F O U R
WINNERS AND LOSERS
...
THEY had been seven when they had met.
Yahiko's parents had wanted him home that day, to help with chopping up some firewood for the coming winter, and if he'd listened to them, he would've been dead too. But he'd been desperate to go to the neighbouring town – a good five-hour trek, both ways – to get a special type of fish. Aymodoki – it was a rare species found in but a few villages in their land. Also known as the Kissing Loach, it sounded pretty lame to Yahiko, but his grandmother absolutely adored Aymodoki. Apparently, when they'd been younger, his grandfather had gifted her one.
Yahiko figured it would be a good anniversary present, so when his parents sent him off to the forest at the edge of town, instead of stopping to collect wood and haul it back home, Yahiko had just kept going. The trek had been tough because he'd only been given enough food for a light snack, but Yahiko had been determined.
The fish keeper in the next village over had been mighty impressed with his tale too – even deigning to give him two fish for the price of one. "It's your luck day! Now you better hurry, lad." The old merchant had looked up at the waning sun. "You'll want to be home before dark."
It was with a light heart that Yahiko had begun the journey back, but even before he'd reached his village, he'd known something was wrong. There was smoke – way too much smoke – painting the sky. His gut told him to slow down. Coughing, Yahiko decided to leave the ease of the straight (and very much exposed) road and take the longer route through the forest. It was a convoluted path – only those born and bred in the small village of Iki could hope to navigate it's twists and turns.
He didn't encounter anyone the entire way back – not even one wild animal. He didn't even detect the sounds of chirping birds. So, it was with a growing feeling of dread that he finally laid his eyes on his village… or what remained of it.
"No." The word was torn from his mouth on a soft breath and snatched away by the northward wind. No. No. No! NO. NONONONO –
"Gramps! Grams!" Suddenly Yahiko didn't care who heard him, all he cared about was finding his family. He ran down the village streets, heading for his house. "Mother! Father!" A sob escaped him. He dropped the plastic packet that housed the Aymodoki. He kept running. "Hello?!" Tears were falling. He stumbled over things he didn't care to examine more closely… "Anyone?!"
No one answered him. The town was scorched and only the bones of it's buildings and people remained, buried under a heavy blanket of ash.
What had happened?
He fell to his knees, sobbing.
It was only when the sun had fully set that he stood up, a strange mixture of angry and hopeless. He felt as lifeless as the ashes.
Fish, he thought belatedly. I've got to get the fish. Then he had to get out of there. Most of the noxious smoke was being blown north, away from him. As night came on, the winds might become unpredictable.
"Fish," he mumbled, his voice sounding hoarse.
It's what his grandparents would probably want. For him to survive, even if Yahiko himself didn't care at that moment what happened next.
He stood up. He knew this town like the back of his hand, but suddenly he couldn't remember where he'd dropped the fish or how to get there. He started combing the streets, trying to gather his bearings, when he paused.
He could hear… a wailing noise? It sounded like a cat, but…
Yahiko hesitated, then gritted his teeth.
It was either an animal or maybe some enemy ninja – either way, he wasn't running away. His feet carried him towards the sound – and he was now so angry he was almost hoping it was the latter.
The sound appeared to be coming from the charred remnants of what was probably once a residential home (much like his own). Not from, nearby, Yahiko corrected himself. Hidden to the left of what remained of the house's foundation, was a very small door.
Yahiko kneeled, frowning. A cellar.
There was thumping and wailing – either this was one giant cat or…
Realisation hit him. "Hang on," Yahiko said. "You won't be trapped for much longer! I'm opening it." Yahiko couldn't see a lock, so figured it would be easy enough.
"It's stuck!" Came the muffled response.
"I'm really strong," Yahiko assured the villager, and started prying the doors open. Damn. It was jammed. "You push from the inside!" he instructed, pulling with all his might.
He could hear some grunts of effort from the other side. "More – force," he panted, digging deep for strength he desperately hoped he had.
"I'm – trying – "
Despite everything, Yahiko almost smiled. The voice sounded irritated rather than frightened. "Try – harder," Yahiko said.
"I'm going to do a running start," the voice suddenly decided.
"Wait, what?"
"You pull at the same time. On my count, alright – one – two – three – "
"Whoa!"
The cellar's doors flew open, Yahiko clearly heard a high-pitched squeal and saw a flash of grey-blue, before, carried by what he could only assume was considerable momentum, the creature landed on top of him, knocking the air from his lungs.
Yahiko was in a world of pain. "Ughh," he groaned.
"S-sorry," she panted. The girl on top of him leaned back up, so that she was now sitting on him. Her hazel eyes were wide, taking in the view. "Oh," she said, as she saw what had become of her home, the sound impossibly small and delicate.
Yahiko still couldn't breathe, and was pretty sure he was half delirious, but his first thought was that she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. If he hadn't gone through what he had today, his heart might've started beating faster. But his priorities had been permanently re-arranged and even her beauty wasn't worth suffocating to death. He couldn't reach her shoulder, so tapped her stomach to get her attention.
She yelped softly, startling and clambering off him. He could finally gulp down air. "So sorry! I'm Konan, by the way." And even though she was in the exact same boat as him, she was actually able to dredge up a shy smile. She's brave, Yahiko realised. "What's your name?"
"Yahiko."
"Huh. I think I've seen you around the village before." She shrugged and offered him her hand. "Thanks for helping me."
Yahiko looked at her kind face and outstretched hand and suddenly, he just knew. The two of them would survive. He'd make sure of it.
Yahiko took Konan's hand and let the girl who would become his first proper best friend pull him up.
He could never have imagined that eleven years later he would face that same girl in battle, in a foreign village that she'd claim was her only home.
Yeah, Yahiko thought darkly, his mind flitting back to the present. Kakashi and Tekka were still fighting, but he could sense the end of their physical therapy session was imminent. And who's fault is that?
As Kakashi struck the winning blow, Yahiko wondered, not for the first time, if maybe Nagato hadn't been right after all…
Once his closest and only friend, Konan would now be his toughest opponent.
...
Kakashi and Tekka's fight had ended as Konan had expected; with the late White Fang's son emerging victorious. Not without, Konan noted uneasily, significant injuries.
The two boys had been vicious – all of Tekka's pent up anger unleashed at an exasperated Kakashi. In the end, Kakashi had pit his Sharingan against Tekka's in an attempt to distract him long enough to send in a clone to snatch the kunai. It had worked, but only because Tekka had let it. For all his pompousness, the Uchiha was skilled. At the cost of the match, he chose to focus his attention entirely on his Sharingan. Tekka's visual jutsu overpowered the real Kakashi; a sharp sound of pain escaped the white haired nin. He fell to the ground, groaning, even as his clone successfully lifted Tekka's kunai, green string fluttering limply in the breeze.
Konan frowned. This was why Genjutsu was such a headache; being an ocular illusion, she had no idea what Tekka was doing. But she did know this match had officially gone on long enough.
"Winner!" Konan said sharply, indicating Kakashi. His clone dropped the second kunai beside the real version of himself, which lay sprawled ungracefully on the grass. Two of her own paper clones manifested into reality; one putting a forceful hand on Tekka's shoulder, the other releasing Kakashi from Genjutsu.
Tekka hadn't escaped the battle scratch free either; he was panting heavily, decorated in cuts and scrapes, his right arm pink and shiny from Kakashi's fire jutsu and his left leg cyanotic from the copy-nin's ice-style…
Tekka didn't even have the energy to protest, he merely grunted and collapsed onto his knees. "Fine," he said grudgingly. "Technically, he wins."
Kakashi was now leaning heavily on both his own and her clones for support, one arm slung around each concentration of chakra, the two kunai lying innocently at his feet. "Technically is good enough for me," he panted.
"Well, I was hoping that you'd both watch this next fight – but I'd be lying if I said you didn't look like discount versions of your usual selves," Konan admitted. "My clones will try heal you up." Though she hadn't officially been Konan's sensei, Tsunade had taught her well. The Sanin had lobbied for a medical ninja on every team, but she'd told Konan that, in reality, they needed to do more – every ninja ought to learn basic medical ninjutsu. "If they're concerned, they'll take you to the hospital."
Her clones immediately acted on her orders, moving the boys off to the side of the training field, out of the way of any harm.
Yahiko ran a hand through his sunset-coloured hair, nodding approvingly at her. "Smart move – getting those two to spar it out."
Konan frowned. Maybe, but that didn't stop the small stabs of guilt she felt every time she glanced at her battered teammates. Truthfully, it had been a while since she'd led a mission, and even then she'd never been in charge of an S rank before. She'd forgotten how responsibility came with cost, even in the small decisions.
But hopefully, Tekka would calm himself now, and at least she'd seen for herself that Kakashi's and Tekka's skills were up to scratch.
Konan shrugged. "Yeah, well, our turn next." She moved to pick up the two kunai Kakashi had collected, tossing the one with the blue bow towards Yahiko. He caught it easily. Konan readied her stance, a silent question in her eyes. He understood immediately.
Yahiko nodded once, motioning with the fingers of his right hand, the universal sign for bring it. The kunai that was her target was held loosely in his left. "Give me your best shot."
Instead of rushing forwards, Konan paused. Every match had a unique energy to it, and she'd long ago realised that if you took some time to be mindful of it, it could provide clues about your opponent and the difficulty of the fight itself. Konan's gut detected a faint undercurrent of anticipation between them; she supposed she could acknowledge that she was curious. How talented must this Rain shinobi be to have been rostered onto a mission such as this?
Time to find out.
Konan flicked her wrist and her kunai disappeared. She made some hand signs and dashed forward, adeptly dodging some shuriken and a water-style blast, and threw a wicked right hook. He blocked it with his own right hand, as she'd expected. What she hadn't expected was that he would try and use the valuable kunai is his left hand to attack her; she blocked it with her own left hand, using her remaining shuriken.
They were interlocked, barely a few inches between them.
"Here's a tip," she said. His eyes were focused on her, trying to gauge her next move. "Using a valuable item in attack is a sure-fire way to lose said valuable item."
She twisted her left wrist, simultaneously applying pressure downwards from their interlocked right hands, targeting Yahiko's left wrist. His left hand gave way, fingers spasming to release his precious kunai, which twirled up into the air.
Mine, thought Konan, and wasn't worried even when his ankle brought her legs down from under her. She merely used his move to her advantage, grabbing firmly onto his hands and focusing her chakra on the dorsal side of her body; momentum, gravity and chakra worked together to increase her weight and drag him down too.
He landed ungracefully on top of her, with enough force to unceremoniously shove the air from her lungs… Or at least, he would have if she were real.
As her paper clone crumbled into a heap of origami sheets with a disgruntled Yahiko lying on top, the real Konan, the one that (in spite of some malicious rumours) wasn't merely paper animated into life, grabbed the kunai with the blue bow before it even hit the ground.
She grinned. "Gotcha."
Yahiko groaned, slowly sitting up. He raised his hand. "I have a question."
Konan wondered whether he was going to try arguing his way out of the loss. "The time for questions was before we begun," she pointed out, finally bringing out her own kunai wrapped in green. She'd won, which wasn't really a shock, but she hadn't expected him to go down so easily… He doesn't seem to be much of a tactician.
"My question is simple, though. And very relevant."
She glanced down at Yahiko. "What is it, then?"
His eyes seemed to be laughing at her. "Kakashi won and got to stay on the team. That was his prize. What do I get when I win?"
Konan narrowed her eyes. You haven't won, she was about to say. But then she realised his kunai was becoming uncomfortably warm in her hand – and the realisation struck her a moment before the flash-bomb he'd disguised as the kunai did.
...
Yahiko was prepared, lunging for her in one sure strike. For a brief moment, Konan was confused, her guard completely lowered, and that was all he needed. If it hadn't been for the fact that she, by habit rather than forethought, always created a quick substitution before any fight, he definitely would have won then and there.
As it was, her fail safe found an unexpected use and he came into contact with a log; Konan materialised a few metres away, more shaken than she'd have cared to admit. The words of her earlier thoughts sure had a bitter aftertaste. Clearly, he'd used a transformation jutsu to disguise a flash bomb as the blue kunai. Not only did that require planning and subtlety, but the technique itself demanded nothing short of precise chakra control.
As the blinding light began to fade, she could see blurry spots and a grinning Yahiko. He doesn't seem phased by my substitution at all, she realised. Also, he has dimples. "I work better with some motivation," he added cheekily.
Konan made a frustrated sound. He'd surprised (and maybe impressed) her a little with that lateral thinking – clearly, he'd used the time during which Kakashi and Tekka were fighting to do more than just sit and watch the match idly – but she wasn't about to let him know that. "You're not going to have another chance to put even a scratch on me," she assured him.
"Wouldn't want to, even if I could, leader," Yahiko replied. "But since you seem so confident, how about this. If I somehow surpass all the odds and win, you owe me one favour."
Konan looked at him suspiciously. "What kind of favour?"
"Well, if the match keeps progressing at this rate," Yahiko laughed. "You'll find out soon enough."
"You arrogant little – " Konan made her hands weave the appropriate signs and watched his eyes widen as another paper clone appeared, this one with wings. She threw her green bow bearing kunai at the clone, who presumed to ascend into the air.
The clone hovered several meters above them all, her wings creating a breeze that reached them down on the training field.
Yahiko's eyes were wide as he murmured something softly.
Konan glared at him, not catching a word of it. "Still feeling confident?"
This time Yahiko didn't respond, just charged. Konan focused on him, barely countering his move in time. He was faster now, but adrenaline was finally pumping in her veins; so was she. They sparred for a few minutes, trading swings, blocks and hits. She quickly realised he was able to dodge her movements fairly well; she was connecting only half of the time. It started off a little annoying, quickly progressing to substantially annoying when he actually evaded an unorthodox attack combo Konan had picked up in her childhood (one which often threw ninja for a loop) and knocked her backward several meters without actually touching her.
"How the hell did he do that?" Konan murmured, trying to get back up. Her legs didn't seem to want to co-operate.
Yahiko was already meters away, moving towards her clone, jumping onto nearby trees to gain height. Konan figured she should move her floating creation higher in the air, but didn't really have the capability of mustering up the required shit-tonne of chakra needed to do so in her disorientated state.
Besides, her impressive jutsu had a fail safe of it's own.
Angelic Konan was flying high and no water or fire jutsu was about to bring her down. She was different from Konan's usual paper clones. Konan had infused her own chakra into each small sheet of paper that she was composed of, making them resistant to multiple chakra natures.
The key was connectivity; each paper had its own chakra supply, and when they were connected, like an electrical circuit, her jutsu was nearly unbeatable.
Water could not break her circuit; it just made the sheets stick together, strengthening the connection. Fire burned rapidly through them, again enhancing the connection. If anything, those attacks merely strengthened her clones – if Yahiko went for a water style jutsu, she could use the chakra infused in his blast to make her clone retaliate.
The only thing that could really bring her creation down was something that would make the papers curl into themselves, as that often disrupted the chakra connection emanating between the sheets. The only person who'd ever managed to break her circuit was currently miles away from the village…
Yahiko weaved some signs, before bringing both index fingers to his lips. "Oil style; gasoline jett."
Well, Konan thought. Shit.
She was finally on her feet, finally able to run – but she knew she would never be fast enough. He'd been trained by Jariyah, but for the Toad Sage to have taught him that trick…
Konan groaned as oil coated the angel, helpless to do anything but watch as it's wings ceased to flap and it's constituent origami sheets separated and wilted. Her wide eyes fixated on her prized kunai, watching as it fell like a shooting star – right into the outstretched hands of one very smug and absolutely infuriating shinobi.
A/N:
In response to Mei: Oooh I don't want to spoil the story, but... yeah, let's just say when *certain things* come to light, *certain characters* will .. uh .. react in *certain ways*
(Though that's probably just more confusing.)