A.N. Hello everyone, and Happy start to a brand New Year.
To new faces i say welcome and to returning friends, welcome back. it's been a while since i posted - the wait is over and a new chapter. I needed the extended break but i should be back into the flow of things.
As always i will answer any queries at the bottom and shout outs to new faces; if i miss any its not intentional and let me know in the comments.
Also, thank you again for the reviews and critiques, i cant express my gratitude enough for the support.
Onwards to Glory.
Nothing is truly safe; nothing is absolute. The greatest walls can have the tiniest of cracks, even the most flawless of pearls, start with imperfection at its core. Through one act a grand white sheet is mired by the tar of men…
Konoha is sick; there is a rancour that runs deep into her core…to her very roots. If the leaves are bad, the tree is safe; such leaves can be cut off, a minor loss to protect the mighty tree.
However, should her roots be the cause of peril, if her rot was deep within her core; such would be devastating to the existence of the tree.
We must uncover this sickness that festers in Konoha; I pray only that we are not too late.
Kakashi crouched silently in the trees, completely invisible to everything around. A bird flew in, not two feet from him and completely missed his presence, content to sing to the morning light. To the average mind the shinobi's eye looked dead; the reality was however he was processing everything in sight at a rapid pace, and somethings that could only be inferred.
This was the third black sight he had scouted for the Hokage. The third location where his findings only seemed to add more and more to his disquiet.
It was the second place he survived an ambush.
He glanced just below, to the base of the tree. Six dead bodies, or what remained of them, he hadn't been able to do a preliminary exam before they caught ablaze suddenly. No visible identifiers, no recognisable tell.
Nothing beyond a gut feeling. An instinct that screamed Konoha black ops. Not just any Konoha black ops, but the disavowed list, a dark history in the annals a lustrous tale. A relic of a forgotten era.
Konoha ANBU: Roots
Its seemed to Kakashi those ghosts refused to stay dead; perhaps it had been wishful thinking, to believe that the organisation would simply fade away. Perhaps it had been apathy that allowed him to be swayed by Sarutobi's words, and not simply slip a dagger between Danzo's ribs early one afternoon.
In the world of the Shinobi, there is no bad or forgotten debt. All ledgers are red; in time all will be accounted.
Always, the scales are made balanced.
Kakashi felt the urge to shift but he remained defiantly still. Soon the singing bird was joined by flies; first one, then several. Slowly they hovered around blindly, before slowly but surely settling on the legendary ninja's left side. The dark blue Jonin jumper was stained almost black from congealed blood; a souvenir from one of his ambushers. It was a blow designed to kill dangerous ninjas, an attack so swift and sudden he barely had time to evade, let alone anticipate. As luck would have it, he escaped with some damage to his kidney and an unknown amount of toxins in his blood stream. From what he could tell it was designed to cripple, not kill; his targets thought to take him alive.
What a joke; thank Kami for crazy students and their penchant for dangerous cocktails.
As if in response to his thoughts his blood warmed, his skin itched.
Suddenly his hairs stood on end; lightning arced over his limbs and his eye tracked immediately to the right.
In a spark he was gone; lighting flashed and his poor victim couldn't help the grunt of pain as he was slammed hard through a tree.
Kakashi had the newcomer's throat in a vice while his chakra danced free. The placid, frozen gaze had given way to raw untamed fury.
"You jokers have no idea do you" his victim flinched at the acid tones; Kakashi only squeezed tighter, feeling the neck constrict and crack under his strain.
"Such. Busy. Little. Bees" with each word his grip tightened and the pressure of his chakra grew. Credit to the victim it never flailed about; it remained as still as possible, until it expired, without a word.
"Such utter scum" he swore out as he flung the now lifeless body away.
"You haven't a bloody clue, just who I am do you?!"
Any composure the Jonin was known for was completely lost; the combination of injuries, toxins and drugs flooding his system had taken its toll and he was running on sheer will and fury. His hair glowed with lightning chakra; the sharp blue energy burned brightly, slowly shifting to an eerie white light.
The shadows around him seemed to deepen and retreat in odd ways; too bad for them they had already been spotted.
Chakra surged violently. An afterimage flashed; a mirage in the light. A predator let loose.
A white hound; hunting in the darkness.
Shikamaru could feel the spike of irritation growing like a tumour. Ino's pointed remarks where like rusty nails to his psyche and the fact that Asuma seemed to agree however slight to her opinions was just as annoying.
He was Chunin Commander wasn't he? How many Jonins, let alone Chunins, had the security clearance that he did? Konoha was the land of the gifted true, but in terms of war assets, of strategic value, only few made that list; he was on that list.
Not everyone knows that….
He sighed again and ignored the sidelong look from his best friend Choji. The wind blew and he used his hand to cover his face.
His irritation faded as the scar in his palm came into view….
Temari…
She was a Jonin; she was actually one of the honour guards for her brother the Kazekage and a frequent diplomat from Suna. She was also likely to take over the Suna Fan Corps. She was accomplishing so much.
And he lingered….
He sighed again, this time his whole team turned to him, perplexed.
"Shikamaru? Are you still with us?" Asuma queried.
"Yes" He drawled out whilst leaning on the wall, his gaze lowered. "Chiriku's body is the only one we haven't found; Fire Temple is desolate, the monks wiped out. Nothing has been taken, the rooms are immaculate. The only signs of struggle are the gates and the courtyard."
"This was a crime of opportunity, if it's Akatsuki which I find most likely they thought their target would be here" Shikamaru cast a meaningful glance at Asuma; the Jonin's eyebrows rose and he nodded subtly, "Taking Chiriku however doesn't fully add up. It's the only thing out of place." Shikamaru trailed off.
"Not necessarily" All eyes turned to Asuma as he slowly put out his cigarette. "Everything has value; it's all about finding the right buyer."
Asuma's smiled seemed laced with lead, "Chiriku's head is valuable, you could buy a small town or hamlet with that kind of money."
Shikamaru blinked, "Fire Temple monk….but also something else?" seeing the look on Asuma's face his thoughts carried on, finding connections and possibilities. His gaze sharpened and narrowed.
"Chiriku was one of the twelve wasn't he? Just like you were too. That's why he was taken; it's also why you chose this route."
Ino and Choji both turned to their former sensei, eyes widened in surprise.
"The Twelve Guardians…they were supposed to be among the best of the best; the elite." Choji murmured, even as he looked his sensei over, remembering the stories.
Asuma shrugged, "No one is infallible. A staple truth of our world."
"True, but it takes more than the average A-Rank to even come close to a Guardian" Shikamaru countered. He shook his head as the mission seemed to take a turn. For now they had to continue the search, but he was going to stack the deck.
"We need to send a message to Konoha; they need to know what we know ASAP." Asuma turned to him, silently querying.
"Right now Akatsuki are on the blacklist, everything no matter how small or thin gets reported. The fact that someone could make it this far into Fire Country, kill off the entire temple monks, take down a former Guardian and go to ground again…"
Asuma pursed his lips and nodded slowly.
"I agree."
Shikamaru wasted little time writing a brief report and request for support. With that done they turned to Asuma again in time to see him go through several handseals.
Kuchiyose no Jutsu:
Chakra flared and smoke filled the area, before clearing and revealing a lightly armoured monkey.
"The Lost Sarutobi" The summons sniffed with a hint of disdain; the looks passed briefly as he gave a small nod, "My condolences to your loss."
Asuma merely nodded before directing attention to Shikamaru. The monkey's gaze narrowed with irritation at the Jonin, before scoffing again, then turning to the Nara.
Shikamaru filed the interaction to ponder over later, "We have a secure message to Hokage-Sama; it is imperative she alone gets this." He carefully handed the scroll over.
"Tsunade-Hime? A rare jewel is she" the monkey murmured as he took the scroll. "Worry not younglings; this message will get to her." He nodded towards them, before casting a look at Asuma. "We have stood side by side, our families; and yet now we are as strangers to each other. Worry not, there is another with whom we have placed our hope; you are of little concern to us anymore."
The monkey paused. He looked over the Jonin, as if for the last time and his words were solemn.
"Live well Asuma"
With a burst of chakra the summons was gone.
Something seemed to flash over Asuma's face, but it was gone as quickly as it arrived.
"Come on, we've lingered long enough." He said finally. His team nodded and focused. Chakras flared and they were off into the trees.
Jiraiya was a very unhappy Sannin.
Scratch that, Jiraiya was a miserable and angry Sannin.
Another location; another dead end….
The Frog Sannin shook his head as he looked over his reports; what was left of his information network was a joke; a pale imitation of what he had managed to establish. Years of effort and work, completely lost, thanks to Akatsuki.
"Well played" he murmured as he rubbed his tired eyes.
Still, not everything was a complete loss. Fortune still smiled on the Sannin, and one of his contacts managed to save some actionable intelligence. At least one of the Akatsuki agents had been revealed, with a full list of abilities and a location.
The details filled Jiraiya's heart with dread.
The location, Amegakure (Hidden Rain); the Akatsuki agent, codenamed 'Tenshi' (Angel); abilities, paper manipulation.
Jiraiya didn't want to believe…didn't want to hope or dread.
"Amegakure it is then." He sighed. He rose silently to his feet and step out back; towards a small pond. On the waters a small toad could just be made out, croaking contentedly into the air.
"Are you ready Jiraiya-Sama?" it croaked as the Sannin approached.
"Yes"
"Hnn, very well then." Jiraiya nodded again and slowly lowered himself towards the toad. The amphibian croaked and opened its mouth wide; in a few short seconds Jiraiya was gone, deep within the toad.
"We will cross the borders of Amegakure in a few moments. Those lands are treacherous, Jiraiya-Sama. I hope you know what you are doing." The toad croaked sombrely.
Chakra pulsed; the waters rippled lightly and the reflection shifted. A dark corridor seemed to form in the waters, a pale light showing the other end. The toad focused as features could barely be made out; suddenly he jerked, as landmarks came into view.
The toad sank into the waters. Once completely submerged the ripples stopped and the images changed, reflecting the midday sun.
The quiet faded; the song of birds once more.
We have made our decision. You have proven your mettle; you are worthy of our trust and our aid.
You now have a right, to call yourself kin; Uzumaki Naruto, welcome to the Clan of the Lagomorpha….welcome to Clan Mymeara.
"Welcome" Naruto murmured to himself, as he faced the mirror. His body was bare, a piece cloth from the waist down the only thing protecting his modesty. As he looked on several other mirrors were strategically placed, allowing almost total view from any direction; he had only to shift his gaze and he could see every part of his body.
As he looked on three lagomorphs orbited him. In their paws were clay containers, filled with a mix of oils, pigments and chakra. With precision each raised their brush and hovered over his skin. Chakra surged and the tips glowed; the lagomorphs eyes glowed in turn and a faint hum sounded.
The youngest priestess started first. The moment her brush made contact Naruto resisted the urge to flinch; despite the warmth from the contact, Naruto felt a chill seep into him, a cold he couldn't free himself from, and his hairs stood on end.
Her eyes continued to glow, almost unseeing and her brush strokes continued in wide, long flowing motions; the ideas conveyed broad and far reaching, encompassing many things, but with little subtlety or experience, just the verve and drive of youth.
As she slowly worked to his front the second lagomorph began. Again Naruto remained still, but the feeling of chill was much worse. A faint stirring echoed deep within him, but then subsided.
Whereas the firsts were wild and free, this one felt restrained, its motions crisp and sharp, focused on detail and function over form. The scripts were smaller but conveyed individual ideas and merits, cleaner and clearer.
As both scripts grew over him Naruto looked on as the ink and pigments seemed to come alive, shaping not only words but faint images as well. The colours seemed to spread like roots and as each marking formed it shifted with new meaning.
Suddenly both lagomorphs stopped, and it felt as if chakra itself was holding its breath. The younger looked puzzled as she took in his form again while the second older one looked deeper with experienced eyes.
"Interesting, young one" she murmured softly as she poked lightly on his skin. It rippled like water and suddenly all the seals he had written into his body came out unbidden. The younger one hummed in surprise as they appraised the work.
"Very impressive skill, for one so young" came the murmur again as several seals were traced, "You have talent, I wonder how far you can go?"
"His has proven himself, in combat and in craft" an elderly voice wheezed into life. The other two lagomorphs pulled back and turned to face their elder, one of the matriarchs that formed part of the ceremony. She slowly hobbled her way forwards and despite the stoop her gaze held Naruto's like a vice; her stare deep and penetrating and the orbs filled with a sharp and shrewd intellect.
"He is worthy of us; the first in a very long time." She continued after a moment passed, she shifted slightly and her brush came up, "Let us continue." As the others turned back to their work she faced Naruto again.
"Be brave, young shinobi. Be strong, it is almost done." Naruto didn't have time to ask what she meant, when her brush stroked over his skin.
Immediately it felt like a fire had been snuffed out of him; his body locked up and chakra surged dangerously from the three priestesses whilst fading from him entirely.
The Keeper smoked contentedly, outside the workshop and away from the priestess works. Milling around were Amon, Koga and Ranek.
Koga's sword sang through the air as once more his obsession on form took root, practicing and practicing moves that were already built into his memory.
The Keeper sighed softly at the sight.
Heritage was of deep importance to Koga, that along with nobility and station. That was why he often clashed with Amon of the 'Wild Plains'; the other lagomorph was everything he found disconcerting and to date none from the plains had gone beyond the ranks of vanguard in years. Amon was the first to achieve Archon since they began recording.
Koga was feeling threatened, something that also amused the Keeper greatly.
Amon meanwhile seemed content to sway with the wind, seeing the world from behind a veil of deep introspection. Looking him over it was difficult to see why Koga felt as he did, until one delved deeper into their history;
Koga was a veritable genius, exceptionally gifted in everything he touched. His pedigree was long and lustrous and he possessed the skill and power to back up his arrogance. He reset all the records in training and became the youngest Archon in history; still even that took 'shedding his old coats' thirty-nine times before he was appointed Archon. No Archon had ever been appointed below fifty sheds; some even considered if they had been hasty and could have waited for his fortieth shed. His growth however couldn't be denied and his appointment was honoured.
Amon was not as bright, nor as gifted. His scores never came close to Koga; still he maintained a steady average in the top tier, never quite leaving the bracket behind. Everyone had expected another vanguard veteran and to observers he would have been a welcome addition to their elite ranks.
And then Amon went through his fifth 'shed'. Everything changed.
The young warrior had to be taken to the mountain clans; only their Mistweavers could save his life. Following that the temple guardians had him sequestered and tested vigorously.
Two years later he was brought back and at the age of twenty, the title of Archon was bestowed to him. In that time his eyes had changed colours to the two distinct notes; one the brightest blue, the other the clearest green.
Amon's sudden ascension caused such a stir it threatened to derail the clans. It had taken all the Circle could muster to maintain order, more than once the Vanguards of the Wild Plains threatened to forsake their oaths.
In the end the senior Archons convened; Ranek was selected. His verdict would determine Amon's fate. The two lagomorphs disappeared, deep into wilds and the edges of the mountains.
Seasons passed, from winter to winter. On the third winter they returned unbidden. Amon was now twenty-four and had undergone a further two 'sheds' and Ranek had returned missing an eye. Neither spoke of their time away; Ranek returned to the Circle and the assembly of Archons.
Amon of the Wild Plains is Archon to Mymeara.
Let the record show; Ranek of Deep-Ground will brook no further contest borne against a brother unjust.
The assembly fell silent. Ranek was one of the senior Archons and held no small amount of weight. That he backed Amon so firmly sent ripples through the Clans, but in the end none would go against him.
So the Archons gave their support; all except Koga.
But for all that Koga was better than Amon; in form, technical work and skill; Koga could not defeat Amon. Whenever they clashed, always it came to a draw.
The Keeper felt a firm grip on his shoulder. He looked sideways to Ranek, the black coarse furred lagomorph looking intently at his fellows, each one so different, yet bound the same responsibilities.
"They are both strong; there is power within them that has not been felt in a long time Keeper" Ranek's low tones rumbled. The Keeper nodded as he looked back at the young two.
"Indeed Ranek" he intoned, "Indeed. Our future is safe for the moment. The new generation may yet not make the mistakes of the old. And once again we open ourselves to the outside world."
Ranek nodded.
"I am old…, Ranek. I am old-"
"You are still our Keeper" Ranek growled out, his fur bristling, "You have taught generations of Mymeara. You have seen more seasons and moons than any other. Even now few have matched the strength, courage and wisdom found in you."
"One day soon, that strength will fail Ranek" The Keeper said gently. His paw reached out, over Ranek's. The Archon held on with a tight grip; he ignored it and continued.
"Strength wanes, Courage falters, and even Wisdom fades Ranek. Someday soon, I may not be able to carry these burdens."
"The Circle worries" Ranek growled quietly but the Keeper stressed on "-as they should; the role of Keeper was always ceremony, there are some who say the office should be abolished-"
"They know nothing!" Ranek snapped out as he held the Keeper in a tight grip. "They do not know the value of duty and honour, loyalty and sacrifice. Years of plenty have made some fat and lazy, speaking words without thought."
"And yet all have a right to speak, how we feel should never be taken for granted, and to suppress another's view simply because it is not ours; that does not make us better." The Keeper said as he shook his head.
Ranek turned to him again, his lips in snarl but his words held frustration, pain and despair.
"I have fought for our right to exist, fought for our clans to have hope and yes, fought for all to speak. But speaker, what good is it if everyone speaks and yet wounds are all that are left? To speak is to become responsible; but lately with so many voices clamouring on their rights, it is hard to find the malice in the shadows, those who simply speak of their own spite and those who seek their own ends."
The speaker looked on silent, choosing to abstain. Ranek growled again in frustration and his paws clenched tight until they bled.
"Nothing is set in stone Ranek, for the time being I will stand, as I always have and keep the heart of our people."
Ranek nodded; his paw found his chest with a firm thud as he dropped a knee.
"As I swore to you moons before, I will stand at your side. No force in the great boroughs or the wondering mists will break our bond. Even in the depths of the embrace I will seek you out and tear apart any who would stand in my way."
The Keeper looked on with fond amusement. His paw reached out and clasped Ranek's shoulder; the Archon grasped it in a firm grip, their loyalty unwavering.
"My grandfather will not have you has his sole defender. That you usurped my rightful place is bad enough, honour and duty will not allow me to stand aside." Both Mymearans turned to Koga. Ever the cultured one, his gaze though was a storm of devotion and warrior pride. A brown paw descended on Koga shoulders; the white furred Archon glanced sideways, but made no move to remove it.
"We will stand with you Keeper." Amon's voice held a subtle echo, he was still lost in the throes of chakra, but each syllable hit with binding force. "We will help you bear this burden; so long as it is yours to bear."
Koga nodded and turned to his grandfather and Ranek. Ranek looked his former pupils and nodded in approval.
The Keeper sighed, but a soft smile graced his lips.
Amon blinked suddenly; the mood was lost. His fur bristled and he turned to the workshop. The others saw his reaction and followed suit, tense.
Moments later a wave of chakra rushed through them all.
"Matriarch..." the youngest priestess mumbled as she feverishly worked; whilst the overwhelming chakra seemed to have faded it was merely the calm before the storm.
No, it was the pause between storms, where one had no choice but to hang tight and ride out the tide.
"Do not stop" The Matriarch urged soothingly, even as she struggled against the oppressive chakra.
And to think his strength alone contains such force of will behind it. If the Nine-tails awakens I fear to think….
The Matriarch looked on with apprehension as the pressure continued to build. Fuinjutsu was a delicate thing; as powerful as it could be there was a reason many shied away from it.
The consequences of badly made seals or an error in writing the seal could have a varied array of consequences; the spectrum was broad and it was often a dice game to determine what ills could befall practitioners.
At best, minor aches and pains for the rest of one's natural life, either when using the seal or even trying to channel chakra.
At worst…..death was the least of these.
The three priestess carried on diligently, if frantic. No mistake could be afforded but they didn't have the luxury of dawdling either, not with the amount of chakra growing in the air, soon it would attract more scrutiny than it was worth.
The Matriarch tensed as the chakra tinted wild on the edge of her sense; a flash of violent red in a sea of blue. A sensation brushed against her chakra, a formidable mind behind the energy, grasping, trying to understand her intentions, and mocking, whether it would allow them to continue or not.
"Matriarch…" the youngest whimpered as she tried very hard to remain focused. Even the matron was showing visible signs of distress so for the young maiden it was probably excruciating.
The Matriarch pulsed her chakra, feeding her intent through her very being.
…..You believe he is worthy?
You are either blind, or a fool.
His kind can never be worthy.
The force pulled away and much of the pressure subsided. The Matriarch sent a feeling of gratitude but received nothing in return. Her companions breathed with no little sign of relief as they carried on the last stages of their work.
Once all three were done they stepped backwards; the air excited with energy from the seal writing. As one their paws came together.
Fuinjutsu: Activate!
Naruto's body jerked and he gave a soundless scream. Chakra burst free from him in a near endless wave. Glass shattered and wood cracked. Metal groaned and twisted from the pressure. A ghost of a roar travelled for miles around.
As quickly as the chakra came it dissipated, leaving behind a void. All three priestess appeared serene, but on closer inspection they shook like leaves. The Matriarch sagged slightly, only to be caught in a firm and gentle embrace.
Tsunade bit her lip with frustration.
A pair of dice sat innocently before her; their numbers spelt gloom.
Six straight tosses, six straight wins.
Her eye twitched. She glanced worriedly at the report from Team Asuma. The Nara boy's intuition couldn't be easily dismissed, and if Akatsuki was their target or opponent, then they needed to stack the deck.
Also, she hadn't heard from Kakashi in sometime. The ANBU Commander could no longer pick up his trail. And finally Jiraiya too had gone of radar.
All in all she had many things to worry about; too many variables outside her control.
She picked up the dice and rolled again.
They clattered innocently over the table, slowly coming to a stop….
Please, let my luck run out.
Tsunade's eyes widened. Her heart skipped a beat; a wave of chakra surged through the village, sending sensors into a frenzy, ninjas into alert, and civilians into shock.
She stood abruptly and glanced out the window.
"Naruto."
A.N. Another one down, this one is a bit all over the place but it was a long time coming.
Also welcome to the club; Im-Bored-And-Gay, Mr Ursine, Kyok, armydancer01.
and to regular reviewers; s.k.f.f.f, Jojo, Seta88 and others - you guys are the best.
I'll start answering from the next post, until then, stay awesome.
