A triumphant return! I hope this chapter finds you well, my friends.

Review response:

1. Noahendless: The Speargod is a single entity that spans the multiverse, and is only one of...four such entities in the multiverse. Strictly speaking, WTSIG Naruto/the Crusader could kill the Speargod (as well as the Great Darkness, the All-in-One, and the as-yet-unmentioned Sultan of Dreams) with moderate ease; he's the strongest existence in the multiverse by a country mile. If he did that, though, he would have to take their place—and after the things Orochimaru did to him, one story and thousands of years ago, the Crusader is pretty attached to his freedom.

2. TigrezzTail: Lovecraftian horror would be what I'm referring to; love the work, hate the author. And that hall full of Shinigami...a universe for every god of death, and a death for every universe. The beginning and the middle may be uncertain, but the ending was certain before it began.

Let's get this trainwreck moving.


In Mizu no Kuni's boundless floodplains, the warming grip of late winter still left a cool chill in the air. Without warning, five people spilled out of an invisible rip in the world's fabric; while Yuurei landed flat on the crown of his skull, staring at his point of emergence with a total lack of emotion, the women who followed him were much luckier. Mei landed on her feet while Fu fell into a handspring that left her upright, and Tayuya cradled Yugito's body as they slid across the grass for a short distance.

Yugito coughed twice, unable to eliminate a deep itch in her throat, but that was all the time she had to herself. An unfamiliar pair of lips pressed themselves against hers—at least twice, and maybe even three times, as their owner seemed incapable of controlling her breath—and tears began to fall onto her cheeks. Overcome with emotion, Tayuya didn't even think about stopping herself; the redhead only pulled herself away when she felt Yugito's fingers brushing her spine. Looking down at Yugito's confused expression, Tayuya slumped off of the blonde's prone body and wiped her eyes.

"I, I...uh, ugh..." All of a sudden, Tayuya failed to form words. The witty pseudo-demoness, it seemed, had lost her tongue.

As Mei and Fu helped their fallen companions up from the ground, Yuurei took the dead Shinigami's knife out of his mouth and looked at it. Simple in its construction, the single-edged blade gave off an ominous feeling. The longer he looked at it, the more that Yuurei could swear that he smelled the tanto's steel in the air; though his youki began to recede, and chakra swelled inside his meridians to take its place, Yuurei was unperturbed. Blood pooled in the demon's mouth as he bit his tongue, and that blood was quickly arranged into a small storage seal on the underside of his wrist. With a satisfied look on his face, Yuurei sealed the Shinigami's tanto away.

That storage seal took the shape of a tattoo—a bloody circle that encapsulated the symbol of death. Without a second thought, Yuurei also sealed away the dead monster's severed head. Rolling off of his head before flipping himself upright, the blond demon waited patiently as Yugito was besieged by a warm and unexpected welcome. Though Mei had only briefly met the former Jinchuriki, she was under no illusions about how important Yugito was to anybody else present. Even Fu, who had historically been reclusive in the time since she'd joined Yuurei's motley crew, had an exuberant expression on her face.

For the Nanabi Jinchuriki, shunned by the people she'd grown up with, Yugito was someone who understood her predicament. They'd forged a strong friendship over their shared hardships—namely that they were powerful women in a world driven by men. Even if Fu wasn't entirely certain about her attitude towards Yuurei, the company he kept had been good enough to keep the mint-haired woman around. Even Sai and Ayame, whose mutual primary character trait seemed to be an obsession with obeying Yuurei's orders, hadn't been terrible conversationalists. Not like the war demon she'd chosen to follow in a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Of course, that was because her lasting first impression of Yuurei had been his own impulsive choice: to bury Takigakure by way of a flooded cave-in. Though the blond demon was hardly a pacifist by nature, he'd made attempts with past opponents to settle matters without bloodshed; Fu merely had the misfortune of meeting him at a bad time. During a certain point in their formative years, demons were briefly overtaken by bloodlust—and that period in Yuurei's life had begun after killing a band of mercenaries who were hired to kidnap Fu.

It was several long seconds before Yugito caught a break from the joy her companions felt. All the while, Yuurei hadn't said a word. Standing a short distance away, the demon had crossed his arms over his solar plexus; as his Sharingan closed, Yuurei gave a bloodshot stare with his natural eye.

"You had no idea what you were doing," Yugito accused.

"Maybe not, but I did it for you." The demon's response wasn't thought out, only a blank statement. "Just like I would have done it for them."

Having spoken, Yuurei walked forward. The long strides of his still-growing body carried him to his destination in short steps; looking down at Yugito, he realized he'd had a small growth spurt since Yugito had died. When they'd first met, he was tall enough that her eyebrows had been on an even level with her chin. Now, if he were to stand straight, her eyes would meet the base of his throat. That wasn't the only thing that had changed, though—the faint aura of a captive demon had solidified around Yugito's body. Somehow, between her beheading and Yuurei unsealing a road to hell, the Nibi had vanished or died.

Yugito and Yuurei were now the same kind of existence: demons in mortal bodies, waiting for an opportunity to solidify their strength.

"Even after I died, I couldn't get away from you, huh? This seal is in bad taste," Yugito said. Though the enslavement seal on her neck had shrunken, it had never broken—not even in death. That was a strange, if not unheard of, phenomenon.

"What's mine is mine, and I keep what I steal," Yuurei asserted. Pulling his fellow blonde into his chest, the red-eyed demon felt a weight lift off of his shoulders as he felt the warmth of Yugito's skin. He'd carried her lifeless body for a month and a half, but that had been an obligation. When the smaller woman gently wrapped her arms around his back, Yuure's relief was almost tangible.

"We're only an hour from Kirigakure," Mei noted. "Perhaps we can hold a more appropriate celebration there?"

As the country's thin mist curled around them, Yuurei and Yugito separated. Though it was good to have Yugito back, they couldn't afford to only focus on one thing at a time.


"You must be joking," Yuurei said.

Before they'd gotten a stone's throw from Kirigakure, a group of ninja that he vaguely recognized as former rebels had arrived to greet them. Specifically, they'd come to greet Mei—but these men were well aware of the power that Yuurei and his companions held. Though there was no fanfare upon their arrival, crowds of people roamed the streets. Yuurei walked as he always did, moving at a languid pace that practically invited danger. Who here would dare attack him? Regardless of whether those ninja in the crowd had been rebels or loyalists, they knew the strength he held.

Before anything else, their group of five had been ushered to the Hall of Heroes, where they now stood in front of a giant golden statue. This statue depicted Mei and Yuurei standing in solidarity, supporting one another as a show of strength; what Yuurei found difficult to believe was that each and every one of his scars had been sculpted out of the metal, and filled with glistening sapphires that smoothed out to the surface. The visage of gold skin and blue wounds touched a nerve in the back of Yuurei's head, though he couldn't quite figure out where that feeling of sacrilege was coming from.

"I know what you mean. My dress isn't that—" Mei said, before being interrupted.

"Yes it is," Tayuya said with a glare.

"Keep looking, sweetheart." Mei smiled devilishly as she spoke, looking the diminutive redhead right in her eyes. While Mei was only slightly taller than Yugito, and her head would rest comfortably underneath Yuurei's chin, the same couldn't be said for Tayuya; the former member of the Otoyon would barely reach Mei's shoulder if they stood back-to-back, and remained utterly dwarfed by the demon she called 'master.' Adding insult to injury, it was unlikely that she would grow any taller.

"Don't mind if I do," Tayuya shot back, only to fume as the taller redhead winked playfully.

Fu wasn't quite certain when all this tension had developed between the two women—who she referred to as the short and tall volcanoes, in private conversations with Choumei—but she decided that they needed a room to themselves. Whether they would try to ravage or ravish one another was both indeterminate and irrelevant; between Tayuya's odd brand of sexism and Mei's unearthly allure, there was plenty of cause for either option.

"Don't fight," Yuurei said, only to feel two sets of eyes turn to the back of his head.

"Mind your business, Yuurei," Tayuya replied.

"Please stay out of this, dear," Mei added.

Looking at Yugito, the demon couldn't help raising his eyebrows. The blonde pair had been present when Tayuya's vague animosity for Mei had been born, but each had their own theory as to why. Yuurei, whose taste for the pleasures of the flesh only extended as far as the taste of flesh, thought that the shorter woman was jealous; of what, he couldn't say. For Yugito, on the other hand, the answer was obvious—and made all the more entertaining by Yuurei's seals and oaths. The heterochromatic blonde was both older and more worldly than her master, and when she saw Tayuya's reactions to Mei, she could only come to one conclusion: Tayuya didn't know how to admit to herself that she was attracted to Mei.

"Whatever you say," Yuurei replied to the two women with a meaningful tone.


Without so much as a sigh, Kabuto fell back into a chair that he didn't remember being in this operating room. How long had it been? How many days had passed while he studied and acted? He didn't know, and he didn't care.

"It's done." The words came shortly before the grey-haired medic closed his eyes and promptly passed out. This series of consecutive surgeries had drained Kabuto to his absolute limits, but he believed it was worth it; Ayame's reconfigured body would be his magnum opus, the unsurpassable testament to his skill. Without a single reservation, he believed that.

Three hearts were now beating inside of Ayame's chest, courtesy of Sakon and Ukon. Jirobo's meridians mirrored the young brunette's own, and served as the main focal points that allowed her keirakukei to overlap with Tsunade's. Lastly, Kidomaru's glands that produced venom and silk had respectively been placed inside her teeth and gums. Though calling her something as asinine as a 'super soldier' was a bit much, there was no denying her potential. Though Ayame's brutal efficiency was unquestionable, she was rather plain as ninja went. Under ordinary circumstances, based on her natural skills, any village would have considered her among their top Chunin before she went to Kirigakure.

Once she learned how to properly wield her new powers, Ayame's full strength would be somewhat higher than a typical Jounin. And, if Orochimaru were to train her with the same religious fervor that had possessed Jiraiya to take the Yondaime Hokage under his tutelage, there was no telling what she could accomplish. As the Byahebi himself walked into the room, having heard Kabuto's proclamation from the hallway outside, Ayame began to stir.

"How are you feeling?" The White Snake asked, mild concern in his voice as he gave the operating room a once-over glance. "Any pain, numbness, nausea? Kabuto's skills are impeccable, but some people react worse than others."

"I feel fine, but...different, if that makes sense?" Ayame responded with a question of her own.

"Sai didn't tell me the details, but you've been in a coma for two months. Whatever blow you took, your breastplate was ruined, so I took the liberty of procuring a new one for you," Orochimaru said.

"And...the changes in my body?" Ayame had no frame of reference for what she was feeling, but she felt as if she was bursting with vitality. Even without molding her internal energy into chakra, she could feel how much stronger her keirakukei had become.

"You are the only surviving member of the Sound Four. Kabuto tore the others' bodies apart in order to heal you, so you'll have to thank him for whatever...additions...he made." Orochimaru's gaze turned to the unconscious medic, wondering just how much he'd overdone it.

Ayame only nodded at this information. The last thing she remembered was fighting in Kirigakure; Zabuza's chakra fog had rolled in, and he'd said something about targets...followed by a pain in her chest, and then nothing. Whether it was her armor that had kept her alive, or pure luck, she wasn't sure. As someone who was content to hedge her bets, though, she'd guess it was a little bit of both.

Inside of Ayame's chest, she felt two extra heartbeats, and noted how much slower those heartbeats were coming. Without any extra blood, those hearts had a reduced workload, and her body went three seconds between beats. While this wouldn't erase her presence from more sensitive sensors, even if she masked her chakra signature, it would be a window of time where she could slip by non-sensors who'd learned to compensate for that lack of talent. Even Orochimaru, whose finesse as a shinobi surpassed either of his former teammates, found himself incapable of sensing Ayame's presence between her heartbeats.

"Take today to readjust to consciousness," Orochimaru said, "and your training will start again tomorrow."


[How does it feel?] Yuurei asked telepathically, his gaze on Mei as the green-eyed woman sat at her new desk.

[About the same as your pants probably do. How long have you been wearing those rags?] Mei responded, looking quizzically at the blond demon in front of her.

[Ten months. And before you ask...you don't want to know.] Yuurei attempted to ignore how the newly-instated Mizukage's expression changed as she stared at him.

"When the two of you are done making faces at one another, we have some decisions to make." Yugito's voice was slightly agitated, uncomfortable in the knowledge that Yuurei and Mei could communicate with their thoughts.

"About where we're headed?" Tayuya asked.

"Before you take that thought any further, there's something else that needs addressing. When are we getting Yuurei some actual clothes?" Mei countered. "I mean...I'm sorry, dear, but look at you. I've seen orphans in gutters dress better than this."

"I want to be offended by that," Yuurei said. He was intimately familiar with the reason those orphans were well-dressed—they stole to survive. He'd been one of them.

"I am offended by that," Tayuya added, her eyes narrowed in irritation.

"But am I wrong?" Mei asked.

"Nope!" Yugito let out a short laugh. "I'd swear those pants fit when I met him, though..."

It wasn't that Yuurei was unaware of his poor state of dress. He was, in fact, very much aware of the way that his tattered and worn-thin pants were barely clinging to life. In his mind, though, there had always been more important things to worry about. And, when it came down to it, he wasn't sure he cared—but he was smart enough to know that, if he vetoed this, these women would never let him live it down.

[You have no idea how badly I'd prefer to go with you,] Mei thought. [But if you're going to leave...Yugito may need to forgive me for stealing a march on her.]

[What do you mean?] Yuurei asked, schooling his face to avoid revealing that he was still talking to Mei.

"Let's go, then," Mei said aloud. Taking off the ornate headpiece of her station, she set it down on her desk before standing; moving to Yuurei's right side, she took his hand in her own before she began walking. Though the demon wanted an answer to his question, he put those thoughts on hold.

Inwardly, Tayuya wanted to fume as she followed after the pair. That was her spot! Mei had taken her spot! As she looked to the left, though, Yugito was moving along with a thoughtful expression on her face. The older blonde, removed from Tayuya's internal rage, could see that something was going on. Whatever it was that made Mei act so decisively—when, even after Yuurei had placed the Mark of the Beast on her, she'd remained timid at the idea of intimacy—likely had to do with their imminent departure.

After their arrival at a shinobi-oriented clothing store, the shop's owner was torn between respect for her Mizukage and shock towards Yuurei's apparent belief that his "clothes" were acceptable. Even his sandals had to go, she demanded. She took the red-eyed demon away, intent on making him look like he hadn't been living in the wilderness for a year; the fact of the matter was, though, that was exactly what Yuurei had done. While the demon was gone, Mei and Yugito disappeared at the redhead's behest, looking for a private place to speak.

For her part, Fu couldn't possibly care less about whatever was going on with the rest of her companions. Waiting patiently, unlike Tayuya, she quietly meditated and spoke with Choumei until it was time to go. Patently ignoring Mei and Yugito's looks as the sun hung low in the sky, they reached the Mizukage mansion; the green-haired girl went to her room and resolved not to come out.

[Well, I suppose it's not stealing a march if it's sharing,] Mei said, directing a fiery look in Yuurei's direction.

[You're still not telling me what that means?] Yuurei asked, only for his other three companions to surround him. The Godaime Mizukage dragged her demonic master by one hand, while Yugito took hold of the other, and Tayuya brought up the rear by closing the door behind them.

[If you're going to leave, I know that I can't stop you...but you'll have to give me something in return. dear.]

As the sun sank below the horizon, Yuurei didn't have to wait long for an explanation.