- Ramin Djawadi: "Wildfire", "Heir to Winterfell" (Game of Thrones)


29. Explode

They had allowed themselves a moment of time together, despite the importance of his mission. Packing his bag, where she was lending him a helping hand, had been made second priority; for now, they were lying in the king-size bed, doing nothing of the sort. The owner of the house would have been disappointed of the fact that they were both still wearing clothes even though it was the owner's own bed they were lying in; although there had been a pair of small, warm hands slipping underneath his shirt at one point to get a closer feel of his abs, which in all honesty had surprised him as much as it had made his long hidden manly instincts surface to a point in which he had begun to understand what his sensei had taught him that wasn't training-related.

But his instincts had told him not to take any further steps, so in the end, they were just resting on the bed, next to each other.

She had asked why he had suddenly become so careless about mission orders. Not that he had been given any specific order on when to leave, except that he had said himself that he was leaving at once.

He hadn't replied to that, only smiled, one arm underneath his own head and the other resting next to him, fingers playing softly with hers. She had blushed; it wasn't an embarrassed blush, it was a good one.

She had smiled back.


Headquarters was, to Minato's general frustration, far away from the factory. He ran without rest, keeping a high alert on any disturbances or ambushes coming his way. If the Earth were out to get him, he wasn't going to become reckless; he didn't allow himself to be distracted by the ill feeling his stomach held, or the pictures flashing in his mind, thoughts he didn't want to believe.

He had found a more or less straight path towards the new location, but hindrances came with the package. Not wanting to be delayed by unnecessary battles, he chose to take a detour around a group of ten shinobi resting in a clearing, even though he could have taken on all of them by himself. Several situations like this occurred, until Minato had moved more in S-shapes than lines.

He was prepared to close the distance and get to headquarters as quickly as he could, but he knew it was going to take at least an hour to get there. He believed in Kushina's skills and knew she was strong enough to get through this, but detecting the thing living inside of her was not a difficult task, and the hour between him and her could make all the difference in the world.

Although he tried to push it to the back of his mind, a nagging feeling of regret had hit him. He regretted not being more insistent on leaving her one of his kunais. And he regretted not being able to tell her what he had been so keen on telling her the last time they had been together. But it had been so perfect nevertheless, and it was as though the way he had smiled, looked at her, and the way she had returned both, had made a mutual understanding in what he felt, like there had been no need to say it out loud.

But he couldn't take it if he never got the chance to tell her at least once.

He shook his head, trying to focus on the important factors. It wasn't because of his relationship or his feelings towards her that made it necessary to disobey every order and rush out in the middle of an international conflict all by himself with the possibility of making things worse. It was, in general, to make sure Konoha still was the possessor of the Kyuubi and prevent it from falling in the wrong hands. The fact that Kushina could die in the process was plainly his own conflict, and had no importance otherwise compared to the rest of the situation.

He knew he could stop her if the red chakra would pour out, even though the rest of Konoha didn't. Maybe it was time to introduce the new compression seal to the Hokage; he just hoped he would get the chance to do so with the product still untested in a real situation.

He ran through the thick forests, avoiding the largest paths as much as possible and now and then making sure he wasn't being followed. As the minutes slowly passed by, his heart hammered harder and the anxious feeling of not knowing, but fearing, what lay ahead, grew.


The woman was mad. Furious, in fact. Kushina could tell she was making the woman lose her patience, being an impatient being herself, but had no intention of uttering a single word.

So far, she had said nada. So far, so good.

Kushina had no idea why the woman was asking all these questions about Minato. Where he was, what he was doing, who he was with, for how long he was out of the village; if Kushina hadn't been so stubborn to refuse to speak a single word, she would have advised the woman to seek out some of Konoha's most annoying group of girls. They had, after all, verbally documented every corner and every detail of Minato's life possible.

And to send their regards; maybe they'd be pleased to know she was currently out of their way.

Kushina shook her head. Even though she hated their guts, she knew the girls of her generation fairly well. And she knew none of them would betray a comrade, even if it meant her.

She blamed it on anger. It was one thing that the woman was so furious over something, but Kushina was mad herself for being ambushed in her own house (so to speak), knocked out by a strange man and dragged far away from her village; she hadn't even received an explanation yet.

She knew they were looking for Minato, and that they had been unsuccessful in arranging a meeting with him. But exactly what they needed him for was currently unclear to her, and she had realised soon enough that the reason why she was the one to be kidnapped was purely her bad luck. Anyone could have known where Minato was.

The woman had been kicking at her subordinates out of lack of things to let out her anger on, and was turning her glare at Kushina.

She glared back.

"You realise you need to speak if you want to keep your life, right?" the woman hissed.

Kushina tried to keep her composition, but the inside of her was starting to panic. She fumbled with the iron handcuffs locked carefully around her wrists, but people were standing behind her, and any attempt to unlock them wouldn't go unnoticed. And to top it all, they prevented her from channelling chakra to her hands.

Suddenly, the woman rushed forwards to where Kushina was sitting, pulled her head back by grabbing a painful hold of her hair and a kunai was flying towards her throat -

The kunai stopped, the tip about to break through her skin. The woman's hand shook out of fury as she glared at her, and Kushina's heart was hammering so hard she knew it was useless to pretend she wasn't starting to freak out.

"I'll ask one more time, and one time only," the woman said, her voice as clear and composed as she could, but her glare had already killed Kushina at least ten times. "Where is Namikaze Minato? What is he doing?"

Her hand flew from the hair and up to Kushina's throat, squeezing hard enough to make it harder to breathe. The discomfort made Kushina act automatically, trying to wrench herself out of the woman's piercing grip, but the kunai only dug deeper, the sharp tip threatening to burst through her pale skin.

And still, her mouth kept shut.

The woman's face grimaced so much Kushina was sure she was going to slash her throat open any moment; then, she let out a furious howl, stood up and threw the kunai away.

"If I can interrupt," a man said hesitatingly. "Mujin has usually given us permission to get rid of hostages if they prove useless, and I don't think we'll get anything out of this one."

"Then do it!" the woman hissed. Not a moment passed before Kushina could hear footsteps from every angle moving towards her, closing in; she tried to think of her possibilities, but all she could do was kick if she had to, as her chakra channels had been closed by different sets of iron cuffs and chains, surrounding her legs, arms and upper body. If she died now, the Kyuubi would break free, and even though it would most likely crush every single person inside the building, it would end up in the Earth's possession; something Konoha could do without. Konoha was weak enough to begin with.

"Just dump her outside," the woman said. "I don't care. I need nothing more than to get to that piece of trash and rip his head off -"

In Kushina's already panicking state of mind, this was too much.


Minato was getting closer, he knew it. The area was far more empty, and he could run on the quickest roads undetected.

He had heard the general shout loudly from the earphone in his pocket from time to time, trying to communicate with him, but he had only picked it up to hear if there was any important information to gather from the shouting. It had mostly been you have no idea what kind of trouble you are in and get your ass back to the village – nothing Minato hadn't expected, and nothing he had replied to.

The only thing the general had yelled through the pocketed earphone of relevance was that they had sent one hell of a back-up after him, so Minato had set up quick signs telling which way he had gone. He just hoped the location was the right one; Taki had said headquarters, but they could have moved her, changed their minds, chosen a different location … Headquarters would nevertheless be a safe place to start, so Minato ran without hesitation.

After almost an hour of running, Minato stopped and climbed to the top of a tall tree. From one of the topmost branches, he could see a large block of a building, made of concrete and taller than it was wide. A few windows had been cut out, and a few of them were lit, though it was too far away from him to see anyone inside them.

He landed back on solid ground, and continued on the path, concluding that it went straight to headquarters.

He had taken three steps when the feeling hit him.

It was horrible, pinching, the hairs in his neck rose; it felt like despair and anger, something like the anxious and furious feeling he had felt as soon as he had heard they had taken Kushina, just fifty times worse. He didn't need many seconds to realise that this was not his instincts or wild imagination telling him something bad was going to happen.

He could sense it in the air.

It was as though he floated through a sea of fury, and he could distantly, yet certainly, remember sensing something similar many years ago. He had seen Kushina's secret for the first time, in the shape of a red, boiling chakra surrounding the girl, whose face had turned piercingly angry, with fangs and red eyes.

This felt much worse.

He didn't stop for a second. He didn't even pick up the speaking device to report to the general. If anything, he picked up the pace, despite having already ran for one hour.

He had sprinted the last few hundred meters, but could barely remember them. He kept only a quarter of an eye up for any guards surrounding the building, but they would never have gotten to him anyway; as soon as the front door was visible for him, he threw a Hiraishin kunai at it, channeled chakra to his feet, transported himself to the flying weapon and kicked the door in with a large crash; at the same time, a howl rang through the building and escaped through every open window.

It was sudden, but it lasted long enough for Minato to locate it. Sprinting up the stairs he noticed that not just he had figured out that something was terribly wrong; he ran past his enemies, who only had in mind to escape, yet were stuck to the ground of horror; on the third floor, the horrible chakra he had felt was so clear he knew he was only moments away, so while he ran down the deserted hallway he grabbed a compression seal from his pocket, prepared ways to place it on Kushina and then simply grab her arm and transport them both out of the building, no matter how confused she would be.

It was not going to go as planned.

He stopped by the doors he knew led to the room he sought and wrenched them open – and he momentarily froze of shock.

Kushina wasn't surrounded by a red, boiling, hot chakra; Kushina wasn't there at all. There were several bodies on the floor, eyes open and blood pouring out of their mouths. In the midst of them stood a monster, a black and red mass with white-gleaming eyes and uneven structure, four long tails swaying behind it, mouth wide open -

A black ball was growing inside it, swirling in a mass of deadly chakra, until it reached a size as large as the monster's own head and shot to the floor; Minato blocked his face from crushed objects coming his way and could for only a second see a few people disappearing behind the grand explosion, smouldered by the impact. The walls and floor had gone, and the roof was collapsing, bit by bit.

The monster turned his head, looking directly at Minato. He had to do it now.

It lasted only seconds, but in Minato's mind, it all happened in slow-motion. While he grabbed a kunai from his pocket, the large demon placed one clawed foot in front of the other, moving towards him; he ran, threw the kunai, the demon stopped and raised a hand-like foot, ready to catch the kunai and melt it; only moments before the kunai would have become ash Minato appeared before the monster, and just as he slammed the compression seal on the monster's growling head he felt claws grabbing his arm in a grip as hot as fire –

Minato let out a painful groan and opened his eyes.

He had blacked out for a moment. He realised he had been thrown several feet, but was confused as to where he was; judging by the immense pain in his whole body and the things he was lying at, he thought he had been thrown into the ruins of the building. He was lying on his stomach, and tried to move; he could still feel every part of his body, and in some way move them, and tried to roll over.

Once on his back, he saw he wasn't lying in any ruins. A hole in the wall next to him showed him that he had been thrown back into the hallway, but the speed had been so quick that the meeting with the next wall hadn't stopped him. He had gone straight through it.

The horrible chakra was gone, as though someone had turned on the light in a very dark room. Minato tried to support himself to be able to stand up, but it was difficult; a few of his ribs were undoubtedly broken, and blood was pouring out behind his left knee where a large gash had been made. His left arm was burnt and numb, and blood was dripping out of the wide burn mark.

He felt weak and terribly injured, but with one big effort, he managed to push himself up, and stood against the cracked wall. Testing his leg, he figured he could manage to walk across the hallway and into the ruined room where the horror had appeared only moments earlier.

It took time to walk those few feet. And as he supported himself to the door and looked inside the remains of the room, he felt a sting to his heart.

If she had once been a monster, it was impossible to tell. She was unconscious, lying on the floor unhurt, pale, red hair flowing around her. Minato made his way towards her and fell to his knees next to her. His unburned hand reached out, touched her cheek and whispered her name.

She didn't react, but she breathed steadily. She wasn't used to let out so much of the Kyuubi's chakra; her mind and body had been completely knocked out. Arms shaking but mind determined, Minato lifted Kushina's arms and placed them around his neck, supporting her head against his shoulder. One arm around her back and one supporting her legs, he was ready to pick her up. Every part of his body was screaming against it, wanting to rest, but they couldn't stay there. Enemies that had fled the building would come back, and Minato was as much in a state to fight as the unconscious Kushina.

He had heard the tales about the brave, strong, flawless heroes, those who had set out to save a young girl and returned home, not a scratch on his face and the girl looking admiringly up at him in his arms, the audience applauding for his bravery and the success of the quest. It had been something similar to those stories the day he had set off to rescue Kushina when they were genin. This time, however, he was injured to the point were he could barely stand, the girl was unconscious (he probably would have been better off being carried by her, had she only been awake) and the people at home were most likely going to throw him in jail for disobeying orders in such a situation.

Teeth clenched and mind set, he rose from the floor, girl in his arms and blood dripping onto the floor.