Author's note (2020/04/15): Hey everyone! I hope you are all well! This is by far the longest chapter I've written thus far for this fic - and the most crazy. I hope you enjoy this week's chapter! This serves as the official turning point for the story before we reach the climax and ending, so I hope I wrote this chapter with justice. I had a hard time writing this one because I often doubt my abilities as a writer and I hate all my work, but I've had some encouragement as of late through friends and PMs alike - so thank you all for reading!
I hope to have this story finished by the end of quarantine - whenever that may be. Stay strong!
cheers, my dudes xx
(see end for more notes...)
Chapter 68
The Mark of Death
The air was brisk with an unfamiliar cold, shuddering the tree leaves above.
The sky looked ripe for rain, the dark cloud billowing while the winds whisked through the forested land. Near the far reaches of the Land of Wind's border, they reached the forest it shared with the neighboring Land of Rivers. A day's journey east, the forest was a stark contrast to the sands that claimed the barren hills of the desert. Green filled their sights, enveloping everything with its shelter and growth. The stench of death and betrayal overtook them upon arriving at the broken gates of the manse. It had been weeks since the mutiny of the once-powerful Hoki Family, but their commander insisted they take a brief detour to examine the scene of the bloodbath. Charred black by fire, the wooden frames crumbled to ash and peppered the grounds as they investigated the scene. Buildings were desolate, windows shattered, and dried crimson stained the earth and walls along with the rusted kunai and shuriken that etched their mark on the cobblestone. Many were left dead, their corpses picked apart by a sea of crows. As the tracker-nin squadron approached, the crows cawed and panicked, their black feathers littering their carrion as they took refuge within the trees. It was a truly grim sight to behold. Not a soul lingered in the Hoki family's compound, their voices lost to the brisk winds that claimed their final words of anguish.
"Commander Moro," A masked ninja appeared. "Not a single survivor is in the mansion. We've searched every floor, every room – no one."
Narrowing his greying eyes, Moro eyed the manse that loomed over them insidiously. "I see… so those bastards really did massacre all of them who remained." Directing his attention towards the shinobi at his back, he gave a swift nod. "Keep searching for clues before we move on! If there are any survivors, we must prepare an envoy to Suna."
"Yes, sir!"
Following her commander's orders, Nomasaki turned towards the manse, eyeing it suspiciously through the red slits of her mask. In the shuriken holster on her thigh, she could feel Gaara's flask of sand fluttering uneasily. Ominous. She imagined a chakra within the manse, emanating softly within the bowels of its main floor – but her senses were fuzzy if not gone completely. Her blood remained quiet and calm since that day, refusing to boil into the beast she once was only days ago.
"Sense something?"
Turning to meet his questioning gaze, she nodded. "Possibly," Looking back to the manse, she started on her path. "I have to check something out. I'll be right back."
Her march towards the grand entrance was grim, bodies of the guards sprawled and rotting at every turn. They had been dead for some time, she thought. Stepping through the porch, blood
painted the paper walls, their once immaculate imagery of birds painted in exquisite strokes of watercolor riddled away by the slashes of blades. Laying face down in the center of the room was a man, crimson staining the back of his fine robes. He had a bald head, gaunt hands, and appeared a frail shell of a leader once beloved.
Done in by his own sell-swords and renegades, she realized.
He must have been mad to do so – a fool.
Sensing the chakra linger faintly, she cautiously stepped further into the dark that pooled from the halls beyond. Reaching a stairwell, she descended into the darkness with a deep breath. The dark did not scare her, but not knowing what lingered beyond it chilled her. How others unlike her could survive without sensing chakra was beyond her understanding – and she would do anything to have it back. A light peeked through the vast walls of painting and scrolls.
A candle was lit – but by whom?
Reminding herself that she had her katana strapped to her back, Nomasaki proceeded cautiously. If Tenbu were still lurking beneath the shadows of the Hoki family's skeletons, they would not hesitate to leap forth and end her life as well. She was the one they truly wanted after all – the wolf. By all means, she was ready to put her life on the line and end things if need be – even if she was to be a sacrifice in the end. Creeping closer towards the candle, her grip on her katana's hilt relaxed. Riffling through the contents of an old chest, she saw a young woman clothed in a dark cloak. Her hair was an inky black, shining in the candlelight that coated her sights.
Catching wind of the tracker-nin behind her, the woman grew startled. Seeing only the wolfish visage poking out through the shadows, she jumped from its ghostly presence. "Don't kill me–!" She pleaded, cowering against the wall. "Please–!"
Realizing her fright, Nomasaki eased her stance. Finding a wolf-like face looking back at you from the shadows would frighten anyone, she reminded herself, guiltily. Stepping closer into the orange light, she gave a subtle nod, the hue of her purple eyes meeting the glimmer of soft ocean blue. "No, no – I'm here to help you." She assured. "Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm alright." She replied back, gathering herself and dusting off her kimono's lap. Her dress was made of very fine fabric, reminding her of the dead man upstairs. As she rose to meet her face to face, she saw her heart-shaped face framed by the silky black hair that flowed over her shoulders. A noblewoman, her beauty youthful and quaint. "I fled weeks ago… I only came back to recover my family's ancient texts and scrolls, I swear! Who are you? Not of Tenbu, I hope."
"I'm of Suna–?!"
As Nomasaki took a single step towards the woman, a shadow leapt from the darkness with a blade readied towards her, standing between them with their eyes red and blade gleaming. Before they could strike, Nomasaki countered with her katana, quickly unsheathing the weapon as the clang of metal rang within the shadows. The adversary was strong, her strike toned by many years of practice. Focusing on her enemy's glare, she soon realized it was a woman who held their blade against her. She was slender, clothed in a sleeveless flak jacket and dark mesh, her hair a sandy blonde and her eyes gleaming with red from the orange candlelight that surrounded them.
"Shijima! Stop!" The cloaked woman cried out. "She's not one of them!"
Glancing back to her, Shijima looked back at the wolf-masked intruder before her. Meeting her faint lilac eyes behind her mask, she glared in reluctance. Something about her eyes made her uneasy, the mask only accentuating that fact. Relaxing her blade, she stood before her in defiance.
"Speak, dog. Remove your mask." She demanded, her tone brisk. "Why are you here? Are you here for my elder sister and myself? Make your case – and fast."
Sheathing her katana into its place on her back, Nomasaki clasped her porcelain shroud with her palm, unlatching it carefully as they watched her with guarded expressions. The dog remark irked her, a slight smirk finding itself painted on her lips. "I take it you've never seen a wolf before," She spoke, her voice calm as she eyed them directly. "I mean you no harm, my lady. I'm a tracker-nin of Sunagakure."
The black-haired woman's blue eyes widened as she met her face from the shadows. Gold hair and purple eyes – those eyes. "A wolf? It's you–!" She gasped. "You're not… the lover of Kazekage-sama, are you?"
Taken aback, Nomasaki furrowed her brow slightly. "How would you know that–?!" Clicking in her mind, she jolted from her scattered memory. "Hakuto-sama?"
Smiling smoothly, the woman nodded. Hakuto of the noble Hoki family. It suddenly all made sense. Standing before her with the protection of her sister was the previous bride of the Kazekage – his betrothed from an arranged marriage gone awry. She was a beautiful woman, she could gather it with her own eyes. Risking her life to tell Gaara of Tenbu's plans was a great feat and she was indebted to her for that – surely, she was no enemy. "I wish the circumstances where we finally met were kinder," Hakuto lamented. "But I guess the desert gods have different plans for both of us, it would seem."
"They're not my gods," Nomasaki corrected, smiling lightly. "My only god is death, I'm sorry – but thank you for the kind words, my lady."
"Grim. You surely are a wolf, then…" Hakuto shuddered, grasping her cloak in her delicate fingers. "I must thank you for not attacking me. Forgive me, I thought the darkness would add more cover to myself."
Nomasaki narrowed her eyes slightly. "Why are you here? I was told you fled to Konohagakure?"
"We did," Shijima stepped closer, her arms folded against her chest. Her presence was intimidating, her eyes appearing an orange red and chakra that indicated a great deal of strength. "Our family's scrolls are all that remain from the coup. They're our history, it's all we have left besides the shirts on our backs – we have no more wealth, no more honor – nothing. We also came back to find any survivors who hid amongst the dead. There's an envoy to Konoha waiting for us back in the Land of Rivers with some of the clansmen who escaped the day of the mutiny. Our blood survives but the Land of Wind is no longer home for us… our lord father saw to that – the fool…"
Nomasaki nodded, solemnly. "I see… In that case," Putting on her snarling mask, she straightened her back, stern eyes meeting theirs with warning and caution. "As a tracker-nin of Suna, I bid you safe passage. I'll summon my comrades for you. The roads are dangerous these days, they can give you an escort from here to Konoha with your envoy."
"You're too kind, thank you." Hakuto sighed, bowing gratefully. "I'll be sure to tell the Konoha guards of your kindness!"
As they parted ways, Shijima gave Nomasaki a guarded stare. "Take care, wolf."
While she finished writing on the scroll, she rolled it up hastily, looping its bindings over until it was sealed. The air was still cold as the winds passed, heightening her suspicions of what lay ahead. It was the beginning of summer, yet the winds still tasted of the winter.
The wolf inside grew uneasy, as did the sands in her pocket.
"You sure they can be trusted?"
Turning to Moro as he approached, she gave a nod from behind her mask. "It was Hakuto-sama who relayed the intel to Kazekage-sama. I don't imagine she would risk her life to tell us of Tenbu if she wanted us dead." Standing, she held the scroll for him to take. "I have trust in them… Their chakra seemed normal – from what I could tell, at least."
"I suppose I'll take your word for it, then." Summoning a hawk, the bird perched on his leather-clad arm and ruffled its bronze feathers with a shriek. "Those were some of our best men who are escorting them… Let's hope Kazekage-sama's judgement is right." Taking the scroll from her, he glanced at it with a narrowed glare, then looked back to her. "Are you sure this was all the intel we've gathered thus far?"
She nodded. "Yes, Moro-sama. The only survivors were Hakuto-sama and her sister Shijima-sama. Any others have long since fled."
"I see… We should be reaching the outskirts of the Land of Claws by nightfall." Placing the scroll into the satchel on its back, he flung his arm upwards and the hawk flew off into the clouded skies. "Our reinforcements from Suna should meet up with us by daybreak so we can storm Tenbu's supposed hideout with a swift iron fist. Our brief detour here at the Hoki Family's estate cost us some time… but it was worth the scouting. Tenbu moved north, the trail of blood they left behind only makes it more obvious."
"Sir," She pressed. "I should be the one... to scout first."
Moro turned back, alarmed. "Why is that?"
She averted her eyes within her mask, shame and guilt swirling within her. "...I'm the target. Let me draw them out." Looking up into his dark eyes, her glance firmed. "There's no need for you all to sacrifice your lives for me. If my death means that Sunagakure will be spared, then so be it."
"I see... So you're truly a shinobi of Suna through-and-through." Moro stepped closer, drawing in her wide eyes. "We're a tactical unit. We deploy together, regardless who of us is a target. We share our burdens, not suffer through them alone."
Surprised, she looked up to him. "Moro-sama,"
He turned on his heel, directing his attention to the rest of the unit. "Men! It's time we move out. We have eight hours to reach the outskirts, so I suggest you take formation and follow my lead!"
Stepping forward towards the tracker-nin lined in formation, he gave a commandeering scowl from his burnt face. Even as she stood with her comrades, she could not help but feel something was gone awry. The winds blew mercilessly, the treetops swaying around them in the cold. Masked behind her wolfish visage, she stood in silence as her commanding officer bellowed his orders to the squad of nine masked shinobi, their animal masks gleaming in the sun before the demonic grin of their leader's porcelain shroud.
Death was all around them.
The sky grew heavy with dread as they bounded through the dense forest of green. Shadows lingered at every corner, the last of the sunlight snuffed out by the clouds and treetops. Beside at his right-hand, Nomasaki kept forward with the pace. Using her human form for missions was proving no easy feat, her muscles aching with each leap and jump from the branches. As a beast, she could run tirelessly for miles, her senses guiding her to her destination.
Today was not such a day.
Her senses were foggy, the chakra of her comrades close by not even describable. Moro's chakra of scorch-release and fire did not so much as make her shiver anymore, and Sōhei's feathery wind-release chakra could no longer be felt on the winds even as he leapt behind her in formation. Only his owl mask identified him to her now, her blood boiling no longer. The life of a human would be more difficult than she thought.
"We're less than ten miles from the border of the Land of Claws!" Moro shouted. "All of you, get into your positions! We'll be taking Formation B until our reinforcements arrive!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Nomasaki, you'll be sticking close to me." Moro spoke, his demonic mask eyeing her. "We'll need your chakra detection to figure out how many reside within those mines."
She felt her stomach clench from the words. She could hardly sense the chakra of her squadron, let alone scout out the presence of her enemies. That was far off from her reach as it was. It had been a tumultuous few months since her initial swipe with the ginkō that marked her arm in its scarring, but the guilt and shame that shot through her was unimaginable. She was never one to make the best decisions – as hard as they may be – but the flaw and its consequence was staring her straight in the eyes.
"Yes, Moro-sama," She gathered herself, leaping from a branch. "I'll do my best."
For a moment, his darkened eyes lingered upon her mask, peering at her hidden fear through the slits of his demon's eyes. As the skies thundered and greyed, the trees grew silent while the nine tracker-nin dispersed into the thicket. Their katanas ready at their backs, their animalistic shrouds scanned for any black garbs bearing the name Tenbu. Shielding herself behind a tree trunk covered in dewy mosses, Nomasaki lay in wait near her commander, her wolfish mask peering out for foes with its menacing red eyes. No chakra could be felt around her, chilling her spine with each tingle from the cold winds that surrounded them.
"There appears to be no one around the perimeter," Sōhei spoke, hushed by the winds as he sat knelt beside them. "No sign yet of our reinforcements either, Moro-sama."
"Damn it all… Guess we'll have to spare more time for them to reach us," Moro grunted. He turned back to his right-hand as Sōhei returned to his rightful place. "Nomasaki, can you sense any chakra nearby?"
Swallowing her fear, she returned her gaze towards the thicket ahead. Only darkness and shadow lay before them, eclipsed by the towering brush and trees while the skies grew heavy with thunder and rain. Forming a single hand-sign, she shut her eyes tightly.
She still had to try – for them.
Gritting her teeth as she focused, she felt as if her temples would burst. Nothing. Not a single fiber of chakra dared to grace its presence to her, chilling her with her fear for the unknown. Her fingers trembled as she returned her hands to her sides.
"No, nothing." She said, coldly. "I can't sense anything."
Moro turned towards the shadows. "Peculiar. Are you certain?"
A shout erupted from the back of the formation before she could give an answer. "Commander Moro! Stand guard!" Blades readied in the still air. "Someone is approaching!"
"Why didn't you give us a warning?!" Moro whipped his head towards her. "We've been surrounded!"
She met his shocked and angered gaze with a panicked fear. "I couldn't sense them–!"
"Commander!"
A blinding flash of blue erupted in their sights.
In succession, three blinding blasts of blue flame burst forth from the front and back of their hidden formation. Cracking fissures into the reddened earth of growing wastes, trees were uprooted, boulder turned to dust, and blood painted the scarred forest floor. In a matter of moments, their plans had fell apart at the seams.
Broken.
Her head throbbed as she rose slowly from the impact. Her eyes opening through the cracks of her mask, pain sharply passed through her. Wincing, she hazily looked to her thigh where a shard of glowing ginkō was pierced. Blood leaked from her leg slowly as she tried to move, painting the earth below her. Hearing a muffled gurgle of flesh, she looked up to meet the crimson painted mask of Sōhei standing above her, a man dressed in black garbs with a blade to his throat.
"Sōhei! No!"
She cried on deaf ears.
With a jerk, Sōhei's neck sliced open, red spilling onto the owl that covered his face and his flak jacket. His body collapsed before hers with a sputtering thud, blood drowning the earth beneath him. Eyeing her in his sights, the man dressed in the black garbs loomed over her as she lay bleeding. A beast was marked upon his breastplate, snarling over his chest. Her eyes widened from meeting it in her sights. For the first time in her life, the emblem was clear to her. The beast shaped to that of a bear, the symbol of the Kumatsume clan as she remembered from stories from her father.
She felt as if her blood turned cold.
Memories of horror flashed before her – the mountains of snow, the fires of her home long since gone, the emblem of her enemies glistening from the fires of murder – the beast.
It was them – Tenbu – and she was beyond certain.
Tenbu arrived for her at last.
Before the man could make a move towards the trembling wolf before him, a blade shot through the air above her, pinning him and his entrails against the boulder behind him. His body twitched in death, the paper bombs that littered his chest under his garbs staying mournfully silent as the blood leaked over them.
"Can you stand?"
Pained, she turned back to see Moro inching closer on a limp, his leg torn and bleeding from the blast. One other tracker-nin survived, a relief. "Commander Moro–!"
As the agony of her leg throbbed through her, she bit her lip under her broken mask, pulling out the shard of glowing ginkō and casting it aside as she felt it scorch her hands. With a cry of pain, she flung it out from her thigh in a haze of red. It was not until she breathed the pain out of her lungs that she realized her flak jacket was shredded to ribbons and her mask was cracked across the bridge of her nose, near shattered into two separate fragments as she stood weakly from the crimson earth. He eyed her suspiciously, averting his glance as he prepared himself for more attackers.
"My suspicions are right, then. You did lose your powers."
She jolted. "You knew?"
"I could sense it in your eyes since you returned from Konoha… I saw it gone." He said. "I've been a shinobi much longer than you have, mind you. I can see things you cannot." Shuddering, he clutched the wound inflicted upon his torso, a deep gash splitting the skin from his shoulder to abdomen. It appeared as if only the leather of his garbs kept it closed. "Shit… the wound's deep…" He glanced back to her broken snarl. "It got you, too… Can you run?"
As she stood, she could feel her leg throb and tremble under her weight. Although the ginkō was gone, it still burned its way through her blood. Even her scar was unsettled, but not wolf stirred inside her. "I can hardly move as it is, I'm afraid. My leg… it's near numb."
"Damn the world," He laughed under his breath. "We're just sitting ducks then, if the enemy dares to show themselves. It'll be at least hours for reinforcements to arrive… if we're lucky." Glancing towards the shadows, his burnt scowl gleamed in a strange unseen empathy. "I knew what Kenzō had planned for you since the beginning," Startling her, she whipped her broken visage towards him, her gold hair slashing against her shattered snout of red while the winds blew past in foreboding. Spitting blood through his teeth, he gave a grin from his ghastly scarred face. "I did my best as commander… to protect my men… and our honor as shinobi of Suna! At least I can die knowing that…" Readying his jutsu, he forced himself to ignore the pain that shot through his leaking wounds. Forming a hand-sign with both arms outstretched towards the black-clad enemies who emerged from the trees, he swallowed his final rites. "Nomasaki, get out of here! Now!"
Her eyes widening as she recognized his jutsu, her body jolted. It was his famous scorch-release he was preparing, planning to flush out all remnants of Tenbu that lurked within the forest around them. He sealed his fate. "Commander Moro–!"
"Go!" He shouted back, focusing his chakra. "I said we'll be food for crows one day… death waits for no man. My time has come – but it's not time for you yet! Go, get out of here!"
Drawing her katana from the back of her tattered flak jacket, she gnashed her teeth as she pushed herself to take her stance at his side. "I'm done running away," She answered, her expression stern on the forest ahead. "If I'm to die – I'll die doing my duty!"
"My scorch-release has a trump-card… and I intend on using it in my final moments as a shinobi worthy of such a death." Moro barked, the strength of his chakra blowing around him, whipping the torn leather that clung to him. "It's noble you don't want to run… that means I've succeeded as your superior. But you're not the one marked for death on this day… that honor goes to me and me alone!" He glanced towards her, his dark eyes meeting hers of glistening violet. "Retreat today so you can live tomorrow! Now, Nomasaki – go!"
Holding back her emotions, she reluctantly slid her blade back into its place on her back. Giving him a final bow of servitude, she prepared herself for a jutsu by forming a hand-sign while she crouched down. "Thank you… for all that you've taught me…"
The winds picked up around her, transporting her far from the burst of orange flames that engulfed the scarred battlefield of red. Enveloping him in a casing of blood-orange fire, Moro's infamous scorch-release was activated for a final time – his mortal body acting as its final vessel. Just as the feared Pakura of Suna used her scorch-release in times of old, Moro was focusing all his might into his core, engulfing him in an act of certain suicide. Expanding with a deafening tome, the orb of magma-like fire swallowed the forest in its wake, taking in the few Tenbu assassins who lurked in the shadows, their paper-bomb-ridden bodies bursting as they were licked by the flames.
He was gone.
Only the rains quelled the fires that ravaged those cursed lands when they finally burst forth from the clouds above in fierce thunder. Far from the lands turned to ash, Nomasaki clutched her arm as she stumbled within the forest of black. Night approached faster than she could collect, her feet aware of the path she was forcing herself to take. The rains against her poured and struck her with a fierce cold she was not used to. The waters ran down the tears of her shirt onto her skin, chilling her as they reached her spine and pooled down her bleeding leg. Behind her in the footprints she left in the mud were her ravaged flak jacket and her wolfish mask, the crack more prominent than it was before, etching a deep scar across its snarling muzzle of red and white. Although her face was unscathed, her eyes were utterly defeated.
She failed.
A lost cause, she wandered the forest alone and with no senses to give her any hope for survival. She would be found soon enough, the faint trail of blood she was leaving behind would be her fate. Ripping through the rains of the aimless night, a howl broke across the winds. Freezing in her weary steps, her eyes shot open from the noise. The padding of paws against the wet foliage soon came after, growls rising as the pack closed in. Standing still as she reached the clearing surrounded by the towering trees around her, she soon saw the eyes of ghosts watching her from behind the shadows. Jolting her, she soon realized she was surrounded by the wolf pack of the Land of Wind. Snarling aggressively, the brown-furred alpha stepped closer towards her, its fur prickled on its arched back while its packmates closed in from the refuge of the trees, their growls echoing through her ears and heart.
"The wolves…!" She gasped, shocked. Begging for her blood to soon boil, she reached out a trembling blood-soaked hand towards the alpha's black nose. "I'm… one of you – so please –! Listen,"
Lunging, it barked towards her, causing her to fall back onto the mud. Gritting her teeth in pain from her wound, she tried again. Her lilac eyes saddened and pleading towards the snarling beast, she could see the fear and anger within its amber eyes. Her blood refused to stir. Her heart aching underneath, she held back her tears, reaching out towards the wolf one more time.
"I'm one… I'm… a wolf -! Please… believe me…"
Its lips curling over its canines, the wolf hesitantly edged towards her palm. Sniffing it twice, the snarls of the beast caused her to feel fear. Soothingly, the wolf licked her palm as its snarls vanished on the winds. Surprising her, her heart eased, warmed by her stroke of luck. Turning towards the packmates, the alpha and its pack soon disappeared back into the shadows of the darkened forest. Relieved, Nomasaki's hand grew limp, falling beside her on the soaked ground. The rain pounded against her body, her vision going blurry as she tried to see into the night above. She lost a great deal of blood, her strength failing her. Closing her eyes, she disappeared into the darkness.
Hoping to emerge as a wolf once more.
The hawk arrived at the Suna Aviary faster than anticipated, the shinobi scrambling to relay its details to the higher-ups and council.
The light of dusk still graced the skies, painting everything in a calming orange hue. Restlessly, the council conversed in the chambers while the insomnia marked the Kazekage's face in all its fury. Quietly with a stern face Kankurō sat at his right-hand and listened to their bickering with a furious tint to his dark eyes. Standing outside the chamber doors, Shinto stood on duty, his cloth veil masking his appearance.
"This will simply not do!" Zarō shouted, slamming his fist against the table. "The men we've rallied should be more than enough. Why wait?"
"The enemy waits for all our might, no harm in keeping them waiting any longer." The younger elder Michi entered. "Our men can join Moro-sama's forces at daybreak as he requested in his plans."
Gaara gave a stern-faced glare from the corner of his eye. Insomnia left its mark upon him, his blackened rings around his eyes appearing darker than usual. His expression was worn, pained. "We should send reinforcements as quickly as possible in this situation. Moro-sama is not someone to take lightly – he means what he says. By all means, send our forces – and send them now!"
"I agree with Gaara," Kankurō said. "Tenbu won't wait – we have to strike now!"
"Kazekage-sama," Baki spoke out, his eyes narrowed towards him. "We also received a hawk from Konoha indicating that the Hoki Family survivors safely made it to their lands. I recommend we request their assistance in this as well, being that we're low on forces as it is."
"I agree with Baki-sama," Zarō calmed. "And I second Kazekage-sama's decision – send our men immediately! Tenbu must be stopped–!?" Turning towards Michi, he noticed the young man hold his head down in pain, his hand grasping his temple tightly. "What's the matter, Michi-sama? What ails you?"
"Oh, n-nothing," He stood from his seat. "Please excuse me, I'm not feeling well…"
Watching carefully as the councilman departed from the chamber into the corridor, Shinto eyed his back suspiciously. There was something he could sense about his chakra that did not seem right. Disturbed, almost.
Peculiar.
His darkened eyes narrowing, he turned to his guard-mate at his left. "I'll be back… there's something I have to check out."
Seeing them nod, he vanished with the formation of a single hand-sign, disappearing into the shadows that coated the halls as the sun retreated behind the clay buildings outside.
Silence echoed.
Creeping within the darkness, Shinto watched as the councilman cautiously looked back and forth before descending into the basement of the estate's grand mansion. Silent as a shadow, Shinto used his invisibility genjutsu to follow closely behind him before the door closed shut. Scaling into the bowels of the mansion, Shinto's eyes widened at the sight of hundreds – if not, thousands – of glowing blue minerals as large as crystal. Ginkō ore – all of them arranged within the vast bottom floor of the estate. Conversing silently as they drew out a symbol in blood from their thumbs, Michi and a man garbed in black head-to-toe recited a jutsu formula together, but it was inaudible to his trained ears.
"…rise… ashes… Kuma… Tenbu… the wolf... they found her..."
He felt his blood rush from the name.
It was them – they were here, he thought, panicked.
Taking the wind out of him, he felt something sharp pierce through his abdomen. Looking down, his hand was covered in his own blood, his flak jacket oozing with crimson from a katana that was thrust through his back. Looming over him from behind was a Tenbu assassin clothed in black garbs, the snarling beast etched onto the armor over their chest.
"Is that the only rat?" A voice called from across the vast room. "Good, then. Leave him. He can die a merciful fate of bleeding to death instead of turning to ash like his comrades."
It was a familiar tone, he realized.
His mind jolted, glaring towards them.
Still shaken that he was seen through his genjutsu, he slowly pulled himself up to catch the glares of Michi and then he saw him – Kenzō. The disgraced councillor who plotted against the Kazekage those years ago, the one who tortured his friend – the imprisoned. "It's you...!" Shinto spat. "You're the dissident!"
"The rat still lives?" Kenzō mused. "What a waste... you have quite the genjutsu, I must admit. We could have used you."
Shinto mustered the strength to stand, pulling his katana from its scabbard on his back. "I am no tool to be used!" He shot back. "I am a shinobi!"
His blade met the block of Kenzō's armoured arm, the sounds of steel ringing against steel filling the still air. "A shinobi on the brink of death!"
A force propelled Shinto to push Kenzō away, his strength suddenly returning. Gritting his bloody teeth, he formed a series of hand-signs for an earth release jutsu. A large golem of rock suddenly formed from the sandstone floor and flew towards the dissident and his sleeper agent. Dispersing the two, Shinto held in his wound with his flesh-arm and ran towards them. Holding out his puppet arm, it sprawled open to reveal a cache of kunai. Blades peppered the area where his foes lay, the weapons blocked by a shield of the glowing green ore summoned by the sleeper agent. Once he was close enough, Shinto dodged his strikes and stabbed his katana through the man's chest.
Shinto grinned from relief. "Got you, you bastard...!"
Without making a single sound, the man went wide-eyed and collapsed to the floor in a pool of blood. Falling to his knees, Shinto breathed heavily. His wound was deep, and may have punctured a vital organ. His vision felt hazy and weakness grew from his legs. If he were fast enough, he could find Meiyumi to heal him before going to the hospital.
A still quiet amongst the glowing green ore chilled him.
"Wait... Where is -?"
The wind was pushed from his lungs as he felt the warmth spill from him.
Looking down, he saw the blade pierced between his ribs - a mortal wound. His dark eyes went wide, realizing that it was in fact a death-blow. Crimson leaked from his flak jacket as the blade was pulled out, and forced him to cough up the rest as he fell to the ground below. Shuddering in his dying state, Shinto tried to pull him back to his feet - but the end for him was drawing near.
"Foolish rat... I said you were on the brink of death." Kenzō leered from above, his face concealed by darkness. "No matter. You'll be dead within the hour. Enjoy your last breaths... if you can."
And in an instant, the dissident had vanished amongst the shadows.
As the urge to close his eyes grew while the world became heavy around him, he found himself contemplating his life. He was a dutiful servant to his village, an ANBU recruit at the age of twenty - having served for near two years. He was born to civilian parents who were killed by Shukaku when he was six, but managed to survive on his own by eating scraps from the bakers and the butchers. In his youth, he was the prankster, the hyperactive kid, and the earth-release user of his peers. Then he was a genin on Team Hashira. Perhaps he would see his parents and Hashira-sensei when he opened his eyes.
The memories of his team propelled him to hang on, reminding him of Meiyumi and the woman he loved - Nomasaki.
And it was then that Shinto remembered that she was in danger.
Gnashing his teeth, he summoned the last of his strength as his vision grew hazy. "I… have to… urgh–!" Lifting himself up, his legs wobbled underneath him. "I have to… tell them… I have… to warn them…!" Pulling himself up against the clay wall, his veil and turban fell from his head, his shaggy black hair swaying over his dulled eyes as he pushed himself to climb the weaving stairs. Clutching his wound with his palm tightly, he winced as he marched onward towards the council chambers floors and stairwells away. He had no further strength to summon himself through his jutsu – only his feet could carry him.
Blood soon painted his path.
"I say we strike at dawn!" A disgruntled councillor argued. "We must wait until–?!"
"Respectful councillors, Kazekage-sama," A panic-stricken guard entered, kneeling. "I beg forgiveness in such a holy place – but we have an emergency on our hands!"
Taken aback, Gaara turned towards the doorway as all eyes followed the messenger. His ringed-eyes widening, the bloodied and stumbling figure of Shinto wandering into the chamber, his blood-soaked hand grasping onto the doorway as he entered breathless and weakened.
"What's the meaning of this?!" Zarō stood. "Quick – send for a medic! Now!"
Leaving his council seat, Gaara started quickly towards him with Kankurō soon following. Catching Shinto with his sand before he could collapse to the floor, he knelt at his side in bewilderment, watching his chest ooze crimson as he gave labored breaths from his crimson-stained lips. Realizing the ANBU's face, his eyes widened as he met the pained glance of the black-haired shinobi. He remembered his face from years gone by – Nomasaki's past teammate. "Shinto–!?" Gaara spoke, shocked. "What happened? Who did this–?"
"Tenbu... They're here..." Shinto breathed, weakly. "They're planning to...–!" Painfully, his wound pulsed, cutting off his words.
Alarmed, Kankurō whipped his head towards the windows, his eyes going wide. Turning back to his brother, he grit his teeth. "Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Gaara turned, questioning. "Kankurō–?!"
It suddenly became clear to him.
That noise – it was the same as that day where the wolf burst through the glass. Urgently, he stood before his wandering councilmen, eyes wide with panic. "Everyone! Take cover – quickly!"
"What's the meaning of this, Kazekage-sama?" An elder stepped closer. "There's no need to be so–,"
The noise came again, stunning all of them in their tracks as the air fell silent. In a faint rumble and high-pitch squeal, blue flame erupted from the bowels of the mansion, shaking the very floor they stood upon as it burst forth through the clay barriers before it. In a matter of seconds, the walls surrounding them were thrust apart in a blast of blinding fire as their entire world was torn into a brittle of falling stone and blue flame.
Only the screams below could be heard...
More notes: Two cliffhangers - yes, I went there.
I hope to have the next chapter done by next week, but at the very latest you can expect it to be posted by April 30th. Thanks again for reading! I don't respond to all my reviews/comments as I'm very anxious and I tend to not engage online, but regardless - I see them all and I thank you for them! They honestly make my day - and also make me proud that people are powering through this juggernaut of a fic (~250,000 words and it's not even done!). Whether you suffered or enjoyed - i thank you for reading, as always.
Stay home and stay safe, everyone xx