This is Iruka's dream/vision. As such, it does not make sense. All will be revealed in do time. Thank you for encouragement and your great reviews. You are my inspiration ^_^

Chapter 8


Not black darkness, but horrible devoid gray. And just as suddenly as the darkness had come, shapes were surrounding him. Different color shapes, colors that were familiar. Dear god, was that his mother? And there, yes there! His father. And students, students long dead and long graduated. And Naruto and Sasuke and Sakura and Kiba and Shino and Hinata and Ino and so many others. But they weren't looking at him. They were fighting… who? There was blue and orange and pink and another orange and a terrible terrible red. Yes, there was laughter there to. But it was a horrible laughter, a dark deep red laughter. It sent chills up his spine and caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end, like someone had just run their nails across a blackboard. He gritted his teeth against the noise, willing it away.

The shapes were moving fast now, faster and faster and faster until it was all just a whirl of color that his eyes could not follow. And it was getting brighter, more blinding and never stopping. Then, just as suddenly as everything else, it all faded away and he was left standing alone in the gray. But now it wasn't gray anymore. It was growing darker and darker and yes, now it was black. And he wasn't standing anymore, he was on his back. And there was… pain. A burning blinding agony kind of pain. There was the vague feeling that something profoundly horrible was happening.

And there was red, red on the horizon. A red that was as brilliant as the pain spiking in his back. His breath shortened into quick wheezing gasps and he was clutching his chest because it was starting to hurt there too. Suddenly he desperately craved light. Any form of light and long as it was bright and warm and chased away the burning that was creeping up his spine. He tried to get up, to go search for his light, but he couldn't move. His arms and legs felt like leaden weights and it was all he could do to raise his head. He slumped down in defeat. The need for light was eating away at him, he needed it. The desire for warmth gnawed at him just like the pain. And the pain was getting worse, it felt like someone was stabbing him in the back over and over and there was a terrible burning and his vision was going dim and he could hear screaming.

High pitched pleading screaming that cut its way into his ears and his eyes were watering, crying, because it was him screaming and he never wanted to hear that scream. And the pain never stopped. And there it was again, the laughing. The evil red laughing. It was taunting him, teasing him.

I'm causing your pain it screamed at him. It's all my doing and I love it so it will never stop. This is your punishment Iruka!

Iruka screamed at it, screamed that he hadn't done anything and to please make it stop. The laughing was grinning now, an evil sinister grin that seemed to cut into him like a thousand knives, knives that were already ripping out his spine and cutting into him, searching for his heart.

Oh but Iruka, this is punishment. You've been a naughty boy. You shouldn't be here Iruka. You shouldn't be here while I am not. Naughty naughty boy.

"No!" Iruka screamed. "I'll be good, I'll be good! Please make it stop! Please please please please--"

But now the pain was spreading into his chest as if invisible hands were grasping his ribs with ice and twisting, twisting, and Iruka screamed more, pleaded more.

"No, please! It's so cold, make it stop! I can't stand the cold!"

And now it was laughing again. Cold? It sneered. This isn't cold Iruka. This is you.

Iruka screamed louder, the twisting turning to breaking and he could feel the pressure bearing down on his chest, an invisible weight bent on crushing him.

Oh, but Mercy I will give you, Iruka. Better yet, I will give you Fire. Oh yes, delicious red fire. It will consume you, Iruka of the Iro Kehai, consume you until your ashes blow in the wind and you never were and I was. The fire will eat its way into you, tearing you apart. And you will beg for it to stop before the end.

"Oh anything just stop the cold, I can't stand the cold because it burns it burns OH GOD IT BURNS its breaking me and I can't see, I can't see." Iruka babbled. A rib cracked with a sound like a gun shot and his eyes were watering and oh god that agony, please make it stop, anything for it to stop.

A gift then. Fire. All yours Iruka, keep the Fire I give you. The laughing grew louder and louder and shrill and there was something so wrong about it, so dark and cold like a winter storm that Iruka moaned and longed to cover his ears with his hands but he couldn't move them, there were stakes through them, his hands were staked to the floor.

"OH GOD PLEASE STOP STOP ITS SO COLD PLEASE STOP I CANT MOVE I CANT NO NO COLD ITS BURNING ME PLEASE IT HURTS MOTHER IT HURTS PLEASE HELP ME--" he raved, screaming at the top of his lungs and sounding like a little boy crying for his mother, because that was indeed was he was doing.

And then there was Fire. The laughing faded away and tears traced their way down Iruka's face. A thousand words of 'thank you' raced though his mind because the horrible laughter was gone and the Fire had come. Oh yes, sweet delicious Fire, as promised. He could feel it on his face. The Fire was above him, smiling at him and crackling merrily.

"Closer" he whispered. "Your so warm, come closer."

And the Fire obeyed. He felt his face getting hotter and hotter. The Fire was touching him now and the burning cold pain didn't seem so bad anymore. Iruka sighed and longed to reach up and touch it. And suddenly he could. His arms would obey his command and they reached up to touch the Fire that was so close above him. But when he saw his hands a horrible feeling came over him. There were holes there, holes through his hands where the stakes were and there was blood dripping down them, dripping down his arms to form puddles, puddles that were big, too big. And his stomach churned and he turned to the side and threw up more blood and at the sight of it he began to get hysterical. A sudden burn blossomed on his cheek and he shrieked and stared up at the Fire. Except the Fire was gone now and it was inside him now. And it burned, oh god how it burned. The pain in his back was gone, and his hands didn't seemed to matter any more. Because the Fire was eating him. Oh yes, eating him, devouring him. He screamed, screamed as if he had never stopped. Every inch of his body seemed on fire, was on fire and he could feel his arms and legs and fingers and his face melting, and it was agony. He longed for the cold of before, the comforting ice that had seized him and twisted him but now there was only this Fire. If only he could run from it, leave it behind. Yes, that is what he would do. Raving in hysterical insanity he lurched to his feet. How he managed that is beyond possibility. It felt as if he had no arms, no legs. They were burned away, the Fire eating his veins and muscles and burning his blood. And now that he was on his feet, the Fire froze, froze eternally in his very being, a Fire that would always burn him, always scar him. A Fire that existed inside him, tearing and screaming.

"Run? Should I run? No, running is long past. Instead… I will stand." He said softly to himself.

An eerie music reached his ears. Music? Impossible, he was insane, crazy, hallucinating, there was no music in this place of darkness. There was only the Fire, the red Fire. But yes indeed, there it was. Music. A stead relaxing twang that seemed to vibrate his entire body. Yes, yes it was vibrating his body and moving it. Moving his legs in fluid movements, waving his arms in graceful gestures and his eyes were turned heavenward, up where the sun should be. Yes, the sun was singing to him. And his hips began to weave back and forth and he realized with pleasure and terror that he was dancing. Dancing when the Fire consumed him, dancing when the cold began to eat its way into his back again, grasping his ribs and twisting, forever twisting.

And he began to laugh. Not the dark twisted laugh that had taunted him but a sweet merry laughter that felt like a soothing waterfall that was pouring itself down his body and pooling at his feet. And his feet were kicking up splashes of it that were dancing along with him. But it never quenched the Fire, it could never douse that inferno. But the water danced with him and the sun sang to him and he twirled and moved until the Fire had consumed everything and only his laughter hung in the air… and a promise. A promise to keep the fire alive. And a pair of eyes, a pair of tattooed eyes that spoke of fire and pain and death. A pair of eyes with laughter lurking in their depths and a burning consuming promise of power.