A/N: Introducing Mu vs. Hatake Suzume.


Chronicles of the White Fang

Chapter Three

-Mu of the Dust Release-


"After conflict ends, an alliance becomes squabble over spoils of war. The victor there becomes the new dominant power."

-Mu of the Dust Release


Mu.

One simple name, but it could turn the tide into a battlefield. Confidence that would be present would be replaced by fear, wariness, and rage.

There was reputation behind a name.

A name held power.

It was like seeing someone in a new light. However, in Sakumo's case, he saw the man in shadows. He was known to be the Iwagakure's Invisible Man; his infamous ability was to form three dimensional forms that disintegrated everything at a molecular level.

He was a frightening rumor that was said to have cut down Konohagakure's forces by half when using his kekkei genkai. And there he was, floating in mid-air, above a shinobi platoon of thirty. No. Not even the rumors of such a man went past his gossiping village.

Sakumo began to shake at the odds against them.

They were outnumbered two to thirty-one. No. Not even two.

His mother was the only one who could fight. Whereas he? All he could do was do a little bit of seals, throw a few straight kunai and stand above water.

Comparing himself to the skilled fighters, that slowly began to step away from the shadows, exposing hardened, emotionless eyes, was like comparing a prey to a predator.

His grip tightened around his mother, who had long since stopped shaking. She stood steadily with no emotion shadowing her expression, in front of a mini-army and an S-class shinobi.

His mother shifted from foot to foot, hand tightening around the handle of her sword.

Mu spoke, "I see that you've grown. What a fine kunoichi you have become, Suzume. My only regret after this battle, however, will be that I will not be fighting you at your best."

His eyes wandered and pierced Sakumo. The effect was enough to suffocate him. His mother shifted so that she protected him from the imposing Iwa-nin's view.

"But seeing a rogue of the leaf that caused us great loss during this war when on active duty cannot be ignored, no matter your slight. . . disadvantage." He brought his hands together, and his mother stiffened, her legs spread slightly, ready to jump back at a moment's notice. "War is never fair." His voice carried.

A flash of white blinded his vision, and Sakumo quickly shut his eyes to block it away. Once his vision came back, he cracked his eyelids open. Where were the Iwa-nin? Where was Mu? It was as if one moment, they were there, and the next they were gone.

"M-Mom?"

"I can't fight a platoon with you around. No. We will run."

It was as if his surroundings zoomed in on them, but no. Sakumo observed his mother's speed. She was. . . the one who wa moving fast, closing in on her surroundings at a speed that he had a hard time comprehending. It was as if she was flickering across the terrain putting space between them and the Iwa-nin.

She was already sprinting down the muddy terrain, straight towards the forest. However, as dust began to unnaturally surround them, Sakumo understood that running away would not be an option.

"Shindoryuudan no Jutsu," Sakumo managed to hear within the war cries behind them. A loud screeching followed. The earth rumbled, and his mother jumped up to dodge the crack of the ground below them just in time.

"Mom!" He cried out as a large head of what looked like a dragon shot out of the ground. It was made of rock and stone, with wings that batted the wind, creating whirlpools all around them.

The dragon's fearsome jaws opened and suddenly it roared. It flew towards them at an amazing speed, but his mother proved once again that she wasn't an average kunoichi.

She did that body flicker again out of the area, without making hand signs, right as the dragon began to explode in wisps of fire and smoke. The explosion rocked the earth once more, and it created a crater where they once were. His heartbeat quaked and rattled at the sight of such a force.

He was frozen, body locked to his mother for safety. All he could do was watch on in fear, unable to even move due to the dread of dying. Whereas his mother, his mother continued to fight on with a furious determination glinting in those storm grey eyes.

Shinobi sprang left and right, swords swiped and kunai were thrown, but his mother danced around, protecting her blind spot and managing to use their attacks to her advantage. At one point, she dodged three spiraling shuriken and swooped under a shinobi who had taken the deadly blow before attaching a few explosive tags to his back.

She then kicked him straight to an advancing foe in a fraction of a second. The tags lightened and consumed four shinobi into its explosion. At the same moment, his mother had taken the lives of two more with her sword.

However, no matter how powerful and quick his mother was, the fight had taken its tole on her. She had killed off almost thirty shinobi. As well as the ones that attacked their house, and the three on their way to the forest. She was running out of stamina, out of chakra, and her movements were more heavier and more predictable.

She charged a man with a punch filled with chakra and dipped at the waist to dodge a blow from the man in order to dig a kunai deep into his spine. She then kicked the man forward and used him as leverage in order to swipe down and stick another kunai deep into a kunoichi's neck.

Then her eyes shifted to the side, and a scream of protest erupted from her chest before she moved to block flying shuriken aimed for Sakumo's back with her own body.

She fell harshly onto her side, and Sakumo lost his grip on her, falling into a bloody pile of dead bodies that cushioned his fall.

She ripped a shuriken out of her thigh, and she groaned as blood seeped out. She then flung the chakra-coated weapon in Sakumo's direction, but it didn't pierce him. There was a thud behind him.

Sakumo turned.

His unblinking eyes observed the blood that sprayed from the iwa-nin's throat. The man gurgled, hand reaching out to grasp a fist full of hair. Sakumo cried out. He tried to pry the calloused hand off in fear that the man would hurt him, but there was no need to when he felt the man's weight being lifted off of him.

He reached out, believing it was his mother, who came to save him, but he halted fast when bandages met his vision.

"No!" Yelled his mother. Mu gripped his hair, and he lifted him off of the pile of bodies. "Don't touch him!" His mother screamed, crawling forward, uncaring of the open wounds that created a trail of blood in her wake. "Don't you dare touch him."

Sakumo reached up and grasped the wrist of Mu's with his smaller hands rather weakly.

Violet irises gazed at him, void of emotions. "Reality is a cruel thing, don't you think?" Mu calmly spoke. "When we are supposed to protect such innocence with these abilities, instead, we are trained to kill them, kill any of them in order to spite those who side with the leaf."

With his other hand, Mu drove his kunai forward. It dug deeply into Sakumo's stomach. He did not feel pain. Not at first. First, was a numbness; in its wake, a lapse of comprehension in his mind.

He couldn't believe what his eyes saw. A sort of denial. If only for a millisecond.

Then the signals of warning from his mind to his wound began to transcend. He felt pain. He felt the warning as if it was as clear as spoken words, you will die if you do not act! Here, where you feel the most, is where the problem is!

He understood and from the screaming of his mother, she understood as well. The bandaged hand pulled the weapon out, and Sakumo felt his grip loosen on the man's wrist. Suddenly, like a ragged doll, he was flung back, and it wasn't until he felt arms encircle around him roughly when Sakumo acknowledged he was back in the safe embrace of his mother.

She put pressure on his wound, but he could see, his blood seeping through the gaps of her fingers. It stained his clothes, pooling underneath and staining his mother's clothes too. It hurt.

The pain, however, began to fade. It was a cool sensation passing through him. He shivered. The pain, it was numb now.

He doubted that was good.

"I'm not as cruel as you may think." Mu lifted his arms again, the first spark of emotion within his violet gaze. "This is my respect for you, in saving you both the pain that the future will bring. Unlike me," he whispered, as he brought his hands together. "at least you will die together, with your son."

"No," his mother weakly began. Her trembling hand shook above him, cradling him ever so carefully despite the losing strength within her. Her wheezing gasps for air were short as she pulled back her sleeve, revealing a small but complex seal that was tattooed to her skin. Sakumo's swimming vision focused on the seal for a moment.

"My son will l-live," she wheezed. Sakumo's fading vision looked up to see blood seeping out of her curved lips. A smile. His heart warmed at the sight. "N-No matter what, he will live!" Her shaking fingers hovered over the seal, and he could practically see the last bits of her chakra seep into the seal, activating it.

Like a hungry wolf, the seal ate away at her chakra until there was nothing left.

HIs mother's hands fell limply on his lap.

Her breathing stopped.

Sakumo closed his eyes ready to feel everything and nothing at the same time. His breaths became distorted, the pain in his stomach unbearable. It would be fine. No matter how much he despised and feared Mu, he was grateful for one thing: he would be with his mom.

He would die with her.

"It can't be. . ." The man before him breathed out.

Anxiety ate away at his insides by the sudden fear that crept up the bandaged man's tone. Sakumo's eyes cracked open. The silence after Mu's words of disbelief were unbearable.

When darkness subsided, his vision took in his surroundings; the black seal on his mother's wrist fading, the blood that marked her death within the earth, the black, unfamiliar shinobi sandals that stood upon it, and as he observed it all, Sakumo feared if Mu changed his mind.

The black shinobi sandals didn't belong to Mu, however.

Sakumo did not see the man who killed his mother. He did not see those calm, passive violet eyes. The bandaged, infamous Iwa-nin splattered in blood. The one whose burnt skin peeked through the worn out bandages with tears and rips.

Sakumo saw something else.

He saw battle armor tinged in an ocean blue hue. It was worn and stained with dried blood; the cracks of chipped paint along that plated shoulder blades showed its seasoned use. He recognized this armor.

It was made before Sakumo's time. Only veterans of the Warring States Period wore such armor. Something born and honed by constant battle. It spoke of experience.

Sakumo saw the white lining of fur that wrapped around the neck guard. It complimented the man's stark silver hair that swayed like grass on a stormy day.

He saw the shinobi slowly straighten from his crouched position. His body tense and ready to strike. Then, there was a shift. Sakumo froze when the man turned. His vermilion irises glared.

Even more so, as the air shifted and lashed when those eyes gazed at his mother, who continued to cradle him in her arms even in death.

Say something, Sakumo's thoughts urged. He opened his mouth, but nothing but blood was coughed out as Sakumo tried to ask who the man was.

The white-haired man closed his eyes for one second. "I see. . ."

Too fast for the eye to follow, the white-haired man threw a kunai. At first, Sakumo wondered what the man thought to do when Mu simply shifted his head to the side to avoid the obvious flying projectile.

However, all doubt disappeared when the white-haired man vanished in mid stride. Sakumo looked up and found the man behind Mu. He grabbed the kunai in mid-air and slammed it deep into Mu's spine.

Mu's movement was thrown forward by the impact, barreling straight towards Sakumo and his mother.

Sakumo only watched as Mu came flying towards him. His hand shakily moved over the wound on his stomach. He was still bleeding, but he couldn't feel it.

The white-haired man appeared before them again, right above Mu, who was still in mid air.

The kunai. There must be a seal on it, like the one on his mother's wrist. It was dug deep into Mu's spine, and suddenly, the white-haired man's legs shot out, slamming Mu straight into the ground, creating a crater that shook and unbalanced Sakumo.

Grey eyes watched as the white-haired man lifted a fist and punched it straight through Mu's chest, creating a mess of blood and shattered bones. No matter how gruesome, Sakumo couldn't look away. This was the man who killed his mother. . . the man who ripped away the only one he loved, the only one he cared for.

"Don't be a fool, Nidaime Hokage-sama, it is unbecoming of you." Vermilion eyes shot up to see the same man whose chest had been blown off, now floating above them, unharmed. "This isn't the first time we fought," Mu chided.

N-Nidaime Hokage? As in the Second Hokage of Konohagakure no Sato? How. . . How was it possible that his mother was able to summon a kage-leveled shinobi?

The white-haired man slowly stood, eyes casting over the empty spot where he had just crushed the man to bits. He didn't seem surprised. Unlike Sakumo, who probably had a million questions written all over his face, the Nidaime Hokage merely took the change of situation with stride.

"The ability to split yourself has always been troublesome," the Nidaime's voice was a low timbre. It was void of all emotion except for mild annoyance.

As if he had better things to do, as if dealing with Mu was merely a pesky situation rather than something life or death threatening, as if. . . As if finding himself being summoned was a burden.

"Hm? Your chakra seems disturbed," Mu spoke calmly.

The ease in both their postures made it seem like dealing with S-Ranked opponents was a daily occurrence.

"You should not let her death be responsible for your own." Violet eyes flickered and met Sakumo's gaze. "Or your son's death either." Suddenly, there was a blast of white. As fast as noise and as fast as light.

This was it. Mu was finally fulfilling his promise. However, just before the incinerating light could touch him, his vision was obscured by a shadow and red irises.

He felt the Nidaime's arm wrap around his torso. The other cradled his head. As much as the embrace was gentle, the separation from his mother's limp arms was harsh. Cruel.

"No!" Sakumo reached for his mother, but he was too late. The pulling sensation tugged. It was as if he was one of his scrolls with the way he was being sucked in.

Everything around him became brand new.

Different surroundings with Mu no longer around.

They were no longer in the battlefield with all those dead Iwa-nin and Mu. They were in a new place. The birds chirped, the dense trees swayed, and the light crept through the thick evergreen canopies above; it was peaceful.

So cruelly peaceful.

It was as if his perspective of the world didn't change. It was as if everything was fine, filled in a naive light. He had once thought war could never touch something so beautiful.

He was painfully, guilelessly wrong.

HIs chest quaked. The numbness in his body couldn't prevent the awfulness in his chest. His body quaked, trying to let it out. Let it all out, and he did.

The happy aura around the camp of shinobi was destroyed as he sobbed. Wings flapped, and the birds that sang of a new tomorrow were abruptly interrupted because his sobs grew higher, louder. He couldn't breathe. His throat clogged and blood dripped from his mouth and nose. The crude taste of iron overwhelmed his senses.

He felt pressure on his stomach, and he gazed up. Through the haze of his darkening vision, he could see vermillion irises and silver hair that appeared like a mane with the fur that lined around his neck.

The Nidaime Hokage. Many pairs of eyes were captured. He was cradled gently against the white-haired man's chest, carried through the crowd as he continued with his heart wrenching cries.

"Hokage-sama, where did you go?" Voices erupted with worry, surprise, and annoyance.

"I need a medic," the Nidaime ordered. "Now." He continued his stride, ignoring all those who surrounded the Nidaime and Sakumo.

"Who's the kid?"

"Is he okay?"

"Shut him up already. There's still Suna-nin around!"

"Why don't you shut the fuck up Danzo?" Another voice growled, but there was no hostility within it: only playfulness. "That will do us all a favor."

"Oh god, he's bleeding!"

"Poor kid. . ."

Voices rang out all around him as Sakumo struggled to breathe in the man's arms. He was held down. Those vermilion eyes were on him again. This time, they didn't look so cold. Something in the Nidaime's expression had him calming down.

Perhaps, the man wasn't so cold.

"That is enough." The Nidaime's voice was calm, but as darkness consumed Sakumo, he couldn't help but to think about the raging storm held beneath that tone.


REVISED: 10/23/2017