Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto and am making no profit from this fan fiction.

Turn of Blade, Twist of Fate

Chapter Five: Impractical Endeavor

By Nessie

"Dance of the Crescent Moon."

Gekko Hayate had power that he had never appeared capable of, a terrible, tolling power that made Yuugao's heart stop and restart at a gallop. She wondered if he had not told her of it on purpose, if he had reserved his secret until she proved her trust. It was what she would have done.

As his gentle voice, infused with a tone of determination, was carried to her on the wind, she stared openly. He ran forward at the point where an imaginary enemy might have stood (in this case a log grounded in the riverbed and protruding through the surface). Suddenly, the man who had seemed so unremarkable to Yuugao split into three versions of the same shinobi, all carrying swords, all swift and agile.

It had to have been genjutsu, Yuugao reasoned, though her inescapable wonder at Hayate's attack was not allowing her to reason very clearly. Genjutsu combined with chakra use? She wasn't sure. What she was sure of was that one of the Hayate illusions – or the real Hayata – had jumped into the air far too quickly for her eyes to keep up, and was now falling upon the targeted log. In one fluid down-stroke, the log was cut in two, breaking off from its underwater base and floating down the river, symbolically dead.

Yuugao was stunned. She watched Hayate breathing heavily, the grip on his katana's hilt tense, until he at last straightened his posture. She took one step from the shadowy bushes she had been hiding in, only to witness her friend fall on his knees atop the river's surface, coughing so violently his whole body vibrated with it.

"Hayate!" The kunoichi saw him gasp, his dark-rimmed eyes shooting to her. Unease dominated his expression, and she wasted no time in running to him and kneeling on the water. "Are you all right? That was…it was incredible!"

He continued to cough. Yuugao laid one hand on his shoulder, waiting in concern. Was he making himself ill with this jutsu? Her pulse, initially quick with exhilaration of his attack, now raced with worry for the unassuming man.

"I'm fine," he finally managed to say, accepting her hand and getting to his feet. "It always happens." Clearing his throat (and intercepted by another cough), he gave her a weak smile. "It always happens. It passes, though."

"This was why you were individually tutored?" she demanded. "So you could learn this jutsu?"

"Yes," he replied honestly. "It was a goal of mine, to master it by fifteen. Most ninja aren't capable of doing it before age thirty-five or older. My father told me—"

"Hold on," urged Yuugao, "slow down. Take a drink." She cupped a handful of river water and tipped it into his mouth without thinking much of it. Hayate's smile came stronger. "Now, tell me it all."

He explained that his goal to learn the Konoha-exclusive jutsu, Dance of the Crescent Moon, was made at five years old, when his father had been killed. The older Gekko shinobi had been an elite master of the jutsu, and Hayate had wanted to learn it in honor of him. His mother had been supportive, seeking for him personal training that would allow him to rest and train at intervals because the price of such a powerful jutsu was his health. The longer he went without using it, the better Hayate was, but the attack would always leave him slightly ill no matter his age or bodily condition.

"You'll have no problems tomorrow if you use that jutsu," Yuugao assured him, not with the intention of being kind, simply because she fully believed her own words. Envy threaded her mind only for a moment; she was not made to be able to use a sword in such a way and would have to find excellence in others.

"Thank you." Their gazes locked, a moonbeam slanting over Hayate's gaze, dark as her own. "Yuugao." One of his hands topped hers on his shoulder.

Yuugao abruptly stood. "I was planning to train for a while. Do you wish to stay?"

"No, I should go home," he explained on the arrival of a fit, "to…to rest, or else I can't use Dance of the Crescent Moon properly tomorrow."

She watched him go, the night cradling him like a child finding his way. Yuugao stood shivering in the wet for a minute, taking in the newness of Gekko Hayate's determined, accomplished side. But then she began to work for her own accomplishment, replacing the river moisture on her skin with sweat as she tossed senbon and whirled chain, last-minute sharpening for a day that could mark her life as worth or waste.

The pavilion in which the ANBU trial-takers were to meet the next morning was little more than four posts and a roof, not grand or even very large. It was simply a rendezvous point from where, Yuugao assumed, they would be led to more appropriate testing areas.

Her guess was correct. Side by side, she and Hayate stood in battle dress, waiting patiently for directions. Yuugao watched the aspiring ninja chat in an amiable manner, discussing their predictions on what the trials would be like, if they would barely pass or pass with room to spare. No one mentioned failure.

Presently, the undersized group was approached by a uniformed ANBU kunoichi with the face of a minx etched into her mask. Though her eyes could not be seen, her voice was even and expressed her professionalism.

"Listen, please! Two groups will be formed, and then you will be guided off individually. Post-Jounin ANBU trials to your left, combination Jounin/ANBU trials to your right. Do nothing until you are told." The head of the ANBU kunoichi inclined, but Yuugao could not tell if she was smiling or not. "This isn't the Chuunin Exams. I advise you not to be too reckless."

Hayate leaned down to murmur in Yuugao's ear. "Good luck. I know you'll make it."

"Hayate…" She turned, wanting to say the same thing to him, but he was already being swept away by ANBU proctors. She followed her own much smaller group through the pavilion. It did not surprise her that she was the only female in the group to the right, nor that the men blatantly stared at her. They were all thinking the same thing, she was aware: what does a kunoichi think she's doing, making things harder on herself? Why does she choose the impractical endeavor?

"You will be tested individually," one cloaked man wearing a lion mask informed the four men and one woman he was charged with. "The point of ANBU is finding prowess in both teamwork and solitude. The first you must have gained if you've made it to Chuunin. The second, we have yet to see. You will not witness each other's testing."

One by one, the five were taken from the pavilion, led in separate directions. When Yuugao, the last to be approached, was taken away, it was by a very tall, very muscular ANBU shinobi in a mask bearing the face of a snapping turtle.

He read from a clipboard, and the mask did nothing to hinder his booming voice. "So you're Uzuki Yuugao! You are quite well-known among the proctors. A woman has not chosen to combine the ANBU trial with her Jounin Exam since…oh, possibly the Sannin Tsunade! But that was years ago!"

Yuugao might have been overwhelmed by the obvious display of wonderment had she not seen Hayate's jutsu the night before. Since then, she had learned to not judge one by his appearances or outward image. Even so, she had never met an ANBU shinobi quite so outgoing.

"Yes, you're quite a commodity, Uzuki-san. I would think you—"

"Excuse me."

At her soft interruption, he halted his friendly speech but continued walking at the same pace. "Yes?"

Yuugao's tone was without feeling, a direct counter to his. "Is this a part of my test?"

The older ninja faltered. "Er…no. I merely—"

"Then I ask you to please lend me some quiet in which to think."

"Of course. I'm terribly sorry."

In all truthfulness, Yuugao did not wish to think at all. It was just that she found this talkative Jounin fairly unbearable right now.

He led her to the eastern wood, and when they stopped Yuugao could have almost – almost – laughed. Her testing point was at the same river where she had trained with Hayate, only a mile or so off from the waterfall.

The day gave the clearing a perfect light, trees throwing shade here and there over the water. Several large boulders protruded from the surface as the log of last night had, and fish leapt along the rushing flow.

On one of the boulders, standing well-balanced although the rock was undoubtedly slick, was an ANBU shinobi whose mask bore the face of a wolf.

Glancing around, Yuugao pondered the absence of any more ninja.

"You've noticed, I see," said the turtle-masked shinobi, "that we three are alone here. Because you have chosen the combination Jounin/ANBU trial, I will be your only proctor." He proceeded to outline the test. "You will fight one on one with this shinobi, Uzuki-san. It is a battle of first blood. You may use seals, but you may not summon. Should you bleed your opponent before he bleeds you, you shall be both Jounin and ANBU." There came a short pause. "Should the opposite happen, we suggest you take the two exams separately next year."

This was how it was done, thought Yuugao. This was how Konoha ascertained the valuable from the indispensable. This was how they found the elite.

"Now!" continued her proctor boisterously after giving her time to take in the rules. "Are you ready?"

She nodded once.

"How about you?" he called to the shinobi on the boulder, who raised an arm to signal in the affirmative. "Then prepare yourselves." Yuugao reached for a handful of metal at her lower back. "And…begin!"

Both combatants went immediately and simultaneously on the offensive, springing toward each other with all the elasticity of a slingshot. When the first clash came, it was kunai on kunai, water spraying around them like a wave from the force of their chakra. Yuugao's lustrous hair was blown straight back; she followed up with a shuriken, not thrown but stabbed in an underhand at her opponent.

The shinobi realized the danger of the close proximity and leapt back. Yuugao took up pursuit, readying more weapons as she chased him. He ran upstream on one side of the river, Yuugao on the other. On the bank, her proctor kept up by jumping over the boughs of trees.

The ANBU shinobi unleashed a volley of shuriken, a few simple kunai dotting the attack. As skilled at avoiding weapons as she was at using them, Yuugao dodged the sharp blades and retaliated by throwing her own, though hers were sent in a far more complicated pattern. The shinobi was prepared, however, and released yet another volley, some of his shuriken stopping hers, weaving his body between the remaining. Only one of his kunai made it through.

Yuugao saw easily enough of that it would be short work to jump over – but saw, belatedly, that the blade had been tagged with an exploding note. Her eyes widened and, in the two seconds available to her, went over all possible evasion strategies, going with the best at the last moment.

Dispelling the chakra in her feet, Yuugao dropped through the water just as the kunai sailed over where her head had been, the note detonating upon her submerge. She could feel the heat of the blaze through the cool of the river and fought the current to stay in place. Eyes open, she waited for the eerie orange glow above to fade before moving to the surface again…where the shinobi was waiting for her, a short-sword in hand.

Yuugao mentally cursed. That her only escape route had been to get soaking wet infuriated her. She fought back with an oversized shuriken, not huge like her fuuma, but enough to contend with the short-sword. Her movements were sluggish, her hair and clothes heavy with river water, and the shinobi's upper body strength was overpowering her. The time spent underwater had also left her short of breath.

The kunoichi jumped back to gain some distance and reached into the pack strapped to her thigh for a coiled length of wire, stowing her shuriken at the same time. Quickly wrapping one end around her gloved right hand, Yuugao took aim and hurled the opposite end at the shinobi, using it like a whip. Her arm by itself could move just as fast as his entire body.

Just as full confidence was returning to her, a cry interrupted them: "Stop your match!"

The wolf-masked shinobi's body gave an odd jerk just before Yuugao reigned in her wire and turned to face her proctor. He stood on the shore with another shinobi, not of ANBU but of the regular reserves. That shinobi bore an expression of deep solemnity. Her proctor's voice came gravely. "You must both abandon this fight and follow us at once."

"Why?" Yuugao demanded, adrenaline boosting her courage.

"The medic-kunoichi called Rin has been seriously injured. She is just past the western gate on the other side of town."

The light seemed to tear itself from the world Yuugao saw. Everything darkened, narrowed, sharpened until every treetop and water droplet appeared as lethal as the arsenal she carried. She moved automatically, her feet carrying her forward even though she had barely comprehended the words. The three shinobi ran with her, but she gained speed until she left them behind, panic joining the adrenaline in her veins to form an awful drug.

So intent on getting to the western gate of Konoha, Yuugao had not even noticed the gash she had created in the upper left side of her ANBU opponent, blood seeping from the wound and into the black material of his uniform.

To Be Continued…