A shorter-than-usual chapter to kick off the whirlpool arc.
Also, user 'Fog-Knight' was magnanimous enough to leave the hundredth follow, yet ninja enough to disable PM's. If there's anything you want, you need only speak up.
FIRST INTERLUDE: THE WHIRLPOOL
He walked through the palace hallways with such grace and ease that a careless observer would mistake his motion for some kind of mystical floating.
The beautiful, carefully-crafted paintings that hung on the walls caught his eye, and he felt the smallest twinge of regret that he was here on a business-only reason. A shadow flickered in one of the side hallways, and he made a note of who it was – the individual was to be enrolled in the program.
"Shinobi!" a voice cried out from one of the nearby rooms, "raise the alarm!"
Shaking his head in mild amusement, the Sannin kept walking.
At his side was Kimimaro, as alive as he ever was, despite his failure to recover the boy Uchiha. Whatever the man from the stone had done to allow him to survive had taken something from the Kaguya, something he was still working to recover; his eyes betrayed uncertainty, as did the more sluggish manner in which he moved.
It was useless, bringing Kimimaro along. He wasn't the man he once was, and it would be quite a long time until he recovered; he was damaged, yes, but he wasn't broken… not yet. But a broken bone must be set properly, and this little excursion would be the first step in doing that.
Daimyo always had double doors leading to their courts – it was a habit of vanity, and it was so very easy to exploit. The man who oversaw the land of Rice was a clever politician, but he never quite grasped the significance of shinobi in politics… still, replacing him wouldn't take too long.
The doors swung open as he stepped before them, the court laying before him like an open book, every luxurious seat filled by an individual of some political importance. He didn't need to signal for his operatives – they were already in position.
"You!?" the man shouted in a rage, "I paid you already for the year, Sannin! Have you no honor?"
Orochimaru laughed.
"Two mistakes already, my lord," he grinned, glaring at the guards too paralyzed by fear to heft their pikes and spears, "You should know my name by now… it's not a terribly difficult one to remember…"
Having decided that the closest guard's arbitrary window of time to attack and win the right to live with an act of courage, devotion, or at least a desire to live, had run out, the Sannin took a quick second to wrap his fingers around the man's neck and flick, feeling the familiar heavy crack of vertebrae separating in a way they were never meant to… at least not in a mundane person.
Before the man's weapon had hit the floor, Orochimaru was halfway across the room, standing in front of the now wide-eyed Daimyo:
"You should also know what kind of man I am..."
He gave a small nod. Shinobi, clad in thick black robes and sound village headbands, began appearing from the shadows, from the ceiling, from within the court itself. Their hands flashed with brilliant steel, and beautiful red sprayed across the table and floor, pooling at the feet of freshly-made corpses.
As quickly as they came, the sound ninja were gone. Vanished with the wave of their leader's hand.
"I take what I want… when I want… from whoever I want…"
He shrugged, as if he found the thought pointless, dismissible. Kimimaro fell in to his right, watching with indifference as the Daimyo's advisors and servants lay dead.
"Because, you see… there is no one around to try and stop me."
"You… you monster!" the terrified man cried, struggling to move in his ceremonial robes, in his ceremonial chair… his ceremonial life.
"A monster!" Orochimaru exclaimed, grinning and spreading his arms, "Yes! A monster has come to your palace, the same monster you invited in yourself, a mere year ago!"
In a moment, the Kusanagi's handle stuck out from the man's abdomen, a vicious red circle spreading from the point where blade met flesh.
"Hah! Isn't it wonderful, Kimimaro? A world where only the willful survive!"
"A world where power is the only thing that matters…" the Kaguya muttered wistfully.
"Power alone is meaningless," the Sannin corrected, "one must have a clear goal for which he acquires it: be it Sarutobi's ideal of the Will of Fire, or my own ambition, power needs purpose."
"But then, what is my purpose now, Lord Orochimaru?" Kimimaro wondered, "Am I not broken? Have I not failed you?"
"You have."
"So, then…"
"What, dear Kimimaro? What have I to gain by punishing you? Will it give me Sasuke Uchiha? Will it return to me my bodyguards?"
"No, Orochimaru-sama," he admitted, lowering his head.
"Then forget the past- a sound leaves only an echo behind, and even that doesn't last forever…"
This was the first step. The first step in his plan… he would whip up the wind that would tear down the major villages, start up the storm whose reach would envelop the ninja nations and bring their crippled systems to their knees.
For it took losing his best men and being humiliated by the man from the stone to remind Orochimaru of the reason why he bothered – it was his ultimate ambition to master every jutsu.
And while he could live on forever, his life extended limitlessly by willing followers, his impatience got the better of him when his primary target became the Sharingan. Not anymore.
Now… now it was the time for the new world order, the destruction of all the old systems so that something new can come from their smoldering ruins. He would perpetuate this cycle of destruction and rebirth, for he is the only one who will be able to witness it in action forever.
The knowledge he could glean by merely observing such drastic changes… possessing it would be the closest thing to achieving godhood that man could accomplish…
And it all begins… with a single step.
"I don't understand, Kakashi-sensei… why can't we just walk across the water?"
A loud 'tsk' sound came from underneath the jonin's facemask, and he slowed their collective pace down a bit.
"It wouldn't end well. The entire waterfront is rigged with pulse traps; unless your chakra control is immaculate, the disruption will be enough to get you under the surface – the whirlpools handle the rest."
"And these pulses, are they tied to a specific technique?" Sasuke spoke up, curious.
Kakashi met his look, gave a tiny nod of approval, and then shook his head: "Probably … wasteful Jutsu aren't my specialty, however."
The idle conversation kept going for a minute longer, just until they reached the end of the stone outcropping. The jonin made two handsigns, and dropped his backpack, intent on securing the area against the likely presence of other shinobi squads.
Gathering up their bags in one place, the members of Team 7 took a moment to look at the village they were approaching – it was a ruin. Not to say that they haven't seen their share of wrecked buildings and places; their missions so far covered most, if not all the common scenarios a typical shinobi would come across during their service… this place was just… wrecked.
"Do you really think there's anyone still out there?" it was Sakura who voiced the question they all wanted to ask.
"It looks empty."
Naruto said nothing, however, watching the massive island ruin awe and silence. Was this really the place his mom lived before she came to live in the Leaf?
He spoke to Kakashi-sensei, got to see some old photographs. His father was recognizable enough – heck, he'd spent a big part of his childhood hanging around his dad's face on the mountain, blissfully unaware of who he was to him.
It was the reason why he was so deflated much of the time, actually. He felt like he should be doing more, trying harder… it was harder to do that these days. The realization that his parents weren't just a pair of nameless people, but two very specific individuals…
Kushina Uzumaki – his mom. The woman that kept the nine-tailed fox in chains for a large chunk of her life, a woman that gave her life to save the village.
Minato Namikaze – his dad. The leaf's fourth hokage, toad summoner, chakra genius much like his two predecessors, and the man that gave his life as well.
To think that the entity that had slain them was locked away inside of him, somehow…
"Naruto? You there?"
He stayed silent for only a moment longer, then spoke: "Whatever's in there… I want to see it, y'know?"
"And what if it's empty?"
It couldn't be, he knew. There was no way he'd learn what he has, do everything he did, only to come here and find nothing… it would be wrong, and Naruto himself believed that the world, by its' nature, can't be that wrong.
"Then I find another way," he declared, grinning:
"I want to live up to the legacies left behind by my mom and dad… but I don't know how to do that yet. It doesn't matter, though, because I'll keep going until I do."
"Always so dramatic, Naruto…" Kakashi spoke up, showing up in the impromptu camp, "though I guess it's as good a time as any… sit down, all of you."
Annoyed, confused and enthusiastic, the three genin did as they were told, plopping down on the stone outcropping, fixing their stares on the jonin.
"Last time I asked you to introduce yourselves, I told you to list the things you like, the things you hate, hobbies, and your dreams for the future… I want to know if anything's changed since then."
"Like that one time before the bell test?"
"Exactly."
"But then you gotta go first again, and actually say something this time!" Naruto smirked, pointing at the jonin, "don't just cop out like last time!"
Kakashi gave a mini-sigh, shaking his head. Surely they didn't think he'd pull the same trick twice? No, if he wanted to dodge the issue again, he'd do it in a completely different manner.
"Very well..."
They've grown up, he noticed. It wasn't a terribly big difference, but it was there; their missions, from the most humbling of D-Ranks to their run-ins with people like Zabuza, Itachi and Orochimaru, have all affected them, made them slightly better shinobi, slightly better people.
Heck, Kakashi himself failed team upon team, never once truly living up to his title of jonin instructor… until he met those three. He's grown up too, more than he'd ever care to admit, actually.
"My name is Kakashi Hatake. I like reading controversial books, and I don't like seeing people I care about getting hurt. My hobbies include competitive bouts with my fellow jonin, taking long walks in the forest, and maintaining my gear. As for my dreams… well, seeing you three earn your vests would be a good start."
Naruto's face brightened. This was clearly better than their first go around, so it only made sense he'd do the same.
"Alright!" he started, looking excited, "I'm Naruto Uzumaki. I still like ramen, but I also like meeting new people and making new friends. I don't like people who lie, and people that ignore me. My dream… Well, I'm still gonna be Hokage, and you better believe it, but I also want to help Sasuke complete his goal, and I want to live up to my parents' legacies!"
"I don't need your help, Naruto. I can complete my goal on my own."
"Well you have it, so you better start thinking about how I can help instead of trying to brush me off! We're friends, Sasuke, and I'll prove it!"
This time, the inevitable 'Hn' noise came slower than usual. While neither Naruto nor Sakura noticed, Kakashi sure did, taking it as a sign of improvement.
He realized…When the day comes, and he no longer had any doubt that it will, that Sasuke accepts Naruto's offer… it'll be the day Team 7 wouldn't need him to guide them anymore.
"Sakura?"
"Right…" she sighed, then collected herself:
"I am Sakura Haruno… I like the feeling I get when we finish a mission successfully, and I don't like it when my teammates fight."
To emphasize, she glared at the two, who returned glares of equal, if not greater intensity.
"I don't like feeling useless and weak, and my dream…"
She hesitated there, unsure of what to say. Being with Sasuke was still her dream – it probably always would be. However, she wanted more from herself now. Being Team 7's third wheel was... not that satisfying anymore.
"…My dream, I think, is to prove to everyone that I am strong. That the fate they put in me is justified…"
"A noble pursuit," Kakashi offered, then met eyes with the Uchiha.
'Come on, say it,' he dared, never once speaking.
Sasuke merely smirked:
"It's the exact same question…" he began, still looking more amused than anything, "and you still get it wrong."
"I don't follow," Naruto said, confused.
"You're asking me about dreams… but what I have is a goal. I made that clear last time."
"Come on, Sasuke, do it properly," Kakashi chided.
"Fine… My name is Sasuke Uchiha. I like it when I progress as a shinobi, and I don't like anything that amounts to wasting my time…" he leaned forward, closing his eyes for a moment, "My goal remains unchanged; I will restore my clan, and slay Itachi Uchiha… I will complete that goal."
"Things are developing differently than anticipated," the first man spoke, gaze focused on the village below, "while ultimately of no consequence, these…alterations might prove troublesome in the short term."
"If they are of no consequence, why bring them to my attention?" the second man asked, closing his eyes for but a moment, "surely you aren't that idle."
"Idle? No."
They were both tired. The way of the shinobi, they both realized, would lock the world in an endless cycle of conflict that didn't much care about what it consumed; so long as the pyres of conflict blazed on, someone would be suffering.
Neither would ever consider simply retiring… that was the easy way out.
"Do you think he is a threat?" the first man asked.
"No."
"Yet he moves quickly, recruiting powerful individuals to his cause – wittingly or unwittingly."
"There are bigger threats."
"Oh.." the first man sighed, disappointed,"…him."
"He is a dangerous man to be left alone."
"Then why not act?" the man challenged, "Surely you can stop him? You are a man of great ability, after all."
There was no reply.
Annoyed, the first man began walking, blending into the shadows and then melting away in them. It was a petty trick, played for an audience of none; a wasted effort.
He could never understand… threats approached from all sides, and it was only the nobility of their efforts that ensured safety… If one stopped to brush off every speck of dust that falls, it would be all he ever did.
Some things couldn't be brushed off so easily, however… some things demanded attention, like a bawling child with no mother, or a fire that would consume all in its' path if left to rage.
Right now, there were four pieces on the board, with a fifth threatening to step forward and claim a spot for itself. They could not hope to snuff out every spark… eventually, some would make fires.
Blazing pieces, he realized, on a blazing board.
He turned to speak to the woman, the one that always lingered close, in the shadows:
"Come, we've work to do."
To make up for some of those missing words, I'll go crazy with a long authors note, mostly filled with questions that you can answer at your leisure:
-Your prediction, right off the bat: How does this story end? (I know the answer, as does another wonderful person, but I wanna hear your theories, if any exist)
-Chapter length? I aim for the crisp 4000 words, but I figure shorter chapters would mean faster updates? (This isn't a promise, just speculation)
-Humor, yes or no? The original series was fairly amusing in that regard, Shippuden less so, but humor was undoubtedly a part of Naruto... should it be part of this fic as well?
-Pairings? It's still early in the story, but which ones would you like to see most in this story? And why?
-About Shovel Guy... Should I devote a bit more screen time to him? He's basically a plot element, but I've noticed you guys (and gals) react favorably, so it's a possibility.
-Movies? To be honest, I've only seen 'Blood Prison', 'Road to Ninja' and 'The Last', and would appreciate input on whether any of the other ones is worth including in the story in some way.
Every answer will go into the magic inspiration machine that helps me sit down and work up something readable. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!