Sakura shivered at the list of demonic names, just reading them gave her chills, "So people used to worship all these demons?"
"Yes, but that's not what's important. You probably aren't experienced enough to know this, but further down on the scroll there's instructions on how to commune with the demons, and the ritual is almost exactly the same as a summoning jutsu."
Sakura was lost, "So that means what exactly?"
"I think that demons and summoning animals are the same thing"
"But then, why would we have two names for them?"
"I'm sorry, Sakura-san, I was being imprecise. I believe they are the same type of creatures with one defining difference. What we call summoning animals become 'demons' when they gain the ability to enter the human dimension without having to be summoned."
"Meaning…?"
Hanzo flicked her forehead, "Of all the things ancient civilizations tried to record, one thing was paramount: Their summoning contracts."
"So we can find those and cross reference them with the descriptions of that chain demon!"
"Don't get so excited, Sakura-san. It's a relatively small discovery, but it gets us one step closer to our goal."
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
She knew perfectly well that he couldn't move; yet Seraphim found herself checking in on Kisame more and more frequently. It was something about the way he looked at her from his prone position in his hospital bed, like he knew some great secret and was keeping it from her just for the sake of his own amusement.
She reached her hand towards the handle of his door, but suddenly retracted it when she heard movement from inside the room. It was an almost silent rustle; easily dismissed as that of shifting blankets, but Seraphim somehow knew was more than that.
Silently promising to pay the hospital back, she kicked in the door with her sword drawn, "Stop whatever you're doing!"
Kisame looked up from his small table, "Hey Seraph. Wanna join me for lunch?"
The shark man looked like he had barely managed to get from his bed to the table at the side of the room, and had a tray of almost edible looking hospital food in front of him.
"I thought you were trying to escape…" She said rather lamely.
Kisame looked pointedly at the door now embedded in the wall across from where it had until recently swung on its hinges, "Hmm, yeah, I noticed. I don't suppose it occurred to you that people very rarely go from mangled to completely healthy over the course of three hours." A sudden thought caused him to amend his previous statement, "Unless we were talking about Naruto, of course."
Seraphim pulled the door from where it had landed and examined it dejectedly, "This is going to cost a lot of money, and I'm not even getting paid for this so-called mission!"
A bite of what Kisame had decided to be plasti-egg vanished into his razor filled maw, "I'd like to say that I've been trying to make this whole ordeal easier for you."
Seraphim rolled her eyes, "Somehow I know how you're going to finish that sentence."
Kisame smirked, "I'd like to say it, but I'd be lying."
Seraphim impulsively dropped into the chair across from Kisame and leaned against the wall, her voice becoming airy with a forced feeling of casualness, "You really don't change, do you, Kisame?"
The man's expression turned wry "Not much, Seraph. I'm pretty much the same as I've always been."
She reached and scooped up some of his mashed potato on her finger, popping it into her mouth, "Bleh they actually feed you this crap?"
"It's not so bad once you get used to it."
"This tastes like sawdust, how could you get used to it?"
Kisame reached under the table and pulled out a bottle, "Just swish this around in your mouth for thirty seconds or so before you eat."
Seraphim blanched, "This is hot sauce… you wouldn't be able to taste anything after thirty seconds of swishing this around in your mouth."
"Exactly." He said as he took another bite of the plasti-egg.
"Somehow I don't think I'll ever understand you…"
Kisame continued to eat until his tray was clean of anything resembling food, then lay back in his contentedly "This may seem random, but have you ever regretted teaching me?"
Seraphim blinked. That was random.
"No…"
"Really? Even when I used the skills you taught me to become a nukenin?"
"I trusted you to make the right decision, and so I have always had faith that for you, becoming a nukenin was the right decision. Besides, you put fear back into the corrupt government of water country, so hidden mist might be better off this way."
Kisame looked at the ceiling, "Better off, huh?"
/-/-/-/Flashback/-/-/-/
It was the beginning of winter, and there was just a hint of a chill in the air. A light wind blew over a large crowd of people, in which a young Seraphim stood in awe of the stage set up in the center square of the village.
The Mizukage was making a speech of some kind, but she was fully focused on the men who stood behind him. They were a newly established organization that stood above even the ANBU, and embodied the power of their village. They were the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist.
She knew all of their faces, and had even worked with a couple of them on missions, but they now seemed somehow more impressive, as if they became more powerful simply by virtue of now being: 'One of the Seven Swordsmen'.
The Mizukage finished his speech and her father stood up to say a few words, after which there was the obligatory applause and the seven filed off stage.
The crowd started to disperse and Seraphim made her way around to where her father was talking with a couple of the Seven in a small tent. A small group of people (mostly girls) had remained behind in hopes of meeting some of the legendary swordsmen, and so Seraphim stayed near the edge of the group.
Normally she would have gone and joined her father in his discussion, but she didn't want to have to dig through fangirls to get there. Letting her eyes wander, she caught sight of movement near the back of the tent, where it looked like someone had just ducked out.
Lacking anything better to do, she ducked out herself and ran along the outside edge of the tent until she caught sight of a man's back, "Hey you!"
He ignored her, which only spurred her on. "Hey, I'm talking to you! Yes, you!"
Seraphim wasn't able to see the man's eyebrow twitch, but twitching it was, "Go away, woman."
"Hey… You're Hoshigaki… Why are you out here?"
He turned to glare at her, and she got her first good look at his face, "People piss me off, so I'm going to where there aren't any people."
He had now succeeded in pissing her off, "Don't be such a jackass! Next to being Mizukage, you were just given the highest honor available in the hidden mist, so the least you can do is be at least a littlegrateful!"
Kisame now turned fully round to face her, "Grateful? That's a riot, especially coming from you. Don't think I don't know who you are, girlie. You're Szark's little princess daughter who's probably never even been in a real fight, so screw off before I get mad."
Inside the tent, still chatting, Szark felt a disturbingly familiar chakra flare up seconds before explosions were heard.
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
That night, Kisame and Seraphim got to share a cell.
She picked up a small chunk of broken concrete and threw it at him, "This is your fault, you know."
"How could this be, in any possible way, my fault? YOU attacked ME."
"You provoked me."
"I provoke people all the time, but most of them don't go crazy and attack me."
Seraphim tried to swing at him, but a pain in her side flared up and she just landed on her face.
Kisame whistled, "Got you good, didn't I?"
She groaned slightly, "I'll admit that you're pretty strong for a fuckwad."
"Your not so bad yourself… for a psychotic bitch."
Managing to get herself seated comfortably against the wall, Seraphim laughed, "I'll take that as a compliment. But really, how did you get chosen to be one of the seven?"
"What are you talking about? I got in because I'm strong."
"Maybe, but your strategic skills are barely Genin level." She kicked his ankle for emphasis, and enjoyed watching him flinch.
"You nicked me, so what?"
"There was an opening in your defenses. Your sword skills are near flawless, but you're open to attacks from things like," she kicked his ankle again, "kunai."
"Still, the woman who got her side sliced shouldn't be lecturing me."
"I'm not lecturing, I'm just pointing out that someone as strong as you has such an easily fixable weakness, yet you don't do anything about it."
Kisame waved his hand dismissively, "If it was such an easy weakness to overcome, my teachers would have taught me by now."
Even as Kisame said the words, a seed of doubt had been planted inside him, and Seraphim was having similar thoughts. It was extremely strange for someone like Kisame to have such an obvious chink in his defenses, particularly when all his other skills were off the charts.
The woman continued to consider this conundrum and looked out through the bars into the small cellblock contained in the basement of the police station. The two of them could easily break out of jail if they wanted to, but they stayed inside, in the same way that children go to their room when told, shinobi stay in jail when ordered to so as to acknowledge authority.
She was struck by realization and looked back at Kisame, "Authority…"
The man blinked, "What?"
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
The next morning, they were let out of their cell and made a great show of snubbing each other and stomping off in different directions, but that night, they met in a clearing just outside the village wall.
They continued to meet like that every night, and took only a week to discover that Seraphim's darkest suspicions had been correct. It took almost no time at all for Kisame to overcome some of his greatest weaknesses, and he soon fixed all the holes in his defense. They trained to exhaustion every night, and while the purpose was to help Kisame, Seraphim found that her own blade skills were being sharpened as well.
After a month, they progressed from simple combat tactics to small group and large-scale tactics, yet more areas where Kisame was horribly lacking. Contrary to his muscle-man image, he absorbed information like a sponge, progressing faster than almost anyone Seraphim had ever seen.
They went through massively complex theoretical battle situations of all types, and once the strategies were explained, Kisame never once made a mistake.
As they worked more and more, both Seraphim and Kisame had to face what they had first discussed in that cell all those months ago. It was now clear that Kisame's training had been flawed, and not unintentionally.
Seraphim estimated that ever since the age of thirteen, Kisame's teachers had been crippling him by leaving out large portions of training that all shinobi are supposed to have. After four months of the two training together, the cause of this became blindingly obvious.
The higher ups in the village were afraid of him, and with good reason. He had only months ago been the weakest of the seven swordsmen, and on a fresh day near the beginning on spring; he made a declaration before the Mizukage.
Zabuza and Sage, ranked fifth and sixth in strength as far as the seven swordsmen went, were out on missions, so Kisame challenged the other four to face him in combat. The Mizukage figured it would at least make a good spectacle, so he allowed Kisame alone to take on the top four of the seven swordsmen all at once.
It was indeed a spectacle; and a large portion of the village watched as Kisame calmly and methodically obliterated them.
The village council and Mizukage watch in horror as more than ten years of conspiracy were blown away like dust in the wind as the top four shinobi in the village were publicly thrashed.
Szark, who, although not involved, had known about the councils intentional limiting of Kisame's power, felt a sinking feeling in his belly as he watched his daughter smile triumphantly as the battle unfolded.
Over the next few months, Kisame and Seraphim started to spend time together publicly, and whispers started to spread. They seemed like the last two people on earth to become friends, let alone more than friends, but even Szark had to admit that when they weren't trying to kill each other, they got along well.
Many questioned Seraphim's taste, but everyone said it was only a matter of time before the two of them took their relationship to the next level.
Unfortunately, fate had other plans.
It was exactly a year after the formation of the seven swordsmen, and the Mizukage was hosting a dinner in their honor, but this day was especially important for Kisame.
It was a day off for most shinobi, so Seraphim slept until noon, only to be woken up by someone shaking her enthusiastically, "What the… Kisame? What happened to your hands!"
Kisame's hands were wrapped in bandages, but he paid them no mind and moved to one side so he could hold something up for her to see, "It's called Samehada. It was just finished this morning."
Still sleepy, she reached out and poked the strange blade with her finger, "Man, your brother is really something; this looks like one hell of a sword."
"I haven't really tested it out yet, but I can use it to absorb chakra."
"Amazing. Now let me sleep."
Kisame sighed amusedly as Seraphim rolled over in bed and pointedly ignored him, "Fine, then, but I assume you will remember to get up in time to go to the dinner tonight?"
"I won't forget, so let me sleep or I'll hurt you."
Kisame stuck his tongue out at her but grabbed Samehada and made his way over to the door, "You better get in time, or I'm going to tip you out of bed."
He slipped out the door just in time to avoid a thrown pillow and vaulted over her apartment railing on the slightly wet ground below.
Having a brand new sword, Kisame was faced with the constant temptation to try it out on things, and had to fight said temptation constantly as he wandered through the village. Finally deciding that he was going to go crazy if he couldn't smash something, Kisame made his way to one of the jounin training fields.
The field was empty, so Kisame stretched out his arms and lifted Samehada one handed up to shoulder level while keeping his arm fully extended. He could definitely feel the difference in weight from his old sword, and he was going to suck in combat until he could compensate.
He was just about to take his first swing when he heard the grass rustle behind him, "Oi, fish-for-brains, you got a minute?"
"That depends, Zabuza. What do you want me for?"
The devil of the mist shoved his hands in his pockets, "I'm not generally a helpful person, Kisame, but I figure you're the least idiotic of the people around here, so I'm going to give you a little warning."
Kisame shifted his sword from his right hand to his left, "A warning about what?"
"The Mizukage received word of your new sword being finished and immediately called a special council meeting. They're in there right now discussing whether to have you assassinated in your sleep."
There was a dull thumb as Samehada hit the ground, having fallen from Kisame's now limp hand.
Zabuza looked at the fallen sword with mild interest, "Hmm… that new blade of yours does look first rate, I can see why the Mizukage is in a panic. Oh, and of course, if anyone asks, we never had this conversation."
Zabuza's image blurred and he vanished with a 'poof', leaving Kisame alone in the training field. The shark man just stood there, unmoving; his brain devoting all it's power to figuring out what he was supposed to do now.
Even he had never dreamed the council would go so far as to order him killed, but Zabuza had no reason to deceive him and as he thought about it, he really wouldn't put anything past a council that had conspired for years just to keep him weak.
As the day passed, he continued to stand in the same spot, and after almost three hours of no movement, he reached down and grasped Samehada by the hilt, "So they think they can kill me, do they?"
He held the sharkskin blade in the air, and couldn't help but notice that there was no sign of the heaviness from earlier. He smiled then, and his smile slowly widened into the malevolent and slightly manic grin for which he would, from that day on, be famous.
"We'll see who kills who!"
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
He arrived to pick her up at the agreed time, but Seraphim couldn't help but feel that there was something wrong with Kisame as they went to the dinner. His eyes seemed cold and distant, like his mind was somewhere else.
They split up at the entrance to the dinning hall since Kisame had to go sit at the table for the seven swordsmen and Seraphim was expected to sit at the head table with her father.
Kisame sat and took in the room; everyone here was a potential enemy, waiting to spear him when he was least expecting…
Poke
He almost jumped out of his chair as he felt a poke in his side and looked down. A small girl was poking him in the side, apparently oblivious to his anxiety. He grabbed her arm and she looked up at him innocently, "Hello, Kisame-sama."
Zabuza sat down on the other side of the little girl, "Don't be a nuisance, Mako."
"Awww… But I wanna play with Kisame-san!"
"You have to be quiet now, but I'll let you swim in the lake after, okay?"
Mako carefully considered her uncle's offer in her unique six-year-old way, "Wai! Swimming!"
The Mizukage stood up and started to talk. In fact, most of what the Mizukage did was talk, to the point where that became his primary skill. This was the type of thing Seraphim pondered as he made his speech.
She glanced at Kisame and a shiver went down her spine. His eyes looked so cold compared to usual, there was none of the fire his eyes usually concealed. She resolved to talk to him about it later and was just about to look away when she heard a sudden grating cough.
The little girl next to Kisame spewed out a stream of milk that engulfed her entire table, and thus, the seven swordsmen of the mist.
Mako coughed a few more times as Zabuza patted her on the back. Once she caught her breath she looked up at the milk drenched swordsmen, "Sorry…"
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
From that day on, it felt to Seraphim like Kisame was drifting farther and farther away from humanity. He had always been a loner, but now she was the only one in the village who ever saw him.
He spent the majority of his time practicing with Samehada on the outskirts of the village and would rarely give her more than two or three word responses, when he would talk to her at all.
He sunk deeper and deeper into himself, until the first day of spring, 15 months after they had met, when he told her to meet him in the third training field at midnight.
She approached the pitch-black clearing with a sense of trepidation, not sure what to expect, but Kisame was just standing in the middle of the field casually leaning Samehada against his shoulder.
He looked over to her as she approached and smiled his first real smile in months, "I'm glad you came, Seraph."
"What are you up to, Kisame! I know you, and you're planning something big."
"Don't talk, Seraphim, just listen. Tonight is the last time we're ever likely to see each other, so I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. You've been good to me, and next few days will be hard on you, but as it turns out, all I can say is sorry."
"Hey wait… you can't just say something like that and…" Kisame was gone, and Seraphim was left alone in the field.
The next morning, ANBU broke her door down, "Ikana Seraphim, we are sorry to intrude, but under orders of the Mizukage, we are taking you into custody as the last known person to see Hoshigaki Kisame, who as of 27 minutes ago, is registered as a missing-nin of the hidden mist."
/-/-/-/End Flashback/-/-/-/
Seraphim started to get uneasy as Kisame continued to stare at the ceiling, and was about to call for a nurse when he suddenly broke out of his reverie, "Do you remember what I told you the last time we saw each other in hidden mist?"
"Of course, you said you were sorry."
Kisame lowered his gaze so he was looking at her again, "I hate to say this Seraph, but I need to apologize again."
"For what? You haven't done anything this time. In fact, you've made my father happier than he's been in ages…"
As she was speaking, some part of Seraphim's brain realized something rather significant. Kisame's eyes weren't focused quite as one would expect.
He wasn't looking at her, but past her.
She instinctually pivoted, and realized her mistake nanoseconds too late as she was entranced by two burning red orbs in what was otherwise a suddenly pitch black room.
She collapsed in a heap and Kisame hopped up from his chair, snapping off his casts.
"Thanks, Itachi. Lets roll."
"Did we really have to delay our escape by six days?"
"Yeah, I had some things that I had to ask."
"This woman makes you unusually emotional." Itachi observed coolly.
"That's true," Kisame conceded as he pulled on his shirt, "She makes me act irrationally and go against my better judgment; even to the point of delaying our escape."
He paused to pull on his shoes; "She makes me lose my cool and leaves my emotions in a mess. Put succinctly, she completely screws me up."
Kisame took a moment to admire his now fully clothed form in the mirror, and then strode past the Uchiha towards the doorless door, "And if you're really lucky Itachi, someday you'll meet someone who will do the same for you."
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
They had been running to the point of collapse, but Naruto watched the gathering storm and knew they weren't going to make it. He wasn't sure about exactly what was following them, but he knew they weren't going to escape it.
Or at least, he wasn't.
He grabbed Temari's arm, "Stop."
"What! You almost made me fall!"
"How far are we from hidden sand?"
"About… eight hours, I'd guess."
Naruto looked at the ground, "Eight hours… the only way either of us is going to survive this is if you go on without me."
Temari whacked him upside the head; "I am not leaving you here just so you can be heroic."
"I'm not suggesting it to be heroic! I'm saying it's the only way we are going to survive. With the help of Gaara and some sand-nin, we might stand a chance against what's after me, but not otherwise."
"So then what are you going to do until I get back with help?"
Naruto smiled easily, "I'm going to wait for you."
She grabbed a clump of his hair and kissed him roughly, "You better stay alive!"
"No problem, I promise."
Temari ran into the desert night with a new vigor, and Naruto watched her go with mixed feelings. Even at his most optimistic, he had maybe two hours before whatever it was got to him. It was eight hours to hidden sand, and then another eight back, so he would have to hold his ground for fourteen straight hours.
He collapsed on his back and looked up at the moon.
"I'll try to keep my promise Temari," he covered his eyes with one hand, "I'll try with everything I have, but…"
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
An hour and ten minutes later, Temari passed through another village and decided she had to eat something. As much as she wanted to keep running, she knew she would collapse without sustenance.
The first thing she saw was a ramen stand, so she stumbled in and demanded a bowl of pork ramen as fast as it could be made. She lay her head on the counter and looked hazily at the man next to her, "Hey…mister… what's this place called?"
"What?"
"This town, what's it called?"
"It's called Ocean, but are you alright?"
Temari laughed semi-deliriously, "Ha! A place in the desert called ocean… but I need to remember: an hour south of ocean… an hour south of ocean… an hour south of ocean."
The man rubbed his head, "Miss, I really think you should go to a hospital or something."
Her pork ramen arrived and Temari grabbed the bowl and left the stand.
The owner looked stunned, "Hey! That's my bowl! And you didn't pay for the ramen!"
Temari looked back, "Charge it to hidden sand!"
At the other end of the ramen bar, a man sat perplexed as Temari ran off.
Had she really not recognized him? Was she playing dumb as part of some plan? Was she on some kind of drug?
The more he thought, the more confused he got, but he figured he had one clue.
"An hour south, huh?"
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
Naruto opened his eyes and sat up, "How long have you been there?"
Fifty feet away, Szark smiled, "Oh, just a couple minutes."
"Awfully considerate of you to let me sleep."
"I came all this way to fight you, Naruto-kun, not kill you," he smiled wider, "though I can't promise I won't."
Naruto stood up and reached into his mind, "Alright, bastard fox. If there was ever a time to fight your hardest, this is it!"
To his surprise, the response was both immediate and strong, "I WILL."
The fox seemed really riled up; the last time Naruto remembered him being this energetic was when he fought Gaara.
His hand suddenly clenched around Seirei Kirite's handle, "Impossible…"
Szark threw his staff to one side and formed a single seal; "I hope you won't mind, Naruto-kun, if I start off at full power. And by full power, I of course mean," his eyes suddenly narrowed, "LEVIATHAN!"
Chakra exploded outward and Szark watched as Naruto struggled to fight against the waves of blue energy with disappointment, "I may have vastly overestimated you, Naruto-kun, if you can't even stand up to a little raw chakra."
With a sigh of annoyance, Szark drew a kunai and vanished in a blur, appearing behind the boy and driving it towards his skull. The old man was more than surprised to hear the clang of metal on metal.
The old man was suddenly blown back and dug his feet into the sand as a vortex of crimson chakra consumed the boy.
Naruto looked at him with unholy fire in his eyes, "DON"T FUCK WITH ME, OLD MAN! There's no way Itachi and Kisame would have lost to that kind of pathetic strength."
Szark looked delighted, "Wonderful, Naruto-kun! This will be even more fun than I imagined."
The boy's voice had a demonic edge to it, "I suppose now you're going to show me your 'full power'?"
"Hardly. I wouldn't be much of a shinobi unless I kept a few tricks in reserve, but then again, I'm not much of a swordsman without a sword, now am I?"
Saying this, he rolled up his right sleeve, revealing a complex tattoo that the blue chakra seemed to condense on. The tattoo suddenly glowed bright red and there was a poof of smoke, which blew away almost immediately to reveal the largest sword Naruto had ever seen.
His response was therefore appropriate, "Damn… that's a big sword."
"It's called Gyakuryuu, and I haven't used it in combat for seven years now, so this is quite an event for me."
"You didn't use that thing on Itachi and Kisame?"
"I didn't need to. Whether you intended to or not, Naruto-kun, you have chosen the perfect battlefield to face me on."
"How do you mean?"
"Leviathan can control water, so with his help it's easy to surround my feet with an inch thick bubble that allows me to move at three or four times my normal speed, but here…"
Naruto grinned, "No water… and any you did accumulate on your feet would be sucked up by the sand."
"So it would appear," Szark said as he hefted the massive bastard sword, "that our speeds are now almost even."
Naruto knew he was still slower, but now had built up some confidence. Szark was not invincible, and from the way the blue and red chakra vortexes were pushing against each other, the old man was about even with him in chakra capacity as well.
Unfortunately, the boy knew he was vastly inferior with regards to technique, so if he was going to hold out, he would have to attack hard, fast, and when Szark was least expecting it. If fact, with the old man's eyes closed and him looking rather out of it, right then seemed like a pretty good time.
He burst forward and adjusted his hand grip for an upwards cross cut.
Szark opened one eye, "Foolish."
He brought the massive blade to bear faster than Naruto would have though possible, so fast in fact, that Naruto could barely follow its trail. He was only more confused though, once he did see its trail.
Even with its size, the sword was moving so fast it was going to complete its swing before he was in the strike zone; in other words, it was going to miss him. Naruto enjoyed a moment of bliss before he realized that an opponent of this caliber wasn't likely to make such a mistake.
Szark's single open eye narrowed to a slit and pulsed with dark light, "Kamaitachi!"
Unable to even think of evasion, Naruto ran headlong into the shockwave and was sent hurling backwards, slamming into a sand dune with a dull crunch.
Naruto pulled himself out of the sand, "Well, that wasn't a very good idea… and with a name like Gyakuryuu… I wasn't even thinking."
Szark smiled amiably again, "To define it, Gyakuryuu is a stretch of turbulent water in a river or the sea caused by one current flowing into or across another current."
"In other words," Naruto coughed and spit out some blood, "a Riptide."
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
Author's Notes:
Well, AnimeFest was a blast, although I was so tired that I pretty much slept through school last week.
'Dorklotus' included a pancake recipe in his review for the previous chapter. I just happened to read that particular review on Saturday morning, and having nothing better to do, made pancakes. They were quite tasty.
I also received an email with a great picture from 'Reighost', can be found at
htt p/groups .msn .com/NarutoMangaReturns/picturegirlalbum.msnw?action(equalsign)ShowPhoto&PhotoID(equalsign)11924
(Link fixed. Obviously, remove the spaces and make the equalsign's into actual equal signs)
/-/-/-/First Omake/-/-/-/
The Specs of Gyakuryuu (Riptide)
A twelve-foot bastard sword, having an eight-foot blade and four-foot handle, Gyakuryuu stands as the largest weapon in my Narutoverse.
Bastard swords are designed and weighted to be usable with one or two hands (Primarily with two), a fact that shouldn't change as you increase the size, making them extremely versatile as far as swords go. They have straight double-edged blades and are a kinf of hybrod between a long swrod and two-handed sword. Initialy, I mistakenly refered to bastard sword as as being another name for long sword, which, after further research, I have discovered is untrue. (Today we learn that Wikipedia is not always right)
Gyakuryuu gets its name from the fact that if swung at a specific angle and with sufficient velocity, a vacuum is created directly behind the blade, which in turn creates powerful and turbulent winds.
Designed to catch its victims off guard, Gyakuryuu is a weapon to be feared.
/-/-/-/Second Omake/-/-/-/
This is actually how I first wrote this scene, but I realized as soon as I was finished that it was way to silly:
Saying this, he rolled up his right sleeve, revealing a complex tattoo that the blue chakra seemed to condense on. The tattoo suddenly glowed bright red and there was a poof of smoke, which blew away almost immediately to reveal the largest sword Naruto had ever seen.
His response was therefore appropriate, "Damn… that's a big sword."
"It's called Gyakuryuu, and I haven't used it in combat for seven years now, so this is quite an event for me…"
"But seriously," Naruto said blankly, "that's a REALLY big sword… how do you even swing it?"
Szark's eyebrow twitched, "As I was saying: Few have ever seen its blade, let alone had the honor of facing it in comba…"
"I mean…" Naruto interrupted, "It's just so big! Seirei Kirite is a pretty good size, but that thing is just excessive! I see why you keep it sealed, because I sure wouldn't want to walk down the street carrying that thing. It's huge… like, Godzilla sized… or maybe it's the Megazord sword from power rangers."
Szark's patience snapped, "STOP TALKING OVER ME!"