A/N: Thank Oriks for beta-ing so quickly!
Chapter 14:
I stared at the board, analyzing the arrangement of the pieces on it for the twentieth time, hoping I would see something I'd missed in the first nineteen. A path to victory, or even a means of escape—anything I could use to counter the trap I suddenly found myself in.
It wasn't an official loss yet, but that was nearly inevitable, given my current position.
I sighed. "How many moves ago did I fall into your trap?" I asked my opponent.
Shikaku yawned, stood up, and stretched his back. "Five," he said.
Even months later, I didn't hold a candle to the Nara clan head in Shogi. This game wasn't even part of my mental partitioning training; I was just annoyed that I hadn't beaten him even once.
"I lose," I said. Admitting defeat was always painful, but I genuinely saw no way out of it.
"I hate to brag, but I'm a bit of prodigy myself when it comes to Shogi." Shikaku grinned. "You've still got a long way ahead of you before you can beat me."
To make things worse, this particular loss had an audience.
Inoichi, who was sitting next to me, patted my back. "Don't feel too bad. You put up a good fight. You know, I think the only non-Nara people who've beaten him in Shogi before are the Sandaime and the Yondaime."
The Yamanaka had popped by for an impromptu visit in the middle of our game, and decided to see it to its end. It hadn't bothered me, since he kept quiet and did nothing but observe. To be honest, I completely forgot about him until he spoke. It was quite disconcerting really, how even with his bright blond hair and his large frame, he could blend into the background seamlessly whenever he wanted to.
And now that the game was officially over, Inoichi could finally begin what he came over to do initially.
Gossip.
I made my move to leave. The impending dribble-drabble wasn't something I was interested in. I had other things to do, and my deadlines had cut themselves short with recent events.
"Hey Shikaku, Tsunade-sama's back, did you know?" Inoichi began. "She's my patient."
Or maybe, I decided upon hearing that, I could stay for a little while longer. Why would Tsunade be Inoichi's patient? Wasn't she the best Iryo-nin there was already? And besides, Inoichi was a psychiatrist, so—oh. I suddenly remembered what I'd been told of Tsunade; how she'd lost her clan, her family, and her fiance in the short span of a single war. That one time I'd seen her, she had appeared remarkably calm and normal for someone with that kind of tragic history.
I supposed she just hid her demons well.
"Of course I know," Shikaku said. "I'm the Jounin Commander."
... He was?
"But I bet you don't know why she's my patient," Inoichi said smugly. "You won't believe it."
"Is that so?" Shikaku began to look interested, and leaned in. "Tell me then, and we shall see."
Yes, Inoichi. Tell him.
Inoichi shook his head and waggled his finger. "You know I can't. Doctor-patient confidentiality, and all that stuff."
Shikaku frowned. "I'm the Jounin Commander. Tsunade-sama is technically a Jounin. So therefore her problems are my problems. I have the right to know."
"I'm not sure it works that way." Inoichi laughed. It was clear he was irritating the Nara on purpose.
Shikaku folded his arms. "Now that I think about it, you are also a Jounin. As Jounin Commander, I command you to divulge the nature of your sessions with Senju Tsunade."
Really, Shikaku didn't have to resort to such a thing. It looked like all the information Inoichi was holding in was going to burst out at any moment. Obviously, he was dying to tell someone. Their little gossip sessions were fairly frequent, and more than a few of my training sessions had been interrupted because somebody saw or did something they shouldn't have.
There were secrets, like me being a Jinchuuriki or Kushina being pregnant, and then there were secrets, like who was having an affair, or who was getting promoted. They only discussed the latter types of course, but they discussed with such a fervor they might as well have been divulging national secrets.
"Well, you know how Tsunade-sama—" Inoichi suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Then I realized the two adults were looking at me.
"Kagura-kun," Inoichi said politely. "Don't you have somewhere else to be? I'm sure Orochimaru-sama must be worried, you've been gone for so long."
No, he wasn't, I wanted to say. Orochimaru was never worried. But obviously he wanted me gone, so reluctantly, I stood up to leave. "Thank you for the game, Shikaku-san," I said.
The Nara barely paid me any attention, nodding his head distractedly as he waited for me to get out of earshot so Inoichi could begin his soliloquy concerning Tsunade.
I sighed; I really wanted to know about it too.
I wondered if people talked about me behind my back.
"And he was so cute!" Kushina chattered on excitedly. "You should've seen him, Minato! How he just sat there for a whole hour with that super serious expression, completely still! And you could, like, tell when he was getting angry and annoyed, yeah! He would scrunch up his little nose, grit his teeth, and clench his short, stubby fingers! It was adorable."
Minato let out a sigh, partly amused, partly exasperated. Really, this was his fault; he should have seen this coming when he'd asked Kushina for a comprehensive report on Kagura's Jinchuuriki training. He loved his wife deeply, but her tendency to go off-tangent, especially when giving reports to the Hokage (him), was an idiosyncrasy he tolerated more than appreciated.
"Yes, Kushina, I'm glad to hear that you two get along well enough." He smiled at her, and she grinned back happily. "So about his actual Jinchuuriki training, how much progress has he made?"
"Zero. Absolutely none at all," Kushina said, her dreamy expression still etched onto her face. Ever since they had found out Kushina was pregnant, she'd been stuck in a permanent state of bliss that had made some conversations quite awkward.
Well, Minato couldn't blame her. Not when he found himself feeling giddy at the mere thought of it. He was going to be a father!
Unfortunately, he was Hokage, and that meant he couldn't stay in the realm of happy thoughts all the time.
"Zero?" he asked quizzically. "But he's had five sessions with you already."
"Yep." Kushina nodded her head seriously. Then she broke out into a big smile again. "Zero."
For a brief moment, Minato wondered if Kushina had actually spent any time training Kagura at all, instead of just admiring his 'cuteness'. No, Kushina was professional... wasn't she?
"The Sanbi's just shy, you know?" Kushina said. "I talked to the Kyuubi about it. He didn't tell me anything useful, but I inferred from the," she made air-quotes with her fingers, "'he'll never get a word out from that stupid turtle,' that the Sanbi just isn't very prone to talking in the first place."
Minato nodded his head thoughtfully. So it seemed like the various Bijuu had their own individual personalities. He'd never interacted with one before, not in their unsealed states, though during the war he'd caught glimpses of their appearances with their Jinchuuriki as proxies. The only insights he had to their characters were second-hand, from Kushina, and she made it sound like every Bijuu was an arrogant, evil, and snarky monster bent on the eradication of the human race. The fact that they weren't was certainly food for thought.
"So, is there anything we can do about it?" Minato asked. "We don't have much time until your third trimester."
It was decided, by everyone, that Kushina's pregnancy would kept a secret among family and friends, and those in high-ranking positions in the security council. She would be vulnerable, and with the seal weakened, they couldn't afford to take any risks. Once the baby bump was undeniable, she would be taken to a secure and secret location until their child was born. Consequently, Kagura's training would take a pause for nearly 3 months.
"Nuh uh." Kushina shook her head. "It's all up to Kagura-chan to develop a relationship with the Sanbi."
Well, this was troublesome, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. There really was no reason to rush this actually, since Kagura wasn't even eight yet. He was thankful to the Sandaime for keeping the whole Jinchuuriki thing a secret from the elders. No doubt they would be hounding him for weekly updates if they knew, and Danzo... he shuddered. He didn't even want to think about what Danzo would do if the man ever got his hands on Kagura.
"How did you ever get the Kyuubi to share his chakra with you?" Minato asked curiously. From their conversations, it really didn't sound like the Nine-tailed Fox was the type to give out its power freely.
"I asked him. And then he said yes," Kushina said casually.
Minato blinked. "That's it?" That was... underwhelming, to say the least.
"Mhmm!" Kushina nodded her head rapidly.
"That doesn't sound... right," Minato said.
"Oh yeah, it definitely didn't back then," Kushina agreed. "But in the end it turns out he just wanted a shortcut out of my body so if I ever lose control, he can easily break out of the seal and kill us all," she continued jovially.
Slightly alarmed, Minato wondered just what it would take to break Kushina out of her pregnancy-induced state of euphoria.
"Don't worry though!" Kushina flexed her arm. "That stupid fox won't be getting the better of me, yeah!"
Minato smiled at her display. "Of course it won't." Nothing could beat down Kushina.
I frowned as I closed my eyes. It was almost midnight, but I still couldn't sleep.
This really wasn't working out. Five whole weeks of training, and not even an inch of progress. I'd been so used to seeing tangible results from my other types of training that hitting a roadblock like this was downright frustrating. It didn't help that I could only practice during my sessions with Kushina, which were only once or twice a week.
Things just weren't moving at the pace I wanted them to. The Sanbi was a giant mass of stubbornness.
When I reopened my eyes, I was in the cavern, standing on the ledge that overlooked the giant pool the Sanbi resided in. I wasn't supposed to be here since Kushina wasn't around, but honestly, at the rate this was going, her presence was going to be unnecessary, since all that ever happened was a big bunch of nothing.
This first time I'd done this intentionally, I had steeled myself. The Sanbi was still a terrifying beast capable of mass destruction, but I had strengthened my resolve then to appear before it again. According to Kushina, I had to reach some kind of agreement with the Sanbi to borrow its power and chakra at will, and I had shouted, quite politely, at the dimly-lit lake and asked if we could have a conversation.
The Sanbi had never showed.
Not for that session, nor any other session after it.
I wasn't going to be betting anything on this session either, but I wasn't going to just sit at home and do nothing.
I was scared of the Sanbi. It could crush me with nothing but the sheer mass of chakra it contained. But lately all I felt towards it was irritation.
I took a seat at the edge, my legs dangling in the air.
"Sanbi," I said loudly. "Are you going to show yourself today? Or are you going to just let me sit here all day like normal?"
Like I expected, there was no response, and the surface of the lake remained completely still.
The Sanbi was a patient creature. It had to be, since it had spent nearly a century sealed into one object or another. I almost felt sorry for it, and would have, if it had bothered to show up even once.
"I don't have any intention of dying any time soon, so you're going to be stuck with me for a while," I continued talking to an empty audience. But the Sanbi was listening—I was certain of it. "So we might as well get to know each other."
Still nothing.
I sighed. Our previous sessions had always ended up like this, with me just sitting on the ledge until Kushina shook me out of my trance. She encouraged me to talk to the Sanbi, so that's what I usually did. I would talk about everything; how my day went, my life in Kiri, everything I could think of. Eventually, I would run out of things to say, and the rest of the time would be spent in silence.
Not once did the Sanbi ever send some kind of reply.
Personally, I thought that the Sanbi just wanted nothing to do with me. Kushina said it was just shy, which I found ridiculous, because a beast the size of a small mountain couldn't possibly be shy. It probably knew that if it ignored me long enough, I would go away, which was usually the case.
Well, not today, I decided as I stood up. I wasn't going to wait for the Sanbi to find me. This time, I was going to find it.
I took a deep breath and jumped off the ledge.
There was a knock on the door, and Minato looked at the clock. It was late, and he didn't have any appointments for the rest of the day.
"Come in," he said, his eyes still scanning through a recent mission report.
The door creaked open and his secretary, a bespectacled middle-aged woman, poked her head through the gap. "Hokage-sama, Chunin Mitarashi Anko wishes to see you."
He looked up in surprise. Anko's head popped in underneath his secretary's, looking nervous as his eyes met hers.
"Let her in," he decided. If Anko had something she felt needed to be said to him at this hour, Minato wouldn't stop her.
The purple-haired girl shuffled her way in, and his secretary closed the door as she left.
"I don't bite," Minato said in amusement, noting how Anko seemed overly conscious of her every action as she made her way to the chair in front of him.
"Sorry Hokage-sama," the girl said as she sat down. "I'm just having second thoughts. Maybe I should have talked to Orochimaru-sensei first."
"Yes." Minato nodded in agreement. "You should have." Really, it wasn't like the Hokage had time to hear the grievances of every ninja under him. Anko's presence here was more of an exception, and only because he was just about done with today's paperwork. "But why didn't you?" he asked, slightly curious. Anko had a fairly good relationship with her teacher, though her teacher was Orochimaru, so it couldn't have been that good.
She looked embarrassed. "Well, because it concerns Kagura. And Rin."
Minato froze slightly at hearing that, but Anko, still too self-conscious to notice, continued talking.
"And Sensei didn't really know Rin all that well, and this is kind of an emotional issue, so I thought that Sensei wasn't really the best person to go to. But then I didn't know who else to go to, and then I remembered that you knew Rin and Kagura, but you're also the Hokage and I-"
"Okay Anko, I get it," Minato interrupted her softly, suppressing the slight ache that began to grow in his chest. "Yes, I think going to me about this was a better choice," he agreed. "So? What happened?"
"Something... happened at Rin's wake," Anko said, sounding unsure of herself.
Minato narrowed his eyes. He had been there, and nothing had seemed amiss.
"Not a physical event," Anko quickly corrected herself. "But something within Kagura. Something not right."
He leaned in, genuinely curious about Anko's observations. Did it involve the Sanbi?
"When I brought him to her wake, he was quite upset. He was more quiet than normal, and he seemed very reserved in his actions."
"That's... fairly normal. I'm sure I behaved the same way," confessed Minato. He didn't want to think about it, but he could confidently say that he'd become withdrawn during that period.
"No, that wasn't the weird part," Anko said as she shook her head. "It was after the wake."
"Was he behaving strangely?" Minato asked.
"That's the thing!" Anko suddenly exclaimed, "he wasn't! He was perfectly normal, behaving like Rin hadn't died at all. I thought he was hiding it, but that doesn't make sense, because he didn't hide it before the wake. And just yesterday, when I asked him whether he was still sad over Rin's death, do you know what he said to me?"
Minato could feel a frown already starting to form. A disturbing realization began to dawn upon him, but he still gestured for Anko to continue.
Anko swallowed and took a deep breath. "He said, 'no, Tsunade's return more than makes up for it. Konoha is stronger for it.'"
Minato clenched his fists. He didn't know how to react to those words. There was pain. There was anger. There was disappointment. But a small part of him felt deeply sympathetic for Kagura.
"And I got so angry, because Rin treated him like a little brother whenever he was in the hospital. How could he say such a thing? After all that she's done for him, he suddenly thinks of her as a stranger!"
Minato knew what was going on. Kagura had cut Rin out his life, at least from an emotional standpoint. He didn't like it, not one bit, but yet he couldn't blame the boy. Kagura was eight. He might have been a genius, but his heart was still that of a child's. Hadn't Kakashi been like this too? He knew no other way of coping with pain except by eradicating the source.
"And when I tried to scold him about it and remind him just how nice Rin had been to him, he just looked really detached and apathetic, and I think... I think that Kagura really has stopped caring about Rin, at least ever since the wake. That's why I think something must have happened, and since you were there..." she trailed off, looking up to him, probably hoping for some kind of explanation.
Minato forced himself to smile at Anko. It took a lot of effort, but he hoped it looked sincere. "Thank you, Anko. For letting me know about this."
Anko blushed, scratching the back of her head sheepishly. "Ah, it's no problem at all, Hokage-sama! I... I was only just looking out for my dear Kouhai. Actually, I should be thanking you, for listening to me." Then her face turned slightly serious again. "But... is this something we should worry about?"
"I am aware of this... habit of his. You don't have to worry, Anko. Kagura will not get into any trouble and hopefully, he won't be causing any either," Minato reassured her.
The girl seemed to take it as a dismissal, getting up and bowing to him. Minato waved as she left, but she suddenly stopped at the door.
"Hokage-sama." Anko sounded worried. Scared, even. "Will... will Kagura ever do that to me?"
Minato gave her a smile. An honest one, this time. "If he does, I promise you that Orochimaru and I will kick his ass."
An annoying trait of human beings was that we only realized our mistakes when it was already too late.
Like now; I was plummeting towards the Sanbi's pool with no means of stopping.
On hindsight, something as reckless and stupid as this was exactly the kind of thing I should have been doing in front of Kushina. It wasn't something I should be doing in a unsupervised location like my home—my home, which was situated in the heart of Konoha, where a good proportion of the population resided.
This wasn't good. It was night time, and most people would be asleep, unaware and unprepared if a sudden crisis occurred.
A sudden crisis like a Bijuu suddenly becoming unleashed.
This wasn't good at all, I concluded.
And then I hit the water.
That's when I realized my second mistake.
This wasn't water at all.
My whole body burned in agony, and a barrage of bubbles erupted from my mouth as I let out a silent scream. It wasn't exactly hot, but I could feel my skin peeling off from touching whatever this substance was. I tried to paddle up to the surface, but something wasn't right. It was too thick, too viscous, and it hugged me tightly, refusing to let me go. It was like being stuck in a jar of honey. I could feel myself sinking in deeper as I struggled.
I couldn't breathe—I had let out all the air in my body with my earlier scream, and I was quickly running out of oxygen.
My vision became hazy as pain and fatigue began to overwhelm me. I could see my arms in front of me. The healthy pink layer of skin was gone, revealing a bloody mess of muscle and flesh. Even though my body was disintegrating at an alarming rate, my mind still raced to understand the sudden turn of events I found myself in.
This was chakra, I realized. This was the Sanbi's chakra, the energy and lifeblood of a Bijuu. No wonder my body couldn't handle it; it was like trying to touch acid.
Jumping in here had been a terrible mistake. By crossing the threshold into the lake... I was now in the Sanbi's domain. I had delivered myself, its captor, to it on a silver platter. All it needed to do was kill me, or even do nothing at all, and once my psyche was destroyed, the Sanbi would have free reign.
It could destroy Konoha.
So this was it. This was how I was going to die. Not at the hands of an enemy. Not by old age or illness. My demise would come because I acted on a momentary impulse and made a stupid decision.
How utterly shameful.
Anko would probably throw a fit—This was way worse than stabbing myself—but she'd probably be more sad than angry.
Kushina would be heartbroken. It could even affect the pregnancy.
Minato, as Hokage, would have to deal with the aftermath of the Sanbi's release. He'd have to clean up my mess.
Orochimaru would probably just scoff and shake his head, muttering something about me being an idiot of an apprentice.
Then there was Itachi. How would Itachi react, I wondered? She'd probably just accept it and move on.
However, all these postulations were useless if they died in the Sanbi's inevitable rampage. It was a Bijuu, and they were mere humans. There would be little they could do.
Many people would die. I would die.
Terrible, terrible things were going to happen because I messed up. I didn't want them to.
The water in front of my began to bubble, and a white wall blocked my vision for a few seconds. It quickly dissipated.
I would have screamed, or at least gasped, if I had any air left in me.
I'd never seen the Sanbi up close before. It was right in front of me, and I was certain I could touch it if I reached out.
Not that I was going to try.
It was huge, bigger than I remembered it to be. Its body was heavily armored with gray bony plates, and spikes jutted out of them randomly. Pinkish-red flesh leaked through the small chinks in its joints. Its meat looked firm and hard, and I knew the behemoth in front of me packed as much power in its muscles as it did in chakra.
Its face was surprisingly human-like, though it was armored as well, barring the lone eye it seemed to reveal. It even had a nose.
This was the Sanbi, the scourge of the seas that had plagued Water Country with tidal waves and storms for centuries before it was sealed. And now it was in front of me. And soon, it would be set loose in the middle of Konoha.
I didn't feel scared. It wouldn't help, not in a situation like this. Everything felt too surreal, and I was in too much pain to actually comprehend if the Bijuu was exuding any bloodlust at all.
My lungs felt tight. I was losing feeling in my limbs, drowning in the pool of a Bijuu's chakra. I hadn't heard of anybody dying this way before. Maybe I was the first. I wanted to laugh. After everything I went through, that was my sole accomplishment. Except maybe the Petal Star Jutsu, but since I hadn't taught it to Orochimaru yet, it would die with me, and I would leave no legacy behind.
Konoha might be destroyed, but I didn't want to count that, since it would technically be the Sanbi's doing.
A sense of emptiness overcame me as I finally came to terms with the end. There were a lot of things I'd never gotten to figure out or understand. But at least there was one goal I had managed to achieve.
I stared at the Sanbi defiantly. After so many tries, I'd finally made real contact with it.
Oh. what the hell; if I was going to die now, I might as well actually give it a try.
I reached out to touch it, though I never found out if I succeeded because I lost consciousness right before contact.
A/N: It's a rather short chapter, but personally I like where it ended. You guys probably don't, though. Oh well, cliffhangers ftw.
Read. Fav. Follow. Review! 4 steps to greatness!