Naruto was slightly surprised to find Konohamaru sitting on the first step of his fire escape. He did a double take when he saw that Konohamaru was not alone, as he had first thought. Two other kids, a boy and a girl, both Konohamaru's age, stood behind the black-haired punk, looking nervous and ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. Konohamaru was short for his age, but the kids behind him were even smaller.
"Hiya, Boss!" Konohamaru said, getting to his feet when Naruto approached.
"Hey, Konohamaru. What's up?" The kid shrugged.
"Not much." He seemed to remember the pair behind him all of a sudden. "Oh, yeah, this is Moegi and this is Udon."
The girl, Moegi, had hair that stuck straight out of her head, tied up in two bunches. Her face had lost its baby fat, strained by hardship, making her look older than she really was. Her cheeks had red paint on them, and her face was too pale to be natural; she had obviously been part of a brothel until recently, learning how to seduce men from the older girls. She would probably survive if she went back to the brothel, begged to work, and learned to do the others' makeup until she was old enough to earn her keep; she was too inexperienced to do much more.
Udon, the boy, looked ill, his nose runny, and he squinted like he needed glasses. His face, like Moegi's, was too thin for his age, childhood fat drained. Naruto sighed. Konohamaru sure knows how to pick friends, he thought sarcastically. Udon was practically dead already; there was no way any Pack would let a weakling like him live (1).
"Konohamaru?"
"Yeah?" Konohamaru looked so hopeful that Naruto couldn't bear the idea of telling him his friends were useless to him.
"…Never mind." Naruto said, brushing past the trio. They followed him up the stairs and into the apartment. He'll find out soon enough.
Udon didn't last the night.
His was not a quiet death. Every breath made him gasp and clutch his chest as his body slowly shut down, weak lungs collapsing bit by bit. It was painful to watch, but Konohamaru or Moegi, frozen by the sight of their friend dying, couldn't tear their eyes away. When Udon's labored breathing faded and his heart gave one last desperate attempt to contine beating, Moegi ran and vomited into the toilet while Konohamaru silently stare at Udon's still form.
"Be glad it wasn't contagious, or we'd all be dead." Naruto told him, putting Udon's body over his shoulder. He moved to go out the window. "I'll be back in a bit."
"Where are you going with him?" Konohamaru demanded, his face screwing up in anger. Naruto smiled at the kid.
"To dispose of the body, of course. Think I'm going to let it rot in my kitchen?"
"Udon's not an 'it'!" Now Konohamaru was fighting back tears.
"Kid, Udon't gone. All that's left is the body." Konohamaru didn't respond. "Udon's gone, and he isn't coming back." With that, Naruto disappeared outside, swallowed by the rapidly lengthening shadows of twilight. He traveled towards the setting sun. On his way home, arms free of Udon's body, he leapt to the roof of an abandoned building, stopping just to admire the stained beauty of the skies.
The atmosphere seemed to smile and forget the poison created by human hands seeping into vast expanses, kindly offering hope to the poor creatures mulling below if only they would glance upwards. Even as the sky cradled the silently blazing sun in its unending folds, softly blushing a rosy hue, the pollution-soaked clouds that hovered, ever-present above Demon's End, shimmered gold. Those struggling clouds, so silkily bright they appeared as oil on water, reminded all who bothered to spare a moment for the sky that the nature of the world and that of the human race had yet to find perfect harmony, human hands slowly soiling all they touched.
As Naruto stood, watching, the sun dipped even lower on the horizon. The bright start's light threaded through the petal-soft embrace and set the entire sky on fire. The sight of the sun, trying in vain to catch the attention of artists, poets and lovers, any who would gaze upon its glowing rims and appreciate its beauty, made Naruto smile. He was reminded of the legend of creation told at school.
In the legend, the world, created out of love by an unknown force, and gave birth to two beings: the sun and the moon. The sun created humans and animals, and the moon created demons; the two rulers agreed to keep the three races equal in power and intelligence. The legend said that the power the moon had bestowed upon demons corrupted the creatures, and they began attacking humans. To protect his people, the sun blessed the humans with intelligence enough to outwit the demons. Angered by her brother's betrayal, the moon cursed all those created by the sun with short lives, then fled into the sky, her grief dimming the heavens to black. Fearing for his creations, the sun chased the moon, brightening everything she darkened and restoring all to its original glory. This cycle of death and restoration, the legend says, continues, the day making everything good, the night undoing all the day's work.
Konoha no longer taught that the sun and moon were gods who controlled the universe, opting instead for a scientific explanation, but the legend was still very popular with the elderly; grandparents told the legend to the grandchildren who couldn't understand technical terms.
It was complete and utter crap. Naruto knew for a fact that the legend was wrong.
The legend was written by a human after the fox attack, and was thus destined to show humans as the exemplar of creation and biased against demons, making them out to be the scum of the earth and the most evil things imaginable. Its writer would never dream of showing demons from a viewpoint other than, 'All demons deserve to die.' Naruto couldn't really blame the man; right after the fox, Konoha was reeling from the attack, shocked and angry that the village had almost been wiped out, eager to destroy anything related to the creature that had threatened its existence. Regardless of class or lineage, the people of Konoha wanted all demons dead, and didn't care how the deaths happened or who killed them. Authors were ordered to show human triumph over demonkind in their works, and the 'legend of creation' had been the most popular. Naruto didn't like the legend, but respected it nonetheless and knew better than to challenge it in its birthplace of Konoha.
Naruto, the other Sacred Nine, and demons knew the real story of creation, but if humanity wanted to tell itself a lie, who were they to say differently? Demons were in hiding, and in no position to argue against the ideas of humans. After the attack on Konoha, humans grew fearful and cautious of demons, rejecting them from cities and villages. Lesser in number, the demons retreated to the wild untamed forests where the wave of human civilization couldn't reach: the Protected Grounds, a vast land guarded by the Sacred Nine and hidden by the gods from human eyes.
While most didn't care about the affairs of humans and felt nothing for the weaker race, there were many who remembered life among the humans, how they had lived before the mass migration to the Protected Grounds. Some were still bristling from the unfairness of their situation, whining to Naruto whenever he took on his furred form. The humans had made the first move, or had he forgotten They would complain, winding about his legs like cats begging for scraps, rubbing their bodies against his as though it would sway his opinion. They tried to harness your brother's powers, tried to seal his tail inside a human body. The humans are to blame for our misfortunes. Why do you not end their pitiful existence? Reveal your wrath to them and they shall surely bend to your will. Naruto tried his best to placate these angry few. Other demons, particularly those who had fit in well with human society, like the rat demons who had fed off the humans' leftovers, disliked the migration because it meant they had to start catching their own food.
A few demons mourned the loss of human companions and friends. Some dog demons missed the humans they had lived among, recalling the excitement of the hunt with weeping eyes and sad smiles. Surprisingly, considering their standoffish, aloof nature and preference of their own company, some cat demons remembered humans they had liked with fond expressions.
Whenever in the Protected Grounds, Naruto always made sure to stop and visit with one aging cat demon named Ayame. Obaasan, as Naruto affectionately called Ayame, had been the faithful companion of an elderly widow for many years. Ayame told Naruto stories about the woman whenever he visited her. Naruto could almost picture the demon in front of him as he stared out at Demons' End. Ayame would tuck her hindquarters underneath herself, tail flicking lethargically at her front paws, and sit up straight before beginning.
"Oh, my Maemi-san was so good to me! I remember how during our daily walk around the village, you know I used to lead her? Yes, her poor eyes stopped working a few years after her husband died and I had to help her along, the sweet dear. Anyway, during our walk she would always sit down on this one bench beneath a sakura tree. She would pat the bench and let me lie in her lap, and stroke my head and say she was so happy I was with her. I will never forget how good it was to just be there with her, listening to the chatter of the people as they walked by us and feel her fingers on my fur…"
Ayame would stop abruptly and groom her shoulder as though it had forced her away from Maemi-san in the first place. A few minutes later, when her eyes had stopped misting and she wasn't in danger of crying, Ayame would continue with a little cough to clear her throat and start again. Naruto never interrupted his friend.
"And then we would go home in the evening, and Maemi-san would always let me have a little off her place. So kind, my Maemi-san, so kind. Then, when I heard we had to leave, I waited until we were under that tree before speaking. It was the first time I had spoken to her, but she just smiled and nodded. She said that if I had to go, she would miss me terribly and our walks together, but not to worry about her, she would get along. I can still see her, sitting beneath the sakura tree, smiling so prettily. She said that I was to keep the collar, to remember her by. As if I could forget her!"
Here, Ayame would break down into sobs, turning away to hide her face. She always apologized afterwards for her actions, and Naruto didn't have the heart to tell her it wasn't necessary to apologize for her emotions. Their conversation started the same way every time he visited even though Ayame wasn't old enough to forget if she'd said something before or not, but Naruto never mentioned it. After this first story, the neko would tell Naruto more stories about Maemi-san and their time together, absentmindedly stroking the thin collar around her furred neck as she spoke.
He always left her home feeling sad that his friend had been forced away from the woman she had obviously loved and cared for, honored at the same time that Ayame trusted him to treasure her memories, happy that Ayame had had such a pleasant life.
Naruto turned away from the sky and continued homeward.
---
When he returned, Moegi and Konohamaru were nowhere to be found. He began the task of disinfecting his entire apartment, feeling bittersweet that Iruka had a meeting and couldn't come over that night. He was unhappy because Iruka was his oldest and most trusted friend, and Naruto missed the doe-eyed man's comforting presence. But he was also glad; Iruka gave his heart too easily, and, despite not knowing Konohamaru's friend very well, would have been heartbroken and depressed for the next week if he'd seen Udon die.
Iruka was precious to Naruto, and Iruka being unhappy was more than he could stand. Naruto would do anything to keep Iruka from being hurt, and knew that Iruka did the same thing to him, trying to protect him from the horrors of the world.
"Need a hand, Naruto-sama?"
"Gaara-san, I didn't think you'd be here so early." Gaara shrugged.
"I was floating and heard your voice. Talking to a Black Trader, Naruto-sama? I nearly killed the man when I had gathered enough for sight."
"I'm glad you didn't, Gaara-san. Otherwise our deal would have been off and I'd be left with a body." This sparked Gaara's interest.
"The kid died?"
"No, Konohamaru's still with us. His friend died, and I didn't want it rotting. I got rid of it, and he was gone when I got back." Gaara didn't say anything.
Life's value over death's was small in Demon's End, compared to the value of life in Upper City. Black Traders were the vultures of Demon's End, taking the bodies of the dead and disposing of them. It was rumored they took body parts and sold them at the Black Market as items with healing powers. One of the reasons Naruto was glad he lived where he did: the Black Market's influence wasn't as strong in Foxtown as it was in the other sections of Demon's End.
"So, Iruka-sama and Kakashi-san aren't coming tonight and we've got all night. Wanna do anything particular?" Naruto asked, running a hand through his hair.
"Kakashi-sama mentioned dogs last night. I assume he wants one?"
"Yeah. Iruka-sama always worries about me when he can't visit. He wants me to have someone else around." Gaara sniffed, looking away.
"I'm here." Naruto smiled, resting a hand on Gaara's shoulder.
"I know, Gaara-san, and I pointed it out to Iruka-sama. He things that it is too strange for you to be with me all the time, like Kakashi-san is with him. He wants me to get a dog, and Kakashi-san wants to help me choose." Gaara rolled his eyes; that man and his dogs…
"Found any one you like?"
"No, not yet. As you heard, I want one that will actually be loyal to me." It felt odd to Gaara to be speaking about such a common topic as dogs, but at the same time, it was kind of nice in a strange way; it was good to talk of things other than their duties as the Nine.
"So, anything you want to do?" Naruto asked again.
"No,-." He stopped shaking his head, looking Naruto with a question in his eyes. "Naruto-sama, are you still working on the Storm?" Naruto grinned.
"Nope, it's finished. Want to try it out?" Without a word, Gaara teleported them both to the basement in a swirl of sand. The pair spent the rest of the night tinkering away at Naruto's weapon, specially made for Gaara's personal use.
"Try it on, Gaara-san." Naruto said, gesturing. It was 3: 27 am, and while Gaara didn't sleep, so an all-nighter was no problem for him, Naruto had a test at nine that morning and needed to get at least a few hours of sleep. But, the blonde was stubborn, and he wanted the Storm to be perfect. Gaara stripped until he was shirtless, and let Naruto fit the Storm.
The Storm was nothing impressive to look at. It encased Gaara's entire left arm. It was simply a fingerless glove, sand-colored with navy designs on it, that fit over his hand. A strip of black metal went down each finger, a cup at the end of the strip around Gaara's fingertips; the cups tapered into long, sharp, navy-blue claws. More strips of metal went up Gaara's arm, a wicked-sharp navy blade, curving like Death's scythe, spiking out at the elbow, two more scythe-like blades coming from the shoulder. The shoulder blades were on a complicated hydraulics system, rotating like a hummingbird's wings, letting Gaara create gusts of wind. Gaara's natural ability to control sand meant that the wind the blades created made him all the more deadly, his sand able to move faster, strike harder, and made a quick, unnoticeable escape. A collar of metal went around Gaara's neck, metal straps going from it to the shoulder, holding the entire contraption to the redhead's body.
It was perfect for Gaara in every way possible.
Unfortunately, while the Storm worked and functioned as it should, there were still a few kinks to be worked out. The shoulder blades were large so they could displace enough air to create a breeze, but this was also their downfall; their support system of delicate hydraulics and beams broke under the strain of the weight, something Naruto was working to fix. The Storm was also slightly bulky, and while Gaara could fit it onto his arm and adjust it as necessary, he needed someone to help him strap the collar in place. The claws on his fingers made it impossible to put the Storm on alone, and the blades on the elbow and shoulder meant that Gaara couldn't wear it unless he was shirtless. Gaara didn't like being shirtless because then everyone could see his hidden weapons. He also didn't like the fact that, without a shirt, his Sacred Seal could be seen.
He idly traced the swirling lines that marred his stomach, then moved to trace the marks on his chest. Naruto slapped the young man's hand away, careful of the Storm's blades.
"Leave them alone, Gaara-san." Gaara narrowed his eyes.
"They itch, Naruto-sama."
"I know, I know. But we can't have you altering them." Gaara held Naruto's hand in his own and looked straight into the blonde's eyes.
"How much longer?" Gaara asked in a tight voice. "How much longer do I have to see you in this pitiful form?" Naruto's scalp prickled at the hint of desperation that had creeped into Gaara's normally blank eyes. He smiled, hoping to calm his friend down before he did something he regretted.
"Gaara-san, I don't know. Until Zabuza-san's war has been stopped. I know the Seals burn, but we needed to retain these forms without worrying. Without the Seals, we would have to constantly remember to keep our Sealed forms. This way, we look human without trying." Gaara released Naruto's hand, hanging his head in a defeated manner.
"Naruto-sama, forgive this idiot tanuki." He said bitterly. Naruto put a hand on Gaara's bare shoulder.
"There is nothing to forgive, Gaara-san. This is the first time you have been Sealed for so long, and the Seals are bothersome. Let's leave the Storm for tonight and go to the kitchen, Gaara. I've found that green tea helps the pain." Gaara nodded, and they disappeared in another swirl of sand, the Storm safely in its designated place.
---
Naruto had never understood the human concept of death. They viewed it as the final part of life, the inevitable, horrible end. The nobles had shrines for their families and paid their respects with offerings of food and drink. Those in Demon's End were so used to death they ignored it. The younger ones didn't understand how others could just watch someone die and not cry for that person. Eventually, though, they too grew immune to tears and mourning, soon not giving the dead more than a passing thought.
But Naruto knew death was not the end of life, just another stage of life, a new beginning in a place where there was no more pain or suffering, only the lasting sense of calm peace and quite joy. He knew that in death, you were free from your body's limitations, able to roam as you pleased, a spirit as slippery as the wind.
The change from spirit to flesh was a major transaction, and he understood all too well how Gaara felt, his own pain being worse than his brother's. Naruto was eight times as powerful as the redhead, and because of this, his Sealing required no less than ten Seals.
Sealing was a difficult process for any of the Sacred Nine; they had almost unlimited power, and binding such power into a single form was no easy task. The main Seal, called the 'Body Seal', appeared at their navels and drew their power in a spiraling pattern, layering it until their demonic energies became physical flesh. In short, the Body Seal made them take human form. Then the other Seals, or 'Tail Seals', drew their tail(s) into their naval, storing power in the body. Tail Seals randomly showed up on their physical forms. Naruto was jealous of Gaara's single tail, because it meant Gaara only had to endure two Seals: a Body Seal, and a single Tail Seal. The Seals burned constantly, a reminder of their mission. A soak in a hot bath or green tea were the only ways Naruto knew of to soothe the annoying pain. He knew why he had been Sealed, and no intention to undo his master's work, but he still didn't get why it hurt so much.
The night passed in comfortable silence, the only disturbances being a few gunshots in the distance and the pounding beat of rap music as a nearby nightclub roared into life. Giving in against sleep, Naruto curled up on the couch and slept under Gaara's watchful guard.
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I am so happy people are still reading! I'm sorry for my little outburst in the pervious chapter, but I really do love reviews. They make me want to continue writing, and tell me whether people like the story or not.
Again, if you want pairings, tell me. If you want a better explanation, let me know and I'll be sure to include one in the next chapter. I tried to move the plot along here, and I'm not sure if I was successful. Please, let me know! I'm still playing with the layout, so bear with me if it's messed up.
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Notes:
(1) Just like a system of government, gangs of Demon's End have a hierarchy, based on skills in a fight or thieving abilities. There are the: Elite Top Fighters, Top Fighters, Low Fighters, Pickpockets, and the Runts. The Elite Top Fighters (AKA, the Elite) are those with the greatest fighting skills. They know how to fight with their hands and can turn anything into a weapon. They are often seen with fighter animals (dogs, cocks, or cats), given to them as payment for protection, or as an assurance that they, the Elite, will leave the animals' donor alone. The Top Fighters are the best fighters in a gang, sent to do battle to the death with the Top Fighters of other gangs. They are usually fond of using of their hands instead of weapons, and are known to be vicious killers, killing members of their own gang in a fight. Top Fighters are like prized fighter animals, flaunted by a gang to show its strength and intimidate other gangs, but feared by the gang all the same. Then there are the Low Fighters, the fighters who are too young, inexperienced, or weak to be much use in a fight. They travel together, finding safety in numbers, and use mainly ranged weapons. Led by a Pickpocket (AKA, Thief), they make up a gang. Without a leader, they are called a Pack, and are considerably more dangerous as a Pack. As a gang, they are relaxed, content that there is someone to make decisions for them; a Thief is intelligent enough to pick out specific targets and conducts attacks to that target alone so as not to draw attention. As a Pack, Low Fighters are tense, more likely to attack anyone who comes near their territory without reason or warning, not caring if lives are lost or not. Pickpockets, or Thieves, are those crafty enough to steal without getting caught. They are gang leaders, able to rule because they are smart and keep the gang alive. On the rare occasion that they are not leaders of gangs, they are kept as the assassins of the gang, used to take out enemies and gather information, much like the shinobi from before the fox's attack were used. Runts are the weakest of the weak. Used as punching bags by gangs to relive stress, they are the crippled, the retarded, anyone who cannot defend his or herself due to physical or metal difficulties. They are not expected to live past a year or so in a gang, and are the first killed in the Culling events.
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