Hiruzen falls.
He falls, and falls, and falls until he has no idea if left is up or down is right or if perhaps for his whole life direction was merely a fantasy he clung to. Perhaps the world truly does not follow his preconceived notions of order or direction.
The only constant in his life is the visceral, cold feeling of being soaked. The water that surrounds him as he plummets is ice cold, normally refreshing after a long day of taijutsu training but nearly painful while being surrounded on all sides in a freefall.
He is almost pleasantly surprised when there is suddenly a new sensation, the feeling of a sharp crack against his body as he impacts the surface of a large body of water and is propelled deep into its depths.
It isn't a pleasant surprise, though, it is a painful explosion which overtakes him. He feels every ounce of himself break against the impact, more painful for the shivering that wracks his body as he is engulfed by the freezing depths of the water.
He can feel the waterfall beating down even now, a never-ending torrential downpour which batters the water he sinks into, and it terrifies him. How can he ever swim against it?
He can't.
Not just because it pushes him further and further into the water's depths, but because he feels himself being sucked down as well as pushed. A current, deep within the pool of water he is attempting to swim free from, is grasping greedily for him, his gait no match against the great tugging flow.
It is dark, within the waters bosom. He can see nothing, only feel the cold and nausea that is desperate to overtake him as he tumbles deeper and deeper into the current.
His chest begins to ache, a sucking emptiness that gnaws at him as he struggles to keep his lips sealed. He tries to circulate his chakra through his lungs to allow what little breath he has to last longer, but he is already spending so much just to stay afloat, to fight against the slipstream attempting to drown him. He paddles, strokes, and flails, yet it is no use. He is stuck within the water, being sucked ever deeper.
He recalls a meditation technique that Tobirama has taught him, he can't remember how long ago. To imagine you are one with the river as it rages on. Hiruzen thinks that if he's going to die, he might as well meditate to try and be at peace with his death. He stops his struggles and puts all his focus on circulating chakra to his lungs.
Meditation is difficult when he cannot breathe to anchor his thoughts, so instead he follows the flow of his chakra. It thrums through his body in time with his heartbeat, and he brings all of his attention on that to attempt to block out the painful, swirling slipstream he is caught in.
Around, around, around his body tumbles through the current. Slowly, though his throat begins to twitch and his chest begins to spasm from the lack of air, he lets his body relax. His lips held firmly shut as his body learns to flow with the water rather than against it, his mind turning into a dull, blank buzzing.
Unfortunately, there's nothing left to do but open his lips. Chakra can do many things, but it cannot substitute itself for the breath of life indefinitely
He has no idea how long this current lasts or how deep the water goes, so he resigns himself to drowning. He wonders if the Monkey King will tell the Village that he's perished? Will they weep for him?
He is suffocating now, officially. He cannot breathe, his lungs are so full of water. He feels lightheaded, but he refuses to stop circulating chakra. He will stay alive as long as he can, though who knows how long that shall be?
His eyes close lightly, the darkness of the water making it pointless to keep them open. He makes the decision to enjoy his last few moments.
It is like riding the greatest ride he has ever experienced. More exhilarating than jumping from tree to tree, he moves sinuously as the water drags him about. It has worn him away until he is nothing but chakra and movement. Back and forth, like a great dragon he twirls. He imagines himself to be as graceful and as powerful as the current, his head so light he cannot tell if he is drowning or dancing. Is the water still dragging him or does it bend to his whim? Is he the maestro who controls this song?
He sees a bright light from beyond, even behind his closed eyes, and knows that this is it. He is dying and shall reach his great beyond. Perhaps he was right, to think the monkeys lived next to the gods. They brought him to the lands beyond easily enough.
He twirls within the current, moving it or being moved by it, ever forwards to his destiny. Around, around, around he swings, until suddenly he springs forth and lets out a great heaping cough.
It's hard. It's firm. He still cannot breathe, but he coughs, and chokes, and splutters until the water comes surging out of his lungs. There is a dim glow in the cavern he is in, faint sparkling crystals lining the walls. The glitter back in the depth of the pool he was just ejected from. It is a pool of water within a cavern, connected to wherever he came from through underground tunnels, most likely. It coalesces into a whirlpool in this cavern.
Hiruzen has the oddest desire to jump back into the eddy below. He misses the feeling of freedom and grace he had embodied in a way that surprises him.
Who would have ever guessed he would miss drowning?
But he has not yet begun the trial, he doesn't think, or perhaps he has only barely begun. Either way he is eager to finish.
His body is sore all over, as though he has died and come back to life. Perhaps he has. But there is no way forward but onwards, he knows the current he came from well enough to know there is no going back.
There is a tunnel, though, leading out from this cavern deeper into the stone. He runs through the stretches that he knows may alleviate his pain and can't help but smirk at the mocking he imagines Koji might give him for "lollygagging."
A quick slap to his cheeks to give himself energy and he is on his way. The cavern is large, about twice his width and slightly more than his height. It is littered here and there with glittering gems that glisten and shine from some natural, internal source. He is fascinated by them and can't help but stare as he walks.
He doesn't notice it at first, but ever so slowly the frequency of the gems decreases. He goes from walking in almost complete illumination to dim, nearly nonexistent light. There are now patches of complete darkness in between brief snatches of dim, beautiful light, before he leaves it behind for the darkness once more. The light incline has slowly become a steep climb, and he is
It is his preoccupation with the light and the increasing angle of his ascent that keeps him from noticing the walls hemming in on him.
He notices it first when he feels the ache in his shoulders from being slightly hunched over. He extends his arms to either side and realized he can no longer extend them out all the way.
He contemplates heading back, but he knows there were no other exits in the cavern. The only way is forward.
Step by step, he focuses on his breathing and the rhythm of his movements. He is smooth and fluid, moving like the burbling creek over a rock bed. Even as his space to move slowly shrinks he moves quickly, his steps sure as he progresses.
Hiruzen stops just before he walks too far and becomes stuck. The path has become so narrow that if he walks any further, he may not be able to back himself out. He needs to move forwards, but how?
He doesn't truly have the Chakra left to be able to cast any techniques for a sustained length of time, not after how long he circulated it through his body and lungs in his attempt to not drown. It is a brute method, but perhaps he can force his way through on his physical strength? He may still have enough chakra to enhance his blows.
He is cramped, but his training hasn't been for naught. Even in the tight space his form is impeccable, long training at the cruel hands of his monkey overlords showing its value.
He breathes in and out, over and over as he settles himself into a light meditative state. He is going for strength. For power. For precision.
He lets out a strike against the wall and feels the reverberation and pain shoot through his knuckles and up his arm.
In, out, strike.
In, out, strike.
Each attack against the wall in his attempt to open a pathway is strong enough to create a rumbling, and he feels himself getting closer and closer to creating a path to freedom.
Unfortunately, in his excitement he begins to strike too quickly, moving smoothly through the motions, and the power he brings to bear creates a rumbling that grows in power. He realizes his mistake roughly around the same time that the cavern comes crumbling in around him.
Once again, suffocation. Not, this time, the suffocation of breath being held, but of a limited space to live and breathe. There is not the ever-present fear of drowning with one unheld breath, but all the little breaths that steal just a little more time, piece by piece. There's pressure, too, similar but distinctly different to the torrential pressure of the watery current that had dragged him before. Just as uncaring in the face of anything he can bring to bear against it. But rather than a pulling and pushing, a twisting and turning, this is the unending crushing of overwhelming force.
He struggles against his captivity. The rocks which weigh down upon him and hold him tightly in his grasp. He wriggles and squirms, and yet it is no use. He is well and truly stuck.
Once more he feels the depressive surety of his impending death by suffocation crushing him beneath its heel. It weighs upon him as heavy as the rockfall he is stuck beneath.
This isn't working. Hiruzen can struggle all he likes, and he's certain he'll eventually make some kind of progress, but by then he may die of old age. For certain, he won't get back to his Village in time, and will likely run out of air far before that as well.
There's time before that will come to pass, though, so he takes a moment to sit. To think. To put to use the shinobi's greatest weapon.
If many successive strikes create a cave in, and struggle won't get him out, what hope does he have?
Overwhelming force?
Can he be stronger than the mountain? Can he steel his will against the ceaseless power of gravity and the earth that surrounds him, keeping him buried, to force his way free?
He has no leverage, no positioning, and not nearly enough strength.
It comes down purely to time and dedication. Hiruzen has these in spades. The earth surrounds and stifles him, but he circulates chakra throughout his entire body. He forces himself against his surroundings in a battle of will and strength, grits his teeth and pushes.
And pushes. And pushes. And pushes.
Pain. A tense, straining pain that courses through his musculature. Tears spring to his eyes, closed as they are within his burial and his jaw locks in place. How long has he been pushing for? It must have been forever, and he desperately wants to just give in, give up, and be done.
But he refuses to admit defeat in this struggle against his underground coffin. He doesn't feel it move but that doesn't matter. All that matters is his will against the world's, and he shall not give up. He shall not give in. He shall be -
Victorious!
Light once more comes bursting into his awareness! He has overcome the mountain, has conquered the earth itself to reach his freedom!
He breathes the fresh air, finally able to take a deep breath rather than short, sharp gasps. He steps out and his gait is heavy, each footfall plodding down against the stone. He is on a plateau, somewhere, and there is a storm brewing. He sees dark thunderclouds roil above him and he can taste the ozone in the air. The hair on the back of his neck and along his forearms stand at attention.
It is difficult. His whole being wants to move slowly and steadfastly, his body and chakra feel sluggishly strong. He sees a burst of lightning in the skies above at the same time he hears a warning crack of thunder. Loud enough to be the gods themselves screaming a battle cry at him. Then it is on him before he has time to prepare, another scream of blinding light that explodes next to him, too close! Too close, he feels it crackling over his skin as he leaps away. He bounds far and wide but it makes no difference.
His body is tingling unpleasantly and he has no time to check the severity of the branching pattern that crawls across his arm because the moment his feet land solidly upon the earth he's springing away again as another arc of pure power crashes onto him. Once again he's far too slow but if he doesn't move, he'll die!
He has not survived the deep depths and the crushing darkness only to be brought down so easily as this!
He forces himself faster and faster, against the way his body wants to move. He wants to stand his ground, to fight, to play the long game and wear down his enemy. Unfortunately, his enemy does not care one whit about his desires and the storm is unrelenting. He cannot stand against the power of the lightning storm that surrounds him, so instead he dodges. He leaps. He pounces, he jumps, he moves in any way that he can to outpace the lightning strikes.
Hiruzen is getting faster, step by step and bound by bound, he knows that. He feels like he's learning to predict it, the unknowable rhythm that it strikes to. Every landing of his feet back on the ground is echoed by the thunderous boom that accompanies each lightning strike, and the lightning hits him less and less.
It still hits him, though. It strikes and sizzles against him. He feels his energy lagging. He is bone tired, now, with nothing left. Yet he must keep going.
The lightning is implacable, and he cannot dodge. Even moving faster than he ever has before, as he does now, it comes too quickly for him. He cannot dodge. He cannot stand against the storm.
In the instant between one flash and the next, it comes to him; he must move with the lightning. It follows him along the plateau, will always follow him along the plateau no matter where he moves and there is nowhere to hide. He fears this battle may never end. He cannot outrun the storm; he cannot beat the storm; it will follow him to the ends of the earth.
He must move with it. He plants one foot within the ground and digs in his heel, then plants the other one with it and crouches. He waits.
One heartbeat. Two. Three.
All he can see is blinding white light. It plows into him with a force unlike almost anything he's felt before, starting at the top of his head and traversing down to the tips of his toes. He holds his ground, standing open and exposed, on edge like a livewire. He grits his teeth as he feels like energy run around his skin. He can't take another hit like that.
He's so close, though! He almost had it, he knows it! He bends his knees into a lower stance, raises his arms above his head and he waits.
He doesn't wait long.
There's the briefest moment of a tingle along his fingertips, only noticeable because he's looking for it. Is it even there at all or is it all in his mind? Can he take the chance to not trust his instincts?
He has no time to ponder that because it's followed quickly by the crack of energy that flies its way down his arms. He's lucky he trusted in his reactions, because his arms are already in motion before it can travel the rest of the way down his body.
The lightning wants to move. It wants to leap, and arc, and crackle. It cannot, will not be still. Attempting to stand his ground against it will only cause him pain. Moving with it, keeping himself constantly in motion, however? That is a viable option.
The lightning is expelled away from him and grounds itself among the plateau. It arcs along the ground in tiny skittering bursts of light as the skies shakes with the resounding boom of thunder. He readies himself and once more moves with the lightning.
Again. Again. Again.
It once more it strikes without pause and his confidence finally returns. Quickly on the heels of his confidence is his mirth. He is constant motion as he skips around the plateau, no longer in fear but in joy. Lightning skitters and leaps over and along his body as he accepts it into him and sends it out into the air around him and earth below him
He dances with the blinding light, cackling as it crackles, his laugh subsumed by the resounding snap of thunder each time the lightning cracks open the sky.
Until his foot slips.
He is too close to the edge of the plateau and he skids slightly as he lands from a leap, arms extending to expel the lightning that circles through him with the energy of an eager puppy.
He falls.
His stomach leaps to his throat as he is suddenly weightless. He lets out a cry of fear and windmills his arms as he feels himself slipping. He is saved by a gust of wind so powerful it knocks him back onto the plateau, bumping along the rocky plane.
He hears it now and can't fathom how he hadn't heard it before. The thunder has stopped, but the dark clouds still roil above and there's still a dull roar rushing in his ears. The nature of the storm has changed; it's a windstorm, now, not a lightning storm. It swirls around the edge of the plateau in a whirlwind. A localized tornado hemming him in to the arena. The rumbling of the wind is deafening and Hiruzen falls once again into a stance to defend himself against the undefendable.
His body aches, shivering and sore and smoking all at once. He feels as though he can barely stand and yet feels the end of his Trial must be near.
It is with surprising speed that a gust of wind buffets out of the whirlwind and blows towards him. A gale three times his size, at least, which threatens to bowl him over.
He prances as he had when moving with the lightening and yet this is not a single arc; he cannot dodge. He feels the cutting wind open him up as it blows him away, slicing his skin.
He tries to hold his ground, to be firm where the wind is fluid, yet the wind will not be halted. He tries to fight against it, but there is nothing there to fight. It is ephemeral as it cuts across him, buffeting him this way and that.
He is disoriented, left askew, floundering as he is shred to pieces by the howling wind that hounds him. He feels as though he has nothing left to give, he is on the verge of admitting defeat.
The wind attacks him once again, and he allows it to hit him. It sends him spinning, spiraling away as another gust comes surging forth. He lets that one hit him as well, twirling him back again. It doesn't hit so hard or cut so deep when he lets it overtake him. With that simple though Hiruzen can't help the madness that gurgles forth from his lips in giggling fits.
The gales continue their assault and he lets go, completely, eyes closed and light on his feet as the wind turns him back and forth, this way and that. He twists and turns and tips and twirls around, around, around.
He's laughing again, high and deranged. He knows how he must sound but no one is around to hear him and so he lets his mind go along with his body. He is freedom incarnate; he is joy and air and the wind in Spring. The screeching winds are no longer angry and fierce but giddy and gay.
Hiruzen is gliding and dancing in circles and spirals, in smooth lines that cross over each other in figure eights as he slides and skates. He barely feels his feet alight upon the ground before he's up again. He alights upon the ground, gentle as a feather, and opens his eyes. The center of his plateau has once more changed. It is a bed of hot coals, glowing deeply red. It is an eerie sight, the way the coals glimmer when contrasted with the dark clouds above. Also, for the first time in what feels like forever, he is not alone.
The Monkey King stands before him, arms crossed upon his barrel chest. Koji stands upon his shoulder, a wide grin stretching across his simian face. He goes to smile at them, takes a step towards to greet his friends and allies. He wants to crow and shout about his victories against the elements, and also shout and rage against the Monkey King for pushing him off a cliff! But the set of the Exemplary Sage who Comprehends Paradise's face gives him pause.
"You have passed four of the five tests in the Trial of the Five Phases. You are to be commended." His voice rumbles deeply and there is the slightest curve to his lips. Hiruzen is buoyed to see that he has performed admirably. "There is one phase left. It shall perhaps be the most difficult. If you do not pass it, the consequences shall be dire. You are near to mastering all five of the elements. If you do not master fire, however, the elements shall lock themselves from you forever."
Hiruzen is momentarily speechless. He grits his resolve, however, and cannot help the briefest glimmer of hope and confidence.
Fire is my natural chakra element. This should not prove too difficult!
"What is the test, sensei?"
"First, you must stand on the coals." He waits until Hiruzen has done so. The coals are pleasantly warm against Hiruzen's feet as he naturally distributes his balance and feels the sweat pricking at the soles of his feet protect him. He doesn't even need to channel chakra to protect himself. Once he is centered the Ruler in the Stone Palace continues "Good. Now, don't burn."
Hiruzen's world is ablaze.
It springs up from the bed of coals beneath him and he feels a momentary, instinctual panic that every person feels when set on fire. But he is of the Land of Fire, was born to uphold the Will of Fire, and he knows the flames like an old friend. This is nothing more difficult than the chakra technique he used to light the cave for Koji when they first arrived at Blossom Berry Mountain.
He has so little chakra left, but he has enough for this. He begins circling it to his tenketsu, throughout his chakra pathways and out into the flickering red orange heat that suffuses the air around him. He feeds his chakra to it, slowly so as to not let it all be gobbled by the greedy flames.
He begins to worry when he feels the popping of embers which land on his skin and burn him. He begins to panic when, as he feeds more and more chakra to the flames, he still only smells the sizzling of his hair being singed off. His sweat is evaporating, and he is pouring as much of his small reserve of chakra as he can into the fire that surrounds him, but nothing changes.
His chakra won't burn.
He lets out a wail of frustration and fights against the impulse to leap out of the coals. He refuses to jump to safety, far from the inferno he was born to. The fire has been with him and a part of him all his life, and even though it's now betrayed him he won't run from it at the first sign of trouble.
The flames begin to smolder and burn his skin as he stands within them, weathering their harsh ministrations. They care not for his willpower, and he lets out a scream of frustration and rage. He uses it to fuel his chakra, and it comes out angry and boiling but still it won't burn.
What more does he need? It has always been so effortless, the casual grace with which his chakra has ignited. What more could the flames ask of him? Do they desire all that he has to give?
Of course they do, he realizes. The fire is all consuming and all devouring,. It burns ceaselessly, transforming everything it touches into ash and smoke. So, what more could Hiruzen give?
Everything.
He craves the comfort of his lifelong companion, the fire that burns deep within his gut, and he puts all that he has on the sacrificial alter to the inferno which surrounds him. Every ounce of chakra he possesses he channels forth, allowing the blaze to grow larger and fiercer. It sears against him but rather than scaling back he pushes forth, careless that he'll likely fall into chakra exhaustion from his foolhardy attempt.
The fire wishes to grow, and he wants to grow with it! No one can control the flames, only feed them. The fire will only cease when all has been burned at the pyre of his Will.
Just as he feels consciousness leave him, Hiruzen feels the lick of embers and the touch of the blaze flicker around him like a cool, gentle kiss.
He accepts the darkness that sweeps him up with a smile on his face. He has not lost his Will of Fire.