Rating: M

Warnings: Language, Jiraiya-ness, politics, heavy feels, another kind-of-cliffhanger, etc.

Word Count: ~5800

Pairings: eventual Kakashi/Kurama, past Sasuke/Naruto

Disclaimer: I don't hold the copyrights, I didn't create them, and I make no profit from this.

Notes: I should probably be sorry. I'm really honestly not.


reverse

Chapter XXVIII: Metanoia

[metanoia / metə ' noiə /, a change of mind and a change of heart, resulting in a positive transformation in the way one lives their life. It connotes the beginning of healing. From Greek metanoein "change one's mind".]

Jiraiya hums thoughtfully, his new manuscript and his next report to Sarutobi both balanced on his lap. There's a risk doing it this way—more than once the Sandaime has gotten a sneak peek at the next Icha Icha book while Jiraiya's editor is left scratching his head over the coded assessment of Akatsuki's most recent movements—but Jiraiya is an artist and can't deny the inspiration when it strikes. And that one nubile vixen in the bathhouse, with the black hair and the massive—

He giggles to himself, sniffling to ward off any imminent nosebleeds, and jots down a few more lines of his next masterpiece.

Technically, Kiri doesn't have much to do with Konoha, Orochimaru, or Akatsuki, but Jiraiya has been catching weird rumors from this village for years, and when Orochimaru was sighted a few miles from the edge of the village, he figured it was finally time to check it out. One henge as an absentminded farmer later, he's beginning to see that Kiri is just one massive mess, worse than Suna or Kumo have ever managed to be. The civilians are on edge, and the shinobi are worse—one wrong move is enough to get weapons drawn on both sides.

And there are sides, that much Jiraiya can say without hesitation. They're even obvious. No one is trying very hard to hide their discontent, and they're sticking to their own groups. It puts Jiraiya in definite mind of a powder keg with a bare inch left on the fuse; one spark, one breath of wind, and the entire thing is going to go up like fireworks.

Or like a bomb. That's a distinct possibility, too.

Jiraiya has been here for three weeks now, entirely out of contact with Konoha because he can't risk revealing his chakra and getting noticed. Foreign shinobi are never exactly welcomed, not in any of the villages, but here in Kiri it's particularly bad. They're avoided, whispered about, eyed with all the wariness of possible serial killers. Twice now Jiraiya has seen it, and it makes him glad he didn't try to enter the village as himself. He probably wouldn't have made it very far, being who he is.

Tapping his pen against the page on his knee, Jiraiya sighs softly and tugs at a strand of white hair that's falling loose. He doesn't quite know where to go from here; he hasn't seen any evidence of Orochimaru's presence, or any of Akatsuki's supposed other members—not that he'd be able to pick them out of a lineup even if they were here, given that he only has a vague idea of who they are—and given the current tensions, he doesn't want to get caught as a Konoha nin in the middle of what might as well be enemy territory. Still, the risk that Orochimaru is up to something in the village is a little too great for Jiraiya to accept; the Snake is dangerous, and Jiraiya knows that better than anyone.

Damned if he does, damned if he doesn't, Jiraiya thinks a little wryly, and rolls his report up to stow it in his weapons pouch. If that's the case, he might as well just—

That's about when the screaming starts.

Jiraiya's head snaps up, and the Icha Icha manuscript gets stuffed away as well, even as he jerks to his feet. That particular terrified cadence means civilian, and while civilians screaming in the middle of the Bloody Mist is hardly a new thing, the sheer number of screaming villagers means this isn't just two shinobi deciding to brawl it out in the streets. Jiraiya steps back, closer to the twisted, gnarled trunk of the willow he's been using as a hiding place, and it's hard for a man with his size and coloring to fade into the shadows, far harder than it ever was for his teammates when he had teammates, but years of experience make it simpler. He thinks small, unobtrusive thoughts as he slips out, keeping close to the treeline, and checks the street.

There's chaos. The villagers are fleeing, running in the panicked way that means they're leaving monsters behind them, and Jiraiya knows that's a bad sign. Civilians in shinobi villages can take most things in stride, and this kind of reaction means something massive and distinctly deadly is happening.

Moving in the opposite direction of the civilians, going at a dead run, is a kunoichi Jiraiya has seen several times in the past few days, though sadly never in the bathhouse. She leaps knots of villagers, a hand on one of the twin swords at her waist, and shouts, "Mangetsu!"

"Here!" a man calls back, darting out of the shadows between two round-capped buildings and joining her in the rapidly-emptying street.

The kunoichi lands next to him, looking somewhere between pissed and the flavor of playful that a cat would before a wounded mouse, and says, "We need to move. Yagura's mobilizing forces and trying to root us out."

"What, like, move?" Mangetsu demands. "We can't just go blindly, Ameyuri. What happened to dawn? Zabuza and Mei—"

Ameyuri shakes her head, mouth tightening, and draws her swords. That's enough to spark the recognition in Jiraiya's brain—Ringo Ameyuri, the first kunoichi to make it into the Seven Swordsmen. And that means her companion is the newest Swordsman, Hōzuki Mangetsu, supposedly able to wield all of Kiri's famous blades. A dangerous pair, without a doubt, and given their topic of discussion…

"One of the jounin spotted the Yondaime headed towards the cliffs." Her expression is grim. "We have to assume they've been taken or engaged already."

Mangetsu's expression flickers between worry, incredulity, and uncertainty. "With Kurama there? Weren't they going to introduce him to Utakata?"

Jiraiya frowns. That's a new name, even though he's made himself familiar with the vast majority of Kiri's high-ranking shinobi in the past few weeks. He recognizes Utakata's name, of course—he'd be a failure as a spy if he missed Kiri's second jinchuuriki—but the first name isn't one he knows. And, given the tone Mangetsu just used, that is a failing. The implied how could anyone beat them if Kurama is there makes Jiraiya a little queasy; if he missed a fighter that powerful, what else could he have missed?

Ameyuri just tips one shoulder in a careless shrug. "We don't have time for this," she says. "Yagura is distracted. This is our best chance of seizing the Administration Center and eliminating his supporters while they're without backup. Round up your chuunin and anyone who might be swayed to our side. I'll find the jounin. Push for the village center, all right?"

"This is going to end badly," is Mangetsu's assessment, but he turns and hurries back into the maze of streets, and Ameyuri heads the opposite direction. A shinobi just rounding the corner sees her and shouts, but half a heartbeat later she's on him in a spinning blur of lightning-edged swords, and when she darts away there's a corpse left lying in the dirt.

Jiraiya takes a slow breath, then lets it out. He doesn't have all the pieces yet, but—this is definitely a revolution happening right now. Whether it's going to be a successful one or not remains to be seen, but given that Jiraiya is a well-known foreign nin with direct ties to Konoha's Sandaime and a reputation as one of the strongest shinobi alive, he can't afford to keep too close an eye on things. Getting spotted would give Kiri an iron-clad reason to go to war with Konoha, regardless of which side wins, and Jiraiya isn't about to take that chance. He takes a breath, shifts even further back into the shadowy edges of the fog, and decides to wait until there's a definite outcome to report.

This is probably going to be the most exciting news that's passed Sarutobi's desk in a long time. Jiraiya just hopes he doesn't give his old teacher a heart attack or something.


Yagura's attack shifts, changes, becomes a vast mouth with teeth and hunger, and Kurama moves. He gathers himself and leaps, harder and faster than he's moved since he left his own time behind, and comes down behind the jinchuuriki as Yagura's attack hits only empty air. Half a second to call up his chakra and then Kurama slashes down. Force ripples around the blow, heavy like gravity, and even with one tail manifested Yagura can't turn fast enough to meet it. He goes flying, slamming into the rocks that line the seaward side of the road, and Kurama growls in victory and follows.

In the same moment, there's a sudden surge of heat, and the shinobi holding Mei scream. She dives down, rolls, and comes back to her feet, already pulling more lava into the air around her. In contrast, Zabuza is gone, faded back into the mist even as his captors fall with their throats slit, and Mei laughs. Her lava flows out like a deadly wave, aiming for more of Yagura's shinobi, and a massive sword flashes down on the far side of the group, sending more of them scattering with fearful cries.

Satisfied that they're not about to die, Kurama turns his full attention back to his own fight, spinning sideways around another lash of water and then going high, more force gathering around his fingertips. Claws aren't useful here, and getting close enough to use them will do more harm than good, but he can't risk a bijūdama, even small. At full strength Isobu could stop it, or at least avoid it, but Kurama doesn't know that he is at full strength. What if Obito has bound him somehow, or is leeching from him? Naruto liked Yagura, for the brief moment they met in the bijuu's shared mental world, and regretted not being able to save him. For that reason alone Kurama isn't about to kill him.

Still, that leaves Kurama a little light on techniques. He slashes down again, but Yagura dodges, a sweep of his hook-ended staff calling up another whirl of seawater that he flings directly at Kurama's head. Kurama ducks under it, steps around the jab of the staff, and calls up a scything arc of razor-edged wind. It screams down like a storm, but Yagura turns even as his chakra shroud ripples and condenses, darkening to a red so deep it's almost black. The Fuuton jutsu impacts, but doesn't do more than glance off the sudden emergence of Yagura's Version Two form, and Kurama curses.

"How's it feel to be a damned puppet, Yagura?" he taunts, sidestepping another lance of water. A burst of fire dissipates the next before it can hit him, and he leaps back, luring the Mizukage further away from Mei and Zabuza. He doesn't want to find out the hard way that Yagura is willing to take hostages. They're not his friends, not hardly, but—they're allies, and his Naruto would have given anything to protect them for that reason alone. Kurama might not be Naruto, not in any way that matters, but he can at least respect his jinchuuriki's convictions. Especially when it will make his own fight easier.

"I am no one's puppet," Yagura answers icily, but he's following, Isobu's three tails sweeping out to crumble rock. In a blur of speed he darts around Kurama, aiming a blow at his back, but Kurama rolls underneath the tail and keeps retreating, aiming for a small area of open ground further down the path. He risks a brief glance back, checking on his allies, and—

Utakata is where Kurama left him, but he's sitting cross-legged on the rocks again, eyes closed, hands on his knees. Saiken's chakra ripples and curls around him like waves, and Kurama frowns, because that's stupid. Why is the kid, already a jounin and supposedly a trained shinobi, leaving himself vulnerable like that? Especially with a good dozen of Yagura's shinobi still trying to subdue Zabuza and Mei. It's just—

Not something he can contemplate right now, Kurama realizes, as one of Yagura's tails nearly takes his head off. He leaps over the second one, ducks the third, and spins back to his feet in a cocoon of fire that slides off Isobu's chakra like water off oiled canvas.

"Not a puppet?" Kurama asks, and has to laugh, rough and derisive. "Says the puppet who can't even see his own strings. You're killing people, ruling over a sea of blood, and you don't even know why. You're being used, Yagura. Akatsuki has one hand on your neck but you don't even see it. Are you stupid, or just that arrogant, little boy?"

"I am not a child!" Yagura snarls, and this time the whip-like lash of water catches Kurama in the side, flinging him across the ground. He hits the rocks hard, feeling ribs crack, but doesn't have time to assess. Yagura is already on him again, corrosive chakra boiling with fury, and Kurama dodges in time to escape all but a single long cut down his shoulder. He rolls back to his feet, ducks a second blow, and sends a wave of force back. It hits, but not hard enough, and Kurama curses as he retreats again.

"You sure look like one to me. I feel like I should go looking for your babysitter," he taunts, and leaps high, twisting over the tail that slams into the ground where he was standing and coming down on Yagura's left. Another shockwave makes Yagura spin, only to catch a face-full of fire with another razor-edged wind behind it, and the jinchuuriki roars. He shakes it off, like a bull enraged by a stinging fly, and that's really not a metaphor to increase Kurama's confidence. He ducks in, trying for another punch even after the way his last attempt ended, and only manages a glancing scrape of knuckles across blistering chakra as Yagura whips his head to the side.

But something flickers in Yagura's eyes as the barb strikes home, and the fury that covers him like a haze flickers, increases. Just for a moment there's clarity on his face, even in the midst of his anger, and with a hiss he lashes out with all three tails and his staff at once.

"I am NOT a CHILD!"

Okay, that's a definite button, Kurama thinks, and drops down, slamming a hand into the earth. It surges up, but Kurama knows a simple Doton jutsu won't even slow Yagura down, and dodges while the jinchuuriki's sight is obscured. He slides behind a stand of boulders, needing the moment to figure out just how the hell he's going to survive enough taunts to get through to the brat, and—

Yagura stumbles. His steps falter, the chakra shroud flickers, and for an instant all Kurama can feel is Saiken's bubbly, acid-sharp power rising like waves around them.

Oh. Oh. Utakata is a damned genius. He must have gotten Saiken to pull him into the bijuu's shared mental world, where they can attack the chains of the genjutsu holding Isobu directly. Given enough time, they might be able to bring the turtle back to himself.

Of course, that means Kurama has to distract Yagura in this world, so that there's no chance of him following and confronting the teenager. Kurama isn't certain that Yagura can even access that plane, but better not to risk it. Utakata's only a kid, and although Kurama suspects that Saiken will do whatever he can to keep his jinchuuriki safe, they can't afford to take that chance.

With that in mind, Kurama slides out from behind the rocks while Yagura's back is turned, then summons up another wave of force and lets it crash over their battleground. Without a chakra shroud to catch it, it knocks Yagura right off his feet, sending his tumbling. He catches himself before he can go over the edge of the cliff, but immediately rises, pulling a massive surge of water up from the ocean as he does. He spins on Kurama, teeth bared and eyes almost wild, and the water crashes down like a drowning wave.

There's no avoiding this one, no getting away, no time to retaliate; all Kurama can do is brace himself before the miniature tsunami drops down on his skull. There's a burst of pain, an explosion of darkness behind his eyes, and the reflexive breath Kurama takes is water without any air at all.

The darkness spreads, swallowing him whole, and for an endless moment it's all Kurama knows.


"Hey," a gentle voice says, as familiar as Kurama's own heartbeat. "Hey, bastard fox, that's enough playing dead. Open your eyes. Beauty sleep's not going to help that much ugliness, believe it!"

Kurama's breath stutters in his throat, even as his hand flies up, catching the fingers that glance over his cheek. They're tangible, callused and warm and so impossibly familiar, and he opens his eyes. Gold greets him, gold and blue and sun-tanned brown, with three pale whisker-marks like faded scars and a smile as bright as the sun.

"Naruto," he chokes, and then can't get so much as another sound out.

Naruto—his Naruto, well into his thirties and worn around the edges, but still so bright, still so brave and steady—smiles at him, eyes warm, and twists his hand in Kurama's grasp to close his fingers around Kurama's hand. "Hey, Kurama," he says fondly, as though they're meeting after a few days apart, as if Naruto isn't dead and Kurama isn't stranded in a time period thirty years removed from his own.

Kurama sits up, unable to take his eyes off his jinchuuriki, and drags in a breath that shakes. "You're dead," he manages. "I saw—Kaguya killed you and then—"

Faint sadness slides in behind Naruto's smile, edging it with regret, and he sits back on his heels. "Yeah," he says quietly. "I figured it would end like that. I'm sorry for making you sad, Kurama. That was never what I wanted."

A sound gets caught in Kurama's throat, halfway between a laugh and a sob, and he doesn't resist the impulse to throw himself forward, wrapping his arms around his jinchuuriki the way he's only ever done once before. "You idiot, Naruto! That doesn't matter, you died!"

"And you made it back in time," Naruto counters, laughing a little as he rocks back to land hard on his ass, Kurama halfway sprawled in his lap. Without hesitation, he wraps Kurama up in a tight hug, holding him close, and says, "If you're using enough chakra to strain the seal, though, something's happening. Are you okay?"

Entirely reluctant to so much as lift his head from Naruto's shoulder, Kurama grunts unhappily. "Fucking Obito." Then he pauses, eyes narrowing, and growls, "You sealed my chakra?"

That makes Naruto laugh again, and he ruffles Kurama's hair. "Uh, kind of?" he admits sheepishly, and when Kurama snarls at him adds, "Just a little! It didn't keep you from using it, it just meant that if you wanted to use all of it you had to reach for it, and you'd come here." He smiles, expression bright and eyes happy. "I wanted to be with you, Kurama, even just as a chakra impression. I wanted to see you become the hero I know you are."

Kurama can't help but laugh, finally forcing himself to pull back a little so that he's kneeling in front of Naruto. "You're the only one," he says, and it comes out far closer to fond than he intends. "Sage, Naruto, I missed you. I've missed you so much."

Another sad smile and Naruto reaches out, curling his fingers around the back of Kurama's skull and pulling him in to rest their foreheads together. "Sorry, Kurama," he says again. "I didn't mean to leave you all alone."

Taking a shaky breath, Kurama closes his eyes briefly, then opens them again, unwilling to miss even a second of this encounter. "I'll survive," he says roughly. "The other you—the younger you, he's with me. He likes me."

"Who wouldn't?" Naruto laughs, and his fingers tighten just a little as his expression turns serious. "If you use your full power, everyone nearby will feel it," he warns. "They'll know you're something more than a regular shinobi."

Since they already do, that's hardly a loss. Kurama gives Naruto a crooked smile and says mockingly, "Worried about subtlety? Where's Naruto, and who the hell are you?"

Naruto just laughs, grin stretching bright and happy across his face. "Okay, okay, bastard fox, no need to get snippy. I was just warning you." Blue eyes fall closed for a moment, then open again, and he pulls Kurama forward into another hug. "Be careful, you big, mean jerk. I can't watch your back like I used to, so you'd better watch it twice as hard, okay?"

"That doesn't even make sense," Kurama complains, even though his eyes feel hot and his throat is tight again as he curls his arms around Naruto's waist. "I—am I ever going to see you again?"

"Who knows?" Naruto asks cheerfully, and the white world around them brightens like a solar flare before Kurama can even open his mouth to curse at him for it. There's a sharp crack somewhere distant, the echo of a seal breaking, and chakra rushes in like a warm, buoyant wave, sweeping him up and carrying him away from that familiar presence.

Bye, Kurama. I love you, and I'm so proud of you, something whispers into his ear, and Kurama smiles even through the wash of grief, finally letting go.

"Bye, Naruto," he breathes, and opens his eyes.


"Well, fuck," Rōshi says, halfway up the cliff that will let them sneak into Kiri unnoticed—Han's idea, of course. He stares upward, watching as a good portion of the sea is pulled right into the air as part of what is clearly a devastatingly large water jutsu. There's enough chakra on the path to make it seem like a small war is going on, and three of those chakra signatures are definitely bijuu, or at least jinchuuriki.

"Keep climbing," Han tells him firmly, stripped of his armor to make the trek easier and very unhappy about it. "We can deal with it when we're on solid ground."

Well, at least they found Kurama, Rōshi thinks with as much optimism as he can muster, channeling a little more chakra into his hands and feet and redoubling his pace. He only hopes the crew of the boat they commandeered was able to get out of range before shinobi started sucking up the seawater. There's no time to even glance back to check, and Rōshi doesn't bother trying, throwing himself up the steeply angled rock.

He's already calling up Son's chakra as he hits the lip the cliff, and he hurtles over with lava curling around him, slamming feet-first into a shinobi in Kiri's uniform. The man goes down, and the very pretty auburn-haired woman he was about to stab in the back whirls around in surprise. Rōshi doesn't pause, slinging himself around her and smashing a ball of molten rock into the face of another man. The smell of scorched flesh fills the air, and Han, just vaulting over the edge of the cliff, gives him a must-you-always-resort-to-overkill look.

With the ease of practice, Rōshi ignores it, ducking a kunai aimed at his eye and kicking the attacking kunoichi in the stomach. Another surge of lava—not his own, to his great surprise—finishes her off, and he turns a startled look on the auburn-haired woman, who smiles viciously at him before hurling herself at a shinobi trying to lunge at the jinchuuriki seated off to the side. The kid doesn't move, but the would-be attacker goes down screaming.

"Okay. Her I like," Rōshi tells Han cheerfully.

Han gives him a long-suffering look, then drops the sack holding his armor and starts pulling it on. "Kurama," he reminds Rōshi pointedly.

"Over there," the only shinobi fighting on the woman's side says, pausing next to them with the blade of his massive sword dripping blood. Rōshi had forgotten just what Kiri was like, as a culture. The lack of restraint is actually rather freeing, though, looking at it as a jinchuuriki who causes collateral damage more often than not. The man points down the rocky road, to where that water Rōshi watched rise is coming down, and he just manages to catch a glimpse of dark skin and red hair before the wave crashes over the two fighters.

"Kurama!" he shouts, heart in his throat, and leaps for the pair with Son rising inside of him. The ape roars with fury, deafening even if it isn't truly audible, and Rōshi isn't any more composed. The Suiton jutsu is pulling back, but that much pressure, that much weight, with killing chakra behind it and a jinchuuriki's power augmenting it—

Something sparks. There's a flicker of red so dark it's almost black, then another, and then like a wildfire catching an ancient, malicious power burns the water away, not even leaving steam behind. In the midst of that angry, hateful chakra, a figure stirs, and Kurama pushes to his feet. He staggers once, then steadies, shaking his head, and…laughs.

He laughs, and it's wild and dangerous enough to stop Rōshi in his tracks.

"Goddamn," Kurama says, twisting to stretch almost idly. He bares his teeth in a bloody grin, directed at the small figure standing tense and wary across from him, and chuckles lowly. "I'd forgotten what it feels like to really let loose. Care to help me remember, kid?"

The other jinchuuriki's expression flickers, then firms. "I'm not a child," he growls, and it has the sound of a familiar mantra.

Kurama hums thoughtfully, then shifts his weight forward onto the balls of his feet. "Great," he says with easy, deadly amusement. "Then I don't have to care when I beat your ass into the ground."

Chakra ripples around him, hot like the heart of a fire with the cutting edge of a hurricane hidden behind the heat. Kurama doesn't even seem to move, but in half the space of a blink he's behind the Mizukage, and a kick slams into the jinchuuriki's spine. Yagura stumbles forward even as his three tails whip backwards, aiming to crush, but Kurama catches them casually, easily, and laughs again.

"Cute," he mocks. "But you're forgetting something, Yagura." His grip tightens, and with a surge and a jerk he turns, throwing Yagura bodily away from him. The jinchuuriki crashes into the trees on the far side of the path, tearing through them as his chakra flares to lessen the impact.

Kurama steps after him, casual except for the predator lurking in his eyes. "I'm so far out of your league, kid, that you might as well just give up. You're never going to be able to touch me as you are now, tied to that madman. Get up. Fight for yourself. Fight like you actually mean it. Fight me, Yagura!"

Yagura scrambles to his feet, eyes wide and suddenly wary, and takes a step forward. He lashes out again, tails and chakra slamming forward, but Kurama dodges like they're hardly moving at all and punches Yagura squarely in the face. There's a sharp crack of breaking bone, and Yagura reels back with a cry, expression astonished above the wash of blood from a broken nose. And—Rōshi's honestly pretty surprised, too, given that he hadn't thought a simple punch could make it through a jinchuuriki's chakra shroud.

Then again, it's not a surprise that Kurama's something entirely new in the framework of their world. Rōshi realized that much a while ago.

Fire roars, a sudden snap-crack as the inferno strikes with all the force of a hammer, evaporating the weak shield of water Yagura desperately summons to block it. The younger man looks dazed, almost dizzy as he staggers back another few feet, trying to put space between himself and Kurama, and he shakes his head hard as if attempting to throw off a mental fog. "You—what?" he demands harshly, then visibly grits his teeth and opens his eyes. "You're a traitor," he growls. "Nothing you say means anything! I'll stop you here, and take those jinchuuriki you snatched to make Kiri strong!"

Rōshi winces. He's only been around Kurama for less than a full day, and even he can tell that threatening the kids Kurama collected is a bad, bad idea.

And, on cue, Kurama bares his teeth, an inhuman snarl tearing out of his throat. "They're mine!" he roars, and chakra whirls around him like a hurricane and is then pulled in, condensing in one hand. Positive and negative shift, balancing precisely, and spin into a whirl of black-streaked violet. The moment it steadies, Kurama hurls himself forward, too fast to see, and slams into Yagura with the force of a storm. The orb of chakra in his hand impacts the Sanbi's chakra shroud, and with a sound like splintering glass it gives way, shattering around Yagura. With a cry he staggers back, and Kurama spins, another kick hurtling Yagura back across the road. The Mizukage slams into a rock, skull snapping back with a crack, and then slumps in boneless unconsciousness.

Like a sudden tide, cool chakra curls around him, rising and then receding, and Rōshi feels Son shift in sudden recognition. Isobu, the ape says to him. I felt him before, but it was…muted. Different. I hadn't realized it until now.

"Rōshi." There's surprise in Kurama's voice as he steps out of the clearing his fight created, and Rōshi turns to find the other redhead looking at him with confusion. "What are you doing here?"

That, at least, is easy enough to answer. Rōshi jerks a thumb back towards his friend, who's helping contain the last of the attacking Kiri shinobi, and says, "Han and I met up on Turtle Island, meant to pass a message to Bee, but he'd been called back to Kumo. We decided to find you, see if you needed our help. Seems like you've got it handled, though."

Kurama smiles a little, oddly easy despite the painfully corrosive chakra that's just starting to fade. "I'm okay now," he agrees, and the words have a weight to them, meaning that Rōshi isn't privy to. "Someone just reminded me what I'm fighting for." He casts a glance at Yagura's crumpled form, expression not quite sympathetic even if there's definitely understanding there. "A puppet wouldn't understand that."

A genjutsu, Rōshi realizes with a flicker of unease, remembering Kurama's warning about a masked man with an eye that could control jinchuuriki. People with strong enough wills can sometimes break genjutsus, given the right motivation, but if they can't manage by themselves, pain does a pretty good job of it, too. And being overwhelmed by Kurama's chakra, uncontained and roiling with hot-sharp determination buried rage, was probably more than painful enough to do the trick, even if that blow to the head didn't.

Shaking his head in mixed disbelief and wonder—because really, mind-controlled bijuu and mysterious redheads rescuing them, what is his life now—Rōshi joins Kurama at the other jinchuuriki's side, even as the dark-haired teenager and the swordsman head down the road to join them. "Think that freed him?" he asks judiciously, running an assessing eye over the man. Over the Mizukage, and damn it, but that buts a whole new spin on things, doesn't it? Controlling a Kage is like conquering a village, after all, and in a place like Kiri, a sudden personality change might spark a few concerns, but not many people would be brave enough to actually voice them.

"I think so." It's the teenager who answers, hovering a few feet back but looking steady enough. "Saiken says the Sharingan's hold has been broken."

"The Sharingan?" the swordsman demands, hand tightening on the hilt of his weapon. "There was a fucking Uchiha controlling him? Red—"

"Rogue Uchiha," Kurama corrects, rocking back on his heels. He glances over at the teenager. "Utakata, you good?"

Utakata nods. "Saiken took the brunt of the fight while I restrained Isobu. I'll be fine with a little rest."

"Good." A shift from the body in front of them pulls Kurama's attention back, and he narrows his eyes, tension bleeding into his frame. Rōshi tenses too, Son close to the surface and ready to strike if he needs to, but he doesn't move yet.

"Red?" the swordsman asks, faintly wary, just as Yagura's eyes flicker open.