I extended the chapter a little bit as an apology for all the filler/slow movement in the last couple chapters, but fret not: another big battle is coming up next chapter. We'll have our fun, and eat it, too. What exactly is Tayuya's mission? Is Kankuro a Dark Lord of the Simps? Will there ever be a day where I know what I'm doing? All these questions, and more, will NOT be answered in the next episode of Dragon Ball Z!
Review response:
1. Noahendless: Yeah, it's weird. I still have the review you wrote as a notification in my email (and the conveniently-labeled "fanfiction" folder therein), but the website seems to have eaten it. I've even looked through the review list of earlier chapters, and it's just not showing up. And thanks for the worldbuilding comment, I feel like my worldbuilding attempt(s) in WTSIG were very ham-fisted and only vaguely thought out, so I'm trying a bit harder with it in this fic.
2. CygnusFang: Thank you, on both counts! It's a little weird for me as the author to refer to them as "the blondes," and I poke a little fun at it in this chapter, but I'm trying to set up a group dynamic. Or, maybe, assert that Naruto has a type. I think Hulasikali Wala was right, and this is one of THOSE worlds. Orochimaru's mission for Tayuya is top-secret, by which I mean I'm going to hold off on explaining it until a later chapter & then probably forget that I never explained it in the first place. But the important thing (as we can see by referencing the first chapter) is that it will all come back to bite him in the end.
3. TigrezzTail: Of course! He failed to bring Yuurei to his side, whether through force or through trickery, but he'd rather not deal with a homeless demon running amok and turning into his enemy. So, if he can't succeed with his hard sell (taking in Ayame), he'll do what he can to make a soft sale (placing Tayuya by Naruto's/Yuurei's side).
Let's get this trainwreck moving.
After a few days in the Sabaku family household, Yuurei stood once more in front of Gaara's room. With him were dozens of sheets of paper, an inkwell, a brush, and his ideas on how to proceed with his attempt at fixing the Ichibi Jinchuriki's demon containment seal. As the door swung open from inside once again, Gaara greeted his temporary housemate with a nod.
"True to your word. I can appreciate that." The redhead said monotonously.
"I never lie." Yuurei said, though there was no pride in those words. "Is now a good time?"
"As good as any." Gaara replied. "The seal is my tattoo."
Yuurei nodded, setting his materials down before he raised his right hand and touched the center of Gaara's seal with his index and middle fingers. Taking his left thumb, the blond cut open his wrist, and a mass of blood rushed out before the wound healed flawlessly. That blood flowed into Yuurei's inkwell, and he placed a layer of his chakra over Gaara's seal before withdrawing his hand. Then, taking his brush, he began to use his blood as an artistic medium; given that Gaara's seal was a far more traditional one than what Yugito bore on the back of her neck, no matter how poorly it may have been constructed, Yuurei would be forced to keep his improvisational Fuinjutsu methods to himself.
For the next hour, Yuurei constructed piece after piece of the seal he would place over Gaara's, until it was finally done. As the blood flowed in a circular pattern, condensing its power into a smaller frame, Yuurei lifted it off of the paper with his left hand before layering it over the sheet of chakra he'd placed on the redhead's brow. Then, with a physical touch, Gaara felt Yuurei's right hand push into his brain as the hand disappeared into the world of Shukaku's seal. Immediately, Yuurei sent his chakra further inward, and a sense of vertigo assaulted him as the scenery changed. Instead of a house, he stood on a flat bed of sand that stretched further than his eyes could see. Reclining lazily, Shukaku seemed not to care much about how strictly the flow of his youki would be controlled.
"So you've come, little demon." He said. "Might this be an ample time to fulfill a part of our bargain?"
"Certainly." Yuurei said. Withdrawing the separated section of black youki that had been given to him in the City of the Dead, Yuurei slashed through a portion of it and sent it toward the Ichibi. Though the power contained in that piece was something Matatabi had described to Yugito as having "unlimited potential," it was still only a moderate upgrade in strength for a full-fledged demon like any of the Biju were. Enough for Shukaku to cement his place as the strongest of them, once he refined and comprehended it, but far from enough for him to entertain the idea of claiming his father's throne in Makai.
"Don't think that I'm ungrateful. I recognize that you've done me a great kindness, so if you have need of my assistance in some way, just activate my host's seal. Not for something trivial, mind you, but..." The demon trailed off.
"No, I understand. If it would be a waste of time, I won't try to bother you." Yuurei said. "I'll be returning to finish my work on the seal, but I hope you enjoy what I've given you."
Before Shukaku could respond, Yuurei had vanished from the parameters of the seal, but the gigantic tanuki didn't mind very much. More important than any boredom-killing conversation, he had a piece of his father's legacy after more than ten thousand years. The black-and-tan demon was almost tempted not to refine it, and instead keep it as a nostalgic reminder of his far younger days, but he knew better than to do that. In fact, Shukaku practically welcomed the seal being reworked around him—it meant there was very little chance, compared to before, that any of his father's youki might blend with Gaara's keirakukei and strengthen the host instead of the Biju. But as he watched the Fuinjutsu effects taking place, his eyes running across the strings of seals that had faded into his prison from the outermost layer of Gaara's skin, the Ichibi couldn't stop his mild confusion. It seemed like the seal was airtight, at first glance, but there were a number of loopholes that could only have been made on purpose.
"I don't know what he's playing at..." Shukaku's voice rumbled, in spite of the fact that nobody could hear him. "...but he has some strange ideas about what's pertinent."
Meanwhile, in Gaara's room, both young men opened their eyes to look at one another.
"It's done?" Gaara asked, his piercing stare not affecting Yuurei in the slightest—something that, in turn, mildly unnerved the redhead.
"It is, but you don't need to thank me. I have my own designs, and I did it for my own reasons." Yuurei said. Spending time in Sunagakure, with Temari and Yugito in particular, had been teaching him to more carefully manage his words. As a child, presiding over other urchins as the Banchou, he had spoken freely from a position of authority; it was a hard thing to have to step back to equal footing and keep himself from making promises he'd rather not keep. "A follow-up won't be necessary. I did everything I needed to do."
Gaara nodded, at this point aware of what was coming next: Yuurei, leaving without another word, closing the door behind him as he left.
There was a deep sense of stillness in the desert, an unusual occurrence for Sunagakure in late October. Tayuya had crossed the distance from Otogakure to Kaze no Kuni in a week, and another day after that, she'd arrived in Sunagakure proper. To the question, "Did a one-eyed blond boy come this way?", she was pointed in the direction of the Kazekage's mansion on more than one occasion.
Of course, Tayuya thought. It was obvious. Where would the nukenin who needed to keep a low profile be? The most well-known building in the entire fucking city. Not letting her inner distaste show, she thanked those she asked and moved on. After a short walk, she arrived at the all-white home, inwardly preparing herself to see what lavish riches the generations of Kazekage had kept for themselves while their subjects continued to live in borderline poverty. It was well-known that Sunagakure's only notable source of income was the missions they received, which had been harder to come by as years passed and prospective clients took their business to Iwa or Konoha. And yet, the people of the desert continued to live independently.
Three sharp knocks rang out as Tayuya put her hand to the white clay-brick mansion's ironwood door, and after a few minutes of waiting, she found herself face-to-face with a black-clad teen boy who was clearly not meant to go far in polite society. From the vague cat ears of his jacket's hood, to the darker-than-blood paint that adorned his face, he was asking the world to understand that they needed to leave him alone. For his sake.
"Is Yuurei here?" She asked as politely as possible, even using his given name instead of a number of insults.
"If you're looking for a fight, please do it outside the village walls." Kankuro begged. To be honest, the only reason he kept answering the door was because his room was the closest to it, and he rarely left his room except to eat...or answer the door.
"No, I have a letter for him." Tayuya said, pulling the wax-sealed scroll from her belt.
"Oh. Yeah, he's here. Walk down the hallway and you'll find him." Kankuro said before heading back to his room.
Inwardly, Tayuya rolled her eyes. The last Kazekage had a kid like that? He'd raised his kid like that? Quietly, and following the puppeteer's vague directions, she hoped that the other two siblings weren't that anti-social. However, knowing full-well that one was a Jinchuriki and the other was the Kazekage, she didn't have high hopes.
"Yuurei." She said, arriving in the living room and seeing three blondes. Resisting the urge to classify them by their ponytails—wherein Yuurei's shaggy hair fell into the "zero" category, while Yugito had one and Temari had four—the skullcap-clad redhead folded her arms and looked at the lone man in the room.
"Tayuya?" Yuurei asked. "How the fuck did you find me?"
"You leave a...lasting impression. Even when civilians only meet you once." Tayuya said with a cynical tone, looking at the shirtless demon. He'd been here how long, and he still refused to replace the rags he'd been wearing since before she saw him in Nami no Kuni? What a fucking joke.
"I think she's on to something." Yugito said, completely ignoring the half-glare Yuurei sent her way.
"Not that I'm trying to bail him out," Temari said, "but why are you here?"
"I've got a letter for him." Tayuya answered, unceremoniously tossing the scroll to Yuurei.
The blond demon caught it effortlessly, somewhat curious; he was well aware of who Tayuya's allegiance belonged to, and the notion of Orochimaru having a message that needed to be delivered by one of the Sound Four...didn't sit well with him. Thumbing the wax seal off of the scroll with the same kind of ease someone could display when using a bottle opener to take off an aluminum cap, he pulled at one end to unfurl the message. Three women watched his expression as he read through the scroll's contents, before he let it roll shut and turned his gaze to Tayuya.
"You're aware of what it says?" He asked. His blood-red eye looked at the spot just above the bridge of Tayuya's nose, and the redhead felt like Yuurei was staring through her soul. Just because the wax seal remained on the scroll didn't mean that it hadn't been removed and replaced; despite his remaining allegiance to Konoha, or perhaps because of it, Orochimaru was incredibly duplicitous by nature. It wasn't unreasonable to assume that one of his closest subordinates didn't share that trait—not that it would fool Yuurei, whose superhuman nose could smell lies. Still, testing Tayuya's willingness to be honest was an important step for him to take. Knowing that eyes were on him, he placed the message into a storage seal, but his focus never left the eyes of the Oto-nin before him.
"I am." Tayuya answered, and Yuurei noted that the air around him hadn't changed. Whether that meant she'd looked through the scroll, or had been warned ahead of time, was irrelevant.
"Then make a deal with me." Yuurei said, his body radiating an unearthly heat as the ambient temperature dropped to uncomfortable depths.
Tayuya felt her heart stop as Temari gripped the chair she was sitting in, and Yugito felt the seal on the back of her neck seem to boil over with fire beneath her skin. The sound of Yuurei's three footsteps seemed to echo across eternity, each hollow snap of sandal-on-stone engraving an overwhelming sense of dread into all three women. As he moved forward, the chill in the air cut through their bodies like no weapon ever could. Imperiously, he stood in front of Tayuya, and the heat in his body was drawing her attention like no Genjutsu she'd ever fallen victim to.
"You will swear an oath to uphold this contract. Until all of its parameters are filled, you will follow its terms. And I...will provide." Yuurei offered his ruthless terms, watching the soft brown eyes of his quarry tremble.
Tayuya was a seasoned kunoichi, downright unshakable by the standards of most people; years in Orochimaru's service had shown her things that might make a lesser-willed woman break down irreparably. And yet, the presence of a demon had routinely been too much for her. She'd fled at a moment's notice on the night of Mizuki's death, she'd watched him slaughter mercilessly in his nine-tailed state, and now the weight of his aura was coercing her into a near-inescapable agreement where Yuurei would replace Orochimaru as her master. Every fiber of Tayuya's being screamed at her to refuse, to turn away, to take the message back and lie to Orochimaru that she hadn't found any trace of Yuurei. Better to take the devil you knew than the demon you didn't, she thought.
"I...I swear it." Tayuya said, betraying her misgivings in desperation.
Yugito assumed that the unearthly chill would remove itself, as it had done after she'd denied Yuurei when he offered her an option to escape, but the opposite came true: a light coating of frost began to slowly creep out through the floor, creating an uneven oval centered around Yuurei's body. Tayuya bent over, falling on all fours as a seal of toxic chakra began to manifest on the crux of her neck, and her body seemed to lock in place while she convulsed in pain. Temari curled up into a ball as she watched without blinking, while Yugito's gaze followed Yuurei as he sank to sit with her. A look of disdain was in the demon's eyes as he watched the spread of Tayuya's seal, but a low chuckle came from his throat before too long.
"I'm an honest lord and master." He said, watching as dark markings made their way across Tayuya's body. Iridescent youki bubbled up around the blond, seeming to coat him in a bubble of oil. "Behold: I will provide."
The heat from Yuurei's fingers relaxed Tayuya's muscles to the point of limpness, and he shifted her until she laid sideways in his arms with the seal facing up. With a care and tenderness that almost seemed to border on reverence, he craned his neck downward before lunging into a savage bite. Blood, chakra, and youki swirled in the small cavern of Yuurei's mouth, part of his power leaking into Tayuya as he drew the foul seal-work out of her body. Bit by bit, he devoured the Infuin no Kai that had plagued her body for years, until it was finally gone. Just as suddenly it had appeared, the frost on the ground vanished, and the warmth returned to the air. At the same time, Yuurei's youki withdrew back into the deep recesses of his viscera, and his chakra once again surged to replace it.
As Tayuya looked at Yuurei with something between fear, horror, and worship, the outward change in her body was plain to see: her eyes, once entirely brown, had a thin and jagged ring of red in them. All traces of her cursed seal had disappeared, replaced by four bite marks where Yuurei's canines had split her skin open. The healed wounds weren't quite a scar, and almost seemed to glow, but the weight of the action wasn't lost on Tayuya before she unceremoniously passed out.
"Is this your new hobby?" Yugito asked dryly, her gaze shifting between Yuurei and the unconscious redhead in his hands. "Putting seals on women and claiming them?"
"I took a seal off of her, thank you very much." Yuurei said, before his face screwed up in pain. "And it really fucking hurts. is this what it's like to have heartburn, acid reflux, and stomach ulcers? Because this is awful."
Turning to the side, Yuurei spat black mist out of his mouth that evaporated before it went above his head.
"Great googly moogly, that old bastard was right. No good turn ever goes unpunished." Yuurei continued to complain as he began to walk away, doing his best to simultaneously choke down and spit up the wisps of noxious vapor. "I think I'm going to need a day or so to, uh, figure this one out."
Temari and Yugito shared a knowing look, the former raising an eyebrow as the latter helplessly shook her head.
One by one, the days continued to pass, and Temari's sense of nervousness continued to rise. No matter how much she trained with Yuurei—and no matter how much her would-be advisors tried to impress upon her that her civic duties were more important than honing her personal strength—there was a deep sense of foreboding that she'd been trying and failing to put off. October bled its way into November, and the desert nights became more severe in their chill, but no amount of time could erase the fear that her days were numbered. Finally, the six weeks that Yuurei had made note of were gone, marking two months since the failed invasion of Konoha. Just before noon, the sound of drums rang through the air, and Temari's fingers went stiff as she prepared to go fight.
Beyond the walls, she knew, a three-village coalition had formed to destroy Sunagakure. After the weight of Suna's casualties in the invasion of Konoha, surpassed only by Iwagakure's total annihilation at the northern gate, the village of the desert-dwellers was in no shape to mount a counterattack. They had the resources to outlast a siege, but there was no hope for that situation to arise; either they would repel their attackers, or they would be killed to the last child. As she slipped on her breastplate and took hold of her war fan, though, she heard her door open.
"Why bother getting all dressed up? You won't be doing any fighting." Yuurei said from her doorway.
"What do you mean?" Temari asked. "What kind of Kage doesn't lead their ninja into battle?"
Yuurei's grin was savage, a short laugh coming from his lips that resounded softly in the corners of the white-clay room. Looking meaningfully at the slightly-older blonde, he couldn't help his amusement.
"I won't stop you if you want to watch the fun, but don't get caught in my backswing." He said, vanishing in a puff of smoke. From the beginning, he'd only been a Kage Bunshin. So, where was the real Yuurei?
Temari's eyes widened as she realized that there was only one place she'd find him: in the middle of the battlefield, taking on all comers. She didn't know if it was an overzealous attempt to fulfill his bargain with the Ichibi, or simple bloodlust, but she knew without looking that Yuurei had probably been waiting outside the village's walls for a fair amount of time.
Out in the desert, as he saw scores of shinobi approaching, Yuurei could only smile widely. After days of effort, he'd refined a pair of the teeth of Terramorphous, and he was excited to test the deadly weapons out in live combat. Once refined, the crystalline teeth were branded with his mark, unable to be used by anybody else unless they took the time to erase his refinement and start the process themselves. Though the process had once been a standard among ninja, preventing others from using their own weapons against them, the practice had fallen out of style—except in the cases of a few ronin and nukenin, of which Yuurei was one. Refinement also allowed certain items, even those not designed with chakra-conductive materials, to easily absorb and dispel the wielder's chakra.
As the approaching horde came closer, Yuurei merely waited, not even taking up a stance as he prepared for the human wave to crash into him.
