Warnings: religious implications. Violence. Cursing. Shounen ai hints.
Disclaimer: I own no Naruto characters…or much of anything else, come to think of it.

Reach.
a
tale of
rising lower and
falling higher
up.

Chapter Eight, Sasori…by Taes

The figures in the distance appear first as small, but as any artist knows, that is merely a perception of distance. I smile vaguely and focus my keen sight on the feuding two. My assumption is confirmed; Sammael and Jiraiya fight bitterly as they like.

My lips quirk. As they must.

What surprises me most, however, is the plane on which they battle. Reality, of all the planes, drastically limits what each may do...their powers are bound to laws of belief, laws of equality, here. This realm does not change to fir our wishes, and neither will gain from it. In most instances, they will take their Eternal Duty to the Threshold…the place between the first heaven and Kuuchin…

Curious.

Sammael does not usually come to this realm...not unless there is a soul Orochimaru has told him to collect...and if that is the case, as times most often demand, Itachi—as the benevolent angel of death—would be about.

As easily as I flex my wings in flight, I reach out for our leader.

My lips tighten.

Itachi has indeed come upon this plane...and he battles with the Fallen, Kakashi—that one and his brats—alongside other demons no angel would bother to name.

I hesitate, for an instant.

My charge is Sasuke, and he is not yet between realms. But every angel is called to protect heavenly souls, and so this soul must be, if it merits both dark angels of death.

Do I distract the adversary?

Or do I assist my commander?

The choice, alas, is made for me. Sasuke has appeared on the lower part of the realm. Interestingly, he flies the midpoint between the dark angels...

I go to meet him, opening my mind to his presence. As an angel of Akatsuki, I am not overly surprised, and never overwhelmed.

To my surprise, young Sasuke has assumed the mantle of his position; he has taken the image of his title. He is an Avenger, a winged and mighty extension of the Lord's awe-inspiring power.

I tilt my head upwards—towards the stars above—and I roll my shoulders out. My lips are barely parted, and had dear Joan seen me, she would surely have said, 'The call of war has taken you, Gabriel, and I pray you, remember this humble servant's cause!'

Sweet little thing...she thought too much for a pretty doll. She was to speak in my, Itachi, or the Heavenly Creator's place...though I spoke more than either Itachi—who she called Michael—or the One—who she called God, as though such a being may take a gender…in any case, the dear was not meant to think...

The vessels of the Heavenly Order's words seem not at all willing to be as humble, abiding servants as they claim themselves to be. If it were not so, dear Joan would not have met her fiery end...

But present actions call for present thoughts. Sasuke, I find, is along the outskirts of a small town. His sword of fire and light is drawn, and his eyes blaze red. Near him, I see a spirit, nine of tails and red as flame. The beast smiles a fearsome little grin, and at her neck, I see a black clothed little demon of blond hair and shapely blue eyes. Six lines of power, of heritage, mark his cheeks, and wings of immaterial, spirit-like form grace him.

My lips form a small smile.

From my loose flowing robe, I draw an ebony cylinder, and grasping one end, I pull it apart to form a lengthy spear. I call forth the blade of arching light, much as Sasuke calls fire to his sword. With my chosen weapon in hand, I descend on the beastly pair. As Father or Mother, which I cannot say, from this spirit-fox has Naruto come. If my eyes serve me correctly, this cruel and awesome monster has taken the lives of many.

My eyes land on the monster's sharp claws, and as I form a plan of action, I sense it.

The power residing in this ancient spirit transcends that of a Cherub, and even that of a Seraphim angel…alone, I may have the ability to critically wound this foul beast, but destroy it? Much as I loathe to admit it, I would need another of my order for this. Fair Deidara, the angel called Uriel by mankind.

I lift my eyes heavenwards, and as I reach for the flute made of the Virgin Mother's bone—

—my eyes roll back into my skull, showing the world only white.

This is not my ding; it is not my wish.

For a time, I can only be forced back by gales as strong as hurricanes…winds caused, no doubt, by the thrashing of nine great tails.

Nevertheless, my momentary paralysis is not the doing of the fox spirit. It is an unexpected, forced merging of minds. This form of communication is one that I—as the receiver—may not sever.

I submit myself to the whim of the Lord.

I am quiet, falling through air.

At last, the call I hear comes into words...not through the ears, but through my mind. Each word is as lightning, each syllable as rough and coarse as it is liquid and stunning. Such is the way of an angel…such is the way of Itachi, with his cool, unchanging voice.

His message is simple.

"Kill the half-demon child, and await my coming. Secure his soul,

"for me.

"For heaven's glory,

"and young Sasuke's grace."

At last, my understanding is complete.

With a quiet nod and a simple smile, I bring the bone-created flute to my lips.

I take a moment to appreciate the bone…it is a gift from Mary's body…difficult to Will into being, but trustworthy in practice. Indeed, if it were not a relic in itself, the flute would split with the raw and aching noise I draw forth. However, as it is, my fine instrument rings pure and true.

It carries the haunting tune far and wide as the universe.

All hear the melody, but only those Touched few may listen.

I put the flute away, and my ear to the wind.

Deidara comes.

I hear his twelve great wings in flight, and I sense his glowing, truthful light draw near.

Below me, the fox-spirit laughs…it is a sound mankind has perished to in the thousands of years gone by, and the mirthful, self-satisfied purr of the same spirit has urged many empires to True power…

You see, the actions of a spirit-fox, called Kitsune by their kin, depend solely on their mood. They are neither inherently kind nor evil. They are a class of creatures making up the neutral faucet of the realms…and their Lord is Inari, for good or ill.

The thought leaves me, and in my being I sense Deidara's Light—and then he is above me, soaring effortlessly on harsh winds.

He calls out. "It would seem, brother, that you have called, mm?" the blond angel Deidara chuckles, and he pulls two exquisite flowers from his sash. "Milord," a term of respect may ever be expected from sweet, addled Deidara. "Allow me to assist."

My smile has not yet changed, and my eyes—described as sleepily amused by some—do not widen. Nevertheless, I nod, and I lift my spear. This, too, is a relic of great power. The old, blackened bone of Beelzebub, the first Hokage—lord of Hell, —seems to glow.

I laugh quietly, and massage my right temple. Silently, I ran long fingers over my smooth face, and I take my spear upwards.

My thoughts run quick.

The first Hokage…Sammael…they are merely different sides to the same cracked and spoiled gem. The same angel, first of the Fallen, in different guises.

What would the legions of hell do, should they know this?

I push the idle wonderings away, and think to greater thoughts. The fox, a one-time beloved to the so-called Fourth Hokage, will surely recognize the weapon of old bones. This Kitsune will guess, I know, that the Fourth now fights with courageous Jiraiya, just south of here.

What will she do?

I must be quicker than that clever fox.

"From the sky, dearest." I bid Deidara. "Take your foolish explosions and cast them down as rain."

Once more, I roll my shoulders, pondering how to say it. I open my mouth, ready to let the words flow forth. "The child Naruto is to be claimed." I chuckle, soft. Gently amused and pleased. "For heaven."

Deidara hums quietly. "For heaven, huh?" he laughs, his eyes bright and wide. "For Itachi, yeah?"

I let my smile widen at this clever little puppet.

I nod. "Keep your art, Deidara-dear…and allow me to find and capture the sweet, powerful soul of a half-breed." With a small twitch of lips, I dive.The winds pull at me, causing great pressure on my perfect body. My wings pulse with power—

—and I am upon them, kitsune and kit, lashing out with my Hokage-come spear.

The response is immediate; his cry, filled with surprise and anger. His sharp eyes focus on mine, and he snarls a curse. "Dammit, Sasori, watch where you put that thing—"

Such a trusting soul should never have been raised in Hell.

We tumble to the floor, just underneath the monster's legs.

I look at him with gentle eyes. "I am the angel of War, fox-child." I come forward, my white wings enfolding the two of us in a soft downfall of feathers and light. "I will tear your soul from that corrupt shell, and take it to the utopian fields." My words are soothing, they should be slow and peaceful, in contrary to my nature.

I wonder if he can tell the difference between the words, and my giving of them?

His eyes widen at my voice, as it is layered in the shadows and lights of an archangel. He has never heard a voice as old, as powerful as mine, speaking through Title, position. I allow my smile to widen.

Whether or not he knows it, Naruto is already mine. I let the words tumble forth. "For the Lord our Creator, and for your everlasting

"peace."

His blue eyes are round; I can see the entirety of the perfect iris, and his charming mouth is a gapping hole of disbelief.

To think, seemingly only hours before, we were walking side by side in Heaven, chatting amiably.

"Sasori, what the fuck are you talkin' 'bout? Only I choose where the hell I go, and it ain't gonna be heaven!"

My smile is true when I look into his eyes.

His words fall flat.

"That privilege is reserved to human mortals, child, not star-souls…you belong to whoever takes you

"first."

For this reason—to take the child—Sammael and Itachi have been dispatched. As angels of death, they alone may claim Naruto for their respected sides…it is a great task.

With a laugh that carries far and wide, I pull away from him, removing the soft blanket of wings. My spear grasped tight. The bones listen to my will, and I aim for his stomach with a singing grin.

At the same moment, Deidara's rain reaches the world.

My eyes stretch with merriment.

Every living thing it touches explodes in a burst of power and light, perfecting his so-called art to a shower of brief sparks and fires.

At last, Naruto grasps my meaning. The demon hides himself beneath the fox's long, hard fur. He clutches tightly at the beast.

I wonder, is he afraid?

I let my words fall down on him like drops of water. "Your father will surely want such a strong, powerful asset in his arsenal, boy…and he is not one to allow such power to walk freely. Sammael is not the sort to relinquish any source of strength." I chuckle as I roll my shoulders back, and my strong wings pull me farther away from the boy. My voice softens. "You would be a slave, darling…no son of his."

Behind me, Sasuke's cries of battle turn to a surprised gasp. A moan. Startled, hurt eyes turn towards us.

So Vengeance hadn't realized.

How quaint…the demon boy is the sort who would hide this from even an angel he fancies…perhaps Naruto does not love our darling child, after all…

Never matter, never mind. I stretch my wings outwards, the perfect image of an angel in flight; fearless, strong and far above all human cares. "Come to me, Naruto, and I shall ensure your everlasting freedom." My voice rings with the tones of my Office, and Reality shakes with it.

Cerulean eyes are wide. The soft mouth is turned down in horror, and a cry of utter anguish and rage splits the air. "Hell no! My dad'd never do that, you bitch—" his trembling emotions interrupt the words. "—he loves me! Like fuck he'd turn me inta—in ta some kinda battery!"

A bit of rain lands on the Kitsune, and a burst of light—such as foolish humans create in times of celebration and war—bursts forth.

Thick fur prevents true damage to the old creature, but a growl of irritation finds my ears.

Before snapping jaws crush my wings, I pull away—without a change of smile. I laugh as the tool of Inari snarls at me.

"Then why, dear child, does your father, fallen angel of death, come ever nearer?" I call. The wind carries the words to he who would not hear.

"Shit!" the small, round face turns to the huge monster. "Kyuubi, is that true?"

The fox laughs as I circle the two from above, waiting for the right moment. With half an ear, I listen to their conversation. "All these questions, child…there surely is no use for you, is there? Who'd want a brat with never ending demands?" the deep, rough voice suggests irritation beyond human fury, but Naruto pays it no mind.

A child of hell would be accustomed to loveless tones.

"'Why did I have you,' indeed." The fox snorts, as if the answer were obvious. "Power, brat."

Naruto starts visibly, and his expression sinks to one of deep regret. Of pain I had never assumed a demon was capable of feeling. But this is not a demon, I must remember, this is a child born of great potential, of a great soul.

Harsh and breathy, the voice follows Naruto, despite his wish to never hear. He edges away from the monster's girth. "You are an embodiment of myself and a fallen Light." Pride carries through, but it has nothing to do with the golden child at the Kitsune's feet. "No strength yet has matched that of your soul, despite the dimwitted head you carry…" laughter bites the air.

I let my weapon fly, sensing a hole in Naruto's shields. The spear of Beelzebub flies through the creature's eye, and with a flick of my hand, I call it back.

Now is the time to awaken the assassin…my newest pawn of war.

"Sasuke!" I shout.

The young one is dazed. His task—to avenge the orphaned and solitary victims of a jealous beast's rampage—is only half filled.

My voice calls him back.

His red eyes focus on the beast, and his shields blaze brighter.

Naruto rolls away from the thrashing fox, eager to desert the bleeding, howling beast. He comes to rest under the cover of a fallen tree, sheltered by its long limbs and leaves.

He will regret it, soon enough…as the rain hits him.

I smile.

"The villagers, dear child," I call to Vengeance. "They need you to destroy this abomination." Twirling the spear of bone and light, I nod at the red, red fox.

Sasuke nods.

Through howling winds, Naruto screams in pain and anger. The first of the drops have grazed his shoulder, and the light forthcoming surely blinded him. Despite it all, he clutches the raw skin, and shouts, "Don't fuckin' touch Kyuubi, you son of a bitch!"

What a persistent kid.

Deidara laughs above us. "Oh ho, isn't that you, darling?"

…yes…Naruto is the son of bitches…the thought turns my smile upwards.

Deidara calls for more rain, and cherishes the moment each brilliant flash goes off.

I roll my eyes, knowing that true beauty exists only in eternal pieces.

As I look, I glimpse a small figure—no, two—off in the distance. Sammael and Jiraiya, sworn to fight until the end of time. Sammael, as the reaper of darkness, and Jiraiya as the hand of the Lord…he is mirror to the Voice, Orochimaru, and the tall angel is the snake-angel's twin.

I frown, cursing Jiraiya for a fool. Aloud, I say, "We've not much time, Avenger," I murmur, so even against the rain the black-haired angel may hear my voice.

Determination sets in the fool's lovely red eyes, and a lost sort of hope floats between us.

However, we have forgotten one thing…the Kitsune may be neutral, but even Inari serves a purpose.

Kyuubi has made its move.

The once-enormous beast has shrunk to the size of a mortal woman, and taken the fetching shape of a young girl, barely older than Naruto himself.

She is tall and graceful, sweet of face and round of features, save the narrow, almond eyes. Her red hair matches blood-struck auburn orbs, and the gray robes of old, they shield her from Deidara's flashes.

My eyes widen.

She beckons her child hither, and despite white-hot streaks running through the air, the boy goes…

…as any loving, reckless child would listen to their mother…

Her soft hands cup his face—

—I pull my spear backwards, ready to strike both child and mother in one fell swoop—

—and words of Power pass between them.

Naruto laughs, giddy, upset, confused.

And then he screams.

He is only a heap of soft flesh and bones at this gray Lady's feet.

My eyes close.

So much, I fear, for the love of a mother.

The Kitsune smirks. Her tongue is blood red. "My child is my own, archangel Gabriel. No force of heaven or hell may bring him out of this Realm." Her laughter is like honey; cloying, sweet, and all-too thick. "He is bound to the land, unable to pass either gate."

Once more, she chortles, amused.

My eyes open, and I laugh with her, pulling with graceful fingers at my aching temples. My hands tug the corners of my mouth down, exposing white, white teeth.

She doesn't realize.

I bite at my aching wrists, making preparations. My blood drops…spirals to the earth…

Vengeance has her.

Calling on the blood spilt—oaths stronger than light—he takes his golden sword and plunges it between her shoulder blades.

The Lady shakes for a moment.

It is the sword that falls, and my dear brother's soft, white hands are empty.

Retribution is strong willed, and revenge takes many paths. It waits not, and allows no earthly thing to stop it.

Sasuke, an aspect of Fury, tears her chest open with frail, soft hands.

Those fingers are no longer white.

The fox can no longer

laugh.

As I lick clean my wrist, Vengeance, like the star-soul to his side,

falls

into a broken pile of wings and grief.

With a heavy heart, I know it. I lift my flute to my lips. I play, calling all—demon and angel—to me. My heart grieves.

I search for thoughts—anything to distract from the cumbersome emotions. At last, I find it.

…the humans have it wrong. The seven angels who foretell the coming of the Apocalypse play not trumpets. No new and brash instrument. We are musicians of our own making, each and every one of us carrying a relic of Power and Truth.

The humans have it wrong.

…mothers are not always loving…

Neither good nor evil must prevail.

The melody carries.

The tune I play carries far on the wind, and it echoes only in the hearts of those Reality bound Creatures of Light and Darkness. Humans who hear it pass into slumber, into the realm of dreams, where they are closer to Our realms than they believe. I call them all to me, and they Will answer…for the must.

I smile, and Deidara comes to my side, his hands empty.

The battle is decided.

tbc…