Well here's Chapter 21!

Yeah I know, I promised chapters cause I thought my spare time would be full of sunshine and buttercups... two operations and six months later I've only just managed to get my life back in order... only to be confronted with the Naruto Cannon plot fluctuating between reasonable and pretty crap :| ffnet throwing a non-uploading tantrum and tons of bloody exams!

Sucks to be me :3

Anyways, here's what happened last chapter:

We had a brief memory of the days before the infamous Suna mission.

Naruto and Raidou are making their way towards friendly territory, where Sasuke and Kensuki are being treated after their battle with the Ichibi.

Kisame and the Hokage were injured and the Sannin resurrected Shisui, Motoko and Fugaku in order to win the battle. The Uchiha heir was forced to kill them all once again and Itachi has vowed to end Orochimaru once and for all...

Naruto spent most of the trip lagging a few steps behind the scarred Chunin, his eyes downcast yet his feet didn't miss their target. He wondered what would happen when they finally managed to get back behind Konoha's lines of defense, would he still be put back behind bars? He found that he just couldn't bring himself to care. An exploding tag fizzled past his ear, sailing into the abandoned street below, yet he was too deep in thought to register the blinding flash or flying debris. Raidou wasn't oblivious however and chose to curse softly under his breath as they sprinted onwards in the hope that the creator of the tag wouldn't choose them as their next victims.

It was only two sectors away and Naruto could see the imposing block of green roofed apartments that served as the area boundary... or what remained of it. The cream walls, usually covered with childish posters about new toys or upcoming movies or the next in the series of Icha Icha book, were charred and smoking. One of the walls were completely missing, gaping the furniture like vital organs. Naruto couldn't tear his eyes away from the tombstone like construction.

Had anyone been hurt in the struggle? What a stupid question, there was no doubt that there were hundreds of people dead. Civilians would not be spared, it wasn't a mission... this was full out warfare. The Suna and Oto nins weren't taking prisoners; they wanted to obliterate Konoha entirely, until not a single child remained. Was Konoha really hated this much?

Raidou dropped into the next dingy, damp, disgusting alley, motioning for the blond haired ex-Anbu to do the same. Seconds later, just above their heads, a platoon of masked Suna ninja flew past. Suna Anbu. Only about 12 or so, a relatively small platoon for such outright combat, Naruto felt his palms itch as the need to take them down overpowered his senses, but Raidou was already moving. He waited a few seconds longer, icy blue eyes still staring in the direction of the enemy Anbu, before he followed. He jumped the puddle of suspicious, crimson sludge and narrowly avoided falling into the brown haired man's back when he suddenly stopped once more. Naruto sighed. The man was far too cautious and they were practically in friendly territory now.

The curdling smell of rotten flesh and stagnant blood reached his nostrils. There had obviously been a large skirmish nearby not too long ago… Who had won? Finally the man darted forwards and Naruto dawdled after him, rather enjoying acting like such a petulant child. He decided it was time to make up for the occasions when he had been expected to be mature when all he'd really wanted to do was curse and pout. Raidou hadn't noticed that he was still making his way across the street, slowing in order to kick a kunai or stub out a smoldering exploding tag that had failed to ignite properly. Naruto continued to move forward at a pace that couldn't even be considered civilian.

When Raidou did eventually notice, he just sighed and continued onwards. If the boy wanted a combat situation, he was not going to help him find one. The ex-Anbu got bored of his game and rapidly caught up to the scarred man, not bothering to apologise or explain his behaviour. Raidou hadn't been waiting for one.

"Your little friends just got back to base." He murmured softly, aware that too much noise would bring Suna-nin crashing down around his ears "They just got past the marker."

Naruto nodded with a grim expression and noticed that Raidou didn't bother to ask questions that he would have asked any other child his age. There were no 'Are you doing okay?' or 'Is anything wrong?' and it made Naruto feel a little annoyed. He knew it was wrong to want to commit a 'teensy, little bit of revenge' during a war time crisis, but it was only really harmless fun, and he needed to escape from the brown haired Chunin without crushing his confidence.

"We need to hurry up." Raidou murmured softly, the blond agreeing in quiet monotone. The Chunin turned his back for one second, when his eyes swiveled back to the blond prisoner, all he saw was a figure disappearing in a blur of pure speed. Raidou could only sigh in exasperation as he formed the seals for a shunshin, feeling the rapid rush of chakra and the sudden sense of vertigo.

That idiot.

By the time Raidou arrived in friendly territory, he was overpowered by the sense of complete and utter panic. Bodies were rushing left, right and centre. There were Genin, Chunin... the Anbu were everywhere, attempting to regain control on the hysterical mob of supposed ninja. The older Chunin and Jounin were attempting to help, but they understood the reason for the wide spread hysteria. This was their first true combat situation since the last Great War. Raidou spun quickly, his dark, chocolate eyes were searching for that familiar mop of sunny blond, but Naruto was nowhere to be seen.

The Chunin captain cursed.

Had it all been a ploy?

He quickly scanned the surrounding area. This had obviously been a meeting hall of some sort, but the entire roof had been blown away by a super powered jutsu or an amazingly large summons, the terracotta tiles and peach walls were scattered around the surrounding area, hindering the process of control. The acidic stench of burning flesh, congealing blood and bile made his nostrils sting and his eyes begin to water. The green roofed apartment buildings were looking slightly better, although only slightly. This side of the building had been completely demolished, making it appear as if the building had been sliced in half. Many of the Konoha-nin had stationed themselves by the windows, offering meager defense but Raidou knew it would lead to scrambled information reports.

He thought he could taste ash in his mouth as he swallowed. Could this be one of Konoha's last days? He could see a make shift first aid tent, stationed in the very middle of the secure territory. The white material, a hastily constructed first aid banner, flapped forlornly in the stormy breeze.

Perhaps Naruto had headed there to find the Uchiha and his friend? He threw himself forwards, slamming through the almost impenetrable throng of panicking bodies, no hesitating to smash shoulders or elbow someone in the soft, tender flesh of their stomachs. He needed to get through to the first aid he finally burst through the bloodied and dirtied tent flaps, giving the medic-nin such a fright that she almost attacked him, he was surprised at the amount of groaning and moaning bodies. Once again the ashen feeling rose up his throat and he thought he would lose his breakfast. He could see the Uchiha and the blond haired boy being tended to by a sole, male medic-nin. Compared to many of the injured Konoha-nins, their injuries were not as life-threatening.

"C-can I help you Sir?"

He looked down sharply, finding himself staring into the terrified eyes of the medic-nin he had startled with his rapid entrance. When he looked a little closer, he was surprised to see how young she was. The Medic-nin Chunin badge wasn't present on the sash around her waist. It had originally been pure, snow white, now it was a mockery of that colour, splashed in red and brown. He glanced around quickly, searching for any sign of the elusive idiot that he had lost just minutes earlier, but like before, he wasn't there. He gave the young Genin and soft smile in a hurried attempt to reassure the trembling girl.

"N-no, it's nothing."

He spun on his heel and found himself outside in the madness one more. Somebody needed to take control... quickly. Far above the floor, something caught his eye. The Anbu were clustered together on the third floor of the ruined apartment building, having turned their efforts away from herding the people like sheep and now appeared to be planning a different approach. Raidou just watched them in curiosity for a few minutes, simultaneously searching for the elusive blond. Had he left the area entirely? Perhaps he was in a different part of the destroyed meeting hall, hidden from view by the sea of convulsing bodies.

His breath caught in his throat when the familiar whisker marked face appeared from within the masked throng.

"Konoha." That one word, not a question nor a plea like those of the Anbu just ten minutes beforehand, but a statement. A statement that had the panicking people slowly quietening until the entire area was completely silent. The blond was surrounded by the imposing Anbu as if he belonged there as each and every one of the masked men and women stood at attention. Ever so slowly, whispers and rumours begun to fly around the crowd.

"Definitely Kitsune..."

"Has to be..."

"...thought he died."

The blond, Kitsune or Naruto, Raidou wasn't sure, lifted a hand and the whispering ceased as quickly as it had started. The younger Genin and Chunin had stopped to stare at the small blond child, who stood out against the navy blues and pearly purples of the impassive Anbu. Once again, Naruto began to talk, his voice either carried by a jutsu or the charisma of a natural born leader.

"If we continue like this, Konoha will fall." He told them, his young voice ever so serious as it carried through the air "If we continue to fight among ourselves for power, we will be exterminated." Not a person spoke as they stared upwards at the blond haired child; those old enough to remember the last Great Shinobi War were strongly reminded of the Yondaime in the moments before he had entered battle. Some of the more intelligent members of the shinobi did the math, small, triumphant smiles breaking across their weary faces as hope was rekindled by the not so anonymous blond. "If we work together, we can push the Suna invaders from our walls. Is Konoha not based on the value of teamwork? Is that not what we have fought for in the years gone by? Our friends? Our allies?"

There was a soft, breathy chuckle as Naruto seemed to remember a half forgotten memory. "The Sandaime is fighting for your freedom, for your families' freedom, for your children's' freedom... will you not do the same for him?"

It was softly spoken, yet every last person heard those words, they would be recorded in history books for many years to come. There was a moment, so very quiet and still that it felt almost like an eternity, before the entire throng of people erupted into peals of:

"For Konoha!"

It was amazing how quick the Anbu managed to control and manage the crowds, effectively setting up a harbour area with constant patrols and sending out the recon teams in order to spread the words that the orders were coming from the meeting hall.

Slowly. Ever so painfully slowly, Konoha was beginning to find its feet and fight back against the intruders. More and more reports were flowing in about how the enemy lines were falling back to the outer areas of the village and each sector was being regained as friendly territory once more, one at a found himself at the heart of the discussions, being asked whether he approved of an idea or plan of action before it was put in place and for a second the young blond wondered if this was what it would be like to be Hokage. He already knew the answer of course, but there was no harm in asking himself again.

There were masks that he recognised, some of them he could even place names and faces to, mixed within a throng of much younger Anbu members who hung on the fringes of the battle preparations. There was one mask that really caught his eye though, the sweeping dark lines and oh so familiar eye decorations. He pondered for a moment, thinking about the pros and cons of the plan he was about to embark upon, then he stood to his feet.

"Yama."

The masked figure turned quickly, surprised that the ex-Anbu even knew his codename, before he stammered. "I-I think you've got me mixed up with someone else S-sir."

Naruto smiled gently, a tiny almost unnoticeable smile, but those who had known him in his childhood as Kitsune; bit back the whispers that they urged to share with each other. The blond rarely smiled... ever.

"I'm not mistaken Yama." The boy continued, ignoring the curious stares as many of the bustling Anbu slowed to a stop in order to watch the curious verbal exchange between the year old newbie and the ex-Captain. "You may not be the Yama I knew, but I'm going to trust you with a very important mission."

The restless Anbu had actually screeched to a halt and it was so quiet that Naruto could hear the breath rattling against the inside of Yama's mask. "W-what would that be Sir?"

Naruto spun on his heel, striding back towards the table as the shinobi and konoichi scattered in order to let him continue unhindered. Yama followed him with light footfalls, the way that he gripped the hilt of his barely scuffed ninjato a testament to his well hidden nerves. Naruto quickly spun back again with a dirtied wad of mismatched papers pinned between his thumb and index finger. The blond haired boy quickly proffered them to the silent, dark haired ninja.

"This is a list of people that I want you to retrieve for me, if they ask strange questions like 'What do you want me for?' or start to ramble on about how they're not shinobi'... I want you to ignore them and just come straight back here okay?"

Yama took a few seconds to skim down the list, a few names were familiar such as the Nara and the Ikimichi, but there were a few that he'd never heard of before. He wanted to desperately question the young boy who had quite literally taken them by storm and revolutionised their plans to regain Konoha, but by the way that his captain had squawked when the blond had first arrived, there was no way that this was a normal kid. A Henge maybe? The Sandaime in disguise? The Yondaime in disguise? Yet he restrained all the questions that he wanted to ask and snapped his heels smartly together as he raised a hand in salute.

"Yes sir!"

"Bushou, Tsubame?" His voice was brittle and cold, belying neither fear nor empathy nor compassion. His features were cold and unflinching, surveying the chaos with the air of a seasoned veteran, the people didn't seem to want to get too close to him, going so far as to leave meters in between themselves and the boy. Two of the oldest captains snapped to attention, raising a fist in a salute as they chorused in perfect synchronicity.

"Sir!"

Naruto lazily turned to the two men. Bushou was the eldest, reaching the age where most shinobi chose to retire to a far more simple life. The grizzly, grey haired man had no family to speak of and expressed his desire to serve Konoha until he was killed in action, he was usually charged with the care of Anbu recruits. Naruto respected the man almost as much as the Sandaime or Kakashi.

Tsubame was younger, his raven black hair flecked with silvery strands and his tanned hands were lined and hardened. Three symmetrical scars ran across the hollow of his throat, hidden by the soft navy fabric of his shirt, two of them were no more than silvery lines but the third was an ugly purple. It had been one of the Kumogakure claws, but the particular Kumo-nin had poisoned one of the three blades… it had almost been too late for medic-nins to save his life.

"The area… is it secure?"

The dark haired Tsubame was the one who answered, he had been appointed as the head of communications. "Impeccably Sir. We've managed to regain at least 18 of the enemy sectors, including this one… there are only five left."

Naruto nodded slowly, striding towards the edge of the ruined building in order to survey the devastated landscape, smoke and flame tainting the blood red sky, the dying sun illuminating the last of the storm clouds. "The stadium?" The words almost sounded like they had been dragged from the boy's throat, bitter resentment clear in his frosty tones.

"Still under enemy influence, although our reports tell us that Sharingan Kakashi has taken control of the situation. It's only a matter of hours until the stadium is ours once again Sir."

"Thank you Tsubame." Naruto continued to stare over the buildings as if he was staring over a never-ending sea, his cerulean eyes didn't even blink as the wind blew acrid smoke over the area. "Don't let me detain you any longer."

Taking that as his cue to leave, the Anbu saluted smartly before twisting on his heels and disappearing within the ranks of now-organised elites of Konoha's ninja forces. Naruto turned his attention to Bushou, who had yet to move from his position by the burnt and blackened desk.

"There has been no word on the Sandaime?" The arctic exterior almost cracked as the soft, lilting tones returned. The boy was clearly worried for his esteemed leader, a man that had treated him almost as a son, was battling a powerful enemy. They didn't know whether he'd live to see another day.

"There has been nothing Kitsune-sama."

The blond boy winced, his eyes a curious mixture between furious and self-loathing. He ran a tanned palm through his vibrant yellow hair, tinged by the crimson light of the setting sun, tugging a little more forcefully than was needed. A tiny moment of weakness, something that the young leader was more than happy to flaunt. "If you have to address me Bushou-taichou, please do not call me by that name. Kitsune is no longer an active identity, nor do I enjoy being reminded of the past."

"Then if you may speak out of turn, then so will I." Bushou murmured, his low, earthy voice clear in Naruto's ears, yet it wasn't strong enough to carry to the others "If it is not Kitsune, then I shall address you as the Godaime, Hokage-sama."

Naruto was silent for a second.

"That could be called treason."

Bushou nodded, his expression hidden by the porcelain mask that was decorated with an array of colors and shapes, the original design lost beneath the thousands of artistic swirls and scrapes.

"It could." The old shinobi agreed with a wistful whisper.

"You could lose your captaincy, be forced into an early retirement, never able protect Konoha from her enemies just because you had a foolish, drawn out hope in a reject like me." Naruto chuckled, but his eyes were glassy and his mouth was curled up into a brutal, unfeeling smile.

"Yet we still follow you... do we not?" The man swept an arm over the organised crowd a few stories below "An individual that has no more than a civilian status... Who has already abandoned his duty once before."

Naruto didn't wince. He wouldn't allow himself to show such weakness at the truth. He was done running from the past now.

"There was a reason that the council chose you." Bushou supplied, his rigid, trained posture not slipping once.

"The council are fools." Naruto spat back quickly, drawing more than one concerned glance from the other Konoha-nin who were becoming apprehensive of the short, icy tempered boy and what he might do to their adored captain.

"That they are." Bushou chuckled, his deep, satin-like voice belying his aged appearance. The sound was soothing on the ears and on the soul. "But are we not all fools?"

This time the ex-Anbu didn't reply, his posture had slipped from rigid indignance to one of weary acceptance. The grizzly, grey haired captain took this as his sign to step forward, no longer kept at bay by such aloof behavior. He stood shoulder to shoulder with his temporary commander, his sharp grey eyes taking in every single expression of pain, sadness and hope that was conveyed in the thousands of faces below him in the bare bones of the destroyed meeting hall. There had been a reason for the young commander to call him, but so far he hadn't explained why, Bushou just stood and watched the sinking sun fall behind another dark cloud and hummed softly to himself as the foreboding, thunderous cloud was haloed in glowing golden light.

It really was beautiful.

"There are four people in the world that the Hokage trusts with vital information." Naruto murmured quietly "Perhaps there's really only three now… I don't remember the last time he accepted my judgment on any vital matters."

Bushou nodded. Listening.

"Hatake Kakashi is another." Naruto listed the man off on one finger, counting each name down as he spoke "As well as Uryu Yoimaru and then… well then there's you."

The old man tensed, his shoulders hunching together as if he expected a physical confrontation. The blond watched the subtle reaction to his statement and sighed wearily.

"Bushou…" This time there was no sign that the man had heard him speak but the blond didn't push his words any further allowing them to slip back into uncomfortable silence. An explosion in the far distance, probably just outside the imposing stone walls of Konoha, threw dust and dirt into the air. Was it an ally or an enemy? Was anyone injured? A platoon of Konoha-nin were silhouetted by the setting sun, their dark, long shadows streaking across the rooftops as they darted out of view, no doubt pursuing their unfortunate enemies. The lookouts that were stationed at the highest points in the area were relaying coordinates to their accomplices on the ground, that would then bring the information to the head of defense.

It was a beautiful sight to behold, like a perfect, lethal clockwork war machine.

"What can you tell me of Uchiha Itachi's reappearance?"

"But you've already tried to kill me once Itachi-kun." Orochimaru purred as he slithered forwards, his clammy cold hands reaching forwards as if he wanted to brush against the pale skin of the boy's cheek "You failed."

Kisame growled as he checked the Hokage's vital signs. Blood had drenched the front of his sleek black battle suit, the battered golden colored armor stained copper in places where the ruby red liquid had dripped.

"Be careful Itachi." The blue skinned Kiri-nin muttered, although the dark haired boy gave no sign that he had heard his friend at all, his attention was focused on the man stood barely five meters away.

"There was only one reason that you remained alive." Itachi felt like he was burning up on the inside, as if flames were curling and spreading and twisting behind his ribs, scorching his skin from the inside out. Anger?

"Oh yes?" The deathly pale man hissed, his pleasure of the bloodshed that surrounded him was more than obvious and it made the dark haired boy feel sick. This was the man that he had admired as a child? This was the man that had influenced him to fly through the shinobi ranks? It made him feel more than just sick. Orochimaru watched the silent, motionless teen with beady yellow eyes, the scent of subdued anger tantalizing to his delicate senses. Iif only the boy would let him have a taste of that power.

"It was a promise." The murmur was so quiet, so subdued, that the Sannin could barely hear the words over the roar of the dying ninja in the stadium far below. Were they Oto-nin? Were they Suna-nin? How about Konoha-nin? Were there corpses down there that he could name? Others that he had fought with? A malevolent chuckle rattled at the back of his throat.

"A promise? You Konoha shinobi and you're stupid, pathetic, worthless values!" It escalated from a breathy whisper to a crazed scream, but the boy stood in front of him had not flinched.

"It was a promise not to kill you."

"And who made you promise a thing like that hmm?" Orochimaru pretended to play the question as if he was merely humoring an inquisitive child but he really was curious. Who commanded enough power to prevent Itachi from exacting out his revenge?

"There were two people."

Red, Sharingan eyes blazed to life once more, seeming to draw in the crimson rays of the falling sun. Orochimaru quickly looked down, he had yet to fit the last piece of his plan into place and he couldn't risk it by making eye contact with the Uchiha. He'd let the boy think he had the upper hand.

"One was your mentor, a man who may have once called you son." The Hokage, an old, senile wretch of a shinobi that did not deserve a place amongst the most respected ninja of all time. Orochimaru knew that the old man wanted to forgive him and foolishly hoped that he might one day return to the village but he never expected the man to force that belief onto others. If the Hokage was one… who was the other?

"The second didn't ask in order to save your life, in fact the very opposite. He wanted to kill you himself, with his own hands and his own jutsus. He told me once or twice of his plans-" More than once or twice in reality, Itachi could reiterate the plans without a single fault "-and any pain that you receive today would have been doubled many times over had he been the one to catch you."

Who was it? There were many people that had wanted him dead over the years, even before he had split away from Konoha…

"Who?" Orochimaru rasped in fury, his amber eyes widening in anger as his nails dug into his palm "Who?"

Itachi smiled as his hands slotted together to make an unfamiliar jutsu seal.

"Namikaze Naruto."

Orochimaru couldn't even reply. The Yondaime's name… his son? The container of the Kyuubi no yoko? He could hardly believe it. Quickly jumping into action once again, Orochimaru retrieved the sword of Kusanagi once more, comforted by the familiar weight that rested in the palm of his hand as he grinned. No matter how skilled Itachi was, there was no way that he knew the full capability of the sword that he wielded. The Ama no Murakumo no Tsurugi, the Sword of the Gathering Clouds of Heaven.

"But there are times when one must break promises."

Orochimaru spun, suddenly aware that the Uchiha was no longer in sight. The boy must have slipped away when his attention had been elsewhere.

"Like now!"

The Snake Sannin barely dodged the descending blade and had he not deflected it with the Kusanagi, then it would have skewered him in half. There was no way that he could have evaded death had it not been for the mystical sword. The eerie glow of orange chakra, almost like heatless flames, caught his attention and his eyes snapped up. Itachi was surrounded by the wild, orange tendrils of chakra that snapped and spat with the fury of true flames and in his hand sat a flaming, golden sword with a gourd-like hilt. The Kusanagi sang to its brother and the Totsuka returned its sorrowful song.

'How can that be?' Orochimaru thought to himself as he felt his chest tighten in well concealed fear 'I've been searching for that sword for all my life and have never found a trace!'

The fizzling orange chakra had begun to take shape behind the boy, bending and twisting until the stream of bright chakra had faded into delicate strands the color of red tainted orange, like the surly glow of a slowly dying fire. They looked like wings, extending from behind the boy's back towards the very edges of the purple barrier that his loyal Oto-nin had constructed around him, although they were by no means the soft, angelic wings that he had seen in picture books, instead each feather looked as sharp as glass and as strong as steel.

What…what was this?

Itachi leapt forwards, not bothering to distract the Snake Sannin's attention, it would all be over in minutes. Orochimaru may believe that he was undefeatable, with a sharp mind and quick reflexes and no morals to restrict his actions, but Itachi knew that he was better than the pale skinned man. The Kusanagi and Totsuka met in a sorrowful shower of glowing sparks, they were blades that were supposed to be used side-by-side, not on opposite sides as enemies.

"If you just came with me-" Orochimaru grunted as the heavy blow momentarily robbed his breath "Your brother would be safe!"

The pause that followed was exploited by the silver Kusanagi and drew blood, but still Itachi didn't show any signs of a slipping composure, his face remained emotionless.

"If you were dead, we'd both be safe." Itachi growled and Orochimaru almost made the mistake of making eye contact with the dark haired boy in his surprise. When his eyes hit the floor, he noticed how much blood had been splattered across the light tan tiles and it made him smile. Itachi may have been better in hand-to-hand combat, he may be faster but he couldn't hold out as long as Orochimaru could. The years that he had spent, slowly increasing his strength and jutsu prowess, had given him the one thing that he could use in order to defeat Itachi. The boy could just activate his Mangekyou Sharingan, but for some reason he had yet to rely on his bloodline limit… why?

The Totsuka clashed once again, the sizzling heat of the gourd-hilted sword burning at his skin as it got a little too close. What kind of powers did this golden sword possess? What kind of god-like powers did it grant the lithe dark-haired boy? The coiling gossamer wings still hung in the air, fragile threads that appeared to be as delicate as crystal but no matter how hard the traitorous Snake Sannin tried, he couldn't dispel the smoldering orange phantom chakra.

"You're getting slower." Orochimaru chuckled dryly, pointing out Itachi's fatal flaw, he was built for rapid speed and ridiculous output of strength, not for long drawn out battles like this. "You're not going to win."

Itachi was still silent, appearing to let the comment wash over his head, but inside his stony composure was fissuring. It was a possibility that he may lose… his arms and legs were feeling heavier by the second and the wound on his side was searing in teeth-clenching pain. He had maybe a minute left to finish it. Less than 60 seconds. There was one last opportunity, one last chance before Kisame would have to step in and Itachi would never achieve his revenge, or the weight of Naruto's own murderous drive. They were at a standstill, which bought him a few more seconds to put the finishing touches to his plan. With a quick flick of his wrist, a mixture of senbon, shuriken and kunai closed the distance between him and his enemy.

Orochimaru was distracted by the glint of the steel projectiles so that when he looked back up, he was confronted with three carbon copies of the Uchiha male, each and every one of them carrying an almost visually perfect copy of the golden, flaming Totsuka. The only problem was, a sword like the Totsuka couldn't be copied. The cloned version appeared to be the same, felt the same as it sliced into warm flesh, but the same supernatural properties could not be captured in one simple jutsu. The three clones lunged forward and Orochimaru wondered at what angle the boy was attempting to take this attack at. It was easy enough to avoid the three Itachi's when they were diving forward so recklessly, leaving an easy escape route.

He pushed upwards, allowing the chakra to propel him towards the sky and he soared free for a brief moment, sneering at the cool, calm gaze of the Uchiha prodigy. His fingers flittered through a futon jutsu but he suddenly stopped as he body jerked into paralysis.

'W-what?'

Red, windmill eyes melted into existence just a few centimeters in front of his face.

"This is it." The deep, serious voice echoed in his ears as blinding cold pain shot through his chest "This is it."

He tried to say something, but all that passed his lips was blood tinged spittle and his chest ached. The flare of fiery pain shot through his entire body and he was hit with the sudden realization that the flames of the Totsuka were slowly consuming his soul…

'I haven't learned all there is to learn!' He wailed, attempting to thrash his arms wildly as his vision slowly began to fade into darkness 'There are still so many things I need to know!'

The screams of a tortured soul should have repulsed him, yet as Itachi continued to stare into the panic-ridden amber depths of the sick, twisted man who had once been his hero, the sound was a sweet as birdsong. Now he knew that Orochimaru would be eternally trapped inside the nightmarish genjutsu with no hope of escape… the snake could no longer slither out of his grip. The sword of Totsuka shuddered in revulsion as the last dregs of the filthy, contaminated soul disappeared into the gourd-like hilt. Itachi could feel the last of his chakra begin to run dry and the sword slipped through his fingers and splashed to the floor, no longer able to keep its form in the physical plane. It hissed and spat, the orange liquid appearing to seep into the very roof stones as the sun ran away and plunged the world into darkness. Itachi felt the world swing on its axis and the floor begun to hurtle towards his face. His arms wouldn't respond to his attempts to stop his descent, but all he could do was brace himself for the contact with the concrete. His body suddenly halted and he heard a soothing voice in his ear as his eyes rolled back into his head.

'M-mother?'

Thanks for all the lovely reviews *blush* I was so happy that you're all enjoying it so much!

And yup, my plans to 'become a cool old cranky person who can tell the weather by their bones' have been set into motion :D