The Girl From Whirlpool
Chapter Twenty-Six: Awakening
"Minato-kun, I have to say this is an improvement. A vast improvement indeed."
Orochimaru chuckled to himself as he waved long, white fingers before Minato's face to test his reaction – and gained none. For all appearances, the young jonin had frozen in place, unaware of Orochimaru and the room around him, as if time had stopped. The man he had been attempting to release was still barely conscious, though he shakily reached out with his freed arm to grope at Minato's unflinching one. "Help... me..."
A wide leer of amusement split Orochimaru's face as he peered down at his pathetic prisoner. "What are you asking him for? He can no more help you now than any one of these useless corpses," he said, spreading his arms wide to present the various bodies suspended against the walls. "But matters are now drawing to a close and I believe I have reached the limits of my research here. I will have to move, and you... you have served your purpose."
Blood spurted outwards in one swift downward stroke; the Suna nin gasped in a mixture of relief and suffering and rolled his head. Though his eyes never closed, the moment life fled them was unmistakable, like watching lights being extinguished in darkness... something Minato had grown used to seeing, but never quite like this. The blood spatter dripped down his face – he could feel its warmth and thickness but he couldn't wipe it away. He couldn't react.
His body was paralysed, severed from his control as brutally as the limbs had been severed from these cadavers. A claustrophobic feeling set in. He was trapped inside his own body, nothing but a pair of eyes helpless to watch Orochimaru sedately wiping his kunai clean on his sleeve.
Sliding his weapon back out of sight in his belt, Orochimaru gracefully tucked a sheet of inky black hair behind an ear. Never once did his smile slip throughout the brutal execution. "Now where were we? Oh, that's right. Since you're here... perhaps you can assist me? Follow me, Minato-kun."
Like hell, thought Minato. But his body was already moving, pushing away from the table in a faintly lumbering fashion, and following Orochimaru's form through to another room. With the sannin's back turned, now would be a prime time to strike and kill – no one who saw this lair would blame him. Minato tried with all his might to draw his hand up, to reach for one of his weapons... but all he detected was a faint tremor in his fingers before his will subsided.
"Don't resist, Minato-kun," Orochimaru said softly without turning to him. Minato wouldn't put it past him to literally have eyes on the back of his head. "I control your very blood from your arteries to your capillaries... if you resist too strongly, you will snap your own blood vessels or tear your heart to pieces. Please be mindful."
What had this bastard done?
There was a furnace in the room he was brought to; it burned steadily in the corner, filling the air with a hot, acrid smell. Though Minato couldn't wilfully direct his gaze toward it, out of the corner of his eye he saw more buckets of limbs and lumpy body-bags too small to be adults.
Was this what happened the rest of the children?
"Sit." Orochimaru pointed at a solitary chair against the wall. Minato sat, inwardly raging at the unquestioning obedience he'd been forced into.
"You'll have noticed this is no ordinary paralysis," the sannin said, removing a scroll from his vest. "Believe me, I think this is some of my finest work, Minato-kun. I've had a lot of time to prepare this."
He unravelling the scroll with almost loving care, and turned it for Minato to see. A jutsu, clearly, and it almost looked like a summoning contract... except it was entirely written in blood.
"Yes, that's your blood. It's been most useful to me," Orochimaru told him, almost like a friendly physician to a patient if this was not a slaughterhouse. He couldn't have been more at this man's mercy if he'd been the one naked and tied to that table. "Surely Minato-kun, you know the power of blood in our profession. You really should think twice before giving it so freely... even to such trustworthy men such as myself. You have only yourself to blame. Did you really believe I had any interest in your miserable ancestry?"
How had he ever believed anything Orochimaru had ever told him? It had been so easy to dismiss him as an eccentric, or even just a little bit of a creep... impossible to think that his sensei's own teammate and a student of the Hokage himself could be capable of such depravity. Yet here, surrounded by the grizzly evidence, Orochimaru's eerie smile finally made sense. This insanity had a context.
"One-sided conversations are so dull, don't you think?" said the sannin, running his finger across the scroll's tapestry of blood scripts. "I think we can afford to loosen a few binds at least... genius must be acknowledged after all."
Minato's tongue was suddenly his own again. His eyes darted around the room, under his control again, as he took several greedy breaths like a man submerged for too long. Whatever relief he felt was tempered when the rest of him remained frustratingly numb to his commands. Snapping a furious glare on Orochimaru, he barked, "What have you done to me?"
"You were proving yourself to be too much of a wild card and I dislike opponents whose moves I cannot anticipate," shrugged Orochimaru, "much better to have you close at hand... more so to have you under my control."
"You'll pay for this!"
"If all you're going to do is shout tedious clichés at me, I'm afraid I'll have to return you to your previous state-"
"Where are the children?"
Orochimaru stared at him, blank with apparent annoyance. "Which children?"
"Like Anko! What did you do with them?"
"That particular batch?" The sannin tilted his head, gaze sliding towards the furnace.
The bottom of Minato's stomach dropped. He had prayed his suspicions were wrong, but now his blood was reaching far past boiling point. "You're sick!" Minato spat. "Once the Hokage finds out about this, you're-"
"Dead? Hardly. The Hokage may once have been a god of shinobi, but these days he's nothing more than an ineffective old man... clearly, since he decided you should be his successor. His ineptitude is illustrated thus. He even knows what I am now, but he is still working up the courage to face me. Which is why we must move quickly, my dear Minato-kun. Time is short."
Even so, there was nothing hurried about the sannin's movement as he went about the room, gathering instruments and scrolls from shelves and cupboards. "You don't know how much it has pleased me that you arrived in time."
"I'm not interested in your schedule," Minato hissed.
"You should be. My plans involve you now, of course."
"For what?" he demanded sharply.
"'For what' he says." Orochimaru shook his head and chidingly clucked his tongue. "You've been a thorn in my side, but you're more use to me alive than dead. Look at yourself. To kill you would be a terrible waste. You've made quite the name for yourself for someone without a clan or a bloodline jutsu, and you've not yet reached your prime even. There was a time when I considered taking you and laying you out on one of my tables to cut through your perfect skin to learn your secrets... but it's your jutsu I want... and no amount of sifting through your blood and bone will tell me how it works."
"I'll tell you how it works," Minato said evenly.
Orochimaru cocked a thin eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Come closer, and I'll whisper it." Then he'd tear his bloody throat out with his teeth if he had to.
With a faint snort, the sannin turned away. "Your cooperation is unnecessary. With this jutsu, you're my puppet, I can control your whole body. I can make you do anything I like, regardless of your will. Would you like a demonstration?"
"Waste as much time as you like. The Hokage's probably on his way right now."
"Minato-kun. Break one of your fingers for me."
His arms were already moving before he had even comprehended the order, the fingers of his right hand wrapped around the ring finger of his left and began to bent it backward, inexorably. "Wait," Minato muttered, fighting for control. The queer feeling that he was watching someone else's limbs moving was shot through with the very real pain that accompanied it. Tendons and ligaments strained. The stretched skin on his palm turned white. He gritted his teeth and held his breath, aware that at any second the bone would snap.
Orochimaru devoured the tension etched in his face greedily, revelling in it. Until he suddenly held up his hand. "Stop."
Minato's hands dropped back onto his lap anticlimactically. His finger throbbed angrily, but at least it wasn't broken.
"I think I've proved my point," said Orochimaru. "No need to go overboard. Who acquires a perfect weapon and then blunts it before they can use it?"
"And what would you use me for?" Minato asked him quietly, dreading the answer.
A further thrill of revulsion rattled his spine as the older man stepped forward and slid a cold fingertip down Minato's cheek. "The possibilities are endless," he said in his silkiest murmur. "You really would make the perfect weapon, but I'm afraid this jutsu can't be sustained indefinitely, and to use you as a weapon would imply I want to wield you. Rather, I would possess you, mind and body."
"I'd rather you kill me now," Minato responded tightly.
Orochimaru sneered at the disgust Minato was unable to hide. "It's a natural progression, you understand. I possess your body right now, but to truly learn your secrets and acquire them for myself, I must possess your mind. I must become you."
"What?" The man had to be insane. This sounded more like rambling nonsense to Minato than genius.
"This body of mine has peaked and will weaken eventually – it's decline has already begun. It has reached its limits and my mind deserves a better host. It deserves youth and vitality and a body that can realise my potential. And you... your body is wasted on such a dull, uncomprehending mind. Why not donate it to a greater cause? For science."
"Science fiction," Minato spluttered. "You're talking about switching bodies? That's not possible."
"Was it not also impossible to bring the dead back to life? Yet the Nidaime Hokage proved the world wrong. Dear Minato-kun, everything was once impossible before some great pioneer made it possible!"
"You think you're a pioneer?" Minato jerked his chin around the room, inviting the sannin to look around. "You've engineered nothing but meaningless slaughter and invited international war! You think people are going to remember you as a pioneering genius? No one's going to remember you as anything but a pasty, mass murdering psychopath who had to be put down – and good riddance!"
Orochimaru was unperturbed. He flicked his hair over his shoulder again and slid a finger over his lips thoughtfully. "I don't care about leaving a legacy since I don't plan on leaving. With this technique I am creating, I will always be here. Immortality is finally within my grasp, Minato-kun. You should be honoured that I have chosen you to be my... first."
Minato felt he did a good job preventing himself from screaming enough vile expletives to make even Kushina blush. Swallowing hard to temper himself, he responded with a cool, "I disagree."
"And I have no further desire to humour you. While I hold your blood, you don't have the luxury of choice." Orochimaru said, and the moment he touched the contract scroll, Minato's miniscule freedom of movement fled. His face went lax and his gaze locked in its previous dead stare. He could have screamed for the frustration that built inside him with no possible outlet.
He would break free of this, he told himself. Once he figured out a way, Orochimaru wouldn't know what had hit him. Minato had to take him down, not just for the safety of others, but because this man deserved it. He'd never felt that way towards anyone before. Minato may have killed more people than he cared to count, but he had never contemplated murder before, pre-meditated and with extreme prejudice.
The sannin wound the scroll shut again with sharp, elegant movements of his hands before tucking it into the pouch on his hip. "There," he said, looking back at Minato. "You really are a much more pleasant sight when your face isn't twisted with such hideous emotions. Quite beautiful, in fact. I certainly won't mind having that face as my own." He leaned in close. "Oh... that's if you survive the curse seal, of course."
Orochimaru was so close, Minato could have said he felt his body heat. But Orochimaru wasn't that different than the corpses he surrounded himself with, and when the sannin laid his hands on Minato's skin, they were so cold they felt like they sapped not only his heat but his life. "To realise your full potential," Orochimaru said, tilting Minato's head back to expose his throat, "is a great gift. The seal will help you do that. There's a nine in ten chance that you'll die, but if that's the case, you would be useless to me anyway. And maybe your odds will be a little better? Like dear Anko-chan, there's a petulant fire in you that demands survival."
As the sannin smiled, Minato could have sworn two of his teeth were elongating. But it wasn't a vampire that he was reminded of... it was a snake. A venomous snake closing in on its paralysed victim to deliver the final bite.
"After you receive this venom, you will sleep deeply," Orochimaru went on softly, almost reassuringly if not for the fact that he was bent over Minato with his lips close enough to brush his throat. "If you wake up... you will be mine."
A ninety percent chance of death? Minato wasn't sure he disliked those odds... not when survival meant more of this. He would rather die than become a tool for Orochimaru to further his barbaric experiments. He was more infuriated that he would be denied a last opportunity to spit in this monster's eyes before those fangs sunk into his throat and did to him what he had done to Anko and the other children he'd used as disposable test subjects.
No... Minato wouldn't die. He refused to. Not until he got his chance at ending this demon.
Orochimaru's breath rolled across his skin. Minato may not have been to move, but every hair on his body rose and tingled in anticipation of the first prick of those teeth. His heart may have been slow, but its beat rang loud in his ears, almost as if the dull thumping noise filled the whole room.
It took him a moment to realise it wasn't his heart.
With a faint hiss of impatience, Orochimaru swung away from him and stood still as the noise faded to silence once more. "It appears someone has broken through my first defence. What uninvited guest is this?" He looked at Minato, considering him. "Did you call for back-up after all? Perhaps you're not as stupid as you seem?"
He whirled back to the equipment he'd gathered, and fetched down another scroll from his collection. This one was less like a document and more like a log. When Orochimaru unravelled it, it took up most of the floor.
"I can't allow the cretins of this village to get their hands on my experiments and data," he said, arranging his provisions over the scroll. "Most of my necessary supplies are already sealed in this scroll... sadly I won't have time to transport the rest. And the subjects...? Well, the ones still alive won't last much longer anyway. I don't suppose it matters now."
Forming his hands into seals, a flash filled the room. Unable to blink voluntarily or shield his eyes, the light made strange bright spots dance on Minato's retina, though when they cleared he could see Orochimaru sealing the scroll tightly with a red rope. All his provisions were now locked inside it.
"You will take this," he said to Minato. "Stand."
With the rest of the rope, he tied the scroll onto Minato's back.
He was being turned into a mule, he thought indignantly. And Orochimaru didn't pack light. There might have been a whole laboratory sealed inside this scroll for how much it weighed. Minato's body didn't complain. It adjusted its posture to take the extra weight like he was nothing more than a beast of burden.
"Take this scroll and meet me by the Valley of the End. Konoha trusts you so no one will stop you... although if they try, you are to dispose of them by any means necessary. And do be careful. That scroll is worth more than your life, and if you at any point attempt to break free of my control, remember my warning and imagine what it must feel like for every blood vessel in your body to burst at once."
Chuckling darkly, Orochimaru approached a naked section of wall and stroked his fingers across it like a lover. Cracks appeared in the solid concrete, revealing a stone door. The sannin pushed it back, exposing the pitch black passage behind it. "You will take this path. Now go!"
Minato's curses were silent, but no less heartfelt as he dashed into the hidden tunnel. Orochimaru sealed the entrance shut behind him, throwing him into darkness. Though he couldn't see, he could hear his feet slapping rapidly against the puddles of condensation as he sped through the narrow passage, wondering where it was leading him and if he was going to crash into a wall.
He had to stop himself somehow. He couldn't remain a mute passenger while he was forced to assist such a heinous lunatic – he had to get his body back under control. If he remained calm and didn't panic, and ignored how disorientating it was to run and not even be in control... he could concentrate on the problem. Rather than try and bring himself to a standing stop, he had to win back his body in more subtle ways.
The tunnel began to slope upwards and with it an ambient haze of light removed the shadows obscuring his path. Beneath his feet, the texture of the ground grew rougher as the walls lost their regular shape and began to slope. This was less of a man made structure and becoming something more natural.
His body slowed as the tunnel grew tighter. His flight was coming to a stop at the end of the path, though it was not another door he found, but a smoother gap between solid rocks. Moonlight poured through it like silver water. Without hesitation, Minato's body forced himself and the scroll through the tight squeeze and stepped out into a dark forest.
Where was he?
His treacherous body paused, as if pondering the same question, looking around to take stock of his surroundings before turning his eyes to look up at the night's sky through the tops of the trees. The faint, orange glow behind him indicated Konoha lay in that direction; its light pollution always a giveaway at such close range. Then his gaze traced the stars, locating the constellations, and following the line of the dipper to the north star that shone like a bright beacon directly ahead. That way would lie the Valley of the End, he realised, for though he'd never been there he knew the gorge was around a hundred miles directly north of Konoha.
As if his body had been listening in on his thoughts, it suddenly began to move again, setting off at a run through the trees in a direct line for the northern star. It must have been taking cues from his subconscious. A body could operate on its own to some degree – it could walk and breath take simple commands – all learned behaviours that were embedded deeper than the conscious mind. But navigating the stars? He could only have unwittingly told himself where to go.
Was it possible to turn off his own mind in this situation? Would that even help or make things worse?
It was when he was vaulting over a fallen tree that something flashed in the corner of his eye. The moonlight reflecting off a leaf? Or a blade? His head turned to catch a whisper of movement through the trees beside him, before two kunai split the air inches from his nose. Warning shots.
Oh hell... he thought, as his body slowed to a stop of its own accord.
"Identify yourself!"
He was already surrounded. Shadows with White masks descended from the trees; faceless ANBU charged with protecting Konoha while so many ninja were being deployed to the border. There was at least one jonin here. Unfortunately, he was also the only other person beside Orochimaru that Minato, in his darkest hours, might have considered giving a deserved kick to the face.
"Minato?" Ren called to him. "What are you doing here?"
Orochimaru's jutsu was not so complicated that it could force him to speak or lie. In response to Ren's question, Minato simply stared. Just walk away, he begged silently. His own body had become a strange, unpredictable thing he couldn't trust. It had only one charge: to get to the Valley and make sure no one got in his way. And here was Ren... proving once again that he existed purely to get in Minato's way. Except this time there was a little more at stake than just Kushina's heart.
Faced with such steadfast vacancy, Ren began to frown. "Last I checked your division was waiting for you at the gates. What are you doing out here alone, Minato?"
There was no way to warn him that he was not looking at Minato, but something far more like a wild animal.
"Why isn't he answering?" asked one of the ANBU outside his line of sight. "What's wrong with his eyes?"
Something was wrong with his eyes?
Ren looked troubled. "They're red, aren't they? I'm not imagining that?"
They were red?
A beat passed before one ANBU began to heft the pole he carried into an offensive stance. "It's not the Yellow Flash. It's a trick."
"It's definitely Namikaze Minato," said an elder Hyuuga.
Ren's hands hovered close to the kunai lining his belt. "He must be under a genjutsu."
"No genjutsu," confirmed the Hyuuga. "His chakra is not in flux."
"Then what the hell is his problem?"
And just as Minato had dreaded, his body shot forward like a coiled spring, so fast the rest of them may have been moving in slow motion. He saw the surprise register on Ren's face as he reached out to seize the other jonin by the vest, about to pull him forward and down onto the kunai Minato was thrusting up.
Kushina was never going to forgive him for this...
But his kunai never found its mark. Inches before it could sink into Ren's belly, Minato pulled back sharply to avoid the metal-tipped pole that plunged between them. The ANBU had interfered.
Ren surged back to a safe distance and Minato's gaze locked onto his new opponent, unable to stop himself automatically judging the range of his long weapon and the strength of its wielder as his body shifted tactics accordingly. The ANBU spun the staff masterfully, advancing on Minato and forcing him backwards, always just one step outside the striking distance. Emboldened by his retreat, the ANBU lurched forward with a violent shout, aiming fast for his chest... but Minato's deft half-step and pivot caused the sharpened staff to slide harmlessly through the air past his ribs. He slammed his arm down, effectively trapping it to his side and tearing it from his opponent's hands.
The staff flashed in a hard circle, cracking the ANBU around the face and knocking the mask clean off his face. Minato didn't get to see how badly the man fell – he had already turned and swept the feet out from beneath the ninja trying to sneak up behind him.
A gap had presented itself in the circle around him; a chance to escape.
So go! he screamed at himself. If this confrontation went on, someone would be killed, and once that happened there would be no going back.
His own comrades and colleagues held back, uncertain what to do with him while they waited for his next move. Minato could have cheered with relief when his own arm tossed aside the staff and charged through the gap left by Ren.
"Stop him!" ANBU shouted in his wake.
"No!" Ren's order rung out clearly. "Let him go... inform the Hokage we have another rogue."
Anything else they said, Minato was soon too far out of earshot to hear. And while his body moved swiftly through the forest without any apparent concern, Minato withdrew into himself, barely aware of the trees that flashed past between snatches of moonlight. He was distinctly and uncomfortable reminded of what had happened the last time the abductor had used one of his own victims as a decoy. How clever Orochimaru had been, casting a jutsu on that poor chunin, Kamina, to make him act suspiciously, and then to send Minato to hunt him down like a rat.
Looking back, Minato wondered how he could ever have mistaken Orochimaru's deception as incompetence, and how he had failed to see the truth because it had been easier to think the greatest sannin was a crappy detective rather than an evil genius. He hadn't been the only one to miss the truth, but his current predicament made it all the more galling. Was what happened to Kamina going to happen all over again, only this time with Minato mistaken as a conspirator?
Surely even Ren knew him well enough to know he couldn't really be a rogue? Even if this was a jutsu none of them had seen before, they would at least understand he was not in control of himself... right? Once they found out the pristine sannin was a mass murderer, maybe it wouldn't be that hard to believe the pristine yellow flash could be in on it too.
Minato realised he was beginning to panic, despite himself. It took a lot for him to lose his cool, though maybe being suspended inside his own mind with the uncanny feeling of treading air in empty space was enough to shake his level-headed nature. This kind of foul trick was alien to him. He wasn't sure how to cope when connection to the outside world had been cut.
If you lost the sense of your body, losing your sense of self couldn't be far behind.
And almost to prove the growing disconnect between the two, the next time Minato noticed where he was, he realised he had reached the Valley of the End. When had he arrived? How long had he been running without pause? His body was cold and fatigued, but the sensations were far away and muffled to Minato's awareness. He stood on the precipice above the gigantic carving of the Shodai Hokage, looking down at the churning waterfall. A spectacular sight even without the benefit of daylight to illuminate the full gorge. The moonlight cast impenetrably black shadows, giving the impression that the cavernous rips in the land went on forever. He'd only seen it once before as a genin with Jiraiya and his team. It looked quite different now that the eyes taking it in barely felt like his own anymore.
Upon the Shodai's head, Minato's body finally sank to sit on the bare, lichen-scarred rock. The scroll was loosened from its place on his back and set down beside him. He was settling down to wait, it seemed, head down but facing the treeline to the south. If anyone appeared, he would know about it.
For now he knew he was alone. The waterfall behind him was like white noise, almost drowning out the subtler sounds of night-time; an own keening for a partner in the forest, the crickets chirping in the grass, and the wind that whistled through the cracks and edges of the rocky valley. On an ordinary night, this would be peaceful.
At the very least, it gave Minato an opportunity to fully focus on himself. With his head tilted down he could see his hands curled loosely on his lap, familiar yet foreign. He normally didn't have to think about moving them, so how did he fight for control? Repeating commands in his head didn't work, and though he could grasp the faint sensations he still received that let him know his fingers were cold, trying to expand his sense was like fighting against a wall of concrete. Orochimaru had allowed very little give in his contractual jutsu.
All Minato could manage in the end was to make two fingers twitch straight for a brief moment. His reward was a sting of pain, and then the sight of blood blooming beneath the skin, steadily turning the fingers darker and darker until they were a florid purple by the time the sky started to lighten in prelude to sunrise.
Orochimaru hadn't been joking. Resisting the jutsu really would snap his blood vessels. A few bruises on his fingers was just a small taste of a technique that could make him bleed to death without breaking his skin.
By the time the sun began creeping over the eastern mountains, Minato was short on hope. He still couldn't move. If Orochimaru had been defeated by whoever had been breaking into the lab behind him, Minato would have been freed by now. It was really no surprise to him when a dawn shadow broke away from the trees to approach him. Stiffly, Minato's chin lifted at last and he looked up at Orochimaru.
"All is set, Minato-kun," he said, "Most of Konoha is now following a hundred false leads. We may proceed at leisure to our destination. Stand."
The cold had set in more deeply than Minato could feel. He was slow to rise and straighten, and the moment he was on his feet, Orochimaru snatched up his hand. "What is this?" he demanded, holding up Minato's bruised and swollen fingers. If someone could mingle amusement with dismay, he did so then. "Trying to push your luck? You must take better care of yourself, Minato-kun. That's my future body you've damaged with your carelessness. Fortunately, the young heal so fast."
To punctuate this, Orochimaru caressed his bony fingers over Minato's cheek.
For the first time in his life, Minato thought a ruptured aorta couldn't strike him down fast enough.
"Get your stinking hands off him, you snake-faced freak!"
A chill squeezed around Minato's heart. Of all the people to have come to his rescue...
Not her... please not her...
Orochimaru ceased the violation of Minato's cheek and dropped his hand. He looked off towards the trees at a figure that remained outside of Minato's narrow range of vision. Not much amusement was playing on his face anymore. In fact, the sannin suddenly appeared wary – an expression Minato was not used to seeing on him. "And just how did you manage to trace me, Uzumaki?" he demanded.
"You? Who gives a damn about you? I'm here for him!"
Kushina was always so brave and passionate, especially when she had no right to be. Right now her voice rang out clearly above the waterfall, never wavering once despite facing down the most dangerous man in Konoha.
Please go away... Minato begged her silently. Please just go...
Orochimaru tilted his head to flick an unreadable glance at Minato. "I'm afraid I already have plans for him. Run along and find yourself a new lover."
"I'm not leaving here without him!" Kushina shouted. Footfalls scraped against rock; it sounded like she was running towards them.
Orochimaru grabbed the front of Minato's armoured vest, moving so fast that Minato didn't realise what was happening until he became aware that his feet were no longer touching the ground. His eyes stared dead ahead, straight towards Kushina who had stopped in her tracks as if she didn't dare move. Her horror was understandable. Minato was being dangled over the edge of an abyss, held up only by Orochimaru's grip on his clothes.
The sannin was far stronger than his slender body suggested. "Minato's not leaving with you. He either comes with me or he dies. You don't want to force my hand now, do you?"
"What's wrong with his eyes? What have you done to him?"
"Nothing I can't undo. But if you take one step closer to me, child, I will be forced to let go. How pretty will he look when his brains are splattered across the rocks below?"
Kushina scoffed uncomfortably. "You're underestimating how thick Minato's skull is if you think a fall like that could make a dent in it."
Probably true, but it wasn't a theory Minato was eager to see tested out. The long drop beneath him to the rocky base of the waterfall was a little concerning, however right then he was more worried about what was going to happen to Kushina. Someone like Orochimaru could strike her dead in an instant...
So why was he bothering to threaten Minato's life to keep her away?
"Walk away now, girl," Orochimaru intoned steadily. "There's nothing more you can do for him."
Kushina's fists clenched tightly at her sides. Of course she wasn't going to give up that easily. "What do you want with him?" she demanded.
"Nothing that concerns you."
"Then leave him and take me instead."
"Oh, now that is tempting." Orochimaru stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Very tempting. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought of taking you before. One could learn a lot from someone like you... and I would have spent many merry years dissecting you and your secrets if you hadn't been under the infernal protection of the Hokage and that pathetic sensei of yours. Well, they're no longer a problem for me, it seems, but I no longer have any use for you. Yours is not a power I desire. Namikaze Minato, however, will accommodate my needs just perfectly."
Kushina's stare was stony; afraid, but drawing on that fear to sustain her courage. "I won't let you take him," she ground out, "I won't lose anyone else."
"Then you have only yourself to blame." Orochimaru deadpanned. He jerked Minato back onto the safety of solid ground and released him, before nodding his chin towards Kushina. "Kill her."
What?
"What?" Kushina stepped back as Minato's body was compelled to step forward.
"If you want him, you'll have to fight for him," said Orochimaru. "Are you willing to go all out against your own lover, little monster?"
Minato's hand was already sliding his kunai free, ready to exact his orders. The shock and denial paralysing his soul was mirrored back in Kushina's face, and though she should have been running, she maintained her ground. "Minato," she called to him cautiously, "You know me. Come on. Get a hold of yourself."
Run away, he pleaded with her. He wasn't worth this. There was no way he could hold himself back against her, and no way was Kushina strong enough to match him. If she had sense she would forget about him and leave.
But instead she was reaching for her own kunai. "I know you're still in there," she shouted. "I know you can fight it! You're strong!"
"He's strong," Orochimaru agreed. "But the strongest are always the most vulnerable to attacks that come from within. You can't reason with him, so don't try. Accept your fate."
"You'll be accepting my boot up your ass later, you freak of fucking nature," Kushina muttered beneath her breath, eyes trained intently on Minato only. She really was going to try and fight him.
She had to be suicidal.
Minato's steps paused, gaze flicking over her stance and picking out at least three weaknesses. He was going to kill her... and he was powerless to stop himself.
His body rocketed forward without warning, closing the distance between them in barely a fraction of a moment. Kushina's desperate face was all he could see as he feinted left, spun, and struck out at her from the right. His kunai connected against hers with a hair-raising shriek of metal on metal, and the force of the blow was enough to send Kushina recoiling. She staggered and recovered, enough to deflect his kick, but not the one that followed rapidly after it, knocking the kunai straight out of her hand.
Kushina inhaled sharply, either in pain or in fury. She ducked beneath his next blow and nimbly bound out of reach beneath his own outstretched arm. Was she giving up and running? Minato could have rejoiced, except his body was determined to give chase. As Orochimaru's laughter rang out behind them, he sped after her, following the flash of streaming red hair to catch up. It took only a moment to overtake and hit the ground, sliding his legs directly across her path. She tripped and fell forward onto her hands with a squeak, but rather than fall flat where he could pin her, she shifted her momentum into a somersault and rolled straight back to her feet to continue running with barely a break.
She was lighter on her feet than he appreciated. He would have smiled if he'd been free to; instead he was forced to rise to his feet once more and continue the chase.
At one point she dared glance behind her and her eyes widened to see how close he was. She swerved sharply towards the trees and mounted a trunk with her chakra-charged feet to propel her into the branches. He caught up the same moment she swung down, aiming her feet at his head. Rather than duck, he grabbed her ankles and pulled her to the ground.
She didn't stand a chance. And Minato could only watch as he pressed down on her shoulder with one hand and stabbed his kunai into her throat with the other.
Kushina exploded in gust of air and smoke.
Just a clone...?
A weight crashed down on him from above, shoving him hard into the ground. With the tiny prick of a blade against his neck, his body wisely went still.
"Snap out of it, Minato!" Kushina yelled into his ear. "I'm here to help you!"
She would never cut into his throat, not even to save her own life. He knew it, and his body did too. He bucked hard, throwing her off his back, and slashed wildly at her. He heard her cry out. Blood flecked the dirt and a deep line of red split her upper arm. Something nearly broke in Minato at the sight, knowing he was responsible, and yet he still pursued her like an automaton, one purpose in his programming and one purpose alone: to kill Kushina.
He dived for her again. This time when she slipped back out of reach she opened her palm and Minato was hit full in the face with a blast of her wind chakra. Dust and grit threatened to fill his eyes, and he flinched away, momentarily blinded. And through that maelstrom of air, Kushina came at him.
Her blow would have knocked him unconscious, and Minato would have welcomed it. But in that last split second, Minato saw her weakness. Grabbing her arm, he spun and delivered shape jabs with his elbow to her face and chest that must have winded her. She kicked him away, breaking his grip on her arm, and vanished once more into the dust.
Minato waited.
"You have to give me a break here, Minato," Kushina's voice called. Minato turned, searching for the direction. The dust was clearing but it still lay thick in the air. "We can take down Orochimaru if we work together!"
One glimpse of red through the make-shift smokescreen and Minato flew on the offensive once more. Kushina had taken her chance to extract a ninjato from a scroll, and she swung it desperately to fend off his kunai. Their blades screeched and clicked in the tranquil morning air, spitting faint sparks as Minato pushed and pushed and forced Kushina back. She twisted and blocked. He lunged and battered down every parry.
She had always moved like a dancer when she fought, as such was the remnants of her old Whirlpool training. It kept her always one inch beyond the reach of his blade, and her movements just frenetic and graceful to remain unpredictable. But all dances had their rhythms and patterns, and Minato was quickly learning hers. It wouldn't be long until she slipped. Kushina was a better ninja than average by far, and her foreign fundamentals would always give her a slight edge, yet not even she could keep up with him. Already he could see her tiring, continually breaking away to gain some distance and advantage, only to be pinned once more trading frantic clashes to keep his blade from sinking into her.
One strike was so close that she was only saved from decapitation by virtue of choosing that moment to fall backwards over a poorly placed rock. She rolled quickly to the side to avoid being skewered, and kicked out at his knee to force distance.
On her feet, she looked around, finally noticing how close he had driven her to the edge of the edge of the gorge. Several hundred yards of free-fall awaited her if the pace continued and Kushina turned to regard him warily. Her skin looked especially pale with the bright blood streaking down her arm.
The wound, however, did not look nearly as bad as it had a few minutes ago. It didn't even appear to be bleeding anymore.
"I think I've realise something about you," she said, limping faintly as she moved counter to his slow stalking movements. "You haven't once used Hiraishin, Minato. You haven't used any jutsu at all, even. You can't use your chakra like this, can you?"
He knew she was right. While Orochimaru controlled his blood, he didn't control his chakra. There was nothing Minato could do about that except be glad that he could not use ninjutsu against Kushina. She still had little chance against him, against his jutsu she would already have been killed.
Kushina glanced over her shoulder at the valley. "If you want me," she said, "you're welcome to come get me."
And with that she turned and took a running leap off the cliff.
Minato had no time to spare for shock. Without hesitation he plunged over the edge after her, plummeting through the air towards the water-filled basin below. Kushina was below him, tumbling through the air with her hair snatching around her like a living fire.
He could see what she planned. She wanted to use the fact that he could no longer walk on water to her advantage. He'd be forced to swim, but if she hit the water first she was going to be incredibly vulnerable when he-
Suddenly Kushina shot past him. Her descent stopped dead as she opened her palms and directed a wind jutsu straight down. Minato watched in faint disbelief as she changed her trajectory like a leaf bouncing in the wind to land on the vertical cliff face with only the tiniest of wobbles – seconds before his body smashed into the frigid lake.
The cold water invaded his nose and eyes. For several horrifying moments, his body didn't seem to know what to do. He hung there, immobile and unable to breathe... feeling the tightening of suffocation in his chest that he couldn't do anything about it.
Something seized him around the arm and jerked hard, tugging his whole body along with it through the water. The shining surface of the lake was getting closer, until air broke over his face and suddenly he could breathe again. His arm remained suspended above him, wrapped by a silver chain that he followed all the way to the cliff-face where Kushina appeared to be holding the other end.
Yet another trick she had kept from him.
"I don't suppose you're grateful!" she yelled at him. "I just saved your life!"
Minato grabbed the chain with his other hand and pulled with all his might. She'd let her guard down, and with a faint shriek she came unstuck from the rock wall and fell. The moment the chain went lax, Minato shrugged it free and started swimming hard for the shelf of dry land beneath Kushina. Though she hadn't fallen far, she landed hard, and now she lay as stunned as Minato had been in the water.
Get up, he prayed as he waded out of the lake, great ribbons of water running off his leaden limbs.
The ninjato Kushina had dropped in the fall lay nearby, and Minato stooped to pick it up. The chains coming from her body atomised on the ground, nothing but an illusion of chakra disappearing into the air like wisps of smoke. She lifted her upper half off the ground a little dizzily – had she hit her head? – looking for her weapon. When she saw him approaching with it in his hand, a flash of urgency crossed her face. She scrambled to her feet and fled to the cliff wall.
But Minato was faster. The moment her boot hit the rocks and she began to climb, he reached out and snatched a fistful of her hair. With a shout of pain, and fell onto her back before him. Their scuffle was anything but elegant. Kushina rolled up and slammed her feet against his chest, knocking him back but losing several clumps of hair in the process. Minato struck out as he stumbled, slicing the ninjato into the crease behind her knee.
Kushina's scream as her leg gave out was almost too much. Minato wished he could close his ears – close his eyes – anything. He would rather turn the blade on himself then cause her pain, but he was still advancing, forcing her up against the base of the escarpment. Blood ran freely down her leg to pool beneath her. It was useless. He'd cut her ham string and with an injury like that she might never walk again.
The horror and guilt at causing such a grievous injury to the one he loved should have swallowed him. At the same time he was holding a sword to her throat, about to kill her.
Minato honestly didn't think he was going to be able to live with himself.
"Think about what you're doing," Kushina whispered, her breath coming in shallow pants as she pressed herself back against the rock. Her eyes were wide. Confidence had fled, replaced with fear. "I know you can hear me, Minato. You have to fight this. You have to come home with me... I can't lose you. Not now. Not after Sensei..."
She went silent and squeezed her eyes shut as the blade kissed her throat, drawing beads of red along its edge.
If his blood was pumping according to Orochimaru's beat, he didn't care if his heart had to stop... he wouldn't do this. He couldn't. He would sooner die than take her life.
The muscles in his arms seized and convulsed. His hand trembled. It took all the strength and will he had, but that blade did not move deeper. He forced his tongue into obedience and demanded his lips move. Though it felt like he was attempting to communicate from the deepest level of anaesthesia, he managed to spit the word to life. "Run."
Kushina's eyes snapped open to fix on his. If she noticed something different in his, he certainly noticed a difference in hers. Gone were the swirling pools of green and blue that had always commanded his attention. The eyes he looked into were close to that of an animal... narrow... yellow.. fierce.
What...?
Her hand seized around his, over the hilt of the ninjato. "I'm not leaving you," she ground out, and her voice was lower and thicker than he'd ever known it to be. Her nails bit into his skin. Had they always been that long.
"Kill her. Quickly." Orochimaru was standing beside him. "Do it or you'll die."
But Minato's hand was being forced back. It wasn't his own will anymore, but Kushina's strength. Her grip was incredible. Orochimaru's jutsu dulled his sense of pain, but he could feel her fingers gauging into the back of his hand and see his skin turning white as she pushed back.
Why...?
Orochimaru was growing impatient. "Kill her and you do everyone a favour! An abomination like her should not even exist!"
Kushina's eyes screwed shut again and her lungs heaved. Was it her chakra that began to flicker over her skin like a visible aura? But Kushina's chakra was blue, not this frothing red that made his hand ache and burn like he'd dipped it in acid.
"She's nothing but an animal, cornered and fighting for her survival! Put her down, now!" Orochimaru screamed at him.
It took everything Minato had – more than had ever been demanded of him – to pull back the ninjato and plunge it once and for all into the rock beside Kushina's head. His whole body throbbed. He knew what was going to happen to him now... and his arm had already dropped to his side, ruined.
Orochimaru gave a caustic snort of contempt. "Then you're no use to me. You'll die with her," he said, reaching for the blood contract in his pouch.
This time when Kushina's eyes slid open, there was nothing in them. Her white, unseeing eyes wandered over him to Orochimaru, and for a few moments it was almost serene.
Then she exploded.
Waves of heat and noxious chakra blasted Minato, physically pushing him away. He had barely a moment to register the fiery creature at the heart of it when it reached out to grab his leg.
And if he ever had bands of white hot iron wrapped around his flesh, Minato imagined it would feel like this. The pain was so intense he almost blacked out. He knew that he was thrown – tossed aside as easily and indifferently as a twig on the wind. He knew he slammed into the cliff face and landed on his crushed leg. He knew that he was still alive but barely conscious, looking on as the strange alien monster tore through the valley, turning water to steam and rocks to dust as it flayed and belted out agonised, inhuman screams.
There was another creature – a snake. Orochimaru's summon. They were fighting. None of what he was seeing made much sense to Minato, and his awareness of it all dimmed intermittently as he faded in and out of consciousness. Where was Kushina? She'd been there only a moment ago. With these monsters tearing around, she might be hurt.
It seemed like only a moment later, he opened his eyes and found himself surrounded by moving bodies.
"He's awake!" someone cried out.
"Minato, can you hear me?" Jiraiya loomed above him, filling his vision with shaggy white hair.
Minato licked his dry lips. "Sensei." He hadn't seen him look this worried since the time he'd almost been assassinated after the chunin exam.
"You're going to be alright, Minato, the medics are here," Jiraiya reassured him. "We have you now."
He couldn't count the number of people around him. He couldn't even make them out. They felt like demons, pulling at his clothes and his body and speaking in low, unintelligible voices Minato wasn't meant to hear. But Minato couldn't have cared less about that. "Kushina... where's Kushina?"
"They're subduing her now. Biwako's here, so she'll be alright. We think she gave Orochimaru a hell of a run for his money."
"Where?"
Jiraiya looked off to the side and Minato followed his gaze, but all he saw was that monster, trapped against the cliffs on the other side of the basin, encircled by people and ropes that looked like yapping little dogs compared to that thing.
"Where is she?" he demanded.
Jiraiya looked at him as if unsure what to say. "Minato..."
"That's not Kushina!" He struggled to sit up, even though his right side didn't seem to be working. "I have to find her. She's hurt. I have to-"
"For god's sake, Minato, don't move!" Jiraiya forcefully pushed him back down, though it didn't require much effort. "I'm going on ahead. I'll bring that bastard back if it's the last thing I do, so you have to promise me to keep still for the medics."
"But Kushina..." he whispered.
Someone else leaned over him to peer a light into his eyes. He thought he might have heard the word 'concussion'. And maybe 'shock' too.
"You can save his leg, can't you?" he heard Jiraiya ask. The daylight was fading, making it difficult to see who was talking anymore.
"The leg is the least of his worries. The poison's spreading – if we don't get him back-"
"Whatever you have to do. Do it." Jiraiya touched Minato's shoulder gently. "I'll be back, kid."
And then he was gone.
"Namikaze-san, we're going to sedate you."
An echoing scream like a chorus of tortured violins reverberated around the valley. Minato turned his head and witnessed the final thrashing of the monster pinned against the cliffs. It was beginning to slump at last, overwhelmed by the ninja surrounding it. Its tails were beginning to drop and fade; all five of them.
The medic's needle slid so easily into his neck he didn't feel it until the horrible, too-familiar numbness spread through his body, taking away his pain and control once more. The last thing he saw before the darkness overtook his vision was the monster. The fox.
Kushina.
TBC