Piccolo. He threatened, he blustered, he raged and he ranted, but all the while, he never made good on his threats and never remembered the bluster.
The rock landed a good three feet short of Piccolo and the old man stomped away, again muttering caustic remarks about anything that caught his fancy. Piccolo shook his head, ducking his chin to hide his smirk behind the high collar of his weighted training cloak.
Quiet fell over the village until evening when the miners returned to their homes. After that, the village came alive with the noise of people enjoying the little free time they had in between bouts in the mine. It wasn't long before Piccolo noticed that something was amiss. Shuu had gone into the forest several hours before to gather food.
Piccolo didn't remember the kid returning.
Most telling was the noticeable upswing in the ire of Shunsui. The old man was raising all kinds of hell, yelling at people for laughing to loudly, at a pair of the older teens who thought they were hidden in the shadows as they made out, and generally being a grumpy old man. The change was that this time his rage was real, his ire raised by the concern for his grandson.
"You! You damn demon-man! This is your fault! You brought this on him! Shuu is a good boy but he's too damn interested in you! Things were better before you showed up. I told you before that you're nothing but trouble! Get out! Go!" The tirade drew Piccolo hostile stares. The Namekian didn't do anything aside from shift his seat in the dirt a bit so he could shoot to his feet in a hurry.
Angry murmurs began to reach his ears and a mob began to form. They picked up old farming tools, they had no weapons, and Shunsui himself scooped up a rock and hurled it at Piccolo's face. The old codger's aim was impeccable this time and it would have hurt had Piccolo's hand not shot up at the last second and snatched the rock from the air.
The growing mob froze. Piccolo held out the hand with the rock, making eye contact with every villager, Shunsui included, until they avoided his gaze.
Piccolo crushed the rock like it was made of powder. The message was clear.
This could be you.
Then he stood up, shrugged once or twice to make sure the cape sat on his shoulders better, then walked towards the dimness of the surrounding woods. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" Shunsui shouted.
Piccolo didn't look back. "To find your grandson," he replied simply, then vanished into the trees.
"Pulse is dropping!"
"Blood pressure's falling fast!"
"Here's the antidote!"
"Give it to me, nownowNOW!"
Gohan burst into medical ward just in time to see Sakura plunge a needle filled with a greenish fluid into Kankuro's arm. The young Suna-nin was thrashing on his bed, the first movement that Gohan had seen from him since they'd arrived. Gaara's brother writhed and thrashed, screaming in a tone so anguished that Gohan felt empathic pain just from watching.
Doctors were screaming orders at nurses.
The heart monitor was beeping like crazy, an unnecessary alarm.
The plunger slid down the needle. Kankuro continued to thrash and scream for a moment or two more, then the antidote began to take effect and he subsided, sinking slowly onto his mattress, breath fogging the respirator that had been placed over his face. Sakura's hands glowed with soft healing light as she passed them up and down the incapacitated ninja.
Sweat was running down her face and she only wiped it away when she sat back with huff, sinking straight down to the floor. Gohan was by her side seconds later, offering a hand to help her up, which she took gratefully.
"What was that about?" Gohan asked.
"We almost lost him," Sakura wheezed. "I only just got done making the newest antidote when he started flaring up. Looks like the weaker the host is, the more potent the poison gets. It's a real nasty piece of work." She leaned on Gohan as she stumbled to the chair next to Goku's bed and sank down into it. She produced a second syringe and plunged it into Goku's arm. Goku inhaled sharply, his entire body clenching for a heart-pounding moment, then he relaxed, sighing heavily, as if setting down a heavy burden. His breath became less labored and color returned to his skin even as Gohan watched.
Gohan's knees went weak with relief. His butt hit the floor about the same time that Naruto, Kakashi, and Temari, who the other two had encountered on their way to Suna and informed of the situation, burst into the room. All three were winded and Naruto bent right over, wheezing.
"Kankuro!" Temari choked out, rushing to her brother's side. "You idiot!" she berated the unconscious boy. "You're always getting in over your head, you moron! Now look at yourself!" She launched into a rant that was fueled more by nerves than by any real anger and, predictably, it ended with Temari leaving the room to recover her poise and so the others wouldn't see the proud woman's tears.
The doctors began filing out one at a time, each one stopping to congratulate Sakura on her success. Her latest antidote had been nothing short of a WAG, a wild-ass guess. To everyone's surprise it worked!
Gohan struggled upright and caught Sakura up in a fierce embrace.
"Thank you, Sakura," he whispered in her ear. Sakura returned the hug.
"Anytime, Gohan." She turned to Kakashi and Naruto. "About time you got here," she said to her blond teammate. "I was beginning to think that you and Kakashi-sensei had gotten lost."
"Not for lack of trying, Sakura," Kakashi replied easily, smiling at her. His dark eye played over Goku and Kankuro. "I see that you managed to save Kankuro and Gohan's father."
"I got lucky," Sakura replied.
"Sometimes that's all you need," the jounin said. He was about to say more when Goku opened his eyes.
"Dad!" Gohan was at his father's side in a moment. "Dad, are you okay?"
"Gohan?" Goku wheezed, his voice weak. "When did you get here?" The mighty Saiyan struggled to sit up.
"Woah, easy!" Sakura yelped, pushing Gohan's father back down with a firm but gentle hand. "The antidote's cleaning out your system but until it's gone you're going to have a fever and shouldn't be moving much."
"What happened?" Goku asked.
"Akatsuki happened," Baki said, coming into the room. The jounin was moving with an animation that no one had seen in the dour man ever since this whole fiasco had started. "I heard from Temari that both Son Goku and Kankuro have been cured."
"They're not out of the woods yet," Sakura replied, "but I don't think we'll have to worry about them dying in their sleep now." She waved a hand at Goku. "Him least of all. It's a miracle he's even conscious right now, much less trying to sit up."
"I'm…stubborn like that," Goku muttered, drawing a laugh from Gohan. Sakura had to smile.
"I'm sorry to be so abrupt," Baki went on, not sounding very apologetic, "but do you remember anything about the battle, Goku-san?"
"Hey!" Sakura protested, "He's in no condition to be answering questions!"
"Baki's right, Sakura," Kakashi interrupted before she could go further into patient protection mode. "This is something that can't wait for their recovery to stabilize. Gaara's in trouble. He might even be dead already. We need any hint we can get."
"Sasori…"
Every eye in the room fixed on Kankuro, who was awake and watching them through pain-hazed eyes. "What are you two made out of?" Sakura wondered in surprise.
"Kankuro," Baki said gently. "How were you and Gaara defeated?"
The puppet user seemed to be having a hard time comprehending. He focused on nothing for a long silent moment before zeroing in on Baki again. "Aka…higi."
"Akahigi," Kakashi repeated softly. He glanced at Baki. "Mean anything to you?"
Baki nodded. "Sasori's puppet techniques. It's said that he used it once to conquer an entire country by himself."
"That's bull," Naruto laughed. "No one can take down an entire country by themselves!"
"Dad and I can each take out a planet," Gohan replied, frowning at Baki. "It's not like it's unbelievable."
"Fine," Naruto fumed. "Steal my fun."
"So this Sasori," Sakura broke in before Naruto could start arguing. "How dangerous is he? Really?"
"You have no idea, little girl."
Everyone turned. The speaker was Chiyo, the old lady who had insulted Sakura when she and Gohan had first arrived. The healer had been in and out the last few days, gathering ingredients for the antidote, helping out Sakura when she needed a rest, and generally being an able, if crotchety, assistant.
"Chiyo is Sasori's grandmother," Baki explained.
"You forget I practically raised him," Chiyo grumped. She was about to say more, but then she caught sight of Kakashi. "You!"
"Um," Kakashi said, unsure of how to react to the sudden hostility from an old lady. He settled for raising a cautious hand in greeting. "Hi?"
"Die you White Fang bastard!"
Chiyo charged, kunai in hand.
Shuu sprinted through the forest, feet pounding the ground hard enough to hurt, his breath catching in his throat. He was gasping for air, crying, and screaming all at the same time. And for good reason. He had a pack of ravenous wolves on his heels, almost literally.
It had been innocent enough. All he had been doing was gathering food for dinner when the wolves had come out of the shadows, with raised hackles and bared teeth. The entire pack had a scrawny, malnourished look about them, their normally well-muscled frames not much more than skin and bones now, tan and black coats matted with dirt and clumps.
Shuu had taken one look at them before running off.
Needless to say, they'd given chase.
Shuu stumbled and went down.
The lead wolf came at him, ivory teeth slavering in the light. "NOOOOOO!" Shuu screamed. He closed his eyes.
A wolf screamed in pain and Shuu heard it bouncing across the ground. Had it missed? He cracked an eye and found himself staring at the flapping fringe of a heavy-looking white cape. Shuu followed the cape up to the broad shoulders they sat on, and up from there up to the green-colored bull neck and pointed ears of someone that Shuu had come to think the world of lately.
"Mr. Piccolo!"
The wolves sniffed at the alpha male who had been the unlucky recipient of Piccolo's shin. The warrior's arms remained crossed over his chest. He only spared Shuu a glance to make sure that the kid was okay. A scratch here or there and he was missing a patch of cloth off the back of his trousers where a wolf had gotten a little too close, but other than that, he looked fine.
The pack turned back to Piccolo, throats vibrating with snarls. One snapped and charged. That set the rest off and on they came. Piccolo's legs were the only thing that moved as he kicked the animals around, one after the other, hopping over one and moving out the way of the others where it was required, but he never let them get anywhere near Shuu, who'd backed up against a tree.
In a few vicious seconds, the entire pack, more than six of the starving vicious beasts, lay whimpering at Piccolo's feet and the Namek hadn't even been touched.
"Wow," Shuu whispered in awe.
"You okay kid?" Piccolo asked gruffly. A wolf came to its feet, holding a rear leg off the ground. Its ruff came up. Piccolo glared and the wolf's threats died in its throat. "Beat it," he said simply.
The wolf pack turned and began to slink away, tails between their legs. They would find easier prey elsewhere. "Why are you here?" Shuu asked.
"Looking for you," Piccolo answered. "Your Grandpa's worried. Better get back to the village." Before Shuu could answer, a loud, arrogant voice called,
"Who hurt our dogs?"
Four men came out of the foliage. One was leading the injured wolf by the ear and the canine didn't look thrilled about it. It was thrashing and biting, paws throwing dirt every which way, until it caught sight of Piccolo. Then it started whining and crying, trying to run. "Did you do this?" One demanded of Piccolo.
Piccolo sized up the four men before him. They were dressed far differently from what the villagers were. Instead of rough spun tunics and trousers, these men wore skintight outfits with gray and black camouflage shirts over that. The shirts were long, hanging down to mid-thigh at least, tied off at the waist with leather belts. Each man also wore, somewhere on his person, a small band with a metal plate on it. Piccolo recognized the apparel immediately. Gohan had sported one tied around one arm when he'd come back from this world. The symbol was different though. Gohan's had been one of a stylized leaf.
This one was of a musical note. A different faction then, Piccolo realized.
"Well?" The first man demanded. "Did you do this?"
"What the hell is he?" one of the others muttered. "Did one of Orochimaru-sama's experiments get loose?"
Orochimaru? Piccolo thought, allowing only a small twitch to give away the face that he recognized the name. The one that gave Gohan all that trouble. He glanced back at Shuu, who looked terrified out of his mind at the appearance of the men. Piccolo's jaw clenched. This will be trouble too.
"Who cares? Hey! Freak! Did you hurt our dogs?"
"What's it to you?" Piccolo said.
"Oh ho! We got some spine in this one!" They drew weapons. "Do you know the penalty for resisting the duly appointed shinobi of Rice Country?"
"Mr. Piccolo," Shuu whimpered. "They're ninja! You can't beat ninjas! Grandpa Shunsui says so!" He tugged insistently at Piccolo's cape. "I want to go home!" That got Piccolo's temper up like nothing else. Shuu and Shunsui were a happy pair, Piccolo could see that. Even with all of Shunsui's surliness, which simply stemmed from an overprotective love for the boy. They deserved to live happily. Shuu needed to run around and play tag or something with other kids, not spend his days running around for food and from wolves, his only future being long stints in the mine.
Shuu also reminded Piccolo of Gohan when he was younger. Piccolo was very protective of Gohan, similar to the way Shunsui protected Shuu. Piccolo hated playing the hero, but if he didn't fight back, these men would kill him and probably either kill Shuu or torture him to make an example to the villagers of what the price of defiance was.
Of that Piccolo was certain. He had been evil once himself after all. It was what the old Piccolo would do. Had done. And would still be doing if Raditz and the Saiyan threat hadn't forced Piccolo to take on a young, unwanted apprentice.
The ninja grew tired of waiting.
"Kill him!" The leader shouted.
Piccolo's fist crashed into his stomach a heartbeat later, doubling the man over as Piccolo's heel slammed home into the man's skull, flinging him into the trees. A moment passed, then came the sound of a body hitting something hard.
In a flash, the other three had been hit by blows as well and they each hit the dirt or slammed into a tree trunk. The echoes of the first hit had yet to die away when the last man went to the ground.
The men were more resilient than they appeared to be. One remained motionless, but the other two got up, wincing and snarling, much like the wolves they had been using as hunting dogs or whatever the purpose of the pack had been.
"Y-you're a dead man…demon…thing," one gasped, clutching at his side. The threat breathed new life into the injured men. They believed that Piccolo was some kind of amateur, who would crumble at a threat. The man brought his hands together and folded them through a series of unusual signs.
Piccolo knew what this was as well.
"Katon!"
A firm hand clenched down on the shinobi's fingers, twisting painfully. The shinobi yelped as he stared into a pair of dark, angry eyes. "You can't do those techniques if you don't have fingers." Piccolo's elbow slammed the man into the black oblivion of unconsciousness before he could complete the technique. The last man stumbled backwards, eyes wide with fright. "W-what are you?"
Piccolo's fist clenched until his knuckles popped, the muscle in his arm bulged and the veins stood out in stark relief against his green skin. Then he smashed the enemy ninja into total blackness.
"Wow, Mr. Piccolo!" Shuu gushed. "That was amazing! How did you do that, grandpa told me that no one could beat shinobi, can you teach me, are you going to get rid of the ninja?" The kid was talking a mile a minute again, but Piccolo listened half-heartedly.
"Shuu," he said firmly, hauling the kid up by the arm and setting him on his feet, "get back to the village. Hurry."
"Why?" Shuu asked.
"One got away," Piccolo replied tersely. "I'll see if I can track him down. Go!"
Shuu paled as he realized the implications. Shuu was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them and he took off as fast as his legs could carry him. Piccolo turned back to the suddenly-foreboding forest and prepared himself for what was to come.
Deidara frowned as he felt something in the beak of his clay bird shift. Before he could say something to Sasori about it, sand exploded from the bird's mouth, spilling out everywhere, as if the bird was drooling. In another moment, the pressure became too much and the bird's head exploded, dropping clay, Deidara, Sasori, and Gaara to the ground. Both Akatsuki managed to make soft landings of the sudden plummet.
Below them, the very earth dissolved into a swirling whirlpool of sand that shot up and caught Gaara. The Kazekage was lowered softly to the earth.
"He's awake, Sasori," Deidara said cheerfully. "And it doesn't look like he's much of a morning person, huh?"
"Must be his demon clearing out the poison in his system faster than we thought."
"Isn't your poison supposed to stop that kind of thing?"
Gaara glared at them with one golden eye with a four pointed star for a pupil. His mouth split open into a drunken, leering grin that let out an equally unnerving giggle slide past his lips. "One little two little three dead shinobi," he sang laughingly.
"It's the Shukaku!"
"Woohoo!" Gaara howled, the sand erupting up as a massive geyser. When it died down, a massive sand raccoon, veined with purple lines had replaced the Kazekage. "When the brat's away the demon will play! I have to hand it to you bastards you know," the demon said. "You really gave my brat a time of it."
"How did you get loose," Sasori growled. "The Kazekage never let you out."
Shukaku laughed. "And that's where you're wrong, puppet man! The brat managed to use that forced sleep thing of his right before you hit him!"
Gaara skidded across the plateau. Right as the edge shot by beneath him, he lashed out with one chakra-enhanced hand and allowed his momentum to sling him back onto the rocky wall. He glanced over at Kankuro, who was down for the count it seemed, poisoned by some weird concoction that Sasori had whipped up.
"Impressive," Sasori said, sitting astride Hiruko. "You're lasting longer than most in the face of my Akahigi."
Surrounding Gaara were what seemed like hundreds of puppets, each one clattering and clacking. Gaara didn't know how the puppet master was controlling so many. Kankuro had once said that the max for any puppet user was ten, one for each finger. There were rumors of a master who used his toes as well, but that was an old urban legend in Suna.
Gaara waved his arms and shattered another few puppets with lashing tentacles of sand, but it was too few too late as they all surged forward as once. In response Gaara brought his fingers together into a jutsu he hated right as he was stabbed several different times from all directions.
Leaden heaviness and crippling pain washed through the Kazekage but as he slipped into blackness, he felt the jutsu finish. "Tanuki Neiri," he whispered before his eyes closed. Just as the world went away, he heard the thing inside him let out a gleeful whoop.
"Time to raise hell!" It cheered.
"And now here I am," The demon finished.
"It's been three days," Sasori said. "Why wait until now?"
"Well first," the demon answered, "I had to deal with that damn poison you put in me. That took awhile. Then I thought I could get away if I just played dead, but apparently you want my brat really freaking bad for some reason. And besides that, I'm bored! What good is it being allowed to run wild if I can't, you know, RUN WILD!" It leered at them. "So dance little men!" Its belly distended horribly. "Fuuton! Renkuudan!"
One massive claw hammered into its bloated belly. Shukaku exhaled a giant blast of wind at the two missing-nin.
I figured I had better get this out before Dawnguard comes out tomorrow for Skyrim otherwise it'll never get done.
Glossary
Tanuki Neiri (Forced Sleep): Forces Gaara to go to sleep, allowing the Shukaku to take full control of his body. Also tends to result in Shukaku going a little...overboard.
Fuuton Renkuudan (Wind Release: Drilling Air Bullet): I think the name says it all. It's kind of like the Rasengan actually.
Akahigi (Red Secret Art): Sasori's puppet jutsu techniques.
