Hi, and welcome back!
Udon
As the rest of the children, many nursing scuffs and bruises from earlier contests, looked on, a cadet with a shaved head and a wide, cocksure grin rose from the edge of the practice area and took his position upon the raked ground. Just a few paces away, a taller, somewhat bony girl in braids did the same. With a faint wind blowing, the two faced each other, drew their right hands to the centers of their chests with the first two fingers raised and coupled as Iruka-sensei, fairly towering over both students, raised his arm toward the clear sky and held it there a moment before he dropped it sharply and announced for them to begin. The young combatants at once took fighting stances and approached each other – the boy striding, the girl creeping with cautious diffidence.
From where he watched on the sidelines, Udon swallowed uncomfortably at the continuing spectacle. Konohamaru, sitting just next to him, rippled with unabashed excitement while Moegi, at Konohamaru's other side, observed tensely with hands knotted at her chin.
"Fights generally go to those who seize the initiative," whispered Ebisu-sensei, Konohamaru's tutor, from close behind them where he'd been offering his insights on the action. "You can't expect to win from a defensive posture."
The chestnut-haired boy's heart sank as he adjusted his round glasses then dabbed woefully at his perpetually runny nose. There were few parts of the ninja curriculum he seemed to have a reasonable aptitude for but taijutsu was not one of them. Even the little bits of playful sparring he'd done with Konohamaru and Moegi seemed daunting, revealed just how uncoordinated he actually was and, more than that, his almost total lack of what Ebisu-sensei termed "Martial Spirit."
I'm just not good at this kind of thing…he moaned to himself, his expression settling into a sad, slanting frown.
As Udon watched, the first cadet shot forward. His fists battered his opponent's upraised arms, making her stumble and almost fall. For long moments, the aspiring kunoichi seemed all but beaten until she got her feet under her and fired back with a quick jab that broke the shorter, stronger cadet's rhythm.
"Movement, positioning - those are your most powerful weapons," offered the pale jonin in his cool, analytical tone. "Maneuvering yourself to the right position and controlling the distance puts you in place to perform your techniques while avoiding your enemy's."
The boy came on again with a combination that the girl ducked under and sidestepped before she lashed him with a thudding shin that caught the cadet low and hard just above the hips. The blow knocked the wind from him and nearly folded him over; the boy's scudding feet scraped the soft earth.
The mostly disciplined class came alive then with a mixed chorus of commentary and appreciative chuckling. Udon grimaced in sympathy as if he'd been hit as well.
"A foul in sport kick-boxing," observed Konohamaru's teacher drily behind mirror-black, thin-framed spectacles. "Of course, this isn't kick-boxing."
Undeterred and with his smile swapped for a tense scowl, the cadet struggled on, punched then offered a kick of his own.
"Two things here," Ebisu cautioned at once, "never attack when you're not prepared; never repeat an attack your opponent has just executed. Those are common bad habits."
The kunoichi, gliding much more confidently now, chambered her leg to kick again at which the boy startled and dropped both hands to intercept. Thus committed, he was caught quite off guard when the girl pivoted sharply to deliver the blow high to his head instead with a percussive crack that made the whole assembly wince. The cadet went rigid then crumbled face-first into the ground to a soundtrack of groans and cheers.
"And of course, you always have to watch for the feint."
Feeling slightly sick and hoping, since all members of the class had had their turn, that this lesson was finally over and they could go home, Udon turned to Konohamaru who turned to him at the same time with a bright smile fierce on his face.
"Did you SEE that, Udon?!" Konohamaru piped, almost beside himself with excitement, color rising in his cheeks, eyes glittering. "That was so awesome! I can't wait 'till I'M a cadet."
Udon managed a wan grin - about the best he could do.
Although he too wanted to be a ninja like his friends (exactly why he couldn't say), the idea of combat had never particularly enthused him. His first taste of it, such as it had been, had only confirmed his attitude.
Thinking back, Konohamaru had been SO sure about Chuuya and Inari - that they were ruthless enemy ninja, that they'd done something truly terrible to poor Naruto. His friend's unwavering uncertainly and insistence had been enough to convince him and Moegi which, really, was pretty much the way it always went since he was kind of their leader and everything. When the three of them had burst in on the pair from Wave Country, Udon really hadn't understood what he was in for, really hadn't understood what he was getting into until Konohamaru fell. To see that, to feel the sickening sensation it'd brought - like being hollowed out - was something he could never forget.
In hindsight, Konohamaru thought it was absolutely, belly-clutchingly hilarious that he'd been so wrong about the two strangers, attacked them for no reason and gotten bashed in the head with a skillet for the trouble. 'Hey! At least it wasn't a HOT skillet!' he'd joked with his gap-toothed smile and they'd all shared a laugh. And it was pretty funny…that part, anyway.
The beating that Udon had weathered didn't seem quite so funny, now or then. But more than that, they'd all taken everything so very seriously only to show, in the end, that they were just stupid little kids…which maybe was just as well. In the Hidden Leaf Village you were never far from a cemetery or monument that let you know just what happened when the adults and the bigger kids fought for real.
Looking again out of the corner of his eye at Konohamaru, Udon couldn't help but feel a familiar twinge of envy. WHY couldn't he be more like him, so carefree most of the time, so good at things, unburdened by questions or doubt, confidence like a blazing bonfire, and with the blood of the powerful Senju clan flowing through his veins? Better yet, why couldn't he be like Sasuke Uchiha, he wondered, lapsing again into daydream, so cool, so admired, at the top of his class, with that air of brooding mystery and, of course, the nearly-magical powers of his Sharingan eyes? Even the whole Hidden Leaf Village with all its talented shinobi and all the dangerous missions it'd sent him on hadn't been challenging enough for Uchiha scion and so he'd left to find his path elsewhere…a decision that had only made his reputation soar even higher.
Udon snapped from his reverie as Ebisu rose and stepped past him on his way to join Iruka-sensei just as the teacher was concluding his evaluations of his students' performances. The chunin greeted him with a friendly collegiality as he explained aloud: "Ebisu-sensei has asked us to allow his student, Konohamaru, along with a couple of his friends who plan to be cadets next year, to participate today and allow them the chance to experience our taijutsu training."
Mutters and barely suppressed snickers rose up as the young trainees whispered among themselves, eyes flickering toward Lord Hirazen's grandson with expressions that ranged between scornful and reverent.
As the blood drained from Udon's face, he could sense Konohamaru rise with gleeful anticipation. Already the boy had doffed his goggles, unwound and freed himself from the long scarf he never went anywhere without.
"Now class," continued Iruka insistently, "Konohamaru, Moegi and Udon are all younger than you are and not even cadets yet so I expect control from you, light contact only."
As Konohamaru was to be first, he eagerly took his position against an academy student who seemingly didn't know how he should go about fighting someone 'famous'. When Iruka signaled for them to begin, Konohamaru sprang immediately to the attack and took his opponent by surprise. His whirlwind blows gave the gap-toothed boy the advantage until the older cadet finally regrouped and, furious at being bum-rushed, counter-attacked with abandon. The rest of the contest degenerated into a wild brawl that, with Konohamaru being so outmatched in size and experience, he couldn't possibly win. Still, the 'honorable grandson' held on and was still standing, still fighting, beaten, bruised but unbowed when Iruka-sensei called for them to stop.
Moegi was next and found herself paired against another kunoichi. Though hesitant at first, after the first blows thudded against her guard she came to life like a fire doused with gasoline, and the fight concluded with the two seeming much closer to equal terms from when it began.
Now it was Udon's turn. He'd known it would be. With a sinking feeling settling in the pit of his stomach like that of the condemned he rose and made his way onto the combed earth stiffly, robotically, as if his body was being moved by unseen strings. It was all he could do not to stare in naked horror at the broad-shouldered kunoichi chosen to face him as she made her approach. He remembered that she'd won her bout handily.
"Relax," Ebisu muttered in a helpful tone as he took the boy's glasses from his eyes and goggles from his forehead to keep them safe, "keep your hands up, always keep moving, and try out some of the techniques we've been working on. You can do it."
Udon nodded but found as he stood there that he couldn't remember a thing. His mind had gone completely blank even as his heart began to race. While Iruka conducted, Udon felt himself go through the proceedings, raise his hand to his chest, the fore and middle fingers raised, then let them fall as the battle-scarred teacher announced for them to begin. The boy brought his hands up level with his chin then stood frozen as the stocky girl came forward and punched him squarely in the face, her fist passing through his upraised guard unobstructed like a football between goal posts.
It didn't hurt really, it was more the shock of surprise, a feeling of impact that left Udon with the sensation of drowning: struggling but unable to move, legs going to jelly. Before he could fall, the kunoichi-cadet grabbed his arm, her strong fingers digging in hard, then hauled the boy forward. Udon felt himself go, head jerking back as his body lurched forward into hers then suddenly a whirl of motion followed by a jarring thud as his back slammed against the ground. Now she was atop him, her weight pinning him, crushing the air from his lungs as she squatted heavily on his chest with her knees dug uncomfortably into his armpits.
The girl cocked a fist back but, as Udon stared dazedly up at her from the bottom of a well of helplessness, he could tell from the look on her face that it was just to demonstrate her triumph. She wasn't really going to hit him again. There was no point. Even so, a wave of nausea and pulsing pains throughout his body unlike anything he'd ever felt before gripped him. Sweat poured down his flushed cheeks and forehead. His senses muddied then with the roar of Iruka-sensei's command to stop, the mutterings and shouts of the class, the thuds of pounding, rushing footfalls in the soft ground then one quick image that clicked in his mind like a fast-motion snapshot - the unforgettable expression on Konohamaru's enraged face, bared white teeth, eyes furious as he crashed with a headlong tackle into the victorious kunoichi just a moment before everything greyed to black, a blessing that spared the boy further humiliation.
Haku
Having the advantage now, the young ninja, with him the zealous spirits of forty-seven Mist Village legends, leaped forward, his whirling swords of ice slashing deeply into leathery, scaled, armored, amorphous or feathered flanks, severing arms, pincers, tentacles and occasionally, the heads of his enemies – the 108 Demons.
Taken aback at first by the ferocity of his attack, the mainstay of the monstrous host regrouped only to find themselves driven further by a blast of sleet and arctic air that froze to ice the weaker of their numbers. In their midst, the ninja spun then then took to the air, borne aloft on a gust of wind as the demons thrashed and wriggled then circled after him into the cloud-laden sky over the shattered, lightning-scorched landscape of Piazza Hirai.
Beneath his ANBU mask, Haku smiled grimly, counting it as good luck that the beasts had fallen for it, following him up into the sky where wind and water held dominion, where the powers of his Aramata clan kekkei-genkai gave him an even greater edge. There, high above the Mist Village, Haku continued the battle, swords whirling, his mastery over the elements punishing the 108 Demons with cyclone winds, crackling lightning and torrents of freezing rain and hail. All around him, fully at his command, swarms and schools of summoned yokai fish, hungry for chakra, descended in waves over the demons their master had vanquished, allowing no part of them to flee, no tiny fragment or spark of energy from which they might regrow.
One of his ghosts, the perspicacious shade of a decades-dead sensory-ninja, let him know that not all the demons had followed him. Quite a few had wandered off into the city or fled while others had gone off in search of simpler prey or merely a place to hide. Then too, not all of them could fly.
Haku chafed at the idea that these would escape him but there was nothing he could do about it for now. The young ninja's grey eyes surveyed the monstrous forms all around him and he warned himself against overconfidence. Though he held the upper hand, these demons were certainly more than capable of killing him if he wasn't careful.
Naruto
The waters of Lord Hirai's jutsu carried him down, down into the frigid, lightless and oceanic depths for what seemed like forever, his body tumbling helplessly in the currents until, with the last of his held breath failing and precious air bubbling out of his nose and lips off into the darkness, a distant pinprick of light appeared. Naruto felt the water take hold and turn him, change his direction then send him hurtling on even faster. The light grew, expanding into a portal as the young ninja went racing toward it. The pressure against his skin, once crushing, began to weaken then suddenly released entirely as the genin broke through the plane and found himself vomited up into the air of the surface world once again. Floundering as he gasped for breath, Naruto flailed in mid-air then came crashing down, landing on hard pavement with a splash of grimy water.
"Agh!" the teenager groaned as he sat up, nursing that part of his backside that'd weathered most of the impact.
A grim alleyway greeted him – walls of dark, mineral-streaked stone, three-stories high; sad windows with sagging glass panes, the paint peeling from wooden frames; lonesome trash bins guarding fire escapes skeletal and rusting; overhead, a slice of cloud-clotted sky. He had returned to Kirigakure.
There was something different about the place though, something had changed. It had been misty before, true to its name. It was not so now. Above the alley, a harsh wind whistled, its fingers catching at the parapet caps, carrying leaves, scraps of trash and flecks of ice that rushed by in blurs or else hovered there in circling vortices before vanishing in a blink.
Stoic Hideo, having been transported with Naruto, stood a pace away, equally waterlogged but otherwise unmoved by the experience. He straightened then stared as if listening to a distant voice while the shivering yellow-haired genin pushed his way to his feet and shook some of the water off.
"My master's coming," Hideo intoned – a simple statement of fact. "I must find my way to him."
Naruto blinked. The genin knew now that Hideo was not a living man ruled by the things that drove the living but only a floating spirit, a revenant brought back by the ninja-lord Tohma Nikai and controlled by the complex dictates of his jutsu. Though generally unnerved by things supernatural, the boy ached with sadness at the idea of what that sort of half-existence must be like – to be neither alive nor dead. "Ok," he answered in simple acknowledgement then added a cracking, heartfelt voice: "thanks." The zombie, if that's what he was, had saved his life after all.
Hideo paused long enough to nod back, wove his fingers into a seal then disappeared.
Alone now, Naruto looked up, frowned then leaped, his chakra-assisted bounds taking him zigzagging back and forth up the walls of the alley until he reached the windswept rooftop. All around him, Kirigakure no Sato spread in a disordered mass out toward the waters that surrounded it – a confusing maze of cityscape slashed by wide avenues and carved by twisting canals, interspersed here and there by grander buildings, towers, stadia and more curious structures that struck up from the city like islands from the sea. Lord Hirai had delivered him to the Mist Village true to his word, though exactly where, he had no idea.
How am I supposed to find Haku in all this? Naruto grumbled to himself, bracing against a sudden gust of cold wind, just as he turned to see, off in the distance and high over the ruins of the city's largest square, a lone figure warring against swarms of unreal shapes – inky figures on a tapestry of stormy greys.
The teenager stared harder, blue eyes widening in astonishment under the shelf of his upraised hands. The sting of the wind made him wish for his long-abandoned goggles. Though he hadn't seen that particular jade robe or bone-white ANBU mask in some time, there was no mistaking them.
H-Haku?!
Naruto's heart lifted, his thoughts swam – pure happiness that his friend was alive; amazement at his powers; envy that Haku could have grown so much stronger so quickly, and finally…horror that he was missing out on a fight like this!
A snowflake landed on the genin's nose as if to tease, and he began to quake.
"Shadow Clone Jutsu!" the teenager roared to the heavens as he interwove his fingers to form a seal, rising to the challenge with a confident smile on his face.
Blond clones, an army's worth, exploded from the rooftop, shooting off in a wave like dandelion seeds on a stiff wind.
Mei
"What the hell just happened?!" the kunoichi demanded to know.
The change in the atmosphere was palpable; one didn't need to be sensitive to chakra pressures to feel it – a great unburdening as if the air itself, maybe even the entire world had grown lighter. And all this even as the skies over Kirigakure churned, spitting snow and cold rain that drifted over the pair where they stood on their distant rooftop vantage.
Captain Ao, there beside her with mouth agape, the veins along the side of his head pulsing as they carried blood and energy to and from his activated Byakugan eye, stared hard. Though it was covered as always by a protective patch, Mei knew very well that the blue-haired jonin could see the battlefield more clearly than if he looked through the lens of a powerful telescope no matter what the weather. "Haku…he's…he's broken their power."
"What?!" Mei blurted, emerald eyes wide and blazing as she watched the fugitive Demon's Apprentice soar skyward from the destroyed Piazza Hirai, trailed by a legion of loathsome monsters. "Incredible." Her mind struggled to take in the surreal scene – like something imagined in a far-eastern myth. This was a rare piece of good news, one that raised as many questions as it answered.
From what little the senior kunoichi knew at the moment there seemed only one way for someone like Haku, a talented genin-level ninja, maybe chunin at best, to have pulled off such a feat. Somehow, someone had shown him, and he had actually been able to master the Hirai Clan's most closely-guarded and demanding technique, one veiled in secrecy. The implications of such a possibility spun off into unmapped trajectories in her mind and reminded her, uncomfortably, of just how much she didn't know about what was going on. "The remaining demons," the woman followed up, putting the matter aside for now, "what's their strength, as individuals I mean?"
"Impressive, dangerous," Ao judged, "but not insurmountable."
Mei smiled as her sense of helplessness before the events that had enshrouded her Mist Village began to lift. "Really?!" She turned with a sweep toward her commanders stationed dutifully behind her, waiting in a ready crouch for her word. "Now we counter-attack! Dispatch our sensory-ninja to command points throughout the city. They are to track the location of each demon and probe for weaknesses. All other shinobi are to attack the outliers in two-team formations. Pick them off one-by-one until there're none left. Clear the city!
"Come on, Ao," the jonin announced in a simmering tone as she tossed her mane of auburn hair. "I'm in the mood to get my hands dirty."
Ao straightened, clearly reluctant to speak. "A-all our troops have been pulled back to the outskirts and bunkers to protect the civilians, Ms. Terumi," said the Captain. "It'll take a few minutes for teams to form up and move to engage."
Mei shot him a shocked, wounded look, whirled angrily then stormed up to him, moving so close that their noses brushed. "What did you just say about me not being engaged?" she demanded tensely, eyes wrathful.
"I...WHAT?!" the man squawked. "B-b-b-but, that's not what I said at all!"
"Well, if you ever say something like that again," whispered Mei with cold menace into his ear, "I'll kill you."
"Uh," replied Ao uncomfortably as he overcame his bewilderment and proceeded slowly, weighing every word, "I-I really only wanted to tell you that it'll take a little while for our mist-ninja to get to where the demons are."
"WE won't be waiting as long as that." Slowly Mei's expression softened and she added in a teasing tone: "So try and stay alert, would you?"
Before departing for the battlefield with her loyal captain in tow, the statuesque kunoichi looked up and nodded meaningfully toward the figure at war already high above the Kirigakure streets. "I swear, Ao, when this is over…I got a question or two for that kid."
Haku
The top of one demon's head went sailing off into space, having been parted across its asymmetrical array of bulbous, faceted eyes with a spray of tar-like ichor by a single swipe of the Demon's Apprentice's ice blade. The demon's equally-horrifying cousin, squirting itself through the air toward the ninja with an octopus-like pulse, suddenly froze solid and went plunging earthward, there to smash to bits against the uncaring pavement. Waves of color rippled as schools of summoned fish descended over the remains. In the frenzy, Haku had lost track of how many he'd destroyed but it was a few dozen at least now that he'd hit his stride. That was why it took him as such a surprise when his transcendent, nearly godlike powers suddenly vanished – a sickening pulse, a long moment of shock and then…nothing.
Lord Hirai had warned him. Lady Midori Hirai, who'd invented the jutsu after all and understood better than anyone how unstable and perilous it was, had been with him, merged with his consciousness. Still there'd been no hint or word of warning, no sputtering out or fading away. It was just…gone.
Having held the company and been given the guidance of so many elite shinobi, now the teenager found himself again alone, stricken with the shock of solitude. Having wielded the vast reservoirs of their combined chakra, now the trailing demands of the Hirai Clan's Candlelight Gate Jutsu tore its toll from Haku's body alone. Zabuza's apprentice could feel his life energy rip away, helpless to slow or stop it even if such a withdrawal might kill him. His consciousness flickered as he steeled himself against waves of crippling, unnerving pain.
Gravity, just a moment before so obliging, so easily overcome, now tugged at the young shinobi's limp, near-lifeless form, very gently at first but then more assertively, pulling him faster, faster and faster until he was in full gut-wrenching free-fall with the wind whipping through his hair and clothes. Down Haku plunged like a bird speared in mid-flight, his two swords of ice slipping from his slack fingers as the Kirigakure cityscape rushed up at the teenager, growing wider and wider in his blurring vision, and worse still – with demons spiraling after him from above.
Lord Hirai
The elderly ninja-lord and patriarch returned to his chair at the improvised command center he'd ordered set up in the war-ravaged courtyard of his clan's ancestral castle, folded his arms and dropped his chin. It had been, in his estimation, over sixty years since he'd acted on impulse and longer than that since he'd done something so plainly foolish. As a man who always prided himself on his deliberation – no action taken without thorough intelligence, analysis and planning, this was no easy admission. Actions, like stones, he'd always felt, should build on one another.
Perhaps he'd let Lady Inoue's attack on his castle, on himself, get the better of the emotions he'd thought safely subjugated.
A harsh cry rattled then in his ears and he looked up, startled slightly, at the lone raven that had perched there atop a scorched parapet and regarded him now askance with head cocked. The old man's lips parted.
There were no ravens on this island.
There never had been.
"Lord Hirai!" a guard alerted him sharply as more Hirai clan shinobi appeared from nowhere to protect him.
"It's alright," he announced in a tone of enforced calm as he rose. "They're my guests."
Over the shoulders of his men, he could see the figures emerge like something out of a bad dream – from one side, a towering man whose bluish skin and unfeeling eyes made his identity undeniable, whose fame and infamy both as the Scourge of the Hidden Mist would be enough to unman anyone who thought to stand against him; from the other, a man no less infamous in another land, his dreaded eyes darker than black. Both wore the flowing, high-collared ebon robes emblazoned with red, silver-bordered clouds that marked them as members of the insidious Akatsuki.
"Leave us," said Lord Hirai at which his guards turned to him in shock as if he'd gone deranged.
"S-sir?!"
The Hirai patriarch managed a confident veneer. "Do it," he commanded softly to ease their understandable panic then resumed his seat, "please."
"Well, well!" crowed Kisame Hoshigake as he drew closer. Above that pair of cruel, glassy and subaquatic eyes rested a hitai-ate bearing the familiar crest of Kirigakure but with a gash struck through it, across his powerful back - his unworldly weapon, the sword Samehada. The man looked around appreciatively at the ruins, freshly-scorched walls and cratered, still-smoldering landscape, the teams of men clearing away wreckage and searching doggedly for survivors. "'Seems like we caught you at a bad time, old man. Ha! You really must've pissed in the wrong guy's breakfast for the Mist Village to sic the Fire-Tongue Fleet on you. Oh, did you think that was a secret?" He laughed again, showing ranks of triangular teeth.
While Kisame talked, his partner circled the table slowly, studying his surroundings without comment before he took a seat beside the old shinobi. As with all the Akatsuki, at least the ones Lord Hirai had been so unfortunate as to have dealings with, they carried with them an almost inexplicable umbra of dread. The world seemed to condense, drawing in claustrophobically close.
"We got your note," intoned Itachi Uchiha hollowly, getting right to business. "Where is the jinchuuriki?"
"He's," Hirai began then the words caught in his throat. The sheer presence of these two was almost unbearable – the magnitude of Kisame's monstrous chakra along with its nature, pure and predatory; Itachi, who'd massacred his own clan, whose unfathomable abilities were feared even among the ninja elite.
However powerful Hirai's own jutsu and magics were, these two transcended anything from even his long experience, were younger, fiercer by far, feared killers and members of an organization whose reach and ultimate motives could only be guessed at. And he was old, so old and had never felt more frail. "He's gone," he said at last.
The all but last of the Uchiha looked at him curiously, his obsidian eyes hovering over shovel cheekbones. "Gone?" the former leaf-ninja echoed in a quizzical, barely-amused tone then inquired, "Where?"
Hirai hesitated, paralyzed in thought like an amateur as he considered what to say. This did not pass unnoticed.
Kisame bridled, his shark-like face twisting into a belligerent scowl. "You'd better tell us, Hirai. You're clearly having a bad day but it could get worse - worse than you can imagine!"
"Please, Kisame, can't you see this man's been through a great deal," Itachi interceded gently, coolly, consolingly then turned back to his host with a particularly chilling emphasis. "I know what it's like to…lose family. It's not a pain I would wish on anyone."
The old man swallowed hard. Something about those words, the inflection in the Uchiha's not-so-veiled threat, made him sure more than he'd ever been before that this man, very nearly the last of his kind, dwelled at the summits of sociopathic madness – the hereditary curse of his clan's kekkei-genkai.
More of the impossible black birds gathered, perching in long lines along the parapets and eaves of his castle, swooping crisscross through the air. Their boisterous caws echoed. Had he already been pulled into the world of this monster's genjutsu? Sweat beaded along the patriarch's hairline, pressure built in his chest. Was it even possible to lie to those eyes?
"K-Kirigakure," Hirai revealed at last. "He's gone to Kirigakure."
"That's all we needed to know," Itachi conceded then rose smoothly to his feet, joined his partner and both began to walk away.
"Wait," prevailed Hirai, reaching toward the two. "Will…will you still – will you still kill Krishenay Rahaman?"
"That's not the deal, old man!" barked Kisame. "I stopped being Kirigakure's protector, you should remember that." The man, the so-called 'tail-less tailed beast' smiled, showing those rows of razor teeth. "If you're all out of fresh jinchuuriki to trade, then I guess the Mist Village will just have to solve its own problems this time."
As the Scourge of the Hidden Mist's cruel, mocking laughter faded, Hirai sat and stared for a moment then rested his head in his hands. When he looked up again, both the Akatsuki along with Itachi's murder of crows were gone as if they'd never been.
Kiba
By the time they reached Kirigakure, it had become appearant that the passageway they'd discovered was a masterfully conceived escape route built probably by one of their ninja clans just as Shikamaru had predicted. The leaf-ninja had also deduced that it had been concealed within the construction of one of the Mist Village's many aqueducts that fed from nearby islands, and that spinning the glyph-inscribed prayer wheels set at the entrance and exit activated spells that masked intrusion. 'Considering that Naruto and Haku followed this passage,' he'd theorized, 'Haku undoubtedly having learned about it from his sensei, Zabuza, we can probably assume it's safe. Still, we ought to be careful.'
Huh, pretty smart, Kiba allowed with a smirk as he followed the pair's scent. In the closed environment of the passageway, the trail was fresh and distinct. No one else had passed in years.
The escape route had taken them from the concealed water-well exit out laterally quite a ways, transitioned into a tight spiral stairway that seemed to go up forever, along again at a steady, slightly downward slope and then down another tubular, spiral stairway to where it emptied out through a concealed portal into the long-abandoned ruins of a walled villa that, clearly, had been splendid once. If the place really had been the home of one of Kirigakure's ninja clans, it had been a large and wealthy one judging by the size and the architecture – so many times bigger than Clan Inuzuka's humble house back in Konoha.
It was hard for Kiba not to wonder about the circumstances surrounding their reversal of fortune.
The Leaf Village really didn't have anything like this – ruins. Of course, the entire city had been leveled to ruins more than once but it had been built back each time. There were no pockets that had been left alone, vestiges of the past abandoned to molder in place like that forgotten piece of fruit at the back of the refrigerator. Only the closed-off Uchiha District came close.
Bad luck, considered Kiba with a frown as he picked his way through the crumbling structure. Probably happens more often than I'd like to think.
The dark-haired teenager followed Haku and Naruto's trail through lightless chambers, over heaps of stone, tile and timber where the roof had fallen in, until he came to a courtyard where his appearance sent populations of startled wildlife, mostly rats and pigeons, to scurrying and flapping flight. The genin couldn't help but startle a little. It was all a little spooky with the wind rushing overhead in stormy, howling gusts that would suddenly die away into stony silences.
"Kiba," warned Shikamaru urgently, "slow down. Stuff like that could give us away."
Kiba grimaced reflexively at his former classmate's chastisement but nodded, grunting in agreement. The taller shinobi was right – rushing things was really, really stupid, especially in the middle of the Hidden Mist Village. He'd gotten away with it so far because his instincts had proven right, but nobody was one-hundred percent all the time.
Akamaru, at his heel, cocked his white head and offered an inquisitive whine.
The teenager nodded down at his canine companion, gave him a reassuring pat, took a breath and vowed greater caution.
Calm down, he urged himself. You'll find him. You'll find him.
It was easier to think than believe sometimes. Naruto was nearly impossible NOT to notice. Though ninja-trained, stealth wasn't exactly his 'thing'. The idea that he could pass unnoticed for even a minute inside Kirigakure no Sato seemed pretty farfetched. And Haku, for all his skillfulness, was still a wanted criminal having been Zabuza Momochi's disciple and accomplice. If the Mist found out he'd come back, the shit would really, really hit the fan.
The genin slowed his pace, let out a breath, and tried to get a handle on his over-eagerness. REAL ninja don't put themselves and their teammates at risk over personal stuff, Kiba told himself and wished that patience was one of his virtues. Only selfish scumbags, the Sasukes of the world, pull crap like that.
The young leaf-ninja shivered inwardly at the comparison then allowed himself a grim smile.
I guess it won't kill me to have to wait a little longer. Ok, fine - teamwork, he vowed but still bristled at the delay…until the time's right!
It took a few more minutes to reach the iron-bound door that lead outside. There they paused to go over what disguises they would adopt through their Transformation Jutsu and what roles they would play. Out of the 'Seven Ways of Going' they'd all mastered in the Leaf Village's Academy, the 'traveling family' seemed best, owing to their number and that they had a dog with them.
Though the door itself seemed well-secured, Shikamaru figured out almost at once that most of its locks were only for show and had it open in moments, finding behind it a barren alleyway where a small cluster of vagrants slept in a loose group. The chunin stiffened and held his team back.
"What is it, Shikamaru," said Chouji in a hushed, urgent tone, "a trap?"
The taller ninja shook his head. "Worse," he began quietly, straightened and turned back to the three soberly. "I thought right off it was weird to people sleeping in the middle of the day during a windstorm. Look at their clothes too – nicer than what you'd expect from anyone living on the streets. Those people aren't sleeping."
Kiba narrowed his eyes. "So what are you saying?" he challenged. "Spit it out already."
Shikamaru frowned. "You remember that ninja clan Mari warned us about, right, the Tsujita and their kekkei-genkai?" He cocked his thumb in the direction of the bodies. "I guess these guys couldn't make it to the hospital."
Sakura gasped. "Plague."
Reflexively the four and even Akamaru drew back a step, their faces tense.
"So w-what," said Chouji nervously, "what're we gonna do?"
"What can we do – our mission," Shikamaru answered. "There's an army at the other end of our aqueduct passage. It'd be troublesome if we turned back. Plus we all knew it was dangerous. What difference does it make if the danger's from a disease or enemy ninja? You can end up just as dead either way. And don't forget - Naruto's already out there, Haku too."
The chunin's expression shifted uncomfortably as if he hadn't meant to put matters quite so bluntly. Still, thought Kiba, he was right.
"Guys," piped Sakura, her firm, cheering voice breaking the mood, "forget about it. A plague's the last thing we have to worry about. Remember, Lady Tsunade is the greatest medical ninja in the elemental nations. As long as we can get back, she can cure us."
Chouji looked up, cautiously hopeful. "You really think so?"
"She healed you after your fight with Jirobo. And remember what she did for Rock Lee? I've seen what she can do," the kunoichi attested. "It's nothing less than amazing…that's why I became her disciple."
A thankful smile played out over Shikamaru's face. "Exactly right. All leaf-ninja have to do their jobs, the Hokage too."
Kiba smiled, one fang pressing into his lower lip. "So how come we're wasting time standing around here?"
Taking the lead, Kiba picked his way down the alleyway, bending his path to veer around the bodies that were still fresh enough to look like they might still be alive - unconscious or sleeping. Only their pallor betrayed them, their open, glassy eyes, their cold, un-breathing stillness. They had not, thankfully, passed the point where the genin could smell the difference. He'd seen corpses before of course, but not so frequently that they failed to unnerve him.
Staying diligently on his task, Kiba refocused on Haku and Naruto's scents. Though their trail was protected by the walls of the alleyway, there was a hard wind blowing, making it so much fainter than it had been in the sealed environment of the aqueduct's secret passage. The young ninja scowled and sent more chakra to the olfactory receptors of his nose and to a small area in the frontal lobe of his brain until the trail was discernible again. Suddenly, a sharp stench assaulted him – a reek of earth and animal musk mixed with blood. The ninja spun, hunting for the source. Akamaru noticed it too, darted away a few feet and glared up, barking.
"What is it, Kiba?" asked Sakura who, with Kiba and the others, followed the puppy's eyes up toward a bristling leonine face that peered down at them hungrily from the rooftop just above. The monster straitened slowly – its head bulbous, white and bony with tall horns jutting from its brow, eyes blazing red and gold, its mouth a horror of yellow tusks and, hanging from its neck - containers of glass bound with iron. Within them red fluid sloshed.
Taken aback in shock, Kiba recoiled at first before he settled himself. "Oh, is this the part where I'm scared?" he spat at the demon who roared back in reply – a sound like metal being crushed. "YOU should be scared," the genin explained in a snarl as his hands flowed through a complex series of seals and a purposeful smile spread over his face, both pointed incisors bared. "Ninja art -," he began.
"Wait, Kiba -," cautioned Shikamaru.
"-Lycanthropy, Level Two."
Tsunade
The Fifth Hokage of the Village Hidden in the Leaves sat at her desk that had been reclaimed recently from the forest and gazed contemplatively out her newly-installed window in the freshly-repaired wall of her office, thinking about everything and nothing in turns.
"Come in," she offered in response to her adjutant's familiar knock.
Shizune poked her black-haired head in then entered, approaching her master in what was clearly forced composure. "Uh, Lady Tsunade," she began softly in that particular tone that warned her master to brace herself, "it's happened again…worse this time."
That's how it was for the most part: being Hokage. You didn't have time to solve all the Village's problems like you always imagined you would; you were always too busy either juggling the endless day-to-day tasks that kept the wheels of bureaucracy in motion or else emergencies, things that had to be done NOW that you would never have expected.
"I see," the woman sighed, knowing at once what the medical-ninja was talking about - the strange outbreaks of random diseases that had been striking here and there throughout the village recently, defying explanation. "What is it this time?"
"Almost an entire class of academy students, Iruka and Ebisu as well – dengue fever."
Tsunade rubbed her forehead then rested both arms flat on her desk. This was serious. For a moment she allowed herself to entertain the idea that maybe there could be some conventional, perfectly ordinary and reasonable explanation for an often deadly, mosquito-borne virus much more common to tropical climates to suddenly strike here in her Hidden Leaf Village. A nagging pessimistic streak made sure it didn't last long. "We're under attack, aren't we," she concluded grimly.
Shizune's lips formed a thin line. "Our analysts with the ANBU have calculated that the statistical chance of all these outbreaks being natural occurrences is virtually zero," the kunoichi all but confirmed. "Our Research Department couldn't find any reported of a similar incident occurring anywhere. Also, the Aburame Clan has confirmed with certainty that none of these outbreaks were caused by insect-tamers or even insect activity. "
"It makes no sense!" Tsunade snapped, tossing her head in exasperation. "A few people come down with shingles here, a few more with h. pylori there, norovirus, e. coli infections, small spikes and mico-outbreaks all over Konoha but nothing truly serious or widespread. It doesn't even seem like any of it was intended to hurt us, maybe confuse or distract or something like that at most…unless it was all just for practice." The Hokage grew quiet and steepled her hands under her chin, her amber eyes hard. Silence filled the room. "I suppose whoever's responsible has learned to be more dangerous," she suggested then began again in a more subdued tone in regard for the victims: "Is everyone alright?"
"Since our medical corps was already on high alert, we managed to isolate those infected right away once the first patients started coming in with extremely high fever, weakness, joint pain and dehydration. They're all being treated now at the hospital and are in stable conditions."
Tsunade frowned and sat back in her chair. "I was hoping we would have determined and contained the source by now and avoided a panic but there's no putting it off anymore – I'll have to warn the village." She rose and moved to the window. Sunlight slanted across her sandy hair, concerned expression and the pale green of her robe as she drew close. "Our citizens are a pretty tough bunch. They've suffered attacks, weathered shinobi mischief and mayhem since the inception of our Village."
Outside, Konohagakure no Sato glowed in the afternoon.
The kunoichi braced her hands into her hips. "That doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt a little bit to have to be the bearer of bad news. It feels a lot like failure to me and I don't like it." She rolled her eyes skyward, seeing a premonition of Danzo, Homura and Koharu's old faces scowling back at her, critical and unimpressed. That this was a medical issue that had confounded her, a legendary medical-ninja, only made it worse. The Hokage sighed, her chin dropping toward her ample chest. "And then there's the political cost, of course, always.
"Do we at least have any leads?"
Shizune allowed herself to brighten just slightly then handed her a folder. "This time there was a boy, a friend of Konohamaru's, who was at the scene of the outbreak but is, so far, asymptomatic. He's the only one who is. We're keeping him for observation." The dark-haired girl paused meaningfully. "There's a…something unusual in his blood work I thought you should look at."
The woman glanced at it, shook her head with a snort and a dismissive smile. "Obviously there's a problem with the instrumentation, the technician or both," she explained. "Run it again."
"Lady Tsunade," the medical-ninja persisted with some delicacy, "we considered those possibilities and ran it five times on three different machines. I personally oversaw the last two. It's the same every time."
The Hokage's brow narrowed, remembering how well she'd trained Shizune. "Contaminated sample?"
Shizune shook her head.
Tsunade opened the folder again and stared, frowning this time. "Shit," was all she could say.
Kiba
Breathing hard, the team from Konoha rested, three of them staring in wary disbelief at the monstrous half-man, half-wolf towering in their midst. Even the normally precocious Akamaru seemed subdued by its overwhelming, supernatural presence. The creature's right hand clutched a long horn, broken off at one end, while the razor claws of its left were clotted with gelatinous ichor.
"So I guess that's a...," mused Shikamaru with an uncertain, discomfited look on his face, "new jutsu, Kiba?"
The beast straightened into a more familiar, typically-human posture, picked his dagger fangs absently with the pointed end of the horn then tossed it away and shook off the gore from its hand. "That's it," the beast rumbled, "Inuzuka Clan Jutsu. Mom's finally teaching me the GOOD stuff she'd kept secret all these years."
"Well change back already!" insisted Sakura with a shake of her head as she nursed her knuckles. "You're way too scary looking. And I never thought I'd ever see you with a jutsu scarier than that giant two-headed wolf. Between you and that thing," she canted her head in the direction the lion-like monster had fled, "it's getting just a little too Halloween around here."
The werewolf leaned forward provocatively and raised a gleaming, yellow eye. "Aw, I was just starting to like me this way."
"That's a pretty good technique," offered Chouji as he looked his lupine companion up and down. "I don't think we could've driven off that - that, whatever it was otherwise."
"Yeah, it's pretty cool," Kiba ventured. "The only drawback is…it gives me a craving for human flesh."
Chouji, Shikamaru and Sakura stared at him aghast.
The werewolf spread his arms then chuckled. "I'm just kidding, guys, come on. Lighten up a little."
"Cut it out, Kiba," grumbled Sakura who crossed her arms and frowned. "It's not funny."
"Seriously guys," Kiba began again in grave admission, staring at his curled, clawed hands just as his teammates started to relax, "I can't control this form all the time."
Again they stared.
This time he shifted and looked straight at Shikamaru. "I got you again," he quipped with a fanged smile that was half-silly, half-nightmarish. "Are you sure you're the smart one of the group?"
"Will you stop it!" Shikamaru barked testily then slugged wolf-Kiba in the stomach. "And next time, WARN us if you're gonna use a jutsu like that."
Kiba folded slightly from the blow, laughing as he stumbled back a step. "Oof! Hey, hey, EASY, Shikamaru," he protested happily, clearly delighted with himself. "I'm delicate under this rough façade."
"Oh? I'm surprised," replied Sakura.
"What, that I'm really delicate?"
The pink-haired girl's eyes lit. "That you could use the word 'façade' in a sentence."
"Hey! Now that -," sputtered the werewolf, "- that's mean!"
"Ok, ok, back on the clock, team," said Shikamaru gruffly as Kiba released his jutsu and returned again to his human self.
The genin, still chuckling softly, sniffed and looked up at the stormy, snow-speckled sky, the wind blowing hard in eerie push-pull gusts above the roofs of the buildings that flanked them. The lingering, playful smile faded then from his tattooed face.
"What is it, Kiba?" said Sakura.
After all his kidding around it was hard to tell her. "I've…I've lost the scent," he admitted, reluctance making his voice catch.
A pall fell over the team.
"Ok, I haven't completely lost it. It's just that that demon's stink is covering it up." He frowned as he started to pace. "But the real bad news is that wind. Normally, I'd just circle the area, do a spiral search pattern out wider and wider until I found the scent again but all this wind…"
"The trail's been blown away," Shikamaru finished for him.
Kiba nodded, crestfallen.
The chunin looked up into the turbulent sky. "Tracking them is still our best hope, even if the trail's faint. Otherwise we got nothing," he offered, doing nothing more than summarizing their obvious plight. "Alright," Shikamaru started again, "being that a storm's underway and, for whatever reason, there are monsters running loose, not to mention a plague, it's better if we hole up in the villa until the storm dies down and we can find out more about what's going on." His clear, dark eyes swept over the faces of his teammates who all nodded in assent. If their leader was at all discouraged, he hid it well. "Come on, team, let's -."
A flash of motion drew their attention. All looked up at the speeding figure that passed over them, clearing the alleyway easily in a single bound. And though the boy was clad in the blue and grey fatigues of a ninja of the Hidden Mist, there was no mistaking that wide-eyed face and brush of bright yellow hair even at the quickest glance.
"No-," Sakura started, mouth agape.
"-freaking -," continued Chouji, wide eyed.
"—way!" Kiba finished in complete astonishment. The genin's cheek twitched; his mind reeled at the impossible idea that he'd really just seen what he'd just seen. His heart leaped. The leaf-ninja dipped immediately into a crouch. With legs fully coiled to spring in pursuit of his 'prey', he nearly strained something as he forced himself to pause and shoot a look toward Shikamaru.
The chunin glared back at him then blinked, nonplussed. "NOW you're waiting for my go-ahead?! AFTER HIM!" he blurted harshly with a whipping wave of his arm as all four ninja along with Akamaru rushed to give chase.
Haku
In the seconds before impact, Haku considered his options. Nothing came to mind. Even if he were to survive the fall, the multi-tentacled, somewhat starfish-like horror plunging after him, blotting out most of what he could see of the sky, didn't seem inclined to let him live much longer thereafter.
The cityscape below exploded in his vision and the young ninja closed his eyes, preparing for the hit and very probably oblivion, when a great gale of wind blasted up and slowed his fall. Though a godsend, it was not enough to stop the young shinobi's momentum. His back slammed hard against the flat, gravel-topped roof, leaving him with only barely enough breath and sense to flop over and scrabble away an instant before the pursuing demon crashed down, smashing a gaping rent in the unlucky building.
With his vision filled with spots and sparkles, and his body refusing most of his commands, Haku felt the roof give way behind him; he fell and went rolling along with a cascade of gravel right toward the monster's thrashing, thorny limbs. Desperately, he pulled out a fistful of senbon and hammered home a handhold, using it to stop his slide, then pulled himself up and scrambled away, taking shelter behind a squat, mechanical penthouse. Barely had he rested his bruised and broken back and let out a pained breath when one of the demon's flailing limbs smashed through his hiding place with a crash of shattering masonry and shriek of tearing metal. Vestiges of Master Zabuza's training compelled him to spring away, fling senbon while in mid-air then meet the ground with a fluid, diving roll but as he tried, he found his battered, depleted body unable to carry it out – a lingering cost of Lord Hirai's jutsu.
Haku landed in a graceless sprawl, flopping limply over the gravel as a riot of tentacles slashed after him, carving great gashes and rents in the roof all around. The ninja searched wildly for cover then made a reckless dash for a maintenance ladder that led down to a lower level. The whole way, his legs twitched and wracked, nerves misfiring, muscles seizing, unable to muster any of the coordination he'd trained years to develop, as one tentacle snared him by the ankle and another his upper arm and dug in with hook-like barbs.
Pain assailed the teenager while he struggled to free himself and resorted again to his senbon. Taking three in his free hand, he drew back to stab away at his entanglement when the tentacles suddenly withdrew, having frozen and broken off where they touched him. Diverting what little chakra he had to slow the bleeding, he pulled the fragments from his body then looked up in shock as more snow began to fall.
Is this…is this me? he wondered and could find no other explanation. Rather than dwelling too long on the question, Haku made for the ladder then half-climbed, half stumbled down most of its length before falling the rest of the way. Gasping, the Demon's Apprentice pushed himself up. His grey eyes flashed over the flat, empty space that awaited him. Though he'd gained some distance, there was no place to hide here, no place to retreat.
Atop the higher roof above and behind him, the demon-starfish gathered itself, rising up and drawing back with its multitude of arms. Thankfully, the beast was delayed as it fended off other demons equally eager to feast on the teenager's slender form. Haku staggered back, senbon in hand, having little idea of what he would or even could do against the monster's next assault.
Once the competition had been beaten back, the demon reared to strike but then lurched as silver blurs flashed suddenly toward it – kunai knives that struck hard and stuck in its armored hide. Haku's eyes went wide then as he saw the exploding tags hanging from their hilts, chakra fuses sputtering down to detonation. The Demon's Apprentice dropped to the ground and covered his head in his arms just in time to feel the concussive shock of multiple explosions wash over him, booms like thunder almost loud enough to cover the demon's bestial, unworldly screech. As the ninja pushed himself up to a crouch, a quick look told him the demon was still there, alive but inconvenienced at the loss of several of its limbs, the parts of which rained down in bloody, jigsaw-puzzle fragments. The demon thrashed in rage then was swallowed up in the blue and white strobe-light pops of flash-bang grenades followed by billows of thick, obscuring smoke from which a pair of Narutos emerged to help a startled Haku to his feet.
"Not surprised, are you?" quipped one with a sarcastic chuckle. "You didn't really think I'd go back to Konoha."
Haku, dazed and astonished, too weakened even to speak, only grit his teeth.
The other Naruto took him by the shoulder. "Hey," he inquired, leaning close and looking past his zodiac mask and into his grey eyes, "are you alright?"
Spasms of pain shot through his body, worrying him not so much because of their intensity as their unfamiliarity – a simultaneously sickening, squirming, pulsing and electric sensation, like so many fuses tripping, resetting and tripping again. The ninja swallowed hard, glad Naruto couldn't fully see his expression, then shook his head.
The blonde's blue eyes widened with concern then settled as he frowned. "Well hang tough," he encouraged in his gravely tenor, "I'm on my way! It's a mess out there but I'll be here in a couple of minutes! Just a couple of minutes! Wait for me and DON'T DIE, ok!?"
Haku and the two Narutos flinched and looked up as the demon flailed through the smoke then dropped down, making the whole structure of the low roof shake and buckle. A good fifth of its body had been blown off, with the writhing mass of tentacles revealing a patch of gory, black viscera and a wet-work of pulsing organs. "Go!" one of the Narutos shouted to Haku. "I'll find you! Trust me!"
The demon surged at them, giving forth with an unidentifiable sound and a storm of grasping, rioting tentacles that sawed both genin in two as they leaped toward it and sent Haku flying back as he tried to retreat. The two clones vanished in bursts of dissipating chakra. The Demon's Apprentice went hard into the parapet that caught him behind the knees and he went tumbling over, grasping for and missing the edge with his outstretched fingers as he started to fall; tentacles hunted for him. Falling again, he looked over his shoulder at the onrushing ground. Above him, relentless, the demon poured over the lip of the building after him. Haku, following a notion, opened his arms, deliberately making himself an easier target as a tentacle lashed around his waist and wrapped around and around in a crushing, inescapable grip.
For whatever reason, I was still able to use my kekkei-genkai, he considered, I just hope I still can.
Haku closed his eyes in concentration and the realization came to him - his grandmother and uncle, though they'd never met in person, hadn't wasted their short time together. While a part of his consciousness through the auspices of Lord Hirai's jutsu, they'd left inscribed in his mind an encomium of Aramata Clan knowledge, their history and their techniques which, done properly, were effortless for those who carried the bloodline. As he thought for the one he had in mind, it came. There was even a name: "Ice Release," he remembered, "Kit of Needles."
Braced for the worse, the young ninja couldn't bear to look and only awaited what would happen for good or ill.
All motion slewed to a stop.
The tentacle that held him, cool already, grew colder.
Haku opened his eyes, finding his masked face scant inches away from a circular maw ringed with rotating teeth.
"Splendid," he offered sardonically, coughed at the stench, then looked to the rest of the demon's body which was suspended in place, transfixed completely and from every angle by shafts of glistening ice.
The tentacle that held him grew slack and slowly unwound, spinning Haku around, around and around before depositing him both abruptly and unceremoniously onto the street. There the ninja lay on the cobblestones, dizzy and half-paralyzed. Gradually his senses returned and he could make out the sounds of intense fighting developing nearby – the animalistic and unintelligible utterances of what could only be the 108 Demons along with the crackle of jutsu, the boom of exploding tags and the guttural shouts of men and women…ninja of the hidden-mist.
I can't stay here, Zabuza's former student realized calmly and then, to his horror, his mistake. What was I thinking – wearing THESE clothes: this robe, this mask! I might actually stand a chance if I could pass unrecognized.
A few seconds of fruitless struggle passed before Haku found that he could move again. The teenager experimented, kicking his legs, feebly at first and then stronger until he could half-roll, half-crawl his way out from under the slain starfish-demon's slack, outstretched tentacle. The young ninja slowly made his way to his feet, using a wall to brace himself then attempted to run. An awkward, horrifically-slow hobble on legs that still refused to function and with the more familiar though still hindering pain of broken ribs was the best he could do. Just overhead, the shadows of five ninjas flashed followed by a looming, much more frightening shape. The battle for Kirigakure which he and the 108 Demon's had started was still well under way.
Haku followed the street which emptied into a square where two, five-man mist-ninja squads were engaged in a furious battle with a four-armed, four-legged, wooden-looking goliath. As the monster smashed a building down onto its enemies, the teenager huddled instinctively and tried to keep out of sight, following close to the walled edge of the square, away from the colossus and into the ruins of a cloister where the fight had already past.
'Glad I didn't have to fight THAT, Haku spared the thought… and that it can't fly.
Weakly, he staggered on, moving slower and slower, his body running down, mind going dazed. Vowing to rest in the shelter of an arched portico and from there to keep an eye out for the returning Naruto or one of his shadow-clones, the teenager made for it but had to stop halfway. Haku dropped then to his knees, onto his back and from there into darkness.
This concludes the Part 7 story arc - House of Candlelight. Please return for Part 8 – Hide and Go Seek.
THANKS FOR READING!
Thanks to 'Guest' for pointing out my misspelling of Kisame. Is fixed.
As for other good Haku stories, I'm sorry I can't be of much help. There IS another Broken Tool story by another author which I recall seemed pretty good. Other than that, I'd just check the forums and look for a Haku-centric one. 'Snowman' is one of them. I hope that helps a little!
-Jonohex
