Happy New Year! :D

--Jonohex


Chuuya

Beads of sweat trickled down the pudgy, black-haired, Wave Country boy's pink, straining face as he squatted in horse-stance, making sure to keep his back straight, chest up, heels out, legs shoulder-width apart, knees bent at right angles and thighs parallel to the ground. The ninja aspirant's quaking arms were held out straight from his shoulders; fingers clasped tightly around the rims of heavy jars filled partway with sand, just as Haku-sensei had instructed.

For the twentieth time in as many seconds Chuuya Tezuka shot an imploring look toward the little hourglass, a ten-minute timer that stood close by, and was again distressed at its report.

Not EVEN half way?! he shrieked inwardly. Awwwwww!

The surrounding forest, indifferent to the Demon's Apprentice's apprentice's self-imposed suffering and the pain that seared his upper thighs and shoulders, mocked with its peace, musical chirps of birdsong and murmuring breeze.

With a tortured groan, determined to 'ninja-up' and tough out at least another two minutes, the youngest Tezuka sucked in a breath but then looked up and blinked in amazement at the surpassingly strange sight that unfolded now before him – for into the clearing had just wandered…Chuuya's own self!

The ten-year-old's ebon eyes popped wide and his mouth fell open. The boy staggered out of his stance and almost fell over as his training jars slipped from his hands, spilling sand over the forest's carpet of needles and leaves.

"What the --?" the boy mumbled in a haunted tone, staring at himself in disbelief.

Hesitantly, Chuuya approached the strange new Chuuya then slowly made his way around him. Arriving full-circle, the two identical boys met eye-to-eye like mirror images, each expressing the same dumb-struck look until a telling, clever smile flashed over the face of the second.

The first goggled in astonishment. "Inari?!" he squeaked. "Holy sh-t! You did it!"

"I KNOW!" pealed the second who almost collapsed in a fit if giggles.

"That -- that's just…crazy!" stammered Chuuya, utterly at a loss, his hands crossing over the top of his round, black-haired head as if it might come off. "Is that really what I look like?"

With a burst of dispersing chakra, the imposter turned back into Inari -- floppy white hat, teal overalls and all -- who beamed with pride. "I've been working on it hard since Haku-sensei taught us, and Naruto gave me some tips too."

Chuuya gave his leaner teammate an amazed grin. "You gotta help me," he sputtered. "I don't think I'm even close to being able to do the Transformation Jutsu."

The younger boy smiled magnanimously. "Sure I'll help you! It's really not that hard once you get used to how it's supposed to feel. You just got to balance the chakra right." Inari canted an eyebrow. "But YOU gotta help ME with Cannon Fist."


Haku

The curving hallways and spacious day-lit chambers still seemed oddly blank and maze-like without paint on the walls, or any wood or carpet on the bare concrete floors. Above, only the metal grids for what would soon support suspended ceilings of wood, compressed mineral fiber or perforated metal were partially in place along with dangling light fixtures still in protective wrappings, supply diffusers and return grills. Between it and the structural floor deck passed insulated ductwork along with cable-carrying raceways which would distribute conditioned air and electrical power throughout the new building.

This strange world, rarely seen, was populated exclusively by men and women in hardhats, goggles, hard-soled boots and stained clothes who tended to converse in patois borrowed from half a dozen different languages. Some walked on stilts strapped to their legs – all the better to work on things up high, while some wore pads on their knees and elbows – better to concentrate on things down low.

In such a place as this the delicate-looking, girlish-faced ninja in militant, mist-garrison fatigues, and the old woman in a flowing shawl of a color deeper and bluer than sapphire kinda stood out.

Waiting patiently while Lady Chinami Inoue discussed some details with the job superintendent, Haku tried not to dwell on the two clan patriarchs he'd met the previous evening for the first and undoubtedly last time, Tohma and Noriyasu, and their doomed cause.

The young shinobi frowned sadly, let out a breath then let his grey eyes fall to a nearby work table, a simple plywood sheet resting on sawhorses, and then the creased, weathered and stained set of architectural plans that sat atop it along with an assortment of coffee cups, soda cans, food wrappers, pencils, scales, measuring tapes, forgotten tools and a cracked radio gargling some jingly and repetitive too-happy pop song.

Haku had seen many such sets of plans over the last year, these detailed to-scale drawings and diagrams. Tazuna's home and office were strewn with them; they lay stacked on every available surface or rolled up and piled high like a winter's worth of fireplace logs.

This one was slightly unusual in that the cover sheet bore no title, just "Building #7", and the rooms labeled in similar generic fashion: "Room 102, Room 103", and so on.


Walking slowly on their way back to the docks where Inoue's ship was moored, the Councilor from Kirigakure asked: "Is something on your mind, Mr. Okame? You seem so terribly serious today and you've hardly said a word."

With a pained expression, Haku's face sank. "I'm sorry I haven't been very good company, Lady Inoue," the raven-haired teenager explained. "Especially since that's why you selected me as your guide. It's just…a bad memory."

The old woman nodded thoughtfully. "It's easy for me to forget that you don't have to be very old to have those." Her cloudy eyes rose toward him. "Being that we haven't known each other very long I won't ask that you confide in me, but you might consider your teammate, Orimi, if it's something that bothers you a lot. She's the salt of the earth, you know, well-experienced and long past due for the jonin trials."

Haku looked back at her, both at her advice and her peculiar reference to Orimi as his teammate. "Really? I didn't know that. But she always saying she's far too busy with her duties as magistrate to take on another challenge."

"Oh, she's put it off for a good while," said Inoue coyly, "which is exactly how I know she's ready. Not that I blame her for not wanting to be a jonin just now with the Mizukage the way he is, and his purges of the senior ranks following the assassination attempt still fresh in everyone's mind."

Falling into an uncomfortable silence for a time, remembering maybe that Orimi's sensei, Toru Yamashite, too had been a victim, the woman gathered herself before continuing in a more hopeful tenor: "Still, tomorrow is another day and Kirigakure will need its shinobi to ascend to whatever role will carry us forward, now more than ever.

"Anyway," she pivoted, returning to original subject and touching Haku lightly on his arm, "in the end you'll have to find some way of coming to grips with whatever's bothering you. In the meantime, perhaps I can provide some distraction – do you know yet what you'd like to ask for your last question? I can't help but be interested."

The ninja sucked in his thin lips. He'd been hoping she'd forgotten because the question foremost on his mind was not one that was very prudent to ask.

"Lady Inoue," the teenager asked anyway, knowing he tempted fate. "The massacre of Water Country's blood-gifted clans…was it unavoidable; was it really necessary?"

The councilwoman raised an ashen eyebrow, a reaction much more mild, thankfully, than Haku had feared. "'Necessary'," she repeated as if the word carried an indistinct taste. "Such a moldable term -- a tool that fits any hand. I think that would depend on who you ask. Since you asked me, and I did promise to answer to the best of my knowledge, then I say no. I say, rather, that it was a matter of convenience instead.

"The thing you should understand is that after the civil wars, Water Country was divided as never before and on the verge of collapsing into a menagerie of feudal territories as it had been in the distant past -- with every island a nation unto itself. To put it plainly, the fastest way to get people to set aside their differences, even ones who've been at each others' throats for years, is to unite them against a common enemy."

Haku grimaced slightly. "I see," he replied in an imitation of detachment.

"Well, if uniting people is your aim, one could make a broader argument about the essential oneness of humanity and appeal to the gentler, nobler aspects of the human character, but that's a long, LONG hard road." The old kunoichi chuckled – an expression of sad experience rather than humor. "Worse still, you must ask those you're appealing to to exercise self-discipline and self-sacrifice which is not very practical when you're trying to get things done quickly. No, it's far better to rely on peoples' fears."

The younger shinobi looked off, not wanting her to see the disgust play over his face. Being that HE had a kekkei-genkai himself and that his clan, the Aramata, had been one of those slaughtered made difficult even the appearance of objectivity.

Along the Wave Country byways, shops, vendors and eateries were just starting to open up again after the mid-day break. Proprietors and employees were out sweeping the walks and squeegee-ing the windows. Large, new buildings rose up all around and it no longer started either of the two when the immense shadows cast by girders or wall panels flashed past as tower cranes carried them high through the air.

"So the simplest solution," summarized Haku over the sounds of the street, "was to place the blame for years of carnage, poverty and famine at the feet of the clans: their lives in trade for alliances founded on false fears."

Inoue shrugged world-wearily. "I can tell you're disappointed – the truth has a way of doing that. Maybe I'm being just a little self-righteous in my old age, even a bit cruel tearing apart these fairytales called history that we're all used to. But it bears remembering that nations are built on myths, not truths." When the woman turned toward her escort, she smiled. "I see the future in your young face, Constable, and I'd hate to send you into that unmapped world without knowing where it came from and how it got to be the way it is.

"As for the clans, though they were not wholly to blame, they were far from innocent. Their supra-natural abilities made them feared and highly-priced, and many of their members took advantage to profit as mercenaries – joining one side then another, their loyalties veering back and forth depending on who was paying the most.

"The clans were hardly the cause for the civil wars and bore little of the responsibly for all the terrible things that happened during them, but they did end up becoming a very visible and memorable part of it, what, with their abilities being what they are.

"Tell me, Hiroo," Inoue vectored cleverly as she made a point, "have you ever faced a ninja who possessed a kekkei-genkai?"

The constable gave her a look. "Yes," he answered simply, remembering Tensai and Sasuke.

"Really?" She seemed slightly surprised. "Which one?"

"He was a Kaguya."

"Indeed!" the councilwoman piped, pleased and impressed. "You must be capable AND lucky. And how was it, fighting him? How did it feel?"

Haku thought about it for a moment, remembering the raving, shaggy-haired monster whose razor bones had come alive to slash and tear at his body. "Disconcerting," he had to admit.

"And why do you think that is?" asked Inoue in an instructive tone. "Surely you've had to contend with ninja armed with jutsu that were no less terrible then the Kaguya's shikotsumyaku?"

Whether the woman had lead him or if he'd found his own way, Haku still didn't like where this conversation was bound to end. And he had only himself to blame, really – asking a question like that.

"Because," the former Demon's Apprentice answered, frowning, "his abilities were a natural extension of himself, not like jutsu which, in theory, anyone with a similar elemental nature could learn." Haku worried his lips. "So you're saying it's that essential genetic difference that made the fiction of their responsibility for the civil wars so believable and turned those five clans into such easy scapegoats."

The councilwoman nodded. "That's about it," she confirmed. "You're a quick study." The councilor spared him a sympathetic smile. "Do you still think Kirigakure's history is so 'mysterious'? But don't be too dismissive. Those clans' blood-gifts make them truly frightening even among ninja – the Nikai, with their control over water; the Serizawa and their far-sight; the hyoton of the Aramata, the Kaguya's shikotsumyaku and, of course, the Tsujita and their ability to project disease."

Haku startled a little at that last one. Disease? The word landed with a thud in his mind.

"Maybe in the fullness of time, as the saying goes," Inoue continued philosophically, "those five clans will be remembered, revered even for their sacrifice for the greater good. Their deaths helped bring the civil wars to an end after all, and kept Water Country from falling further into ruin. Brave shinobi have died for much less, you know."


Lady Chinami Inoue, unlike all the times before where she'd dismissed Haku at the end of the day at the entrance to the gangway to her ship, instead ushered the young ninja aboard.

The significance of this gesture was not lost on him. It marked a certain level of trust which was a bit hard for the shinobi to accept under the circumstances. He was after all not a mist-ninja and, in plain fact, a criminal hiding under a fraudulent identity; notorious, even if his career hunkered in the deeper, darker shadow of his infamous master.

There was, in addition, a certain element of danger too in this close association with the councilwoman. For his last five months here in Wave Country, a fair distance from the Hidden Mist Village, with the Magistrate on his side and all of the other mist-shinobi assigned to the garrison basically incurious, Haku could at least allow himself the false sense of security.

"Welcome aboard The Sophae, Constable Okame," Inoue announced with arms outspread as a pair of chunin guards bowed then stepped aside for them.

Passing onto the frigate's textured, non-slip decks, Haku canted his eyes toward the grey, steel-hulled upper decks, bridge and signal house, then along the pipe-railings where shinobi stood at intervals like palace guards, staring vigilantly outward. Though they varied one to another, being tall or short, thin or thick, male or female, younger or older, their singular uniforms of midnight blue, with kiri-ninja hitai-ate worked into close-fitting caps, the matching expressions of tireless concentration and disquieting auras made them seem more alike than not.

Inoue took note of the teenager's interest. "My Nephilim Guard," she intoned meaningfully then gave a proud, cocksure smile. "In a world abounding with dangers, on this ship you may rest assured – no power can reach you.

"Come on," the kunoichi beckoned with an eager grin and tilt of her head, "let me show you around. I'll take you on the cheap tour."

Inoue started at the top where her vessel's flying bridge housed an aerie for messenger hawks and ospreys, along with an array of searchlights, shuttered signal lights, flare tubes, and the best short-range radio equipment allowed by treaty. In just the few minutes Haku was there, looking portside over the Wave Country docks then starboard towards the distant shores of Fire Country, three birds were set loose while another two arrived.

Inoue and Haku ended up following the uniformed shinobi who carried the incoming messages past the bridge house, navigation and map rooms, down below decks to a cryptography suite where a team of twelve sat in two rows at long, caroled tables busily coding and decoding communications.

Passing then past dormitories, staterooms, armories, kitchen and mess hall, Inoue lead Haku to a secure level, past guards who cranked open a heavy steel, watertight door, and the pair entered a broad but low-ceilinged chamber lined with folios secured in a high-density file storage system. Racks of shelving were layered three-deep, with one in front of another on rails so that the first and second rows could be slid aside to access the ones behind.

Dominating the middle of the room, atop a long, wide table bolted to the floor, sat a startlingly elaborate scale model of Wave Country as it would be with all the construction complete. The terrain was modeled of painted plaster. New buildings were crisp shapes crafted in great detail using white museum board while existing structures were drab grey cardstock. The workmanship was impeccable and captured almost the entire island in wondrous miniature.

To the three secretarial-types filing away documents, Inoue gestured, upon which they promptly packed up their belongings and left.

Haku waited attentively, his curious, smoky eyes taking note that all the room's corners were rounded. Near where the walls intersected, spinning talismans hung from the steel ceiling – written spells that would remain in effect as long as the air moved over them. At even increments nozzles hung down.

"Fire sprinklers," Inoue explained.

"Ah, in case of fire."

"No, no, they spout actual fire along with oxygen. It'd be a real pickle if anyone unauthorized penetrated this room. So those jets can reduce its entire contents to ashes in seconds just in case.

"So what do you think of the ship?" asked Inoue innocuously with the flash of a smile before Haku had a chance to react.

"Um, a fine vessel," he ventured distractedly, eyes still focused on the nozzles just above, "your mobile command center, I take it?"

"Exactly right; I do appreciate people who I don't have to explain every little thing to.

"Now then, Mr. Okame," said Inoue with a crisp air of authority overtaking her otherwise folksy voice as she pulled up a chair at the corner of the table then sat. "I hope you won't think ill of me for this but, as much as I do enjoy your company, I have an ulterior motive for inviting you here into the most secure room on the ship." She fixed him with a look. "I would like to ask you a few questions, Hiroo, in the neighborhood of three if not exactly, and that you answer to the very best of your knowledge."

Haku's mind went to work as he sat at her left. Is this why she offered to answer MY questions? he couldn't help but wonder now, and if this conversation was the real reason she'd insisted on his being her escort in the first place; not his looks.

"Of course, Lady Inoue," answered the ninja dutifully though with trepidation. "After all, it's only fair."

The woman tried to set him at ease with a hasty grin but her eyes were still quite serious. "Oh, don't worry, I assure you -- no personal questions," she explained then gestured at the files surrounding them. "It's just that, I read your mission summary about a return of some 'stolen materials' to the Village Hidden in the Leaves – quite a 'page-turner'. And they really let you just walk right in?"

The teenager shrugged at how that sounded. "It was no great matter. I went alone. They realized right away that I was no threat."

"You…you approached them from a position of – of weakness?" Inoue marveled, completely flabbergasted, chuckled then shook her head. "I really do appreciate your fresh perspective. Something like that would never have occurred to me, or anyone I know for that matter. And I'm sure the Leaf didn't know at all what to make of you.

"But I'm terribly curious; you actually met with their new Hokage." The woman leaned back. "What did you think of Lady Tsunade?"

"Well, she's quite strong," Haku began, slowly at first, thinking the elder ninja's question perfectly understandable, but unsure of where to begin, "and her knowledge of medical jutsu is --."

"I meant more her personality," the councilwoman broke in delicately. "I already have all the basic background information on her from my other intelligence assets."

"Oh…uh, I would say she's very confident, sincere, surprising straightforward and very dedicated to protecting her village as her grandfather, the Second Hokage did."

Haku thought she might find that detail interesting if nothing else, but the old mist-kunoichi didn't seem to. Instead, Inoue crossed her arms and looked upward in consideration. "Impulsive?"

The constable shook his head. "From what I gathered, Lady Tsunade is quite expressive in showing her emotions, but I wouldn't go so far as to call her rash. She may react on impulse but I believe her tendency is to be more reserved in her decisions."

Closing pale eyes, the woman continued without segue: "Now, the Leaf Village was attacked by the Sand and Sound Villages six months ago. How well would you say they've recovered?"

"They were still rebuilding some of the outer precincts and neighborhoods and just finishing the perimeter wall when I was there. They suffered moderate damage but they're quite resilient and are undoubtedly fully restored by now."

"And their numbers: did you note any significant depletion of their ranks?"

Haku thought for a moment of how to answer. Though he held no allegiance to the Hidden Leaf Village per se, a number of people he considered friends lived there: Sakura and Kakashi, Rock Lee, Kiba and Akamaru, Hinata, Shino and Naruto of course! The thought that anything he might say here could imperil them gave him a chill. But he did have to give this woman an answer.

"I'm sorry, Lady Inoue, military analysis is not my strong suit," he offered humbly. "But from the general atmosphere I took it that the loss of life was quite heavy. Despite that, I observed that the Leaf still possesses a healthy number of senior jonin, ANBU contingents as well as ninja regulars. The ones I encountered were fiercely loyal to their village and would, I came to understand, be highly motivated in its defense."

The old woman nodded. Clearly Haku's report, slanted as it was in Konoha's favor, was not unexpected and she took no issue with his findings much to his relief.

"In your judgment then," Inoue asked finally, "and just from what you saw, would you say that they have enough forces on hand for both attack AND defense? Do you think the Leaf Village able to launch an offensive, or conduct of any sort of large-scale campaign beyond the borders of Fire Country?"

The question surprised Haku. "An offensive?" he muttered. "No ma'am. I do not think they are capable of such an undertaking or that, in committing their shinobi, they would risk leaving themselves unprotected."

"Especially after having been attacked themselves so recently," Inoue added, apparently satisfied. "That's fine, Constable," said she with a smile then patted his arm. "See, that wasn't so bad, now was it."

A metallic rap at the door drew Inoue's attention. She rose, giving Haku an apologetic nod, as the door unsealed then swung open. The shinobi waiting outside bowed then handed her a brief, written message.

"I'd better see about this," she said with a pensive frown as if to herself then turned toward Haku. "You don't mind waiting here a moment, do you? I shouldn't be delayed too long."

The young shinobi rose and bowed. "Not at all, Lady Inoue," he offered in reply, "you must have countless important matters to attend to."

After she'd gone and the other mist-ninja had shut the door, Haku heard it lock and seal. The teenager stood then in tense silence, eyes flickering worriedly over those 'fire sprinklers'. After a few moments though the effect wore off and he went, drawn by curiosity, to inspect the room's racks of folios.

Within were thoroughly cross-indexed personnel records of every ninja the Mist Village had ever produced, intelligence about the other hidden villages and agents in their employ, after-action mission reports dating back to the time of the First Mizukage and dossiers on every feudal lord on the continent, their families and associates…just for starters.

Haku gaped and flinched back. Where he was standing right now was a treasure-trove of information; a place any ninja from any hidden village would sacrifice any-one or any-thing to stand. What Lady Inoue had compiled here aboard her flagship was nothing less than an identical copy of all the information stored in labyrinthine vaults beneath Kirigakure's most heavily-guarded citadel.

The teenager blinked; his breath racing.

At once, betraying his young age, he was seized by the unimaginative temptation to look himself up to see what the Mist Village knew about him and to find out for certain if they believed him dead. He wanted to look up his master, Zabuza, to see what they knew about him, and Naruto too. Did the Mist know he harbored the Kyuubi?

Stop! Haku commanded himself before he'd even started. Rummaging through these documents was a very, very poor idea. Besides, being left alone here could just be a trick or trap of some kind.

Having thought it through a moment, there was still one thing for certain he did wish to look up no matter what the danger -- one with nothing to do with him personally, his past or his yellow-haired friend from the Leaf Village. There was something Inoue had mentioned that bore a little examination.

In a few moments, Haku's finger brushed across a page then stopped at a passage attributed to a top official in the court of the First Mizukage:

'The Tsujita clan is one of five that possess a Kekkei Genkai in Kirigakure. Apparently, they have a natural immunity to all diseases; instead their bodies store them. No outsider knows all the details but apparently they can pass on diseases to a target by mere touch -- ideal for quiet assassinations. After all there would be no poison to test for, no accident to investigate. Perfect if one didn't want questions asked. The side effect appears to be a constant cold which marks every potential user in the clan."

Thinking back to Noriyasu in the clearing last night, Haku remembered quite vividly that the man suffered much more than a common cold: much, MUCH more. The Tsujita patriarch was pushing his kekkei-genkai, his body and his chakra to the very limit, not just to kill one man --.

"But an entire village," the teenager murmured. "A plague."

Three years, since the coup de etat', that's how long Tohma said they'd been planning. That was plenty of time for a vengeful ninja patriarch with a blood-gift like Noriyasu's to travel from place to place, searching out the hospitals, frontier clinics and all the squalid corners of both civilization and wilderness for the deadliest, most incurable and communicable strains. Using his own body as both warehouse and laboratory, could Lord Tsujita not combine within himself the terrible treasures he'd found, breeding them, honing them in preparation to unleash --.

Heaven and Earth! thought Haku, paling. I was wrong, so wrong, to take them for fools. They could really do it. They could really kill every living soul in the Hidden Mist Village!

A rattle sounded at the door. The bolts slid free and its crank wheel started to spin. Cursing himself for lingering there so long, Haku hurriedly returned the folio to its proper place then sat just as the watertight gaskets released and the door swung open.

Haku looked up from his apparent appreciation of the magnificent model of Wave Country as a gruff-looking mist-ninja entered.

The stranger, tall, thick-limbed and sure of movement, stepped slowly across the steel threshold then stopped. Swarthy and battle-scarred, the mahogany features of his sandpaper face darkened to black where it met the prickly growth of three-day old beard. Eyes like a moray eel's, but with one dark as obsidian while the other was bone white, regarded the teenager cruelly for a moment before the newcomer's expression lifted into an overtly facile smile.

As he strolled deeper into the room, three more ninja followed in behind him without fanfare, sealed the door, and took positions around the puzzled, seated teenager, with one at his left and right and one immediately behind.

Haku swallowed uncomfortably then restrained his reaction as swords flashed. Three naked razors were now at his neck, pinning it tight within a triangle of sharp steel.

The dark-faced ninja before him blinked casually, still with that smile.

"Something I said?" offered Haku innocently.

At length, the man's arm drifted straight toward him; at the end, a pointed finger.

"Your face," he began in a rumbling tone then stopped as if he was going to leave it at that. "It's a very distinctive sort of face, like a pretty…little…girl's; pretty enough for Lady Inoue to fall in love with and not one anyone would forget even if they saw it just one time."

Haku's eyes swiveled left and right for he dared not move his head; those three blades were pressed against his skin tight enough for him to feel the keenness of their honed edges.

"And yet," the dark and pale-eyed shinobi continued in a knowing, prosecutorial tone, "no one here on this ship or in your own Wave Country garrison can remember ever seeing you before. It's a curious thing, especially when we all trained at the same Martial School in Kirigakure."

Sucking in his lips, Haku replied, trying to sound neither cowed nor combative: "I try to keep a low profile."

The man's smile widened with deeper malice, showing teeth. "That may be so, 'Constable Hiroo Okame'. But whenever I ask, no one can remember hearing your name before either. So I said to myself – that's a very strange thing."

With that, the ninja rose and went to the folios, searching out a particular volume. "My name is Pradesh, the Lady Councilor's head of security. We would have crossed paths much earlier had she not kept me busy elsewhere. But it's funny how things work out – that Lady Inoue would lead you here, to this room, where it is such a simple thing for me to find out if you are who you say."

Haku's eyes narrowed. This is bad, he thought gravely. If I so much as twitch, these ninja will easily cut my head off.

Really there was only one way out of this – his kekkei-genkai, which didn't necessarily require a hand-sign. But even if he did kill all four ninja instantly, and it would have to be instantly, by flash-freezing them or filling the room with ice lances, he'd still have to get off this ship somehow. And then there were those flame jets overhead. Who knows what might set them off?!

Pradesh pulled out a folio and spread it open on the table. "Ogamushi," he read the name listed aloud in a slow, sure, dramatic voice, "Ohara…Oka--."

The ninja's lips froze there for a moment as his eyes scanned the page then looked up at Haku. Gritting his teeth, the dark-skinned ninja leaped to fetch another volume, tore it open and consulted it. At length, he paused again and gave his compatriots a subtle shake of his head whereupon the blades dropped away from Haku's neck.

"My apologies, sub-lieutenant," grumbled Pradesh with a subdued air of defeat in his voice. "I didn't realize that the Akita had taken you on as his personal disciple."

Haku sat frozen for a few moments then blinked. Neither did I! was his first thought.

"I…I understand you were doing your duty," the young constable improvised in a cool tone that masked his mystification as he rubbed his slender, alabaster throat with relief, "still you should have checked before confronting me like this."

Rising, unwilling to let his guard down just yet, the teenager asked, "May I see?"

Pradesh nodded at once, his resolve clearly shaken, and turned the book towards him.

Haku noted his pseudonym 'Okame, Hiroo' typed there, right beside his own, real face, front and profile, dentil records and fingerprints along with basic information, date of birth, blood type, height and weight listed below. Though the quantity of accurate information was frightening and impressive, the fictional parts were no less so. Apparently, he HAD, at a very young age, attended the Mist's Martial School at least briefly, been inspected by its doctors and found to be in acceptable health if a little underweight. The ANBU Pack-Leader, Toru Yamashite, had then recruited him, almost immediately after matriculation, as a member of his team and undertook all of Hiroo's training personally.

Hiroo had then gone on to establish an impressive, but not suspiciously unblemished, service record.

As forgeries went, this was nothing less than a masterpiece, having all the right names, dates and official seals. The other volume Pradesh had consulted contained Toru's file, in which Hiroo was also named and indexed as being his disciple student.

I see now why Lady Inoue said some of the things she said, Haku realized, and why she has such faith in me. She read this file already and didn't realize it was a fake.

Again the door's crank-wheel spun. The door opened and in stepped Yukimasa Sakurai, one of the ANBU who'd hunted Haku five months ago, with Lady Inoue right behind him. The teenager's eyes widened as he cursed his luck but --.

"Hiroo!" the ninja greeted in an amiable tone, his mild features smiling. "I wondered when I was going to get to see you again."

Pradesh's head spun like an owl's. "'Masa, do you know him?"

"Sure, we were on Yamashite's team together." The ninja looked back and forth between the head of security and Haku. "Everything ok?"

"Of course," said Haku at which Pradesh nodded with puzzled, unstated gratitude.

Lady Inoue clasped her hands in beatific appreciation. "Ah, how wonderful to see everyone getting acquainted, or RE-acquainted as the case may be." The councilor looked toward the young ninja. "Hiroo, I had intended to show you more of the ship but I'm afraid something's come up. Why don't I leave you with Yukimasa then," she said with a kind, grand-motherly sort of smile. "I'm sure you two have lots of catching up to do."


Haku followed his unlikely rescuer through the ships narrow corridors, up to the deck then down the gangway. Only when they'd arrived on the dock, well out of earshot from anyone on the ship did the one-time Demon's Apprentice try to speak. "Tha --."

"Don't!" the former ANBU interrupted sharply, turning toward Haku with an agitated glare, "don't thank me." Yukimasa grunted then shook his head, his lips pressed tightly together. "I SHOULD have let Pradesh cut you to pieces and feed you to the fish. By all rights your powdered remains should be in a jar in Kirigakure no Sato already."

Yukimasa's face, normally phlegmatic, screwed into a deeply disturbed frown as he started to pace.

Haku waited, patient and curious. If everything was indeed as it appeared, the young ninja could hardly blame his former hunter for being unhappy at this strange turn of events. The last time the black-haired teenager had seen 'Masa, as his familiars called him, was during the mist-ANBU team's all-out assault on Juri's compound for which Haku had declined to stay. Their meeting before that had been even less sociable.

"I don't get it," snapped Yukimasa, "you're like a damn cockroach -- nothing KILLS you! Momochi never killed you. In eight years you'd think he might have at least by accident. Copycat Kakashi couldn't kill you, WE couldn't kill you, Juri Chono couldn't kill you. And I don't know WHAT the f-ck happened on that Naruto Bridge that made Toru not kill you, but he didn't have any right not to whatever it was!

"Shoot!" he continued tensely," you walked right into the Hidden Leaf Village and THEY didn't kill you. Just what the hell is it with you?"

Haku's face twitched with a guilty, fleeting smile. "Just lucky, I guess."

"Oh, you have NO idea!"

"But why complain to me?" the constable riposted disarmingly. "One of the reasons I AM still alive is that someone very clever, skilled, and detail-oriented forged my identity; someone on Lady Inoue's staff with unlimited access to the records vault. If you want to blame someone," he looked up meaningfully, "blame yourself."

The ANBU straightened. "I do. I definitely do."

"Then…why?"

"Orimi," the mist-ninja explained then let out a frustrated breath. "I can't imagine why or how, but somehow, you got her to be on your side. Who'd have thought – reliable, dependable Orimi getting mixed up with you; hiding you, Haku the Demon's Apprentice? Maybe it was something Toru told her to do. Maybe it was because of him; I don't know…he always WAS a little strange.

"Look," Yukimasa blurted at last, turning and taking a step towards him, "after everything you and Momochi did, after everything we went through to track you down, I hate even the thought of you still alive. But Orimi and I have been through a lot over the years and I hate the idea of her throwing her life and career away even worse."


Rather than heading back to his basement apartment with the Tezukas, Haku went instead to one of the tower cranes and sprang his way up its massive, steel-framed skeleton to the top. The view of Wave Country down below with its streetlights just now twinkling to life against the backdrop of darkening streets, the Great Naruto Bridge and the rippling waters of the channel it spanned, the sunset glowing at the horizon's edge and the crisp coolness of the evening air made the world seem like a peaceful, uncomplicated place.

With the crane's elevator locked down for the evening, the ninja's solitude was all but guaranteed. Here Haku rested, gazing out, and tried to sort things through.

Wave Country, he thought first, stirred by the vista.

Of course, he'd been here since all the construction started but he'd never envisioned the full, startling scope of the effort all at once as in that model aboard The Sophae. Tazuna had explained to him before that a pool of investors from all over the world had contributed to this grand venture of developing Wave Country into a commercial center in expectation of a profitable return.

To Haku, the idea that anyone would pour their money into building a city they might never see in a far-off country they'd never visited and knew little about kind of made the young ninja's head swim…as did the effects. In less than a year, Wave Country had been almost completely transformed from a starving and squalid little village into a splendid, full-fledged city.

Lady Inoue's questions came second.

That the councilwoman would want to interview him over his mission to Konohagakure no Sato, a place few, if any, mist-ninja had ever been, was hardly surprising. But that her questions were so specific kind of was.

Does she really fear the Leaf Village would launch an attack, invade Kiri…invade Wave Country for that matter? Why would they? Haku wondered. Could her concerns be just leftover paranoia? That's possible, isn't it?

Yukimasa then: the ninja's explanation that he'd helped Haku just to protect his former teammate, Orimi, didn't feel right. From everything Orimi had ever said about him, Yukimasa was another by-the-book type who wasn't given to taking crazy chances. Even assuming that the man's feelings for Orimi ran far deeper than Orimi would ever believe, forging all those records so completely and with such detail couldn't possibly be the work of just one man.

Lastly and most importantly were those two clan patriarchs, Tohma Nikai and Noriyasu Tsujita.

Their grievances were legitimate; they had every right to be angry and every reason to seek revenge. Their entire families had been murdered, sacrificed on the altar of political expediency…and HIS too, Haku reminded himself.

But to kill everyone, the persistent thought haunted him, seeping through the totality of his existence like cold water through sand.

That was their plan after all. Kirigakure would not be destroyed in a zealot's vision of the apocalypse, by fire or ice, or in any general's nightmare of invading armies. It would be nothing like the Sand and Sound's attempted conquest of the Hidden Leaf Village with battling shinobi, monsters and ninja spells. In fact, the city itself would remain perfectly intact…only it's people would die, without fanfare, without discrimination, and not quickly but by slow, agonizing degrees, watching helplessly as their friends, family and loved ones succumb before they themselves fall inexorably to death's embrace.

The ninja sighed then shut his eyes.

Exactly when it happened, Haku couldn't say. But somewhere between the moment he'd laid his eyes upon that generations-old entry in the records room down in The Sophae's steel confines and now, the teenager had come to a resolution: that Tohma, Tsujita and their cabal must be stopped.