The Art of Family

Chapter Eight: The Family Broken

Day One Without Naruto

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Obviously.

Info: Naruto is eighteen. Sasuke has left the village and is roaming the country with his new little troop. Sakura-chan is still in Leaf, working for Tsunade. No real manga plot will be involved, beyond what I just told you. ...So far as I know, anyway.

- - -

The thunder was deafening. Lightning blurred the green glow of the emergency lights, casting deep shadows around the Hokage and her unexpected visitors. Outside her door, she could hear people moving about, talking. They were just a scream away.

But Tsunade did not scream. Instead, she narrowed her eyes, and did what she any trained ninja worth their salt would do – she evaluated the situation and gained all the knowledge she could in the briefest amount of time.

It seemed, for all her senses could tell her, that Kazama Arashi was indeed standing before her, as he had been in life. The chakra that came from him was undoubtedly his. She could feel it coming from him in waves.

The face and figure were correct, with subtle differences. This man was older than the Fourth had been at the time of his death; as if he'd never died but merely continued to age and change naturally. This is how the Yondaime Hokage would have looked, had he lived. The thought made Tsunade's heart ache, but she did not allow her emotions to show, nor influence her next move.

Beneath his eyes – eyes so much like Naruto's – was a building fury. She could see the edges of that anger around his mouth. "Tsunade-hime," he began again, leaning his hands on the desk – they were shaking a bit, "where did you send Naruto?"

She moved quickly, her hand on the kunai before this Arashi-impostor could blink. She jumped over her desk, her knees knocking into his chest. The man fell back onto the carpet, a gush of breath pushed out of him by her weight. She knelt on his chest, the kunai at his throat. Her eyes widened; for a moment, the man's form seemed to shimmer.

"Genjutsu?" she growled, pressing the kunai harder into his flesh. He wasn't real. He couldn't be. She looked him over critically. The air around him seemed to glow a bit. This had to be a genjutsu of some kind. There was no other explanation.

He opened his eyes – too much like Naruto's; how those eyes hurt her – and looked coolly up at her. "I am a genjutsu. Naruto created me."

"And me," a soft, feminine voice said directly behind her. Tsunade's eyes narrowed a fraction, for now she felt the tip of the kunai at her temple. She did not turn to face the woman silently threatening her, but focused instead on the man below her.

"Explain," she commanded, the kunai glittering dangerously in the green lights that flickered above them.

"Some three days ago," he began, his voice monotone, "Naruto used a forbidden genjutsu – Kazoku no Jutsu is it's name. In doing so, he summoned the souls of his family.

"Our bodies were made from his Kage Bunshins," he continued. "We lived with him. We ate meals with him. We loved him. We were at first unaware of what we were. As time went on, we began to remember our last days. Each time Naruto summoned us, we became more and more aware that we were not real.

"You sent Naruto on a mission. Though he is not here – and though we are not currently inhabiting the bodies of his Kage Bunshins – we have been summoned." Here his expression and voice took on an uncertain quality. "We were summoned by...something."

"Tell me where my child is," the woman behind Tsunade hissed, her voice right at Tsunade's ear now. She looked at the woman from the corner of her eye, taking in the black and red bear ANBU mask.

"Uzumaki Ayaka," she greeted, narrowing her eyes, then looking back to Arashi. "I don't believe any of this."

Arashi's expression did not change. "I don't blame you. But that will not stop us from finding Naruto. You cannot stop us. He has called to us, and we will go."

"Do what you must to prove we exist," the Bear ANBU – Ayaka – said, the kunai still at Tsunade's temple. "But do it quickly."

Tsunade lifted the kunai from Arashi's neck. The kunai at her temple was removed and she stood, watching with a scowl as Arashi rose to his feet. She glanced quickly from him to Ayaka.

The mask she wore was a familiar one. It was solid black; but for the red lining around the eyes, mouth, and ears of it. It's white teeth were stained red, as if with blood. It had been retired with Ayaka's death, along with her weapons pouch, and jounin vest – all of which this genjutsu woman now wore. Tsunade was sure the set was still in the vault under Hokage Tower, where all the masks and gear of those ANBU who died in service were kept.

She looked to the third member of this odd trio, narrowing her eyes. He was solid; lacking the unearthly glow of his comrades.

His hair was white, and pulled back into a low ponytail. He wore the same, jounin-class uniform as the other two. His weapons pouch was on his left leg; meaning he was left handed. He wore a white owl's mask, with a black beak and black lining around the eyes. His form, the way he held himself (for she was sure this ANBU was a male), were all familiar to her.

"Who are you?" she questioned.

The ANBU lifted a black gloved hand to that mask and pulled it off. Strands of hair fell into his saddened black eyes; which she was used to seeing upturned like a fox's.

"Mattaku Shiro," she greeted coolly, somehow unsurprised to see him there. "How are you mixed up in all of this?"

The man blinked slowly, looking towards the Yondaime and his wife. "Ayaka-chan and Arashi-dono were and always will be my friends. I will follow them into the depths of Hell; as I promised."

Tsunade narrowed her eyes. "Then you believe they are who they claim to be?"

Shiro-kun looked from the pair to her, nodding once. "I know they are, Hokage-sama."

Tsunade walked around behind her desk, taking her seat. She steepled her fingers under her chin and scowled at the three.

"Tell me everything."

- - -

The first thing Arashi felt was pain. Red, hot pain that shot through him and made his back arch in agony. He could not breathe for it. His lungs burned and ached and would not suck in breath for several seconds.

He could hear screaming – he could hear Midoriko screaming. The sound made his blood run cold, yet he could not move, but to writhe under the pressure of it. His heart rate was unsteady; halting. His stomach rolled and turned, and for a horrifying moment, Arashi was sure he would throw up and choke on his own vomit.

From his head to his feet, the pain raced throughout him. He trembled and seized for moments uncounted, barely avoiding biting his tongue.

Naruto is in danger.

The voice was familiar, but in a faint, almost forgotten way. The blinding pain was banished from him at once; though his body still burned and ached in ways he'd never felt before. He tried to open his eyes slowly, hissing through his teeth at the way the paling light made him hurt. It took him a moment to adjust to the sensation, before he could fully open his eyes. He was on the Family Room floor, staring up at the old cracked ceiling. He breathed hard, his limbs so very heavy.

He felt as if he'd run for seven days straight, without rest, water, or food. His muscles all felt stretched and leaden. The simple task of raising his hand caused pain to shoot up his arm and into his shoulders.

He heard a moan beside him. He forced his head to turn, his vision blackening with the motion. Pain shot through his shoulders and neck, making his head swim.

Ayaka was beside him, her elbows pressing against the floor as she struggled to sit up. "Midoriko-chan, Midoriko-chan," she was chanting, pushing with all her might, her expression twisted in agony. Arashi felt his heart clench and twist in his chest, watching his wife struggle so.

She sat up at last, panting under the excursion. Her eyes were squeezed shut against the pain, her hands fisted against the carpet. She gave a hiss of preparation, and began to push up to her feet. She cried out, her knees bent and hands braced against the carpet, before she collapsed to the floor again.

"Ayaka," he managed; though speaking made his throat ache and burn. It felt like his throat was...new. Unused. As if he'd never spoken before.

"Arashi..." Ayaka panted, "Midoriko-chan is screaming." She began to move again. He could hear Midoriko calling out to them from the hall. She sounded so frightened.

He braced his hands into the carpet, trying to pull them up so he could lift himself from the carpet. He gagged on the pain, his arms going limp at his side. He didn't know how Ayaka had managed to move before. He couldn't so much as twitch without wanting to faint.

The screaming went suddenly and totally silent. His heart rose up into his throat.

"Midoriko!" Ayaka screamed, her voice hoarse. She was pushing herself up again, until she was at last sitting. She rolled onto her knees, and began to crawl towards the hall. Arashi licked his dry lips, and pushed.

He let out a cry. He couldn't help it. It was as if his entire body was rebelling against him.

"Because this isn't your body."

It was that voice again. Arashi started, frozen on his hands and knees. He stared straight ahead, his eyes wide.

Ayaka had frozen as well, her hand on the wall, tears filling her eyes.

Midoriko stood before them, her small form encased in a deep red chakra. Her eyes were endlessly white, glowing against the dark of the apartment. Lightning lit the room, and Arashi choked. The shadow cast behind her was not her own, but that of the nine tails fox demon.

"Kyuubi no Youko," he whispered. Ayaka let out a horrible sound; not quite a sob, not quite a scream; but something in between.

"Hmn." Midoriko's mouth moved, but the voice that came from it was no doubt that of the Kyuubi. It was...surreal. "Kazama Arashi. Your son – my vessel – is in danger. He is unconscious, and in the clutches of something even this Kyuubi cannot stop.

"I have created bodies for you and your wife. They will not last long. You must find other forms to inhabit. My chakra is strained as it is. This form will soon disappear.

"Before your forms dissolve as well, go to Tsunade. That old woman will tell you where he is. Save Naruto. Save us both." Midoriko's – Kyuubi's – eyes narrowed. "You owe me that much, Yondaime-sama."

Midoriko blinked, the white bleeding from her eyes. For a moment, that odd red chakra remained around her, before it too dispelled. When the lightning flashed again, the shadow she cast was her own.

"Otou-san..." she whispered, before her little legs went out from under her. She let out a sigh, and crumpled to the ground, still and silent.

"Midoriko!" Ayaka cried, lunging across the carpet to embrace her child. Arashi could move easily now as well, the pain completely gone. He scrambled to his feet, running the short distance to the remainder of his family, sinking down beside them. "Midoriko-chan! Midoriko-chan!" Ayaka continued to cry, hugging her child close and rocking her back and forth.

Midoriko opened her eyes slowly, a dazed smile touching her lips. "It's so warm...Okaa-san's heart beat." Ayaka forced a smile, kissing her daughter's temple.

"Midoriko," Arashi said, his voice choked and small. He reached up with trembling hands, touching her cheek, and she smiled at him.

"Otou-san's hand is so strong," she said, her voice growing softer. "That strength will surely bring Nii-san home. And then...we'll all celebrate Midoriko's birthday, right?"

"Of course," he said, tears stinging his eyes. His daughter smiled, her eyes closing.

"I look forward to it, Otou-san, Okaa-san."

Ayaka let out that terrible sound again, and Midoriko went still.

Arashi stared down at this child – his child – that was no more real than he, and felt something break within him.

She was so very small. Her body fit into his arms so easily. Ayaka just sat there, staring blankly into space, her face tear streaked and pale. He carried Midoriko to the couch, laying her gently on it. He crouched beside her, crossing her hands over her stomach, his fingers lingering on hers for a moment.

She was smiling.

Arashi looked numbly around the room, finding her stuffed bear at his knee. He lifted it, staring at it a moment, before he tucked it into the crook of her elbow. Behind him, Ayaka began to stir.

"She wasn't really our daughter," Ayaka said, her voice cracking and sounding ever so fragile. "So why...why does it hurt like this?"

Arashi stared down at Midoriko. Her skin was already beginning to pale.

"I remember giving birth to her," Ayaka continued. "I remember her first word, her first step. But those...those memories aren't real. None of them are. We're...dead. All of us are just...dead."

Her lips were still pink, though. Her hair was still in those pigtails. She looked like she was sleeping.

"We have to save Naruto," Arashi said, his own voice foreign to his ears. "Midoriko...for Midoriko, too. We have to save him. Save Naruto."

Ayaka's breath stuttered. He could hear her crying silently. He could not tear his eyes away from Midoriko's face.

It was too familiar – this sight. It was too much to bare. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. He lost someone precious to him again.

He would not lose Naruto as well.

- - -

They donned their old uniforms – or genjutsu created facsimiles of them – and left Midoriko on the couch. Her figure was already starting to fade away, but they could not wait with her. It was time for them to save their son.

Ayaka remained silent during their race through the village. She had since stopped crying, but seemed to be too grieved to speak. Arashi did not blame her, for he found it hard to speak as well.

There was nothing left to say.

They came across Mattaku Shiro halfway between their home – Naruto's home; "their home" was just another lie; another illusion – and Hokage Tower. He was already in uniform; his white mask glittering in the rain.

"Arashi-dono, Ayaka-chan, it's been awhile," he said. His voice was deeper than Arashi remembered, but it had been many years since he'd seen the man.

"Shiro-kun," Ayaka at last spoke. Her voice was still strained. Her fingers trembled as she loosened her mask and pulled it down from her face.

Shiro looked from him to Ayaka, pulling the mask from his face. His eyes were open, and expression conflicted. "How did we meet?" he asked, his voice cold and expression suddenly steely.

Ayaka's eyes widened, her hands clasping her own ANBU mask to her chest. "You fell out of a tree. I called you an idiot and asked how you ever expected to be a ninja if you couldn't even climb a tree right."

Shiro's eyes softened, and he smiled a bit. "You were so cute when you were angry."

Ayaka smiled a little; her eyes welling with tears again. "Shiro-kun..." she began, taking a halting step towards him. Arashi grabbed her arm, suspicious of this meeting between old friends.

"What did I say to you the first time we met?" Arashi asked, his eyes narrowing.

Shiro looked at him, his expression a bit dazed. "You said, "It's nice to meet you, Ghost-san. Do you have any cookies?" I told you I didn't have any cookies. You were...disappointed."

Arashi's grip lightened on Ayaka's hand, but he did not release her. "So you are Mattaku Shiro. But how did you know to meet us?"

Shiro looked uncomfortable then. He shifted his weight, licking his lips. "I used...it. My family's secret." Arashi sucked in a breath, looking to Ayaka, who looked just as shocked.

"Shin no Hoyou. Our bloodline limit."

- - -

It was storming outside, and Mattaku Shiro felt uneasy. He sat in the parlor of his apartment behind his shop, his closed eyes crinkled with worry. The air felt charged; unnatural. His skin prickled and he couldn't get comfortable no matter what position he sat in.

Shiro rose up and paced the room, looking out the window and into the storm, only to turn back and look at the wardrobe across the room, where his past was kept.

He felt drawn to it; his fingers itched to open it. He hadn't looked in there for many, many years.

Yet now he stood before it, his hand on the gold knob, turning it. His breath was coming in quick spurts, and he could feel blood rushing to his cheeks. This was...exhilarating.

He pulled the doors open, and instantly smelt her.

He squeezed his eyes tight shut, breathing deeply. A fond smile turned the corner of his lips. He reached in blindly, his fingers brushing over the sleeve of his old ANBU uniform. Every movement of air brought the smell of perfume to him, comforting him.

He opened his eyes, his whole being softening as he reached past the uniform to a box full of memories. He plucked a photo from it, his smile widening as he studied it.

It was their genin photo. Their sensei stood behind them, giving a smug smirk. An eleven year old Ayaka-chan stood beside an equally young Shiro; her arm looped with his. Their third member; a boy named Uchiha Aitou, had his arm around Shiro's shoulder. They were all happy, and smiling, and so very young.

The smile slid from his face. Aitou had been killed on a mission when they were fifteen. He had never achieved the Sharingan. Shiro could still remember the way his blood felt on his hands.

Sensei had been killed on a mission with her team. He remembered the feeling of utter disbelief that someone as bright and strong as Sensei could have died in such a way.

Ayaka-chan he had lost to the Kyuubi. Arashi-dono as well.

Shiro had no one. He had no family, no friends.

Shiro was alone.

He lifted a small, stuffed dog from the box. It had been Ayaka-chan's. She had given it to him when they were small children; before they were assigned to the same team. "To keep you company when you're lonely," she had told him.

Shiro hugged the dog close, smiling sadly down at it's one eye and tore muzzle. It was one of his most prized possessions.

It was then that he felt it. A surge so powerful, it made him stumble. He landed hard on his backside, staring straight ahead in horror.

The chakra flare – it belonged to the Kyuubi no Youko. For one, horrible moment, he was sure Naruto-kun had lost control, but then it was gone, as quick as it had come. It was impossible for such a surge to have simply...disappeared, yet it had.

Shiro was panting, his chest constricted. The very air around him felt heavier. He wasn't sure what had happened, but he had to alert Godaime-sama.

He was on his feet, putting the photo and dog away as quickly as his shaking hands could, when yet another chakra surge froze him to the bone.

"It can't be..." he whispered, his eyes blurring. He felt...them. His most precious people. Their chakra was there and alive and so very strong. Stronger than it had been in life.

"Ayaka-chan...Arashi-dono...how is this possible?"

He turned slowly, looking out the window. The sky lit with the raging storm. They were out there, for sure.

Shiro, who had always been chakra-sensitive, was sure of what he felt. The chakra surge was fading slowly away, but he was sure it was them. Somehow.

He licked his dry lips, his fox-eyes open and alert. He clutched his chest, looking around the room in a panic.

He had to do...something. He had to be sure before he could go to Hokage-sama.

He had to use...that.

Shiro shivered, suddenly very cold. He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, starting at the chill in his fingers. His extremities were like ice. The room was cooling with every breath he took. The Bloodline Limit had already begun; brought about by his subconscious will to find the truth.

Shiro sighed, watching his breath puff out in a white fog. The window began to ice over; though it was warm outside. He sank down into the lotus position, closing his eyes, ignoring his surroundings.

"Shin no Hoyou!" he called, making the seals quickly, before opening his eyes.

It was not his apartment that he saw; but the inside of another apartment. He was floating near the ceiling, looking down on the slightly fuzzy forms of Ayaka-chan, Arashi-dono, and a small child they were clutching to them. He stared hard at them, tracing the path of their chakra through their...bodies.

But they had no bodies. He could see right through them; like ghosts. It was clear to him that they were genjutsu-made. Though how they existed in such a matter, he could not comprehend. He could see the chakra-lines pulsing in each of them; but it was odd. They had two sets of chakra lines; their own, and another, darker line. It was foreign to them and stuck out like a sore thumb. Shiro was sure this was what was sustaining them, though he could not comprehend how.

The genjutsu-child was dying. Her chakra – for she along side the dark chakra, she had unique chakra; like a real child – was fading. Her heart was slowing, her breathing was halting. She would be dead in seconds. He could not hear what they were saying – for this technique was a "seeing" technique and nothing more – but he could read her lips.

She seemed like such a sweet thing. He felt a pang as she passed, and his heart ached as Ayaka and Arashi grieved.

But he remained aloof. The Bloodline Limit allowed him to remained apart from his own pain. He could analyze without emotion. So that is what he did; he analyzed the situation and the facts before him.

Ayaka was Ayaka. Arashi was Arashi. They had no bodies – they were simply souls. But how they were there; being powered by some unknown genjutsu; he could not imagine. The truth – so clear, and so very obvious – was that they were who they looked, felt, and appeared to be.

Shiro's heart pounded. His friends were...real.

He snapped out of the jutsu, gasping for breath. He was on his side, staring at the space underneath his wardrobe, blood dripping into a small pool beside his mouth. His eyes hurt; his vision was dimmed. He couldn't breathe properly, and he knew he had been dead.

This was the price of the Shin no Hoyou. Each time a member of the Mattaku family "Embraced the Truth", they lost one year off of their lives. Their bodies were wracked with injuries, their internal organs were bruised, their blood was thinned.

For Ayaka-chan, Shiro had lost two years of his life. This made the third.

He licked his lips, sitting up slowly and rubbing his hand over his mouth. He stared at the blood that smeared over his palm.

It was worth it.

He rose shakily, barely noticing that the room had returned to it's proper temperature, his feet unsteady. His feet shuffled as he stumbled to the wardrobe. He opened it slowly, panting as he retrieved the mask and uniform that once made up his entire world.

It took him a bit longer than he would have liked to change and get ready, but he was out the door within minutes.

He followed the feeling of the chakra – they were on the move; no doubt on the way to see the Hokage – and met them midway.

He watched as Ayaka removed her mask, and his once-broken heart began to beat whole again.

- - -

A/N: Okay, I killed Special Chapter 3. Not for good – I just moved it to a later chapter. This fits better.

Yes, Mattaku Shiro is more than just a one-time use character. He's Ayaka-chan's dear friend.

About Midoriko-chan...gomen! (hangs head in sorrow) It had to be done.