Chimera, Chapter 4: Little Girl
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
"To Mangetsu Hozuki I bequeath Hiramekarei, the Ruin."
Mangetsu took a knee and bowed his head low. Two ANBU shinobi set a wide lacquered box before him, and Yagura stepped forward to open it.
"Rise."
Mangetsu rose and reached into the box. The sword within was broad and thicker around than he was. Its double-handled grip was wrapped in oiled leather, and the blade itself was concealed by white dressing. He lifted the sword out of its case with some effort, but he managed to stand up straight and twirl the blade around to a vertical position. He then bowed to Yagura again.
"I am eternally at your service, Lord Mizukage," he said.
Yagura's lavender eyes flashed, and he smirked. "Of course."
Mangetsu retreated from the center of the platform to join Zabuza, who had just received Kubikiribouchou, the Executioner. A large crowd of shinobi and political aids was gathered this morning to bear witness to the birth of a new generation of Seven Swordsmen. The existing members stood in a line next to their newest comrades. Mangetsu looked like a child next to them despite his nearly sixteen years.
"Finally, to Ameyuri Ringo I bequeath Kiba, the Fangs."
Mei watched from the crowd as Ameyuri took a knee and bowed low to Yagura. As with Mangetsu, two ANBU presented Ameyuri with a lacquered box, though it was far smaller than the one that had housed Hiramekarei. Ameyuri received two swords, twin blades that were long and thin. She raised them up and slashed the air before her, and they sparked with blue electricity.
"I am eternally at your service, Lord Mizukage," she said.
Despite herself, Mei couldn't help but grin at the display. It must have taken all of Ameyuri's willpower to maintain the air of respect and not falter. She went to join the other Swordsmen as the seventh member.
"My loyal subjects," Yagura said. "I give you the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist."
Thunderous applause erupted from the gathered onlookers. For fifteen years, Mei had watched her former teammates sweat and struggle and bleed, all for this day. They were now among the highest ranking shinobi in the country. Utakata clapped beside her and joined in the cheering. He was now an entire head taller than her.
"Hey, why aren't you cheering? Those two idiots actually did it!" he said.
Mei grinned and tucked her hair behind an ear. She'd started to grow it out since her meeting with Pakura three years ago, and now it was down to her waist and tied back in a ponytail.
"Did you doubt them?" she asked.
He flashed her a bright smile. "Nah, but I'm surprised Ameyuri didn't screw up the formalities."
While Ameyuri and Mangetsu had gone on to become Swordsmen, Mei and Utakata had to follow the more traditional path to Jōnin. They were due for exams in the next couple of weeks. Things were getting easier, unbelievably. The Academy sometimes seemed like a bad dream. Mei scanned the crowd for the hundredth time, but he was nowhere to be seen. They'd talked about going to the ceremony together, and it was something close to his heart, she knew. But Kisame wasn't here, and she couldn't find the energy to cheer for the friends that were.
"I saw him here earlier," Utakata said. The mirth was gone from his expression as he studied his oldest friend. "He slipped away while Yagura was giving his speech."
"Did you see where he went?"
Utakata hesitated a moment, but she held his gaze, unwavering. "South, I think. Listen, Mei, you don't have to—"
"I'll see you later."
She turned on her heel and weaved her way through the crowd. Mangetsu and Ameyuri wouldn't miss her until later tonight when they would celebrate together. Once through the crowd, Mei broke into a jog and headed south of the village. She passed through the fishermen's ward with its red paper lanterns, extinguished at this hour of the day. Stray cats meowed as they pawed at buckets full of chum. Civilians stepped out of her way as she went, careful to keep their eyes averted at the sight of her Chuunin vest, but they stopped to watch her back as she passed. They did that more and more the older she got, especially the men. There was no more dirt under her fingernails, no more tangles in her hair or grime on her face. Utakata had said nothing over the years, but even he looked at her a little differently, like he couldn't remember her at first.
Beyond the fishermen's ward lay the beach and training grounds. They were deserted at this time of day due to the inauguration ceremony, all except for one. He just sat at the edge of the sea with his bare feet in the water and his pants rolled up to the knee.
"Way to stand me up," Mei said as she approached.
"I never said I'd go with you, kid."
She crossed her arms and stood next to him. He watched the horizon, and her shadow darkened half his face.
"I'm not a kid, Kisame. I'm fifteen."
He glanced at her askance and gave her a quick once-over. Her legs were bare under fishnet and shorts, skinny, like her arms. The Chuunin vest was a bit bulky on her given the male-dominated sizing. No point in making a line for women when there hardly existed any to need them.
He snorted. "Yeah, you sure are."
Mei rolled her eyes and sat down in the sand next to him. She untied her sandals and dipped her toes in the lapping waves. The water was cold this time of year, but she prefered the chill.
"What're you doing out here, anyway?"
Kisame remained perfectly still aside from his steady breathing. Over the years, she and Ganryū had watched his spars with Fuguki, and Mei liked to think the observation had helped her improve her own technique a bit. Kisame had always been the type to keep to himself, but he even showed her glimpses of himself once in a while.
She'd learned that he was an orphan. No one knew where his family had come from or if there were others like him out there, or if they did they never said. Kisame didn't care one way or the other. He was here, and that was that. She'd learned that the gill markings on his cheeks were not gills at all, but tattoos he'd had for as long as he could remember. Perhaps the only thing that had survived his heritage. But he neither dispelled rumors nor encouraged them. He simply didn't care what others thought or didn't think, least of all her.
She'd learned that he liked crab. A lot. Once, after he finished training with Fuguki and Ganryū dismissed her for the night, they'd walked back into town just when the day's haul of shrimp, crab, and mollusks was coming in. The smells from stall fryers and roasters had been enough to crack his usual façade, and Mei bought him a whole roasted crab. They sat together on the docks cracking the legs apart and devouring the meat. He'd ended up eating two more by himself that night, and when she warned him that she'd found his weakness, he just shrugged.
"It was bound to happen eventually."
But for all the little things she'd learned, there were a million things she did not. Things she would never know, knowing him. She didn't really know him. To everyone, even her (especially her), he was the Monster of the Mist.
As if reading her thoughts, Kisame shifted and cracked his neck. "Watching the show."
Mei frowned and followed his line of sight to a boat anchored just offshore. A small group of young civilian men—fishermen, no doubt—were talking animatedly. One had stripped down to his shorts and looked ready to dive in.
"The fishermen?"
Kisame reached around back and grabbed her ponytail. He twisted her head around to the left.
"See that? It's a deserted island. But the civilians like their superstition, so they say it's where Ryujin lives. His palace under the sea."
Ryujin was said to be a god of the sea in the local mythology. Mei knew the story as well as the next girl, but she'd never cared for superstitions.
"You don't believe that," she said, nudging him so he would release her.
"Doesn't matter what I believe. They believe it, so it's real to them. The story goes that if you can swim to that island and dive down to the bottom, you'll reach Ryujin's palace." He chuckled. "Apparently, there's a virgin princess waiting at the bottom for the lucky bastard who can make the trip."
"How tempting."
"Sounds like a lot of effort and not enough of a payoff, if you ask me."
Mei laughed. "So that guy's going to try to make the trip? How do they know if he actually makes it to the bottom?"
"Because most people who try it end up drowning. If you live, that's proof enough that the gods're lookin' out for you."
In the distance, the young fisherman whooped and hollered as their comrade dove into the sea and began the journey. The waves were not high, but he moved slowly. Mei narrowed her eyes.
"There's a riptide in those waters," she said.
Kisame chuckled. "Well, if I were some undersea god with a hot daughter, I'd wanna lock my front door, too."
Mei watched the lonely fisherman struggle against the fierce underwater currents. Despite the exertion, however, he was making progress toward the island. She hugged her knees.
"If they die, why bother?" she asked.
"Most of 'em just go to the island and come back. It's a test of fortitude, courage, you know. You're not a 'real man' till you can make the trip. But the ones that try to go under never make it back. So they usually don't even try."
Mei smirked. "That poor virgin princess must be awfully lonely down there by herself."
Kisame grinned and revealed his sharp teeth. Mei bit her lip. "Guess so."
"How do you know all this? Have you done it?"
He shrugged, and his smile fell. "Nah. Civilians took me in when I was still a kid, before the Academy."
Mei faced him, shocked at the revelation. No shinobi ever came from civilian families in Mist. It was unheard of, even by adoption. "Why?"
As soon as she asked the question, she regretted it. He rubbed his hands together, and Mei followed the path of his fingers along tinted blue skin. Inhuman.
Monster.
But his eyes danced with an inner laughter, and any sign of pain, real or imagined, was gone from his dark eyes. "Maybe they thought it'd be worse luck not to."
The fisherman that had embarked on his journey to the island reached his target and waved back to his companions. They cheered for him and promised much merriment upon his return. He started back to them, slowly but surely navigating the deadly undertows back to safety.
"Come celebrate with us tonight. Even Zabuza'll be there," Mei said.
They sat close enough to touch, but they didn't. Neither reached for the other as they continued to sit there at the edge of the ocean. The sun was slowly falling in the sky, too lazy to stay at its zenith.
"With a bunch of kids? I'll pass."
The fisherman finally made it back to his comrades and they pulled him aboard. He was too exhausted to stand, but they were happy to carry him and push a bottle of something in his face, laughing all the while. Mei laid a hand over Kisame's in the sand. Sea water drowned their entwined fingers, and she shivered.
"It won't be like this forever, you know. Your time will come," she said.
Kisame chuckled, and even now she couldn't detect a hint of bitterness or anger. Nothing at all. "I don't need you to tell me what I've known all my life, kid."
He rose suddenly, breaking the contact like it had never happened. Mei scrambled to her feet and watched him go.
"I'm not a kid," she called.
He waved to her but didn't turn back. Frigid water dripped from her hand where she'd held him, cold. The fishermen's cheers and laughter carried to the shore and followed Kisame's retreat back to wherever he came from.
'Celebration' was not the right word for it in the traditional sense. The group of shinobi that had gathered to commemorate Zabuza's, Mangetsu's, and Ameyuri's induction into the Seven Swordsman was about ten strong, and half the people there were people Mei had no interest in. She was here for her friends.
"I'd say congratulations, but this was always in the cards, anyway," she said as she pulled Mangetsu and Ameyuri into a group hug.
"For me, yeah," Ameyuri said, "but I was a little worried for Water Boy over here for a minute."
Mangetsu barely reacted to Ameyuri's jab and just took a sip of his drink. They had a bonfire blazing on the beach tonight, and everyone milled around it with drinks in hand. A shinobi Mei recognized from the year above her manned the food and handed out plates of grilled fish and seaweed. Zabuza was conversing with Utakata, but Mei was too far away to hear what they were saying.
Ameyuri tugged on Mei's ponytail and gave her a weird look. "Doesn't all that hair get in the way?"
Mei grinned. "Not when all I have to do is stand still and look good to beat my enemies."
Mangetsu choked on his drink and Ameyuri guffawed loudly. "You lazy bitch. Some of us actually have to move our asses to win."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
Ameyuri laughed some more and slugged Mei in the shoulder lightly. "So it really doesn't bother you?"
"Consider it part of my strategy." She ran her fingers through one of Ameyuri's short, red pigtails. "Maybe you should try it sometime. You'd look great with longer hair."
"What kind of strategy is that?" Mangetsu asked.
Ameyuri and Mei made eye contact, and it was their undoing as they burst out laughing. Mangetsu slumped his shoulders a little and sipped his drink some more.
"This is dumb," he grumbled, searching for more understanding company. "Kisame."
Mei stopped laughing and turned to see Kisame approaching. His katana was strapped to his back, as usual, and he caught her stare. Mangetsu weaved in between Mei and Ameyuri to get to him as though his life depended on it. Kisame nodded to Mangetsu and they struck up a conversation, something a little more serious and familiar than the allure of women's hair, by the looks of it. Ameyuri shoved Mei with an elbow.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer," she said.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
Ameyuri rolled her eyes and snagged a plate of grilled fish. She grabbed a hunk of meat with her fingers and stuffed it in her mouth while nudging the plate toward Mei, who accepted and ate from it without a fuss.
"I bet he's real pissed about not making the cut," Ameyuri said.
"It's not that he didn't make the cut. You know that."
Ameyuri put a hand up. "Yeah, whatever. But you know the only way to take a spot is when a current member dies. I'm surprised he didn't already make a move."
"What're you talking about?" Mei said as she licked the grease from her thumb.
Ameyuri gave her a pointed look. "You know what I mean."
"Well, it's stupid. The Seven Swordsmen are the elite of the elite. It'd be suicide to challenge one of them."
"What's your point?"
Mei looked back at Kisame, thoughtful. The Bloody Mist had a reputation for unwarranted violence, no doubt about it. But there were rules even here. Ameyuri liked the fight, loved it, but people didn't survive on bloodlust, they only died from it. Yagura knew that well enough, if nothing else. Kisame was no fool.
"His time will come," Mei said. "I know it will."
"Now that I believe."
Mangetsu broke away from Kisame at that moment and returned to the girls. "I gotta go."
"Where? Everyone who can stand you's right here," Ameyuri shot back.
"It's my brother. I mean, I have a brother."
"Huh?"
Mei smiled. "He was born tonight? That's great news."
"Yeah, Kisame just came from there and told me. That's why he's here."
Sure enough, when Mei turned to look Kisame was already gone. "I didn't know he was close to your family."
Mangetsu shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I'll see you guys later."
He left Mei and Ameyuri wondering about this mysterious new piece of information.
"Do you even know anything about Kisame?" Ameyuri asked.
"Maybe they thought it'd be worse luck not to."
Mei shook her head. "No. I really don't."
"Well anyway, c'mon, let's go meet Juicebox, Jr. Nothin' else to do."
Mei nodded, and they followed Mangetsu back into town.
Yagura was in his office enjoying a glass of aged scotch. Scrolls were opened and in disarray across his desk. They detailed battle plans and formations passed down to him from his predecessors, as well as newer ones his most savvy generals had concocted in their prime. But it was all fluff, superfluous drivel in the face of what needed to be done. What he had in mind would require a team that could go unnoticed, not an army marching to drums that would announce their presence.
"I want it done quietly, Ao," he said. "I assume you understand what's at stake."
Ao stood in the shadows opposite the wide window. An eye patch covered his right eye, and he stood with his arms folded behind his back. He was a severe man just past his prime by Mist's standards, but he was the best for this job.
"A kidnapping won't be so easy in the midst of war," he said. "Konoha and Iwa are fighting in the Fire Country. That's where she'll be."
Yagura cracked his knuckles one by one, slowly so the sound echoed in the spacious office. "I'm not sending you because I think it'll be easy."
Ao set his jaw and forced himself to remain perfectly still. Yagura was a small man, but to anger him was to invite a fate worse than death. Outside, red lanterns lit up the dark night like bloody stars. In the distance, a bonfire burned on the beach. A celebration, perhaps. Yagura downed the rest of his scotch and set the glass on the sill. His pale eyes burned with the image of that celebratory fire.
"To call my predecessor incompetent would be far too conciliatory," Yagura said. "But now I find myself having to clean up his mess. Sealing Isobu's Yang chakra in a pot made it child's play to steal. He should have trusted me with all of it from the beginning. Craven fool."
Again, Ao said nothing.
"Now we've basically handed Konoha a new Jinchuuriki to do with as they please. I don't care about the culprit—just bring me the girl."
Ao cleared his throat. "My team will retrieve her alive. Konoha will be too distracted by the war efforts to stop us."
Yagura shot him a glance over his shoulder, and Ao stiffened. "Dead or alive, I don't care. As long as you move quickly, we can extract the beast from her and return it to where it was always meant to be—with me. Do not fail me in this, Ao. I would hate to lose my best Hunter to Konoha filth."
Ao bowed low. "Yes, sir."
Yagura refilled his scotch once Ao had excused himself. He returned to the window to gaze at the red lanterns and the bonfire in the distance. There were no stars tonight thanks to the thickening fog, only people and their imitations. Ghost lights. Somewhere deep in his memory, something stirred awake.
"Soon," he said. "Very soon."
Mangetsu, Ameyuri, and Utakata waited in silence in the colosseum's lobby for Mei to emerge. Mei and Utakata had both passed their written examinations, and now all that was left was the physical examination. Utakata had passed, unsurprisingly, and Mei was the last to go.
"She's taking forever," Ameyuri complained.
"It's an exam. It's not her fault," Mangetsu said.
Utakata stretched his arms over his head. "Whatever, she'll pass. Don't worry so much, Ameyuri."
Ameyuri grabbed him by the collar and yanked him down to her eye level. "Who the fuck says I'm worried? I don't worry for no one!"
Utakata blinked in surprise at her manhandling. "Uh..."
Mangetsu removed Hiramekarei from his back and set it on the floor. Its weight caused a slight tremor and startled Ameyuri from her attempt at intimidation. "Just shut up, already. You're giving me a headache."
"Oh, well excuse me for wondering how our friend is doing!"
Utakata and Mangetsu exchanged a look while Ameyuri just scowled and began to pace.
"So, did you use it for your test?" Mangetsu asked.
Utakata frowned. "Use what?"
"You know."
Ameyuri continued to pace and grumble to herself under her breath. There had always been a kind of distance between Utakata and Mei's friends. They were her friends, not his. He'd always known this. He wondered when they would confront him about his...condition. It was only a matter of time, of course, just as all things.
"Saiken's not a sword I can just use and put away whenever I feel like it."
Mangetsu's stare gave nothing away of his thoughts. He was the kind of guy that saw everything but chose not to comment simply because he didn't care. But that didn't mean he didn't notice.
"Then what good is having it?"
Nothing.
"Liar," echoed the Other hiding in the cobwebs in his head.
Utakata flashed a bright smile. "It's hard to explain."
"Try me."
Utakata's smile faltered, but Mangetsu just stared back at him in his impassive way, patient.
"What's it like?" Mangetsu pressed.
Ameyuri was banging on the door to the colosseum now and shouting for the proctor.
"It's something I keep so the rest of you don't have to," Utakata said.
"Liiiiiiiiiiaaaaarrrrrrr!"
Utakata growled and rubbed his ear with the heel of his hand, like that would do any good. He looked at his feet, withdrawing into himself to a dark noxious place.
They don't have to know that.
The laughter in his head reverberated like the tail end of a dream upon waking, touching everything within. A hand on Utakata's shoulder startled him back to reality. Violet eyes peered up at him, curious.
"Where do you go?" Mangetsu asked.
It was quite hot in here. The new standard issue grey Jōnin vest was doing Utakata no favors. "You don't want to know."
"Hey! I said open up, you shit geezer! You got any idea who I am? Huh?!"
Ameyuri pounded on the door again.
"Maybe we should restrain her," Utakata said, hoping Mangetsu would drop it.
He did drop it. "It's not worth the effort, trust me."
Finally, the door opened and Mei emerged looking worse for wear, but she wore a brand new grey Jōnin vest that actually fit her. Utakata lit up at the sight of her, blood and bruises and all.
"About damn time!" Ameyuri grabbed her by the elbow and yanked her toward the group. "You sure like to take your sweet-ass time, Lava Girl."
Mei wiped some blood from her mouth and smiled. "You better wait for me."
"Che, dumbass."
Mei laughed with Ameyuri and leaned on her for support.
"So you passed, obviously," Mangetsu said. "Congratulations."
"Was there ever any doubt?" Utakata said with a smile.
"No way," Mei said.
"All right, so it's time to celebrate!" Ameyuri grabbed Mangetsu by the back of the neck and Mei reached for Utakata.
The four of them stumbled outside in a line that would have blocked anyone from trying to get inside. But as soon as they arrived outside, a Chuunin messenger was already waiting for them.
"Mei Terumī?" he said from behind a thick gas mask that covered his entire face.
Utakata squeezed Mei's hand in warning, but she slipped away. "That's me. Is something wrong?"
The Chuunin approached and handed her a message scroll small enough to be carried by falcon. He then bowed low and left. Mei unraveled the scroll and read it in silence.
"What's up?" Ameyuri asked. She tried to peer over Mei's shoulder at the note.
"Mei?" Utakata asked.
Mangetsu said nothing as he merely watched, expressionless. But when Mei swayed and nearly lost her balance, he flickered to her side and held up her arm to steady her.
"Hey, what is it?" Utakata tried to see what she was reading, but it was coded.
"Yeah, what gives?" Ameyuri said.
Mei just stared at the paper in her hands, which had begun to shake. Mangetsu squeezed her elbow.
"How bad is it?" he asked softly.
Mei finally looked up at him, then to Utakata. "It's Ganryū. He was in an accident."
"Your sensei?" Ameyuri walked around to the front of the group. "Shit, did he get knocked?"
Mei shook her head. "No, it's worse." She folded up the scroll and stuffed it in a pocket in her brand new vest. Then she pulled away from the group and showed them her back. "His team was ambushed at Yosuga Pass. They got his whole team."
No one said a word. Mei sniffled, but when she spoke next her voice was hard. "I have to go see him. I'll catch up with you guys later." She took off before anyone could put up a protest, though no one would have dared.
"That sucks," Ameyuri said. "His whole team."
Utakata and Mangetsu said nothing.
"The war's really getting outta control," Ameyuri added. "Wonder if we'll get any of the action soon."
"If we do, I pity the guys on the other side," Utakata said.
Mangetsu shot him a look, but Utakata took off in the direction opposite that which Mei had gone without another word. He'd promised his own sensei, Harusame, that he would report as soon as he passed the Jōnin exam. They were to celebrate his promotion. It was supposed to be a happy event.
As he walked away, he could feel Mangetsu's eyes on his back, eyes like so many he'd fallen under in all his life. But these weren't accusatory or fearful—they were full of pity. And that, he decided as he picked up speed to put more distance between them, was so much worse.
Her hand was sweaty and sticky in his, but his grip was desperate enough to hold onto her and drag her forward. Rin stumbled over a rock and cried out as she disturbed the many wounds she already bore. Kakashi skidded and caught her as she fell.
"We have to keep going," he said, hauling her up.
"Yeah, I know," Rin panted.
They took off at a sprint again through the tunnels. Moonlight shone up ahead and marked their exit. Kakashi could have sighed in relief. There was no sound of pursuit from Rin's kidnappers, but that didn't mean they weren't aware of the breakout. Mist was known for its Hunters, shinobi who specialized in tracking and killing off enemies of the state. Kakashi suspected it was those shinobi who hunted them now.
They burst outside into the forest. Above, the moon was full and pale, and it robbed them of the cover of night. He needed to get to the trees, put some distance between here and there before it was too late.
"Kakashi!"
Rin broke their contact and whirled, having sensed something he didn't. Kakashi stayed low and rubbed his new Sharingan eye, which was still sore from the surgery Rin had performed on him only days ago. The eye Obito had bequeathed to him as a present for making Jōnin, and the last words he would ever speak. Kakashi blinked the memory away. War, as it would seem, was no time to dwell on the deaths of loved ones.
The Sharingan revealed what Rin had sensed earlier. Shinobi, two squads, had them surrounded on all sides. Their chakra glowed like sun flares through the lens of the Sharingan, and Kakashi could even see the flow and amplification of energy as they channeled chakra in preparation to attack.
"There's too many of them," Rin whispered between labored breaths.
"I'll handle it," Kakashi said.
He powered up Chidori, his newest technique, and the light saturated the night. The Sharingan picked out his targets, who were already converging. Kakashi ran toward the nearest one and lunged with Chidori. It clashed with a devastating water jutsu, but the effect amplified Chidori's thunder, and the enemy was thrown back several feet, never to rise again.
Nearby, Rin was attacking an enemy using her deadly chakra scalpels despite her many injuries. Kakashi rushed to help her, but the enemy's number was too great to ignore. They came from all sides, and Kakashi was forced to abandon his rescue mission to deal with them. A burly shinobi landed a mean punch to Kakashi's face out of nowhere, and he saw stars. He also got a good look at the enemy's hitai-ate: Mist. But they were never involved in this savage war with Iwa before this, so why now? There was no time to dwell on the thought as the attacks kept coming. Someone hit his back and supported him from behind.
"Rin, you have to get out of here. You can't do much with your injuries," he said as they circled, back to back.
She tensed behind him. "They're here for me. Just me."
"It's war."
"No, you don't understand." Her voice hitched. "They're not here to kill me, they're here to take me away."
"What're you talking about?"
A powerful Doton technique split the earth and forced them apart. Kakashi jumped to safety and looked around for Rin. Her wounds had made her slow, and the jutsu had caught her. Her left leg was buried under a thick slab of rock, and she struggled to pull free. Kakashi swore and rushed to her aid. There was no way he would let her die. No way he would break his promise to Obito.
A Mist nin ran toward Rin while executing a complicated and long string of hand seals. Kakashi followed them with his Sharingan eye, unwittingly committing them to memory. On instinct, he mimicked the seals. Nearby, the Naka river bubbled with chakra as the enemy shinobi's jutsu took the shape of a great water dragon. It roared to life and headed straight for Rin, but it never made it. Another water dragon collided with it just before it could make contact, and the two beasts exploded in a deluge that soaked everyone and everything in the vicinity, including Kakashi. His hands shook at what he'd done.
"Who are you?"
A man around Minato's age materialized a few yards away from Kakashi. Unlike his teammates, he wore no Hunter's mask, but his right eye was covered by a black patch. Kakashi met his gaze and gasped, easily able to see through the barrier with Obito's Sharingan.
"The Byakugan," he said, incredulous.
Bright chakra congregated around the eyepatch, probably seeing a mirror reflection of itself in Kakashi's Sharingan. The Mist nin remained expressionless as he continued to stare down Kakashi.
"The Suiryūdan is a secret technique native to the Hidden Mist, but you replicated it effortlessly. What did you do?" the Mist Hunter demanded. "Did you copy it somehow?"
Kakashi's left hand twitched. This guy had to be the leader of the attacking Mist nin. Taking him out could put an end to this in one blow. Electrified chakra rushed to his fingertips and began to crackle like the sound of a thousand chirping birds.
"I'm not here to talk to you," he said, crouching and preparing to lunge.
The Mist nin's gaze darkened dangerously. "However you did it, you won't be doing it ever again."
Kakashi was done talking. Electricity jumped all over his body and fried the condensation on his skin and hair from the Suiryūdan attacks. He took off at full tilt toward the enemy, ready to end this nightmare and do something right for a change. He couldn't save Obito, but he could at least save her.
"Rin!"
She came out of nowhere, so fast (could she always move so fast?). Even his borrowed Sharingan hadn't seen her coming, so focused on the kill when he should have been looking out for the one thing that really mattered. Wide brown eyes stared back at him through glistening tears. This close, he could make out the cracks in her lips and the smudges on her face. There were flecks of gold in her eyes, and he wondered if Obito had known that about her.
She choked, and the spell was broken. Her small hands gripped his arm and held him in place—clean through her. Kakashi's breaths came in short, too short to fill his lungs and he started to see double. The enemy Mist nin around them had stopped whatever they were doing to look on, just as stunned as he was.
When she smiled, blood fell from her lips and stained her chin. "Kakashi..."
Sparks danced between them, and all he could think about was the gold in her eyes. So pretty, so young, so adored by all who knew her. Such a nice little girl.
"Those who abandon their teammates are worse than trash," Obito's insult rang clear in his memory.
Kakashi heaved and bile rose in his throat. He lost control of his legs and they toppled to the ground together. He vomited on the damp grass as Rin fell away from his impaling arm and collapsed. The Sharingan throbbed in pain, like a small demon with a mind of its own clawing to get free. He rubbed it with the heel of his hand, willing it all to stop.
Just stop.
A desperate wail excruciating enough to wake the dead was the last thing he heard before he blacked out, and the bodies fell all around him.
Mei rushed to the Mist General Hospital as fast as her legs could carry her, which was not very fast after the brutality of the Jōnin exams she'd just passed. She burst through the front doors and grabbed the nearest employee she could find to ask after Ganryū. Within minutes, she'd located his room and was at his bedside.
"Sensei," she said as she leaned over him.
He was badly beaten and heavily bandaged. His right eye was completely obscured by gauze, and blood had already started to stain through his wrappings. The whitewashed walls made his pain stick out even more. He didn't belong here.
"I'm not your sensei anymore," he rasped.
With a hand, he fumbled around for the control button to sit upright. Mei found it for him and raised the back of his bed so he could better see her.
"What happened?" she asked.
He eyed her askance and forced a grin. "I see you made Jōnin. About time."
Mei clenched her fists. "Worry about yourself. Are you going to tell me what happened or not?"
He averted his gaze, and Mei was suddenly struck by how old and haggard he looked. He'd always seemed so old to Mei as an authority figure despite being in his prime, but he was also invincible in her memory. Untouchable. Now he couldn't even defecate without a nurse there to clean him up afterwards.
He coughed, and Mei resisted the urge to lay a hand over his head. He would not have appreciated her pity. "My team was dispatched to retrieve intel from Cloud. Yagura wanted it done quietly. You know we're staying out of this ludicrous war with Konoha."
Mei nodded but said nothing.
"Iwa sent a team to assist us as part of our wartime treaty, but once we'd gotten what we came for—"
A coughing fit cut him off from his explanation, and this time Mei did reach for him. He swatted her hand away as though it burned, and she flushed in anger at her weakness.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Please, tell me what went wrong."
He calmed down and took a sip from the straw someone had set up for his use. It connected to a water bottle on the bedside table. Seconds turned to minutes as he just sat there, gaze far away, remembering. When he spoke again, it was soft and hollow, like an old recording devoid of feeling or memory.
"The Iwa team turned on us. Stole the intel. They caught us by surprise, and Junsai was the first to go down."
Mei said nothing. She knew Junsai from the times he and Suiren would visit during her training session with Ganryū over the years. He would always heal her, even if she only suffered minor surface abrasions. He was nice like that. And she'd never once seen him without a smile on his face.
"It was my fault. I reacted too slowly. Should've known they'd double cross us. I fucked up, and Suiren, she..."
Mei's throat clenched in anticipation of the words she was sure would follow, though he couldn't seem to get them out. They were right there, but speaking them would make them real. He couldn't even look at her.
"She sacrificed herself for me," Ganryū said finally. "Just threw herself in the line of fire like a goddamned novice." He clenched his bandaged hand, and blood seeped through and between the wrappings. "It should've been me."
"It wasn't your fault. She was just doing what she thought was right."
Ganryū turned his heavy accusatory stare on Mei, and she recoiled at the wild anger there. "She was a grown woman. A smart woman trained in the Bloody Mist. Only little girls do what they think is 'right' without thinking of everyone else. Suiren was never so selfish."
"She saved your life," Mei said. "There's good in that. I know so."
He chuckled bitterly. "You're still a child. You wouldn't understand. As a leader, to lose a teammate... To lose the person closest to you by their own hand is the ultimate failure."
Mei's hands shook with a rage that had come out of nowhere. "Suiren wouldn't want you to sulk like this."
"No, she'd want me to avenge her. Iwa will pay for this, I swear it on my life."
Seeing him like this, so broken and bitter, deflated every ounce of anger she had. There was an emptiness here in this room, around him, something that had been taken from him and would never come back. She couldn't understand it now, as he said, but she could mourn its loss. The only time they'd made physical contact was to attack each other. That was what teachers were for, to knock you down and wait until you got back up. But now, she reached for him and simply let her hand rest over his forehead. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she wouldn't disrespect him further by crying for him.
"I'm glad you're back safely," she said, unable to look him in the eye as she said it.
She left him then and didn't look back, afraid of the contempt she would find in that dark eye that had watched the woman he loved most in this world decide both their fates for him. Outside the hospital, the sun was already setting and Mei knew her father would be expecting her for dinner and their usual history lesson. But home was the last place she wanted to be right now.
She ran through the fishermen's ward. Her sandals clacked loudly against the cobblestone streets. The night mists were encroaching slowly, and the district's signature red lanterns were burning to life the darker it got. She made it to the beach where she'd found Kisame the day of the Seven Swordsmen's inauguration ceremony some weeks ago, though it was deserted now. The ocean was dark, but she could just picture the fisherman that had braved the riptides to prove his mettle, all for a silly superstition.
Mei unzipped her brand new Jōnin vest and threw it on the sand. The tantō she always carried was soon to follow along with her sandals. Clad only in a blue tunic and thick, white sash, she waded into the sea and dove under the waves. The water was cold enough to make her want to scream, but the bubbles muffled her cry. She beat her arms against the current and swam out to sea toward the deserted island fabled to house a god.
At first, the swim was relatively uneventful. Growing up in Mist, she could swim for as long as she could walk, like all children. But as soon as she got about fifty feet out from the shore, the tides changed. Underwater winds tugged at her legs and tried with all their might to pull her under. On the surface, the waves smacked her in the face and attempted to push her back. But she fought with everything she had against the opposing forces to stay upright.
The water was a demon trying to swallow her whole, of this Mei was certain. How could mere civilians conquer it? How could they survive it when all it did was take and take and take? She broke the surface and sucked in a breath of air, but before she could fill her lungs a wave crashed against her. Saltwater filled her mouth and throat, and she would have gagged had she not had the sense to clamp her mouth shut.
I can't do this.
Mei clawed her way to the surface against the relentless riptide. Without thinking, her chakra came to her aid and helped her float. When she pawed at the surface, her hands didn't sink. Below, the dark tides roared for her blood, but magic kept her out of reach. Black magic. Monstrous.
"We're all monsters."
The waves carried her back to shore, and she lay prostrate on the sand. She hadn't made it even halfway to the island. Her lungs screamed for air, never satisfied with the full fast gulps she sucked in. The waves, gentle once again, flooded her with every heartbeat. Above, only the brightest stars shone through the fog, so far away, and she just a little girl again alone in the dark.
A little girl, dead to the world and all those in it, lay prostrate and looked up at Yagura from the floor of his office with glassy unseeing eyes.
"You're late," Yagura said.
Ao, who was soiled with dried mud and blood, remained kneeling with his head down. "Forgive me, my lord. We encountered some difficulty."
"The team?"
"Dead."
Yagura paced to his desk and pressed a button on a dial. It emitted no sound. Returning his attention to Ao and his prize, he said, "Tell me what happened."
"She killed herself. Probably thought it could keep us from extracting the beast."
"Not her, imbecile. I meant your team. Surely one little girl couldn't wipe out a team of your best Hunters."
Ao stiffened. "No, sir."
Yagura kneeled down across from Ao. Rin's mangled body lay in between them.
"Tell me," Yagura demanded.
"There was an Uchiha. He came out of nowhere, overpowered us."
Yagura scoffed. "You've fought the Uchiha before. Shisui, was it? I don't remember him slaughtering an entire team of Hunters. Are you sure you didn't just fail me?"
Ao swallowed. "There was only one, but he was different somehow. His power...it wasn't like anything I've ever seen before. He could pull grown men to him like gravity and make them disappear into thin air. I grabbed the girl's body and escaped."
Yagura eyed him carefully for a moment. "You did the right thing. This is far more important than the deaths of a few Hunters."
Ao said nothing to that.
Yagura ran a finger over Rin's jaw line. "What a lovely little girl."
There was a knock on the door, and three people entered the Mizukage's office carrying yellowed scrolls and an intricately decorated clay pot. Yagura rose to greet them.
"That won't be necessary," he said, indicating the pot.
"We need a place to put it, Lord Yagura," said the lone woman of the group, an ancient woman with leathery skin burned brown from years spent working under the merciless sun.
"I have a place already in mind. The rightful place," Yagura said.
The three elderly shinobi exchanged looks, but nothing further was said. Ao stepped back to give them room.
"My lord, may I be excused?" he asked.
"No."
The elderly shinobi gathered around Yagura and Rin's body. The old woman kneeled over Rin and began to chant under her breath in a language Ao could not understand. The other two circled Yagura, also chanting. They carried small bowls with them into which they dipped their fingers and painted purple lines over Yagura's face and skin. The woman painted similar lines over Rin's corpse.
The air became hot, too hot to breathe comfortably, and Ao felt sick. He stumbled backward toward the door and fumbled for the doorknob, but failed to find it in time. A bright green light erupted from Rin's chest and grew into the shape of...something. Claws, arms that were too long, and an armored head that cracked open its maw in a deafening roar. All in shadows.
Yagura bared his teeth in a wide smile and reached for the sentient light. The markings the elders had drawn on him glowed bright purple, calling to the beast that had awakened. Before Ao's eyes, Yagura's flesh melted from his hands and arms to reveal bleeding tissue teeming with red chakra, alive of its own accord. And he laughed. Ao sank to the floor and shook, wishing for darkness.
