Thanks for reading! SO sorry for such a long delay coupled with a chapter that doesn't justify all the extra time. Hope you like.
Inoue
Pradesh strode into the Sophae's mess hall then wove his way purposefully through the rows of long, empty metal tables, ignoring the 'industrial lemon' stink of all-purpose cleanser that hung heavily in the air. The man's rough profile flashed in soft, stroboscopic rhythm as he passed banks of heavily-reinforced porthole windows while the few lingering members of the ship's janitorial crew slinked away.
As impassive as Pradesh's scarred, swarthy features were, Lady Chinami Inoue could tell at a glance that he came with news. The old woman looked up expectantly from her mid-morning bowl of oatmeal and berries to greet him then, without wasting a word, took the freshly decrypted dispatch from his hand.
As the kunoichi's pale eyes tracked over the pages, her lips pressed into a thin line. Almost at once she winced and clicked her tongue. "This Terumi woman is far more capable of managing a crisis than I ever would have suspected," Inoue offered in sour disapprobation, smacking her fingertips smartly against the offending paper. "Even the revelation that she herself possesses a kekkei-genkai doesn't seem to bother anyone. Far from spiraling into the chaos I expected, Kirigakure actually seems to have accepted her leadership and is beginning to re-stabilize. Apparently," she noted with an upward glance, "our red-headed Mist Village Venus also doesn't buy the prima facie evidence of Clan Tsujita's responsibility for the plague outbreak either and has teams scouring the city for other possible sources of the contagion." The Councilor sat back then spat out a discouraged breath, her expression dark but beneath it a begrudging respect. "How the hell did she figure that out; is it some sort of intuitive sense or does she actually know something?"
Pradesh, standing by alertly, raised a bristly eyebrow. "Should we kill her?"
Lady Inoue smiled at that. She couldn't help it. One of the many things she appreciated about her head of security was that he was a man of action and not one to mince words. You didn't go to him for consolation or conversation; you went to him when you wanted something done. The more specific you were in your request, invariably, the happier you'd be with the outcome. "Perhaps," replied the Councilor with a clever smirk, wondering why, after so many years together, she hadn't learned by now not to waste her breath emptying idle complaints into his iron ears. "I'll have to think about it. There's rather a lot to sort through here…oh," she piped sweetly, "like this tidbit for instance: little Haku has killed Krishenay Rahaman, defeated him in single combat, broke him open then slaughtered a great many of the 108 Demons that had resided within him and were the source of his power before the boy fell finally to their superior numbers."
That drew a reaction of wide-eyed shock from the otherwise taciturn shinobi, as she'd known it would. "Zabuza's student?" Pradesh's growling voice creaked into rarely used octaves. His eyes, one dark, one light, bulged. "THAT Haku?" He shook his head in adamant dismissal. "That can't be right."
Inoue suppressed a chuckle at the jonin's highly entertaining consternation then gave a thoughtful hum. It was never wise to take intel at face value. Paradoxically, it was never wise to dismiss it either. "Haku," the clan-matriarch muttered to herself, remembering that strange, girlish little boy in the ANBU mask, "who'd have thought he'd come back to make such a fuss. I had, naturally, assumed that he was aligned with the enclave clans before but now I'm not so sure. My, but this is a bad time for a wild card to turn up." She looked up toward her head of security then, hesitantly hopefully. "Is there any word from the Fire-tongue Fleet at least? We should certainly have received a messenger-osprey from them by now."
Pradesh regained his martial composure then again shook his head.
"Heaven and Earth!" Inoue pouted. "What could have happened to them? Of all the players on the field they're the last ones I figured I'd need to fret over." A grim look overtook the kunoichi's aged countenance that did nothing to convey the true depths of her vexation. If the powerful Hirai family remained extant, and Lord Kissohamaru alive, it could spell disaster! Her bony fingers tapped a rapid rhythm against the metal tabletop. "Sorry, dear," she said a touch more cheerily, "I'll need to mull this over awhile."
Pradesh bowed crisply and left the ninja-matriarch to her thoughts.
Once alone, Inoue pondered her next move. Events were not unfolding as planned and now it seemed that she'd have to take a more direct role or at least allow herself the option. It was regrettable, she concluded, terribly inelegant, but sometimes even the most thoughtfully laid array of dominoes needed a little help to fall all the way to the end. Her thoughts pivoted to the midnight-blue clad guardians on watch, standing vigilantly along the decks of her ship, her Nephilim Guard – the most secret and, in many ways, the most terrible of all the Mist's forbidden weapons hiding in plain sight as part of her personal praetorian.
To think that it might come to that.
Dark scenarios, a thousand 'what-ifs' splashed across her imagination – war with the other ninja villages, herself on trial for crimes against humanity, her clan suffering the same fate as Haku's, the Kaguyas and scores of others – another sacrifice on the altars of war and expedience. Inoue pinched the bridge of her nose. It was no easy thing to dance with infamy no matter how lofty one's aspirations.
Well, it's not lost yet, the Councilor considered. History is written by the victors…and is just as easily RE-written. The ends justify the means but only if you win. This is no time for second-guessing.
"In for a penny," the old shinobi told herself, bracing herself, using an adage whose origins had been lost in the mists of time since long before the founding of the ninja villages, "in for a pound." Inoue rose and went to a call station, picked up the speaking pipe and announced to the bridge through its conical mouthpiece: "Set course for Kirigakure."
Haku
After an hour or two and all that had been said all three fell quiet.
Haku stared, his mind drowning in and numbed by the unreality, the sheer insanity of the plan the three of them had concocted. Sitting there in the heart of the storied Coral Pavilion, before him its disfigured owner, it was hard to imagine he'd ever been the dauntless Demon's Apprentice who'd accompanied his master on dozens of dangerous missions and then finally to war against the Mist Village with barely a thought of the consequences. The proposal now before them, 'the plan,' made all those adventures seem ludicrously tame in comparison.
The teenager rubbed his cheek then, seeking solace, turned slowly toward Shikamaru who sat on the tatami a couple of paces away and saw that the expression of barely-contained, somewhat nettled disbelief on the leaf-ninja's face reflected his own.
"Aw, cheer up, team," quoth the Manatee who, though blind, could clearly sense their gloom. "Try to be positive."
The crippled jonin rewarded them with a serene smile that, for an instant, flashed brightly with the briefest, cruelest spark – better you than me. The story this man, Kujira Okino had shared was that he'd indeed had an epiphany of sorts while in the hospital where he'd lain, weak and broken. Trapped within the body his former partner had crippled, Okino explored the reaches of his genjutsu powers, directing them upon himself to escape his stark reality. In doing so, the ninja had attained a new perception of the world and found that he could submerge within it and impose his will upon it, that, from this new vantage, he could perceive the complex flows of energies that composed actions and events and watch what forms they took as they coursed from the past through the eye-of-the-needle of the present and on into the future.
Shikamaru frowned. "So what are our chances?" he ventured with a reserved, reluctant skepticism. That question really was what it all came down to. His penetrating eyes flicked up. "Can you tell?"
The ponderous jonin lifted his chin. "To be honest," Okino offered soberly, "I see the destruction of Kirigakure and everyone in it as this magnificent confluence of energies all pouring together. It's kind of like the way mountain rains form rivers, the way those rivers pour into lakes – the natural consequence of the sum of every single event that has ever happened since the dawn of the ninja-world. Consequently," he went on to say, "the possibility of our poor plan's success looks like nothing more to me than a thread-thin trickle that twists away just before that all-but-inevitable junction. I would have missed it completely had I not been looking for it."
Haku frowned. Though he couldn't say he fully understood Okino when he talked this way, he certainly got the idea. Zabuza's former disciple imagined that part of Okino's difficulty in his explanations was akin to someone trying to describe sight to a blind person or hearing to the deaf. You could only describe it by analogy or in relation to the other senses your audience had.
"That's what I see," the Manatee hastened to add, "but I'm starting to feel like it's not as bad as all that." The blind jonin clutched the air then gestured in Haku's direction. "After all, I didn't see you defeating Krishenay Rahaman as a possibility either! So maybe my perception is not as keen as I'd thought or maybe fortune really does favor the bold."
Over the course of their conversation, Okino had come across sometimes like a holy man who truly did possess divine wisdom – a living, broken Buddha whose vandals had robbed him of his legs and eyesight rather than his head. At other times he'd seemed like nothing more than a dispirited vagrant, a man with fractured sanity, abandoned by those he once served, whose thoughts wandered shadowy landscapes of dream and delusion and skirted reality's harsh light. Though it was hard to tell how much he could be trusted, the former mist-jonin's powers seemed real enough. Okino had already submitted as proof how he'd shielded Shikamaru and his team from detection, had manipulated a handful of the 108 Demons into attacking the Akatsuki. He'd also described in convincing detail how he'd similarly drawn Shikamaru and Haku here, overtly in the first case and subtly in the second. The existence of this Coral Pavilion itself and its beguiling properties certainly added further credence to his story.
Haku looked again toward Shikamaru who'd pieced together most of the plan, working out particulars with Haku, who knew more details about the way things stood, and Okino who claimed the ability to divine how different courses of action might play out. Shikamaru, the reluctant mastermind, plainly had little enthusiasm for saving the Mist Village as one might expect or at least saw the task as lying beyond his purview. Okino, for his part, had gone to some lengths to convince the ninja from Fire Country that, since he and his team were trapped here along with Naruto, their fates and Kirigakure's were joined.
The Demon's Apprentice closed his eyes. Despite his recent rededication to this cause he'd really hoped to be able to foist more of the burden onto other, more willing and capable shoulders and return to his life in the Land of Waves. As it was though, much of the heavy lifting would remain his and his alone. Disappointed with himself, he yearned for the single-minded shinobi he'd been as Zabuza-sensei's disciple when no challenge was ever too arduous or insane. How had he become so stultified?!
"Can you give us any more advice then as to how we might best accomplish all this, Master Okino," ventured Haku, still trying to unearth something, anything, that might give him a bit more optimism, "what we should watch out for?"
The old veteran's face screwed with thought. "Though the immediate future is constrained by the conditions established by the present moment, the number of all the possible outcomes is still quite vast. In the great flows of energy and likelihood I can't make out all the little details that might contribute to either success or failure but I do see that your abilities to improvise, your passion, the way you react to victory and loss all improve our chances." Again that grin - like a spark in the dark. "So other than what I've warned you against already, really it's better if I don't say too much."
Loss?! The word hit Haku like a spear. Hadn't he already lost enough – his parents, his master and very nearly his life several times over? The young ninja tried to shake the feeling off, unwilling to let himself vacillate this way. Sacrifice was, after all, the foundation of ninja life.
"Haku, Shikamaru," the Manatee sighed, his words dying out in the high, four-columned hall. "I'm not a very good coach. I wish I was…full of lovely golden words to inspire you with. To tell you the truth, just a day or so ago I was more than happy to retreat into the world and allow Kirigakure's destruction to unfold. It was inevitable after all so why waste my time? Then you did something I thought was impossible, Haku, and then someone else said something to me and now here you all are. Maybe my old-man's cynicism just makes certain things seem inevitable when they're really not."
I inspired him? Haku wondered. In his present state, the young shinobi's mind struggled with the idea.
"I can't tell you guys much more except that together we – you - have a chance, a small one, to do something great though no one will ever thank you." He smiled then chuckled grimly. "And what the hell, maybe I can get in a little payback against that former partner of mine along the way.
"WELL!" Okino concluded with a clap of his beefy hands, "Since we all have our marching orders, I suppose it's time for a reunion."
Panels all around the high chamber slid open as if by magic and, after a few squawks of surprise and shouts of greeting, Chouji, Sakura, Kiba and Akamaru poured in from one room while Naruto, Tensai, Sakiko and Gennosuke emerged from the other. Emotions flowed at the sight of one another but were quickly checked by the presence of strangers, especially the Manatee's.
Haku smirked at the comical awkwardness. Even playful Akamaru seemed subdued by his master's caution. But almost at once, the young ninja's cloud-grey eyes met Naruto's blues and it was Haku's turn to glance away awkwardly.
"Sorry team," announced Okino. "The party will have to wait just a little while longer. It's good to meet you all and have you together at last but we are somewhat pressed for time just now and so you should be going."
"Is that really it then?" Haku blurted uncharacteristically, feeling that they were all getting the 'bum's rush.'
"For the time being…IF you win," the big man answered, canting his head toward the sound of the teenager's emotive contralto, then added direly: "forever if you lose." Okino's round, hulking frame quivered as he laughed. "Sorry," he added in a mollifying tone, "that's what passes for my sense of humor these days and it's not what you wanted to hear." The sardonic smile faded from his face and when he spoke again the timber of his voice filled the room. "The future lies with all of you now. Seriously," he clarified after a moment, "this isn't some damn graduation speech. Go make it happen. What more do you want me to say?"
Udon
With a wad of moist handkerchief crushed up in his little hands the boy sat on the floor hunched over, his back to the wall as he stared unblinkingly at the door, as motionless as the rest of the contents of his roomy cell. He might let his gaze fall elsewhere if there was anything worth looking at but as it was his accommodations were designed for practicality rather than appeal. The walls were all perfectly smooth and seamless, armored in light beige epoxy that curved into the floor and ceiling for easy cleaning, allowing tricky pathogens no place for purchase. In one rounded corner a raised area served as his bed, upon it a cellulose-stuffed mattress clad in paper sheets. In another stood a surprisingly strong cardboard table atop which rested the picked-over remains of a carefully-portioned meal served on a paper plate. Vertical paper blinds were drawn over a prison-grade window of inches-thick, laminated glass shared with a treatment room on the other side. By his side: a few books from home for company; reassuring notes from his parents – they as clueless as he.
Udon had always been slightly pessimistic by nature, unusual for a child so young, encumbered with the feeling that some doom or other waited close by and just out of sight even if he'd never been aware of it enough to articulate. Never had he imagined that it would turn out to be 'something in his blood'; something that not even his mother, a child of Water Country refugees, had known.
Huh? he wondered curiously, chin rising, as a muffled sound registered in his ears and broke his reverie - a siren's wail. It would, he realized, have to be quite loud to penetrate this sanctum. Suddenly there was someone at the outer vestibule. Strange that it wasn't medical-ninja. Udon could tell at once since they always took their time, came in teams of at least two, dressed in disposable, white coveralls and goggles, and carried tanked oxygen. This man was in a desperate hurry and wore only janitorial blues. Through the glass panels, Udon watched the figure bull his way through the first door, struggle to force it closed behind him faster than its pneumatics would allow, then hit the 'hands-free' touch pad for the interior door.
Air hissed as the seals unclenched and the door opened, flooding the room with the siren's warbling scream. The man, tall, black-haired, lean and dragging a backpack, flung himself inside then threw his weight against the door to force it closed behind him. Digging frantically into his pack, he produced a diagonal brace of heavy steel pre-cut for the purpose, set it against the door and expansion-anchored it into place with a pair of painfully-loud percussive pops that made Udon's hands race to cover his ears. Angry faces appeared at the door, mouths opened with shouts, hands waiving, fists pounding. All became obscured in a few seconds as the man found spray paint and soon had the glass panels completely covered in a coat of drippy, vivid green.
Through a dispersing fog of pigment and VOCs, Ibisu-sensei whirled around and beamed. "YOU," he crowed and pointed, "are not an easy guy to see!" He paused then, arms akimbo, his grin white, wide and toothy like a superhero incarnate.
"Hi, Konohamaru," Udon replied glumly and dabbed at his leaking nose.
Releasing his jutsu, the now gap-toothed ten-year old startled. "How'd you know it was me?!"
The boy blew out a breath then pushed his round glasses further up his nose. "Who else?"
"You know, I always knew you were bad-ass," Konohamaru went on with a professorial air as he sauntered forward, adjusted the hang of his absurdly long scarf then threw himself down beside Udon unaffected by his friend's unhappy and unwelcoming attitude, "I just didn't know how until now."
Udon shook his head and folded his arms tightly across his narrow chest. "You shouldn't be here. You'll just get in trouble."
"Like I care about that." The dark-haired boy did a double-take at the prisoner's crisp and crinkly paper uniform, the elastic gathers at the wrists, ankles and waist. "Is that what they gave you to wear?"
"I'm serious, Konohamaru!" said Udon in a strained tone. "I'm…I'm dangerous. I hurt people, made them sick; Chuuya, Moegi and you too."
The intruder frowned. "Oh, give me a break. We've been hanging out since forever. I think I can survive a little longer. Look, Udon, nothing's changed. You got a kekkei-genkai is all…like the Uchiha and the Hyuuga. How awesome is that?!"
"Their kekkei-genkai are awesome. Mine…"
"Oh, yeah? YOU took out a whole class, Iruka AND Ibisu-sensei too - a chunin and a jonin! No ten-year old Uchiha or Hyuuga ever did that. Well…a couple came close."
Udon fell quiet, teeth clenched. He turned and glared, his normally sad, basset-hound eyes as grave as they'd even been. "Why are you here?" he hissed in near-accusation.
"I…c-come on, Udon," muttered Konohamaru, taken-aback by the look in his unofficial teammate's eyes. "They just took you and locked you up. I had to see you. I was going to break you out of here but there's just no -."
"Why!? How does this help me?" Udon countered, his voice cresting. "Is Lady Tsunade just going to let me go now? Am I fixed now…all better? How does your showing off again help me?"
"I…what do you mean? I had to try; I had to see you. You're my friend."
Udon flinched dismissively. "You still got Moegi and you can always get yourself a new 'friend'."
For long seconds Konohamara was struck silent; the life drained from his face. "Ok, what are you talking about?"
"Oh, come ON! You know exactly what I'm talking about!" railed Udon shrilly, face flushing pink, eyes watering. He side-armed his handkerchief across the room. "Why me?! Why would the great 'honorable grandson' ever hang out with someone like me – unpopular, clumsy, nose running all the time like a baby's? 'Cause I always do what you want, go along with everything you say, 'cause I always let you be the leader. That's not friendship. I'm not your friend, Konohamaru; I'm your flunky! See the difference? There's bound to be someone else around like that and probably better than me."
Konohamaru sat stunned by Udon's tirade, stared back blankly at first in disbelief then glared, jaw tensed in reciprocal rage, his fists balled. After a moment, he cooled and slumped back against the epoxy-sheathed concrete.
"Maybe it was like that at first," he conceded quietly. "I got to be boss like my granddad was, like I'm supposed to be someday. I told you what we were gonna do and it's not like you seemed to mind…not very much anyway; Moegi minded but still ended up going along most of the time." Konohamaru couldn't help but smile slightly as he said that but it faded so quickly it was hard to catch. "I guess I never really thought about it. Maybe I should've.
"Look Udon, who knows how people get to be friends," he went on. "Maybe it's not like the way it was with us for everyone but it can't be that different either. I don't know. Every friendship's got to start somewhere! And I never, NEVER thought of you as my 'flunky'. You mean a lot to me, Udon. I wouldn't be here if you didn't." Another moment passed that seemed so much longer than it was. "And I don't like to show off that much."
Both boys sat quietly, pinned like trophy butterflies by the moment as various vaguely ominous rattles and clangs from the other room spoke of efforts to force the door open then, after those failed, moved to the window.
Udon's labored breath fell back into a softer, muted rhythm. Tears flowed. He swayed uncertainly and swallowed hard, not knowing what to say until: "What's going to happen to me, Konohamaru?"
The boy shook his head. "I don't know," he answered in undiluted honesty, "but I'm with you either way."
Naruto
Before Naruto knew it, he found himself outside with the whirlwind memory of the Coral Pavilion behind him and some really, really sketchy idea about how they were going to save the Mist Village ahead. He'd been on some weird missions before but never one so massively confusing or with so much at stake; it was enough to make his head explode!
After Haku had vanished into that crazy, haunted pagoda, Naruto and the three blood-gifted ninja had tried to follow him and somehow had gotten lost. When they'd found him again, Haku was with Shikamaru, his team from Konoha and some weird-looking guy with no legs. Now he was supposed to go with Haku while Shikamaru and everyone else went to Lord Nikai's flotilla where they would eventually rendezvous. It was all too much too soon to even begin to make sense of - why Shikamaru didn't at least try to drag him right back to the Leaf Village; who was this Okino-guy and why would Haku and Shikamaru trust him? For that matter - where were he and Haku going and what were they supposed to do when they got there?
Burning in the young ninja's mind on top of all of that was the idea that he hadn't exactly done much to contribute to the success of this mission so far. In many ways, he'd just ended up making things worse like wrecking a big chunk of the Mist Village he was trying to help save, being abducted by Rahaman and again by Grandpa Hirai, having his journey to Kirigakure discovered which had lead Shikamaru and his team here, and then the Akatsuki who surely wouldn't have come if not for him.
Something he'd said or done before had really made Haku mad too, madder than Naruto had ever seen him, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what. All things considered that was a pretty minor point but that didn't stop it from bothering him more than it should. "So…what's the plan?" Naruto ventured, as much to divert his own bewildered mind as out of curiosity.
Haku looked off distractedly at their surroundings, brushing back a stray ribbon of black hair from his face. From the moment they'd stepped from the Coral Pavilion, the towering edifice had evanesced out from around them – building, lake, walkways and all, leaving the pair in an expansive but desolate courtyard sandwiched between Friary Hill's tenement buildings, strewn with wild grass, scraps of trash and broken bricks. With most of Kirigakure's people having been evacuated to emergency shelters, hospitalized or killed in the ongoing so-called plague, the place was eerily empty. Soft winds whistled over the rooftops – a lonely sound broken only here and there with the flapping of bird wings or the riot of their raucous calls.
"You're not still mad at me are you?" the blond ninja asked bluntly.
Haku shook his head then continued with his appraisal of the openings into various streets and alleyways though none seemed any more promising than another. "No," the willowy teenager answered, "Master Okino manipulated my reaction before in order to draw me to him, that's all."
Naruto's eyes narrowed as he frowned. He hated when people put him off. "Was it 'cause I wanted to fight Itachi and Kisame?" In hindsight, that idea did seem pretty stupid.
"There's that," Haku agreed as he started moving briskly toward the mouth of a narrow street, "as it happens though, you'll get your wish."
The genin puzzled over the taller boy's answer just to see if it still meant what he thought it did after he'd thought about it for a moment. "Wait, what?!" He hurried after Haku, his booted feet slapping over the paving stones.
His companion nodded soberly. "The simple fact is that the Akatsuki's ability to seek is far greater than ours is to hide. They've found us already, see?" Mid-stride, Haku canted his head toward a clutch of birds roosting on a parapet up above.
Naruto looked in the direction his partner indicated then shrugged. "Crows," he remarked, "so what?"
"Their eyes are his. I really should have noticed that before. Look harder."
Naruto squinted and did, his nose wrinkling, just as one of the ebon-feathered birds turned its head in raptorial profile to reveal the full orb of its eye - blazing red, swirling with three tomoe teardrops of black, the unmistakable gaze of the Sharingan.
The blond jumped, the expression on his whisker-marked face congealing reflexively. This was just too weird…and not a little bit scary! "W-what are we supposed to do?"
"We'll have to fight them. Master Okino saw this as inevitable."
Naruto shot Haku a look, raced up beside him and shot it again so the ninja would see it. Whatever he'd been thinking before, fighting Itachi and Kisame did NOT sound like a very good idea now. Itachi had taken down a furious Sasuke with ridiculous ease and hospitalized Kakashi-sensei before that! "Didn't you say that fighting them was crazy?"
"I did," Haku confirmed then reiterated with an air of resignation, "It is, but that's beside the point. We have so much to do and it seems unlikely that our hunters will wait until we're through." He gave a thoughtful frown. "We should still make every effort to avoid them in case Master Okino's mistaken but in the meantime we have to hurry because we're running out of time."
Naruto slowed his pace as his yellow brows knitted in thought. There was one alternative. It was not 'they' the Akatsuki were hunting.
"Naruto," Haku interrupted without turning. "Shikamaru developed the plan we're following and Master Okino claims it's our best chance to save Kirigakure as well as to survive ourselves. That's all we have to go on. That said, I hope you'll refrain from doing anything especially rash."
Naruto startled. Was Haku reading his mind now? An instant later the young ninja crossed his arms and grimaced, grumbling to himself that his friend would just assume he'd do something rash which was really just another word for stupid. "Fine," he offered in blunt petulance, "what's the next part of this 'plan'?"
"We must find Mei Terumi and convince her to come with us."
"What for?"
"Because with the Mizukage dead and Councilors Hirai and Inoue absent, she is in charge. She has the authority to represent the Mist Village in all affairs including negotiations. If she comes to terms with Lord Nikai then by its own laws Kirigakure is bound to honor them." The teenager broke from his schoolteacher-ish explanation to chuckle gravely, "For however long it suits them anyway but it will give us more time which is our real goal."
Naruto nodded, noting nervously that the birds Haku and he had spied before were very clearly following them now – letting them walk a ways before flapping ahead – and not even bothering to be very subtle about it. "Ok," the leaf-ninja allowed, "but I thought there was no way Nikai would settle for anything less than destroying Kirigakure completely. He's got those boats full of rockets ready to fire. Do you really think there's anything she can do to get him to stop?"
"I don't know," answered Haku with a shrug. "At this point we have to take it one thing at a time, assemble the pieces first and then force them to fit."
"Well what if Mei won't come with us?"
Haku paused distinctly before regaining his stride, forcing his friend to follow suit. "One way or the other, Naruto, she must," said Zabuza's former student. "The entire plan, shaky as it is, hinges on it. If she won't come willingly then we shall have to encourage her."
Naruto's brow knitted at the emphasis in Haku's tone – again a reminder that the things ninjas were called upon to do were often not very nice. The boy didn't know Mei well but enough to consider her a decent person. He hadn't ever seen her fight either but suspected from the way others deferred to her that forcing her to do anything wouldn't be that easy. He hated that Haku felt like he had to explain it, even more because it illustrated the hazy, unwelcome distance that lay between them at times – greater even, maybe, than the one that lay between him and Sasuke.
But Haku had, after all, been for most of his life a disciple of Zabuza Momochi, the Demon of the Hidden Mist and a tyrant in the ninja-world – a world ruled by force and sacrifice where life had little value. Though Haku himself was, at heart, the polar opposite of that, he still came from that world. Could he ever fully repudiate it?
The yellow-haired boy's breath quickened. "No," Naruto countered firmly and so sharply that Haku turned towards him with one slender eyebrow raised, "we'll find a different way, a better way if it comes to that!"
Haku blinked, somewhat dumbfounded but didn't argue. Naruto wasn't sure if that indicated agreement or not which weighed on him for a little while as they walked but it didn't last long. They had come to Kirigakure originally to kill a man in order to save a village, and Naruto, in deference to Haku being more 'wise and experienced', had gone along with it. In the end, Haku had not followed through. He'd found that better way all on his own.
Though the future seemed packed with nothing but trouble and uncertainty, Naruto's lips curved into a confident smile. They were on the right path whatever lay ahead and that was all that mattered.
Moving on towards where Naruto remembered having left Mei and her cranky, cyclopean shadow, Captain Ao, Kirigakure's claustrophobic alleyways seemed to grow even quieter as if in expectation of the confrontation to come. The two teenagers travelled purposefully though half-expecting Itachi and Kisame to jump out from behind every corner or pool of shadow at any moment like the bogeymen they kind of were. Of course the pair made a full effort to lead their trackers astray. They'd wandered into buildings only to send shadow or water clones back out in their place – a reprise of the trick Naruto had played before to elude Aya. Haku tried his Hidden Mist jutsu, and both tried mixing their clone and transformation jutsus and other techniques in various ways but always to no avail. No matter how clever or intricate their strategies, always they found themselves back under the watchful Sharingan gaze of Itachi's raptors and decided in the end to save their chakra, knowing they'd need it sooner rather than later.
Haku stopped suddenly.
"What is it?" asked Naruto but he knew already that the moment had come.
The taller ninja motioned for silence then knelt to touch the ground. "Do you feel that," he looked up sharply, "rumbling?" There was no need to ask now. Pebbles danced. Windows quivered in their frames. Haku looked up, his expression alarmed. "Get ready," he urged, "they're coming." And then: "Of course, why would they bother sneaking up on us."
Harsh caws raked the quiet then as the cohort of ravens that had been following them steadily took flight only to be joined almost immediately by the thousands more that had been hiding just out of sight behind buildings and water towers, turning the grey skies black in an explosion of beating wings.
Naruto crouched, putting his hands over his ears against the riot of shrill, grating cries then met Haku's gaze as the teenager looked again at him, his expression at once dire and apologetic. They whirled just as twin walls of white-foamed water crashed down from the pair of alleyways behind them. Sharing the briefest of glances, the two fled but had only gone a few steps before another tsunami roared down on them from the direction they were headed.
Haku
The water overcame them with all the power of the ocean and the deliberate viciousness of a predatory, living thing, swallowing the pair whole, lashing each a thousand times. Haku slammed against the pavement, was again engulfed then carried hard into a wall. Water was his element and would always avoid harming him but these waves were motived by a dark and powerful chakra whose guidance overruled its natural inclinations – Kisame's handiwork.
Over and over he struggled in the churn that took him tumbling, racing through Kirigakure's alleys until finally, using his balance, chakra and the affinity for water and air afforded him by his kekkei-genkai, Haku found a dead-spot in the turbulence, fought his way to the top of the battering waves, gathered his energy then leaped for a rooftop as he flew by. Gagging and half-blinded, soaked to the bone, his eyes stinging with salt water, the teenager felt his feet strike and he stumbled forward, spitting out brine. At once he flung himself back, staggering toward the parapet to look for Naruto.
"Naruto!" he shouted at the surging, boiling waves that rose to the sound of his voice, turning back at him like a pack of angry dogs, leaping and biting – the white froth of their caps like rabid foam on snapping jaws. Startled, Haku drew back, watching in a kind of horrified wonderment as the torrent made another try for him then went still and began to drain calmly away. His expression flickered as he hopped to the top of the parapet, cupped his hands to his mouth and again shouted for his younger friend. "Naruto!" he cried, fearing that the genin had perhaps given himself up to the Akatsuki in exchange for Haku's freedom. Okino had warned him about that. Curses flowed in his mind, still he tried again: "Na-!"
This time the slender shinobi's voice caught in his throat as he felt a presence rise up behind him even before its owner's sepulchral voice offered in greeting: "Hello, Haku."
The Demon's Apprentice turned slowly, his blood turning to ice. There was something inexpressible in that voice that you felt rather than heard, that made you keenly aware it belonged to no normal man - the voice of a soulless killer. Haku's eyes swept deliberately low along the rooftop then settled on a pair of grey, toeless boots, white gaiters, the bottom edge of a fuligin-black cloak lined and piped with red, blazing crimson clouds bordered in silver. He dared not look higher than that for what it might cost him.
"Since you're avoiding my eyes so assiduously I presume you know who I am or perhaps Naruto informed you," said Itachi Uchiha. "I wonder if you figured out that tactic on the spur of the moment or from having encountered my foolish little brother."
Haku bit his lip and tried to keep his breath from racing, his muscles from tensing as he watched the infamous Akatsuki's boots shift. Beads of salt-water crept down his face, pooled at his chin and dripped. Confronting the two arch-criminals was part of Shikamaru and Okino's plan, a part that had seemed suicidal even in the abstract. Now that he was here it seemed so much more so.
"Given the wealth of your experience, young Demon's Apprentice, you must have guessed what we've come for. Interestingly, though not surprisingly, my colleague Kisame wishes to test himself against the Nine-Tails alone. Assuming he prevails, and I see no reason he shouldn't, that leaves me on the sidelines. So what I'm telling you is that unless you have your heart set on interfering there's no reason for us to fight which is fine with me." The voice lifted. "You could consider it a courtesy from one member of the 'Bingo Book' to another.
"No, eh? Ah, that's what I thought," said Itachi not more than a heartbeat later, leaving Haku to wonder if the nuances of his expression were really so transparent, the Sharingan so perceptive, or if it was only because snow had started to fall. "No hard feelings. I understand and even wish you luck," the Uchiha continued, and Haku would've sworn that he could hear the chilling smile. "I had friends myself once."
Haku dropped sharply, throwing himself violently backwards off the rooftop as a clutch of shuriken whistled past his face. Mid-way down, with the air rushing past, he spread his arms and legs into the blast of wind he'd summoned to slow his fall and check the Uchiha from letting loose with the incinerating fire-jutsu Haku felt certain was next.
Better gain some distance, he thought as he landed in a crouch then, for a moment, spared a hope that Naruto could hold his own against Kisame at least for a short time. But Itachi was already upon him, appearing from a blur of movement, sword drawn and slashing. Desperately, Haku evaded, warding with bundles of senbon in either hand. Metal rang as Haku fell back, feinted then let loose with a behind-the-back flight of needles toward the Uchiha's face and again for the tops of his feet but the notorious jonin danced aside and avoided them with ease.
Stupid! Haku castigated himself. Those were moves he'd used with notable success in the past but never against opponents anywhere near Itachi's caliber.
Staying close, the Uchiha's blade whirled, its point flashed. Were it not for Haku's grace, a product of his youth and years of tortuous training, coupled with the lingering experiences he'd gained from having shared his being with forty-seven ninja legends, he'd be many times dead already. Even as it was he doubted that Itachi was fighting him with anything more than a casual effort and he was glad for that. If he was to prevail at all it would have to be by relying on the Akatsuki's overconfidence and taking him by surprise.
Despite Okino's pledges of help, Haku really didn't like his odds.
