"Mind Transfer Jutsu!" Inojin barked.
He felt his mind fly forward as his body went slack, like a puppet with its strings cut. In a few moments, he was standing atop a massive ocean. It was churning angrily, like a storm was brewing. The waters coalesced into a massive, raging whirlpool as the clouds darkened overhead and crackled with lightning. Thunder clapped, causing Inojin to start.
He looked around, marvelling at Bolt's mind. It was much, much different than the time he had invaded it back in the Leaf. Had he not known it was his friend's mind, he would have been hard pressed to tell that it was even the same person. Maybe his mother could, or his late grandfather, but not him.
Not only was it vastly different—it was unorthodox. Most people's minds were orderly and organized. Like the files in a computer. If you knew the correct directory to look under, you could find most information easily. Ninja were trained to order their minds differently from an early age, but even his extensive training in his clan's techniques did not prepare him for Bolt's mind.
A clap of thunder boomed overhead, and the entire ocean seemed to quake as if struck. Inojin yelped as a hand erupted from the water and gripped him by the ankle. He leapt away, but the fist held him fast. Another hand erupted, seizing the other ankle.
Then, they pulled.
Inojin had only a fleeting moment to suck in a great breath of air as he was pulled beneath the waves. Inojin gasped, bubbles of precious life-giving oxygen slipping from his lips. He blinked rapidly, his eyes smarting from the salt water. He looked around, and saw ghostly spectres of water grasping at his legs. They had no legs themselves, but they had long, scaled tails.
Inojin struggled, but no matter how much he kicked, no matter how much he flailed, he couldn't get loose. More hands grabbed at his legs and neck as more creatures materialized in the water and dragged him deeper into the depths. The light began to fade from blue, to dark blue, to blue-black.
Inojin elbowed a creature and got one arm free. He punched another in the face, and freed the other one. His lungs ached from lack of oxygen, but there was no other choice. "Water Release: Water Prison Jutsu!" Inojin barked, bubbles leaking from his lips.
All at once, the water around him surged into a protective sphere. With great effort, Inojin pushed outward and created a bubble of air beneath the ocean's crushing depths.
That was when he saw it.
A lone figure, floating in the darkness of the abyss below him. Blonde hair floated upwards like seaweed in the surf, and piercing white eyes bored into his own. Bolt had his hands contorted in the Ram seal, and the water around him pulsed with chakra.
It was a genjutsu, Inojin realized. He clasped his hands together a sent a surge of chakra coursing through his system. "Release!" Inojin intoned.
He blinked, and found himself deep within an ocean.
It didn't work.
Inojin grimaced as his lungs began to burn. He knew it wasn't real—he was in an illusion. He wasn't really drowning. He didn't even know if he could drown. He was, technically, a mental construct. He had no physical body in this place. But it felt so real.
Inojin watched as Bolt released his hand seal and reached out with splayed fingers. He formed a fist, and clenched. All around him, Inojin felt the depths of the abyss coil around him like a snake. He could just make out the form of a massive fist as it clenched.
He hastily released his jutsu before he could find out when kind of mental damage being crushed alive would inflict upon him. As his mind was catapulted upwards and out of Bolt's, he dug as much as he could. Looking for any scrap of information that could help them incapacitate their friend.
Inojin saw brief flashes of faces and whispered names. Among them, a woman called Hikari and a man called Tetsu—whom Inojin assumed were his companions. An older, crimson-haired woman and a middle-aged, swarthy man. He didn't know who either were, and he couldn't use them against Bolt. Last were two people he knew well: Sarada and Himawari.
But he already knew Bolt held a soft spot for both girls. He grunted as he felt hard, warm stone beneath him. Inojin blinked rapidly and sat up, scrambling for his scroll, brush, and ink. "Don't let him go!" Inojin yelled. "His chakra reserves are massive! Larger than anyone's I've ever seen!"
He had learned that much, at least.
Beside him, Shikadai grunted a reply. His face was drawn and tight and red. Beads of sweat pooled on his forehead and ran down the valleys of his brows.
Mirai fell upon their two targets from above. She slammed her fist into the man's jaw, and staggered backwards as she felt her knuckles bruise. It was like punching solid stone. And, for all her efforts, the mountain of a man stared down at her with a cold fury—his head quirked to the side ever so slightly.
Then events caught up with him. "My lord!" he exclaimed.
Mirai glanced over to see the retreating form of the masked woman rushing into a cloud of noxious, purple colored gas where Bolt had been standing. It was rapidly expanding, and Himawari and Sarada were forced to retreat lest they be caught in the attack.
The youngest member of the Sarutobi clan slipped into a defensive stance as her two comrades followed her lead and leapt from their hiding place above. Chōchō fell with a blubbering, feminine battle cry. Mirai was rewarded with the crimson-haired man looking skyward. She watched as his eyes widened in surprise.
Then Chōchō proved she was a true Akimichi. Her fists grew until they were larger than the swordsman was tall. Which was quite a feat, all things considering.
What Mirai wasn't expecting was for the man to raise a single arm and catch her fist. His hand curled around one finger of her hand, and then he hurled her. Chōchō yelped as she was sent rolling down the rocky stone face of the valley for several yards.
Mirai couldn't even blink before a blue blur shot by her. She saw a flash of silver and gold lash out at their target. The crimson-haired man responded with equal agility, quickly drawing one of the swords at his waist and blocking Mitsuki's legendary Sword of Kusanagi.
The two men traded rapid slashes and stabs with each other, but neither landed a strike on the other. Mirai weaved hand seals. She inhaled a great breath of air. "Fire Release: Burning Ash!" Mirai declared in a breathy tone as she exhaled.
A cloud of flammable ash and dust spewed from her lips and obscured their small battlefield. Mitsuki leapt to safety, and Mirai clicked her teeth and ignited the technique.
A massive crescent of chakra roared forth, cutting her technique in half and dissipating it harmlessly. The samurai strode forward, a wicked curved katana brandished in his right hand. He glanced at the cloud of gas and was seemingly satisfied when he saw neither Bolt nor their masked companion.
The mountain of a man peered down at Mirai and Mitsuki. His eyes travelled down to Kusanagi, where a cold gleam entered his red eyes. "This one shall be honored to cross blades with you," he spoke, bowing ever so slightly. "I am Tetsu Uzumaki."
Mirai was surprised to hear the man's surname. The Uzumaki were practically an endangered species. To find one, other than Bolt, so far from the Leaf and the Whirlpool was quite a rarity. Tetsu seemed to glare at them; waiting, watching.
Beside her, Mitsuki cleared his throat. "I am Mitsuki," he said, brandishing Kusanagi and slipping into a defense stance.
Mirai realized what the samurai wanted. Their backwards way of life be damned, they were an honorable folk. "Mirai Sarutobi," she grunted, weaving hand seals. "Summoning Jutsu! Monkey King: Enma!"
From a wisp of smoke, an ape appeared. He was more man than beast, with thick white fur coating his arms and legs. He wore a tiger's skinned hide for a shirt, and a pair of antiquated ninja pants held fast with chainmail. His hair cascaded down to the small of his back, where an agile tail flicked back and forth.
"Hoh," Enma spoke, eying the man who towered above even him. "You Sarutobi always find yourselves in the most interesting situations."
"Not now," Mirai grunted, holding out her hand. Enma nodded once, and his form fell in on itself. He took the form of a massive staff. It was made of a dark green metal akin to jade, and capped with gold. "Transformation: Adamantine Staff!" Mirai intoned, twirling the weapon deftly.
Honor satisfied, Tetsu bowed again. He then drew his sword above his head, holding it aloft with both arms. The sword glowed with a soft blue light as the samurai's Sabre Technique reinforced the blade and gave it a preternatural edge.
Mitsuki sprinted forward, and Mirai followed him. The boy's arms shot forward, stretching past a normal man's bodily limits, and Tetsu batted away Kusanagi with a casual ease. Mirai swung her clan's ancestral weapon with as much strength as her small frame could muster.
The samurai brought up his katana to block, and Mirai smirked. The Adamantine Staff of the Monkey King was no ordinary weapon. Her staff struck his sword with the weight of a mountain. Mirai was rewarded with Tetsu buckling under the sheer force of her strike. He held his free hand to the flat of his katana and locked his knees. The rock beneath his boots began to crack as she pushed harder and harder.
Then Mitsuki was back on his feet. He thrusted forward from over twenty paces away as his arm shot forward with unnatural flexibility. Mirai knew that their victory hinged on a single cut from the legendary sword. Orochimaru's progeny had coated the blade in more poisons than Sasori of the Red Sand.
With more speed than a man of his size ought to possess, the samurai lashed out and struck Mirai in the face. She felt her nose crack and staggered backwards. A moment later, Kusanagi struck Tetsu's katana in a loud, echoing clang. The samurai reached forward, gripped Mitsuki by the wrist, and hurled him.
Mirai grit her teeth as Mitsuki yelped and was bodily thrown down a nearby crag into a smaller gulley of the valley. She was on her own.
There was a gust of wind at her back. Mirai turned, so as to keep one eye on her opponent and the other behind her back. She saw the noxious cloud of gas clear, and two figures step out.
Bolt, and the masked woman.
Shikadai leapt from where he had hidden and joined Sarada and Himawari.
Sarada stared into Bolt's lavender eyes. His Byakugan bored into her Sharingan. The veins in his temples writhed unnaturally as the all-seeing eyes of the Hyūga took the battlefield in. "I should have expected this," Bolt said.
"You should have," Sarada confirmed, every muscle in her body tensing. "We've come to bring you home on orders of the Hokage, Bolt. Your father has avoided telling the rest of the Union about your defection, but he can't keep them waiting for long. You are the worst kept secret in the Hidden Leaf."
"Let him tell them, then," Bolt said, casually waving off her concerns. "I'm not going back to the Hidden Leaf."
Sarada frowned. "You have to, Bolt," she said softly. "You're powerful—too powerful. Do you know how badly you hurt Yamato? Lady Tsunade and my mother had to heal him personally. He's still in physical therapy for the damage done to him."
Bolt frowned. Sarada took that as a good sign. "What do you mean?" Bolt asked, a slight hesitance in his voice.
Sarada swallowed nervously. The tension was getting to her. She wasn't good at negotiations. "Your Gentle Fist, when augmented with the Lightning Armor, can cause permanent damage to a person's chakra pathways. By its very nature, it's classified as a kinjutsu under article five of the Union's charter. If you're declared a rogue ninja, then article one of the charter takes effect: you will be classified as an S-class criminal," Sarada said.
"You do know what happens to S-class rogue ninja, don't you?" Sarada asked.
Bolt scoffed. "Of course," he said. "I did actually pay attention in my classes at the academy."
"Then you should come home!" Sarada declared. "If you keep—keep gallivanting around, you'll be a wanted man in every nation. The Union will give the order to use lethal force."
Bolt had the audacity to actually laugh. "Let them try," he said. "I'm strong enough now that it would take a Kage himself to actually kill me. And even then, I'd bet on me."
Sarada shook her head. She couldn't believe how arrogant her best friend had become. That he was willing to throw away their home, their friends, and his family. Throw away her. All for what? A life on the run with common criminals. And he thought the Union couldn't touch him? She wouldn't let him make that mistake. If not for himself, then for Himawari. She glanced at the younger girl and found her trembling; half between rage and sorrow.
"Please, brother," Himawari begged, a slight tremble in her voice. "Come home. I don't want you to be in danger. Mom misses you. I miss you. Even dad misses you! He's been better lately, too. He promised me he would take more time off and spend it with us! Just give him a chance, please."
Bolt shook his head. "I gave him every chance. I'm not going to give him another one," he said.
Himawari looked up, sadness gone and replaced by anger. "What about mother? You promised me you would never leave me behind again? Did you lie to me?"
This time, Sarada could see the pain in Bolt's eyes. "No," he said softly. "I didn't. And I won't. Whether I had stayed in the Leaf or not, we would have been separated. I would have been promoted to chūnin and given my own missions, or joined ANBU, or maybe even became a representative of the Union. I was too strong to be a common grunt of the Leaf. We would rarely see each other."
"But," Bolt said. "Even if we rarely saw each other, I would always be your brother. I'll still always be your brother. No matter if we lived ten feet away from each other's bedrooms or ten thousand miles and five countries away. I love you."
"Why?" Himawari demanded. "Why won't you come back? You don't have to make peace with dad. Just come home, move out! Stay in that dumb hotel and join the ANBU for all I care!"
Bolt sighed. Sarada could see the weariness in his face and shoulders. "If you had told me that a few weeks ago, maybe I would have," he said. His eyes appeared distant and unfocused, as if he was reliving memories. His expression was torn between happiness and horror. Sarada did not miss the slight twitch of the eyes as he glanced at his masked companion.
"But not now?" Himawari asked tersely.
"Not now," Bolt confirmed. "I've been lost for too long, sister. I've finally found a dream. Something I can work towards with all my heart. Something that's worth sacrificing my personal happiness for."
"What dream could possibly be more important than your family?" Himawari demanded angrily as she clenched her fists.
Bolt's lavender eyes stared into her very soul. Sarada shuddered. "Peace," he said, with absolute conviction and certainty.
"Peace? What peace? We are at peace! We've been at peace since the end of the war!" Himawari yelled.
"Maybe the Union has been at peace, but the other nations and their people have not. The war ended nearly two decades ago and there are still people from the Land of Frost who have no country and no homes. The Land of Rain has been at war with itself since our father killed Pain, and something has been murdering people in droves in the Land of Wind. Orochimaru's failed experiments and abominations run free in the Land of Sound to this day. The world is not at peace. It may never be. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't help," Bolt countered.
It was at that moment that Sarada realized something. Bolt had changed. He wasn't the bratty prodigy that she had known in her youth. He had matured. He shed his old flaws in the fires of battle and travel. It hadn't dawned on Sarada that the boy they had been pursuing had become a man. A man who didn't need them anymore.
It hurt.
Sarada knew that no amount of talking would ever convince Bolt to return to the Leaf. If she wanted to help him, she would have to take him by force. Sarada slipped into a defensive stance, which was almost automatically mirrored by Bolt and Hikari. Behind her, she felt Shikadai begin to plot their next moves. Himawari blinked away hot, angry unshed tears and took an aggressive Gentle Fist stance.
"It seems you understand," Bolt spoke. "Good. Let's see whose determination is stronger. Yours," he trailed off. "Or mine!"
In a flash he was upon them. He wasn't even using his Lightning Armor, but he was faster than most jōnin were. It was almost unnatural. Luckily, Himawari used her anger to fuel her speed and strength. The younger girl leapt forward and mat Bolt's thrust with a slap. Chakra arced from where their fists met, so strong that it was visible to the naked eye.
Sarada darted forward. It began to rain flashes of red light. Her Sharingan screamed at her to move; to dodge, not attack. She did so. Her eyes had never led her astray yet. As she leapt away, a barrage of needles hailed down upon where she and Shikadai had been standing not a moment earlier. The Nara was leaping backwards, deftly avoiding or deflecting any needles that came their way.
"Don't kill them!" Bolt barked, his voice echoing across the valley.
Sarada looked down. An ugly, tar colored liquid bubbled up from the rock where the needles struck. She had forgotten how terrifying it was to battle an opponent who used poisons. Sarada knew she wasn't a competent enough medic to cure any lethal toxins they were subjected to. It was only Bolt's mercy that spared them a painful death. The Hokage had been right. They were the only ones who had a chance of bringing Bolt in without heavy casualties.
"But don't be afraid to hurt them!" Bolt added.
"Yes, my lord!" Sarada heard a voice boom back, coming from the opposite side of the small valley where Mirai, Chōchō, and Mitsuki were fighting the crimson-haired samurai.
Bolt and Himawari were trading rapid Gentle Fist strikes. There simply wasn't an opportunity to join the fray. Hikari made Sarada's choice for her. The masked woman leapt at her with a growl on her lips. Both women threw their fists at each other. Sarada winced as her fist met Hikari's.
A massive whoosh of air boomed across the valley. The sheer power of their chakra enhanced strength send shockwaves through the stone, shattering the land behind them for ten feet in every direction.
A shadow lashed out from beneath Sarada's feet like an angry serpent. Hikari backed away, wisely, but Sarada wasn't going to let her retreat. She moved forward, and threw a vicious low kick forward. The masked woman evaded it, but the sheer gust of wind that followed sent her flying backwards.
Sarada weaved hand seals. "Fire Release: Fireball—"
Hikari was faster. In an instant, she wove two hand seals and spat a wall of water at Sarada. She winced as she spat a ball of fire at the oncoming water. The resulting explosion of steam scorched her flesh, coloring it an angry pink color.
The steam cleared, just in time for Sarada to grunt as Himawari was bodily thrown into her. She caught her friend on instinct as the force of the throw sent her tumbling backwards. Sarada glared up at Bolt as she jumped to her feet. "You're good, sister. But not that good. You trained with grandfather and mother. You've never been on a mission. You've never fought another man. You've never killed. You won't beat me," he said.
Himawari was on her feet as her normally pale skin turned an angry shade of red. "Did you learn this, brother?" Himawari demanded angrily. "Twin Lion Fists!"
Chakra erupted like flames around Himawari's clenched fists. It was roaring and angry, coalescing and taking the form of two great lion heads. Each had a maw of fangs, two haunting eyes, and a mane of wild chakra.
Sarada grinned as a fleeting look of surprise crossed Bolt's face. She remembered doing much the same thing the first time Himawari broke the secret technique of the Hyūga clan out during one of their spars.
Himawari sprinted forward, but stopped a full five feet from Bolt. She threw her punch all the same. The chakra construct roared forward, extending her range and covering the gap.
Bolt caught it. Lightning arced from his outstretched hand as he gripped the lion's skull and shattered it. Himawari's chakra sluggishly flowed back to her hands, where it coalesced into the lion again.
"Impressive," Bolt told his sister. He held out both hands in front of him, clenching and unclenching his fists. Sarada dodged a vicious haymaker from Hikari, and kicked her in the ribs for her trouble.
Then, she saw Bolt's chakra begin to coalesce over his own fists. No, that was impossible. Not without the Sharingan. The chakra formed two disfigured beasts who weren't even recognizable as the Hyūga clan's mighty lions. But they solidified and the flames of his chakra flickered like a candle in the wind. Sarada had no doubt the technique would work. Even if it looked incomplete.
Himawari was much more shaken than Sarada. Her clan's technique that she had labored over for hours and days and weeks had been copied by her brother with an almost casual ease. He saw it once, tried his hand at it, and succeeded. Like he always did.
Bolt dashed forward and threw a fist forward. Just like his sister, he skidded to a stop nearly five paces away. His chakra was thrust forward with all the strength and grace of a battering ram as it slammed into Himawari's chest. Sarada heard her gasp in pain as the wind was knocked from her chest. She was sent careening into a boulder where she cried out in pain.
Sarada growled. She wasn't going to go easy on them anymore. She sent a wide punch at Hikari. It missed, as she expected it to, but it gave her much needed room. Sarada kneeled, and peeled off the seals around her ankles and wrists. She dropped the thin sheets of parchment to the ground, where their weight shattered stone.
Sarada smirked and cracked her neck as she flexed her muscles.
Mitsuki grunted under the weight of Tetsu's downwards slash.
It should have been easy. One little cut, and the fight would be over. That was all it would take. Given the size of his enemy, mathematically speaking, it should have been easy to land a single cut with Kusanagi.
But it wasn't. The samurai towered over him, at least twice his height, and moved with a speed and agility that no creature his size should ever be able to. Chōchō threw a massive fist forward, as large as a boulder, and Mitsuki leapt away with haste. His chest heaved as he watched Tetsu slap away the legendary Adamantine Staff with a swing of his sword and rammed his shoulder into Chōchō's punch.
He was a juggernaut. Once he started fighting, you couldn't stop him. He just kept going, and going, and going. Mitsuki had overestimated his own skill in swordsmanship. He was beginning to see that the samurai was simply more skilled than him in kenjutsu and more experienced in actual combat. It was unlikely that he would manage to land a cut.
"Chōchō!" Mirai barked. "Go help Shikadai!"
Mitsuki looked over, where he had heard his three teammates fighting Bolt and Hikari. Sarada was engaging Bolt in a furious battle of speed while Himawari and Shikadai attempted to defeat the masked woman. He was surprised to see that the former hunter ninja was able to avoid a debilitating Gentle Fist strike. But, given that Bolt was her teammate, she probably had ample time to study the style.
What was truly impressive was her ability to dodge Shikadai's shadows and avoid Himawari's Gentle Fist at the same time.
"On it!" Chōchō yelled, shrinking her fist and running over to join the fray. Bolt landed a quick jab to Sarada's ribs, which she repaid with a devastating kick. Bolt dodged, but her foot collided with a boulder and reduced it to a fine dust.
That just left him and Mirai against the samurai. Great. Mitsuki weaved hand seals as he bit the sensitive flesh of his thumb. He slammed a bloody palm to the ground. "Summoning Jutsu!"
Mitsuki called forth a great, sinuous snake whose scales shone like gold. "Hold him," Mitsuki ordered as he brandished Kusanagi.
"Yes, master," the snake hissed and slithered forward with great speed. She was one of the most agile snakes whom had agreed to answer his call.
Mitsuki dashed forward as Tetsu turned away from Mirai and towards him and his summon. He lashed out with his katana, and a great crescent of chakra tore the stone asunder as it barreled towards them. Mitsuki felt his heart pound in his chest as his summon managed to slither out of the way just in time to avoid the attack. He himself dodged it with ease, and together the two of them worked to ensnare their enemy and deliver the single cut of Kusanagi that would end the fight.
The golden snake hissed and struck. Tetsu cut it in half at its midsection. Mitsuki didn't fret. The snake cast aside its severed tail and stemmed the flow of its bleeding. It continued forward, and wound up the crimson-haired man's leg and wound around his chest. She sunk her fangs into the massive biceps of his sword arm.
The arm went limp, and he dropped his katana. Mirai was already within striking distance as she swung her staff at him. Mitsuki was only a handful of paces away. He watched as Tetsu contorted his body and used his summon as a flesh shield. The staff instantly dispersed his snake and sent her back to her cavernous home. The blow softened, Tetsu rammed his shoulder into the staff and sent Mirai staggering back.
Then, Mitsuki was upon him. His arm remained limp and his sword discarded. He had him. Mitsuki brought down Kusanagi with a vicious slash. He watched as the man's remaining good arm fell to his waist and fish out a mangled sword. It had no blade, only a crossguard and a hilt, but he gripped it tightly all the same. "Iaidō: Flash," Tetsu intoned.
Mitsuki didn't even see the draw. One moment, the ruined sword was at his waist. The next, his left arm was raised over his head and the hilt pointed skyward. A crescent of chakra—much weaker than his earlier attacks—slammed into the blade of Kusanagi. Mitsuki held his sword with both hands tightly gripped around the hilt as he was bodily thrown backwards by the sheer force of the Flash.
The attack dissipated harmlessly on either side of him as he skidded to a halt. In the few meager seconds he had spent blocking the technique, the samurai had fetched his katana and had the hilt clutched between his teeth. Chakra leaked from the shards of the blade still lodged within the crossguard, forming a wicked shortsword out of the Sabre Technique. Even with no physical blade, the chakra construct would cut as surely as any steel.
Mitsuki sighed as Mirai appeared next to him, her massive staff hefted over her shoulder. Maybe she shouldn't have sent Chōchō off after all. They needed all the help they could get.
Bolt saw Chōchō sprinting across the valley towards him and Hikari. Their odds went from bad to worse as the number of opponents climbed from three to four. He was already overwhelmed by Sarada's freakish physical strength and newfound speed. Hikari was forced onto the defensive by the combined power of Shikadai's shadows and his sister's taijutsu.
Inojin was up on a craggy outcropping of rock and spewing forth inky beast after beast. They weren't dangerous on their own, but their sheer quantity made them an annoyance that Bolt simply couldn't afford.
It was time to take things seriously.
A shroud of flaming chakra consumed his body, which quickly sparked to life in an electrical storm. The world slowed to a crawl. He was back in his own little world, a world where he was king. He saw a plague of monstrous, inky rats swarm forward. Their teeth were gnarled and they bit with an audible clack of teeth.
Bolt slaughtered them. They erupted into great puddles of ink that pooled beneath their corpses like blood. Then, he turned his sights on their creator. Inojin's eyes widened as Bolt peered up at him. In a flash, he had weaved thirteen hand seals. Bolt spat a wave of water at him that slammed him against the stone and put the Yamanaka out of his hair.
He turned back to the battlefield, just in time to see Sarada deliver another freakishly powerful punch at his jaw. He leaned out of the way, allowing it to swing past him with an audible gust of wind. Hikari was nursing her dominant arm and doing her best to avoid the onslaught of Himawari, Shikadai, and Chōchō.
And she was failing. Bolt could tell she would lose if he didn't act. Maybe if she had been fighting to kill she could have won, but his heart wouldn't let him see his friends die for following orders. But, above all, he wouldn't lose here. And he couldn't let Hikari fall.
Bolt dashed forward, appearing as nothing more than an electric blue phantom as he streaked across the stone. It was an easy decision on whom he would strike first. Shikadai was the most dangerous person in the little band of ninja. His cunning mind was no doubt working overtime to develop a strategy that would see him in chains back in the Leaf.
"Shikadai!" Bolt heard Sarada cry out in warning. Her Sharingan was another problem. It had fully matured, and she had grown into its power. His speed, even with the Lightning Armor, could no longer overwhelm her so completely. Back in the Land of Waves, she had been unprepared in both body and mind. Now, she was a fully realized Uchiha with all the power and abilities that came with it.
Shikadai turned to face him, a look of weary determination in his beady black eyes. But not surprise, and not fear. Bolt was right. The Nara did have a plan. He was too dangerous to be left to his own devices. Shadows erupted from the stone and struck out at his own shadow. Bolt wouldn't make that mistake again. Before the all-seeing eyes of the Hyūga, he wouldn't be ensnared by them a second time.
Bolt felt, more than saw, something flicker around the edges of that miniscule blind spot in the back of his head. Tilting his skull slightly, it revealed to his vision Sarada throwing a single knife at him. It was a cross between a dagger and a pair of brass knuckles, and had a sealing tag flailing from its hilt. Bolt didn't have enough time to decipher its full meaning, but when he read the character for "shadow" on it he knew that it wasn't good.
He weaved to the side and raised his arms, allowing the knife to sail passed him. It sank into the stone. Bolt watched it for a few moments and found that it had done nothing. Assuming it was a Nara jutsu, it needed contact with his shadow. All he had to do was keep a watchful eye on where he stepped. Bolt turned and sprinted forward in pursuit of Shikadai again.
Only to run straight into Chōchō's inhumanly large fist. It was like running into the face of a mountain. He staggered backwards, shaken. The girl hadn't even punched him. He had just been so preoccupied with the knife that he hadn't bothered to take notice that she had laid her fist in his path.
Bolt growled, ready to met out a flurry of Gentle Fist strikes. Chōchō shrunk her arm and turned and ran. Shikadai had disappeared. That wasn't good. He needed to find him. Hikari was fine fighting against his sister, even with one arm. He needed to unblock her chakra points. Once she was at full strength, they could defeat his friends and be on their way.
Course of action decided, Bolt chased after Chōchō. The Akimichi girl was surprisingly quick for being so fat. She ran to a cliff and began to leap from rock to rock as she ascended upwards. Bolt sprinted forward, a blur of blue. He hesitated as Chōchō turned from an overweight teenage girl to an overweight teenage giant.
She was as tall as a building and loomed over him for tens of feet. The height of the cliff only added to her already impressive stature. Bolt weaved hand seals.
Only to find that he couldn't.
Eyes bulging, Bolt looked down. He was standing in Chōchō's shadow. Heart hammering in his chest, he cast his gaze around for the culprit. He found him a moment later. Shikadai strode from a shadow atop the cliff where Chōchō was standing.
That wasn't possible. He had looked there—twice. Once when he was scanning for Shikadai, and again when he was chasing Chōchō. Bolt hadn't seen him. The Byakugan hadn't seen him. How did he evade the all-seeing eyes of the Hyūga? The Hyūga had a few seals that prevented their eyes from seeing through things, but they were only used for privacy in housing.
Unless... the Nara clan had always been secretive about their shadow techniques. Could he hide himself in shadows? Would that even affect his sight?
Bolt grit his teeth. "Shadow possession complete," Shikadai intoned, holding his hands in the Rat seal.
Bolt began to struggle with all the strength his Lightning Armor could muster. He was rewarded as Shikadai fell to one knee and his face turned beet red. "Finish him!" Shikadai yelled. "I can't hold him for long!"
Even immobilized, Bolt could still see the attack coming from behind. Sarada stepped in for Himawari in her fight with Hikari. His sister sprinted towards him, Byakugan flaring and fingers extended in an attack that would surely rob him of his chakra control.
He was going to lose. Bolt redoubled his efforts as he rebelled violently against the shadowy tendrils holding him in their grasp. Shikadai gasped as beads of sweat pooled on his forehead.
Himawari came closer, and closer, and closer. He wasn't going to break free in time. Bolt didn't know if the defensive aspect of his armor would hold up against the Gentle Fist. If his sister closed his chakra points, the armor would have nothing to emit from. She could disarm him.
Hikari was only barely holding her own against Sarada. With his armor and eyes, he could follow her almost inhuman physical strength and agility. Not as fast as him—but fast enough. He needed to break free and unblock her chakra points. He needed to—
A massive something slammed into him. It nearly ripped the wind from his lungs, but years of training and instinct kept him breathing. Bolt was bodily thrown from the shadow of Chōchō. Freed of the Nara technique, Bolt turned and prepared to end Shikadai's role in the fight.
What he saw made his blood boil. Tetsu had fled from Mirai and Mitsuki. And he had earned a sword through the shoulder for his heroics. Kusanagi was lodged in his shoulder at an awkward angle, as if Tetsu had ran into it rather than having been stabbed.
Mitsuki appeared and snagged the legendary sword from its holding place. Tetsu collapsed to his knees, and then fell to the ground. Only his Byakugan calmed the anger that threatened to overflow and consume him. He was alive. And unharmed, mostly. His eyes told him that. But there was something foreign in his body that prevented him from moving. A fast acting paralytic that affected chakra as well as the body.
What was he supposed to do? What could he do?
Mitsuki knelt and made an obvious show of providing first aid. His hand glowed a soft green as he closed the wound and stemmed the bleeding. But Tetsu did not rise.
Bolt turned and thundered towards Hikari. He couldn't save Tetsu without her help. He was upon Sarada in an instant. She turned, a look of surprise overtaking her pretty features, and Bolt flashed through eighteen of the sixty-four strikes that would end a normal ninja's control over their chakra.
He could see the pain flash across her face, followed by something very odd. Something he never saw before. He didn't like seeing it. Not on her face.
It was fear.
Why would she be afraid of him? He would never hurt her. She was his friend—Bolt looked down at his hands as she leapt away. They were coated with lightning chakra. Her words floated through his addled mind. "Permanent damage to the chakra pathways," she had said.
Guilt coursed through him for only a moment before Bolt dashed it away. He ran over to Hikari's side. In a flurry, he unblocked all thirteen chakra points that his sister had managed to close. Hikari's chest heaved from exertion and he could tell by the way she held herself that she was in pain.
"Can you still fight?" Bolt asked in a whispered tone, keeping both eyes trained on the assembled force. Inojin was down. Sarada, Mirai, and Mitsuki were sporting scrapes and bruises but otherwise unharmed. Chōchō was sweating profusely—a sure sign of waning power in the Akimichi—but otherwise fine. Shikadai, of all of them, was the most exhausted. And the most dangerous.
Hikari flicked her hand and produced two needles from the seals he had placed on the palms of her hands. She stabbed both of them into her thigh and sighed with relief. Bolt watched as her skin turned an angry shade of red. "I can now," she said through grit teeth.
"Give up, Bolt," Sarada called. "You've lost."
That was not an option. Bolt catalogued what options he actually had. He needed to give Hikari time to heal Tetsu. Once the samurai was up, they could fight together. Even his friends would have trouble against their combined might.
Bolt shared a brief look with Hikari. Both of them nodded. They did not need to speak to understand each other. Four years of teamwork born of trusting each other to have the other's back did that to a friendship.
Bolt held both hands in front of him, palms up. Chakra began to coalesce in the palms of both hands.
Sarada watched as two perfect copies of Rasengan blossomed to life in the palms of Bolt's hands. Then, before she could say a word, they shrunk to the size of a pebble. Her eyes widened as her mind flashed back to his fight with the Hokage. "Dodge!" Sarada screamed.
Bolt hurled the two spheres at them. Only a few feet after they left his hand, their forms unravelled. To everyone else they appeared to have come undone. But, to her eyes, and Himawari's, the technique continued forward. It was a deadly technique. One that couldn't be guarded against without a dōjutsu. "What?" Chōchō questioned.
Sarada realized her mistake too late. She hadn't shared her knowledge of Bolt's fight with Naruto with the rest of the team. She cursed her mistake, even as one of the spheres slammed into the giant girl's chest. Chōchō screamed, and the jutsu increasing her size faded. She crashed into the wall of the valley and fell to the ground; limp and unconscious.
Despite one of her friends falling, Sarada sighed in relief. She had expected the horror of the power Bolt unleashed upon his own father. Instead, the technique was only just powerful enough to knock Chōchō into blissful unconsciousness—not death.
There was a white blur that caused her Sharingan to scream in protest. Sarada lashed out on instinct. She was batted away by Hikari, who continued forward and past her. Sarada turned, torn between fighting her and fighting Bolt.
She chose Bolt.
That was the wrong choice. From behind her, she heard the sickening sound of bone shattering. She turned, and saw Hikari had punched Mirai's staff. Every bone in the masked woman's arm had broken, but she sent Mirai crashing into a nearby boulder. Then, Hikari rammed her knee into the woman's gut. Mirai dropped her staff, and it changed into the form of Enma. The monkey king had only a moment to charge Hikari before his summoner fell unconscious and the bonds tethering him were cut. He disappeared in a wisp of smoke.
Then, Sarada had bigger problems. Bolt was trying his damned hardest to block more of her chakra points. She could already feel her chakra control slipping—a crippling wound in one who used their chakra control to augment their strength and speed as much as she did.
Himawari joined the fray. Sarada sighed in relief as she changed between fending off Bolt, and unblocking her chakra points. Together, the two of them managed to keep him busy. That's all they had to do. Once Shikadai had recovered, they could try to ensnare him again.
Bolt sent a high kick at her head. Unexpected. But not unavoidable. Sarada dodged. Bolt swung his leg around, pivoting on the ball of his foot. When he was facing them again, it was with a Rasengan clutched in the palm of his hand. Sarada leapt out of the way, watching as Himawari mirrored her actions. Bolt's attack missed them, but Sarada felt the wind whirl as he passed.
And he kept going. "Watch out!" Sarada barked, knees bent as she prepared to run after Bolt.
He skidded to a stop ahead of her, and hurled his Rasengan again. This time, there was no dōjutsu to save her friends. Shikadai was running, but he wasn't fast enough. He was tired. He had been forced to hold Bolt's immense strength—not just once, but twice. The Rasengan whirled forward, invisible, and slammed into the Nara. He gasped in pain and joined his teammate in unconsciousness.
Bolt turned to face her, and Sarada growled as she saw the pleased grin on his lips. Now, it was down to her, Himawari, and Mitsuki. Their friends had fallen, one by one.
Himawari screamed in fury, surprising Sarada for a moment. It was out of character. She cupped her hands, and her own Rasengan whirred to life. "You're not the only one who can use grandfather's jutsu, brother!" Himawari yelled as she sprinted forward.
Bolt dodged using his preternatural enhanced speed. Sarada couldn't help a strangled chuckle escape from her lips as Himawari copied her brother's feint. She kept going, sprinting over to where Mitsuki was fighting Hikari over the fallen body of Tetsu.
Sarada leapt at Bolt, and saw the exact moment he realized his mistake. "Hikari!" Bolt screamed in panic.
He was too late.
Himawari shoved the whirling sphere of chakra into the masked woman's back. She crushed her into a cliff and only released the technique once she was sure that the former hunter ninja wouldn't be getting back up.
Bolt was so distracted, Sarada actually landed a punch. Her eyes widened in surprise, not actually expecting for the hit to connect. If she had thought Hikari's defeat would throw his concentration off that much, she would have put more strength into it. He staggered backwards, eyes wide.
Then he was back in the game, and his eyes were hard and sharp and cold.
Mitsuki walked over to join the two of them, breathing heavily from exertion.
"Give up. Please, Bolt," Mitsuki asked with a calmness that belied his exhaustion.
By the way Bolt's fist crackled with lightning, his answer was a resounding "fuck you."
Mitsuki sighed. "I didn't want to have to do this," he spoke sadly. "But, as your friend, know that I do this for your benefit."
Sarada watched as an inky blackness leaked from her friend's eyes, spreading across his face like cracked glass. Chakra surrounded his body like a fire, forming into two incorporeal snakes. From his forehead, a great horn grew forth. She winced as it broke the skin and blood ran down the valley of his nose and eyes.
"Sage Transformation," Mitsuki intoned, clenching his fists. As he did so, the incorporeal chakra serpents reared their ugly heads.
Sarada grinned as her friend brought forth his most powerful technique in his arsenal of jutsu. That was when she realized something.
They were going to win.
Adrenaline coursed through her veins as Sarada saw the end of the battle in sight.
Bolt felt, for the first time in a long time, fear claw at his heart. Mitsuki was a Sage. His father was a Sage. Nagato had written that his teacher was a Sage. Victory was a dwindling goal far in the distance, and it got ever farther. What could he do to defeat a Sage whilst avoiding two other immensely powerful opponents?
Nothing.
Nothing that wouldn't kill them. Bolt would rather be defeated a thousand times before he would ever consent to killing his sister—let alone his best friends.
Then, three of the most important people in his life were attacking him. They moved as one, with a cohesion born of years of shared training and hardship. Mitsuki swung his fist at his jaw. Bolt moved out of the way.
But something was wrong. The chakra of the world was all wrong. His Byakugan could see it. Like a curtain blowing in the wind. It was moving. It was a disconcerting feeling. The world of monochrome blue fire that his dōjutsu saw was not as it should be.
Bolt felt the punch connect. It was heavy, with the strength of ten men behind it. It felt like Sarada had just hooked him with her most powerful punch. Then one of the spectral serpents slammed into his chest like a whip. Only his armor kept his ribs from breaking, he was sure. Bolt slapped away a barrage of Gentle Fist strikes from his sister, only to be kicked in the thigh by Sarada.
He winced as he was brought to his knees by the low kick. Then Mitsuki punched him, again, and he had no chance of dodging. His fist, augmented by natural energy, slammed into his jaw. Even through his armor, Bolt saw stars as darkness crept into his vision.
He couldn't lose. He wouldn't lose. There had to be something he could—something other than the Lightning Release: Rasengan. He could barely keep himself alive using the technique. He wasn't going to risk his friends lives using it. Something, something, some—
Bolt's eyes fell on his discarded travelling pack. Yes, something.
He bit his tongue, using the pain to focus. He sprinted away from his friends—no, his enemies—and scooped up the leather pack. He tore it open and shoved his hands into its compartments, desperately searching for the flash of metal he knew was in there somewhere. Bolt was keenly aware of the sounds of his friend's boots pounding on stone as they chased after him.
Bolt felt the cold of steel run up the tip of his finger. He clutched a length of fabric and tore it free. In his hand, he held his Hidden Whirlpool headband. His scratched Leaf headband was safely sealed away, but he kept his ancestral clan's one close in case he had need of it.
Like, for instance, right now.
He tore the length of black fabric from the scrap of metal. There, on the back was a single seal. Just like the note the Amekage wrote him said it would be. "When your life's in danger, channel your chakra into the seal," he could hear the head of the Uzumaki clan say.
Bolt gripped the cold metal in the palm of his hand and grit his teeth. He pumped as much chakra and sheer will into the small seal as he possibly could.
Mitsuki was upon him. His arm was drawn back, fist clenched, and one of his spectral serpents coiled around his arm. Bolt knew it was the finishing blow.
The emblem of the Hidden Whirlpool glowed. From it, a single spearhead erupted. It shot forward, dragging a wicked, spiked chain behind it. It was spectral; half corporeal, half incorporeal, and was a pretty shade of pale lavender—just like the Byakugan.
The chain pierced Mitsuki's chest, erupting from his back, and then wrapped around his body. In that moment, as his friend's body shifted back to his normal appearance, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Sarada and his sister were shocked into disbelief, and in their moment of weakness, Bolt dashed forward. He quickly flashed through all sixty-four strikes and blocked all major chakra points in Mitsuki's pathways. He was down for the count. Even if Himawari unblocked them, he would be unable to mold chakra for some time.
Now, it was more even. Two against one. Bolt could work with that. He was better than his sister; stronger, faster, more talented, more experienced. He would defeat her first, then move on to the more difficult opponent: Sarada.
Bolt dropped the plate of steel to the ground and the chain faded to nothingness. He vowed, then and there, to throw himself head first into completing his sealing jutsu training. He'd go back to the Hidden Whirlpool if he had to. The ultimate sealing jutsu of his clan had defeated a Sage in a single blow.
Bolt grinned as his sister and Sarada frowned and slipped back into defensive stances.
Sarada didn't know what happened—only that it was bad. With Sage Transformation, Mitsuki was more powerful than even she was. And Bolt used only a single jutsu to take him down. Luckily, it seemed he could only use it once. He had discarded the headplate immediately after taking down Mitsuki.
Lightning crackled around her friend's body as he locked eyes with her. Doubt began to claw at Sarada's mind. She had been so sure of her victory before. Now, she didn't know if they would emerge victorious or taste bitter defeat.
Bolt turned and leveled a glare at Himawari. Sarada leapt into action as Bolt shot forward. Her strength was waning. She didn't know how Lee and his father could possibly keep up their inhuman strength and speed for so long. Their bodies had to be different on a genetic level; perhaps an unrecognized bloodline?
Himawari traded Gentle Fist strikes with her brother and Sarada tried to jump between the two of them as often as possible. Every punch she threw, Bolt dodged. Every kick she lashed out with, he dodged.
Sarada grunted as she felt Bolt's boot connect with her sternum. She was sent bodily tumbling over rough, jagged stone. When she rolled to a stop, her head snapped up. Bolt had his sister trapped; pinned between a cliff, two boulders, and himself. She had nowhere to go. "I'm sorry, sister. I love you," he said, ever so softly.
"Eight Trigrams! Sixty-Four Palms!" Himawari barked out, not going down without a fight.
"Eight Trigrams! One Hundred Twenty-Eight Palms!" Bolt called in response.
Sarada was helpless. She watched as Bolt overpowered his sister's technique with his own. He closed her chakra points, and she collapsed from exhaustion and pain.
It was down to her, and her alone. And, in her heart, doubt clawed at her. Sarada was afraid. Not of Bolt, but of losing. Of failing her first mission, but more importantly, failing the subject of that mission. If she lost, Bolt would have a bleak future and a short life.
That was something Sarada could not allow.
She raised her head as Bolt stalked toward her, his chin held high and his eyes cold.
It would probably destroy her friendship with him. Sarada knew it. It would definitely destroy any chance she had at having her fledgling feelings that had been growing since childhood returned. She knew that, too. But, if it saved his life, then that was a price Sarada was willing to pay.
Her Sharingan met his Byakugan, and for the first time, she cast a genjutsu on Bolt.
Through her dōjutsu, Sarada could see everything as it unfolded. Her breath caught in her chest as Bolt stilled for a moment. She thought he would cast off the illusion then and there. It had been a stupid thing to try. The Hyūga's control of their chakra pathways were unnaturally precise. He had noticed her tampering.
But then Bolt shook his head, and kept walking. Sarada couldn't believe it. He was too exhausted and too drained to notice the genjutsu. She swallowed hard as the illusion advanced to the next step.
Lightning coalesced in the palm of Bolt's hand. It was a technique she knew well. Chidori. "Let's end this," Bolt said with a weary sigh.
Sarada—or, rather, her illusory phantom—growled in response. She kneeled, and her own Chidori sparked to life. The two of them charged each other. Sarada watched as her phantom shoved her fist into Bolt's chest, only for his armor to hold fast. Then, he reached out and shoved his fist through her chest.
Sarada couldn't believe her friend's brutality—and, apparently, neither could he. Bolt staggered backwards as her lifeless phantom fell to the ground. Blood rapidly pooled under her body, and she made ragged, choking noises.
"No. No, no, no, no," Sarada heard Bolt utter under his breath, over and over like a prayer. He was staring at his bloodied hands in disbelief.
He walked over to her dying, prone form with unsteady legs. Sarada watched in terrified, horrified fascination. This was Bolt's innermost fear? Sarada looked down, and her phantom had changed appearances. She now wore a set of armor, including a crude helmet with a demonic mask. And they weren't in a valley anymore. They were on some sort of gruesome, bloody battlefield that was decorated with gore. It made Sarada's stomach churn.
Sarada watched as Bolt bent down and ever so carefully unclasped her mask from the helmet. It was a woman's face, but not one that she recognized. She was pretty, in a way, Sarada supposed. Pale skin and sea-green eyes with inky black hair. "Hikari?" Bolt croaked, now staggering backwards. Unshed tears pooled in his eyes. His armor evaporated into flickering flames of chakra that quickly burned themselves out.
Then he screamed. It was full of pain and heartbreak and sorrow. Full of sadness for things that could be and things that never would be again. The tears flowed down his cheeks in great rivers and he tore at his hair. Sarada could see bloody chunks of his scalp come away as he struck himself over and over.
In that moment, Sarada knew she had won. Her heart broke, at dealing her friend so much pain. But it would spare him from a lifetime of misery, so she pressed onward. Sarada shot forward, and struck Bolt clean in the chest with all the strength she could muster.
Bolt crashed into a stony cliff with enough force to bring the rock tumbling down atop him.
She had won.
Sarada fell to her knees, chest heaving from exhaustion as the adrenaline coursing through her veins began to ebb. She had to get up. She needed to secure Hikari and Tetsu, and then make sure her friends were all okay. It was going to be a long journey back to the Leaf, and she would need Shikadai's genius in order to develop a method of safely transporting three immensely powerful prisoners.
She turned, and began to walk towards the prone form of Tetsu.
That was when every hair on her body stood on end. Sarada shivered from head-to-toe. Her well-combed hair was frazzled and in disarray, and the hairs on her arms and legs were standing nearly perfectly vertically.
Sarada turned, already knowing what she would find but dreading it all the same.
There an explosion of light as Bolt burst forth from his rocky tomb. His armor was back—stronger than ever. His blonde hair stood on end as electricity arced up and down his entire body. His chakra scars, so reminiscent of whiskers that she had teased him about in their childhood, were inflamed and darkened. It gave him a wild and feral appearance.
Bolt growled like a rabid dog, and Sarada could see the rage and hate in his Byakugan.
Sarada didn't even blink—he was just gone. There was no warning. No blur of blue nor flash of red light as her Sharingan warned her of an approaching attack. Bolt was simply there, and then he wasn't.
And, for a brief moment, Sarada thought she was in a genjutsu.
That was when the pain came. All at once, she felt every pore in her body cry out in agony as she felt a single hand lightly touch her shoulder. Raw lightning coursed through her body as she was electrocuted. Where Bolt's hand rested, her shirt caught fire and her skin beneath his palm charred.
Sarada collapsed to her knees, and fell onto her back. She stared up at the sky with a dazed, pained expression.
Bolt loomed over her, like an executioner with his axe.
Bolt stared down at the girl he had known since childhood. She was his friend, but also more than that. She was his first friend, and he'd entertained a small crush on her since their days in the academy.
But even reminding himself of that, he couldn't extinguish the fires of anger that were scorching him from the inside out. She had used a genjutsu on him—trapped him in the throes of the nightmares that even today still haunted his dreams at night. And he cursed himself even more than her. He felt the genjutsu ensnare his mind and bewitch his senses. But he ignored it. Ignored his instincts.
And now, for the rest of his days, he would have to live with the image of reliving that hellish battlefield in the Battle of Fort Sugawara. Only, this time, it culminated with not killing his sister—but Hikari.
He locked eyes with Sarada, and for a time the only thing that the two of them saw was the emotions reflected in the other's eyes.
They were interrupted by a groan. Himawari, against all odds, stood up. She had a will of iron, bolt supposed, just like he did. He watched as she limped forward, favoring her right leg. "Brother," she rasped. "Don't do it. Please. Come home with me."
"No," Bolt spoke. He was surprised by his voice. It was hardly recognizable as his own. It was as hard as steel and cold as ice. Yet it burned with a righteous anger that he had never heard before—not in his own voice, and not in another's.
Himawari growled, and Bolt felt his respect for his sister climb. Even defeated, battered, and bereft of her chakra, she was still a fighter. She lunged forward—more of a fall, really—and Bolt felt his body move more than he controlled it.
He grabbed her by the wrist and hurled her into the ground next to Sarada. He allowed his Lightning Armor to fade. Instantly, he felt a wave of exhaustion slam into him. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. The second level of activation took more out of him than he thought he could endure.
It was a miracle he had even activated it at all. Only his rage had allowed him to endure the lightning coursing through his body.
Now, the question was, what to do with them?
Sarada stared into Bolt's eyes as he glared down at her and his sister. The girl whimpered in pain next to her. Sarada watched as something horribly broken and pained was reflected in those blue eyes.
"I can't have you two coming after me," Bolt spoke, after a time. "But I know you. You'll keep coming. Because I'm your friend, your brother, or the son of your Hokage."
His eyes shifted and warped. From broken and pained to cold and full of a dark glee. Sarada felt real fear claw at her from the inside. "You can't make me stop," Himawari spat defiantly.
Bolt chuckled. It was dark and throaty and tinged with a hint of madness that sent shivers down Sarada's spine. "That," he said. "Is where you are wrong, dear sister. I can. And I will."
He circled them like a vulture. "You said that my Gentle Fist, when combined with my Lightning Armor, causes permanent damage to a person's chakra pathways," he said, looming over them. Bolt smirked as his armor sparked back to life. "Then I'll close every chakra point in your bodies," he hissed. "Again, and again, and again!"
Sarada couldn't believe this was Bolt. It couldn't be. She knew him better than anyone. She knew there wasn't anyone this twisted and cruel inside him. His armor faded. "But that would be too cruel, even for me," Bolt said, coming to a stop beside her. He kneeled, and peered into her eyes.
"I've been practicing a new seal," he said, almost conversationally. "But it's difficult to master. Especially with no one to test it on..." Bolt trailed off.
Sarada's heart began to flutter in her chest as a grin bared his canines. "I think you two will be my first test subjects," Bolt said, as he kneeled.
Sarada watched as he began to weave a long series of hand seals. He continued on, minute after minute, until he came to the end of the chain. A flame of dark, inky black chakra blossomed at the tip of his index finger. "This will hurt," he warned. "A lot. Consider it punishment for what you inflicted on me."
With his free hand, Bolt pulled down the collar of her shirt. His finger loomed over her pale skin, and Sarada tried desperately to wriggle free of his grasp. "Cursed Seal of Obedience," Bolt intoned, and he pressed the flame of chakra to her neck.
Sarada screamed.
Bolt marched on. His mind was muddled and in a daze. Stone gave way to sand, and he trudged through it even as he sank up to his knees. On his back, he carried Tetsu over one shoulder and Hikari over the other.
In his addled state of mind, he laughed. He probably looked comical. Wandering through the desert with a man as large as a boulder thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Bolt sank to his knees.
He couldn't go on.
The battle, the second level of the Lightning Armor, and the two seals on Sarada and his sister had drained him of everything he had. Hikari would lecture him about the dangers of chakra exhaustion and he would wave her off.
Maybe next time he would listen to her.
Bolt stared up at the peak of a dune. A camel crested it, snorting as it reared its ugly head
He laughed one last time, and fell flat on his face as darkness took him.
A/N:
Next chapter is Leaf centric! If you have requests for character appearances, now is the time to ask for them! Planned: Naruto, Hinata, Kakashi, Sakura, and Tsunade. I was extra inspired to write this chapter, as I know it was cruel to leave you guys hanging like that. 11k+ words in 2 days! Next chapter officially wraps up the Land of Rain arc, and then we transition into the Land of Wind arc.
Since it's a common "issue" with Bolt's character, here is my reasoning with why he appears to rely on Hikari's healing so much. Strength is, as has been proven time and time again, inproportional to caution. The stronger someone is, the more likely they are to throw themselves head first into danger. Bolt doesn't get into the situations he does because he has Hikari, he does it because he thinks he is the best. There was a reason that the god-like Madara Uchiha was defeated not by Naruto or Sasuke in a duel, but by Zetsu stabbing him in the back. He was so powerful he never even considered he would be defeated outside of combat. It literally did not even cross his mind. He thought it was an impossibility, and so he never guarded against it. Hikari, in fact, points this out in chapter 34 I believe.
A reader asked me why I had Tetsu (and some other characters) swear by or in the name of the Sage of Six Paths, considering that many characters in canon did not know of him or thought of him as a myth. The answer is that it is part of the expansion on religion in the world, which will be expanded upon more directly in the upcoming arc—albeit minorly.
Also, reminder! This story is AU, and Mirai is the teacher of the new generation of Ino-Shika-Chō. As she should have been...
Answers to guest reviewers (you guys should make accounts!):
Guest (chapter 35) — Bolt doesn't know Rasenshuriken. Naruto (mistakenly) called his Vanishing Rasengan that, because it was what he thought it looked like. I've done well, in my opinion, in balancing power vs. time invested in gaining that power. Bolt made a highly unstable, highly dangerous version of the Lightning Armor in however many days I had him training with Eiji. He then spent the next four years developing it to a level that was recognizable as the technique of the Raikage. He most certainly wasn't "handed" his power. He worked for it. No mystical figure came down from the heavens and gave him his power, no mythical being sealed in his belly rolled over on its back and gave him his power, his eyes didn't unlock a mystical power beyond their own biological functions. He worked for everything he's gained so far. And he will continue to do so.
Thoughtful — In my own personal headcanon, healing jutsu make it so that all but the most serious of injuries aren't crippling. Nothing he has suffered yet has been a crippling injury. Organ destruction, severed limbs, extreme destruction on the cellular level, genjutsu/mental injuries, and chakra exhaustion are, in my mind, the number one killers of ninja. Anything else can be healed, in time.
Guest (chapter 34) — Bolt hasn't fought anyone with Wind Release, to my knowledge... maybe I made a slip somewhere. He is definitely weak to Wind Release. Stay tuned for more on that subject.