Born Weapons
Arc II
I Am A Monster
Chapter V
Savages

"At the moment of birth, your fate was written in the blood of your ancestors."
-Hozuki Gengetsu
Second Mizukage

Sakura wheezed and spat a glob of blood and phlegm to the grass, praying silently for the world to stop spinning.

Naruto squatted in front of her, elbows on his knees, worry suffusing his features. His lips were moving but no sound was coming out – all she could hear was a constant, high whine.

This continued for about ten seconds before his voice started to come back. "Really, really sorry," he was saying. "I thought you were gonna go left and then you went-"

"Right," she croaked, lying down gently on the grass. Already it was growing nearly out of control – spring had come early to Konohagakure, bringing with it an explosion of green both above its residents' heads and below their feet. "I think that's enough sparring for today."

"Ah, fair enough," Naruto said, taking a seat next to her. She watched the ease with which he moved with no small amount of disbelief. They had begun before dawn, and now the sun was nearly in the middle of the sky, and yet he hardly looked winded. He pushed aside a handful of sweat slicked hair, which had grown long enough to fall over his forehead protector and frame his face, and smiled cheerily down at her. "You really got me a couple times there."

Sakura shook her head and smiled, going over the fight in her head. It was clear that she was getting better – stronger, faster, more confident making decisions in combat – but though her progression was steady, it was equally slow. She was competent enough to catch Naruto off guard if he let his mind wander, but when his head was in the game he had a tendency to tear her apart. "I think I'm finally adjusting to the new style Kakashi-sensei is teaching you," she said after a bit of reflection. "It's so different from what we learned in basic, and my instincts are slow to adjust."

Naruto chewed on the thought. "Your problem isn't your instincts," he said. "The opposite, really. You think too much."

"My mind is the only advantage I have," Sakura said. "If I think less I lose my only shot at actually beating you."

"Maybe," Naruto said, shrugging. "Kakashi-sensei says everyone fights different. But you need the speed, and not thinking is always faster than thinking, neh?"

Sakura laughed. "Neh," she echoed. "Now come on, let's get some food before I pass out."

"Finally! I thought you'd never say it." Naruto leapt to his feet and offered her his hand, pulling her up with a casual strength. The two began the long, winding walk back to the central Uchiha building, where servants would be preparing lunch.

Sakura was surprised at how effortlessly her feet followed the path. It had been only a few months since she had become Mitarashi, and already her body was adapting to her new home – to the geography and ritual and culture that was her life. "Speaking of thinking," she said as they walked, "what's Kakashi-sensei got you reading now."

Naruto scowled and stuck out his lower lip, interlocking his fingers behind his head. "Chakra theory," he said, as if merely saying the words offended him deeply. "I thought history was bad, but oh man Sakura, this is so much worse. I spent all last night reading about some guy name Yagura and his stupid rules."

"Yagura's three laws?" Sakura asked, arching an eyebrow. She declined to mention that she had memorized Yagura's three laws at age eight – they all had their areas of expertise. "Remember any of them?"

Naruto's face screwed up in concentration. "Ah, the first one says that all chakra is naturally yin/yang," he said after a moment. "And then…the second one says that the higher amount of gathered chakra," he said, "the higher…uh, percentage that is trans…trans…"

"Transmuted," Sakura offered.

"Right, transmuted…into chakra of the gatherer's elemental affinity." He shrugged. "And I'll learn the other one tonight."

Sakura clapped politely, and he swatted at her. "I'm working on it, I'm working on it," he said. "It's just so boring. And none of it means anything, it's just words on paper." He scowled. "I'm never gonna be able to keep up with Sasuke if I have to spend half my time reading. He already spars with Kakashi-sensei more than with me, and it's only getting worse."

"You've got to stop that," Sakura said

"Stop what?"

"Comparing yourself to him. It doesn't help anything and you know it." She gave him her best knowing stare, but his scowl only deepened. "Besides," she said, when it became clear that he wasn't willing to concede the point. "This stuff isn't just words on paper. Chakra theory is real. You use it every day."

Naruto rolled his eyes. "Bullshit. I mean, I know I use chakra theory, obviously, fine, but that's not Yagura's stupid laws or whatever."

Sakura held up a hand and gathered chakra to her palm, as much as she could manage. It swirled through the vessels in her body, concentrating, until her skin practically rippled with with suppressed power. Truth be she didn't have much left in the tank after hours spent sweating and sparring – especially considering her reserves were low in the best of times – but it was enough that Naruto twitched when she touched her palm to his cheek.

"I hate that feeling," he muttered, rubbing at the spot she had touched him. "Your chakra's so hot."

"Exactly!" Sakura said. "Because I'm a fire affinity. My chakra naturally trends towards fire, so the more I gather the more of it becomes like fire."

Naruto shook his head. "But I summon chakra all the time. A lot of it. And it never gets windy, or anything."

"Well, no," Sakura admitted. "It's not that pronounced, Naruto. For the chakra to manifest physically as the element you'd have to be gathering so much of it that…well, nobody actually gathers that much. It's all basically theoretical-"

"See!" Naruto crowed. "I can't actually use it every day if it's theoretical, can I?"

Sakura took a deep breath. She had known Naruto for over a year now, watched him learn five different types of clone techniques and then invent a new one…and yet she still floundered whenever it came to explaining things to him. Countless lessons and still all she could do was keep moving until something clicked for him. "Just because it isn't physically manifesting doesn't mean it's not happening," she said. "When you gather chakra, no matter what amount, some of it is transmuting automatically to wind chakra…and the more you summon, the more is transmuted."

"So what?"

"Come on, you've got to see where this is going," she said, rubbing her temples. "Okay. You want to do a fire clone. You gather up chakra, which is naturally yin/yang chakra – that's the first rule, right?"

"Sure," Naruto said. "Cause it's mental and physical energy you mix together. Yin ad Yang."

Sakura nodded. "Perfect. So you have yin/yang chakra, and to do the technique, you transmute it to fire chakra. But let's say you want to do a higher level technique…oh, or more fire clones at the same time. Let's say three, so you have to gather three times the amount of chakra, right?"

"I guess…"

"So according to the second rule…"

Naruto watched her plaintively, as if expecting that she might just finish the sentence, but after they took a dozen steps in patient silence he spoke up. "More of it is elemental chakra? Uh, wind chakra."

"Exactly. So instead of just transmuting from yin/yang to fire, you have to transmute from wind to yin/yang to fire. It's an extra step in the process-"

"It's just calming the meadow!" Naruto shouted suddenly. He was loud enough that several servants looked to them in surprise, and the blond's face suddenly went redder than it had ever been during their morning spar.

Sakura's eyebrows vanished beneath her bangs. "Calming the water?"

"It's a…" Naruto made small circles with his hands, as if trying to shape invisible clay. "Sort of like a thing I have, to help me concentrate. A mental trick. Sort of like a…happy place?" His flush deepened. "That sounds stupid."

"It doesn't," Sakura said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Talk me through it."

White teeth peeked out from behind a hesitant smile. "When we were learning how to gather chakra, back in basic," he said, "I had a lot of trouble concentrating. We were in those dingy little rooms, and all I wanted was to be outside, you know?"

Sakura nodded, though she didn't quite know. She had always loved the classrooms – the smell of ink and paper and old wood, the quiet scratching of pencils. But she could imagine that Naruto hadn't found the same joy in it that she had.

"So, I liked to imagine I was in a meadow," Naruto continued, rubbing the back of his neck. "And…I dunno, when we started learning more basic chakra manipulation stuff, I'd go back to the meadow. So…" he shrugged. "Sometimes, when I gather lots of chakra, the meadow gets…less peaceful. I never really thought of it as windy, I guess, but it fits. And so before I do a big technique, I have to calm the meadow. Make it all peaceful. Right?"

That was when it clicked for her, as well. "It's your transmutation," she said. "From wind chakra back to yin/yang. That's exactly it, Naruto!" She punched him in the shoulder, hard enough to send him staggering. "And you said this stuff was useless."

"Well it's not like I knew I was already doing it," Naruto said, but instead of scowling he smiled. "If the book was as smart as you are, I'd have this shit down flat by now."

Sakura shook her head. "Just pay more attention," she said. "How many times does this have to happen before you realize that you get this stuff?"

Naruto thought about it a moment, brow furrowed. "I'd say at least a gazillion."

Sakura sighed and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out the air around her was rent by the endless bellow of a horn.

-OOO-

The Hokage's tower stood at the center of a fortress.

High walls of imposing stone encircled the white stone structure, endless strings of sealwork carved into the rock itself. Kakashi's eyes followed the marks as they wound their way around the battlements and then shot up the tower itself. They came to a rest, he knew, only at the tower's top floor. There Shinobi worked in round the clock shifts, always on high alert. At the first sign of danger, the ground in front of the walls would become a killing field the likes of which few Shinobi had ever seen – and this was merely the first and most obvious line of defense available to the Hokage. Many enemy Shinobi, seeking glory, had tried and failed to kill the Hokage from within his tower, and all had failed.

Kakashi took a moment, to consider that thought. All, or all but one. Certainly many questions still surrounded the death of the Fifth Hokage – but those were questions best kept to oneself.

Kakashi marked the Shinobi standing guard as he passed them. One pretended to sell fish, his disguise perfect save for his eyes, too sharp and dangerous. Another watched from the shuttered window of a nearby building – his long shift had made him careless, and the sunlight glinted unnaturally off some blade he had drawn. Yet another waited beneath the earth itself, prepared to leap out at a moment's notice. There would be more, of course, there always were. But today Kakashi had neither the time nor patience to find them. He approached the guard standing at the tower's entrance, a Hyuga with his Byakugan expressed. Her hair was buzzed short, and unlike most of the Hyuga clan, she opted to wear her forehead uncovered. Thick black lines formed the infamous Hyuga seal across pale skin.

"Hatake-sama," the woman said, her tone respectful but clearly surprised. "You're...early."

"What can I say, other than I'm full of surprises?" Kakashi asked, smiling. "Anything I should look out for while I'm up there?"

"They don't tell me anything sir," the Hyuga replied. Her pupil-less white eyes twitched in a manner Kakashi had come to associate with being rolled. "Besides, my shift just started. But I heard Might Guy had an appointment today."

Kakashi exhaled heavily and struggled against the temptation to turn on his heel and walk in the other direction. He was to be on his best behavior, he had reminded himself. It wasn't every day that one, even one as accomplished as himself, was called for a personal meeting with the Hokage. "I suppose I'll be very, very quiet then," he said, "and hope that I hear him coming in time."

"Best of luck, sir." The girl touched her right fist to her left palm and bowed, ever so slightly.

Kakashi mirrored the salute, walked past the girl, and focused chakra into his hands and feet. A moment later he was scaling the white stone of the tower exterior, making his way to the uppermost floors. There were stairs inside, of course, but they were terribly slow and inefficient. On busier days, the tower could be found practically swarming with Shinobi, like bees clinging to the exterior of a hive. Today however, things were quiet, and Kakashi passed only four other Shinobi using the same shortcut as he made his way up. Occasionally he would peek into windows, trying his best to guess at Guy's location. Accounting, on the tenth floor? Briefing, on the fifteenth? But there was no sign of the man.

"Can't ever be easy, can it," Kakashi grumbled under his mask. It was only a minute later that he reached his destination. Thick wooden beams supported a large, flat wooden porch that served as a dock of sorts for Shinobi traveling along the tower's exterior, and Kakashi let the chakra drain from his limbs as he slid back down to a horizontal surface.

The third floor from the tower's top served as a waiting area for those who sought audience with the Hokage, and it was as high as one could go by the tower's exterior – unless one particularly enjoyed the feeling of steel sliding through their flesh. A spacious , well lit room greeted Kakashi as he entered, rugs strewn across the floor so that those waiting could sit comfortably. The air smelled of tea and incense, pleasant despite Kakashi's knowledge was that its primary purpose was to mask the scent of poison gas in the walls. The Hokage's personal assistant, a young woman seated behind a desk, smiled at him. "Hatake-san," she said brightly. "We didn't expect you for some time yet!"

Try as he might, Kakashi couldn't summon up a glib deflection. He was too preoccupied with the creeping horror that subsumed him at the sight of a tall, man in green fatigues, his dark hair corralled into an immensely unfashionable bowl cut.

"Kakashi!" Guy bellowed, loud enough to shake the tower itself. He leapt to his feet and stuck out a thumb, a brilliant white smile stretching across his face. "When I saw I was scheduled right after you, I was sure we'd miss each other," the man said, his voice a baritone rumble more reminiscent of an oncoming storm than a man. "What great fortune that our paths should cross again!"

Fortune wasn't the word Kakashi would use. Might Guy was a Jonin like himself, one of only a handful in the village that could reasonably lay clam to being on Kakashi's level. He was a monster in human flesh, a slab of meat and muscle. Shoulders broad enough to build a house on, arms that strained mightily against the fabric of his fatigues. In recent years he had taken to wearing his flak jacket unzipped because it could no longer comfortably close around his thickly muscled chest.

He could've always requested a custom fit. But that wouldn't have sent the right message.

"Guy," he drawled. "You're...here." Then his eyes slid to the boy standing at Guy's side, and he blinked as if to clear his vision. "And you've cloned yourself."

That brought Guy to a great belly laugh, though Kakashi was failing to see what exactly was funny. A moment's examination revealed that clone was probably not the right word, as the boy's face looked nothing like the man's. It was narrower, with large, round eyes that peered out from two absolutely monstrous eyebrows, like twin caterpillars that had taken up residence on the boy's forehead. But his hair, his clothes, even his stance – in every way that it was possible for the boy to mirror Guy he had, even down to the bandages wrapped around his hands and forearms.

"Lee!" Guy said, turning to the boy. "Allow me to introduce you to the Lightning Fist! The hero of the Fifteen Day War! Konohagakure's brilliant white blade, the legendary Hatake Kakashi himself!" He beamed. "My rival."

I understand, Kakashi thought to himself, not for the first time. Why you did it, father. I finally get it.

Lee's reaction was instantaneous. He saluted, bowing so low that his nose nearly scraped the ground. "It is an honor, sir!" He said, in a voice so earnest that it almost made Kakashi feel bad for him. "Guy-sensei has spoken much of your exploits!"

"Well, Guy has a tendency to exaggerate," Kakashi said.

"My apologies, but I do not believe that is true!" Lee said. "Guy-sensei has been unfailingly honest with me since we first met."

There was something about his voice, the way he spoke, as if he had to think about each word before he spoke it. And his accent...so precise, so practiced. Kakashi's eyes flickered to Guy, but the Jonin's face betrayed nothing. "Then let's say I exaggerated when I told him about it all," Kakashi said. "That way everybody gets to play to type."

"Lee," Guy said, turning to his apprentice. "It occurs to me that you have not yet completed a challenge for today."

The boy's eyes seemed to shine with a sudden light. "That is true, Guy-sensei!" He said. "I will...I will run from the wall to this tower ten times! And I shall do the last lap on only my hands."

Kakashi's muscles shrieked at even the thought, but Guy only beamed. "Taking it light today I see!" He said. "Quite wise of you, Lee. All Shinobi must be careful to rest their bodies, lest their drive to succeed become their own worst enemy."

Kakashi had thought Lee's eyes had been shining before, but now he realized that that had only been a glimmer. "Thank you Guy-sensei!" The boy said, eyes like twin lighthouses. "I will begin immediately! At once!"

One moment he was there, and then the next he was gone. Kakashi blinked, instinct forcing chakra to his ears so that he could better track the boy's descent. Fast. Unbelievably fast. Faster than Kakashi or even Guy had been at his age.

He arched an eyebrow at Guy once the boy was far enough down the tower that they didn't risk being overheard. "What the hell was that?"

Guy stroked his chin, regarding Kakashi carefully. Then he took a seat on the plush rug beneath him, motioning for Kakashi to do the same. Kakashi sighed and rolled his eyes, but did as he was bid. When Guy had you cornered, it was best to go limp and let the current take you where it willed.

"His name is Rock Lee," Guy said when Kakashi had made himself comfortable. "He is my apprentice."

"Really," Kakashi said, his voice drier than a rock in Sunagakure. "You don't say."

"I...did not mean to have you meet him like this," Guy said, and Kakashi was surprised to see the man seem truly troubled. "The truth is...there is still much I would for Lee to achieve before he he met you. I think, in time, he could show you the error of your ways. Show you the value of passing one's knowledge down to the next generation." He reached down and grasped in massive fingers a delicate porcelain tea cup, steam rising into the air in languid waves.

Kakashi waited for Guy to take a sip before he spoke. "I have three apprentices, actually."

Say one thing for Might Guy, say that he never failed to entertain. The green-clad man spat tea halfway across the waiting room, a fact that did not fail to dismay the attendant terribly. "You-" Guy sputtered, wiping dribbles of tea from his chin, "you've taken – three?"

"What can I say?" Kakashi asked, unable to keep the smile from his eyes. "I'm a sucker for tradition. If the Sage took three disciples, why shouldn't I?"

"Deflect all you like," Guy said, placing his tea cup back down on its matching plate. He shook his head slowly. "I know you too well to believe that this is not truly momentous."

Kakashi sobered. "It wasn't my idea," he said after a moment of thought. "I'm not...hating it, though. I never imagined life in the village could hold so many surprises."

Guy chuckled. "Yes, they tend to evoke that feeling, don't they?" He cast a glance outside the window, and Kakashi's eyes followed his to tiny green figure, a blur across the rooftops far below.

Kakashi's eyes traveled back to Guy. "He's fast."

"I have never seen a Shinobi with more drive," Guy said, quiet. "He would work himself to death, were I not there to reign him in. Some days I wonder how much longer I can keep up with him."

Kakashi tried not to let the disquiet show on his face. He didn't succeed, not entirely. But that was why he wore the mask. "Someone who could give you a run for your money? Now I've seen everything."

"I...had everything planned out, Kakashi," Guy said. "A whole speech that I would give you. But now that you have your own students, I no longer know if it is necessary."

Kakashi stared at the space where Lee had been. "Wouldn't want you to waste all that preparation," he said, his nonchalance hollow even to his own ears. "Just spit it out, and I'll do my best to pretend I'm absorbing your wisdom."

Guy laughed again. "Yes," he said. "Thank you for indulging me, Kakashi." He was silent for a long time after that, ordering his thoughts. When he spoke again, his words with heavy with contemplation. "It is said that all men die twice," he said. "Once when their spirit leaves their body...and again when their teachings leave this world. Some even say that this is the true nature of the Sage's immortality, for even still we call him Sensei.

"When I was boy, and my head was filled with violence, I did not think on such high minded things. Life was the next battle, the next war. The words of my masters were tools for the shedding of my enemies' blood, and nothing more. When they passed bodily from this world, I went to the graves which bore their names and swore never to forget them. And yet I let them die just a little every day, for I hoarded their knowledge, their wisdom. It was not my intention, of course. I saw only the mission. Only the next foe, dead at my feet. I was arrogant and prideful and young, and believed that the teachings of my masters had found apotheosis in me. And then, one day, on a lonely road, I came across a farm. The snows had piled high that winter, and war had sucked the land dry, as it does."

Kakashi frowned. War? No war had touched Fire for nearly a decade.

If Guy noticed his confusion, he made no sign of it. "The family was starving," he continued, "and they begged me for coin. I intended to give them some money and pass on…but before I could go their oldest approached me, eager to demonstrate his talents. A farmer, bred for the hauling of rice, and yet I could see that he truly thought to impress me. It was all I could do not to laugh. Still, he had a zeal in him that that I could not help but respect. And so I accompanied him to a field and watched him carve stone with his fists."

"He had been trained before," Kakashi said. The breaking of rock was an important milestone in basic training, a sign that the Shinobi had honed his body through yang chakra.

Guy's smile was tight. "My first thought as well. But a false one. He had simply come to the stone each and every day until his hands bled anew."

Kakashi considered that for a long moment. "Well, it sounds unbelievable," he said. "And yet."

"And yet," Guy echoed. "I cannot describe the feeling that came over me, watching him. It was a certainty I had never before experienced. A certainty that I had failed my masters. A certainty that I had failed their teachings. What we are given, Kakashi, finds apotheosis in no man. There is only the next step." He exhaled, heavy. "I found Lee, and I saw in him the future of my art."

Kakashi watched this man, whom he had known since they were children together, speak. He had known Guy to be many things – relentless, exuberant, terrifying, embarrassing, unfailingly kind. And yet here, now, for the first time, he seemed...wise. And old. And very very tired.

"Where is he from, Guy?" Kakashi asked.

They were in the Hokage's tower. Here even the walls had ears, and so Guy merely met his eyes. "You know."

And Kakashi did. The accent, which strained against even the best attempts to hide it. Guy's comments about the war, and the snow. The demilitarized zones had been named such during the first Kage summit, when the founders of the elemental nations had met to codify the new world order. The zones had been established as buffer states, with each nation swearing to never establish a military presence within their borders – and with a few rare exceptions, they had maintained their promises in the 200 years since. It was not a perfect solution, of course. The zones were prone to instability, anarchy, terror. When villages did arise they tended to be quickly overthrown – and if they had any staying power, it was typically because they were being supported, if not outright controlled by, one of the elemental nations.

But even when an elemental nation controlled a demilitarized zone in all but name, there were lines that couldn't be crossed. Appearances that had to be maintained. A respected Leaf Jonin couldn't be discovered to be recruiting apprentices from the zones. Especially considering Konohagakure's track record on the issue of respecting the autonomy of the demilitarized zones. If it got out…

"It could be war" Kakashi said, almost to quiet to hear.

"Yes."

"Why risk that for a boy?"

"I have already told you." Guy's eyes flickered to him, then away. "You told me you have taken apprentices."

"I have. That wasn't a lie."

"And yet you still don't understand me," Guy said. "I had assumed, when you took a student, it would be because you had a similar revelation. Certainly there is no-one with the power to force you to become teacher, however many would wish it."

"I wasn't forced." Kakashi's fist clenched, but his face didn't so much as twitch. "They gave my father a funeral."

Guy took a moment to absorb that. "Your father is not a name on a rock."

"He wasn't," Kakashi said, "and now he is. Because of me." His mind flashed to Sakura, working herself to the bone to bring her vision of the future just a tiny bit closer. To Sasuke, striving at every moment to surpass perfection, to meet the impossible expectations left for him by Itachi, who had never had to truly to rule as Lord – only exist as an ideal, a promise. To Naruto, who thrashed and struggled to rip power from the hands of an unjust universe, one that had condemned him to fate no child should ever have to endure. "That's the closest to immortality I can bring him," he said, looking back to Guy. "It's what he wanted. This village was everything to him."

"Was it?" Guy asked. His tone was almost soft – not a word Kakashi had ever expected to use in reference to Might Guy.

He didn't answer. Instead he stood and stretched and waited, quiet noises from upstairs letting him know that somebody had just left the Hokage's office. Footsteps, nearly impossibly light, came closer, and a moment later Hatake Rai emerged from the stairwell leading up to the penultimate floor.

Uzumaki Rai now. He had to remember. She looked so much like the mother he had never met, a face he knew only from a painting in his father's hand. Even her eyes were the same. Most of the petty clans sworn to Uchiha had some strange quirk in their eyes, the result of continued interbreeding with the Uchiha line, and the Hatake's was a trend towards heterochromia. The left deep purple, the right light green. And yet the look within them was nothing like the painting of his mother. When Uzumaki Rai's eyes settled on him, they held only suspicion and scorn.

Kakashi inclined his head. "Rai-chan."

"Uncle." He was not her uncle, of course. They were only distantly related, by clan measures. Rather she had aged up the traditional "cousin" address to needle him about his age. Kakashi smiled despite himself. He was all too well acquainted with the thorns typical of young Shinobi. Her eyes followed him as he passed her on the way up the stairs, and when he reached the sliding wood door at the top, he could still feel her gaze on the back of his neck, like the tip of a knife cooled by night air.

Even Uchiha Sasuke, in all his power, could not truly make Kakashi Hatake again. He had shed that name a decade ago, in every way that mattered.

The ANBU – a member of the village's Special Assassination and Tactical Squad - stationed on the other side of the door slid it open at his approach, then closed it again behind him. The sensation of being watched vanished, and then abruptly reappeared, far stronger and more disorienting.

In the center of the room sat the Eighth in all his glory. He wore a cloak of pristine white, with a necklace of large red nagatama around his neck, and the red and white hat of his station sat casually atop his head as if it had been there since birth. His hair was dark but lacked the blue-black sheen so typical of the Uchiha clan, and pronounced tear troughs cut his face. At twenty-three, he was five years Kakashi's junior and the youngest Hokage in village history. But one would never guess it by looking at him – Itachi carried with him a patience and wisdom that belied his youth. He sat cross legged atop the Hokage's throne, a cushioned pillar of intricately carved wood that stood taller than a man, so that all were forced to raise their eyes to the man who wore the hat.

Beneath him stretched the world. The wooden slats of the floor sprung to color, depicting the geography of the elemental nations. Sapphire blue marked waters, rich green the forests, and brilliant yellow the vast deserts to the east – colors too deep and true to be mere paints. This office had been grown by the First himself, willed into existence with the bloodline he had commanded, and the color was held within the wood itself. The only paint were the white lines across it – the political borders, which necessitated a new application every few years. The map was oriented towards the Hokage, so that visitors entered at the north and saw the whole thing upside down.

Not upside-down, boy. The day you allow any one angle to become the default is the day you stop finding other angles.

Kakashi's mouth twitched under his mask, a smile more like an old scar than an expression. Every day, he lost a little more of his father to the mists of memory – but always the man's voice stuck with him, soft and gravelly and utterly confident in every word it spoke.

Across the elemental nations were assembled the Hokage's council, four Shinobi handpicked by Itachi himself that asissted his efforts in running the country. There was the Sixth, of course, Sarutobi Hiruzen, bound to serve the office even in retirement. Hokage rarely lived to see their successors rule, but this would be the old man's second time guiding Konohagakure from behind the hat. Were Kakashi a more superstitious man, he might've wondered what tragedy Hiruzen had doomed Itachi to.

Fire. Winds. Malice like a physical force, his brain screaming, nerves raw, fear so deep and dark that he couldn't tell which way was up, and then a roar that cracked the trunks of the trees around him, and he screamed-

Kakashi blinked, and he was back. Hiruzen regarded him quietly, his craggy, aged face radiating kindness. It was a rare trait in Shinobi, one Hiruzen had taken great pains to master. To his left stood his best and oldest friend, Shimura Danzo, who certainly had never concerned himself with looking hind. His attention was out the window, his one eye on the rooftops far below, and he leaned heavily on a gnarled wooden cane. On the floor sat Nara Shikaku, a middle-aged man with spiky black hair and two distinctive scars across his face. Shikaku had been a renowned Jonin until a skirmish with one of Kirigakure's seven swordsmen had left him with no legs below mid-thigh. Now his prodigious mind served the Hokage – there were few in the five nations who could match his aptitude for strategy.

Finally Kakashi found Itachi's fourth and final advisor, a tall woman with tanned skin and deep brown hair. Unlike the other advisors, she was dressed for war – plates of lacquered wood, dyed a deep red, covered her upper body. She was Senju Keisai, the woman who would have been Hokage.

When Hiruzen had decided to pass his hat on for the second time, Senju Keisai had been at the top of a very short list. She was a ferocious warrior, a respected leader, and cunning tactician – the perfect Shinobi, especially considering she was heir to the Senju clan and the direct descendant of the First. With the support of both the Sixth and many of the noble clans, she had been Hokage in all but name until the night before the announcement was to be made public.

Kakashi had been out of the village when the whole thing had gone down, and he was not a man who traded in rumors. But there were a few people in the village he trusted, and they had all told him the same thing – that Uchiha Fugaku had called an emergency meeting of seven of the eight noble clans, all except the Senju. What happened behind those closed doors was known to none except the clan heads, but the next day it was Itachi who had knelt to accept the hat, not Keisai.

And then Itachi had named her advisor, leaving the council without a single Uchiha member. It was a great honor of course – the advisors were second only to the Hokage himself – but Kakashi could tell from her demeanor that Keisai still believed she should be the one in the robe and hat. Kakashi couldn't entirely blame her.

"Hatake Kakashi," Nara Shikaku said, from his place on the floor. "We did not anticipate your timeliness."

Kakashi dropped to one knee in a bow. "I can put aside eccentricities, when the need arises." Was it just a trick of the light, or could he see some crimson in the Hokage's eyes?

"Then we should get directly to the point," Shikaku said, which Kakashi took as his cue to stand. "Subaku Rasa is dead."

Kakashi recognized the name instantly. "The Tenth Kazekage." His mind flashed with memories before he could compose himself. The sun, baking him. Blood, like a streak of red across sandstone. "When did this happen?"

"Yesterday," Shikaku said from his seat on the floor. "Which means we must move quickly. The mourning has begun. We have reason to believe that two of his children are already dead."

Kakashi grimaced. Sunagakure, the village hidden in the sands, did not waste time. Konohagakure chose its leaders by agreement of the noble clans, a compromise designed to cement the alliance between Uchiha and Senju – each of whom could've ruled a village in their own right. The circumstances of Sunagakure's founding were substantially different. The Subaku clan had been the unquestioned power in the region, and the petty clans had flocked to their banner. Even 200 years later their descendants ruled the Land of Wind. The next Kazekage would be a child of the old – but which child?

For the Subaku were not content with primogeniture. Strength, cunning, ruthless ambition – these were the traits the Subaku valued in their leaders, and none of these were guaranteed by first birth. Instead the Kazekage took wives, often over a dozen, and spent his reign filling the sandstone palace with princes and princesses who, upon their fathers death, murdered each other for the right to wear his hat.

The whole process was much simpler when the Kazekage was a woman, and the number of her children limited by nature. Subaku Rasa had had over thirty children. The streets of Sunagakure would drown in royal blood before a new Kazekage cemented control – and likely for quite some time after as well. "What do you need me to do?" He asked. His skin buzzed with the anticipation that came before a mission, the rush of adrenaline that accompanied the knowledge he would soon face death.

"Our agents in the city have been in contact with one of the princesses," Shikaku explained. "Her interests align with ours. Seat her, or find the next best alternative."

"Which is?"

"Peace in the region," Keisai answered. She watched Kakashi with unblinking eyes, and when he turned his head to her he caught the slightest whiff of mint. "Every day brings new reports of religious violence in the demilitarized zones. Until someone," she shot a not-quite-treasonous look Itachi's direction, which the Hokage failed to either see or mind, "solves the Akatsuki problem, we need the desert placid and safe to ignore."

Akatsuki. A word from a tongue older than villages, perhaps older than clans. And there will be war, and pain, and death, and a light in the darkness. The nine will salt the earth, and the clouds will grow fat with blood, and the red moon will herald the dawn. The hairs on the back of Kakashi's neck prickled at merely the thought. He had never been particularly religious, but all Shinobi knew the final sentences of the Book of the Sage. But the advisors were staring at him, so he bowed his head and took shelter in tradition. "I am the empty vessel," he said. "I am the clay soldier in which the will of fire burns."

"That may be," Hiruzen said, "but you are not merely a nameless knife among dozens." He spoke slowly, turning over each word in his head before speaking it aloud. "The princess we speak of requested you specifically for this task."

Strange, but not entirely unexpected. Kakashi didn't have many friends in Sunagakure, but he might have enemies of his enemies. "Who is the lucky lady, exactly?"

"Subaku Temari," Keisei supplied.

Kakashi blinked. That name…

Meant nothing to him. He told the room as much.

Hiruzen frowned slightly at the admission. "A Shinobi of your caliber..." he said, in his slow, ponderous way, "to expect you to remain aware of all the scars you have left in this world would be a grueling task indeed. And yet, it seems as though this particular scar might stand out more to you, given its notoriety."

"She is the daughter of Reishi Yoshino," Keisai said, wearing a smile that was equal parts amusement and curiosity. "The Kazekage's ninth wife."

"Oh." Kakashi swallowed, suddenly feeling significantly less eager and significantly more sick to his stomach. He had assumed that the princess requesting him had been born of one of the Rasa's many other lovers. There was little love lost between the sister wives of the Kazekage, and it would not be unusual for a few of them to see him as a potential ally. Ally was not the word that came to mind when Kakashi thought of Yoshino's daughter – though he could think of a few very different reasons she might want him far from home and surrounded by hostile Shinobi.

"Apprehension is understandable," Shikaku said. "But Temari is an asset we've been evaluating for quite some time. She's sensible. Pragmatic."

"And a Shinobi," Kakashi said. "And a Sunagakure princess at that. Masks are more comfortable to her than her own face."

Shikaku inclined his head, conceding the point. "Then consider this," he said. "On any day of the year, Sunagakure is one of the most secure cities in the world. During the mourning, it is the most secure city in the world. If you have another way to get Jonin inside, by all means." He gestured to the advisors. "Enlighten us."

"Don't get smart with the boy, Nara," Danzo murmured, his face finally turned away from the window. "You can't blame him for worrying that we're giving him to the fucking tans." He rapped his cane against the floor, drawing the attention of everyone in the room to where he stood – directly above the tangle of black lines that marked Sunagakure, sharp against the blue of the river Kahaki. "When last we sent you here, Shinobi Hatake – that was a death sentence. This is a vacation. We expect you to return, and return well-rested."

Keisai barked a laugh, though the rest of the room was silent.

Kakashi swallowed. "So if it is a trap?" He asked.

"Then you will do what you do so well," Danzo said, his voice iron.

Survive. Turn the trap upon his enemies. Parade their corpses through the streets. He was a man of so many different talents. Kakashi closed his eyes and for a moment. He could still feel the relentless heat on his skin. The strangled gasps from the windows. "I'll need a team," he said.

"You have your pick. Any Shinobi in the village," Shikaku said. "And a few out of the village as well. We can make arrangements for rendezvous as you travel."

For a moment, Kakashi was tempted. It wasn't often he had such broad authority in putting together a team, and there was no small number of Shinobi who sprang to mind. Yuhi Asuma was in the village, and his wife Kurenai as well, both competent and battle tested. And if ANBU were on the table – well, he'd been meaning to work with Uzuki Yugao again. The girl was nearly as good with a sword as his father had been.

But then he saw Guy sitting in the lobby, heard the conviction in his voice, and an unnerving certainty settled over him. "There's no need," he heard himself saying. "The team I want is firmly within the walls. Mitarashi Sakura, Uzumaki Naruto, and," he inhaled, "Uchiha Sasuke."

All eyes moved to Itachi. The Hokage sat with one cheek rested against his knuckles, his eyes unreadable. He studied Kakashi for a moment, then in a soft, almost delicate voice, said, "out."

Kakashi stood, rooted to one spot, as the advisors filed out of the room to either side of him. Even Shikaku didn't miss a beat, walking through the sliding door on his hands. Within moments Kakashi and the Hokage were utterly alone. Not even the ANBU had remained. He waited for Itachi to speak, but the moments dragged on with nothing to fill them but silence.

Kakashi held out for nearly two minutes. "Hokage-sama," he said, dropping back to one knee. "Your brother-"

"Is approved to go with you," Itachi said, "if you can convince him. I would suggest not mentioning that the mission came from me."

Kakashi opened his mouth. Closed it again. "I do believe he's ready."

"As do I," Itachi replied. "He is not why we are speaking in private."

Rai's eyes, thick with suspicion. Kakashi took a deep breath. "Ah."

"Uzumaki Naruto," Itachi said. There was no anger in his voice – not even sternness. But there was an edge to it, the promise something harsh. "Explain yourself."

Kakashi had been expecting this meeting since the night he had suggested the name to Naruto, and yet despite half a dozen sleepless nights spent agonizing over defenses, he found himself curiously speechless. All the justifications he had practiced seemed thin and flimsy when staring up at Itachi – when staring up at the Eighth. "Ah," he said again, desperate for time. "You put me in charge of keeping him safe."

"And from here, it looks like you are doing anything but," Itachi said. "Did the boy offend you somehow? Do you want him dead?"

"Of course not. I think the double bluff-"

"Will draw the attention of the other villages," Itachi interrupted, smooth as silk. "How could it not?"

Kakashi ground his teeth, ever so slightly. "Their attention was already drawn," he said. "I'm not the one who let your bro-" He bit back the rest of his words and swallowed them, hard, casting his eyes away.

Itachi took a moment to consider Kakashi's words. "Speak freely," he said. "That is an order."

Kakashi rose, shoving his hands in his pockets. Withdrawing into his clothes, hiding behind mask and fatigues and armor. "What I meant, Hokage-sama, is that any hope of keeping Naruto out of sight died well before I got involved. You should've kept a closer eye on him. You should never have let Sasuke have him. I know he wasn't a candidate, but his children might've been, and now they're out of this office's reach."

"I wouldn't say out of our reach," Itachi said. "A stretch, perhaps. It's very likely that Naruto is a genetic dead end, but if he isn't..." His tone was far too casual to be suggesting what he was. "I take your point, though. If a double bluff is going to succeed, it's here. He has neither the hair nor the chakra." He drummed his fingers against his thigh, a slow and steady rhythm. His eyes were on Kakashi, but Itachi himself was elsewhere. "There's not much I wouldn't give, to know who his father was."

It was a futile wish, of course. Orochimaru had burned every record when he had fled the village. Even if anything had been recovered, it could never have been trusted. Orochimaru had run the village's breeding programs since nineteen.

Another long silence followed, but this one was broken by Itachi. "Obviously much of the blame can be put at my feet," he said, "and I suppose the authority granted to you was rather broad." And yet he did not look quiet convinced. What stirred in those endless black eyes was not comprehension, but curiosity. "Is that all you have to say in your defense?"

There was nothing to defend. A man ought to have a family. "No, Hokage-sama." Kakashi met Itachi's gaze and held it, fingers pulling down his mask so the Hokage could see his face. "I ask you to consider the utility of this situation. Naruto is now a lightning rod. Any Shinobi searching for our candidates will almost certainly go through him."

Itachi shifted, and suddenly his eyes were deep, unreadable. "I see," he said. "Gather your apprentices, Hatake Kakashi. You leave as soon as your escort arrives."

The horn came a moment later – a booming roar that crashed into Kakashi like a physical force. Itachi only smiled. "Well," he said, as soon as the noise had faded, "I suppose you leave today."

-OOO-

From the top of Konohagakure's walls, Naruto could see the world.

Normally, the world was green. Konohagakure took its name from the dense woodlands in which it was built, but the village's security necessitated that Shinobi kept a vast, cleared area around the village – to make it harder for enemy Shinobi to make their way to the walls undetected. Now nearly a mile of field separated the village from the forest around it. Beyond that was a dense canopy of trees that stretched to the horizon.

Today, however, the Inuzuka horde had come to town, and the land outside the walls burst with every color of the rainbow.

Over a dozen Shinobi had gathered atop the walls, congregating in small groups and talking excitedly amongst themselves. Naruto sat at the edge, feet dangling out over the abyss below. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and marveled at the sheer number of people that assembled in the shadow of the wall. Like other Shinobi clans, the Inuzuka had petty clans sworn to them, and civilians who followed in their wake, seeking protection and belonging. Unlike the other Shinobi clans however, the Inuzuka had never settled into the lives of stationary lords. Rather, they had kept to their pre-modern traditions, roaming from place to place – and those they ruled came with them. The Inuzuka horde was a city on the march, thousands of dirty, hard travelers who looked and sounded like nothing else in the Land of Fire.

"Come on, let's go already," Naruto said, leaning over the edge of the wall. His skin prickled with energy, with the desire to slide down the wall and join the massive throng of people. Already they were setting up their tents, colorful swathes of silk and wool and more exotic cloths. Within were trinkets and baubles from all across the elemental nations, a menagerie of treasures. It had been years since the horde had last come to Konohagakure, but already Naruto was remembering their last visit – the sights and sounds and smells and tastes that the horde brought with them, unlike anything Naruto had ever experienced before.

"We can't go yet," Sakura said, ever patient. She stood above him, her long braid swaying in the breeze. "Lord Aburame has to greet the Inuzuka first. It's tradition." The Inuzuka were nearly as large and powerful as any of Konohagakure's noble clans, but their way of life made them ill-suited to governance. They maintained a friendly relationship with the Aburame, technically sworn to them, but largely free to do as they wished. "There!" Sakura said suddenly, pointing to the ground below.

Naruto followed her finger, but the figures to which she gestured were so far away that they were little more than smudges in his vision. He sucked in a breath and channeled chakra to his eyes, ignoring the way they stung as his vision sharpened. For a moment his sight was magnified too much, and the rush of sensation made his head pound, forcing him to ease the flow to a trickle. Enhancing the senses was a delicate bit of chakra manipulation, more Sakura's wheelhouse than his own, but after a moment his vision settled and he was able to see the men and women Sakura had pointed out.

Lord Aburame, flanked by several Shinobi, was covered head to toe in robes and bandages that left not an inch of skin exposed. He held in his hands a sheathed sword, which he presented to the woman facing him with a respectful inclination of his head.

Said woman was small, maybe around Naruto's height, but every inch of her was wiry muscle. Her hair, a brown so deep it was almost black, was bushy and wild and fell past her shoulders. She wore only loose pants and a bolt of silk wrapped around her breasts, so that nothing covered her tattoos.

All the Inuzuka had tattoos, but this one had more than most. Bold lines of red and black and blue and yellow, skulls and fires and towers imprinted on her deeply tanned skin. It was said that the Inuzuka wore the story of their lives upon their skin, for any man bold enough to read, but all Naruto knew of the practice was that it was deeply enmeshed in history and symbolism that he only partially understood.

"That's Inuzuka Tsume." The words came from Sasuke, who sat cross legged next to Naruto. His face was pensive. "She killed the last Chieftain in ten seconds. They say it's the shortest duel for the title in Inuzuka history." He paused for a moment, then said, "I hear she's got a daughter."

Naruto laughed. "Sounds like there are less risky prospects out there."

"Did I give you the impression I was timid?" Sasuke asked, and when Naruto looked over he could've sworn he saw the shadow of a smile on the Uchiha Prince's face.

Naruto laughed again. "I'm trying to picture the look on everyone's face when you come back with an Inuzuka princess in tow."

"I'd be more worried about the faces of the Inuzuka when I asked," Sasuke said. "They don't often marry outside the horde." He made a face. "Wait, no. I'd be more worried about my father's face when he learned I'd sworn myself to a savage."

"They're not savages," Naruto protested, "they're our allies. Part of Konohagakure."

"I'm not the one you have to convince," Sasuke said. "I visited the horde the last time they came to the village. It was...overwhelming. Bursting at the seams. Whatever the Inuzuka are, they're not savages."

"Ah, I went too!" Naruto said, beaming. "Did you buy anything? I bought a helmet they took off a Stone Shinobi, and I won a plant from the Land of Water in a bet." He scowled. "It died though. It needed more water than I did."

Wordlessly, Sasuke unbuttoned his flak jacket and shrugged it to the ground. He pulled down the collar of his fatigues to expose three tomoes surrounding a circle on his shoulder – a minimalist sharingan eye, black ink on ivory skin.

Naruto gaped. "You got a tattoo?" Even Sakura was staring, their conversation pulling her from her observation of the Inuzuka Chieftain.

"It was Shisui's idea," Sasuke said, redressing himself. "It was my first time seeing the Inuzuka and being old enough to really understand. I made a comment about the tattoos. They're...very striking. Next thing I know I was half a bottle of sake deep and getting stabbed with needles in a tent that smelled like dog." He shook his head. "It was the only time in my life I've ever seen my mother that angry...I really thought she'd kill Shisui. My father was back in Uchiha lands, so he didn't learn for months, but Itachi…" he trailed off into an uneasy silence, then returned his attention to the horde below. A scowl darkened his features, making them seem imperious and cruel.

Naruto sat, the three of them an island of quiet within a sea of background noise. The conversations of the other Shinobi, the general clamor of the horde before them and the village behind – they rose and fell like waves, but did not touch the apprentices of Hatake Kakashi. Such was the way of things, when the Eighth was mentioned.

It was Sakura who first dared to speak. "It...well, you know, it's actually kind of of strange," she stammered, her eyes still locked on Lord Aburame and the Inuzuka Chieftain. "The Inuzuka were, well, the horde as a whole I suppose, they were last here, what, three years back? Normally they're gone for much longer stretches."

Sasuke glanced over at her. "That's true," he said. The words were slow, careful, as if he were double or triple checking for a reference to Itachi that might be hidden within. "Last I heard they were out east, tangling with some Sunagakure desert savages." His eyes narrowed. "And they're getting a lot of gifts. I wonder if they got called back?"

Naruto took another look, and sure enough the gifts were piling up behind the Inuzuka Chieftain – the sword Naruto had seen earlier, alongside several other fine weapons. Rugs spun by Aburame silkworms. A wooden cart that looked to be grown from Senju redwood. An orb of glass that broke the sunlight into a dozen fractal rainbows. "The horde's not a dog," he said, then chuckled at his own joke. "I mean, it doesn't come when called."

"Depends on who's doing the calling, doesn't it?" Sakura asked, arching an eyebrow.

"It's worth investigating," Sasuke said. Sakura flushed at his words.

It was at that moment that Lord Aburame stepped away from the Inuzuka Chieftain and raised his arms high above his head. The Shinobi around them – there were at least fifty now that Naruto could see, and still more clambering up the side of the wall to join them – burst into an excited buzzing as the Aburame brought his hands down.

"That's the signal," Sasuke said. "Let's-"

Naruto whooped and pushed himself off the edge of the wall, spreading his arms as his stomach gave a sudden, terrifying lurch. A moment later he was in free fall – or would've been, had his feet not stayed tethered to the wall with a quick application of chakra. Naruto limited the flow, and the magnetic connection weakened until it was no longer powerful enough to defy gravity – but it was enough to slow his fall, sending him sliding gracefully down the wall instead of plummeting to his death.

A laugh bubbled up in Naruto's chest as the wind rushed through his hair, sending it whipping every which way. He leaned forward and fell into a tumble, somersaulting down the sheer surface before twisting and grabbing onto the wall with both hands and feet to better control his descent. Above him, Sakura, who was herself descending much more sensibly, shouted something that was torn away by the wind. Naruto was about to respond with his own shout when a blue shape blurred past him at such speed that the only image he was able to gleam from it was Sasuke's smirking face.

Naruto laughed again and lessened the resistance, gaining speed to match Sasuke. The two of them were more falling than sliding now, only barely skimming hands and feet against the wall. The ground rose to meet them, faster and faster – but as Sasuke showed no sign of slowing, neither did Naruto.

Finally, with only ten feet left between them and a sudden, violent reunion with the ground, Sasuke abruptly slowed. Naruto felt a surge of triumph and rushed to channel chakra to his hands and feet, but his control was not as flawless as Sasuke's, and he slowed only partially.

There was a sudden thud, an explosion of light and color and pain. Naruto's jaw slammed shut, his teeth and bones vibrating from the impact, he was tumbling end over end, bleeding excess momentum across the grass. Then, as suddenly as it had started Naruto was staring up at the sky, which spun violently around him.

"Naruto!" Sakura's voice was more like the wail of a dying animal than that of young woman, and then the spinning sky was replaced by her face, which also spun but looked far more concerned about it. "Are you hurt?" She asked, pressing fingers into his legs. "Can you feel this?"

"Ow, shit, yeah," Naruto groaned, pushing himself into a sitting position. "Sage, Sakura, you're the only thing hurting me right now."

Sakura scowled at him. "I can't believe you," she said, shoving him back down to the grass – not gently, but not so violently as she could have. "You're going to get yourself killed someday."

"Yeah, but I'm gonna die a winner," Naruto said, craning his neck until he caught a glimpse of Sasuke. "You hear that, Sasuke-sama? How's defeat taste? Like expired milk, I bet."

Sasuke rolled his eyes and bent down to pick Naruto up, hooking his own arms under the blond's armpits. "Somehow I think I came out ahead of this one," he said, patting Naruto on the back. "Sakura-chan's going to be badgering you about that all day, you know."

"So it's like every day of my life?" Naruto asked, then lifted his arms in a vain attempt to ward off Sakura's grabbing of his ear. "I take it back! I take it back!"

It was only then his faculties returned enough to see the horde. A tent city stretched out before him, thousands of people and animals crammed in as small a space as could conceivably fit them – and then crammed in a little tighter, just for good measure. Music, song, shouts, the clash of steel against steel, arguments, haggling, wailing, conversations in a dozen different languages, the braying of horses, the roars and barks and snarls and howls of hounds. Roasting meat, sweat, shit, perfume, spices, oil, ash, blood, the musk of hound.

And they were everywhere, the dogs that gave the Inuzuka their name. Packs of puppies darted through the feet of the men and women of the horde. Dogs whose heads came up to Naruto's chest bounded this way and that, sometimes bearing goods on their back with use of a specialized saddle. Still more stretched taller than Naruto himself, the size of horses – veritable mountains of muscle and fur, their coats painted in rough imitation of the Inuzuka tattoos. War dogs, the pinnacle of a thousand years of aggressive breeding.

"You would think they'd be smaller than I remembered," Sakura said, placing herself ever so slightly behind Naruto and peering warily over his shoulder. "Since I was so much smaller when I last saw them...but I think they're bigger than ever. Amaterasu protect me." She spat the last words in a harsh whisper.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Naruto said, taking her hand. "Seriously, don't, because they're between us and the meat, and the meat is non-negotiable."

"Look at that crowd," Sasuke said, pointing at a gap in the press of tents. Sure enough, a large mass of bodies had gathered, their density noticeable even in the confines of the horde. They were faced away from the village, pushing and jostling, smaller bodies seated on the shoulders of larger ones to get a better view of whatever was attracting them. They were close enough to be heard, but not so close that Naruto could make out anything other than a dull roar amongst the din.

"Come on," Sasuke said, setting out towards the crowd.

"But the dogs," Sakura said.

"But the meat!" Naruto said.

Sasuke's eyes settled on them, his face the Lord's mask – distant, aloof, unconcerned with the opinions of the chattering sheep. "I'm pulling rank," he said. "Now come on, before we miss it."

Naruto rolled his eyes but followed, making sure to keep himself between Sakura and the nearest war dog. It was impossible to walk through the horde unmolested, and every step found him bumping or brushing against a new body. Within moments he was sweating – in the thick of the horde, a cool spring afternoon became a sweltering summer day. Sasuke moved through the ocean of flesh like a leaf in the wind, turning and sidestepping with an effortless grace. Naruto merely lowered his head and plowed forwards, while Sakura kept up a steady stream of apologies in his wake.

Finally they reached the crowd, a wall of bodies with their backs turned. Sasuke tried to knife his way through the mob, turning sideways and trying to squeeze through a gap, but it closed as quickly as it had opened. After a few moments of fruitless squeezing Naruto tapped Sasuke on the shoulder to get his attention. As the Uchiha turned, Naruto pressed his hands together and summoned three shadow clones in a puff of smoke.

As it turned out, even atop the clones' shoulders it was impossible to see over the crowd, and Naruto was forced to make another three clones to get the necessary height. Maintaining six clones at once was a strenuous affair, and stacked three people high they wavered and wobbled and threatened to collapse with every slight gust of wind, but at least they could see what all the fuss was about.

The crowd had gathered in the shape of a long, thin oval. At each end of the oval stood a man and a war dog. One man was tall, with a mane of red hair. He wore armored pants and no shirt, to present his many tattoos to the world, and he clutched a curved sword in one hand. His war dog was tall and thin, its paint swirls of green and blue.

The other man was shorter, his brown hair cut short as well. The tattoos upon his chest were less numerous than his opponents, but he bore two red fangs on his cheeks. His war dog was shorter, stockier than the other, its white fur broken by brutal streaks of red. Both dogs wore saddles upon their backs, supple leather worn from hard riding.

The two men took several minutes to prepare for battle. Men and women crowded around them, rubbing them down with oil, checking the straps on their saddles. Finally someone in the middle blew a horn, and the two vaulted up onto their hounds amidst a frenzied cheer from the crowd.

"They're fighting?" Naruto asked, shouting to be heard above the din. "About what?"

"Who knows?" Sasuke asked. "The Inuzuka will fight over anything. There's a reason we call them savages."

The roaring crowd, the fighters getting prepared to tear into each other – it certainly wasn't a civilized affair, Naruto supposed. And yet as the men spurred their dogs into violent, loping movement, he found himself unable to look away. The dogs were faster than a Shinobi, even at a dead sprint, and their long strides ate up the ground between them in a flash. Had Naruto not gotten used to following such speed, from long hours sparring with Kakashi, he would not even have been able to follow their movement. As it was, they were blurs of white and red and black and blue. The two riders stood in the stirrups, their bodies pressed flat against the backs of the mounts.

Just before the dogs crashed together in a tangle of fang and claw and fur, the riders leapt from their saddles. They collided in midair, the red haired one's sword flashing in the afternoon light. The crowd gave a single, furious roar as the combatants fell to the dirt, the red haired one on top, his opponent beneath him. The dogs fell to the ground in the other direction, snarling and clawing at each other in a frenzy of raw, animal violence. First the red-marked one was on top, then the blue-marked one displaced him, over and over and over again.

Their masters were engaged in their own struggle, the red haired boy raising his blade high into the air – but then the brown haired one shoved his palm forward, his lips locked in a wordless snarl. The air around his hand rippled and exploded forwards, catching his opponent head on, and red blood erupted from the sword-wielder's skin. He screamed, a high agonized shriek, stumbling backwards, his skin rent by a series of long, horizontal cuts that spanned from shoulder to mid thigh. Then he toppled backwards and hit the dirt hard, his sword skittering across the ground like a demented insect.

Naruto had thought the crowd wild before but now it truly thundered, a force of nature more than a collection of people. They leapt up and down, screamed and roared and hollered, jostling each other back and forth.

The brown haired boy, victorious, leapt to his feet. The dogs had disentangled, the skinny blue-marked one retreating to nudge at his master, who groaned and writhed along the ground – hurting, but not dead. There was a lot of blood, but Naruto didn't think the wounds were enough to kill him. Even as he screamed, a handful of the men and women who had prepared him for battle darted forward out of the crowd, dragging him away.

The crowd did not care. It had eyes only for the victor, who stopped rubbing his war dog's head to pound his fists against his own chest. "I am Inuzuka Kiba!" He bellowed, throwing his head back as if his voice carried recoil. "All who have challenged me are blooded!" He swept his arm across the oval clearing, to demonstrate the failure of his opponent. "I will travel east, across the sands! I will ride to the walls of Sunagakure and piss on the jewel of the desert!"

Adulation poured from the crowd, which surged forward to embrace their champion. Kiba stood, his arms spread wide, as they crashed against him. Naruto gasped as the crowd that had gathered behind him slammed into his shadow clones, and in a burst of smoke he, Sakura, and Sasuke tumbled to the grass.

Naruto landed hard for the second time in ten minutes, staring up at the sky. Sasuke landed beside him on all fours, like some kind of cat, whereas Sakura split the difference and fell into a roll to mitigate the fall. "Now can we eat meat?" Naruto shouted, so that his friends could hear him.

To his surprise it was neither Sasuke's nor Sakura's voice the answered – neither Sasuke's nor Sakura's face that appeared in his field of vision. "Oh good," Kakashi said, smiling in the way he did, with his eyes rather than his perpetually hidden mouth. "I see you've met our tour guide."