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Chapter Eleven: Red

You never thought that Itachi would meet you at the gates to the afterlife. He appears like an angel of death, black cloak billowing out like dark wings, his long black hair whipping in the wind.

"Itachi-san," you cry out, "are you dead, too?"

He smiles at you then, an odd demi-grin that looks half-grimace. "You are not quite right. I am dead, but you are simply dying." You look at him quizzically, and he explains, "Sakura is healing you now—"

"Sakura? Then—we broke the seal! She's no longer a vampire!" You slump in relief.

Now it is Itachi's turn to eye you askance. "Always worried about others before your own safety. You and I are much alike. Listen well, Hinata, for my chakra fades from this world. I have broken the cursemark and have sealed away Orochimaru's vile chakra from this world—but Sasuke has escaped with Uchiha Madara, and the Akatsuki are closing in on the Forest, even as we speak. They are after Naruto, and they won't stop until he is dead and the fox is in their hands."

"No," you whimper. After coming this far, after everything you've done, it can't be true. The Forest has just barely defeated Sasuke and the vampire hordes, and now—

Now the Akatsuki are after your boyfriend.

Before you can cry, Itachi puts a hand on your shoulder. "Take the last dregs of my chakra, Hinata. Live. Wake up and activate the Moon's Eye crystal once more."

"But—"

"The crow was just an amplification device. The Moon's Eye itself I implanted in your skull, after a few modifications. Now wake."

You want to argue—you want to say that you have no idea how to defeat the Akatsuki, that you don't know how to use the crystal that is somehow embedded inside of your head, but Itachi fades from sight, and the darkness dissolves. Black light turns indigo, then violet, then blue. Your eyes flicker open.

"Thank the gods, Hinata, oh Hinata-chan," Sakura cries, her green eyes full of life, and tears, and grief. "Hinata-chan, I'm so sorry."

Naruto is by your side, and he is crying uncontrollably. "Naruto-kun," you whisper, taking his hand in your own.

His blue eyes are overflowing with tears, and he looks at you, striken. "Naruto-kun," you repeat, "does the Kyubi have any more chakra left?" You raise yourself up on wooden limbs.

"But Hinata—" Sakura begins, but you cut her off.

"The Akatsuki will be here any minute," you say. "And we need to kick some ass."

You cough, and your lungs shudder against your rib cage; red flecks dot your hand as you pull it away from your mouth.

"Hinata! I just pulled out out of the Death God's jaws," Sakura calls indignantly. "You can't—"

"I have to," you whisper, though your voice is sharp, determined. "Itachi gave me a jutsu that will stop the Akatsuki."

Of course, you have no idea of what that jutsu is, but there is no time to figure it out. Over the crests of burnt-out buildings, flying through the horizon of orange street-lights, comes a small army, their cloaks billowing out around them like extended shadows.

"Byakugan," you whisper, even though your eyes burn. You finger the fox charm at your throat and draw on the Kyubi's chakra. It courses chaotically through your already raw channels, but you grit your teeth and take the power all the same. You step forward, but you falter; Naruto catches you.

"Carry me to the front lines," you whisper. Naruto doesn't argue; he gathers you up in his arms, bridal-style, and runs over the rooftops, towards the tide of enemies. With your expanded vision, you can see Sakura trailing behind you, her eyes flashing and fey; she is still half-mad from having been a vampire, and you know that she will fight, heedless of any danger. You clench your hands into fists.

Sakura won't have a chance to fight. You will take care of the members of the Akatsuki by yourself—you will save everyone.

Your eyes scan the incoming enemies. "The masked man—Uchiha Madara—is in the center," you gasp. "He is flanked by Kisame and Kakuzu. Hidan brings up the rear; Deidara is flying a helicopter above. Zetsu is lurking behind them; don't let him touch you," you warn.

"Uchiha Madara?" Naruto asks, his face twisted in a grimace. "But I thought—"

"He's alive," you murmur. "That's what Itachi told me."

Naruto shakes his head. "But how can we trust Itachi to—"

"Naruto," you whisper, "trust me."

If you had your wits about you—which you do not—you might think twice about rushing off to meet the Akatsuki. After all, you were nearly dead about five minutes ago. Furthermore, you are being carried by Naruto, the very person they wish to capture, and kill.

But something tells you that you are making the right decision, something that defies all reason and logic. Perhaps it is a compulsion or genjutsu that Itachi has placed on you; maybe it is merely a gut feeling. As the wind whips your hair back and you travel forwards, and the roar of the helicopter deafens your ears, you feel oddly peaceful.

The line of Akatsuki close in quickly, the sounds of their approach drowned out by the clamor of the helicopter above you. The masked man gestures for the helicopter to fly out behind you to cut off your escape. Your ears ring in the sudden, relative quiet as the helicopter flies off, a reprieve that doesn't last long; you can hear Deidara dropping explosives on unsuspecting Forest members, and you wince.

You will have to end this quickly.

"What do we have here?" Madara calls, his voice thick with malicious mirth. "You've delivered the Kyubi right into our hands!"

"What a bunch of dumb kids," Kisame mutters, cocking a pair of machine guns at you in his beefy arms.

Hidan comes out from behind Madara and snorts. "What do you mother-fuckers think you're going to do? That bitch is half-dead," he mutters, motioning towards you, "and you two are cock-sucking—"

You don't let Hidan finish. You force the Kyubi's chakra into your eyes until they burn and your vision swims red. You offer a silent prayer to Itachi, because you have no idea what you are doing, and yet you must, you must—

As if in response, you hear a crow cawing in the distance. Your vision clears. Everything is outlined in red and in silver. It is as if you are looking through things instead of at them, their atoms whirling, their contours shimmering with light. There is no thought, only instinct—you roar out your defiance, an inchoate cry, and all heads turn towards you.

The chakra in your eyes flare, and there is nothing but the red light, and the scream that dies on your lips; you are nothing but the burning jutsu. It is as if the red light has a life of its own, and it flows like a sinuous dragon out of your eyes. It burns everything in red fire, it flows and whorls like a windstorm.

Unbidden, the words ring out of your mouth: "Protect Konoha."

Then, the red dragon fire is gone; you have no time to wonder if you are dead or merely sleeping as the darkness drowns you.

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