He awoke with a start, gasping like he had been submerged in icy water and had only just broken the surface. He took several gulping shallow breaths before calming himself.
He realised he was not in the house he'd fought in any longer. His cloak and equipment were missing. His underclothes were the same, and only now did the smell reach him. Sweat and vomit. Well, he'd smelt worse. One of the kills had required going in through a sewer main for a little bit.
The room, which now came into focus for his regular eye, was familiar. It was dark, but familiar.
He ran his hand over the walls. Smooth cement walls under his finger tips. He didn't bother to activate his Byakugan. It was already giving him a headache through overuse. He winced as he saw a little more light.
He rose gently and traced a finger around the walls, his feet falling into an easy rhythm as he measured the room.
Seven paces each way, and a smooth door with an inner lock.
This was his Root cell. Someone must have brought him in. His cell. An offhand check of the blueprints in what seemed like another time had found it to be number 526, level 3, meditation designation cell. Utterly regular, utterly uniform. A cell like the other Root operative home cells.
He still knew the corridors of this place.
He pushed the door open gently and looked up and down the dark corridor. A couple of figures were walking along behind their masks in the standard Root uniform. He didn't recognise them, but that was nothing new. They didn't try to talk to him, he didn't talk to them.
He walked the slightly odd route to where he thought the answers would lie. He knocked on the door and it was opened by one of the few Root shinobi he actually knew.
Torune was one of Danzo's specialists. A really killer, and a thinker as well. As close to a second in command as he had alongside Fu.
"Ah, welcome back Naruto."
He knelt before the figure seated in the dark behind the desk.
"Lord."
Danzo beckoned for him to stand, he did so. Torune had faded into the background of the room with the speed expected of a Root shinobi. Pragmatism was everything. If you held no part in a conversation you were quiet and you listened. The information would be potentially useful.
"The Hokage was killed by Orochimaru, but managed to seal his arms. His instructions to me, were he to die, was that you would be judged by the new Hokage, and they would decide what to do with you.
Unfortunately, the next Hokage has not yet been appointed, and is unlikely to be appointed for at least another month or two.
If you desire, I would happily send you on a couple of missions that need to be undertaken at this time. Or you can choose to spend the time training."
"Hai."
"Your equipment is currently being held in the armoury. I can also recommend you get cleaned up, do not fall to illness. That would be a poor way to die."
"Hai."
"Come back if you want to. You are the finest killer in the Root. You are always needed here, do not waste away if the new Hokage is weak."
He left, walking the twisting corridors to the armoury. He pushed open the door and observed the Root armoury once again.
Racks of kunai. Crates of shuriken. Wax wrapped exploding tags. Tanto blades sheathed in an oil bath that gurgled gently. The room was frankly an alter to death and killing. Gleaming metal kept ready for issue
Naruto walked past the standard equipment and moved towards the more specialist areas.
Longer blades, staves, retractable halberd blades. Long-swords in matte-black scabbards. Maces. He saw a longbow with its flat quiver, hanging from a wall. He wondered how life would have changed if it had been that weapon he had taken up. Such a weapon was beautiful, yet he missed his crossbow.
He moved through further to the workman's shop. He didn't know the man's name, but this was Root. And the man knew what stuff everyone needed. He had made the crossbow in the first place.
He knocked on the door, feeling the heat from the forge within. He felt himself start to sweat, but didn't care, reassured his body was taking steps to remain healthy.
The man, turned. Most of his face was obscured by a mask, and his hands were encased in thick, soot charred gloves. He lifted the mask to look at Naruto.
"Crate 12 in the storage room. Then report for sign-out."
He moved into the storage room and lifted crate twelve down from its shelf, opening it with care.
On top was a new body glove, and Naruto changed into it with some satisfaction. He looked at the one he had been wearing.
It was torn in several places, no doubt from shrapnel sent by wind jutsu from the girl, and a slash from the Suna nin's katana. He checked his chest where one large slash was and realised he had a flesh would across a small part of his stomach. The adrenaline had masked the pain.
He discarded the old glove and continued to check the box.
Then he drew the sheathed tanto out of the box. He checked the blade. It had been reground and re-polished, and an even sharper edge had been put on the blade. It was perfect. He slung it over his back, crossing it with a bandolier of crossbow bolts.
There were a couple of pouches with the usual equipment. Smoke bombs, tags, wire, all the tools he would need. There was the scroll with his poison kit as well. That was useful.
He then picked up his crossbow reverentially and weighed it carefully in his hands. He held it gently, caressing the stock with a lovers care, feeling every inch of his weapon. It was his. This bow had brought him nearly every kill, every moment of waiting. His companion. His.
He checked the mechanisms. The arms had been replaced, old metal replaced with new, painted matte-black. The string was fresh, the slide for the bolts well greased, the loading notch still there.
It had been masterfully repaired, back to full function, but without the user's own quirks being totally removed. Even Root nin had some personal things, brought about by the immutable fact human's all worked slightly differently when it came to physical movement. The kinematics of the bow were his and his alone.
He checked the loading mechanism again. That had changed. There was a thin wire running from the trigger grip to the slide. He place the crossbow gently back down to one side.
He pulled the cloak out of the box. It had been cleaned and repaired. He draped it over his shoulders and pulled it around his chest, doing up the clasp around his neck. He pulled the hood back up over his head and felt complete again. He slipped the crossbow over his back and waited a few seconds as he regained his balance for the equipment. It barely took any time, this was more natural to him than being naked. He was ready.
He moved back into the smithy. The man was waiting.
"Crossbow please."
He passed it to the man like a mother handing someone their child.
"I've modified the bow. The original still used a draw handle to pull back the string. That meant you had to drag it back between shots. Even for someone of your proficiency, that meant your fire rate was limited to twenty or so shots per minute.
I've installed an electromagnet in the load mechanism. When you pull the trigger, the magnet deactivates, allowing the string to snap forwards to fire the bolt. When the trigger is at idle, the magnet draws the slide and the string back instantly. Your fire rate now depends on how fast you can feed bolts to the mechanism.
I'd have attached the auto feeder, but it's bulky and not suited for your missions.
When you learn elemental manipulation, the wire controlling the electromagnet will also allow you to feed chakra into your bolts as soon as you learn how."
He passed the bow back to Naruto and indicated a target.
"The sights are aligned. Thirty seconds continuous firing please."
Naruto's hand took a bolt from the bandolier, pulling it round so the next bolt was ready to be drawn. He swiftly had it into the fire mechanism and he pulled the trigger, hand already moving for the next bolt.
The next thirty seconds were a blur, the sound of repeated thunks and the bolts slammed into the target. The bullseye became too full to hold any more bolts and he merely aimed to fill the next circle outwards.
Naruto ceased firing.
"Twenty seven shots in thirty seconds, as you can see, efficiency has increased by a good margin. The shots are also slightly more powerful."
Instruction done, the man went back to work, leaving Naruto alone again.
For some reason this made him re-evaluate for a brief moment. Anko-chan or Baka would have said something more here. Talon would have tried to make a joke, the former Hokage would have said something too.
It was less efficient, the goodbye statement rarely being anything of value, but there was something about it. Something he enjoyed.
He left, restocking his ammunition as he went. He walked the corridors, and left the hidden base.
A half hour later, he was home. Again. One of his homes. He wasn't entirely sure which home was home and which home was not home.
He was about to enter through the window when he noticed it was slightly more open than usual. He activated the Byakugan, ignoring the spike of pain that slammed home from the overuse.
Someone was inside. He recognised the signature. He drew the tanto blade.
He went in through the window, rolled, and came up with the blade at the man's knee.
"Careful Naruto, you could hurt someone with that."
"Kakashi-san. Why are you in my apartment?"
"I needed to thank you."
"Why?"
Kakashi scratched the back of his head.
"Can we sit down? This is a bit awkward for me."
Naruto nodded, then realised that the gesture was lost under the hood. He pulled it back and repeated the gesture.
Kakashi sunk onto a chair, Naruto sat on the battered sofa. The way it softly gave way to him was enjoyable. It had been so long since he'd sat on something comfortable.
"You know, I kinda wish I was just training you as opposed to my current team."
"Why?"
"You're good. You get the idea about being a shinobi. I know what I would need to teach you because you know things already. Hell, given you had a run with Talon, I know I could make you better than I am."
"Thank you for the compliment Kakashi-san."
"Meh, it's true. You appreciate that much. But in the arena two days ago, you saved Sasuke's life."
"I did."
"You killed the biggest threat in the arena. We know what Gaara was, and you killed him quickly. You did given everyone quite a shock when he exploded like he did, but you killed him. Imagine if you hadn't then."
Naruto had already before the fight.
He'd foreseen Gaara fleeing with his team, the boy running away from the person who had injured him. Then he realised that Sasuke would pursue. Then that his team would as well.
He doubted any of them would survive an encounter with him, or that he would find a good opportunity until he could poison him in Suna or get a fortuitous shot.
Of course, that assumed his target hadn't gone nova in the stadium.
The permutations of any event other than the opportunistic kill he had gained in the stadium were. Worse. Definitely worse.
"The situation would have been far worse for Konoha."
"Yep. You most likely saved my team."
"They are fellow shinobi, it was my duty and my mission. The feeling of the kill feels hollow, like you and Hokage-sama talked about."
Kakashi nodded. He was never going to say it, but having to kill one of the only people in the world even remotely like him probably had to hurt.
"You wonder if you were like him don't you?"
"A little. He was a junchuuriki, and he didn't like talking to people. I don't hate it, but I can live without it. He had to. He wasn't sleeping and killed my clone without missing a beat. We are similar. I can tell he was made to be a weapon. To kill. I am a weapon. Killing is my purpose. But I have things he doesn't. I have more choice. My demon is locked away, and his felt so raw and close to the surface. I caught a small glimpse through my eye. I saw...the seal. Leaking. Raw chakra, brown and dirty ripping through his body. He must have been in constant pain. He was so like me."
Kakashi was stunned. Naruto was pouring out the insights in a flood, his voice slightly breaking from the monotone. He realised Naruto was shaking slightly as he spoke.
"He could have been better. He is what I could have been and also what I am but what I am not. And I killed him. I completed my mission, and yet it feels like I lost. I had to kill his sister, who hunted me during the battle. I killed her as she screamed for mercy because protecting Konoha is my goal. I killed her as she screamed."
Kakashi caught the boy as he fell forwards onto his knees. He felt the brief splat of a tear onto his shoulder from the boy's visible eye.
"Do you want anyone here Naruto?"
"Anko-chan."
Normally he would have told anyone who requested Anko at this time of night that they were out of their mind, but Naruto was already close to that description.
He summoned and dispatched Pakkun without delay.
Naruto just sat hunched, tears running from his visible eye. His covered eye was dry, and he held a hand over it, but making no other noise.
"It hurts doesn't it?"
"What?"
"Not being able to cry from your Byakugan. I have the same problem. It comes from the traumatic loss of an eye."
"So your loss was traumatic?"
"Very, I took a blow that would have killed my best friend."
"Is that how you face got scarred as well?"
"You're going to have to do better than that."
"That's not a no. The question still stands."
"You do realise that only two people know the reason. One of them is long dead, the other nobody would ever dare ask."
"So you don't cry from your Sharingan either?"
"No. It hurts though. You feel like it should be crying but it isn't?"
"Yes."
There was a whoosh as Anko rolled through the window.
"So this is Darkie-kun's place, not bad. Not bad at all. Never thought he'd be so bold as to invite you as well Kaka-oh."
She realised he was crying and her body language changed immediately.
"What happened?"
"I don't know. I shouldn't feel like this but it does. I had to kill her. I had to kill her."
"Kill who?"
"Her. Her face, I remember her face. Don't make me remember I don't want to remember."
"Whose face?"
"Hers!"
"Who else did you kill during the attack Naruto?"
"After Gaara, some idiot attackers. Then another man using a clone with an explosive tag. Then a girl. I think she was Gaara's sister."
His voice became shallow and hoarse. Hollow, as if he were speaking about some nightmare beyond his touch.
"She saw me kill him. She saw. She saw. She followed and I drew her into my battleground. She was angry. So angry. She was blind, I could see. I tried to make it clean but she wouldn't die cleanly. She screamed. I had to... I had to...I had to."
Anko held him as the boy let loose some of the tears he had never been able to shed. He definitely needed help.
Author's Note
This is how far I had written up to when I published the first chapter of Ghost, and it's probably worth sharing a couple of thoughts and things that are going on.
Firstly, sorry for another slightly angsty chapter, but events have consequences. He'll be up and assassinating fools again soon enough.
Secondly, thanks for the cheer number of reviews in the last chapter. I'm frankly astonished that I'm hitting the right notes with you guys, and the reviews mean a lot!
Another thing to note is how people have interpreted 'becoming more human' for Naruto. I won't go into details of all the reactions I've had, but I will say that Naruto is not suddenly going to transform to canon. It's going to be a slow and as subtle as I can make it, hopefully it won't jar from one state to another.
Finally, my life has taken an interesting twist and I'm basically having to make big choices about my future right now. It's nothing for anyone to worry about (don't review about this bit) but it may affect the amount I'm able to write. Currently I have another 45k words written (about 13-14 chapters worth) which is in the process of being spell checked and revised. I'll try to keep up with my writing, and if worst comes to worst I'll have to slow down the update rate. Shouldn't need to worry about this now.
Hope everyone continues to enjoy the story as it hits the end of what I mentally consider part one.