The seductive Kunoichi Fuuka is back from the dead! She wants to take revenge on the blond-haired brat who dared to expose her best-kept secret and defeat her in battle years ago. Much has happened since then but the story of the attractive woman, whose beguiling charm had brought many strong opponents to their knees, also continues...
Fuuka's Last Kiss
Chapter VIII - Demon
"You don't have what it takes to control my power! You're nothing more than a mere fragment of my hatred!" - Kurama
"That was... that was close."
Fuuka stood before the lifeless body of the boy with the bluish-gray, short hair that was now only brown and lackluster - just like the rest of his battered body. The confrontation with Sora had almost the same end for her as the fight against the cheeky brat, who was now the Hokage.
Sora had neither the strength to break free from the iron grip of the Kunoichi, who held him tightly with her hair, nor the time to come up with something to stop Fuuka from usurping his body. The consequence of this was an emaciated, disfigured image of himself presented at the red-haired woman's feet.
Sora had previously resembled a young, strong oak, but now he looked more like a crippled branch.
Unlike Fuuka; after absorbing Sora's life force, the Kunoichi just glowed with life. Her new body was practically unharmed, as if the energy-sapping duel between the two had never taken place.
"You were stronger than I had assumed. But that didn't seem to do you much good either, huh?"
Fuuka kicked Sora's face and pushed her feet against it.
"Don't worry, your strength is in good hands."
She pressed harder against his head with the sole of her foot.
"I'm sure it will come in handy. Your body is mine - hehehehe, just like your Wind-based Chakra."
Fuuka didn't really made profit from her victory against Sora. Sora almost succeeded in destroying her. Ultimately, Fuuka won, but her triumph came at a price; Sora was able to destroy one of her bodies before the Kunoichi could win the battle. Since that body used the Earth-Element, she lost that Chakra. However, now that Fuuka possessed Sora's body, she was able to use the rare Wind-Element again. A circumstance she was anything but sorry about.
The smug, satisfied expression on Fuuka's face disappeared as she gazed into the young man's dead face for a while. She took her foot off his face, bent down to his lifeless body, and placed her hand on his wrinkled cheek.
"What a waste! It's almost sad to see such a handsome face in such a bad state."
Honest regret was audible from the woman's voice, but then she smiled again.
"But it's not that sad."
Fuuka straightened up and turned away from Sora's lifeless body. Then the woman's gaze turned downward to her breasts, and she noticed that something about the sight seemed different from what she was used to. She reached with her fingers for a long strand of her red hair, the ends of which seemed to have been cut clean and smooth.
My beautiful hair...
Fuuka made a sad face as she visibly regretted this picture that presented itself to her.
Once again, it got harmed.
Disappointed, she looked at her strand for a moment, then looked back angrily. But the sight of Sora's corpse lying in the dirt apparently gave her sufficient satisfaction.
"Well, at least he got what he deserved," the red-haired woman thought aloud.
Fuuka left Sora's dead body behind.
In fact, Sora was also merely a secondary target of her mission. Fuen was interested in a scroll that, according to her information, was hidden in the village nearby. It was said to be the scroll that Fuen had used to summon an army of undead to attack Konoha back then. Apparently, this technique was part of her plan again.
Fuuka refused to take orders from Fuen. She did obey Furido at the time and followed his instructions, but that was only because he promised her many opportunities to expand her collection of bodies - and also because she admired the man in some ways.
Fuuka depended on Fuen's resources, and Fuen on Fuuka's abilities. For this reason, Fuuka accepted Fuen's authority - at least until she could call the blond-haired brat her own.
Fuuka crossed the forest and finally reached the village.
So this is the place Fuen had spoken of. So somewhere here should be the scroll.
Dead silence.
She let her gaze wander along the facades of the houses. It was not unusual that nothing was going on, after all, she was there in the middle of the night.
Suddenly a loud, croaking sound penetrated her ears. Fuuka looked up, startled, in the direction from which the sound came. A black cat was standing on the roof, looking down at her maliciously. Fuuka gritted her teeth in annoyance.
The cat hissed angrily before making off on its quiet paws.
Fuuka paid no further attention to that, but walked along the street that led to the central square of the village. A large statue caught her eye, standing in the middle of the square. She had the feeling that she was being watched. Nevertheless, she kept walking steadfastly and calmly until she reached the statue. She looked up at it. The statue represented a demonic mythical creature. It looked proud and magnificent.
"Who are you?"
An old man emerged from the shadows of a side alley. Hesitantly, he walked towards the woman - or perhaps he was simply slow due to his apparent old age.
"I haven't seen you around here before."
Fuuka turned in his direction.
"Shouldn't you be sleeping by now, old man?"
The man was probably around seventy years old. Fuuka's special technique allowed her to stay young, beautiful, and strong. But Fuuka might have been even older than him.
"You know, when you're as old as I am, you don't care much about sleep. When I'm dead, I'll have plenty of time to sleep."
Fuuka, at this statement, frowned.
"What do you want?" she asked as she observed the old man.
The man wore a white beard and looked almost a little frail. He carried a walker with which he pointed at the Kunoichi.
"What do YOU want here, I wonder. What is someone like you doing in such an insignificant little village?"
"Someone like me? You don't even know me. Maybe I'm just passing through."
"You can't fool these old, experienced eyes, young lady. I know a Kunoichi when I see one. So, what are you doing here?"
"It's none of your business. And I suggest that-"
The man cut her off.
"It is very much my business. Everything that happens in the village is my business."
The old man, who sold fruits and vegetables during the day, came to stand in front of the Kunoichi and looked up at her defiantly.
"Your kind don't care if you put other people in danger as long as you get what you want."
The man raised his staff again and tapped it against her chest.
"I know what you did to Sora."
He raised his long, bushy eyebrows.
"He was a good boy, had a good heart. But I don't blame you. That's just the way of the Shinobi, and probably will ever be!"
Fuuka crossed her arms. She looked bored by his words.
"What's done is done. I'll help you find what you're looking for, if you promise to leave the village and its people unharmed."
He tapped her breasts a few more times before slamming his walking stick against the ground in one swift motion, presumably to make his point.
Fuuka looked at the man motionlessly, her arms still folded under her breasts.
"All right, old man. I promise. I am in search of a scroll that is supposed to be here in your village."
"What kind of scroll? We dragged many scrolls from that old temple here as we recovered them from its ruins."
"There is a map on it. A blueprint of a certain are-"
Suddenly, a blade appeared before Fuuka's eyes. She backed away. The man's walking stick was a weapon, and nearly cut off her head - or worse; her hair. The man sighed, visibly resigned from his failed kill attempt.
"I've gotten slow. Such a shame!"
"You just signed your own death warrant, old man!"
"Oh, it would have ended soon with me anyway."
He pointed the tip of his wooden walker at Fuuka again. The camouflaged weapon he carried seemed to have been an efficient tool against robbery.
"The scroll you seek is here, yes. However, I will not allow..."
The man began to cough loudly. Apparently his surprise attack had cost him more strength than he had originally expected.
"I won't let you get it. It's a vile technique. A Jutsu that brings the dead back into the world of the living is-"
Fuuka interrupted him, her voice annoyed.
"I don't care what you think of it, old man!"
Fuuka smiled.
"Fuen was very emphatic that I was supposed to attract no attention. Oh well, everybody makes mistakes."
She tilted her head down and gave him a scowl.
"Now I'm going to turn this place to dust."
Before she finished speaking, her hands were already forming finger signs - faster than the human eye could see.
"Fire-Style: Fireball Jutsu!"
Fuuka froze.
What... What is this? This feeling inside me. Like... as if I were... like I'm...
Drops of sweat formed on Fuuka's forehead and ran down her face. Her body began to tremble.
"AAAAHHH!"
Suddenly, she shrieked out. She grabbed her stomach with both hands as her knees crumbled and she fell to the ground.
Where does this come from? This hatred... this anger... this contempt.
A cocktail of negative emotions spread inside her. But they were not hers. Fuuka narrowed her eyes. From the outside, it looked like she was in great pain.
The old shopkeeper seemed almost as surprised as Fuuka herself. But then he realized the favorable opportunity that presented itself - and he seized it.
"You will not harm these people!"
He held his blade - previously disguised as a walker - over his head and ran toward the stricken Kunoichi. Fuuka tried to sort herself out. Spasmodically, she opened her eyes. She was just able to fend off the onrushing blade with her Kunai. The man attacked again, and the razor-sharp weapon whizzed toward her. The burning feeling inside her came back even stronger than before, so she was only able to stumble backwards to avoid his attack.
Fuuka looked exhausted and battered. The fight she had to wage with herself took far more strength than the confrontation with that old man, who under normal circumstances would have been of course no match for her at all.
Suddenly, her eyes snapped open.
This feeling...
"No, impossible!" she thought aloud.
Could it be that...
All at once things seemed to become clear to her as she remembered.
She knew by now that Furido had sealed a part of the nine-tailed fox spirit inside Sora when he was very young. Even though Fuen suggested that the Kyubi's Chakra must have already left Sora, a fraction of his demonic essence still seemed to have been inside him.
When she absorbed Sora's body and spirit, that essence must have passed to her. However, since the amount of Chakra in Sora turned out to be much less than in Naruto, she did not notice its presence immediately. Only after she channeled her Chakra to cast her Jutsu did the foreign Chakra inside her make itself known to her.
Meanwhile, the old man did not let up. Once again, he charged at the Kunoichi and lunged with his blade to finish off the red-haired woman.
Fuuka grabbed his arm without looking at him. Her long red hair covered her face. Slowly, she lifted her gaze. She gave him a distorted, monstrous grin. The man sobbed at the sight.
Fuuka's pupils had shrunk to a small size. Her eyes sparkled a faint orange. Her hair began to take on a life of its own as her body slowly straightened, in an abnormal manner.
"D-D-Demon!"
Her hair extended out and clasped the old man practically everywhere, in almost every part of his body. His wooden blade hit the ground.
"You should have run when you had the chance, Grandpa."
Fuuka's voice gave off a strange echo. Another strand of her hair extended in the form of a claw and completely wrapped around the man's head, making his face invisible. The other strands retracted as she slowly lifted him off the ground with the force of her hair alone.
The man's arms and legs wriggled wildly in the air. Finally, he grabbed her hair and tried to pry it away from his face or pull it out - to no avail.
"Fool!"
The man apparently not only ran out of strength, but also out of air. Gradually his resistance broke and he stopped struggling. She flung him from her with the help of her hair. The man crashed into the nearest stand that was on his trajectory. Fuuka wasn't sure if she heard the wood or the man's old bones crack and break. As the smoke from the impact cleared, she saw the old man slowly pick himself back up.
"I'm impressed. I would have expected much less from an old geezer like you."
Around them, the lights of the surrounding homes came on sporadically. Apparently the noise in the marketplace disturbed the sleep of some of the villagers.
"I think it would be better if you told me where that scroll is."
Fuuka smiled kindly at him. Her words contrasted sharply with her almost endearing expression.
"Or do you want to have to watch your village friends die, one by one?"
The owner of the stall that had just been destroyed also noticed that his loved ones had been awakened. One by one, people stepped out of their parlors. He looked pleadingly at Fuuka and hesitated, but then he gave in. He pointed to the golden statue.
"There! There you'll find the scroll you seek!"
Fuuka walked up to the man, grabbed him by the collar, and lifted him off the ground with only one hand.
"See? Didn't hurt at all, did it?"
She gave him another smile, but then let go of him again, causing him to hit the ground ungently. She grabbed her hip with one hand and lifted her chin as she looked down at the old man.
"Too bad you have no respect whatsoever. For women, I mean."
Then the woman held her right hand in front of her face and opened her lips. Her open mouth sucked in the air around her. Circulating balls of Wind-Chakra formed in front of her face.
Fuuka shot the wind orbs like projectiles against the surrounding landscape.