Chapter 8: In Search of an Answer
"Progress is what happens when impossibility yields to necessity."
-Arnold H. Glasow
/Hoseki City, Capital
/The Land of Fire
Gekko Hayate
Three weeks of searching high and low throughout the frigid tundra of Iron Country led Hayate to nothing. He dare not venture into Sekiro City for fear of a clash with the remnants of whoever won that terrible battle. No information was coming out of there just yet, not even from the Hokage's minions, but he strongly suspected that little Naruto wasn't anywhere in Iron now anyway.
Which was why he found himself in Hoseki City.
Hayate had always found Konohagakure to be the most beautiful city he'd ever seen; with rolling forests, rivers aplenty, and architecture found nowhere else in the known world. It was a wooden city sprung out of thin air by the founder of Konohagakure, the Shodaime Hokage. Hashirama Senju had not only created a city that sprawled with enough space for so many of the Founding Clans, but also utilized space in the upward dimension, revolutionizing the architecture of every city as they knew it. Kumogakure, Amegakure, Tsuchikagure; all of the major shinobi cities now emulated Konoha. Hoseki City, the center of political power for Fire Country, was only now catching on to Hashirama's genius.
Now being the last fifty years.
Instead of impossibly-strong wooden buildings, Hoseki City used steel and concrete, relatively new, to build vertically as well as spread like weeds in every direction. The walls were perhaps thirty feet high, twenty-foot thick, and almost a hundred miles in a sprawling circle, and the claim was that it had never been breached by a foreign army.
The walls sparkled white in the sun, a dazzling feature that was surely intentional given the rolling hills surrounding the jewel of Fire Country were empty of trees for twenty miles. Some said you could see Hoseki sparkling from a hundred miles away. The capital city of Fire Country was certainly massive enough, home to more than ten million people. Hard to believe that many people existed at all, let alone in one place.
Hard to believe that many people live here all squished together.
Despite that, Hayate was proud of his country and he could hardly criticize the cramped quarters given that Konohagakure had almost as many people, if not concentrated all in the city proper. Villages had sprung up like fleas on the back of a dog, all centered around Konohagakure proper. Here, it was much the same.
The walls loomed on either side of him now, guarded by a small legion of men in orange breastplates and garbed with the insignia of the Fire Daimyo; two crossed swords against a fiery background with some type of eagle-bird-thing proudly prominent.
A phoenix, I think.
If he recalled correctly, it was a mythical fire-aligned bird with rejuvenating properties who embarrassed and stymied the Shinigami on a regular basis in the stories.
Suitably arrogant lineage for a Daimyo to claim.
Hayate nodded to the captain and streamed into the city alongside the mass of normal traffic. For his task today, he simply wanted to find lodging before mapping out his next move. Luckily for him, the original architects of Hoseki City made the city unnecessarily large, circular and organized according to purpose, not time built. Residential districts separated from commercial were separated from the military barracks. Hoseki was more a city-state than just a city, crisscrossed by canals, it even had its own industrial farms outside the city proper, though those, from what he'd heard, were newly-built and didn't quite fit in with everything else here.
The market district was a cacophony of noise and smells and sheer humanity all bargaining and browsing and in each other's way. Hayate did his best not to bump into anyone, maneuvering his weapon expertly too, as he kept walking through the tsunami of people.
People of all shapes and sizes stuck out; aristocracy, the ruling elite dressed in silks and fur to account for the coldness of the admittedly mild winter, everyone else wearing some garish plain cotton version of what the elite was wearing.
Fashion, not wealth, trickled down here.
Hayate did stick out, given that he was dressed like a Konoha shinobi; two-handed sword hilt poking up over his shoulder, in sandals despite the temperature, his blue pants, shirt, and flak vest completing the look of a standard Jonin. The only nod to his real position was that he still had his mask on as that was his ticket into places shinobi were normally not allowed access to; a Daimyo's palace, for instance. Here, he was the Blade of the Hokage and that symbol on his mask was his signature.
Though his authority stopped well-short of the Daimyo or ordering around the Guardians.
Eyes open, scanning for what he knew Naruto looked like, though not really hoping for any kind of success, he wove his wave through the city, periodically checking for pursuit. His aim was an Inn he'd frequented during his tokubetsu days called The Howling Dog. Though, he'd never actually stayed there. He periodically received information from the proprietor, Gerrild, who was an enormous ex-shinobi who made it to Genin before realizing he wanted nothing to do with killing people and everything to do with delicious food. One could be forgiven for thinking he was an Akimichi. He wasn't.
He was an honest man and an even better friend.
Two rights and a left past Shonjun Canal saw him in a somewhat clean street named Rose Avenue, though it had exactly zero roses nor did it smell as if it had ever had roses present, and the swinging sign over the massive door in front of a five-story building of stone and glass clearly showed what was supposed to be a dog or a wolf of some sort with its over-sized testicles prominently trapped in a fence, howling for all it was worth, little wavy lines coming off it to represent the no-doubt atrocious sound.
The Howling Dog.
This was the name of his Inn?
Oh. Oh. For the love of…!
Hayate gaped at it.
Are you joking?
"What in the seven pits of Yomi is this kami-forsaken place? What was Gerrild thinking?"
People paid to eat and sleep here?
Hayate had never actually been to The Howling Dog and he was starting to think maybe he should go find another reputable inn, good friend or no. Standing there, watching people pass by, he counted seven rather rough-and-tumble workers stumbling out of the inn. It looked bright, warm, and quite a lot of fun for a rougher sort of crowd. Perfect for a high-ranking shinobi to find shelter from prying eyes. He could name a dozen of his fellow Jonin who would have spent every waking moment not running mission cooped up in this place with a warm mug of ale.
Hayate checked the position of the sun.
Barely passed noon. Ehhh.
It was a struggle not to roll his eyes.
He let out a sigh. Hayate was glad he'd never be able to tell Yugao this story, given that where he was and what he was doing was classified. She'd be so disappointed. But Hayate shrugged and shoved his way into The Howling Dog and let the raucous music and conversation roll over him like a wave.
The place was spacious and warm and best of all, clean. Not always the case with places like this. The Jonin waded through the serving girls and general chaos of men and women letting off steam to the enormous man subtly watching him from the shadows of the back stairs. Hayate took his mask off and attached it to his belt. The suspicious looks melted into a grin. Gerrild's welcoming smile was wall-to-wall. They hugged when Hayate made it into the alcove.
"Been a long time Hayate, 'bout damn time you came to The Howling Dog! Best inn and food in the city!"
Gerrild frowned at him, then smiled.
"Not coughing I see! You look damn good Gekko, you stuck-up bastard!" An enormous hand thumped him on the back. A couple of years ago, that would've set him to a coughing seizure fit to launch his lungs out of his body. Hayate couldn't help but grin back at that. The other comment, being called 'stuck-up,' for having a moral compass was rich.
"There are some perks to the greatest medical ninja in the world putting down roots again in Konohagakure, Gerrild. The Hokage practically ordered Tsunade to have me as a priority patient."
Gerrild frowned. Hayate rolled his eyes.
"Lady Mikoto is one of the greatest people I know. Please don't believe the rumors. I…"
He lowered his voice. They were still in a public place, despite the relative safety of being in Hoseki.
"I know her, now. I've been her bodyguard for, oh, two years now? Gerrild, she wants those traitors dead more than most. I'd even say more than anyone. She's got a Will of Fire that burns stronger than even old Sarutobi."
Hayate shivered, peering into a distance at something only he could see. Something that frightened him, perhaps?
Gerrild noticed and said nothing.
The fat innkeeper rubbed his chins, face smoothing.
"I've never known you to exaggerate. The exact opposite, in fact, so I'll take you at your word. But we can catch up later and talk a bit more. What brings you here? In-person, no less? Business?"
A quick look around first, then he mobilized his chakra into fine strands. Spreading his hands like he was playing Cat's Cradle with silk webs, Hayate spun a genjutsu finer than the finest thread, chakra humming quietly in his chakra coils. A portrait that looked like a master artisan had sculpted Naruto out of clay and rose up in between his fingers for Gerrild, but no one else, to see. Fine features of a young man with shaggy blonde hair, violet eyes like the purple dye Daimyo used for their clothing, complete with faint whisker marks and longer-than-normal canines.
"This looks a wild child and mischievous for sure. Trouble, or I'd eat my old boot. Good or bad trouble is the question."
Hayate thought about what he should tell Gerrild. Definitely not the truth, even though he didn't know the full story there, not really, but the orders were telling enough. Important was an understatement; this hunt was more important than anything else he'd ever done in his career, according to the Hokage.
Gerrild was an honest man, so he'd be as honest as he could.
"I'm looking to locate this child for the Hokage. He's a person of great interest to her, but I need someone smart, capable, and honest to do some digging. I know you have connections and you're always my first stop. Any information will be paid for triple normal commission."
Gerrild sounded like the dog on his sign.
"Triple?"
Hayate nodded.
"Some interest indeed."
Gerrild was quiet, looking around the room. There was a large woman, stout with muscle, not fat, watching the serving girls work, a large spoon clutched in one hand. That spoon looked like it wasn't to be used for anything as pedestrian as stirring. Gerrild nudged his head towards a dark hallway in the alcove that Hayate hadn't seen at first. He followed Gerrild through it into a library of sorts.
Wall-to-wall shelving, a warm hearth, and lovingly used reading chairs made Hayate instantly fall in love with it. He'd recently been meaning to finish the Travels of Derring Redmane and hadn't had the chance now that this mission had come up. Yugao was probably stealing his reading chair and his book both.
Gerrild continued speaking, obviously troubled, unaware of Hayate's wildly off-track thoughts.
"Children who are alone would be stopped at the gates. There is zero chance he made it in here by himself, unless he went through the sewers, or swam in from the canal openings. Those are open air, run through most of the city, but the ferry boat operators, not to mention the regular patrols of Peace Officers and the Royal Guard, would have caught anyone coming in that way."
Gerrild melted into a large chair that seemed tailor made for him, gesturing to a chair opposite him. Between them, off to the side was an ornate stone table with worked black and white squares, pieces set up for a game of Shogi.
"I say this to you to illustrate how difficult, almost impossible really, this task is going to be. The Department of Children's Welfare operates seven state-run orphanages at the Daimyo's command. His wife is a big proponent of money being spent to ensure none are on the streets. Any child who is found without a guardian or records of one in the DCW is fed into those seven places."
So Naruto could be in any one of those seven places; that is, if he even came into this metropolis of almost ten million people in a straightforward way. A needle in a haystack made of needles. Hayate tried not to let the creeping frustration get to him and with some effort, pushed it under and let his desire not to let down his leader subsume him. This was important.
So what was his next step?
There had been zero tracks from anywhere around Sekiro City and there really wouldn't be given the amount of snow coming down this time of year. So no real way to track anyone out of there on foot, let alone mounted. Naruto could be dead for all he knew, but he couldn't give up. The best thing to do was to assume that the kid headed for Konohagakure and was swept up into the system in Hoseki. Logically, he had to know how to navigate given who his guardian had been and any would-be child in a city like Iron, even one not even tested yet, knew enough star navigation to make their way to Konohagakure using main roads. The path was almost a straight southward direction along highways and roads from Sekiro, to Hoseki, to Konoha.
Could Naruto have gone around?
No, that was unlikely given how little provisions he probably had. Living off the land was difficult for children with no practical experience and experience was hard to have in a self-contained place like Iron Country. Underground, reliant on trade for all your needs; no, that was not a place they'd teach their kids to forage off the land.
So it had to be Hoseki City, making detours to other countries would be counterproductive and his only real link to anyone outside Iron was Konoha itself. Gerrild had waited while Hayate thought through his options; inevitably, the conclusion dawned that there were less savory options than state-run facilities.
"Is it possible he got snatched up or ran afoul of the Yakuza?"
Gerrild frowned in consideration, wrinkles appearing like fine lines on his forehead. The Yakuza were a well-known and well-funded operation that ran amuck through the aristocracy in Fire Country and abroad. The saying went that the Daimyo (in any country) had two pillars of support; the people and the Yakuza Oyabun. Where one went, the other followed. The most famous Oyabun, or 'boss', in Fire Country was Sukumu Gato, of the multi-billion ryo Gato Corporation. Strange rumors abound about that man and what went on in his company. Unsavory things.
"I've heard some… less than pleasant things about Shizumi Mansion and Shin Toruku as well as Gato Corporation. It's hard not to hear things about the Guttermaster or the… games...he runs and Gato is in everything from weapons to textiles. Patrons like to come in and discuss fights after big ones on weekends; I have no opposition to them just talking, mind you and it gives me an ear to the ground that I don't mind having. As for Gato..."
Gerrild heaved himself up and over to a sparsely stocked wet bar, pouring two thumbs worth of a brown liquid into two glasses. He held one out to Hayate. Alcohol of any sort was quickly taken care of by a simple chakra exercise when a shinobi had one too many, so he accepted, sipping.
"Well, Gato Corporation is one company you can't touch, no matter who is sending you on this mission. Gato has the ear of the Daimyo."
The brown liquid burned like the oni going down his throat. He struggled not to show his unfamiliarity with the strong brew on his face. Gerrild grinned at him like he knew already.
"Sometimes fights break out between supporters of Gutterknives; Seiryu and of Towering Nome, a legendary fighter from Old Lady Shell's in Tyrum Palace, Shin's main rival. Most of that sort of thing goes on over in the Flower Quarters. A rich man's game, some say. Shin is said to churn out the greatest fighters the world has ever seen."
Hayate couldn't help but roll his eyes.
They weren't shinobi so they couldn't be that great.
"The Daimyo himself is said to be a fan of Seiryu; this, of course, makes it problematic to outlaw the Gutter fights."
Gerrild continued, swallowing his drink in one audible gulp.
"Shin takes children as young as nine, though very seldom."
Hayate frowned at Gerrild and the man held up his hands.
"Don't look at me like that. Does the KSMA do much different? Don't be such a hypocrite."
The Konohagakure Shinobi Military Academy was different, but Hayate struggled to articulate to himself why. There had been graduates as young as eleven. That was a decision parents made though and most of the parents were shinobi and understood the life they were creating for their kids. The best shinobi were groomed young to become juggernauts of power by age fifteen. Hayate himself graduated at fourteen, the average age. Shinobi and those like them, born with soaring amounts of chakra that were dangerous unless trained properly, had to be given to the KSMA.
That was that; strange to hear an ex-shinobi arguing that point.
"Trained like caged animals to fight in some horrible ring for others amusement and one man's profit was very different than being a proud shinobi of the Leaf trained by the KSMA, Gerrild. You know that."
Gerrild shrugged, swirling his drink.
"I left the ranks of Leaf shinobi for more reasons than just that I wasn't good enough. Shinobi are tools, Hayate. I say that with no disrespect to you. I'm no one's plaything."
Hayate stared at Gerrild. He prayed to the Shinigami that Naruto wasn't in the very worst of places he could imagine. Hayate would tear that place apart to reach Naruto if that was the case, but the best he could do, for now, was to search the easiest places first. The Gutter, and all the Gutterknives of the Yakuza underground, was not a place to go in hot unless absolutely necessary, especially if the Daimyo was a patron of Shin Toruku's.
So the seven orphanages were first on his list.
"I know that look."
"What look?"
"That look that says you've made up your mind about something."
Hayate ignored Gerrild again and stood up.
"Thanks Gerrild. You're a good man, but you always struggled to understand the larger picture of shinobi affairs. Lady Uchiha is a very different Hokage than Sarutobi or Tobirama. Minato understood and so did Hashirama. A tool with a grand purpose might be a tool, but the outcome is worth any expense."
Gerrild stifled a startled laugh.
"I always did think you were too naive to make Jonin properly or survive past thirty. But somehow…" Gerrild gestured with one enormous hand. "You made it."
Hayate fingered his sword absently.
"The Hokage saw in me what I saw in her. Like recognizes like."
"And what, pray tell, is that?"
Hayate bowed to Gerrild, sliding his drink across the table and moving the white piece in Go forward one diagonal move, smiling faintly.
"The best way to beat a system that always cheats is to stop playing the game."
Hayate straightened up from his formal bow.
"Thanks for everything Gerrild. I'll take your best room."
"My best room? When did you become a high-roller?"
"When I started working for the Hokage."
Hayate grinned.
He had a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it. Time may have been running out for both him and the boy.
Stay safe, Naruto.
/The Gutter, Shizumi Mansion
/Hoseki City
/Land of Fire
Naruto
Rolling his wrists and turning his body with the momentum, Naruto spun both blades in a tight whirling rotation of slashes, rounded blocks, and choreographed death. His opponent, the next ranked trainee above him, had only one advantage that Naruto knew of: free use of chakra to blast past him in speed and strength. Normally a colossal difference; the gulf between gods and men, and yet the question remained whether that would be enough to net him his goal: Naruto's death.
The Uzumaki's very life, and that of Kazan's, was now on the line.
The last two weeks of training had seen Naruto lose; a lot.
Dozens of opponents triumphed easily, overpowering him through sheer strength and speed, while Tanaka watched stone-faced. Naruto knew it was merely a matter of time before he 'disappeared' given his terrible underperformance. Chakra-usage had been introduced to all training and it was a bomb amongst the rankings. His hope lay in an unexpectedly two-sided conversation with Kazan that had born some fruit and today was the day he'd find out if he could move up just one slot with this addition to his arsenal, hopefully granting him and Kazan some measure of safety.
Forced, due to the unnecessary sling on his sword-arm a few weeks ago, Naruto had become proficient enough with a sword in his other hand that using a longsword in either hand felt… natural. Felt right. The first time he'd used two swords, he'd doubled the length of time he survived against stronger opponents than the one he was about to face. He hadn't won against Torin, or Ears, or the other trainees, but it hadn't been because of a lack of skill. Everything he'd been taught by Mifune, Yojimbra, and Taza clicked; all the lectures about kenjutsu, about theories of blocks and repostes, of zen and of battle tactics reserved for the incredibly quick style of iaijutsu the samurai lived and breathed, flowed into his own special blend of dual-bladed kenjutsu that fit him like a glove. Constant pressure applied to an opponent through measured use of many, many blades equalled success.
Well, relative success.
Skill only counted for so much when someone was almost a blur to your eye in a Reinforcement technique and struck with supernatural strength. Blows that he might have blocked before, now Naruto needed to gently redirect all that energy in deflection and if he failed to do so perfectly, his wrist would snap like a twig. Naruto became very, very good at two things: redirection of blows and healing from things he shouldn't.
Despite that, Naruto might as well be a baby battling a giant against Ears, let alone Torin. He'd practiced for hours at night while everyone else slept; he went without sleep and woke up even earlier than the others to spend time in the arena with weighted blades, not the light practice ones. Naruto had been startled when Tanaka showed up at the crack of dawn the next day after he did this; he'd almost stumbled and dropped his blades. He did his best to block out anything except the imaginary opponents he sped through. Neck, heart, liver, kidney, head. Dozens of imaginary dead opponents piled on top of each other as he spun himself and the blades through nimble hands and into attack patterns designed to fight against groups. Two blades, working independently and together to block and attack was an amazing feeling of power. Naruto laughed, remembering, as he moved in a moving cage of blurred wooden practice weapons.
A small crowd was gathering, trainees and trainers alike. Torin, first among them, along with Ears and his small, but getting larger, crew of hanger-ons. None of them liked Naruto for the simple fact that he was categorically better than all of them and they knew it, Ears as well, but their claim was that he refused to, in their minds, use chakra to even the odds on them. Like it was a deliberate choice to deny himself the advantage of extra strength and speed. It was a stubborn refusal to use an advantage that enraged them, lent them extra viciousness that Torin and Tanaka didn't stop.
In fact, after a week of constant, unpunished beatings by Ears and the other trainees, Tanaka started encouraging them. Naruto couldn't prove it and really what would he do if he could prove it? But his body was now always healing, always had welts in various color stages from the practice weapons. A kaleidoscope borne of a refusal to bend. Today, he was going to even the ground just a little bit by giving the lowest among them a taste of their own medicine.
Not Ears, like he really wanted, but an equally smug opponent.
The blades whirred to a stop pointing at his opponent, a sneering boy that was a head taller than Naruto and resembled nothing more than a dirty, stinking ferret; beady-eyes, lanky, Ratface paced back and forth like his hero.
It was the same boy that Naruto had questioned when he had first arrived three months ago. The boy who practically worshipped the ground 'Tanaka the Lion' walked on.
Ratface stepped close, hissing.
"I don't know what you said to Uruchi to make him leave ya alone, but I don't care. I'm gonna kill you here and now, in front of The Lion himself."
Ratface spit and the brown glob hit the dirt in front of where Naruto stood.
"Then I'm gonna take that big ol' retard you friends with and I'ma fuck him too, like I bet you do. Why else wouldcha let 'em hang around? Besides, everybody knows you two is lonely all there in your rooms by yourselves."
Naruto felt The Rage surge, like tidal patterns in the ocean, slamming against the banks of his self-control.
Who did this kid think he was?
Torin stepped up to where the two boys were staring each other down.
Naruto whispered, but it carried far enough.
"You aren't leaving this ring alive."
Ratface stared daggers.
Both of them stepped up and Ratface's single long knife crossed Naruto's twin weapons.
His heartbeat swelled in his ears; beat, beat, beat.
Naruto didn't hear the words spoken to start the bout as the blood pounded in his skull because Ratface was fast and eager with that over-sized dagger. Naruto ducked into a crouch, the first straight jab of that dagger blurring but obvious and swayed aside, swords down at his sides, waiting.
There was a pattern to most fighters, one simply had to watch and wait, which is what Naruto was doing as he continued to sway, by a hair each time, aside from vicious stabbing and swiping. Naruto felt one narrow miss as the dagger sheared through some of his hair as he tilted his head to the side to avoid the sharp point. The blonde had been given wooden practice weapons, but Ratface obviously had bare steel.
More incentives?
The Rage slammed at him to gut this worthless piece of shit who dared challenge them. But Naruto knew, as his heart rate rose and his breaths became closer together, that he would have only one shot at this. Avoiding blows was easy when his weapons weren't entangled in overt blocks. Despite how much faster the kid was and the tell-tale subtle feel chakra was hard to miss up close, this fight was fairly even.
Tanaka was staring, not at Ratface, but at Naruto. Torin looked like he ate something that disagreed with him. Naruto noticed that look from Tanaka, in between his weaving. Impressing Tanaka, as much as was even possible, was ultimately the goal with this bout. That would give him leeway to figure out the next solution to more difficult opponents.
Duck, spin, dodge; Ratface sped up, Naruto started narrowly chopping his blades in short blocks. Ratface's arms were pistons as he started mixing up the dagger work with heavy clenched fist blows that were starting to get closer and closer to connecting as Naruto strained himself to anticipate and avoid blows without committing to directly opposing his enemies strength.
He needed to do something, or else risk leaving here having not accomplished his goal of proving he had more to give, despite his handicap that they still didn't know about. This couldn't end with people believing this was an even fight that Naruto happened to win.
Naruto stopped backpedaling and went on the offensive.
Both blades, wooden though they were, slammed into the knife-blade and wrist of his opponent, sending the blade flying and Ratface cradling his wrist. Chakra would have reinforced the hand, it likely wasn't broken, but it still had to have hurt. Ratface lunged into a fully outstretched dive towards his weapon that saw him coming up in a spin, dagger at the ready. Naruto let him have it and didn't press his advantage, waiting for Ratface to come back to him, wary now.
Naruto had hesitated and realized that was a mistake.
Hit first and keep hitting until their down, Yojimbra had said.
He'd missed that opportunity here.
Naruto absolutely did not expect the quickness with which Ratface came at him. The boy was pissed and it showed in the cold lines of anger in his face and the sudden steadiness of hand behind the razor-edged knife. The dagger spun in mesmerizing lines through Ratfaces' hands. Naruto was suddenly reminded he shouldn't be playing with this kid. He'd been training just like Naruto, if not quite as hard.
Everything happened so quickly.
Ratface ducked a strike and grabbed Naruto's arm with one hand, directing his swords away from him. One blinding jab nailed the meat of his bicep, blood sprayed spinning him, a line of hot pain spreading, criss-crossing his body now. Three more cuts, vertical across his left breast, two flashing slices that mirrored themselves on each of his open thighs. A dozen cuts, small but deep, started to open up as Ratface sped up, obviously drawing deep on his well of chakra.
The Uzumaki staggered, bleeding, huge slashes in his clothing; the vest torn, holes showing in his baggy grey pants, his bare skin covered in a patchwork of gashes and a veil of blood. Naruto didn't have a chance to blink, or wonder how serious the wounds were, before the onslaught was over and a knife was speeding at his throat. Both swords came up, crossing in a scissoring motion that sent the dagger and fist gripping it in a skyward movement.
The momentum carried Ratface in close.
Pain, though Naruto was getting very used to pain, made him sluggish, thankfully, not sluggish enough to miss an opportunity though. Dropping the left blade and holding the knife captive with only the right one, he used his free hand to brace himself against Ratfaces neck while Naruto's knee crashed into the boys stomach in a whoof of explosive air, blood spraying out of Ratface's mouth. Naruto held the dagger still, trapping as he spun past, kicking out with his back leg in a textbook back kick that made Ratface let go of the remaining knife and fly onto his back, sending up a cloud of fine dirt.
Judging by the way Ratface levered himself up, flipping himself from his back to his feet in one smooth motion, the fight wasn't exactly over. The odds were still in Ratface's favor; one wrong move, one wrong piece of footwork, and the game was over. Naruto had a sneaking suspicion he couldn't heal fast enough to outpace severe blood loss or a missing head. He needed a decisive plan to overcome the protection chakra offered and fast. Nothing registered outside of the ring and the pinched features of the boy opposite him; not the jeers, not the blood trickling down his legs and arms and chest, not the sweat pouring down his forehead or the heat pouring off his body.
Just him and his opponent.
Life and death on the edge of a blade; just like Tanaka said it would be.
"Stop."
The one word brought everything; cheering, insults, exchanging of ryo, whispered consultations of potential winners, to a grinding halt.
Tanaka was whispering to Torin, Torin nodded and moved towards Ratface. Tanaka moved towards Naruto and he watched him coming with a vague kind of dread. This hasn't happened before, not in bouts for exhibition ranking. Tanaka never attended these informal bouts, let alone stopping them to alter them in any real way. Torin let them beat each other to a very specific point beyond which the iryounin would need to heal them.
Tanaka walked right past Naruto, stopping at the racks of weapons against the wall.
Steel weapons.
When he turned back to Naruto, whose breathing had evened somewhat, he had two mirrored steel longswords, slightly curved and heavier on one side. Naruto straightened, for some reason not wanting to show Tanaka how much he wanted to collapse, and held out the two wooden blades. Tanaka took them and slapped both leather-wrapped hilts of the real weapons into his palms, noticeably heavier than the wooden weapons. Naruto nodded and something, something that made him uncomfortable, passed between them. Permission, maybe?
Expectation?
His hand tightened on the hilts and he turned to watch Ratface square himself up, across from him speaking to Torin, in a crouch that resembled some skittering creature of the night. Naruto launched into a warm-up combination; swords mirror-bright blurs, blocking and stabbing independently.
Talking resumed around them, quiet this time, almost breathless.
Torin moved away and so did Tanaka.
Ratface sprinted at him and it caught Naruto flat-footed even though he was waiting for an aggressive opening move. The boy now had two knives that resembled nothing so much as shortswords, rather than the smaller dagger he previously held.
Ducking the first lightning-quick slashes, Naruto rolled his wrists, deflecting the second knife that scored a line across the steel of his right weapon, his left criss crossing and stabbing in riposte. He had to abort the whole movement because suddenly the weapons had disengaged and were darting at his thigh, where the artery lay under his skin. That would be a horrible way to go. Both his swords blocked, knuckles white with strain against Ratfaces strength. Naruto, footwork locked in step with Ratface, heaved and shoved his shoulder against the other boy, knocking him off-balance.
The only advantage, if it could really be called that, was knowing that if he gave this kid space, he was going to be torn apart by the gulf in speed. Shifting his feet and moving parallel to the boys back, Naruto tangled his weapons with his opponents to gain leverage and used his hip and arm to throw the boy. Naruto followed in an instant, sustaining several slashes to his arms despite his precautions. Ratface rolled as Naruto stabbed downward, knowing if he didn't, he was dead.
Ratface got back up into a fighting stance with a rolling back handspring.
I'm dead unless I do something, this fight is dragging out longer than I wanted and now it's showing my weakness more than his strength. I have steel… So let's end this!
Naruto lunged, blades leading, a snarl on his lips.
The Rage had him firmly in its grip.
Naruto hammered his blades over and over on Ratface. The boy was suddenly on the backfoot, snarl forgotten and desperation beginning to take hold as he blocked and parried for all he was worth. Nothing was going to stop him killing Ratface and securing him and Kaz's safety!
Nothing.
Chink. Chink. Chink.
Left and right blades came fast and furious, deflected by a hair each time; knives working overtime to keep Naruto's longer reach away from him. Ratface batted away one blade and Naruto went overbalance, pushed passed the boy opposite him, exposing his back to the murderous teenager. Bright, hot fire entered his lower back as Ratface took advantage of the mistake to punish it severely, ten inches of steel burrowing into something important; faint weakness pulsed through his body and his arm went numb.
Naruto ignored the blade buried in his back, the weakness too, and whipped around so fast he pulled the knife sticking out of his body out of his opponents hands, tearing something in his back and neck from whiplash. Ratface had time enough to look concerned before Naruto's three foot long blade carved a jagged furrow in a now thoroughly surprised Ratface's throat. Naruto watched, almost in slow motion as the skin and muscle over his esophagus parted like a jacket unzipping. A thick chunk of viscera blew out the side of his opponents neck. He followed the first blade with the second, tearing open the stomach lining and dropping organs out, flooding onto the sandy arena floor like a broken piggy bank spills money. Satisfaction competing with rage for dominance.
Naruto's fellow trainee, eyes glazed in death, looked terrified.
Every inch of this place was a struggle for survival, of one more day earned for life. Kazan was depending on him; revenge for the dead depended on him and only him!
The sheer unfairness of his life, the absurdity of the situation taking his breath away, sparking a snarl and Naruto felt his face contort with hatred for Ratface, for Tanaka, for En, for Orochimaru, for The Man in Red.
Naruto could picture his horrible face.
Hands moving on their own, he spun again, right hand sword and left taking the boys head in different levels; brains, bone, and even more blood blasting in all directions.
This fight was more than over.
Naruto plunged the blades into the corpse and left them there quivering.
Judging from the absolute silence; the outcome had been unexpected. To Naruto, there had been no other acceptable end.
Tanaka simply nodded, as if he'd expected it all along, and left through the largest of the exit doors to the Gutter floor. Torin was hard to read as he simply stared at Naruto like he'd never seen him before in his life. Ears, or Uruchi rather, oddly enough, had the same look on his face that he'd seen on Tanaka's.
Taking stock of his wounds, Naruto absentmindedly realized the knife was still sticking out of his back. He grabbed and yanked, doing his best to ignore the tearing sensation and the fresh wave of dizziness that made him list sideways until he stuck a hand out and braced himself against the nearest wall to keep himself from collapsing. Weakness wasn't a good look, especially not now. Only now did he realize the audience had started to filter away. They gave him a wide berth, even the trainers. Naruto had made exactly zero friends; today removed that possibility completely. Everyone was hyper-aware of the life and death nature of their training. Tanaka hand-picked the final group and there were no guarantees about what he was really looking for; yet, skill was the greatest factor, along with a certain flair or flashiness. Naruto had given some flash tonight, taking that blow and exhibiting a level of viciousness that thus far he hadn't displayed, minus that one incident with Ears. Kazan was involved in that.
Economical efficiency was best, most times.
Yet sometimes a statement needed to be made.
That was a lesson he'd learned recently; he was just sorry it had taken him this long to absorb the lesson the butchery in Iron had given him. Enemies deserved no quarter. You fought and fought and never gave in until one or both of you were dead; to do otherwise was to surrender what you believed in to the dominance of another. Kurama hadn't surrendered, despite his quiet admission of the Seifuku-sha's strength. Naruto hadn't surrendered when confronted with Orochimaru or that ANBU that should've killed him.
No, he'd learned this lesson.
He'd never back down, not ever.
For all his crazy, Ratface had done the same thing.
Naruto had just been better, had worked harder, been more skilled. That was that: the knife's edge that Tanaka spoke of and drilled them to focus on. Despite his win tonight, that mental awareness of his position in the pack was all too clear. Ratface was ranked higher than he was, now he was dead. That left Naruto in the exact same position. Ratface had been eighth out of nine trainees left, some from other batches still competing for rank, which sucked for them.
But Naruto knew he wasn't safe and neither was Kazan. He still needed that edge. This fight was close-too close, even with him being significantly more skilled than Ratface and with longer weapons. The reach didn't do enough to narrow the gap between speed, strength, and skill.
He would die if he faced anyone more skilled than Ratface. All of the other contenders were better by far technically. The dual blades would even things somewhat, and animalistic aggression would get him far, but not far enough.
Naruto started walking, dropping his hand from the wall. Already he felt a bit better, a bit less completely fucked up, his cuts scabbing, but his body was exhausted spiritually; chakra still did it's job inside his body, but it couldn't heal mental exhaustion. Focusing was difficult now, but he pulled himself towards the sanctuary of his room with Kazan.
Somehow, some way, he still needed that edge.
Tanaka caught him in the hall as he left; a ghost passing through him leaving him cold, speaking in a low whisper that he heard perfectly.
"Stop fucking around Naruto. We both know you more to give, but if you show anyone a performance like that again and I'll kill you and your stupid friend both myself. I don't like wasting my time."
Then he was gone again, ghosting away. Torin was eyeing him and speaking to Ears at the end of the hall. They both turned and walked away as Naruto gave them his back.
Great. Just fucking great.
The stakes just got higher.
Idly, Naruto lay on his sleeping bag over his dirty mattress and one finger followed the fine tracery of scars, newly-minted over the last few months, that wound it's away across his body; arms and chest mostly. He'd added some deep ones during his match with Ratface whom he'd found out later was named Tomaz, no last name, an orphan most likely, a name that definitely had the sound of Fire Country to it.
Naruto didn't even know why he'd bothered to learn the name anyway.
From the little he'd been able to glean from casual conversations with the other trainees, and those were few and far between as they made no bone about showing how much they disliked him, most of them had come to be here from some guy in the government. They'd thought they were going to a state home and then, poof, they were here. Still others came of their own volition, families making a choice to have one child go into the Gutter in the hopes of becoming a champion and earning enough money to send back to their families.
Desperation, as Naruto was finding, made impossible merely a long-shot.
Kazan was snoring, no surprise there, slumped over his artwork. Some bizarre abstract human with horns and three eyes and bizarre titanic creatures in the background that were fuzzy.
Who knew what ran through Kazan's head?
Every minute of every day was him, circling the chakra problem like a caged lion; even now, he couldn't stop turning it over like a worry stone, thoughts worn smooth. The irony burned. Naruto had been praised over and over for his seemingly bottomless ocean of chakra; by Master Ouran, by Yojimbra when doing his Reinforcement exercises, by Taza in control practice, and even random sensor samurai who could apparently feel him coming a mile away just by how unbelievably strong his chakra had been.
Now he had… not nothing, but less than nothing.
The sun had been at his fingertips, warming him, and now he couldn't feel the warmth, despite seeing how beautiful it was; the chakra didn't flow so much as it crashed inside him, not constrained by chakra pathways, but free flowing, spilling into every part of him. He could, with a lot of focus, make some of it move in a certain direction, but it was akin to shoving a boulder: he could see slight movement, but it always came back to rest. There was exactly no one here he could talk to about his problems-
In a flash, he dared to hope.
The Iryounin. She consented to heal various people, would she speak with him about chakra? En Oyashiro had spoken about how medical-trained ninja were able to convert their chakra internally into that special healing natured form of chakra they used that produced that green glow. Perhaps she would know something, be willing to show him, if not everything, at least enough he could puzzle things out?
Naruto sat up, he had very little left to lose.
Anybody could challenge him in the coming days and he had to win and win decisively to keep his spot. There would be no more 'scraping by.'
Just then, a knock sounded at the door before a trainer stuck their head in; this one was sandy-haired, with a long crooked nose that spoke of fight experience; broken, and more than once.
"On your feet and to the Hall. Tanaka has an announcement."
Naruto made to wake Kaz, but the man waved him away.
"Your friend can stay here, this doesn't concern him."
The two minute walk was done in silence.
The Hall, as pretty much everyone called it, was the same place he'd been when he first saw Tanaka speak. One third cafeteria, one third auditorium, one third lounge area, the Hall resembled nothing more than a massive open room filled with tables and chairs with the food dispensary taking up the entirety of the left wall as you entered. The opposite wall from where you entered through two large double-doors was a built-in stage with a low-raised podium. Tanaka and several other folks, including Guttermaster Toruku, conferred.
This is new… and new is bad.
New is hard to predict.
Several of the trainees already clustered in groups around the tables nearest the stage. Ears was quietly conferring with a few of the other brown-nosing hanger-ons, the ones that outright insulted him, or spit on him, or attempted to trip him before he broke a few of their noses and they stopped. Well, they stopped the rough stuff.
Nothing could stop those looks that felt like a physical thing on his back, or in this case, his front.
He took a seat to the right of the stage in a chair that had one leg of the four wobbling. How annoying. Just my luck. Naruto threw his legs up onto the table and leaned back, praying this would be quick and it would be some administrative paper-work related mumbo-jumbo. There was a yawning chasm in his stomach that was widening as he sat, anxiety making his palms sweaty.
Naruto didn't have to wait long.
Master Shin took the podium.
"Arena Master Tanaka has assured me that you are all doing your very best to become the next generation of my legendary Gutterknives. I know he is a hard man to please and the fact he says anything to me about how promising you all are is telling enough."
A brief smile turned the enigmatic man's lips up. Did his eyes flicker to Naruto? Nah, imagination. He was on edge still, after all.
"That being said, I'm excited to announce that our official season starts soon and the Gutter circuit will be open to both ranked matches and exhibition matches. Other Gutters are getting ready, with their rosters of both trainees and fights. Yet mine was selected by the Council to host the season opener."
Here he paused looking around the room. Naruto would've assumed the man was mildly pleased with this turn of events, but even the normal smile was like shouting with joy for anyone else.
"The reason I've gathered you all here was to inform you all that the Grand Oyabun Sukumu Gato, a very esteemed patron of mine, is set to arrive tomorrow and includes a representative from the new government of the Hidden Mist village, several diplomats, and his son, a distinguished fighter in and of himself, Lionel Gato."
There was a low hum of talking in response to this. Naturally, everyone was curious what any of this had to do with them and Naruto shared this anxiety. But it was the knowledge that a Hidden Mist delegation was arriving here, where Naruto was trapped, that set his heart racing and dread gripping his heart like a vice. He knew Hidden Mist had become a puppet for the Seifuku-sha. A Mist ANBU had tried to murder him in his sleep, had butchered the people he loved and piled their body parts in a heap outside his house, just because.
They'd do horrible things for no reason at all it seemed.
Hidden Mist wasn't done with him and he felt, in his heart, that if that representative recognized him, Tanaka and Master Shin wouldn't let something as small as a potential Gutterknife's profits stop them from carving him up, and Kazan for that matter, to please this Gato person. His problems just went from kind of urgent life-and-death to almost certain imminent dismemberment-and-death.
Escape was now priority number one.
He almost didn't catch the rest of what Master Shin was saying.
"...as all of you will be expected to participate in the Exhibition matches for the season opener, any trainee who does not perform to his or her full potential therein will be dealt with accordingly. We have no room in this program for visible nonstarters. Is that clear?"
Chorused agreements met that cold statement so Master Shin went on, more warmly, if you could call glacial melt warm.
"Perception of strength is almost as important in the grand scheme of things as actual strength. Therefore, these matches, meant to show the future strength of this Gutter, are of the utmost importance. Again, do you all understand?"
Another chorus of agreement.
"I trust Arena Master Tanaka will ensure our opening season preparations will be smooth and without issue."
Tanaka nodded. Torin bowed and left the room at a whispered word from the Lion. Memories flashed through Naruto's head of That Day and he flinched when Tanaka barked a dismissal. Those kept cropping up, distracting him. When did memory fade? When could he get those images out of his head?
I don't sweat this much during fights.
It was an effort just to practice his breathing to calm down.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
He knew it was the Mist announcement. That had him all kinds of fucked up. Naruto fairly sprinted back to his room. Kazan was up and drawing. He knew some fuinjutsu that would seal a room against listening; the proper symbologies, imbued with chakra, would prevent sound waves from leaving the bounded field created by the Fuin, but Naruto couldn't use his chakra and Kazan didn't have enough to do much of anything, let alone power a bounded field.
So whispering would have to do. His voice wavered. Get it together!
"Kaz!"
The goofy-looking behemoth barely even acknowledged he was in the room.
Naruto smacked the back of his head, Kaz barely flinched, but finally looked around seemingly confused which faded when he saw Naruto.
"Listen up. There is some big stuff going down in the next couple days. I…" Kazan drew attention wherever he went on account of his absolutely enormous frame. How would they even escape together? Naruto couldn't leave him, that was a given. Would Kazan even understand what was happening? His friend was surprisingly insightful and knowledgeable about things that were happening, but this was different. For all Naruto knew, these secrets had murdered Iron Country and likely Hidden Mist as well.
"There are… people… coming to this place that would kill me if they recognized me or knew I was here. I can't be here any longer and neither can you if I'm not here. So we need to escape."
Breathing deep, he said, "Do you understand? We can't stay here."
Those startling green eyes were clear with none of the fogginess that sometimes happened on bad days. Kaz nodded.
"No kill 'ruto."
"No kill me indeed," Naruto muttered. Who knew what they did with the kids who didn't make it. I have no desire to find out. "Be ready to skedaddle."
Kaz just looked confused. "Uh, to leave here quickly."
Kaz started to pack up. "No, not now. When I say."
That seemed to track. Good.
Now Naruto just needed to figure out how the hell they were going to sneak out of a place crawling with deadly chakra-using fighters on a day that security was bound to be extremely tight on account of the important people, half the criminal underworld if rumor was to be believed, all converging on the one place Naruto absolutely could not be.
Piece of cake.
Naruto sighed and threw himself on the shitty mattress face-first. It had absolutely no give and felt like concrete when he hit. Naruto briefly tried to suffocate himself. Death would at least be relaxing. His life felt, ever since That Day, that it had been in freefall with him having absolutely no control over events.
This was just the cherry on a piece of shit sundae.
Escape.
That was the goal.
If anything, it threw his other objective, find a way to regain some functionality to his chakra, into stark relief. He couldn't fight his way out as he was and stealth was less than an option with Kazan in tow. The guy couldn't sneak around if his goddamn life depended on it and it very much would. Not only that, but he wouldn't lie for all the money in the world. Honest to a fault and straight as an arrow was Kazan.
Any ideas would be a shaky limb he could grab on to for safety.
What about… the iryounin?
How could he have forgotten? Now was a perfect time to go visit her and hope against hope she had something he could use to fix himself.
What a tiny branch in a big-ass hurricane I'm holding onto…
He didn't really have any other options.
Naruto got to his feet and briefly spoke to Kaz. He had a day, at most, to figure something out and this was turning out to be another sleepless night in the making.
One day and the butcher's bill would be due, one way or the other.
He had no time to waste.