Part 4: Meet Me in Heaven

Across the infinite nothingness of oblivion distant voices boomed with the defining sounds of his own name. "Tomoki," they cried over and over in asynchronous harmony. Some ached with concern while others rattled with harsh demand, "Tomoki…TOMOKI!" The boy's lustrous, brown eyes cracked open and his blurred vision resolved into a field of bright orange stars that blazed against the backdrop of night. No, that's not right, he thought, and as Tomoki blinked now saw the branches not more than a hand's width from his head, covered with dense, blue needles through which gleamed the still-bright light of early evening.

As he began to wriggle his small body to life amidst a carpet of dry earth and brown, crunchy needles and slowly moved a hand to his shaggy-haired head he finally realized where he was - under a spruce tree in the conical hollow around the base of its trunk and completely hidden from sight by its shroud of enveloping, evergreen branches.

The voices called again, this time from very close by. "Tomoki!" they rang and their familiarity seized him. "Come on, Tomoki! Cut it out; you WIN already!"

Tomoki peered through the gaps in his concealment at the children who hunted for him. Though it seemed exceedingly strange to find himself back here all of a sudden it also felt right. The boy slipped from his hiding place into the meadow's wild grass and approached the little girl with tangles of straw-colored hair who'd just passed. He reached up for her shoulder slowly as if she might evaporate before his touch and was surprised when she didn't.

She was more surprised by far. The girl piped a shrill scream and jumped forward. She then whirled around, stamped her foot and glared down at him furiously. "That's NOT funny, Tomoki!" she yelled.

Most of the other girls agreed but all the other boys did not and fell at once into hoots of breathless laughter.

"Keiko?" muttered Tomoki with disbelief as the sight of her tan, scratched face and light-colored eyes flooded him with memories. "It can't be you, you're -," he stopped himself, unable to voice the thought, dead…for a long time now.

Tenanted by anger, she hadn't heard him and came at the brown-haired boy with a vengeance. Keiko's wildly-flailing fists and slaps hammered his lean chest, bony arms and the top of his head to everyone's raucous delight. Though the force of her blows felt nothing at all like the bone-shattering, organ-rupturing wrecking-balls of Esmeralda-sensei's lightest tap, Tomoki fell helplessly before her onslaught until a much stronger arm pulled him into a headlock.

Dimly the boy could recall several ways to escape this hold – age-old techniques with evocative names like 'fisherman hooks a golden carp', 'cicada sheds its shell', and 'monkey steals peaches' but there was no need for any of that. There was no danger here and in fact his futile struggle against that arm's grip felt like the most appropriate and natural thing in the world! "Ow!" Tomoki cried instead. "Quit it!" he demanded and the arm released.

The older boy who'd held him looked down at him now with a goofy smile. "Tomoki!" he cheered then grabbed and shook him by the shoulders; the forgotten sound of his brother's laughter almost brought him to tears. "That was awesome! When did you get so good at sneaking?"

Words flooded Tomoki's mind but all that came was: "Tadao?"

"Come on!" insisted Ryuichi who ran up and pushed into the both of them, "one more time!" He turned his cross, freckled face toward Tomoki and pointed. "You're seeking! We coulda played three more times if we didn't have to look for you."

Tomoki's brother whacked the boy on the chest smartly with the back of his hand. "Well then you shoulda found him sooner," he countered and Tomoki thrilled at hearing his older brother champion him.

The insistent demands for another game went up as the children all gathered around Tomoki who brushed back his tangles of wavy, brown hair, giggled, shut his glittering eyes then clasped both hands over them. "One-hundred!" he began emphatically and at once heard the rush of scattering feet. "Ninety-nine…ninety-eight…ninety-sev-," a piercing, stricken cry cut him short and the youngster dropped his hands then looked to see.

This was no surprise. Yasue, who was Okahito's little cousin, had gotten hurt again. The tiny little girl sat there in the tall grass, her face red and swollen with tears, and her smooth, chubby arms and small hands held up at her sides.

Her cousin tried to console her. "Come on, cuz, you're alright," cooed Okahito. "You just fell down that's all."

She looked back with her eyes big and watering, and quivered, unable to speak.

Ryuichi, still headed away and searching for a place to hide, shouted, "No fair, Tomoki, you're looking!" Other voices parroted his concern.

Okahito turned towards Tomoki. "Hey, Tomoki, wouldja start over?" he bridled defensively. "We need more time; Yasue fell again."

Tomoki's brow narrowed as he looked closer into the little girl's face. "I think it's more than that," he said with a tone he wouldn't have for many years yet.

His friend looked at him in surprise then moved toward Yasue but she shook her head and whimpered so he backed away. The two boys, keeping their distance now, moved around her and were soon joined by half a dozen of the others who'd been drawn by curiosity. All together they saw the four star-thistles that stuck from the poor girl's back, grimaced then flinched away in full appreciation of how much that had to hurt.

The needles of the star-thistle grew long and brittle, yet passed effortlessly though skin and clothing. They'd all been warned that any attempt to pull the thistle off would break the needles in the skin and make them impossible to remove.

Faces went deadly serious. This was clearly a matter for an adult but it was always hard to call times like these to an end.

"It's getting dark anyway," offered Tadao with what Tomoki recognized as tact, then announced unapologetically, "Me and Tomoki got to get home." There were the usual arguments but all the fun had gone. Yasue was hurt and Okahito had to attend to her and so the objections turned after a few moments into reluctant consent.

Tomoki fell alongside his brother, bound by force of habit, and at last took a good look around. Fields of green and tan grass spread around him, punctuated by the vibrant yellows, purples and whites of wildflowers, and clusters of trees beyond which rounded mountains rolled lit by the setting sun. He was home again…at Chi-ling Mountain. The boy wet his lips uncertainly as he followed the gang of kids he all knew – some were close friends, cousins and other relatives, others just always seemed to be there whenever he was.

His eyes fixed on Tadao's confident profile, hardly believing he could be back here again, and not believing at all how many things he'd forgotten about his only brother – the familiarity of his shape, his voice, his scent and the little details of his face. How could I just forget? mused Tomoki guiltily.

Tadao looked again at Yasue, who sniffled and shook as she trudged up the slope with those horrible thistles in her back, and his expression melted with sympathy. They all orbited around Okahito and his baby cousin as if their proximity would help though none would dare touch her for fear of making matters worse.

Binya and Sumio congratulated Tomoki at scaring Keiko so thoroughly and he grinned shyly.

After a few moments they'd reached the break in the fieldstone wall and crossed over to the road that lead into the village. Tomoki reeled at the sight of its decidedly unimpressive gatehouse and the scant, low ramparts over which shingle or tiled gables peeked.

He'd seen those walls before with great gaping rents in them and curtains of fire rising up behind, people fleeing in terror and columns of thick, black smoke twisting up into a pitiless sky. No, Tomoki thought and shook his head to clear the vision, this is before that; before that horrible witch... His eyes, sparkling and brown, looked up in thought. Huh…what was her name? Try as he might to recall it, and he really felt like he should know this, it would not come.

"Hurry up," Tadao urged impatiently at which Tomoki readily complied. "We'll really be in trouble if we're late again; believe it!"

"What?" Tomoki's expression blanked as he stumbled. "What did you say?"

His brother looked at him askance. "We are go-ing to get in troub-le if we're late again," he repeated brusquely, "you'd bet-ter be-lieve it."

"Oh," the boy muttered in reply.

Tadao appraised him then asked, "You feeling ok?"

"Oh…uh, yeah…sure!" replied Tomoki unconvincingly as they passed inside and walked up the village's winding, stepped streets. Sights and sounds came at him like ghosts as its people passed like angels or devils. He felt the cobbles, hard under his worn, rope-soled sandals, smelled chimney smoke and the felt the closeness of the houses' walls of boards and bricks.

Where Merchant's Way crossed the East Gate Road, he stopped dead and turned to look. It had been on this spot where he'd first seen them. A monstrous hand of rock and earth had reached over the top of the wall then began to pull it down as if it were no more than children's blocks; other such hands had joined in until the wall was completely breeched and huge, terrible faces looked in on the tiny, defenseless town – faces with black cavities for eyes, stalagmite horns and stalactite teeth.

"Tomoki!" Tadao shouted in frustration. "Will you keep up!"

The boy hurried to join him where his brother was saying his farewells to the others and making plans then offered his consolations to Okahito and Yasue, telling her how brave she was and that she was going to be alright, all of which Tomoki quickly seconded.

At length when it had dwindled down to just the two brothers, Tadao turned to Tomoki and said, "You're sure acting weird…even more than usual."

The younger boy took the observation in stride. "I feel bad for Yasue."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I know what you mean," Tadao agreed. "She always gets hurt when she plays with us but she always comes back." The older boy noted his little brother's expression and threw an arm around his neck. "Don't worry about her. Okahito's a good guy and he'll look out for her."

Tomoki sniffed sadly. "It's not always enough," he stated. "Is it?"

His brother's brow furrowed seriously. "No Tomoki," he confessed. "Not all the time. That's why I get so mad when you wander off, trying to follow a bird or a cat or whatever dumb…never mind."

Tomoki sucked his lips as he remembered that he had indeed been quite the little escape artist. The whole village had been his playground and to him there'd never been any danger whether he was at the park, exploring a vacant building or just wandering about.

"You're a good guy too, Tadao," the boy confided, who wondered why he'd never said so before. "And I'm glad you're my brother…most of the time."

Tadao gave him a brief, skeptical glance then smiled and hugged him closer. "Me too, Tom-tom," he answered, "me too."

The pair ambled up and down their village's tight, maze-like avenues then turned into a courtyard where an army of fire-demons awaited them. The sight made Tomoki remember the night they came, when they'd descended upon this helpless settlement and set everything ablaze. He remembered the crumbling, soot-blackened walls, the fires licking hungrily through the gaping holes in rooftops, the streets filled with bodies and the air choked with embers and smoke.

They leered at Tomoki, the only one present who could see them, and their mouths widened into grins of blue flame against their bodies of flickering reds and oranges. I used to know some words that would make them go away, he thought as he and his brother approached them, but I don't need them anymore. This is way before they come here, and they can't come now unless I bring them.

"And I won't," the little boy muttered to himself and smiled, at which the demons evanesced as if they'd never been…and never would be.

The street lights pulsed twice and went on just then and up and down the street dark windows came alive.

"Hey!" exulted Tadao. "We got power tonight!" Tomoki shared his joy. Electric power was uncertain enough to be appreciated. It all had something to do with the scarcity of fuel, broken generators and various other things that escaped him. But this meant that his family would be in a good mood and they'd get to stay up long into the night and listen to music. Tadao turned to Tomoki suddenly, smiling his quick smile. "Race you!"

Tomoki's eyes widened then narrowed at the challenge and he shot past Tadao with all the speed he could muster. The generous head start he'd been given didn't last long and his brother soon streaked by him. Awww, the boy groaned to himself, I might as well be racing a horse!

Tadao was waiting at the gate to their row house when Tomoki at last came into view, gasping and wheezing like a steam engine. "Come on! Move it, ya slug!" the elder cajoled with a loud laugh then swung open the gate, leaped up the short flight of stairs and vanished through the doorway.

Tomoki trudged up to the gate, bent over and leaned against its iron vinework, completely exhausted. Between his ragged breaths he could hear voices issue both from his past and from his house – Tadao's voice and those of their mother and father, aunt's and uncles, all of their friends and his friends as well.

He swallowed hard and looked up at the row house he remembered – two stories of boards and battens from which paint peeled and nail heads poked but it rose up now before him as a magnificent mansion. Light blazed through the slats of the shuttered windows and through their veil he could discern the shapes of people who he hadn't seen in a very long time.

The child stood for a moment, stunned at the sight, then pushed his way through the gate; its stiff spring closed it promptly behind him with a series of resonant carillon clangs. As he made his way up the stairs, Tomoki paused for a moment to cast one last, wistful look out toward the horizon and a whole other world he'd known once.

Eager to go inside, he reached out for the doorknob with a broad smile on his face but another hand caught his wrist before it could arrive. The child looked up in shock at the strange man, tall and pony-tailed, with a long, straight scar beneath both his eyes. He wore a grey vest covered with pockets over a deep blue shirt and fatigue pants. Around his forehead circled a headband that had a metal plate embossed with a curious design.

Tomoki stared at him open-mouthed. "Iruka-sensei?" he blurted at last as the name came back to him.

"Hello, Tomoki," the ninja greeted then got right to the point: "What are you doing here?"

The child's expression wriggled. "I…I have to be here," he tried to explain as if it should be obvious. "This is where I belong."

"Is it?" asked Iruka probingly.

The boy looked away disconcertedly then retorted with sulky suspicion, "What are you doing here?"

"I think you know."

Tomoki trembled at his words. "Please," he pleaded softly. "Don't make me go."
The chunin looked down at him kindly with his dark eyes. "I can't make you do anything," he explained. "I can only show you the path. The one you chose to walk is up to you."

"Please, Sensei," the boy begged now as tears welled then dribbled down his cheeks.

"Haven't you forgotten something." It was not a question.

The little boy's brown eyes wandered. "My obligations," Tomoki answered ruefully.

Iruka nodded charitably. "I see you did learn something from me after all those years at the Academy; yes, Tomoki, your obligations."

"To who?" the boy barked with sudden anger and tore his arm away from the man's gentle grasp. "To you?"

His former teacher frowned with concern. "To me, I suppose," he agreed hesitantly, "to your country, your village…and to yourself too. But most of all…" He lingered and gathered his breath.

"Please, Sensei!" the boy shouted, desperate for him to stop.

"…to someone close to you."

Tomoki couldn't help himself but look as Iruka stretched his arm out towards the distance. His eyes followed it and, as the man's fingers unfurled, the child found himself flung high through the clouds, over mountaintops and across vast oceans and continents until he appeared at the gold and coral-red gates of the Shining Summit Monastery.

"Tomoki!" the muffled sound of Naruto's urgent voice awaited him there. "Hey! Tomoki!"

The ninja wandered, following the plea through empty courtyards, until he came at last to the one where the great bell towered. As Tomoki moved closer, his own dark reflection greeted him in its unassailable walls – a ghastly visage, bloody and beaten.

"Tomoki!" the familiar voice echoed again, cracking with relief. "All right! You finally found me just like I knew you would. Now get me out of here!"

The boy's eyes, lusterless again now and forevermore, shifted guiltily as he grimaced. "I can't, Naruto," he admitted finally then the genin's lips trembled and his eyes shimmered with tears as he mustered the effort to explain: "I'm dead."

He waited anxiously as long moments of silence passed.

"DEAD?" Naruto shouted back, startling him. "What, are you kidding me? What kind of lame excuse is THAT!"

"Please, Naruto," begged Tomoki as his insides turned to ice. "I tried! I did the best I could."

A small crack in the stone pavement shot from the base of the bell, branching and forking with a distinct 'snap' before it came to a stop.

"Yeah, yeah," growled the voice intensely, "woulda, shoulda, coulda…but ya didn't! You're pathetic! To think that I saved your worthless life! To think I actually thought of you as a friend and this is what I get!"

The crack spread again only this time it leaped like black lightning. It radiated beneath where Tomoki stood then struck out and climbed up the surrounding walls of the courtyard.

Tomoki, struck to the core by Naruto's denunciation, fell to his knees and pressed his tear and blood-smeared face against the cold iron. "Please…"

"Aw, just go away!" Naruto snarled back in disgust. "You're worthless! Some friend you are. I was really counting on you."

"I'm sorry!" shouted Tomoki with all his breath; flecks of spit flew and his throat burned with arid tingles.

"Save it!" Naruto replied but this time with such cold hatred that the boy flinched and fell back. The cracks in the pavement beneath him widened and great chunks of it fell away, vanishing into a black abyss. "Because of you, I'm gonna have to die too, in here, slowly, alone in the dark!" Naruto's anger broke and his shouts were shaken with sobs. "And…and I'll never get to be Hokage. I'll never get to be…anything."

Tomoki reeled. His friend, the first he'd had in years was going to die and it was his fault. The weight of his failure crashed in on him. "I'm…sorry, Naruto," he gasped again just as the pavement buckled and fell away into a pool of impenetrable, living darkness. The walls of the monastery fell too with all its shining pagodas, followed by the earth, the sun and all the sky. Only the great bell remained, standing firm as the only thing left in the universe. The defeated genin gaped at it for a moment in despair while the darkness held him; he floated upon it for a moment before it rose up to engulf him.

A great shudder passed through Tomoki's body as his left eye snapped open. Pain lanced him.

A voice spoke amidst other voices but he did not understand what it said. Gradually, the young ninja's vision cleared and he found himself looking up at a plank ceiling supported by slanted, rough-hewn beams. He was not in Ichi-san's treatment room which surprised him first. Second, he seemed to be alive but wasn't at all sure how he should feel about that. The sounds of clanking dishes, a crackling fire, and young voices stirred the boy's memories just as the smell of cooking filled his nostrils and stirred both appetite and nausea.

A woman appeared at his side. She put a comforting hand on his bare shoulder. "It's a day for miracles," she whispered to him soothingly. "You're awake."

Tomoki's mouth moved as he tried to speak but no sound came. He looked at her and she slowly came into focus – long, brown hair touched with grey; dark eyes, and round, weathered cheeks that were streaked with red.

"Shh," his caretaker cautioned gently. "Don't try to move any or you'll tear your stitches."

The boy looked down at his arm, the only exposed part of him, and saw the blood-soaked bandages and expertly-sewn horsehair stitches. Beneath the patched wool blanket that covered the rest of him he could make out the profile of the splints and braces that immobilized his legs. Despite her advice and the bandages that wrapped his head, he tried to speak again anyway.

"You're safe," the woman hurried to assure him. "You're in the village of Shijun, in my house – mine and my family's. My name is Wakana." She cast a leading look over her shoulder to a swarthy, heavyset man who sat at a table beyond, gulping tea, and a door beyond which came the babble and laughter of children playing.

Tomoki felt it coming and quickly turned his head as he began to cough violently. Each spasm sent stabbing pains through his side in particular and the rest of his body in general. "How long?" the broken boy rasped when he was able to in a voice the leaf-ninja couldn't tell was his. Thick fluid dribbled over his dry lips.

Wakana looked at him and her eyes melted with pity. "Two days," she reported.

Tomoki scowled at the news and flinched angrily which sent fresh shocks of pain searing through him.

His benefactress shook her head sternly. "I told you – don't move!" she chastened and wiped his face with a moist rag then rose abruptly but called back: "Just lay still."

The genin didn't hear. Instead Tomoki grit his teeth against the pain and thought about poor Naruto who for these last four days had languished beneath the great bell, a prisoner trapped alone in the darkness, hungry, thirsty and running out of air, confused, desperate, frustrated and afraid…just like in his dream!

Tomoki's ruminations ceased as the woman returned with a bowl of stew and cup of tea. "Go on and eat," she advised with dutiful cheer. "You'll need to if you ever want to get better."

The man at the table grunted. "That's it, Wakana," he grumbled sourly. "This is the first and last time you bring home a vagrant. We have little enough as it is."

"Liu!" she warned then turned back to her patient. "Don't listen to him; you're welcome to whatever we have. It is merit."

Tomoki looked away and bit his lip as the magnitude of what this woman had done settled in. All this work on his body alone must have taken hours.

"I can't begin to thank you," he offered then added, "both of you. I must have been a real mess when you found me and I know there's no way I can repay…Oh!" the boy piped as he remembered. "Wait, I can pay you something at least. I do have a little money."

"Did maybe," warned Wakana delicately who shook her head and smiled as she prepared him for more bad news. "When I found you, you had nothing but your few tattered clothes." Tomoki's eyes widened then fell. "I'm sorry, child. These are hard times. People around here aren't above robbing a body…or what they think is a body."

The genin knitted his brow as he considered what she'd said. "I still owe you everything, Ms. Wakana. I can never pay what you really deserve but I promise I'll pay you something."

Liu spat. "Big words…that's all."

Tomoki ignored him. Under these circumstances there was little else he could do or say. He turned over gingerly and, with Wakana helping him and arranging things, was able to eat. The stew was a mushy combination of random vegetables, spices and meats – no doubt whatever was on hand. As hungry as he was, it tasted better than just about anything he'd ever had before.

"So!" interrupted Liu forcefully from where he sat. "What's your story: accident, misadventure, or just plain stupidity?"

"Liu!" Wakana protested.

"Sorry?" muttered Tomoki, who shook his head gently. "What?"

The man grunted, smiled mirthlessly and took another swallow of his tea. "I was just wondering how a kid your age could end up so tattered and torn, layin' like a carcass among the rocks waiting for the condors to eat 'cha and figured it had to be one of three things: accident, misadventure or plain stupidity," he repeated then leaned forward slowly to ask pointedly, "so which is it?"

The boy's jaw tensed as he considered the answer. "All three," he admitted as much to himself as his company.

"'That right?"

"Pretty much."

Liu gazed at him reprovingly for long moments and watched him eat. "Well, please, don't hold out on us," the man demanded. "Since you don't have any money and can't do us any good, you at least owe us the story of what the hell happened to you."

Tomoki stopped eating and put the spoon back in the bowl. He looked at Liu and glared with his one eye. "If you like," he growled morosely at the man's churlish contempt. "I was beaten up by your Abbot Lin and his brother and sister. They beat me up then threw me off the top of their monastery. The Abbot and his siblings…they're not human -."

Liu slammed his palm against the table, making the dishes jump. "Don't you dare say such things about Abbot Lin and his family!" he shouted and pointed his finger. "They're good people, worth more by far than a thousand miserable, lying vagrants like you and I will not have such filth spoken in my house!"

The genin's brow rose as he feared that Lui might really attack him or throw him bodily out the door which, in his current state, there was very, very little he could do about.

Wakana sat frozen with both hands pressed against her cheeks.

Liu's choleric eyes swiveled toward her. "I'm going to the Golden Vessel," he announced coldly. "Be sure he's gone by the time I get back!"

Tomoki's gaze followed him as the man seized his coat and stormed out the door. The genin turned then toward the worried look in Wakana's eyes. "I'm sorry about that," he offered in a hopeless voice. "I should have been smart enough to just keep quiet. It's not right for me to mess things up like this after you've been so kind."

"You'll stay here until you are well," the woman stated firmly, "no matter what HE has to say about it."

"Please, Ms. Wakana…"

"None of that," she insisted and the look in her eyes quashed any rebuttal. "Finish your supper, child."

"Tell me," Wakana began again after Tomoki had finished. "What village are you from?" Tomoki swallowed his last mouthful of stew, savoring its flavor then took a slow drink of the tea to stall for time. "Let me put it to you this way," she restated, having deciphered the nuances of her charge's expression in a glance, "which of the ninja villages sent you?"

The boy worried his lip, considered making something up but dismissed the idea. "Hidden Leaf," he replied slowly. "Only, I wasn't sent. I came on my own."

"Hidden Leaf?" Wakana repeated as she tilted her face upward in thought. "What country is that?"

"The Land of Fire," said the ninja with a defeated sigh.

"Fire?" She looked at him agog then laughed. "You have come a long, long way!"

"How did you know?" Tomoki wondered aloud and couldn't help but ask.

"I have my ways," answered the woman with a clever grin. "This is a small town; not much can happen here without someone talking about it. Then too, I noticed that you'd been cut, beaten and stabbed even before your tumble down the mountainside. Though you're young and strong no normal boy would have survived it," Wakana explained. "There's also the matter of your scars. You've got a good one," she said and reached over to draw an 'X' across his chest, "from where it looks like a man cut you with a machete."

Tomoki rolled his tongue along the raw wound on the inside of his cheek. "It was a woman," he corrected her, "with a nine-ring broadsword. But that was a good guess."

Her eyes wrinkled as she joined him in a smile but then turned serious as she said, "Then there're all those others, worse than that, faded with time – long, deep scratches and terrible burns." Her eyes flickered toward his. "Your skin tells a story far more horrible than words ever could."

"All right," said Tomoki sharply to put her observations to an end. "I get it. But what do you care?"

"I was just wondering," she leaned forward as if to impart or receive forbidden wisdom, and asked in a whisper: "are you here about the Abbot and his clan?"

The genin looked at her carefully. "As it turns out…yes."

Wakana took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I knew it."

Tomoki's one exposed eye widened. "I take it you don't share your husband's admiration?"

"I certainly used to," she admitted and looked up toward the rafters. "Oh, I threw flower petals at their feet when Lin, Hsien, and Inakaya first came, and I prayed for them when they went to war against the Dancing Stones."

Tomoki groaned as he shifted positions; the mattress' wood frame creaking under his movement.

"I thought to myself even then that there was something not quite right with them," the woman related, her eyes distant as she recalled. "Abbot Lin is certainly charming in an innocent sort of way, he might even be a good boy at heart but his brother and sister -," she stopped herself, not wanting to get sidetracked. "Anyway, my cousin is a brick-layer, and he told me just this morning all about how this strange boy fought with them in the courtyard of the great bell and so I thought…maybe you have some answers."

Tomoki frowned and shut his eye then gave a sardonic laugh. "What do you want to know?"

"The truth," she answered insistently. "Everything."

The boy's eye flickered towards Wakana's resolute expression. "I'll tell you what I can though I doubt you'll believe me," he said. "The Abbot isn't human. None of them are." Seeing that she didn't reject out of hand what he'd just said, the ninja continued: "They're all animal spirits. Hsien is a boar, Inakaya a leopard, and Abbot Lin is a crane." His caretaker surprised him with a nod of her head and her young patient blurted: "You don't exactly seem surprised."

"Now that you've said it, it makes perfect sense." Wakana looked at him, her lips pressed together in a tight smile. "Since you're new here that may sound silly. But it explains the weird way they act sometimes, the things they're able to do and how they could defeat all those bandits – just the three of them along with a handful of our men."

Here she let out a breath. "I think I could overlook their strangeness, even get used to it, but ever since they came here people have been disappearing, especially children," Wakana explained tensely then shot a look of maternal vigilance toward the door behind which her own children played. "Oh, sure, it's always been dangerous enough around here for the young ones. Kids fall off the trails, get lost, fall sick, and there are wild animals but it's never been like this. For awhile I believed what the Abbot told us about there still being bandits around. For awhile I believed it…even after my own son, my oldest, vanished." She leaned close and laid a firm hand on Tomoki's shoulder. "Please," his caretaker begged, "do you know what could have happened to him?"

"No, ma'am," the ninja tried to answer soothingly but the memories of Hsein's voice, and the monster and his sister's predatory fondness for human flesh drew conclusions in his mind that were not easy to detour. "Not for sure."

Wakana seemed to read through the awkwardness of her patient's prevarication, the hesitant tone of his voice then sat back, a look of suppressed terror in her eyes. "So…what do mean to do," she asked, holding back emotion through sheer force of will, "kill them?"

"If it comes to that," Tomoki replied then added after some consideration: "and it probably will unless they kill me first which is probably more likely. They've taken a friend of mine and I have to get him back."

Wakana wrung her hands together and said with a sigh, "I said you can stay here for as long as you want to and I meant it. But it's sure that word will get out. Liu believes in the Abbot without question and doesn't like strangers much anyway." She waved her hand and observed, "Right now he's probably blabbing all about you to his drinking buddies at the Golden Vessel. One of them's bound to put two-and-two together."

Tomoki drew a breath. "I would never put you in that kind of trouble, besides, you've done more than enough." He lay back in bed and slowly forced his hands to touch though he quivered with pain at the effort. Soft laughter escaped him as he wiggled and flexed his fingers, and his dull, brown eye lifted. "I really am strangely fortunate."

"How's that?" asked Wakana. "That you're still alive?"

"Yes, that," admitted Tomoki, "and my fingers still work and your care has given me enough of my strength back to do this." His face screwed with concentration as his hands came together, fingers intertwined.

The woman cupped her hands together uncertainly as her patient seemed to glow for a moment and waves of heat poured from him. "What's all that?"

"A jutsu," Tomoki gasped, "a ninja technique called 'Five Elements/Eight Harmonies."

"Ah," she said. "What's it supposed to do?"

"See for yourself," the boy said and began to unwind his bandages.

"Stop that!" she shrieked in alarm until the boy calmed her.

"It's ok, just look." He raised his arm and showed her that his wounds were completely healed. Where grizzly, fresh cuts and tears had seeped blood and fluid, now her expertly-sewn stitches seamed though unblemished skin.

The woman's mouth fell open in amazement. "I…don't believe it," she gasped as the young leaf-ninja unraveled his stained bandages, pulled up the blanket that covered him, undid his splints and swung his bare feet to the floor.

"Um, Ms. Wakana?" Tomoki began delicately, realizing now that, minus his bandages, he was pretty much going to be naked. "You've already done a lot for me but, um, if I could borrow some clothesI'd be even more grateful."

"Of course, of course!" she exclaimed. "I have some that used to be my son's. But tell me, what will you do now?"

"First thing," the genin stated seriously. "I need to find my swords."

She nodded with understanding. "You're going to fight the Abbot again?"

"Yes, but that's beside the point," he explained and looked at her, for the first time with both eyes. "They're mine and I want them back!"

By the time Wen had finished telling his grand stories of adventure and romance, half the audience he'd managed to gather in the wide alley just outside the Luck and Happiness Teahouse erupted with cheers and applause while the other half poured out their disbelief with hisses, moans, boos and rude comments. The young man smiled a brazen, gap-toothed smile, sheathed the swords he'd been flourishing and crashing together for dramatic effect then bowed graciously at which a handful or two of coins dropped on the unfolded blanket that was his stage.

The last light of the evening was fading into night and the surrounding mountain peaks glowed orange at their edges. The children who'd stopped to listen to his tale, those very few who were unaccompanied, raced homeward while the rough assortment of sherpas, muleteers and caravan men made a more relaxed departure into the teahouse.

Quick as a cat, the busker wrapped up his blanket and all the money within then dropped to all fours in search of those coins that fell short. His calloused fingers reached out for a stray then flinched as a heavy, leather boot came down on it.

"Twenty-percent, Wen," the foot's owner insisted – a barrel-chested man with sheared-short black hair atop a boulder head. Thick arms bulged from the short, wide sleeves of an elegant green and blue silk pongee worn over canvas pants.

Wen looked up and his thick lips rose into a lopsided grin. He worked his hand free, stood then adjusted the tight-fitting vest that he wore unfastened and the two swords that clattered awkwardly in his belt. "What did you say to me, Gunbei?" he objected loudly, staring up into the teahouse owner's impassive, grey eyes before adjusting his headband – a genuine hitai-ate boasting the emblem of Konohagakure no Sato upon its metal plate. "Don't you know," the storyteller explained and thrust his pointed finger into the man's bulbous chest, "that I could kill you with just one blow?"

"Ah-hah," the man accepted. "But what about them?" he said and jacked his thumb behind him where two of his tattooed and sinewy custodians stood by, awaiting his word.

Wen swallowed hard. "It'd take more than its worth," he admitted, beaten but unbowed, then handed over some of his hard-won coins. The owner grinned, turned on his heel and headed back inside. "Choke on it, ya thief!" Wen hissed.

"What's that?" Gunbei turned and glared.

"Ok-kay, chief!" Wen 'repeated'. "Pleasure doing business with you!" he announced cordially, saluted then turned to go home.

"Hey, Mister!" a boy suddenly accosted him. He was only a bit shorter than Wen was, despite being at least three years younger, plain-looking with close-cropped brown hair and uninspiringly brown eyes. His ill-fitting baggy, brown trousers were cinched around a long, lean waist with a rope belt and sheared off unevenly at the cuffs, while his awful, stained shirt of blue, light blue and pea-green stripes was engulfingly wide across his body but far too short at the sleeves. Despite his non-descript face the kid seemed familiar somehow. "That was a great story," the stranger continued as he drew along side.

"Glad you liked it, kid," Wen grumbled with an affected, world-weary indifference then asked as an afterthought, "Were you in the crowd?"

"I sure was," the boy affirmed, "'right up front."

"Huh, well…good for you."

"No, I mean it," persisted the newcomer. "I mean, the way you and your band of six hand-picked ninjas took on all those bandits and saved the village, just the seven of you! And then you took on the six demons of Kimon and sent them back to hell, and then," he gushed, "then you defeated that legendary samurai warrior in a duel at sunrise! Why, it's incredible! You must be some kind of, I don't know, super-ninja or something!"

"I have to admit," said Wen with a sage smile, "that's true. The path I've chosen is not easy. The way of the ninja…is both a blessing and a curse."

"You don't say, wow," the boy replied in a leveling tone as his eyes of lusterless brown looked left then right along the vacating street. "I've never seen anything like what you said in your stories, you know, bandit armies or legendary warriors but I do know one thing about ninja battles."

Wen blew out a derisive breath and said, "Yeah, and what's that?" The boy wheeled around in front of him and rested a hand on his chunky shoulder. "Hey, watch it! What is this?" grumbled the busker, but the boy's fingers snapped shut like a bear trap and dug into his clavicle, gripping with terrifying strength around the bone with fingers and thumb almost closing. Wen's breath seized and his knees buckled from an excruciating pain unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

The boy leaned close to his ear and whispered intensely, "Like you're gonna be IN one if you don't give me my stuff back."

Tomoki put his vest on over his woeful, borrowed shirt and sorted through its pockets thankful that, except for his cash, all their contents seemed to be in place.

Wen, meanwhile, huddled on the pavement in the alleyway where he sat and nursed the bruised spot along his upper chest. "So," he began hesitantly, "you're a real ninja, huh?"

The genin strapped his swords on at his waist in businesslike fashion then answered dully, "not a very good one…but yes."

The storyteller's thick-featured face flickered into an uneasy smile. "Wow…I sure never took you for one."

The younger, thinner boy glanced heavenward. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

"And that disguise!" Wen congratulated. "I mean, nobody could ever see through that!"

Tomoki turned and gave him a withering look. "Thanks, I worked hard on it," he said coolly then reached for the tied-up cloak that had Wen's money. "Relax," he suggested as he sensed the storyteller's tension. "I'm not going to rob you but am going to take back what I had with me. I have some bills to pay."

Wen chuckled nervously. "Fair enough," he opined. "It's not like I could stop you either way, right?" Tomoki let the remark pass. "It must be great being a ninja."

Tomoki sighed, tossed the remaining coins to Wen and explained scornfully, quoting him: "It's a blessing and a curse."

"Oh, ha-ha," replied Wen dismally. "You know, you've got a real harlequin sense of humor."

The ninja rounded on him suddenly, making him flinch. "You know, over the last few days I've been tricked, beaten, cut, stabbed, almost beheaded, attacked by beasts, thrown off a mountain and robbed!" he pointed out. "So whatever sense of humor I have left is what it is."

"Oh," Wen acknowledged. "I guess it makes sense that it'd be kind of a tough life." His brow knitted in thought. "You say all that happened to you here? Just what the hell are you trying to do?"

Tomoki shook out his dry canteen disappointedly then replied, "Not that it's any of your business…but I've come to save a friend of mine from the Abbot, his brother and sister; if he's even still alive," he paused for a moment and his head drooped, "or still my friend. As you might guess, things haven't exactly gone very well."

Wen nodded obligingly. "So it's true what they say about those three, huh?"

The genin gave him a pained look then threw his hands in the air. "Does everyone around here know?" he asked then grumbled, "Why doesn't anybody DO something?"

The older boy shrugged. "Lots of people know and lots more don't." He grinned cleverly then added: "and more than a few know but don't really WANT to know, if you know what I mean…so what's to be done? It's hard enough just to survive around here so who wants to add fighting demons and monster or whatever to that? You can count ME out!"

"Swell," Tomoki commented snidely.

"Hey, not everyone's a super-tough ninja."

Tomoki chuckled and shook his head. "What, do you think I'm tough just because of that nerve point I used on you? That was just some cheesy, day-one stuff. If I was any kind of decent ninja I'd be done by now." The weary genin paced in a circle for a moment then slumped against the wall, sat and rubbed both hands down his face. His fingers snapped open a pocket and pulled out another headband, a twin to the one he'd reclaimed from Wen and tied around his forehead. Both bore the crest of Konohagakure no Sato – the Village Hidden in the Leaves. He gripped it tightly in his hand. "Sasuke's sharingan-eyes would have found their weaknesses," he began. "Sakura would have figured out a plan that'd have actually worked, and Naruto…well, I'm guessing his army of shadow-clones would've been more than enough to beat the fur, bacon and feathers off the whole bunch."

Wen nodded along for a while then rolled his eyes. "I have no idea what or who you're talking about but none of those guys are here." He pondered hard for a moment then went on with waxing enthusiasm, "And really, I mean, if you went through all of what you said you did and you're still alive-and-kicking then you GOT to have something going for you, right?"

Tomoki's brow rose slightly and his cheek twitched. "That…or I've been luckier than I deserve."

"Some attitude!" spat Wen who then sniffed, "be that way if you want to, it's not going to get your friend any freer."

The ninja stared over the shelf of his knees. "It's already been four days."

"So what, is he a puss?" Tomoki fixed him with a glare but Wen stood firm. "Hey, he's your friend, not mine, so I don't know," he explained coldly. "Answer the question."

"No," insisted Tomoki. "He's not."

Wen stood up, went to Tomoki's side and sat beside him. "Look at me…I'VE gone without food for four days before and I'm no ninja." The genin looked at him and the storyteller went on: "And you - you don't look like you've ever had a silver spoon in your mouth so I'll bet you have too; am I right?"

Tomoki nodded.

"Ok then," Wen concluded. "Maybe it's time you get your narrow butt off the pavement and got back to work!"

The genin gave him a hard look but then his expression lifted. "Hmm, I'll bet that's the most useful thing you've ever said in your whole life," he offered dryly. "It's a lot like something Naruto would say. I guess wisdom IS where you find it."

Wen laughed. "You know I'm right," he said as he started to rise but Tomoki grabbed a handful of waistband and yanked him right back down.

"Don't stop just yet," said the ninja wryly in answer to the young busker's questioning look. "I can tell you're on a roll so please, 'Master' Wen, tell me what I should do now."

"What do you want from me?" replied Wen with disbelief. "I'm just a…," he stopped as Tomoki made a dismissive, rolling motion with his fingers. "I don't know," said the storyteller who frowned then suggested, "Whatever you did last time obviously didn't work so try something else." Tomoki nodded but with little gusto at which Wen fell into a contemplative silence. "Ok," he said at last with all trace of light-heartedness gone from his voice. "Here it is: maybe, if you want to get your friend back, then you'll have to do something you don't want to do…maybe something that you've never done, or even thought about doing, before." He looked away. "There's a lot of things I've done that I'm not proud of; I guess robbing you is one. But I look back and ask myself, 'well, what else would you do - starve?" Tomoki had shut his eyes but Wen could tell his solitary audience still listened intently. "When it comes down to it the only one who's going to take care of me is ME. And I'd much rather live as a criminal than die noble." The young man's chin sank against his chest. "That's all I got."

Tomoki opened his eyes. "Thank you," he said simply and moved to rise but then Wen pulled him back down by the roped waistband and Tomoki looked at him with surprise. "What?"

Wen's expression screwed and he opened his mouth to speak, "Do you…?" He stopped, thought about it then tried again, "Do you think I could be a ninja?"

Tomoki did what he could to reign in his expression then decided the young storyteller was serious. "It would be a very hard road for you," he informed him. "You'd be starting your training with little seven and eight-year-olds most of who could beat you death without even raising a sweat."

Wen made a face as he considered. "That's not a 'no' is it?"

"No," said Tomoki with a smile and stood up, "it's not." He took a couple of steps then turned back. "By the way, I've heard all your stories before, only it wasn't you in any of them."

Wen scowled and covered his face with his hands in an exaggeration of shame. "I need some new material, huh?"

"That's for sure."

"Got any ideas?"

Tomoki's eyes trailed upward in thought. "Well…next time you could tell about how you killed a witch named Xiaomei and her army of monsters," he advised.

Wen shook with laughter. "Sounds like a crazy story even for me but I might just give it a try," he said and cocked his head, then asked of the ninja's retreating back: "Hey, just what the hell's your name anyway? And where are you going all of a sudden?"

"Tomoki," the figure called back, waved farewell then answered: "To get back to work; what did you think?" before it stepped into a shadow and was gone.