The Pantheon of Nine
By: Finn Mertenz
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN NARUTO. I DO NOT CLAIM TO OWN NARUTO.
Chapter 136: A Mother's Love! And A Father's Teachings.
Friday 10:17pm, October 24th 58SSP.
Colliding against one another, a torrent of wind was battered by stray water droplets. Expelled by Kegon and Fuu, these old allies of Taki now stood as enemies on opposing sides.
Basked by pristine rays of moonlight, these ninja fought atop flat plains of grass. Encompassed by withered and decayed trees, naked branches wavered under an artificial breeze.
Those eyes... Kegon became speechless.
Glaring with undeterred pupils, he examined the orange and radiant eyes of Fuu. An identical tone to the hairclip she wore, her past gaze of comedy and laughter was devoid and missing.
Full of hatred and loneliness. He swallowed spit.
Ages ago, during the reign of Hisen, Chōmei was sealed into Fuu's child-sized body. Like all jinchūriki, she was a weapon and tool of her village, a deterrent to shinobi conflict and war.
However, that aspect of life was left behind, shattered by her desertion from Taki. The expression on her face was stern, deprived of all emotion, save the sensation of disgust and annoyance.
"Is this all the village has to offer?" Fuu scoffed.
With a sole hand resting upon her petite and slim waist, clouds swirled overhead. As dark and dense as the perpetual void, the full moon was eventually blotted and hid from sight.
Regaining his balance, Omoi leapt to the offense, directing a crimson-hilted blade. Waved and swung in the slanted angle of a vertical slash, this edge was met by a sphere of emerald.
Lavished and lain with wired strings of silky webs, this orb of slime pulsed with light. Shaped around the tiny kunoichi it housed, an aura of viridescent chakra permeated the night sky.
Promoted since the confrontation of Tobi, Omoi rightfully earned the Jonin title. Parrying the armored hull of Fuu's cocoon, free fingers were used to hastily preform one-handed seals.
Crying the words "Lighting Style: Thunderbolt!" static beams of blue surged outward. Ricocheting off the buzzed silhouette of a thousand insects, booming thunder enhanced their approach.
Bursting from the cocoon that enshrined her, Fuu soared high with insectile wings. Defined by clasped palms, chakra swelled inside her stomach, molded, fed and churned by Chōmei.
Rushing through the Boar, Dog, Ram and Rat seals, tan cheeks bulged and throbbed. Employing Insect Style: Net-Shaped Prison, strands of green-tinted silk launched from her mouth.
True to their namesake, these webs spread and stretched, trapping Omoi and Kegon. Suspended above them, Fuu's wings hummed with the chittered sound of flapping beetle shells.
Switching her assault from Ninjutsu to Taijutsu, she swiftly dove towards the earth. Led by a clenched and outstretched fist, her technique was known as Hidden Waterfall Hurricane.
Cloaked by a tangible veil of green, her display was halted only by Shibuki's intervention. Caught by the frantic chase between Karui and Yōrō, all attention shifted to their rogue kunoichi.
Catching Fuu's knuckles with the girth of a single palm, his eyes were hidden by shade. Sundering chunks of cauterized stone, it dissolved into shifted grains of dirt, dust and sand.
Despite the weight of this technique, Shibuki's own feet remained rigid and absolute. More than the Hero's Water, he was infused with the will of Hisen, and the praise of Sasuke.
Breaking off the attack, Fuu's wingspan allowed her to raise over the barren tree-line. Pitted against five shinobi, one happened to be the 4th Sukage, and the bestfriend from her childhood.
Meanwhile.
Retaining a singular grip on Hiramekarei, Chōjūrō rushed across moon-basked waves. Aided by Ao's quickened outline, they advanced on Suigetsu, wielding Nuibari aloft with pride.
Emboldened by the Byakugan he possessed, Ao's Taijutsu was his signature technique. Fighting with the Gentle Fist of the Hyuga clan, he deflected and parried the tip of Suigetsu's blade.
Embroiled in this shinobi conflict, Mifune and Idate jumped from floating pieces of debris. Ordinary soldiers would be weighted down by layered plates of armor, but not these veterans.
Maneuvering like a solidified unit, Idate's Sword of the Thunder God buzzed with static. Pressed against Nuibari, its cylindrical edge was electrified, illuminating Suigetsu's pale face.
Partially concealed by the stiff fabric from his raised collar, a shark-like smile stretched. Like all Akatsuki, this rogue ninja from Kiri wore red clouded and black robes with long sleeves.
Struck by a horizontal slash from Kurosawa, Mifune's blade, his upper body splashed. Falling into a puddle of water, his liquified carcass mixed with salted streams of the ocean below.
Taking a pause before retaking his form, three Suigetsu's rose from currents of water. Each holding a mirrored image of Nuibari, needled threads of string were plucked and drawn.
With a rectangular handguard and a long hilt wrapped in bandages, Mifune prepared. Holding this weapon with both hands in front of his torso, both feet rested on a stationary log.
Enveloped by a crackling shell of lightning, surrounding water sizzled beneath Idate. Baring a gift from Naruto, and a heirloom of Tobirama, the Sword of the Thunder God was his blade.
Charging forth, the ocean thrashed as three Suigetsu's snickered with sharp teeth. Blocked by a strengthened swale of water, Ao and Chōjūrō enforced Water Style: Raging Waves.
Summoned by a danced combination of the Dragon, Tiger and Hare hand seals. It was a C-rank jutsu, fueled by the chakra of two Jonin, merged into one gigantic attack of Ninjutsu.
Usually spewed from the mouth in the shape of a waterfall-like stream, it gushed. Preformed in perfect coordination, separate geysers merged, creating a mountainous tsunami.
Oblivious to this lethal current of liquid, all Suigetsu's continued their forward path. The jinchūriki for Gyūki faced twin delegates from different worlds, elite shinobi and armed samurai.
Meanwhile.
"That technique... Is it because of the Rinnegan?!" A spat dirt from his mouth.
Rising from a dislodged and crumbled pile of stone, he brushed off stray pebbles. Trailing this action, the 5th Hokage also rose to his feet, stained with a stream of blood upon his face.
Given a great view of the battle before them, Kisame's tsunami surged in haste. Met by an ethereal shield of violet light, this liquified assault was drained of its chakra, losing all density.
Leaping from the failed wave he rode, Kisame's sandaled feet rooted themselves. Enabled by chakra control, he stood sideways on a brick wall, slashing out with Samehada's girth.
"Yes, Kakashi spoke of it before." Guy answered.
Gifted with the control of gravity, Naruto could manipulate unseen forces with ease. Enabled by the sacred and rippled pupils he possessed, anything was subject to his eyes of amethyst.
"Less talking! More fighting!" Temari howled.
Swinging the unlatched outline of her stretched fan, currents of sandy wind blew. Amplified by one handed seals from Deidara, the Bird, Snake, Monkey and Dog seals were preformed.
"Lightning Style: Electric Ball!" Deidara screeched.
Ushered by these words, a spark of yellow light erupted into existence, radiant. Cocooned by pulsing arcs of visible static, this orb of chakra swelled to the size of a boulder, engorged.
Propelled outward, cobbled rock singed beneath its approach, sparkling with light. Illuminating the entirety of Uzushio's sewer system, five Kage continued their battle against Naruto.
Gagged and choked by a mouthful of water, this liquid churned inside Naruto's stomach. Launched with the strength of a volatile geyser, shaped into Water Style: Great Waterfall Jutsu.
Colliding against one another, Deidara's electric technique sizzled as water drenched it. Propelled into vivid and wild streams of tangible static, the overhanging ceiling collapsed.
Saved only by the metallic hull of Temari's fan, she blockaded Deidara from harm. During this, Kisame hid below Samehada as A and Guy used Taijutsu to punch themselves free.
Briefly blinded by flawless rays of moonlight, the 5th Hokage squinted with a groan. Even the 4th Raikage was robbed of his eyesight, muffled by tumbling pillars of bricks and concrete.
Paved by the dilapidated ruins around them, the five Kage emerged under the night. Suspended alongside white clouds, the streets of Uzushio were basked by artificial fog and the moon.
Situated atop a rusted and iron streetlight, its source of light was corroded, broken. Worn and demolished with age and decades below the waves, coral adorned this aluminum poll.
Consumed by elongated fabric from the red clouded robes he wore, Naruto glared. Swallowed by black sleeves, arms were hidden, like the whiskered face behind his raised collar.
"He's just a child!" Temari sneered.
Filled with disbelief and dismay, the 5th Kazekage took notice of Naruto's attire. Clear and pressed, his outfit was spotless and spread, devoid of any stain, blot or speck of filth.
This realization caused her mouth to fall open, developing saucer-like eyes of teal. Confronted by five Kage-level shinobi, Naruto was lost in thought, displaying zero concern or dread.
"I don't think you have much room to talk." Kisame snickered.
Charging in unison, Guy and A moved with mirrored feet, traversing an ancient street. Achieving a level of wonder, he activated the 4th Gate: Gate of Pain, without any verbal command.
Unmoved by these elite shinobi, Naruto's eyes of violet were hazed and blurred. In reality, he was there, but mentality, he was stuck in a different plain, thinking begotten thoughts.
Paralleled by A's Lightning Style Armor, the Seal of the Thunder God sprung fast. Evading a clenched fist from the 4th Raikage, Naruto teleported to a preplaced kunai on an opposing roof.
Following this flashed blur of speed, Guy scoffed the ground with stretched feet. Paved by white eyes with no pupils, scarlet skin throbbed as protruding veins spread across him.
Throwing a smoldered fist with the strength of a tumbled avalanched, Guy swung. Caught by the palm of Naruto, their chakra clashed, demolishing an olden house and home below.
Devolved into an exchange of hand-to-hand Taijutsu, the 5th Hokage was wrought. With each strike, memories from the past fueled him, the laugh of Lee, and the lively hood of Kakashi.
Cracking bricked stone beneath the stomp of his left foot, Guy swelled with might. Meeting this lethal display with his own, Naruto employed Water Style: Thrusted Pillar with speed.
A multi-combination of Ninjutsu and Taijutsu, this technique was created by Tobirama. Deflecting a punch directed at him, he struck the 5th Hokage before summoning fresh water.
Aimed by the raised girth from Naruto's hand, a column of liquid rose into existence. Ensnared by this jutsu, Guy spun to break free, radiating steam and heat from overcooked skin.
As the 5th Hokage distanced himself, Kisame and A surged, lit by dazzled moonlight. Seeking to overwhelm the rogue ninja in front of them, they maneuvered from separate directions.
Ducking beneath the hone and serrated edge of Samehada, Naruto's eyes grew bright. Tips of jarred whiskers were snipped and shredded, mere inches away from growling scales.
Coated in static lightning, the 4th Raikage directed his left fist, illuminated by blue hue. Striking Naruto's blond scalp, his cloaked body abruptly bubbled and gorged, taking shape.
Divided into a dozen ravens, they swiftly merged behind their middle-aged attacker. Obscured by plucked and floating feathers, A grunted, frantically glancing over his own shoulder.
Blindsided by a stiff barrage of three well-placed kicks, the 4th Raikage was struck. Launched into the air, Naruto's assault was a mirror image of Lee's fabled fighting style, Taijutsu.
Leaping forth to continue this attack, Naruto pulled moist droplets from the wet air. Giving life to a blade of water, chakra-infused liquid coursed through it, highly pressurized and thick.
Intent on ending the annoyance before him, Naruto slashed out with his technique. Parried by the unique alloy of Temari's closed fan, he didn't fight just one ninja, but five at once.
This was the reality forced upon him, a path laid out and written by the shinobi world. The inherited dream of Minato, Jiraiya and Iruka, an idealistic notion of peace and tranquility.
Meanwhile.
Ravines of earth trembled as pillars of sand crashed against dunes of Golden Dust. A battlefield of cracked boulders and desolate land, a view of tan stretched beyond the far horizon.
Situated amongst this sea of grained particles, Matsuri and Kankūro stood together. Shielded by the puppeteer body of his father, the 4th Kazekage protected this firstborn son in death.
However, Gaara himself never saw this love, a foreign sensation from his cold father. Only Yashamaru gave him the attention he graved in youth, tragically scarred by Rasa's training.
Awash in endless waves of pulverized gold, Gaara was instantly cocooned by sand. Poured from the gourd he carried, it's density was hardened and stern, a relic from Suna's playground.
To some, this sand was nothing but leftover dirt, a worthless and far-flung heirloom. Gaara thought differently, dwelling on a singular realization that he held, learned from hardship.
His mother loved him, emotions so strong, she blessed Suna's sand with dying breathe. Barricaded by fingered hands of tan grain, even Golden Dust couldn't penetrate this trove.
Stricken by the granular face of his long dead mother, Kankūro's mouth fell open. Protecting her baby boy, the same child that took her life during childbirth, a mother's love was absolute.
Now, years after birth, Rasa's prized son met his wife's feeble born runt in combat. Cursed with red hair, crying since inception, and robbing his mom of life, Gaara was always scorned.
Clenching his teeth in contempt, Kankūro strained himself, desperately trying to speak. Despite this, nothing came to be heard, tortured by robbed decisions from his isolated childhood.
-Flashback-
Quietly sulking, an 8 year old Kankūro sat inside the Kazekage's office, visibly bored. Eventually glancing out an opened window, the silhouette of Suna was sunbaked and crisp.
Sniffling, he wore a long-sleeved black shirt with matching pants and shinobi shoes. Scratching his nose, strands of brown hair were needled and spiked, but well-kempt and cut.
Disturbed by the creak of worn wood, an adjacent door was thrown open with haste. Stepping inside, Rasa slammed this door shut, dressed in white and emerald robes of prominence.
Sinking beneath the sweltered gaze of his father, Kankūro swallowed a wad of spit. Home for the weekend, his test results were just received, gifted B+ on an essay about Kugutsu.
A young child, Kankūro was still a son of the Kazekage, enrolled in Suna's Academy. Held to a higher standard than his older sister, he timidly awaited the ire and fury of his father.
"I know I messed up..." Kankūro stuttered.
Intercepting these words, Rasa crossed both arms behind his back before strolling. Reaching the window, the saucer-shaped hat of the Kazekage hid his expression, eyes and scalp.
"But those tests can be so hard!" He leapt to his feet.
Confronted only by an etched silence, its permeating aura stretched beyond count. Dwarfed by his father's shadow, Kankūro's face fell towards the ground, defeated and distained.
Pulled from this paranoia by a comforting hand, Rasa took hold of his son's shoulder. Emanating a smile of fatherly joy and delight, his usual outlook was broken, grinning wide.
"Don't worry, you did a great job!" Rasa scrubbed his son's scalp.
Left silent by this unbelievable break in persona, Kankūro developed widened eyes. Stealing this unattainable jolt of lively wonder, crimson hair passed along an exterior street.
Escorted home by Temari and Yashamaru, a 5 year old Gaara was anxious and stiff. Hesitantly raising his face, he caught the heated pupils of his father, eyes full of hate and regret.
That was an unspoken act, known but never divulged, Rasa hated his lastborn son. Blamed for the death of his wife, he valued this child only as a tool and vessel for Shukaku.
Drowned by this translation of eyesight, Gaara cowered, gripping Yashamaru tight. Choked by the awkward nature of this exchange, Kankūro tugged on the cloth of his father's robe.
"What's wrong with lil bro? Did he do something wrong?" Kankūro questioned.
"Don't worry about him..." Rasa's response was empty.
Careless and unconcerned, the 4th Kazekage planned to keep his late son on a lease. That wasn't the fate he dreamed for Kankūro, inspired to leave behind a grand country for his child.
"Stay focused only on the ninja road ahead." He encouraged.
"Because when my days are done... Suna will be yours." A commitment was made.
-Flashback Ends-
Promised a prized life of nobility, Kankūro never dreamed or desired to be Kazekage. Allowing the rank and praise to fall upon his well deserving older sister, Suna's finest Wind Style user.
He sought only to live the normal life his younger self dreamed of, so very long ago. A memory from the first days of his mother's last pregnancy, he remembered a quiet reality.
Back then, Rasa would always smile and laugh, speaking big hopes for his third child. Now, over a decade since the inception of these thoughts, Kankūro was forced to battle his brother.
Meanwhile.
Aged pillars of iron and worn beams of wood were scorched by crackling blue flames. Once posed, peaceful and serene, Makapu Village was a charred remnant of its former glory.
Embroiled and snared by explosive flares of fire and soot, Meng rolled for safety. Joined by Olivia, these youthful kunoichi were faced against Karin, the triumphant jinchūriki for Matatabi.
Adding their own strength to this battle, Kurobachi's hands were coated in slick honey. Also, Suzumebachi was cloaked by a tangible and buzzing cloak of bees, coating burnt wounds.
Battered by rippled wind from the shock of Karin's clasped palms, fiery cinders swelled. Gorged and bloated with chakra, chaotic and fierce currents of wind bellowed through streets.
Snagged and caught by howling gusts, broken crates, barrels and shattered glass flew. With crossed arms raised in front of her face, Meng squinted as Olivia's halberd swung out.
Twirled and spun with the finesse of a cane, a vortex of normalcy cut through dirty air. While the surrounding environment was blown, demolished and devastated, Olivia saved her allies.
A startling revelation, this wave of wind was nothing but an aftershock of might. Following this steep clap, Karin weaved through a quickened blur of hand seals, to fast too notice.
Yanking her heated palms from one another, a staff of embers brightly took shape. Titled as Fire Style: Flame Spear Jutsu, fiery waves of blue were molded and maintained by chakra.
Swiftly used to deflect this staff of embers, the seal on Olivia's halberd grew vibrant. However, even this unique degree of Fuinjutsu was incapable of draining Karin's fire, too hot.
In fact, this cylindrical rod barely survived the intense inferno it collided and brushed. Kept intact just long enough to parry a set of blows. it melted to puddled ooze, forcibly dropped.
Saved by the hypnotic beat of muffled music, Olivia dove below a seared slash of flame. Oblivious to singed ends of hair, she rolled from an eruption of cinders, coughing aloud.
Dancing to unheard beats from her headphones, twin kunai of black were hastily drawn. Lunged towards the red clouded attire Karin wore, their tips were met by sweltering torrents.
Pouring strength in this assault, Kurobachi and his younger sister weaved identical seals. Paved by popped muscles and stretched joints, they settled into the Hare seal, brooding chakra.
If you asked these siblings of Iwa what their dreams were, they'd tell you a rehearsed lie. One for his country, and the other for her pride, but each of these answers were false.
They sought the restoration of their clan, the unbridled glory that Kamizuru once held. The clan that gave birth to the 1st Tsuchikage, a name once feared and revered, now forgotten.
Like their confrontation of the Zero Tail's, along Sakura and Deidara, this was their chance. To redeem the Kamizuru and prove themselves worthy descendants of the 1st Tsuchikage.
This driving goal was overshadowed by Meng's own resolve, utilizing her trained ninja skill. Enabled by a Steam Style version of the Body Flicker technique, she dissolved into hot fog.
Taking shape beside the periled outline of her friend, she pulled Olivia to misted safety. Gifted a clear path for their jutsu, the heirs of Kamizuru caused the night sky to roar with thunder.
Bridging their descent, a sparse collection of droplets fell, neither water, sleet, ash or snow. Instead, sweetened blots of honey, cascading the landscape in a bath of amber and auburn.
A merged technique, this variation of Honey Style: Sugared Rainfall, covered all of Makapu. Drenched by this downpour, Karin's viridescent flames began to waver, dwindle and fade.
Until the singular tail upon her back began to wiggle and writhe in unprotested contempt. Hewn together from crackled embers of sapphire, another tail sprouted alongside the first.
Entranced by this dark shift of chakra, Karin's facial expression became rabid and feline. Grinning with sharp and jagged teeth, opposing pupils swelled as wide as saucers with lust.
Not a craving for food, or knowledge, this was a desire for blood, fueled by ancient power. The inherited right that Matatabi gave all hosts, control of blue flames were unparalleled.
Hunched forward, Karin dropped onto all four limbs before hissing like an enraged tiger. Gushing from her sweat glands, a blemished nova of azure swallowed the fabric she wore.
Spreading further, teeth cracked as Karin released a stark howl, scorching the street. Soon, her body was cocooned by twirling currents of blue flame, replacing all human appearance.
The last trait to disappear, Karin's scalp was veiled and enveloped, diluted by screams. Achieving a perfect transformation, this kunoichi of Kusa was gone, giving Matatabi full control.
Meanwhile.
A reprieve from the darkened outline of clouds above, an innocent bunny sniffled its nose. Nestled between the Land of Frost and the Land of Lightning, Chin Village sat under the moon.
Tearing through this soothing depiction, spires of coral shredded, speared and jutted out. Stomped beneath the frantic steps of Sakura and Tayuya, a fuzzy penguin hat was stained.
Embroiled against one another, loosened threads of pink hair fell beneath thrashing wind. Specializing in Ninjutsu, that didn't deter Tayuya's rage, matching flung fists with flat palms.
Rushing to aid his dream girl, Ranmaru's pupils grew bright with a flashing tone of scarlet. Attempt to trap his red-haired opponent with Genjutsu, a column of coral blocked his view.
Seeking to enable his own aid, Gennō pulled a bundle of sealed scrolls from his waist pouch. Unrolled and spread, the black kanji upon them emanated an aura of brightened azure.
Signaled by a puff of smoke, hundreds of spiraled shuriken were propelled in a blind attack. Visible to their caster, their target was Tayuya's back, fighting Sakura with Taijutsu.
Saved by hardened skin, a layer of crimson coated Tayuya's shoulders, piercing clouded robes. Absorbing, deflecting and withstanding the brunt of Gennō's blades, broken metal rang.
Stabbing the dirt-paved street as they fell, shattered blades were kicked by spastic feet. A lethal shinobi in his right, Raiga charged with the twin blades of Kiba, bathed by lightning.
Wielding these sacred blades of old, their tips and edges were directed and slashed out. Funneling a current of static, this beam of azure was caught and transmitted by spiked coral.
Evading shuriken, side-stepping punches that held mountainous strength, and striding. Tayuya cared nothing about herself, only the whiskered blond boy she so often thought about.
To this orphaned teenager of the Uzumaki, trained, used and tossed aside by Orochimaru. Life alongside Naruto was the reality she never experienced, the first time she ever felt human.
An enemy of the shinobi and samurai, and a member of the terrorist group, Akatsuki. Tayuya felt genuine joy, laughing with snorted breathe as she leapt over a horizontal kick.
Blockaded by opponents on all sides, cone-shaped coral sprouted from her finger tips. Thrown in retaliation, Gennō scrambled to save Ranmaru while Raiga parried several shards.
Breaking the gap between his red-haired nemesis, this swordsmen of static lunged forth. Swung in a vertical slash, the sole edge of Kiba was caught, ensnared by coral-coated hands.
Yanked like a ragdoll, this middle-aged ninja was tossed aside, thrown through a far roof. Snorting in triumph, Tayuya sneered as a shaved shin propelled towards her with haste.
Too shocked to respond, this jinchūriki was struck, hit in the face by a quickened swipe. Soared and surged, she crashed and collided through a dozen damaged walls, spreading debris.
Scoffing the street with sandal shoes, the emerald pupils of Sakura squinted and narrowed. Months ago, she was nothing but a complaintive kunoichi, going through the motions.
This persona of old was completely gone, broken by Naruto's betrayal, and Kakashi's loss. The first ninja from a clan of civilians, she had much too prove, pride, value, and purpose.
Evading a well-placed growth of coral, scarlet spires abruptly rose and protruded below. Chopped in half by Sakura's palm, they continued to multiple, turning the street into a forest.
Skewered and splintered, sliced and dilapidated, past homes of peace were devastated. Stricken by the same Uzumaki they housed so long ago, Tayuya held no semblance of concern.
In fact, this angry and bloodied kunoichi pulled herself from crumbled wood and plaster. Spitting crimson bile and ichor from her wounded lip, a stark scowl infected her blemished face.
Gone were the young and innocent children these kunoichi once represented in youth. Instead, they thought only of the future they craved, hoping to make up everything they lost.
Meanwhile.
Battling mere miles from Bamboo Village, Sasame and Kagerō maneuvered through trees. Dancing from barren branch to branch, they leapt from crackling and viridescent embers.
Joined by their hunch-backed Dokage, Dosu's metallic gauntlet scraped against tree bark. Creating a distinct and frightening echo that radiated, soundwaves rippled and rang out.
Dispersing sweltered streams and canals of emerald fire, audible chakra resonated aloud. Ricocheted and bouncing off adjacent bark, the frigid forest below was steeply deafened.
Contorted into a chaotic swale of heat and transparent wind, sound and flames crashed. Spewing flickered sparks and pitched tones, Sasame and Kagerō were forced to cover their ears.
Tripping over a stray sprout, Sasame fell and plummeted, racing towards the forest floor. Rescued only by Kagerō, this orange-haired kunoichi blushed as her pale friend held her.
Carried in the position of a bride, Sasame was swept to safety by a tornado of blue. The result of a hundred butterflies acting as one, Kagerō was swarmed, swirling above sight.
Left alone to confront the scaled opponent he faced, Dosu's visible eye leered in interest. Traumatized by uprooted rock and stone, a single tree was torn from the earth by Isaribi.
Tossed like a plaything, this charred husk of lumber dwarfed Dosu as it fell towards him. Enabled by the Dokage title, sandaled feet dug into disheveled dirt, the posture of a statue.
Unhindered by the iconic crook in his back, Dosu rolled, jumped and twirled over fire. Singing the sewn ends and sleeves of his Kage robe, evasion didn't stop there, sliding under soot.
Possible only because of the strict curve in his back, Dosu slid beneath thinly tree roots. Rising to meet the engulfed outline of Isaribi, an iron palm caught her flame covered fist.
Triggered by every twitch, snap and flick, the 4th Dokage was emboldened by his gauntlet. Amplified by chakra control, his reflexes were brought and honed to the speed of sound.
In the far-off past, this deformed boy was an orphan inside the destitute Land of Rice Fields. Now, years after Orochimaru's conquest and renaming of the country, he stood as a Kage.
To some, this disabled and hunched shinobi was nothing but a fraud, pretending to rule Oto. Those in the Fuma clan knew better, personally exposed, tested and awed by his devotion.
Perfectly leaping over the fiery sweep of Isaribi's wrist, Dosu spun like a tightened cannonball. Extending a singular foot outward, he assaulted the irregular scales upon her frail cheek.
Brandished with the dirtied stain of a foot across her face, Isaribi was oblivious to this knowledge. Driven only by one thought, the imperative drive to show worth to her friends.
Meanwhile.
A gushing blizzard of snow, ice and frost, the village of Kai wasn't recognizable to its people. The battlefield between two elite members of the Yuki clan, Paku and Haku fought.
Seeking to add her own snowy bliss to this confrontation, Kahyō was swept aside by wind. Harsh and bellowed, volatile currents of snowflakes were too powerful for minor shinobi.
Sapphire columns of icicles were met by an ornate barricade of crimson and pillared ice. Enthralled by the gassed steam of Kokuō, sweltering mist corroded loose sections of rooftile.
Chopped in half by the mammoth slice of Kubikiribōchō, Zabuza howled with demonic might. Once a remote and forgettable island nation, the Land of Waves now fought for the world.
Parried and scraped, deflected and dismantled, Zabuza slashed a barrage of icy senbon. Crowded with cramped mounds of snow, cobbled brick and stone below was frozen solid.
Both veteran ninja experienced with decades of conflict and combat, Paku and Zabuza stood. With petite and slender movements, she crawled over muscular limbs, wielding frost.
Unhindered by the slick landscape he stood upon, Haku displayed masterful chakra control. Shielded by a glacial wall, he repetitively struck his own technique, cracked and shattered.
Expelled into a concentrated torrent of pulverized shards, miniature ice shot like rapid gunfire. Plunged into the snowed street, Paku and Zabuza hid behind Kubikiribōchō's silhouette.
Warded from harm, surrounding homes, trash and street lights were stricken by fierce snow. Untied by frantic gusts, the linen around Zabuza's mouth fell open, partially unraveled.
Clenched with grinded teeth, he waited for Haku's frigid onslaught too come to an end. Standing up afterwards, he pulled Kubikiribōchō from the ground before groaning in annoyance.
Blocking the path ahead, an unwired street light fell beneath previous temperatures of frost. Utilizing twin limbs of one-handed seals, Haku summoned a gigantic spire of jewel.
Holding the tone of crystalized scarlet, its clear-through outline was breeched by moonlight. Bathing Kai underneath an aura of red, Zabuza raised his sacred blade in reply, groaning.
Like the apprentice he taught and cared for, the 1st Namikage preformed one-handed seals. Weaving through a diverse array of blurred symbols, Water Style: Water Dragon Jutsu roared.
Swiftly strengthened by Paku's own innovation, both hands were pressed into the Dog seal. Combined with Zabuza's technique, swirling water was flash frozen by pristine Ice Style.
Swollen into an icy behemoth of snow, frost and watery chakra, this jutsu rushed forward. Earning a stiff gaze from Haku, two tails of scarlet sprouted from his lower back, ethereal.
Fighting alongside Kokuō in such a short timespan, Haku had become a perfect jinchūriki. Engorged with primordial chakra, red markings took shape below his eyes, followed by steam.
Swallowed by a cloaked outline of red, Kokuō's chakra coated the entirety of Haku's body. As twin tails swished and Paku grimaced, Zabuza knew that the era of shinobi was at an end.
Meanwhile.
No matter the number, bubbles burst as Hinata's flat palms were slashed and thrust. A kunoichi and princess in her own right, she engaged the jinchūriki of Saiken, the fabled Six Tails.
While Ino cowered, Sazanami awed and Ryūzetsu gasped, Hinata was enflamed by light. A beacon for all members of the Hyuga clan, she fought in hand-to-hand combat with a jinchūriki.
Laughing with a sadistic cackle, a third tail bubbled from Jūgo's lower back, slick and slimy. Resembling a pus-coated maw of wet sludge, each limb swayed in synch, dripping white ooze.
On all sides, these embroiled opponents were surrounded by the smoldering ruins of Kusa. Fighting for their own place, their own right and their own realization, both were stalwart.
Reaching a battle beyond Ino's level, and the Kusa ninja that accompanied her, Hinata stood. For so long, she always felt isolated by her emotions, stuck in a rut, unable to move on.
Naruto's desertion from Konoha carried specific effects upon each person he once called friend. Hinata was no exception, an outcast and timid burden frequently tossed aside by her father.
Now, at the height of conflict, she found her true purpose and reason to fight and survive. To show her father, and the whole Hyuga clan that she was a princess deserving of the title.
Stranded and desolated, that didn't hinder the fiery will inside of her, a bright Will of Fire. Losing Kiba and Shikamaru, Choji and Naruto, this was her moment, the time to grow strong.
This vibrant desire was matched only by Jūgo's fanatic and endless loyalty to Naruto. Halfway transformed, congealed in boiled pus and bubbling white slime with three tails, he laughed.
