Hollowfied

By: Finn Mertenz

A/N: PinKrystal - I know underlining for internal dialogue can be very jarring, but that's the point. When the reader sees an underlined statement, I want them to know it's internal dialogue.

Italics bring more empathize to a statement, while bold makes it more prominent. When reading this story, it's important to understand how my brain works.

I want you (the reader) to hear each statement, to hear their voices in your own mind. I want you to become lost in the page, so, by underlining the internal dialogue, I create imaginary.

It's just my style of writing.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN NARUTO OR BLEACH. I DO NOT CLAIM TO OWN THEM.


Chapter 8: Gaara's Barrier! Push It To The Limit.

Monday 2:39pm, August 29th 2020 A.D.

"Geez, what a drag..." Shikamaru sighed.

Scratching his scalp with the cloth-covered hilt of his tantō, this Lieutenant was basked by sunlight. Dripping fresh blood from his Zanpakutō, Shikamaru manipulated the surrounding shadows.

Propped with his curved back against a stone wall, Gaara's face was obscured by spiky hair. Defined by a prominent wound across his left shoulder, crimson ooze poured over a limp torso.

"Are you okay?! Answer me!" Hinata panicked, controlled by a darkened veil.

"I don't want to do this... But the old man has his ways." Shikamaru cleaned his ears.

As the Lieutenant of Squad Seven, Shikamaru took direct orders from his immortal Captain. But, the command of Head Captain Hiruzen transcended all, organizing a defense of the Seireitei.

Answering this call, Shikamaru stood in the compound of his squad, lined with orange-tiled roofs. As pebbles of dirt and debris sprawled over his feet, this Lieutenant was filled with boredom.

"I'm bleeding?!" Gaara screeched.

Writhing in panic, pale eyes developed into widen saucers, screaming like a frightened child. Panting and gasping for breath, Gaara clenched the gash on his chest, staining both hands with blood.

Constantly mocked and bullied for his red hair, Gaara understood the sensation of pain. However, the sight of gore was a new depiction for his eyes, scarring his green-tinted pupils.

Scoffing in annoyance, Shikamaru slashed the air with his awakened Zanpakutō. Forced to move, Hinata became a puppet to spiraling shadows, charging across the barren street.

With blood-shot eyes, Gaara's voice was abruptly tainted by a horrific and demonic pitch. Shielded by a torrent of white sand and crumbled stone, this screaming student was swallowed.

Embarrassed by the jostling movement of her short skirt, Hinata blushed with squinted eyes. Enthralled by dark shapes, she leapt through the air, moving with decades of experience.

Lazily yawning, Shikamaru directed this helpless girl with his empowered Zanpakutō. Despite its short length, this blade was emboldened by blue chakra, sparkling like vibrant sapphire.

Caught off guard, Shikamaru's mouth fell open, traumatized by a hostile gust of sand. Bridging the crescent hill of a grainy mound, the porcelain mask of a white racoon was lined with jagged teeth.

Characterized by a vertical stripe across his left cheek, this sharpened art was bright green. Masked by a rabid pair of slatted yellow eyes, these pupils twitched with untapped bloodlust.

Howling with the empty voice of a Hollow, Gaara lost his humanity, clawing at the earth. Sundering the cobbled Sekkiseki beneath him, this rogue Ryoka grew twisted nails in mere seconds.

"What are you?!" Shikamaru slurred to speak.

Met by a blood-curdling roar, the Lieutenant of Squad Seven was briefly paralyzed by fear. Robbed of his focus, Hinata broke free from Shikamaru's swirling shadows, lunging for safety.

Without any delay, Gaara surged across the narrow alley, uprooting chunks of Sekkiseki. Struggling to respond, Shikamaru narrowly blocked a sandy paw, knocking him through several walls.

Sliding over dislodged rock, this Lieutenant twirled over a puddle of sand, rushing to consume him. With just another time to land on a towering roof, Shikamaru was shrouded by Gaara's mask.

That wasn't a Shunpo?! Racing to his conclusion, sweat swelled.

Jarring and crooked, snapped and twisted, Gaara's nimble fingers gripped Shikamaru's shoulder. Expelling a vortex of sand from his palms, this shrieking student buried his elite opponent.

Gnawing at the sturdy surface of his mask, cracked shards of white were torn loose. Extinguished by the dreadful pressure of Gaara's wail, green Reiatsu polluted the air, darkening the sky.

Spread like the sprawling mist of a poisonous haze, this corrosive aura was full of hate. Undaunted by this revelation, Shikamaru jumped from loose sand, engulfed by a barrier of shadows.

Denting the disheveled tiles of a collapsed wall, wooden sandals clapped against asphalt. Lifting the razor edge of his Zanpakutō towards the sky, Shikamaru's face reflected off pristine metal.

Broken and shattered without any effort, Gaara's bones were crushed by his own power. Plunging a fiendish hand underground, a 4ft katana was yanked from shifting sand, curved and coiled.

Wrapped in the tattered outline of a tan cloak, this fabric was pinned by an array of needles. Devoid of a cross-guard, rustic nails jutted from the worn hilt, ancient and primordial.

Piercing Gaara's palm, this mindless boy was oblivious to the bloody wound, howling without end. With eyes as wide as the eclipsed sun, Shikamaru swallowed a wad of spit, straining to breath.

"A-... A Zanpakutō?!" Shikamaru was utterly baffled.

An orphan without any family or friends, Gaara regularly moved from town to town, a drifter. Before settling in Karakura, his old childhood was just a blur, erased and tampered by Minato.

Born a Human, Gaara had passed beyond the boundaries of mortality, reaching the darkest result. Transformed into a demon, Gaara was more Hollow than Human, an experiment of the Hōgyoku.

Unsheathing the decayed edge of his Zanpakutō, Gaara's rage morphed into tainted laughter. Cackling like a mad hyena, his auburn eyes glittered and gleaned like maple stones of topaz.

"Dissolve Into Dust - Shukaku." Gaara's voice was dry.

Enamored by this vocal command, his Zanpakutō was disintegrated into Reiatsu-filled sand. Swelling to the height of a mountain, a shifting tsunami took shape, crushing the entire compound.


Meanwhile.

"Looks like the fun has already started..." Anko meowed.

Leaping from roof to roof, this fuzzy feline was defined by black fur, soft and squashy. Ignored by the Soul Reapers below, she was treated like a normal house cat, ignorant of her true identity.

Moving with Captain-level speed, this cat frantically searched for Naruto and his lost friends. Swearing an oath to protect him, Anko's secret was carved upon Kushina's unmarked grave.


Meanwhile.

"What was that?!" Rin stammered.

Hidden inside a desolate and isolated warehouse, this underaged girl was alone with Sasuke. Seated atop a wooden crate, both legs swayed from side-to-side, clicking her school shoes.

"I don't know... But it doesn't sound good." Sasuke replied.

Startled by a fiery geyser of flames, the warehouse was spilt in two, scorched and burnt. Rushing to rescue his friend, Sasuke accidently grabbed Rin's butt, jumping atop a mound of crates.

Engulfed by violet flames, the petite outline of Ryūzetsu strolled through the blaze. A fourteen year old Soul Reaper, this slim girl was the third seat of Squad Eleven, specializing in combat.

Adorned with a black shihakushō, this outfit was held in place by a skin-tight white sash. With both sleeves ripped from her attire, Ryūzetsu's dark skin was complimented by rippled white eyes.

As shoulder-length white hair hung past her face, strands of silver obscured her right eye. Standing at the height of a school girl, Ryūzetsu was the same weight and size as Rin.

Damnit... They've finally found us. Sasuke cursed his misfortune.

Muffled by the pulsating arch of a sapphire bow, this throbbing weapon was tightly gripped. Emanating from the silver cross on Sasuke's right wrist, this blob of blue singed the surrounding air.

"If you tell me where Sakura is... I'll let you live." Spitting in disgust, his hatred for Soul Reapers was profound.

"Sakura? The Lieutenant that went missing for a few weeks?" Ryūzetsu hummed.

"That's a shallow and short friendship, it's not worth risking your life." As Ryūzetsu spoke, she twirled her hair.

Sliding both feet across the wooden barrels below, Sasuke clenched his teeth with rage. Lowering Rin to her feet, this young girl ran for safety, rolling behind a stacked pile of crates.

"I don't know much about her... And I really don't care." Sasuke snarled.

Robbed of his family and clan, Sasuke lost everything that once gave him meaning. Even Shisui had mysteriously disappeared, leaving this young Quincy as nothing but an abandoned child.

Sasuke knew that Ryūzetsu was far beyond an average Soul Reaper, enthralled by white Reiatsu. He knew that this battle would put his life on the line, but he refused to back down, unwilling to kneel.

Naruto... I haven't forgotten what you did for me... Clenching his bow, the ground was crushed by blue Reiatsu.


Meanwhile.

"I sense a handful of Reiryoku…" Guy leered.

Running down a barren alley, the Captain of Squad Eleven was accompanied by his Lieutenant. A young girl that clung to his shoulder, Moegi's orange hair rustled against thrashing wind.

"Most of them are weak and pathetic..." Sighing in frustration, his feet clapped with each step.

"But one of them..." Focused on Naruto's presence, he groaned.

As darkened clouds parted from overhead, rays of sunlight sparkled down upon Guy. Running with obscene speed, his haori dramatically wavered in the breeze, whipping and contorting.

Minato... Have you finally come back? Confusing Naruto with his old friend, he continued to run.


Meanwhile.

The ground shook as the air was thick and clouded by demonic Reiatsu, the power of a Hollow. As distant walls became cracked and fissured, loose tiles fell from their roofs, clanging the cobbled street.

Carrying the destructive force of a tornado, torrents of sand crushed everything under their girth. Creating stagnant clouds of dust and debris, the earth tremored with the strength of a quake.

One, two and three times the earth was struck, by the horrendous pitch of a Hollowfied laugh. Lost in his own insanity, Gaara's porcelain mask was jarred and twisted, grinning with delight.

"This is becoming troublesome..." Shikamaru moaned.

Dodging stream after stream, this Lieutenant panted with exhaustion, covered in splats of dirt. Throughout his career as a Soul Reaper, he never experienced such hateful and dark Reiatsu.

Damaged and shabby, his shihakushō was partially enveloped by small holes and wide gashes. Held in place only by his Division Badge, this makeshift belt was the saving grace for his attire.

Outstretching both arms, Shikamaru waved the tip of his Zanpakutō, pointing it at Gaara. Unleashing a darken aura of shadows, blue Reiatsu permeated the air, lunging out in all directions.

Captured by this void, Gaara continued to laugh without any concern, snapping his bones. Barely able to stand under the pressure he released, his cackle was distilled by rage and pain.

Jotling his limbs with crooked moment, this deranged boy was unhindered by the surrounding darkness. Developing saucer-like eyes in response, Shikamaru was left speechless with an opened mouth.

Overwhelmed, the Shikai silhouette of Shikamaru's Zanpakutō was completely shattered. Spewing metallic shards and shredded linen, this Lieutenant was pressed to his feet, gasping for air.

Preparing the final strike, Gaara convulsed as his organs were crushed from the inside. Brought to his limit, the Hollowfied Reiatsu he employed was too much for his young body to bare.

Broken under this weight, Gaara's mask was fractured and torn, chipping off into loose flakes. Falling unconscious, his lifeless face collided against white Sekkiseki, falling fast asleep.


Meanwhile.

Bisecting the rigid wall of a stone warehouse, dozens of vibrant arrows swelled like sapphire. Deflected by the unleashed Shikai of Ryūzetsu's blade, this Zanpakutō was bathed in purple fire.

A subjective and fiery variant of a 5ft katana, this Zanpakutō was enshrined by a circular cross-guard. Laden with silky fabric, the hilt was wrapped and cushioned, held between two hands.

"You won't get far... My Tanrō scorches to the bone." Ryūzetsu proclaimed.

Speaking with a detailed explanation of her Zanpakutō, portions of dark skin were alight. Sprawled and spread across her petite figure, portions of twirling flames clung to Ryūzetsu's body.

Using herself as a generator of heat, this Soul Reaper was unaffected by the searing inferno. Sweltering into an obsidian blister, surrounding Sekkiseki was singed into bubbling white ooze.

Launching arrow after arrow, these rushing projectiles were met by Ryūzetsu's raging blade. Parrying each of these attacks, the air was posioned by dislodged and heated sparks of blue.

"Besides... You look good enough to eat." Licking her mouth, Ryūzetsu sneered.

Startled by the surging speed of his opponent, Sasuke gasped as Ryūzetsu appeared behind him. Veiled by crackling embers of violet, he blindly fired an arrow over his left shoulder.

Colliding against a wall of flames, a twisting vortex of blue and purple erupted into existence. Squinting as piles of broken wood flew past her face, Rin's hair was repetitively battered by wind.

"A Quincy... I've never had your blood before." Moaning with joy, her voice was muffled.

A fresh Soul Reaper with barely a decade of experience, she heard of the Quincy only as legends. Rare and few, this forgotten clan was nothing but a myth, a dead bloodline from ancient times.

If he can do that... What good am I? Rin cursed her weakness.

Prizing combat above all else, the members of Squad Eleven were built for war and conflict. Bewitched by Guy's vigorous training, the concept of youth was drilled into all of his subordinates.

Enchanted by this train of thought, Ryūzetsu lunged at the invading Ryoka, sweeping her blade. Melting under the girth of this Zanpakutō, the air boiled into a stinging mist, like volcanic ash.

Striking the base of a blue arrow, a volatile shockwave rippled the stone floor, crumbling and cracking. Dampened by the sound of metal against rock, residual cinders polluted the skyline.

Born into a world of war, Sasuke lived his young life as a fleeing child, hunted from the very beginning. Since birth, his existence was spent on the run, originally protected by Shisui, but now, alone.

Fighting for his vanished family, and the life he once had, Sasuke yearned for purpose and meaning. Finding value inside of Naruto, this Quincy was prepared to put his life on the line.


Ten minutes later.

"I hope we're safe here..." Hinata whispered aloud.

Holding the unconscious silhouette of Gaara in her lap, she stroked loose strands of crimson hair. Examining the strangely-healed gash across his chest, Hinata blushed at the sight of skin.

He won fair and square... Just leave. Shikamaru lazily sighed.

Enamored by this memory, Hinata dragged Gaara to an isolated garden, masked by lush trees. As shadows shed from overhanging branches, the sun was sparkling while clouds swirled.

"Everyone else is so amazing, and unique..." Hinata muttered.

Naruto, Sasuke and Gaara each possessed their own traits and abilities, even Rin contributed her share. But Hinata always felt like an afterthought, irrelevant and useless, like no one needed her.

"And then there's me." Wrinkling her skirt, Hinata sat on both knees.

Unlike her friends, she couldn't shoot arrows, manipulate sand or summon a massive blade to her defense. Instead, Hinata was just a normal girl, except for her high presence of Reiryoku.

With subtle tears falling from her face, these frigid drops splashed against Gaara's sleeping face. Crying with unkempt eyes, the needle-pricked silhouette of a Zanpakutō rested beside her feet.


Meanwhile.

Paved by the repetitive beat of a metallic gong, Hiruzen sat in a short and rectangular stool. With crossed legs and a muffled groan, he stroked his goatee, exposing the liver spots on his face.

"Welcome, all of you." Hiruzen boomed.

Following these words, twelve separate Captains were put on display, defined by a white haori. Standing between Orochimaru and Jiraiya, Tsunade stood with lumbering breasts, the Captain of Squad Four.

As pale blond hair draped to her back, these strands were tied into an extended ponytail. Complimenting her fair skin and auburn brown eyes, Tsunade's breasts bulged like glowing mountains.

Leering forward to sneak a peek, Jiraiya was blindly struck in the nose, hurled backwards. Crashing against a stone wall of Sekkiseki, this Captain fell to his face, twitching with agony.

"Where's Guy? Shouldn't he be here?" Kurenai cut in.

The twenty-seven year old Captain of Squad Two, she held this position for almost twelve years. With fair skin and a slender build, she had long and untamed black hair, hung to her back.

Wearing the horizontal strap of her Zanpakutō, the hilt and sheath were layered in linen. Matching the twisted garb around her fingers, both hands were obscured by pristine ribbons.

"He's a brute, he's too busy chasing his own tail." Itachi muttered.

Stroking strands of black hair, the Captain of Squad Three stood between Kakashi and Kimimaro. Receiving a disgruntled gaze in response, Danzo snapped a wooden cane against the floor.

A sixty-eight year old Captain of Squad Nine, Danzo inherited this rank after the disappearance of his former Captain. Wrapped in thick bandages, his scalp and right eye were hidden from sight.

Sharing a vibrant and lively childhood with Hiruzen, these Soul Reapers died over a thousand years ago. Now, Danzo used this relationship to his advantage, a twin-tailed snake with no trust.

"Changing the conversation?" Danzo hummed.

Like Orochimaru and Obito, Danzo was one of the few who knew about Itachi's secret. Lecturing this disguised Quincy, he laid accusation after accusation, rigging the blame upon him.

"Calm down, everyone... You old guys can be so hostile." Haku scratched his ear.

The Captain of Squad Ten, this young Soul Reaper stood between Obito and Asuma. Denoting his rank, Asuma was the Captain of Squad Seven, holding a singed and burning cigarette in his mouth.

While Haku's snow-white Zanpakutō was strapped to his back, the cross-guard resembled a hilt. However, Asuma's blade was short and divided, wielding a crimson pair of Wakizashi around his waist.

The fabled son of Hiruzen, Asuma died several years after his father, traveling to the Soul Society. Now, he was bathed in a white haori with tan skin and a prominent goatee, framed by black hair.

"Just let them fight it out, they always do this." Asuma sighed.

"What purpose does this meeting serve? The Ryoka are just normal Humans." Danzo sneered.

Gathered together, three noble heads stood in the same room, filled with royal blood. The Sarutobi, the Yuki and Kaguya Houses each shared a prestigious name, well known and feared.

"I'm sure each of you have already sensed it..." Hiruzen rubbed his liver spots.

Met by awkward glances, the aged and veteran Captains understood his true meaning. A familiar and distinct Reiryoku polluted the air, the iconic pressure of an Uzumaki bloodline.

Twelve years ago, the former Captain of Squad Twelve was also the head of the Uzumaki house. Banished after mingling with a Quincy, this Captain was defined by blond hair and blue eyes.

"Minato? Nonsense. He's hiding in the human world." Orochimaru retorted.

Swelling into a heated argument, everyone except Haku had a vivid memory of Minato. Earning his Captain rank at the same time as this Uzumaki, Kimimaro shared a odd sense of brotherhood.

"It's not what you think... This child, he's nothing like that man." Kimimaro spat.

"I've fought him, and he's just an afterthought. It's a case of mistaken identity." Revealing a naked chest, his green eyes were lazy.

Interrupted by the alarming snap of a mallet against a gong, the conversation ended. Signaling the growing tension of an invasion, Kimimaro strolled out the room, walking to his compound.

"This meeting is postponed until further notice..." Hiruzen coughed a cloud of smoke.

As various Captains nodded in agreement, they filed together before leaving the room. Standing without any movement, Itachi was eventually shrouded by Obito's mask, veiled in silence.

"This is rather convenient for you..." Obito's crimson eye narrowed.

"When your secret was moments away, everyone leaves." Muffled by an orange mask, his haori draped.

Blindly glaring at the Captain of Squad Five, these opposing silhouettes held blood-red eyes. Swallowed by the extended cloth of his sleeves, Itachi's fair skin was hidden and obscured.

"Are you trying to say something?" Itachi spoke with blank eyes.

"First you spy on me. Then you feint innocence?" Obito's voice was rasp.

Despite his high-level of stealth, Itachi's previous interference didn't go unnoticed. Spying without discrimination, he leered and snuck upon everyone, even the Head Captain, Hiruzen.

"You should be more careful... Next time, I won't play dumb." Strolling forward, the air was frigid.

Empowered by the icy breath of Haku, this young Captain stood against a stone wall. With both arms crossed in front of his chest, he briefly glanced at Itachi before leaving the room.


Meanwhile.

"This is bullshit." Tayuya snarled.

Walking down the exterior hall of a wooden path, this Soul Reaper was accompanied by Kankuro. The Lieutenant of Squad Three, his black hat had a pair of cat-like ears, jutting out.

"As usual, you're a real bundle of joy." Kankuro sighed.

"I can't believe they called a meeting, morons." Spitting in disgust, Tayuya scoffed.

Approaching an ornate doorway, Tayuya gripped this entrance before sliding it open. Met by the iconic crunch of a potato chip, Choji sat on the floor, stuffing his face with crumb-covered hands.

The Lieutenant of Squad Two, he served directly under Kurenai, the head of the Stealth Force. With a rotund build, this fat Soul Reaper was barely covered by the widening girth of his shihakushō.

"..." Muffled by a mouthful of food, Choji choked.

Seated beside an ornate mound of food, Choji's Zanpakutō was stacked against this pile. Characterized by a blue hilt and a black sheath, this katana possessed a circular cross-guard.

Clenching her teeth, Tayuya blew the crimson hair from her face, restrained by her bandana. Followed by a hostile groan, Karin limped into the room, hiding the teeth marks on her arms.

"Sorry I'm late... I didn't want to leave the bed." Karin yawned.

Immortal and eternal, Soul Reapers didn't have to eat or sleep, but they still found pleasure in it. Because of this, Choji regularly stuffed his face, while Karin spent quality time with her Captain.

Rushing out of bed, Karin forgot to bring her Zanpakutō, leaving her with an isolated strap. At the same time, several other Zanpakutō filled the room, each held by a specific Soul Reaper.

"It's fine... No one else is coming." Shizune cut in.

The Lieutenant of Squad Four, this twenty-six year old Soul Reaper had pale skin. Framed by well-kempt black hair, spiky bangs protruded over black eyes, matching her shihakushō.

"These youngsters don't know anything." Ibiki spat.

The twenty-eight year old Lieutenant of Squad Nine, Ibiki understood secrecy more than anyone. Littered with countless scars, his black shihakushō was paired with an inked bandana.

"There's no Shikamaru, Moegi or Kagerō." Homura declared.

Looming over the middle-aged silhouette of Yugito, these Lieutenant's held the most experience. Summoned together, this meeting ended as quickly as it began, dampened by a metallic gong.

"I've felt that Reiatsu before!" Tayuya ran out the room.

While several Lieutenant's mistook this spiritual pressure with a Captain, Tayuya knew better. She fought against this Reiryoku before, the same power that radiated from Naruto.


Thirty minutes later.

"Search over there... If you find the Ryoka, bring them to me." Orochimaru groaned.

Clenching and contorting the pale skin of his right hand, this Captain was as white as his haori. The head of Research and Development, Orochimaru loved to experiment and test, especially on the unwilling.

Standing inside the damaged remnants of Squad Twelve's compound, Sekkiseki littered the road. Stained with the dried blood of Dosu and Naruto, these white rocks were distained and discolored.

"If they took out Dosu... They'll make interesting research." Muffled by popping joints, he licked his lips.

Propped with his back against a crumbled wall, Dosu was slouched with a crooked spine. As tattered bandages hung from his black shihakushō, a gasping mouth was obscured by linen.

"I failed you... Captain, but I acquired some handy info." Dosu coughed.

Moaning with sexual anticipation. Orochimaru snapped his neck at an impossible angle. Exposing his reptilian and slatted yellow eyes, he loomed over his defeated subordinate.

"I don't know how many there are... But one of these Ryoka is very powerful." Coughing blood, his mind was infected by Naruto.

Detailing the hair and strange whiskers that framed his face, Dosu explained everything. Fascinated by the vibrant and sky blue eyes of this invader, Orochimaru briefly thought about his predecessor.

"Make sure the other Squads don't find them... I need the experiments." Orochimaru spat at a surrounding crowd.

Dispersing this group in mere seconds, the Captain of Squad Twelve was left alone. As Dosu was dragged to the relief station for Squad Four, Orochimaru stood beside his Lieutenant.

A 13 year old girl, this Soul Reaper was known as Kagerō, a quiet and mysterious teen. With snow-white skin and minty green hair that jutted over her shoulders, several strands spiked like daggers.

Gazing at the ground with deep blue eyes, her pupils were blank and devoid of emotion. Dressed in a black shihakushō with a white sash, an iron collar was strapped around her neck.

"I don't expect anything... But..." Distracted by Naruto's appearance, Orochimaru hummed.

Interrupted by a black butterfly, this fluttering insect was framed by purple wings. Piercing the horizon, it landed atop Kagerō's fingertips, promptly lowered in front of her lifeless face.

"The Lieutenant of Squad Seven, Shikamaru Nara, has encountered a Ryoka." Kagerō recited the fresh news.

Taken by this realization, Orochimaru's mouth fell open, turning to confront his subordinate. Gripping each of her shoulders, he shook her tiny figure, enamored by the startling statement.

"Squad Seven already has a Ryoka?!" Orochimaru slurred.

"No... Shikamaru lost, and the Ryoka's whereabouts are unknown." Kagerō exclaimed.

Reciting the number of intruders, and their last known location, the Ryoka grew in force. With each explanation, the Captain of Squad Twelve grew more curious, giggling without end.

Trailing down the disheveled street, he was met by a puzzling gaze from his Lieutenant. Taking several moments to wave an encouraging hand, he sighed with annoyance and boredom.

"This just got interesting… Come along, idiot." Orochimaru teased his subordinate.


Meanwhile.

Gnawed and torn, the skeletal tip of Sasuke's bones were bathed by beams of sapphire. Quivering arrow after arrow, blood dripped to the floor, encircled by a ring of violet flames.

"I don't know why you'd go this far for Sakura..." Ryūzetsu gagged.

"But you're pretty good... For a dead clan." Jesting with a wide smile, she moaned.

Broken under the weight of a rampaging battle, the surrounding streets were dislodged. Stacked like mounds of crumbled and cracked stone, the air was posioned with a cloud of dust.

Tattered and ripped, portions of Ryūzetsu's attire was singed, exposing her naked stomach. Impervious to the crackling embers of fire, her skin was dark and vivid, veiled by cinders.

Fuming with rage, drops of spit flung from Sasuke's mouth, extinguished by his throbbing bow. Drawing an arrow of such size, his stained body was illuminated by blinding aura.

"Naruto wants to save her, and that's good enough for me." Sasuke sneered.

Sasuke didn't care about himself, or the lives of his classmates, he valued only the Quincy clan. And now, given the chance to redeem his families honor, he would stop at nothing to fulfil this dream.

I haven't forgotten what you did for me. Drowning in blue light, Sasuke launched his arrow, the size of a gigantic spear.