A.N: Toot toot! We've got a rampage of chapter printing action going on here. Enjoy it while it lasts, I imagine I'll be hitting another hiatus eventually, but I'm certainly enjoying this.

===Chapter 7===

Three weeks later, the waiting list to see the Hokage had remained a mile long, and in the personal window the blond managed to garner, the old man explained that his time was going to be tight. The old man would be busy for a few months, and it kept the promise of explaining the weird development on the backburner.

He wasn't overly happy to sit on a secret for so long, especially when he resolved to tell, but that didn't mean he had to sit idly and wait for the encounter to come. Naruto could now deploy his 'tails' and retract them at will. Sweep small objects closer and had a general idea of how strong they could be.

One of his first tasks had been to find out if he ran the risk of doing serious damage, or generally hurting people if he wasn't careful. Of course, his first test had been trying to spear through a tree. He discovered after the fact that, while dissimilar to his arms or legs, the jolt and sore disfiguration that came with smashing a fist into such a thing translated roughly into the recourse on his torso.

Long short, he wouldn't be stabbing anyone, and the affect he could put on larger objects was negligible unless he was really focusing on it. He was a bit concerned, because while bashing or thrusting didn't result in any potential harm, the limbs could put a considerable amount of pressure by wrapping around something like a snake or noose. It took a near forceful amount of concentration, but he managed to tear a barrel and subsequent planks, and even split them with the appendages.

Ghost hugs were off the table. He did manage to get away with a lengthy shoulder prank on some circles, but he actually felt really guilty about the idea of haunting people. Hurting people would end up being a deciding factor in a lot of what he was willing to do.

By word on the street, the mess with the old man wouldn't wind down until another week, and ever after, things were likely to remain busy into the spring. What to do what to do…

I feel almost guilty about the cloud entourage. The cloud ninja were facing a lot of haughty and unpleasant musings about the village. Pitting on top of the conspiracy to commit kidnapping, I felt very close to having played their contributions already. It's not that the cloud isn't willing to try for peace. They brought every instrument necessary to make the right machinations happen. For all their bluster, they were intent and decisive as well.

If the nation of proud warriors was holding out, they made a damn worthy cover for it. The guilt lied in the torch being wagered on a single little girl, and her uncle. As selfish as all that was, It meant that at the very least, I would have to face them with something greater than my own pride. The shortcoming on my part lent to a bitterness, and something too close resembling bloodthirst.

It was a messy cycle. At the very least, I could lead with that in mind. That said, the fact that I can still taste the wraith that hounded Orochimaru has been the source of great pondering. Fortunately, not all things vile are adversaries.

Word reached me that the cloud emissaries were packing up. An early conclusion to opening negotiations three days prior. That torch drew the wire like a mousetrap being armed. I could already feel the bar being set. The night itself held a note of finality in the celebrations. A conclusiveness that neglected greatly the broad contribution of both villages.

It was too quant for a promising leave, and too hollow. I didn't put all of my stock in superstition. The area set aside for the delegation was well known, and the vantage I had discovered, perhaps a touch too optimal. Whereas the streets were kept clear of any curious interlopers, the window well to the restricted section of the library had massive exposure into each of the rooms. Well lit through the long nights, it was easy to see that the party within was waiting for something. Meditating on the scarce preparations remaining, I caught signs of activity and the group poured out to finish it off. As they cleared it with the guards, I counted haircuts. One in particular, and I double checked those with scarves, all of them for the distinct tattoo afterwards.

With the verdict on the line, I called upon my ability once more.

"Water release: Stronghold"

One presence, one I had memorized for its affect on the group. Knowing this only made it worse, as the presence of the group projected it far out across the village and beyond the walls.

The twinge of beration from my water affinity was akin to a final toll, and I bounced my wrist against the window, "And there's my cue."

Water was my ace for reaction and projection, but it wasn't my go to for transportation. Dark ringes spots spread across my arm, and a fair glow cast over the side of the building as needles of light rose from my flesh, 'Note to self, fire and ether are not compatible with stealth.' Swinging onto the roof, I gazed after the phantom image of the projection.

"Wind release: Seam step." The edge of wavering glint of moonlight in the eddies of warm homes bleeding heat. They became my sword. In the blink of an eye, I was skipping across rooftops, a jagged arc of afterimage. I paused over the Hyuga compound for a second to confirm the reaction about the place, vanishing once more before those eyes could zero in on me, but not without escaping notice. (What? This is an attention fueled story.)

Once I reached the threshold of the wall, I was out of range of the seam step. Under cover of night, and shy on light pollution, there was little else to ground the technique on. Short of the little girl spontaneously spewing a fireball, It was gonna have to be an act of legwork.

Thankfully, I'm not out of tricks just yet. "Earth release: Undercurrent." For the following hour, it was a matter of rinse lather and repeat. It was the grace of a lighter load, and the limit of his head start. I had nearly failed to keep that promise to myself, and the final training field was not long ahead of us. I did manage to pass Hiashi halfway, but that lead wouldn't last for long.

On top of that, I wasn't eager to be a Hyuga's pincushion. In a track of field a few yards wide, The kidnapper came to a halt in the opposite end. A fan of shuriken split the grass and the tree I stood on. He wasn't a slouch in accuracy.

"Release the hostage now, and you can return home unchallenged. I can give you five minutes, but beyond that, it's a deathmatch." I sprinted across the meadow as I said this. As poor a vantage as this was, an opening like this didn't last long in a shinobi bout.

The guy flitted through hand seals and, in an instant, lighting arced down from the treetop. The kunai in the ground caught the arc like sunken teeth, and the field of tall grass spewed fire immediately.

I was a good arms length from the brunt of the blast, but this was the furthest thing from a disadvantage. Yellow needles lifted from my arm, meeting with a shroud of yellow that blended like a needle in the proverbial haystack. A kunai with a paper tag swept past me so quickly, it barely registered. I was caught in a surge of fire as the seal was destroyed. My extended arm sank deep into a swath of grass coming alive with flame. The roaring white mass of the explosion pulsating around me, pumping fresh flame like a beating heart.

"Like I said, Five minutes. Use them how you want, but until the girl is resting in the bow, The deal is a tossup."

I was on his heels for a few seconds, gradually losing that proximity until I rose to the trees as well. The sheet of white flame reduced to an ember that rose off my back like a satchel. The burning streak behind me left no room for doubt in either of our minds that I had him in my sights.

"Three minutes. If the deal expires, all bets are off."

"Like hell amature." The guy muttered under his breath.

He probably didn't realize, but in this state, I could feel the words forming in his throat. I focused the last of the white flame into the shroud on my arms.

A second explosive tag went off right beneath me as the last traces of white were being consumed. The explosion dropped any light I carried from around him for a few seconds, granting the sense of victory at hand. That changed to doubt and soon after alarm as the forest around him began to rattle.

The white fire coated both of my arms in a painful luminescence, and I actually had to focus my wind release behind me to control the flow enough that it didn't pulverize my sockets. The resulting stream created a throbbing tuning fork with the kick of a jet.

I was keeping pace to his left soon after, and shifted my arms forward to burn off some speed, "Last warning. The other end of this next training field in my timestamp."

He began to sweat, and I actually had the time to define the boundaries of the site as he crossed it. That said, when it came to that late edge, I slammed into him at a right angle.

The treeline tore apart as the two of us tore down from the treeline. Falling out of it one of the last meadows. He managed to keep hold of the sack containing the child, but it wore on his muscles after that trip.

My white arms saturated to yellow as we both rose to our feet. From blowtorch to billowing shroud, I still felt like I was toting two cannons. Black rings painted along the sides and I realized that, no, my jacket would probably not be coming out of that. When I tried to flex my elbows, I felt as bad as I heard the crack of dislodging cartilage, "Seriously. I am not waiting for papa bear to arrive." The markings piled on and green, blue and red wove into the mix. Circuitous patterns connected my shoulders to my fingertips. The light gradually died down as the markings formed my silhouette.

He had the gall to hoist the sack and break for it. If you haven't seen a punch that shatters marble, that's roughly what happened. A wedge of earth rose in his way and crashed down. A roundhouse slicing across his jaw and lifting him up to the crack of thunder.

Dragging my arms forward, I called out, "Veil form: Firewall!"

His stomach was caught between both shockwaves to the chest and abs. A deafened gasp escaped his lips.

"Spear form: Pressure point." To say his chakra network lit up like a christmas tree, then again, a porcupine would be more accurate.

The jonin stood for a second, perplexed before heaving forward, as though he realized he weren't as awake as he thought.

I uh… I may have opened every tenketsu in his body. Not like, hey that flows that way, but rather, Infinite one hundred percent opened.

As I broke his fall, I tried to prop him up rather than migrate to the ground "Stone form: Brimstone lotus." Steam rose from my arms, and the strands of woven light flaked off of my arms. I felt the energy in his body fight it, but then his tenketsu took the initiative to start winding back. No creature on earth could sustain that level of chakra flow.

I gave a ten count and shifted over to the bagged child. She was a bit feverish, but sleeping soundly. The girl went and put up her fair share of a fight.

I glanced up to the moon and rustled my hair, "Gosh dang it, I'm outta time!" Supporting the back of the delinquent ninja, and pressing the sack to his chest, I focused on my other ability. A tingling spread throughout my body as the trio of overworked elements sapped my body. My water affinity was almost numb again.

"Wind release: Seam step."

Laying the girl gently on the doorstep, I repeated the technique and thanked a kami or two for open barbecue. Hauling back the mask I dragged the man to the opening of the hospital, "Hey, can I get some emergency first aid? Something in the booze is messing this guy up badly!"

Yeah right. If they wrote this off as exposure to hero water, I'd get a medal for BS ventures.