Anyway thanks to the reviewers, and I'll answer a question:
Meggido: About the Mizuho, your question got me to thinking about how the power really works. Since water actually can't 'burn' in a physical sense (the combustion process requires carbon) it's hard to say how it works. However, assuming the Mizuho derives its heat from some sort of reaction within water, and not just applying heat to it, which is how I believe the power should work, then yes, the water does eventually get used up. However, water has a very high heat capacity, so there's a lot of energy in even a small amount of water (for example, if all the heat energy it took to take a room temperature cup of water to boil away was applied to your body at once you'd be in real trouble), and it would depend on the intensity of the effect. Just creating tiny flames to provide light like Yi did during the infiltration isn't going to use up the water at all quickly, while causing ten-foot high burn-you-to-death flames would quickly use up a small water source.
Chapter 13 – Sand Sea(concurrently)
The sun set in the west slowly here in the flat lands of the desert, but without the red glory it had held in the plains. Instead there was only a harsh blurring vision at the edge of the horizon, as the last bits of heat leaked away as the sun faded. With the sun gone light and heat faded fast, sucked away by the vacant landscape, returning to realms better able to shelter them. Soon freezing cold would grip a land that had been scorching but hours before.
"I hate this," Ise muttered as he stood up in the lengthening shadows of a spur of granite. He was a creature of the sea, where temperature was a constant thing, and even in the depths of winter it rarely fell to such great chills as this fall night in the desert. The desert was the shark-blooded ninja's antithesis, a place where he did not belong. Yet Ise's chase had taken him here, to the expanse of sand, and there was nothing to be done now but endure.
It was a painful process, surviving the desert. Ise's body was not built for this. He was tolerant of cold, not made to endure heat, and there were other weaknesses. Though he walked with cloth wrapped carefully over all parts of his face besides the eyes, Ise still suffered from the scraping, painful abrasion of sand caught in his gills. It felt foul, to have that happen, but there was nothing he could do. He had wrapped his gill slits in bandages within hours of entering the desert, but they remained raw and pained. I must have water before they will heal, he knew. Yet Ise had no illusions that it would be soon. Not until his pursuit was finished.
Am I gaining on them? Ise wondered. He had little way to tell, as the moving sand obscured tracks well with the shifting winds, and he could do little more than follow the road south, assuming the Mizain and her grass pursuers had gone that way as well. They journeyed during the day, enduring the heat of the sun, and shivering at night, while Ise had taken the opposite course, avoiding the heat of the sun and traveling during the freezing nights, when the wind was low and the sky held a brutal clarity that was awe-inspiring to one born under the clouded skies of Mist's island village. He was tolerant of cold, his skin did not chafe in its embrace, protected as it was by scales, and his blood flooded freely even at low temperatures. Ise knew that even if not the best choice for other men, traveling this way was the best choice for him.
But there was no way to measure his progress. Only one thing was certain, the chase continued, that much Ise knew, for the grass ninja had not turned their course, the road continued south, and none had come back against him. How far do they plan to go? He wondered, for it all seemed so impossible. The Sand are indeed weak, to allow foreigners to penetrate so far into this desert where all the advantages belong to them. A foreign party on the seas of Mist would have long since been destroyed. Perhaps our strategies are different? It was a question Ise could not answer, but he could find no reason to allow enemy ninja to roam freely through one's territory, so he was forced to conclude the Sand ninja were indeed weak almost beyond measure. This was both good and bad for his pursuit. There will be no sand ninja to interfere, but then I must deal with the grass ninja by myself somehow. That was a problem Ise constantly forced out of his mind. He would deal with it when the moment came; there were no other options.
The shark-blooded ninja marched slowly through the sand under the starlit sky, looking forward, but watching everywhere. He moved quickly, daring much in this open land, for he must make time against his captors. The night aided him in some ways, he did not need to stop so often in the cold as a person moving under the hot sun would be forced to, and his long months of traveling on this mission had given him a skill to cover great distances. His endurance was strong, shark-fortified, Ise was confident that his quarry lay only perhaps a day ahead now, and he would catch them within two nights if all continued. In the shadows of his mind Ise suspected the Mizain girl would be a captive of the grass ninja by then, but he refused to make any plans until he knew for certain of the situation. My skills are sufficient to only so much.
In the desert night the winds were quiet, a few intermittent gusts to bring the occasional whisper of chill air and little more. Ise had learned to be aware of those winds, for air carried many things, and in this place where the sand robbed the eye of sensitivity and served as a confusing distraction, the wind served him well. His eyes were not his best sense, shark-blooded his nose carried to him things no normal human could know, no matter their training. It was a great advantage, for even those seeking to hide their scent from others would never be able to tell if they had succeeded against the shark's nose. Few humans could avoid that cunning sense no matter their preparation.
As the night wore on Ise caught a hint in a gust of wind. He thought little of it at first, but as he had been trained, marked it in case it should prove important. When he caught the same glimmer of sensation again he was thus warned, but did not yet react. In the desert he could not make the first move, and he must avoid all distractions until the last moment, to save time should it not concern him.
So it was that Ise was forewarned by scent when a new arrival appeared on the scene in the desert, a man walking through the barren landscape of dune and stone. His hearing did not tell him until far too late, when the soft footfalls on the sand could finally be heard and Ise turned his head to see a ninja walking along the dunes in a course that would take him to meet Ise if no one deviated.
A single sand ninja? Ise wondered, catching a glimpse of the tan and brown uniform. Surely he can't mean to attack me? Yet the sand ninja's path clearly intersected Ise's at a point in the future.
The encounter was unanticipated, and Ise wondered what to do about it. His first reaction was to simply rush to the attack, kill the sand ninja, and leave the body buried in the dunes. It was an impulse it took some work to crush. Ise knew it was not the right move, but it was what he wanted to do, and it took some moments to recognize the shark's influence in the suggestion. Curse it, this is becoming impossible, he thought, but then pushed it to the back of his mind. Other concerns were more important. He knew better than to kill without a reason, the consequences were always damaging. Better to let the sand ninja show his intent. He cannot be certain of my mission, and surely the grass ninja are a greater threat than I, Ise decided, but his grip on his spear was tight indeed.
So Ise continued his steady walking pace, and in time the sand ninja came to walk beside him. Ise looked at him out of the corner of his eye, knowing the sand ninja could see only a generic mist ninja due to his henge disguise. This reminded him of the possibility that the sand ninja's appearance might well be meaningless. It is a dangerous assumption to try and read anything from his appearance, but it is my only clue. The sand ninja was shorter than Ise, but matched his long-legged stride with ease, moving fluidly over the treacherous sand dunes. He had a solid build, and a face crisscrossed with many slender scars, as if from needle slashes. The sand ninja wore the brown and tan easily, and kept his forehead protector strapped to his left arm, leaving his face exposed. An odd affectation for the desert, Ise noted, but it did not seem important. All in all, there was nothing to mark this ninja out particularly. This, unfortunately, meant little.
They walked together in silence for some time, neither ninja saying anything, simply taking the measure of each other. It was a strange scene, two ninja who were not enemies, but were not friends, one intruder and one defender, walking together as if simply taking a nighttime stroll. The desert around them belied the pleasant scenery, for this was a violent environment, one as lacking in mercy as the jagged coastlines of Ise's home in Mist.
As Ise remained stubbornly silent for many minutes, the sand ninja finally spoke. When he did it was as if speaking to an old friend, and he did not pause for a moment in walking with Ise. "Usually Mist ninja come to the Wind country from the south." He said, plainly expecting a response.
So that is the game then, Ise recognized, rising to play it himself. I was never good at dancing words, pity. Well, I can always just gut him. "Even ninja can travel south before the coming winter," he answered.
The sand ninja smiled, amused. "So they do, but this begs the question of why a mist ninja would be so far from home in the cold north that his migration should bring him here."
Damn! Ise recognized that he was outclassed in this game, but he must continue to play it as best he could. "There are many things that may bring a ninja far from home, most of them are harmless enough."
"All too true," the sand ninja remarked, looking thoughtful. "Yet it has been said that nothing mist ninja do is harmless."
"Few things ninja do are harmless by the reckoning of normal men," Ise replied. "But such standards do not measure ninja."
Behind his smiling face the sand ninja let a bit of darkness creep into his eyes, and Ise sensed he had scored a point with the last remark. "True enough, but few cross the desert alone for harmless purposes, it is not the way here."
There was no easy answer for that remark, so Ise let it hang for a moment, yielding the advantage.
"I think your stride belies simply a steady journey south to the sea," the sand ninja's voice was more cutting now. "You have a greater goal than simply wandering with such a purposeful walk."
"Going home is not a suitable purpose?" Ise began with that remark, but recognized quickly that it would not serve, so he added. "Or perhaps crossing the desert requires a purpose of its own?"
"You are wise for an outsider here, to realize that, but that purpose and the purpose behind your stride are two separate things indeed," his face grew grim. "And you head unerringly with your gaze in one direction. What lies to the southwest that interests you so?"
"So you must know my interests now?"
"I am merely curious, curious what brings a traveler so far so fast," now the sand ninja smiled again. "Is that not suitable for a ninja in his own land?"
By now Ise was tired of the game, and so he answered as he had long wished, as a shark would. "I have nothing to tell you. My purpose is my own, and nothing of yours to bother with."
"Is it? Yet, I think I know your purpose, mist ninja," the sand ninja's smile grew viscous and hungry now. "There is only one thing that might interest you to the southwest, a chase. You are hunting the hunters it seems. One intruder followed by other intruders, all from the north, and now you come, a mist ninja far away from home. It speaks well of the importance of this chase does it not."
"If you know so much, why haven't you done anything about it?" Ise asked the sand ninja, honestly confused.
"Why indeed?" the sand ninja suddenly stopped walking. Ise took two more steps, and then turned about to face the ninja with a swift motion, holding his spear at the ninja's chest.
"Well, a quick move, and an odd weapon," for a man with a sharp point of steel ready to skewer him the sand ninja seemed far too amused, and Ise immediately began to consider this with far more focus than he put on the other man's words.
"I asked you why you hadn't done anything," Ise told him slowly, mind searching for an explanation of the sand ninja's actions. "Should you really let this happen on your lands?"
"Should I?" the sand ninja chuckled softly. "I wonder. Do you know, mist ninja, what happened a few months ago in Konoha?"
"You ambushed the leaf during the chuunin exam, and lost," Ise replied, barely managing avoid laughing. "Your whole village got tricked into such foolishness, and is now weak."
"So you do know then, just how weak we are now," the sand ninja shrugged. "And you have not figured out why I haven't done anything about the problem to the southwest?"
It took Ise a moment to figure out what the sand ninja was saying, to consider things from a perspective he rarely did, even as he was trying to determine why the sand ninja let him level his spear to his chest. There was a duplicity to both moves, Ise realized, but he determined one first. "You don't want a conflict with the grass ninja, so you won't give them any excuse," he began, and then something even darker dawned on him. "No, you want the grass ninja to succeed, so that you can say you helped them, so maybe they'll take you in. Traitorous bastard!" Ise shouted into the raw desert air, revealing the absolute contempt he had for those who would forsake their loyalties.
"Traitorous?" now it was the sand ninja's turn to become angry. "You call me traitorous? A single man tricked all our leaders, and now there's no one to lead us, and a mad demon boy is our greatest weapon and the son of the former Kage? I'm not a traitor; I'm just going to leave a doomed village. But thank you for confirming my assessment of you, mist ninja."
"What do you mean?" Ise sensed violence was drawing closer, and he needed to answer the other puzzle before it came to blows. He had sensed something strange about the sand ninja, it was there in the back of his mind, but it was elusive, and he had to struggle to try and remember why it was important.
"Oh, really. Surely you understand what your presence means. The grass ninja can catch their prize and they will reward me, they will understand I let them pass, and their small country always needs more strength," the sand ninja made it clear he had thought this through. "But you, you're a mist ninja. If you take this prize it will go back to mist, a possible enemy of Sand, and you'd never reward me, the Mist do nothing but kill traitors." Now the sand ninja sneered. "So I guess you have to die." His lethal intent was clear, but Ise was no longer listening.
His anger is fake! Ise had realized suddenly, recalling the sand ninja's outburst a moment before. His voice had been raw and angry, and his face had shown it, but something had not matched up. Ise recalled now, samurai shouting at him on the road south, and the fury of the young grass ninja he had killed. Anger brings blood to the face, hot blood, blood I can smell, but not in this ninja. Even as the sand ninja finished his last words, Ise realized what he was really holding his spear against. This is a clone, he must have made the switch before I turned. Stabbing him will just give him the opening to attack.
Still Ise didn't move. He needed to buy a bit of time. Where is the real one? He searched desperately, but he could not move his eyes or body, or the enemy would know, and he suspected the sand ninja had an attack that would kill him if given the chance to strike him when vulnerable. He had to rely on the one weapon the other did not recognize, the shark's blood.
"So I have to die then," Ise remarked. "How do you plan to accomplish that, you seem at a disadvantage?"
The clone laughed, but Ise was not paying any attention to it, he was searching his senses for a clue, either scent, or some other way, to identify his enemy.
Suddenly, he had it.
In the sea, all motions echo against each other, for nothing moves that does not cause water to move, forcing it away. All motions can therefore be felt in the motion of water near them, in the changes of pressure and flow, at least for those who can detect such motion. Mammals cannot, but fish can, and sharks among them, so Ise could sense such things. Of course, such senses were normally useless in air, but in the fluidity of sand, there was great similarity to the ocean, and Ise found he could feel a vibration in the sand.
It was a slight thing, a tiny sensation he barely knew how to interpret, but the shark's voice told him what was necessary, the burning instincts swelling up from deep inside Ise, a single potent urge. Strike now! He did not need to see the enemy, did not require the confirmation of the eyes, his body told him to strike and so he did.
Ise spun around, kicking out to rise into the air, spinning in midair and bringing his spear up against his body. A moment later his spin brought him around to the right place, and he did not look, but simply thrust out, the spear punching deep into the packed sand as Ise exerted strength and chakra.
There was a gasp, followed by a sick, choking noise, and Ise took no chances, but stabbed the spear deeper as he landed, twisting to make absolutely certain. Behind him now, the clone crumbled away into sand, spilling over onto the desert surface as if it had never been. Only then did he begin to clear away the sand to reveal the sand ninja's body.
It was not a kind sight. Ise had pierced the man in the stomach, and then wrenched his spear brutally, ripping the man open with a wound that was assuredly lethal, but might taken hours or even days to fully kill the sand ninja. The sand ninja could still see through tormented eyes and he groaned and gasped with constant agony. His limbs twitched and spasmed, struggling to grasp his ruined body and put things back together.
Horrid as it was, Ise was past remorse. It had been life or death, and there was no mercy between ninja, certainly not from him anymore. He was going to be a traitor. He deserves only death. That conviction was rock solid in Ise, forged by the doctrine of Mizukage and the Warlord. Yet, I cannot leave it like this, I need something from this one still.
"Listen to me," Ise said in a cold voice, grasping the sand ninja's head with his hand. "I need to know where the grass ninja are going. So I can catch them."
"Why…tell…you?" His voice broken and wheezing, the sand ninja was nevertheless defiant.
"Tell me, and I'll kill you now," Ise replied levelly. "Don't and your desert can be your end."
"Curse…you…bloody…mist…ninja…" the sand ninja coughed, blood coating his mouth. "Oasis…southeast…past…twin…spires…only…water…" His voice trailed off. A fit of coughing came, and then he managed a few more words. "Do…it…"
"The oasis past the twin spires," Ise tightened his grip, shaking the sand ninja. "They have to go there for water, you're sure?"
The sand ninja could only nod.
"Very well," Ise rose, took his spear in both hands, and brought it down over the sand ninja's heart.
When it was done, Ise swept some sand over the dead ninja's body, just enough to hide it for a time, though he knew the desert vermin would consume the man soon enough, there was no way to prevent that. "An oasis to the southeast." Finally Ise could put words to an objective, name a place. "I suppose I have to bet on that, and head there directly." He told himself that, and decided to stop now for the rest of the night. He would rest, and then climb a high dune in the morning to find these twin spires. Once he knew the direction he could proceed with great haste. For the first time Ise felt he had a chance to succeed against the grass ninja who sought the same quarry as he. It was only a small regret for him that another had to die to provide him with that confidence.