Disclaimer: The concept of Ranma 1/2 and Naruto belongs to Rumiko Takahashi, and Masashi Kishimoto. This is a product of pure amusement values, with no profits made.
"Sarutobi-san." Ranma knocked against the doorframe before he entered the room. "You asked for me?"
The Hokage looked up from his pacing around the room, and nodded at him. "Ran. I did. Sit, sit."
He bowed slightly, and sat down as the Hokage took his own seat behind the massive desk, though the old man's movements seemed strangely slow and sluggish.
"How are the classes at the academy? No more incidents, I hope?"
Ranma tugged against the ends of his pigtail unconsciously. "None, Sarutobi-san. Thank you for your concern."
"Mmm..." The Hokage commented, chewing on the ends of his pipe.
"Sarutobi-san." Ranma said, "Is there something you wish to inform me?"
Sigh. Sarutobi rubbed his eyes, suddenly looking tired and weary in his age. "My apologies, Ran, I know you're adjusting well to teaching, but there is a mission that requires your attendance... "
The old man paused, speaking as if affirming himself, "Though the hunter-nin would be more suitable for this... or even... well, Jiraiya will not return for another month, and time is rather vital on our hands. I'm afraid that I must ask you..."
He blinked, surprised even as a heavy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. "May I inquire the identity of my... target, Hokage-sama?"
"It's... Orochimaru."
"..."
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Azure orbs peeking from behind the mask, staring intently into gold.
"Surrender, Orochimaru." He demanded tonelessly, slowly moving away from the safe coverage provided by the trees. "Reinforcements will soon arrive. You would not be able to escape."
A malicious smile twisting his pale face, Orochimaru retorted mockingly, unconcerned. "Are you certain?"
The words were driven with a vicious hiss, and Ranma bit his tongue, the action hidden behind the feline mask, refusing to rise to the bait as he waited, tensely.
"Why don't we..." Pale hands began a rapid succession of familiar seals, "Test this!"
Ranma muttered a soft curse under his breath, the katana out of its scabbard in a single metallic hum even as the surroundings blurred around him, the hissing of serpents and the smell of musk filling the clearing. Genjutsu, I hate Genjutsu.
Steel clashed against illusion, and he held on, willingly embracing the freezing chill that rose from within him.
I'm not going to hold back...Not for this.
Sight.
The world flickered in his eyes, and became darkness.
Sound.
The clash of steel sang in a high pitch, before dulling to nothing.
Smell.
Fresh pine needles, tingeing with the musky scent of wet moss... faded.
Taste.
The bitterness against his tongue was suddenly absent.
Touch.
And there was none left for him but darkness and the cold.
His conscious separated from his body, and delved into a void of its own making, leaving the human shell behind in mortal combat while he floated in the darkness and cold, unaware. Was he moving? Was the katana still in his hands? Was his heart still beating its ever-constant rhythm against his chest? Was he... alive?
Nothing but the darkness answered him.
Is this what it feels like to die?
Time passed.
Pain that he should not have felt exploded into his willing prison, and he was suddenly, violently ripped away from the conscious darkness, and back into his body.
Ranma gave a shuddering, startled gasp, the taste and feel of air almost foreign against his tongue, the silence of the night loud against his ears, and he was reeling from the overload sensation. Of blooming color in his eyes, with the familiar scent of pine needles and wet moss assaulting his sensitive nose.
"You closed down all your senses and went into it..." Orochimaru murmured from somewhere above him, beads of sweat flowing along his brow and temple, his previously pristine clothing ripped and stained with slivers of red, and he too, was panting slightly from the exertion.
Ranma grunted, lurching blindly from his kneeling position on the ground. Pale hands gripped his wrists with bruising force, and he stiffed a cry of pain when the receding pain along his back bloomed once more as he was slammed roughly against the tree.
"I wasn't going to hold back for this..." Stormy blue eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, he managed to croak out with a mocking twitch of lips, hidden behind the safety of the porcelain mask.
"A powerful technique... Though you seem to have forgotten..." Orochimaru hissed softly against his ear, pinning his own battered and bleeding form against the tree easily with his hands. "Pointless against me."
"What the hell are you..."
Another pulse of pain from his back, much sharper and focused than before.
Realization. "The mark."
Pale chin dipped slightly in agreement, and he almost sneezed as wisps of raven tickled against his nose. "Of course. Everything has a price, Umino. You were just too stupid to realize it."
"Do you trust me?"
"Always."
"Don't underestimate me!" He shot back though gritted teeth, blue eyes narrowing in concentration behind the porcelain mask. The temperature took a drastic drop around him, declining into a frozen chill that spread from his mere presence.
The hands tighten their hold around his wrists, blue glared into serpentine gold, who merely looked back, amused, and unconcerned with the spreading ice that radiated from their contact even as the air became thinner, tingling with the steady rising of sharp chill...
...Until several loud, satisfying crunches echoed in the clearing, following by a loud gasp of pain, and the sudden, but steady receding cold.
Smirking, Orochimaru released his arms, deliberately shaking his hands in front of Ranma to rid the last fading numbness as the pigtailed ANBU cradled his arms to his chest, panting heavily from the shock of having every bone in his wrists shattered and imbedded into the flesh.
"That was stupid, very stupid." Orochimaru murmured, brushing his fingers along the porcelain smoothness of his mask, startling him from his hazy of confusion and pain. "I know you too well, Umino. That old man was a fool to let you come after me."
The chilly breeze of the night ruffled his sweat-drenched face, and the mask fell limply to his feet, a pale hand cupped his cheek, almost gently. Yet golden eyes triumphed above him.
"At least I found you." Ranma glared back viciously.
"Much good it's done for you. I can kill you easily right now." Orochimaru continued in a bored tone, gripping Ranma by his chin until the two were eye to eye. And gold expanded, becoming his world. Dimly, he heard the pale shinobi murmur, "Or did you forget, you're too weak."
Blood dribbling down her chin, her body crumpled on the ground, weak, too weak to protect herself, let alone anyone else...
Death... caused by foolishness and arrogance.
"We will never be able to restore your full strength."
Kijin Raisu Dan. And the woman was sliced cleanly in half, eyes wide with terror and incomprehension of her sudden demise. His hands were clean, and dirty with her death.
Bile was rising in his throat, but he knelt down, and dipped his hands in the crimson pool...
"Mommy? Where is my Mommy?"
Waking up to Tsunade's fear, Jiraiya's concern, and Orochimaru's silence, everything was a dream? Please, let it be a dream. No... the coppery tang in his mouth, and red under his fingernails, he can't wash them off...
The girl's face breaking out a breathtaking smile, so alike, so alike to her, but she's not...
"You're dying, Umino-san."
"You were the means to what I wanted, Ran."
"This is my grave."
"Husband, I just want to know... will you love me one day?"
"You seek to create a lost past."
Akane gave him a sweet smile...
Ranma doubled over, the painful grip around his wrists loosening as the images flashed over his eyes, faster and faster.
"S-stop this!" Wetness trailed down his cheeks, warm and salty. His clothes were drenched with sweat, and his arms were shaking from something other than the pain in his wrists. Genjutsu, it's just Genjutsu... Damn you!
"You hate it, don't you?" Orochimaru's voice drifted past his hazy mind, the words rich with the arrogance, as he had first known the other man. "It's in your eyes, Ran. The turmoil within you, even after all these years, still clinging to your past."
Fingers dug in his scalp, and he was forcefully pulled up to face the pale shinobi, his head hit against the tree, and brittle bark dug into his neck and shoulder. "Look at me."
He did. The last bitter tear trailing down from stormy gray blue eyes.
"Ran... Come with me." Orochimaru murmured softly, releasing his painful hold. "I can make you forget everything, take you away from your wretched existence in that equally pathetic village. You'll live, without the memories of pain. I will give you a purpose to your existence."
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TIMELINE – Year Sixteen, early August.
Ahh... the inevitable confrontation. Thanks to the nifty peeps at the anifics forum, who helped with the grammar and spelling of this story, especially Serafita, wai!