Hello again ladies, gentlemen, persons of unspecified genders, snake people of post-apocalyptic Portland, longtime readers who have long since lost faith in my ability to update consistently, new readers who have yet to lose faith in my ability to update consistently, my imaginary friend Aguh from when I was four years old, all anons who have ever flamebaited me in my career, and everybody else! It's good to see you (and be seen) again.
Let's get this trainwreck moving.
"My lady, we're being followed. How should we proceed?" Chojuro's voice, while not quiet, wasn't loud enough to carry past the Mizukage's ears. Though he doubted they had anything to fear, he was still concerned for the safety of the Genin traveling in the area. After years of war, the swordsman wasn't keen on seeing more young shinobi die.
"Leave them be," Mei said, her visible eye swiveling to look at her bodyguard. "If they're really foolish enough to try attacking our comrades, I'll personally take action."
Hearing his leader speak so decisively, Chojuro's anxious expression smoothed over. He had full faith in her strength—just as much as her charisma, it was why he had sided with her over Yagura. A casual glance brought his eyes down to the conspicuous tattoo-like bands on Mei's left ring finger, and a sense of security eased his tense shoulders. The Mark of the Beast went unquestioned by the ninja of Kirigakure, whose elites knew it was a sign of the Kyuubi's favor. After obtaining it, her combat strength had surged to unprecedented heights; though shinobi weren't ultimately governed by power, there was no doubt in Chojuro's mind that Mei was the strongest master beneath Kirigakure's sky.
Initially, the two-toned redhead had planned on delaying her travel to Sunagakure for a week or two, allowing the Genin under her command to compete in the earlier stages of the Chunin Exams. After some thought, though, she'd reconsidered her approach—part of her rationale was to meet and interact with her fellow Kage, and the rest was to make absolutely certain that her most vulnerable subordinates remained unharmed. It wasn't that she didn't trust the Jounin assigned to teach these teams, but a measure of how serious she was about protecting them.
Slowing herself down, Mei felt her bodyguard do the same, and the Genin teams around them began to slip a little further ahead. Chojuro didn't need to ask what the Mizukage's thought process was, fully aware that they were creating a solid barrier between those Genin and their pursuers. Though it was unlikely that they would come to blows, he would stand at Mei's side without complaint. They still had several days left before they could even dream of reaching Sunagakure, and pursuits like these weren't entirely uncommon.
If these mystery followers of theirs would actually dare to strike, Chojuro pitied them. Though they carried on behind the Mizukage and her bodyguard, they hadn't seemed to notice that a third, monstrous presence was trailing their group. With Mei attacking at their front, and Fu blindsiding them from the back, what chance could they have?
"You miss them," Ayame asserted, staring her teacher down. The faint, slow beating of her three hearts had become a sort of background radiation to the brunette's daily life, and they were shifting into an even more languid pace as she finished her daily training.
"I do," Orochimaru agreed, returning to his throne and seating himself. "Their individual dysfunctions were marginal at best, and after Kabuto, they were my most trusted retainers. Even without Kimimaro, they continued to flawlessly execute one mission after another...it was enough to make me believe that they could handle anything I asked. I made a mistake after my sensei died, and I leaned too heavily on them. They deserved better."
In those moments, as Ayame watched the White Snake's face, she could see the weight of his five decades weighing on his expression. Sharp creases framed his tired eyes, and his loose posture almost hid the defeated slump in his shoulders. Time after time, he had sacrificed and seen others sacrifice—and for all that effort, where had they been rewarded? His sensei was dead, his estranged teammate loathed him, and the Otoyon that he'd chosen and trained by hand were dead or missing. And, at the center of Orochimaru's losses, a single figure was present: Naruto. Even Ayame, the Byahebi's latest disciple, was deeply tied to that blond demon.
That connection, along with the information that Sai had given him, was what had led Orochimaru to implement Tsunade's demon constraint crystal into Ayame's physiology. Surgically inserted into her chest and slightly protruding from the dip at the top of her ribcage, her body would naturally refine and accommodate to the artifact's power. Once its natural suppressive abilities had melded with her other talents, she would become a perfect foil to Naruto—all without realizing it. And, as an added bonus, she would serve as an effective trump against the demon in Itachi's body.
"I'll make them proud," Ayame said, her gaze hardening as she continued to watch Orochimaru's expression.
"That kind of faith is the first step to proving yourself correct." Orochimaru smiled, revealing his impossibly natural fangs, and Ayame couldn't help recalling Yuurei's toothy smirks—they were full of the same confidence, and their lengthy fangs betrayed their violent intentions.
In the time since she'd awoken from the coma Zabuza had left her in, she'd begun to master the techniques that the slaughtered Sound Four had spent their lives studying. As she looked to the future, the brunette finally began to see the possibility that she had a place at Yuurei's side. In spite of the blond demon's trust in her during their campaign in Mizu no Kuni, she knew she was the weakest of his companions; now, though, she'd been given the opportunity to reach heights beyond her imagination.
Whether it was the possibility of ensnaring a foe with Kidomaru's silk and draining their chakra with Jirobo's Doton techniques, healing her injuries with Tsunade's medically-aligned keirakukei, or even regenerating whole organs with cells from Sakon and Ukon's hearts...Ayame had high hopes for her potential, and she had every right to be. Though she was attempting to become proficient with several different skills at once, along with the physical training that Orochimaru was putting her through, she didn't feel incredibly pressured. On more than one occasion in the last two weeks, the White Snake had commented on the speed at which she was progressing.
Ayame wasn't sure how to explain the way her brain processed information when she learned Ninjutsu, but she knew that it was her greatest talent. It was one of the reasons why she'd readily left Konoha for Otogakure. If Sai was the member of their trio who'd been bred and trained with high expectations in mind—like Tsunade—and Yuurei had to slowly kill his way into claiming greater power, like Jiraiya? Ayame was the savant who seemed to understand things...just like Orochimaru.
She still remembered the look on her leader's face, when they were still children, as she'd effortlessly performed techniques after seeing them once; Yuurei had struggled to learn and use them, but Ayame's first attempts had been perfect. That feeling, like she'd found her place in the world, had been exhilarating—and Yuurei had never held a grudge against her for her talent, only encouraging it further. For a little while, she'd even been worried about outshining Yuurei. Time had taught her how that wasn't possible.
"If we're done for the day, do you have any other orders for me?" Ayame asked.
"Not at the moment. I'm currently gathering candidates who can join you, taking on the role of the Sound Four. I assume you have no objections?"
Ayame knew that Orochimaru's last sentence was pure sophistry. If the White Snake cared about what others thought about his decisions, he could never have become the man he was today. Still, she shook her head in a silent dismissal of opposition. To begin with, Ayame wasn't the kind of ninja who took pride in her skills for one-on-one combat; working as a pair with Yuurei or Sai, or in teams of three or four, were much more to her liking.
With a wave of his hand, Orochimaru dismissed his latest pupil. Looking at her head from behind, he felt an odd sense of familiarity wash over him—and, to his consternation, couldn't put his finger on the reason why. Was it the way her low ponytail ran squarely down her neck and shoulders, like some brunette image of a young Tsunade? The sense of alarm and pride that writhed inside his heart when he watched the Sound Four work? Was it neither?
There was very little that bothered the White Snake more than a question he didn't know the answer to.
An overwhelming sense of boredom had been gnawing on Yuurei's nerves for quite a while. Though he was perfectly happy to have returned to his familial home, remaining in confined spaces for days at a time wasn't his strong suit. Even during his extended stays in Nami no Kuni, Sunagakure, and Mizu no Kuni, he'd been free to move as he pleased; it was a freedom he'd taken full advantage of. Now that he was under pressure to remain hidden, for the sake of his freedom and autonomy, he was discovering his proclivity for cabin fever.
"Rummy," Tayuya said, looking at her fair-haired companions with a smug grin curving to her eyes.
"Damn it." Yugito swore as she tallied her points for the hand they'd played, looking at the cards on the table.
There was very little nuance to the game, though it had taken the trio some time to come to terms with their own regional variants. If all truths were to be told, Yuurei would rather have a fourth person at the table so that they could play spades instead of rummy. Unfortunately, he didn't have a choice. Sai wasn't coming back here any time soon—he had his own work to do. Outside of one other person, nobody else on Konoha's surface even knew Yuurei was alive; there was no reason for anybody to come knocking. So why, as the blond demon shuffled a long-unused deck of cards, did he keep glancing at the shadows on the floor?
It was because, in that swath of darkness, a spiny ponytail extended from the back of the shadow's head. As Yuurei's bloodshot natural eye attempted to stare a hole into the shadow, he could have sworn it blinked at him—an an ethereal, icy blue eye met his unwavering gaze.
"If you've noticed me, I guess there's no point in hiding," the shadow said. Yugito glanced at the mass of darkness as it brought itself up, though her focus quickly returned to her latest hand of cards. Tayuya was so unconcerned that she didn't even bother looking up.
If their new visitor really posed a threat, Yuurei wouldn't have bothered letting him know that he'd been spotted.
"It's been a while, Shikamaru," the demon said idly. "What brings you here?"
"Your pick between idle curiosity and an excuse to get out of training. Plus, I wanted to make sure I wasn't imagining Sai's disappearance the other day. That dude always finds a way to get to you."
"Tell me about it," Tayuya said as she placed cards down on the table. "Fucker can teleport, and he uses it to play messenger between people who don't want their secrets getting out. It's bullshit."
"I think he was talking about Yuurei specifically," Yugito replied, drawing a card of her own. "Sai seems to be particularly rigid when it comes to personal loyalty."
"He's my person. He knows that as well as anyone else." Yuurei splayed his hand of cards out on the table, face up, declaring rummy. "You wouldn't be willing to help me, would you, Shikamaru?"
"You just want to play spades, you blond bastard," the Nara heir accused. Yuurei didn't bother denying his claim.
"How much do you know about why we're here?" Yugito's question came as she took her turn shuffling. Her words piqued the interest of her seated companions, and three sets of eyes looked at Shikamaru's face.
"Oh, please. Like I know jack shit," the brunet drawled, watching Yugito deal a hand for him. "Guess it's too much to assume you were aiming for a quiet retirement in a homeland that thinks you're dead?"
"I'm handling some personal business, and then I'm leaving. Not much would be able to make me come back," Yuurei said.
"Sure, I'll help you. Call it a gift from an old classmate." Shikamaru looked at his hand of cards. "I'll go low."
"I'll take all the help I can find, but you swear a lot more than I remember," Yuurei observed. "I'll bid three."
"You leave that fucking man alone. The amount someone swears has a positive correlation with their intelligence. And, uh, three." Tayuya retorted.
"It pisses my mom off," Shikamaru admitted.
"I'll bid four and go first," Yugito declared, laying down her card.
Cannibalism had functioned for thousands of years, if not millions, as an inviolable taboo among men and demons alike. For the multitude of races that lived in Makai, who gained strength through slaughter, the term had a slightly different connotation: to siphon another demon's strength without having killed them. The knowledge of how to do this was scarce, shunned, and hidden—those responsible all claimed, and believed, that it was for the safety of the few who attempted to learn. The power it allowed the wielder to obtain was much greater than conventional means, but the drawbacks were equally severe. If the thief and victim were too dissimilar in status and physiology, it could take the thief months or years to resolve the unsteadiness in their foundation. In some cases, it wasn't unheard of for the victim to get the last laugh, watching their aggressors die and taking their strength back.
The Biju had existed in an irregular and hateful peace since their childhood. Familial bonds were in short supply among demons, but the Juubi had insisted that all competition between his children—none of whom shared a mother—be done in good faith and without regard for his legacy. That mandate had stood for countless centuries until the night of Yuurei's birth, and was officially cast aside after Shukaku buried Gyuuki beneath the outskirts of Sunagakure. With those two events, merely a decade and a half apart, the balance between the remaining Biju had been irreversibly shifted.
So if a young demon, ignorant of these unspoken rules, were to reach out for power that didn't belong to him...were there really any words that could make him recoil?
It had been a series of excruciating days for Sasuke, whose bones and muscles had started to ache even while he was resting. Even Shizune's potent medical chakra had failed to relieve any of the pain he felt. Even so, he'd continued to struggle on; for the sake of his pride, he refused to give up on the idea of learning the Gogyou Yakimodoshi Ken. Currently, their trio had stopped for the day, and the Uchiha decided that ambition had gotten the best of him.
"I'm going to attempt the first stage of that technique," he declared, causing his older companions to look in his direction.
"Are you sure?" Jiraiya asked. "I don't want to explain to the Hokage that his brother blew himself up trying to learn from a foreign village's forbidden scroll."
"I have faith in myself...and I have faith in the two of you to help me, if something goes wrong." Sasuke's cocky grin proved infectious, as he saw it reflected back in his direction by the burly sage.
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained, I suppose," Jiraiya conceded.
"You can't be serious!" Shizune was flabbergasted. And yet, as she hesitated to believe her eyes, Sasuke had already begun releasing his chakra.
Multicolored light began to softly radiate out from Sasuke's body, in accordance with the one-handed seals he began to make with both of his hands. Thanks to his Sharingan's photographic memory, he didn't need to look at the remains of Takigakure's Kinjutsu scroll while he performed the technique as it was written. Five lights shone in harmony, mutually constraining and enhancing each other as Sasuke's chakra continued to swell. The atmosphere of the world around him became increasingly turbulent in conjunction with his chakra, causing Jiraiya to wonder if he should have been more insistent about preventing Sasuke from trying this. The single rain cloud overhead had taken on a foreboding aura.
With nothing but his chakra to protect him, Sasuke offered no resistance when the natural world seemed to reject his existence. All at once, and yet in order, a cavalcade of catastrophes befell him. Ancient trees shifted their branches about, their suddenly supple limbs reaching to constrain Sasuke by his forearms. From above, a single peal of thunder threatened to shatter the bones in Jiraiya and Shizune's ears before they watched a column of lightning crash down on Sasuke's body; the wood around his arms caught fire, and the flames didn't hesitate to cover him whole.
Grimacing in pain, the young Uchiha struggled to continue circulating his chakra. Even as he continued to suffer, though, his hands never stopped moving. Out from under his feet, the ground began to twist, and it was only a matter of seconds before a cloud of dust and dirt obscured Sasuke from view. Within the earthen haze, he didn't dare to breathe, and he felt an intense stinging sensation as the fire across his body was buried. Next, a series of metal rods shot out from the ground to pierce his feet, continuing up through his armpits and emerging from his shoulders. Letting out a wild scream, Sasuke used the last of his chakra to finish the final hand seals of the Five Elements Tempered Sword; in conjunction with that action, a ferocious rain came down to mix his flesh and blood with water.
Just as quickly as they had appeared, all indications of the technique vanished from existence, leaving nothing but an unconscious teen in their wake. Though most of his clothing had been burned away, Sasuke's body now exuded a mild pressure that neither Jiraiya nor Shizune could completely dispel—an indication that the young man's confidence hadn't been misplaced, and that he'd succeeded in attaining the first rank of the technique.
Seeing the prone, comatose boy on the ground in front of him, Jiraiya felt the same tingling sensation running from his brain to his spine that he'd gotten when he'd taken his previous students in. Though Itachi's skill and genius had been present nearly from birth, it seemed that Sasuke's freak-of-nature status had gone under the radar until now. The white-haired Sannin couldn't wipe the toothy, nearly manic smile off of his face.
He'd found another one.
