Year 1 AK Hidden Village of the Mist

Never let it be said that the Mizukage's guards weren't good at their job, cock-blocking idiots that they are. It has been a full week since the Sandaime - Hiroshima -spoke to the Konoha delegation or any delegation. This fact has led to several complaints. Some of the more violently inclined Cloud and Rain nin finding themselves in contempt and thus incarcerated. However, such a little thing as possible incarceration wasn't going to deter Kakashi. Not after finding that letter on Hiashi's person - all the more galling considering how close he might have been just earlier that day. 'Tori-chan indeed.'

The only thing left to do after sending off missives by dog, insect, bird, and shadow clone relay aside from descending into the P.O. zone is to wring some information out of the Mizukage whoever the hell he might be. Of course, Kakashi would be just as happy wringing his neck. However, between the Mist council's rush treatment of negotiation (Ibiki's stalling non-withstanding) and the Sandaime's Houdini aspirations it didn't look like anything would get done before they had to return to Konoha. "I am not going anywhere until I see Kabuto!" A hand grasps Kakashi's shoulder spinning him around.

A youngish man somewhere amid his mid-twenties stares down the irate fourteen year-old before him. "And who exactly is "Kabuto"? There is no one in this residence by that name." Forgetting his training, forgetting his pride, ignoring the sheer stupidity of spouting off at an unknown shinobi, one who can sneak up on him no less, Kakashi responds with a nice loud, "Bullshit!" His rage is punctured seconds later when the man laughs brightly. "It is not "bullshit" little man. You have my word as Kawakarai Tanko the Yondaime of Mist." 'Shit. Nice one Kakashi, can you say diplomatic incident?'

Hands held before him as sweat runs down his nape he stutters, "But, but Kabuto was the Sandaime and he's only like my age or something. What happened to him?" The Yondaime smiles tiger-lily eyes malevolent. "The Sandaime was Amebanzan Kunzankai of Mist and she died at the battle of Lowland defeating the Old regime. It is her we have to thank for Mist's current progression into the future. Now if you excuse me, I have much to do." Left speechless Kakashi watches the Yondaime walk away with his two guards. As they round the corner, he vanishes to tell the others.

A week later, the delegation streaks back toward the east almost eager to embrace the relative honesty of battle. They are uneasy however having received no replies to their missives. So much so, they must restrain themselves least they end up exhausted in unfriendly territory. Shibiki continues to emit a low humming a sure sign of agitation. He dashes forward to lope with Hiashi. "Hiashi-sama, why does Jiraiya-dono toy with us as he does?" The question is asked so quietly it is almost unheard. Still everyone listens intently. There is a profound quiet as they ghost through another patch of mist. When it is passed, Hiashi speaks. "Jiraiya-sama was my friend and brother, a feeling I still believe is reciprocated." No one dares look at Hizashi and the marks still apparent on his neck.

Things are quiet again as they enter a pass; they are too close to a still angry Iwa. In time Hiashi speaks again, a small frown upon his brow. "In my time with him I feel I have gained some measure of insight of him. His devotion to Konoha and its people is without measure or doubt. Watching him wear himself out for Konoha is what motivated me and still does." Before Kakashi can speak Asuma does. "He's a strategist by nature so everything is a kind of game to him. He isn't so much toying with us as he's playing a game on a playing field entirely over our heads." Hizashi snorts a hard smile on his face, "Yeah he's a strategist alright and an asshole who loves pranks. A massively brilliant, hopelessly ruthless asshole of a prankster. Now everyone shut up so we can concentrate on getting home." In contemplative silence, they race toward home and war.

'You are soo cute!' Naruto is an active baby with a sweet temper, however he is far more quiet then Jiraiya would like. "Is his caregiver taking good care of him? Should I have simply taken him with me?" Sarutobi leans wearily against the wall. "This is his home Jiraiya." 'And yours.' The twilight dim nursery seems to drop quickly in temperature as Naruto snuggles closer to Jiraiya's warm, familiar chest. "Not much of a home, is it little man?" They stay in their relative positions while Naruto settles down. Eventually the child is replaced in his crib. "So let's have a chat old man." The sick grin on his student's face creates a frown on his own. "Yes, come to my office."

This office never changed, well no. Its scent changed: tobacco exchanged for juniper and ink replaced by tobacco and age covered by sake and antiseptics. The feelings too; so loud sometimes they resembled color schemes. If the mood right now were a color, it'd be indigo or maybe the shading of summer twilight. He can feel the watchers waiting for him to misstep. It's understandable since it's already possibly he's taken down a kage-level opponent, maybe two besides an army and four of the swordsmen. The clock ticks as Jiraiya watches the clouds stream toward a distant battlefield and Sarutobi watches his face. By the sannin's count, there are five Anbu around this office besides five more at what should be the edge of his awareness. Strange he thought Yamato came later in Orochi's career - shouldn't he have never been created? Hmm, oh well it doesn't matter really.

"Why?" A raised eyebrow. "Why not?" The shinobi formerly thought the strongest of all shinobi sighs his eyes closed tiredly. His wayward student fingers the rosary Hidan gave him. The jet-black beads remind him of all the sins he has committed in the name of 'good'. "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." His teacher eyes him intently, "Good? Is that what you believe?" Hidan is an odd man… and now they're in the same boat. Immortal for all intentions and purposes. "Where did I go wrong to create such a thing as you?!"

'Thing?' The look on his face is a war between incredulous amusement and incredulous rage. It seems amusement is at the foreground. "I've got a better question for you - where did you go wrong with Orochi and Tsuande?" The bearish man stands his hands braced against the large desk before him. With nary a flicker his hedge drops revealing a man who still appears fifteen. At the same time, a great pressure fills the room. 'His chakra! It's - it's unbelievable!' To his credit, the old man doesn't flinch even when no help immediately comes.

Jiraiya's smile promises no mercy and plenty of pain if he is pushed much further. The time-displaced ninja knows where his sensei's thoughts run. 'This isn't how things were supposed to go.' But how dare this stupid old bastard call him a thing with the monster Orochi become and the bitch Tsuande was - is. "What are you thinking about?" The glaze of inner contemplation leaves the toad summoner's eyes revealing a depth of bitterness that leaves Sarutobi stunned. 'What happened Jiraiya?!'

The young man before him is nearly animalistic in appearance. Sharp, strong teeth gleam in a predatory grin. "I'll tell you old man. You and this whole damn village are obsessed with names, bloodlines, and "geniuses". Orochi was smart, too smart but you let him get away with murder because of it. We both know about the lab if Yamato being outside is any indication." Before the Hokage can speak the Traitor of Konoha begins to chuckle darkly. Soon he's laughing fit to burst his eyes leaking tears. "Worse then that Tsuande is the relation of "royalty" so you and the dumbass council spoiled the little bitch. Now you've got a corpse, a quitter, and me -the fucking traitor. Aren't you proud sensei?"

That isn't true, isn't completely true. Unfortunately, it's all close enough. Those considered prodigies or possessive of bloodlines like the Uchiha or the Hyuuga were set apart. Still he wasn't… he was fair. Wasn't he? He wants to say he isn't the blind old fool Jiraiya paints him as instead he hears himself say, "Better dead or gone then a megalomaniac monster like you!" Now the pressure increases the chakra latent with a powerful bloodlust. So much so it's a wonder no one else can feel it, that no one else is coming. "Fool did you think I couldn't sense them?! That I wouldn't prevent their entry?!" 'His voice is so cold, so soulless. This isn't my student.'

Jiraiya stands before the window again. 'So fast.' "Am I a traitor Sarutobi?" As Sandaime, he cannot feel sympathy for such an obvious danger. As this man's sensei, as a fellow human being he cannot help wanting to reach out to someone who sounds so sad. Somehow, though it's hard to think past the need to survive. The boyish face is inches from his own. "Do you know any toad summoners besides myself? Who holds the snake summons contract other then me? What seals masters are there besides us? Maybe your age is finally getting to you old man." Somehow, he's able to speak, "What kind of games are you playing?"

The aged Hokage pants his face burning with shame at his weakness. The pressure, the chakra, the bloodlust are gone. So apparently is Jiraiya, but appearances mean nothing when dealing with Jiraiya. "What kind of games are you playing damnit?!" The voice comes from behind him and for all it's sadness, all it's composure it might have been the child he remembers. "…The kind where no body really wins. Call it life Sasuke. Call it life." The clock resumes ticking as shouts arise. The door slams open jarring him from his thoughts. Sarutobi quickly looks down to hide the tears in his lavender eyes. "Hokage-sama are you okay?!" Giddy with the surrealism of it all he has to actually bite his tongue not to erupt in laughter like Jiraiya did. Even biting down so hard he swallows blood he can't control the crooked smile on his face. "Okay? Hmph no, but that never mattered before."

He knows Hiashi and Hizashi have instituted a procedure for his clandestine visits here. The minute his chakra touches the premises, every active byakugan is turned off or powered down drastically. He knows this in the same way the Anbu Windfall is known to show favoritism in protecting Hyuuga on the battlefield, and elsewhere. With the political clout, Jiraiya wields as Windfall the Hyuuga have gained a significant foothold in the political realm one they wish not to jeopardize. Besides which the majority of Hyuuga have never viewed the brash, vibrant prankster as anything but loyal. And God help the ones who disagree - they'll be medical cases long before the Twins get to them.

Making his way to a certain building Jiraiya goes to check on his 'niece' Haranaru - Hizashi's half-sister by clan law. Despite being a branch member, her mainline father loves her dearly and so certain allowances are made for her… and her chronic sickness. If Jiraiya ever came close to an uncomplicated love, it stemmed from his devotion to this little slip of a child. The affairs of the Hyuuga are the affairs of the Hyuuga. It is for this reason only that Anbu do not lie in wait for him here after the events in the tower. 'Ah, she's asleep.'

"No, I'm not." Her huge blue eyes open wide staring him down, daring him to leave. "Where have you been uncle?" Still hedge less with one hand scratching the back of his head and the other in his pocket you'd think all the rumors were lies. He looks like an innocent kid you know? She smiles with a good-natured eye roll. "Get over here idiot." Kicking off his sandals, he's in the wide bed before she can blink. "Ah, so fast Jira-koi! I wanted to make this last!" The entirely overdone pout is ridiculous on her too young, too thin face. "Oh, it'll last…" His patented pervert face does the trick of making her chuckle. The accompanying creepy laughter has her in hysterics.

"Hush! You'll get me kicked out!" She ignores him opting instead to bury her giggles in his chest. Eventually her giggles subside into snickers and then quiet. They cuddle content to doze in the lull. The clock ticks quietly in the corner as footsteps tread quietly outside the door. They are carefully spaced and deliberately placed - the gait of an active elder. 'Ama.' "Howe are they treating you little girl?" The wisp of a girl snuggles closer, "fine… You're so warm." The arm he has around her shoulders tightens marginally as he forces his voice to be casual. "Am I little bit?"

Haranaru shrugs eyes still closed the blue veins stark against the bloodless skin. "Yeah, but then I'm always cold." Just like she's always sick. "Hmm." The clock keeps ticking, time as an engine of perpetual motion. Haranaru is very frail beneath his hands. "Uncle?" Her long fingers trace wasp paths against his collar. The voice she uses is entirely too innocent. Raising an eyebrow, he waits her out. "Why did you leave uncle?" His own fingers are gentle in their tracing of her brow, her crown, the curve of her jaw. "Because it was a better choice then staying."

The room is quiet only her trying to breath through what should be sobs with him almost humming a tone. Her fingers grasp his shirt and slowly begin to tighten. "Why?" From humming to offbeat whistling. "Because." She's looking him dead in the face pouting like a child despite being sixteen. When he smiles, she snorts and buries her pretty face deep into his chest. "I didn't catch that." Speaking louder she repeats herself, "because isn't a reason". He smiles his eyes happy little crescents. They are quiet listening to each other breath as the clock ticks. "It's reason enough." She doesn't hear him, lying fast asleep on his chest. He lets her sleep releasing the mild genjutsu he placed on her. The ticking ceases. She won't really remember this - it's for the best. Ama pasts through again followed by the fast tread of a well-trained toddler. His signal to go as he eases Haranaru off him.

"Daddy, daddy!" Neji hops about his father. "Daddy, uncle came to visit." Hizashi pauses briefly to pick up his son before continuing on as Neji prattles at him. "Uncle left 'Nata a doll and me a puppet. He said that with my natural control I could be a brilliant puppet master. Can I daddy?" 'Of course not the council would have a fit.' "I'm sure you could little one. Did uncle leave anything else?" The little boy frowns and then brightens, "Yes. 'The wind blows, the mirror breaks. The mirror glares, the moon is born of lake.' He said you'd 'figure it out' sooner or later. Can I practice my puppet now?"

One again Hiashi examines the not in his hand. 'The wind blows, the mirror breaks. The mirror glares, the moon is born of the lake.' He then thinks over the note Hinata's doll held. 'The wind speaks, the scarred plans. Reflections of plans crack.' 'Who is the wind?' The wind bows and speaks. The scarred plans. Reflections of plans crack while mirrors break and glare. The moon is born of lake. 'The wind… Fukagu…' Hiashi snaps his attention to his shadow. "Brother we have to keep a closer eye on the Uchiha."

It's late and his hands quake with fatigue and in-held rage. 'It was you uncle. I should have killed you.' The world tilts as he sets his kunai on the bedside table. "Hello, Hatake-san." Spinning around he comes face to face with a man he has never met. He looks to be maybe only a few years older then Kakashi's fourteen maybe seventeen or eighteen. "Who are you?" The intruder flashes a contemptuous smile as his eyes shift to sharingan-red. Three tomoes morphing into shuriken-like shapes. "My name is Itachi." Faster then should be possible 'Itachi's' hand holds him up against the wall by his throat. "Allow me to introduce you to my Mangekyo Sharingan. Tsukuyomi!"

They stand beneath a pure white sky. They don't look too far apart in age. The younger practically vibrates with hatred, his hands sporadically clenching. "You bastard!" His voice is a low, dark whisper as he begins oozing a thick miasma of killing intent. 'I can't fight him like this. I have to control myself.' Staring up at the sky, an overlapping picture of pink and white like carnations, he bites his tongue until he tastes blood. Jiraiya's laughter doesn't help, "You're still just a child: a weak little boy born of a weak little man while I am a man. I am a sannin and the teacher of your former sensei." 'Former teacher, but sensei… sensei would hate him now.' It's not really true sensei would never hate Jiraiya no matter what he had done. "I hate you."

The sky is grey as he stands on a small hill holding the demon brat who is quiet at least. He would like to strangle the damn thing would like to wrap his strong fingers around the small, pink neck. The entire village stands beside the river as chrysanthemum rain down upon a river the grey-blue of his eyes and the burning pyre that floats upon it. 'Sensei.' He holds the child closer to him trying not to recongize the pretty, blue eyes. Looking down he see they are lilac instead of blue and now he is holding the child under water watching the bubbles stream beneath the floating petals. He feels it stop moving and can't feel anything until the spreading cold hits his belly triggering his vomit reflex.

"No." The smell of vomit chokes him his mask a bagginess around his neck, dew soaking into his pants fabric. He feels weak, feels nauseated - it has to be a genjutsu, but it's not one he can break. A foot connects with his face sending him spinning into a tree. Too fast - not even his sharingan can see - when did he reveal his sharingan? Can't think-too fast. He can smell the pine sap from the damaged trees, the trampled needles. Can hear the needles underfoot see the world in tow-tone color scheme of red and true color. The black, white world a memory now. "Jiraiya was never this good, who are you 'Itachi'?! And why are you wearing that traitor's face?!"

The tall man laughs his white, white teeth flashing as brightly as his hair. "Traitor? Why because I killed a butcher?" The teenager is able to stand now trying to ignore the itching in his gifted eye. "Yeah, you slit his throat in his sleep." Bright, white teeth like something from a fever dream, "Did I or did I?" Kakashi sees confusion in the amber eyes and revels in it because in his hand is a sword. Is fascinated by it as the knife in his hand flashes. Exhales, holds his breath delivering the blow, the strike. The blood on his hand, on his chest, on his thighs. A pale face he doesn't know staring back at him, a pale face frozen forever in hatred. His head hurts seeing two entirely different versions of the same thing and neither matches what he thought he knew. It's all messy, bloody, and quite satisfying.

Kakashi vomits on the green, green grass beneath a white sky. The feel of cloth on his back calms him, his hands are still clean. He's not- he's not… "Monster." The smirking man before him is not the cheerful uncle he though he remembered. "Says the brat who left his teammates to die." He's up before he knows it running heedlessly at the bastard who would dare, dare speak those words aloud. He's on his knees again before he knows it. The newly entitled copy-nin squeezes his eyes shut in preparation, but nothing happens.

Opening his eyes he meets the crushed, eyeless face of his 'friend' and behind him he can still hear that long scream so far beyond anything simple flesh should produce. A soul scream he has been hearing everyday since Obito died and as the blood runs down his throat, he finally realizes it's coming from him. Jiraiya stands behind him nudging the corpse at his feet, the brown-haired corpse named Rin. "I would've thought Arashi would do better then this - how disappointing. Oh well, at least you made it!" That heartless smile will never leave his mind. There is a burning in Kakashi's stolen eye as he feels the need to destroy his tormenter sweep through him. Unthinking he pushes more chakra into his eye manifesting a third coma in it. Before him Jiraiya's face seems to soften with something like pride. 'Good work brat, but we aren't done yet."

The bloodlust is on him now and any lesser details like a godfather's odd behavior is ignored. "You killed your teammate and dared to push this into my face?!" His voice cracks with emotion sharingan tearing up with rage. An elbow bashes into his teeth sending him flying. A follow up misses him however as his improved sharingan rescues him from the situation. "You don't know anything kid. I killed Orochimaru for reasons you'll never be able to wrap your head around." At last, the fourteen-year-old smiles- 'I've finally gotten under his skin." "Really? Try me old man."

A fist catches him in the temple laying him out on the ground badly stunned. Jiraiya, stands between him and the sky, the sun a halo behind him. He knows without looking that this is their old training ground. "Would you have preferred I let him live? To raze this village and kill the Third?!" They are at the old stadium a top a roof a purple box blocking Anbu. He is fighting his limbs pale and boneless. A hand is in his chest pulling him and sweat pours down his brow. The Sandaime is bleeding badly a sword through his chest, his hands clutching his shoulder hard enough to bruise. "Just die already!" Enma lies on the ground his hand bleeding badly as he grips the sword in front of the hilt. "I will take your precious jutsu.", the monster behind the old man swipes down with its great knife. Sarutobi falls and all he can do is scream from somewhere inside his head.

On his knees again trembling, quaking as he stares at his hands not quite believing they're okay. The cool voice behind him pebbles his skin. "Is that better? Ah, of course it is after all why shouldn't the old bastard die? How is it right for that relic to endure when your teacher died? In your mind, it should be your foolish sensei alive while the useless old bastard dies in his place." Abruptly Kakashi is on the rooftop again damning the old man with Orochi's voice - damning him and meaning every word of it. He's happy watching the old man's face crumble as he summons the dead Hokages; glad somewhere inside that the old man stopped the last before the Fourth could see him. Pulling the Grass cutter through the Sandaime watching the life drain away, watching him fall again and again… Somehow, it isn't as fun anymore - he realizes the Third isn't his enemy. Screaming, he clenches his head as though to keep it in one piece; it hurts more so then the living brand where his eye should be.

The earth is white. He drools as his normal eye rolls up into his empty head. Jiraiya stands by him arms folded and eyes distant. He hears his own voice say, "I will kill you." Inwardly he cringes knowing that is an incredibly stupid thing to say. The world is dancing as he stands panting like an overworked draft horse. "Can you?" The kunai in his hand gives no security. He wishes his hands would stop shaking. They both move, clash and it is instantly obvious who is the stronger of the two. Again and again and again, they engage and none of his hits are hurting much less killing his enemy even as he is coated in the life blood of his loved ones. He's tripping over their slain bodies now screaming unintelligibly through his tears. He killed them; he knows he killed them all.

It's strange; his headache is progressing into a virtual madness- on the one hand he is becoming berserk and on the other he is calmer then he's ever been. Madness but it's working - he is finally behind the old bastard is finally sliding his blade into him like the last perfect puzzle piece. 'But I had a kunai not a sword. I had-I had-' He slides the blade in and the white hair remains. The baggy clothes dwindle into silk and depression, but the white hair remains. Ignoring the changing body, the changing clothes he focuses on the white, white hair. Kicking over the body to see the face… "No." He falls to his knees fingers digging into his skull. "Nonononono. No!!!" He can't deal and the headache it's like… It stops and he feels empty unlike his 'gift' and the world through it. "Congratulations Kakashi, you have achieved your own version of the Mangekyo Sharingan. What powers it contains you'll have to figure out for yourself. Beware of who you let know about it, especially the Uchiha clan. I am sorry, goodbye."

Exhausted still he reaches out to the man by his door. Kabuto turns around a strange look in his eyes. "You can't just torture me and leave. At least tell me why, please tell me why." The gangly kid comes back and sits down on the hardwood floor. Gentle fingers stroke his face before pulling the headband back over the sharingan. "When I leave you will fall into a three day sleep during which time you will be taught all I know about this form of the Uchiha bloodline." He takes the hand Kakashi reaches toward his face and kisses it folding it in his. "As for why I did this I hope one day you'll understand that what I do, I do for you and so many others. I can't tell you more then that, except - do you know Itachi?" Sluggishly Kakashi shakes his head no - "He is strong, but even the strong can fracture if improperly used. When he fractures, when he breaks you will need these new levels. No go to sleep."

Tucking the boy into his narrow bed along with the newest copy of Icha Icha Paradise he takes his leave. A year from now Itachi will be a gennin; six years from the he'll slaughter the entire Uchiha with the exception of a Sasuke. That won't change no matter whatever else he does; some things are immutable. Until then Hiashi and Hizashi will have to keep watch along with Kakashi and probably Sarutobi. That washes his hands of the damnable Uchiha, now he has to deal with Akatsuki and thwarting their plans without getting caught in the crossfire. "Man, the shit you get your ass into."

End Chapter Five

Confused? Post a review for a personal reply or see the forum.

For the record it's only going to get more complicated from here on.

Next time in Chapter Six:

Betrayal, Hizashi's life, and Jinchiruki.