Glass Trinity, Chapter 10: Legendary
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Tobirama was not in a good mood. Waking up to an ambush had that effect on him.
"I can't believe him sometimes," Tobirama said to Tōka as they led a group of Senju warriors in full military regalia to Uzushiogakure's northwestern beach. "If it wasn't for me sensing the bastards, we'd all be dead. And how does my dear brother reward me? By sending me to the goddamned ocean."
"I think you're overreacting a bit," Tōka said. "Hashirama's sending us ahead because he trusts our ability."
"He knows I don't like being in places like this. I'm telling you, he's doing it on purpose."
Tōka rolled her eyes and dropped the argument. Tobirama liked having the last word, and it wasn't worth wasting her breath over, anyway. More importantly, the enemy ships were close to docking, and the Senju were late to the party.
"Oh no, you've gotta be kidding me!"
Tobirama signaled for his soldiers to stop as he observed the scene on the rocky beach up ahead. Enemy shinobi and samurai piled out of the long warships, which were much bigger up close and probably carried up to thirty soldiers each. The Uchiha and some Uzumaki were already engaging them.
"Well, I suppose the Uchiha aren't in league with these guys, after all," Tōka said.
"No," Tobirama said, red eyes scanning the crowd for the energy he'd sensed on the way here. "I suppose not."
"You remember what Hashirama said."
I know you're down there, Tobirama thought to himself.
He gritted his teeth. There was no way out of this with those invaders breathing down their necks. "All right," he addressed the Senju shinobi awaiting orders. "For the record, I can't believe I'm saying this, but the Uchiha are not the enemy here. Our objective is to keep those invaders from taking another step inland. Got that?"
The Senju soldiers muttered their acknowledgment, but one look at their ranks and Tobirama could tell they were not happy about this. He looked to Tōka for assistance, and she patted him on the back.
"Let's show the Uchiha how it's done, boys and girls," she called to the soldiers, grinning.
They whooped and shouted, craving the fight now. Tōka took off toward the shoreline where the battle was thickest.
Tobirama frowned. "I should've said it like that..."
The only sound Izuna heard was his own breathing. He moved in time with his breaths, his gifted eyes foretelling his fate and guiding him around it. An enemy shinobi dressed in blue armor attacked from the left with a short sword, and Izuna jumped and twisted to catch the blade between his two tantō. His legs were soaked to the knees from sea spray and crashing waves. Rolling his shoulders, Izuna swerved his attacker's blade to the left, throwing him off balance. He ended up behind the shinobi and rammed his daggers between the man's shoulder blades, like two bleeding wing stubs. The enemy grunted and fell to the ground, unmoving. Izuna breathed.
Behind him, a kunoichi came running with throwing knives. Izuna skidded over the pebble-strewn beach to avoid them, but one embedded in his shoulder between the armor joints. Her aim was incredible, but so was his. Instead of dodging, Izuna lunged at her. The kunoichi hesitated and tried to change her tactic, but Izuna gave her no time. Metal screeched as they clashed, and Izuna held her gaze with his Sharingan. She tried to look away, and it was her undoing. Izuna flipped the grip on his tantō and punched her with the butt of it. She went down, and he followed. Using the momentum of gravity and his weight, he smashed her head into the rocky shore with enough force to crack her skull. She was dead in an instant.
Izuna breathed. The waters lapped at her prone body and washed her blood and brain matter away with the tide. He moved on to the next target without hesitation.
The boats kept coming. Some docked nearby, which was why the Uchiha had chosen to intercept them here, but Izuna could see that even met with resistance, many invaders managed to slip through the cracks. Izuna could only trust that Madara could handle himself. That black fire, however, had him worried. They still didn't know what it was or what it meant. Only the Uchiha Tablet Tajima had mentioned could shed light on the mystery. For now, they were fighting in the dark, and the risk of Madara lapsing into a dead zone of black hatred was not altogether remote.
I trust him, Izuna thought stubbornly as he brought down a hulking samurai armed with two katana.
All of a sudden, the tide of battle shifted. Fresh bodies appeared on the scene, and they seemed to be helping the Uchiha and Uzumaki forces already fighting. But when Izuna caught sight of their sigil, his first instinct was to attack.
"It's the Senju!" a nearby Uchiha soldier shouted.
"Stay calm!" Izuna shouted over the crowd. "The Senju aren't the enemy!"
Few heard him, and fewer listened. Swearing, he ran to intercept some Uchiha before they could turn this into a bloodbath and hand victory to the true enemy.
"Stand down!" General Risa Uchiha yelled at the spooked soldiers as she brandished her immense battle axe, slick with blood. "Our goal is those ships and the shitholes coming off of them!"
Nearby, General Yurima Uchiha drew his sword and pointed it at his own men. "You heard the General. Stick to the objective. That's an order. The Senju are fighting alongside us today."
Even General Goro Uchiha, a man who'd very vocally disapproved of Tajima's adoption of two lowborn bastard boys, stood with his colleagues. "Move your asses! This ain't happy hour, it's killing hour! No one gets past the shore!"
Izuna was so shocked that he could only gape dumbly. It was a miracle, and one he was sure his brother had orchestrated. The Uchiha soldiers in his own unit waited for his word, and Izuna turned back to the fray.
"Madara's risking himself protecting our injured," he called to them, finding his confidence once again. "Let's make sure he's got an easy time of it. The Uchiha come first!"
The soldiers raised their swords and shouted 'Uchiha! Uchiha!' as they turned their blades away from the encroaching Senju. Izuna returned to the fray as well, but he kept an eye on the Senju, searching for the source of his elevated nerves, the one person who could ruin all this if things took a turn for the worst. Tobirama was nowhere to be seen from Izuna's vantage point, but he knew he was here. Like a phantom pain, a ghost that never stayed buried, he knew. It was only a matter of time.
Madara was alone defending the hospital, and the silence was grating on his nerves. Waiting for death had never suited him; he preferred to meet it head on. The first wave of assassins was gone. They were nothing special. But now, with the daunting numbers the island's defenders faced, there would surely be those that slipped by the first line of defense and attempted to breach inland, attack civilians and the wounded.
They'll have to get through me, first.
For the Uchiha. And for the Uzumaki, too, who had offered nothing but kindness and hospitality. The Uchiha owed them. And Madara owed her.
For Mito.
One by one the enemy came, until they came two by two, three by three, ten by ten. Madara hacked and slashed with his katana and fired off flame techniques to fend off the attackers, but many they slipped by, penetrated the village proper, and slaughtered the innocents in their path. Madara couldn't abandon his post to give chase, though. The Uchiha came first.
A kunoichi clad in dark green armor lunged for his blind spot, thinking he had one despite his Sharingan, but Madara was too slow to avoid a blade that cut through the joints in his armor. His left shoulder split open and bled. Acting on instinct, he kicked in her shins and brought his katana down upon her when she staggered, cleaving her helmet and cracking her skull. In his distraction, he failed to notice the two enemy shinobi converging on him while their comrades attempted to sneak inside the hospital. But the ambushers never made it to Madara. Kunai to the backs of their heads stopped them in their tracks, and they collided as they fell to the ground, dead on impact.
"Hikaku," Madara said.
"Bet you're glad to see me, huh?" Hikaku grinned and assumed a position at Madara's back.
"Is she safe?"
"Safe is a relative term."
"Hikaku," Madara said in a warning tone.
"Yeah, yeah, she made it to her father's. I dunno what happened after. I came back as soon as I could."
She was fine, she had to be. Mito was strong, and she would no doubt be surrounded by her fellow Whirlpool nin. Right now, Madara couldn't worry about her or anyone else.
"They went inside. Let's go," Hikaku said, disappearing inside the hospital.
Madara unleashed a Great Fireball at the trees surrounding the small hospital. Invaders running to get deeper inland screamed as the flames burned them. Small fires popped up around the wooded area, and Madara was satisfied that for a short time, at least, no one would come sniffing around. He followed Hikaku inside.
The hospital's corridors were narrow and dark for midday. Madara's Sharingan offered a clearer view, but the space was claustrophobic, oppressive, like a living thing was weighing down on him, breathing down his neck.
Movement up ahead.
"There!" Hikaku shouted.
He lunged and slashed at the shadowy enemy, but he missed. The shinobi slammed against the wall to avoid Hikaku's blade, and the wall cracked on impact. Madara ran at him, katana poised, but the bastard unleashed a hellish jet of water that slammed Madara in the chest and pushed him back. Water filled the hallway nearly to his waist, and Madara, knocked over, gasped for air as his abused lungs screamed in protest. He lost his katana in the chaos. The water dissipated and Madara coughed, but he knew this was the crucial moment. Any time now and—
Crack!
A long sword bit into the hardwood floor where Madara had been standing just a moment ago. The enemy had used the water technique as a distraction to disarm his enemies, but Madara's eyes could see him coming. Unarmed, Madara dodged the enemy's sword by using the cramped space to his advantage. Channeling chakra to his hands and feet, Madara stuck to the slick walls and ceiling and pushed backwards, away from the slashing blade. The enemy was good. He sliced off the tips of Madara's bangs just as Madara was in transition from the floor to the wall. Hikaku, however, was hot on their tail.
Hikaku and Madara made eye contact, and they reached a silent agreement. They breathed deeply and unleashed twin Great Fireball techniques in tandem, each approaching from either end of the corridor. The enemy was trapped, and his screams died in seconds as the extreme heat cooked him alive. The walls of the hospital steamed and hissed as the water slicking them evaporated.
When the flames died down, a charred body crumpled to the blackened floor. A grey-black ooze of guts and blood slipped under Madara's boot as he stepped over the body and ran down the corridor after Hikaku. Even the smell of cooked human flesh or burning entrails squelching underfoot no longer bothered him. He'd gotten accustomed to it years ago.
It was bad.
Uchiha, Uzumaki, and civilians lay bleeding in their hospital beds, slaughtered in their sleep. Madara shook with otherworldly rage at the sight of them, brethren or not. To slay the defenseless and the wounded in their sick beds was the cornerstone of cowardice, but in warfare there was only victory or death. The ends justified the means. Even so, Madara could barely contain his volatile emotions, black with rage over such a monstrous strategy. Nearby, Hikaku shared his outrage as he examined the bleeding bodies and checked for pulses in vain. There was another enemy inside, and this was his doing. The hospital was small, but not too small. When Madara found him, he would give the man a death as cruel and dishonorable as befit such a craven.
Bang!
Madara and Hikaku exchanged a worried look before taking off in the direction of the clamor. They passed open and closed rooms. Many patients were still alive and crying for help. Those still in possession of their motor skills struggled to stand and meet their silent assassin in battle. To these, Hikaku offered hushed order to stay hidden and silent while he and Madara dealt with the intruder.
Madara led the way around a tight corner, and the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks. An enemy shinobi splattered with blood that did not belong to him slammed against the wall, thrown out of a hospital room. Haruka, blindfolded and wearing a thin hospital gown, slowly emerged from the doorway, her hands up and ready to strike anything in range.
"Haruka," Madara said, rushing to her side and beside himself with fury that the assassin had reached her and could easily have killed her.
Haruka whirled, shaking in her blindness. "Madara? Is that you?"
"Yes, it's me and Hikaku." He tried hard to stifle the fury in his voice for her sake. "What happened?"
Haruka shook her head. "I heard something, so I got up to check it out. I don't know, I just heard him coming, and I knew I didn't know him. So I fought him. Where did he go?"
Madara turned on the enemy shinobi, who was busy trying to pull himself up. Hikaku drew his sword and stabbed him through the stomach. The enemy groaned in agony as he tried to pull his spilling blood and guts back inside the jagged hole Hikaku had opened up, but it was an exercise in futility. Whimpering and clammy with perspiration and the blood of the patients he'd slaughtered, his dark eyes glazed over as pain washed over him. Stomach acid sizzled as it came into contact with his insides. His death would be slow and painful. Hikaku spit on him for good measure.
"Fucking craven," he said.
"What was that noise?" Haruka said, raising her hands in a defensive position and shaking with adrenaline.
"He's dead," Madara said, tempted to give the enemy a swift kick to his bleeding stomach. "Or will be soon. You need to rest."
Haruka bared her teeth in a snarl. "Fuck that," she spat. "Something's happening, and I want to fight."
"Haruka, you can't," Hikaku insisted. "You already know your condition."
"I can't just sit around while my clansmen are dying!"
The bandage over her eyes soaked with tears. Madara rested his hands on her shoulders to steady her. Her long, black hair hung loose and lush, accenting her unhealthy, pale pallor and the gauntness of her face and neck from days of bedrest. She did not look like herself at all, and it pained Madara to see her like this.
"You're blind," he whispered to her. "You know that."
Haruka covered her mouth to hold back a sob.
"Haruka," Madara said as gently as he could, taking her arms and pulling her close.
"No!" she shouted, wrenching away from him. "I want to fight! I fought him, didn't I?"
The black hatred that had awoken within him upon finding out Tajitsu had betrayed the Uchiha returned, but not directed at Haruka. Directed at himself. How could he let this happen?
"You did," Madara allowed. "But all the same, you can't see."
"You can't fight," Hikaku said. "Madara won't say it, so I will. Without your eyes, you'd just get in the way."
Haruka was deathly still with her bony hands over her mouth and her bare, freezing feet. So frail. Madara had never seen her like this, and it sickened him. It sickened him to see her feeling so useless, like she was nothing and never had been anything at all even though they both knew it was not true.
"Haruka," he tried.
"No," she snapped. "Leave me alone. If I'm such a burden, then leave me alone!"
One of the best of their generation. A promising career as a kunoichi, and the crown jewel of the Uchiha clan. Reduced to this. He could have killed the enemy shinobi already bleeding out on the floor all over again just to fill this hole growing inside and filling with things he'd never thought he'd live long enough to hate.
"Stay here," Madara said. "Whatever you can do, do it. But don't leave. That's an order."
Haruka said nothing, and Madara signaled for Hikaku to move out. They had work to do. But as Madara passed the threshold, he hesitated.
"I'm sorry," he said softly.
"Get out," Haruka said.
The enemy shinobi's blood seeped into the floor of Haruka's hospital room, cold.
More and more of the enemy were slipping past the shoreline defense and penetrating the island proper. Hashirama, with the help of five other Senju soldiers, took it upon himself to protect the Uzumaki civilian population that had not yet evacuated to the safe houses in the innermost part of the island.
A young father carrying a baby in his arms tripped when an enemy shinobi cut off his escape and launched a lightning-based attack at him. The man screamed and ducked to protect the child. Hashirama slammed a hand on the ground and summoned gnarled tree roots from the earth that twisted together to form a protective barrier. The lightning hit the wooden wall and went no further, sparing father and child. With a simple manipulation of chakra, Hashirama redirected the branches to unwind and attack the enemy. They impaled him five times over, nailing him to the ground and an early grave. Hashirama ran to assist the civilians.
"Are you all right?" he asked, helping the young man up.
"Y-Yes, thank you! Thank you so much!"
There were tears in the man's dark eyes, and his child wailed in his arms.
"Where is the mother?"
He looked down. "Mari, she... She didn't make it. They came out of nowhere, and—and I couldn't do anything!"
Hashirama put a hand on the man's shoulder. "It's all right. Lady Mito is overseeing operations at the safe houses. She'll help you."
The man nodded. "Thank you. I owe you my life and my daughter's."
"Just get to safety. That'll be thanks enough."
The man ran off with his wailing daughter, and Hashirama focused once more on the battle at hand. More and more enemies were appearing, and they were beginning to overwhelm his small squadron. Ensui had gone to the shoreline to reinforce the Uzumaki already fighting there, taking his best shinobi and kunoichi with him. Hashirama looked around for something to give him an edge.
"Look out!"
The voice came from somewhere to his left, and Hashirama lunged away from it on instinct. An axe longer than his arm cleaved the ground where he'd stood just seconds ago. A kunoichi in green armor and flowing, blonde hair hoisted the axe up and readjusted her aim. She didn't give Hashirama an inch even to counterattack. Her axe sliced the soft flesh of his thigh when he was too slow to dodge her relentless assault, and she grinned. It was all the distraction Hashirama needed. As she swung her axe back for a destructive blow, Hashirama lunged and grasped the axe's handle over her hands. For a few breaths, they were locked in a game of tug of war, each trying to get a grip on the axe. Until Hashirama released medical chakra through his palms and severed the tendons in her wrist.
The kunoichi cried out and faltered. Hashirama didn't let go. He struck her in the chest with the heel of his palm and pushed her to the ground, where chakra previously channeled through his foot pulled roots from the earth that burst through her heart, her spine, out her mouth and eyes. She was dead before the pain could even register.
The rest of the Senju, however, weren't having as much luck as Hashirama. The enemy outnumbered them, and with civilians in the mix, fighting at full capacity became ever more dangerous. The enemy, of course, did not have such a handicap. One Senju kunoichi took a punch to the gut to save a civilian child who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but the enemy followed up with a devastating earth-based technique that claimed the child's life and the lives of several other civilians fleeing the scene and unlucky enough to get caught up in the earthquake.
"Damnit," Hashirama swore.
He searched around for some way to even the playing field, but all that was around were people's houses, some of them on fire, churned earth, and a Ginkgo tree tunnel leading to the hillside.
"That's it," he said, dark eyes scanning the tunnel.
"Lord Hashirama!"
General Satto Uzumaki arrived on the scene with a legion of soldiers at his back. They were still outnumbered, but the odds looked better. Hashirama waved him over.
"General Satto, am I glad to see you! Listen, I've got a plan, but I'll need your help."
Hashirama gestured to the tree tunnel and briefly explained. Satto was quick on the uptake and barked orders at his soldiers to round up the enemy with any means necessary. Water and wind jutsu popped and flooded the area. Enemy shinobi and kunoichi raced to avoid getting caught up in the dual elemental barrage, too fast to take much damage. Hashirama ordered the Senju to help any remaining civilian stragglers to safety. Blood mixed with the summoned water. They'd lost about half this area's population. But there was no time to think about that.
Hashirama sprinted to the heart of the Ginkgo tree tunnel and dug his bare hands into the earth. Water sluiced by his feet, powered along by chakra-infused winds that cut into his cheeks and left scratches in his armor. He ignored the pain.
"Hashirama!" a Senju shinobi cried out in worry for his leader.
Just a little more.
The Uzumaki pushed the enemy deeper into the Ginkgo tree tunnel, and some of them wandered too deep. Hashirama began to sweat.
No, get out!
There was no time. Wars were never won without casualties. Kawarama and Itama had taught him that the hard way, and it was a lesson he was never going to forget. So he summoned his chakra and released it into the earth, felt it slither out in all directions, merge with the ancient Ginkgo trees and bring them to life. Thick, splintered branches groaned and grew, reaching to the ground like fat leeches in search of blood to feast upon.
They blocked out the sun. They blocked out the screams. Sanada's fighters fell under their greedy caresses that aimed for bodies, it did not matter where. Once caught, there was no escaping the death trap. The Ginkgo tree tunnel fell dark and became impassable, swallowing anyone caught inside like a hungry, black whale that snapped its jaws shut. Hashirama forced himself to look, but there was hardly anything left to see. The trees themselves, deracinated and warped beyond recognition, blocked everything out. Anyone caught inside was never getting out.
Blood and piss and liquefied innards seeped over the ground in a slow-moving ooze, between the twisted branches. Whose blood? There was no telling. Hashirama backed away. The putrid smell of death and fear was overpowering. This was the price of war. The price of hatred. He tried not to think about any Uzumaki who may have gotten caught up in his attack as he ran for the opposite exit of the tunnel to rejoin his soldiers and move on to the next fight.
"Kuchiyose no jutsu!"
Mito held Inari back with one arm while she performed the summoning technique. Sazae appeared from a cloud of thick smoke, towering over Mito several feet. The hot, afternoon sun reflected off her ebony shell, blinding.
"Sazae! I need your help to secure the safe houses! We cannot let the enemy get through!" Mito ordered.
"Right away!" Sazae said.
Mito took Inari by the hand again. "Come on, I have to get you inside."
They ran up the hill toward the safe houses, which were underground. Civilians ran with them, frantic and anxious to get to safety, while other Uzumaki soldiers herded them to the entrance. The enemy launched elemental attacks, fire, lightning, earth, and the bodies piled up at Mito's feet. People she knew, people she didn't. Electrocuted, incinerated, buried at the threshold of safety. Inari whimpered at her side, too frightened even to speak, and she yanked him to her and threw them both to the ground, covering him with her body.
But the onslaught of pain never came. Shifting, Mito chanced a look over her shoulder only to spot a giant, humanoid beast deflecting a bolt of lightning with a long, metal rod. Inari tugged at her collar, and she wrapped a hand around his head.
"M-Mito," he sobbed.
"Shh, it's okay," she whispered. "We're okay...somehow."
The beast pushed back the attackers and spun his rod. It glowed, aflame, and he released a devastating fire-based attack that swept the hill and licked at the trees farther down.
"Mashira! Good work, but let's keep moving!"
Mito spotted Sasuke Sarutobi and Lena, who had a young islander girl by the hand, running toward them. She rose and pulled Inari up with her.
"Sasuke," she said. "And Lena. Thank god you're all right."
The beast summon, Mashira, was a giant monkey taller even than Sasuke. His rust-red fur stood on end, and he leaned on his staff with enormous, chapped hands. Though his expression was mean and surly, he'd just saved Mito's and Inari's lives.
"Thank you for your help," Mito addressed the large summon.
"It's fine," Mashira said.
"Come on, we can't just hang around here. You have to get to safety," Sasuke told Lena.
"Yes, all right."
They reached the entrance to the safehouse, and Mito sent Inari in first, followed by Lena and the young girl she'd picked up. Lena grabbed Mito's hand.
"My lady, aren't you coming?"
"I have to help my father and the others fight," Mito explained. "Stay here. Look after Inari, please."
"Mito," Inari wept. "Don't leave."
Mito smiled. "I'm going to fight the bad men so they can't get you, okay?"
"Okay..."
"Be brave. You'll lead the clan one day, so you have to be strong for everyone, all right?"
Inari wiped his nose, his blue eyes wide with fear. But he nodded. Lena reached for Sasuke before they closed the door to the safe house once more, and he held her tenderly. Mito looked away, not wanting to intrude.
"Be careful," she whispered.
"I haven't stayed alive this long 'cause I'm careful," Sasuke said.
Mito scanned the area below the hill. Sazae was nearby providing cover for more fleeing Uzumaki civilians. Blood and bodies littered the hillside, enemy and ally alike. Mito's hands shook. This wasn't right. This wasn't right.
"So many," she said, counting the dead but losing track.
What was happening at the shoreline? Was the defense holding up? How could so many enemy forces slip through? She had to get there. She had to help Madara and Hashirama and her father and everyone else fighting to save this little island before it was too late.
"Mito, where are you headed?" Sasuke asked, drawing up beside her.
"I have to get to the shoreline. Something's not right. There shouldn't be so many of the enemy here."
"I'm going with you."
"I'll be glad for the help. Sazae!" she called to her snail summon. "Stay here and make sure the safe houses remain secure!"
"Yes!" the large turban shell said from her post.
"That's a good idea," Sasuke said. "You stay, too, Mashira. There're some Uzumaki here still fighting, but they'll need all the help they can get."
"If you insist," Mashira said, dutifully running off to assist Sazae and the soldiers defend the safe houses.
"Well? Ladies first," Sasuke said, gesturing.
Mito took a deep breath. They would have to fight their way to the other side of the island, and there was no telling how long that might take. There was no telling what might happen in the meantime. The sun was already high in the sky. Less than half a day of sunlight left.
"Let's try to move quickly," she said, taking off.
Sasuke followed, and the two of them launched themselves at the enemies standing in their way.
Boom!
Tōka slammed into Tobirama and flung them both several yards backward. They tumbled over each other, and Tobirama wounded his head on the rocks as they went. But this was a minor concern in comparison to the cannonball from which Tōka had just saved them. It exploded on impact with the rocky shoreline, taking several lives with it. Uchiha, Senju, Uzumaki, they all blended together in the face of an enemy whose numbers outclassed them. Even with Ensui's reinforcements, there was little stopping the inundation of enemy shinobi and samurai onto the island.
"Ow," Tobirama said as Tōka shoved off of him.
"You're welcome," she said.
"Aaah, this is stupid!" Tobirama complained. "We're not making any headway at all like this! There's gotta be a better way!"
Nearby, an Uchiha kunoichi was taking a beating from an enemy who pushed her back until she ran smack into a Senju shinobi, causing him to trip and fall under the enemy's sword. Two more Senju soldiers witnessed the attack and converged on the Uchiha kunoichi. Tōka swore and shouted for them to stop, but she was too late. Bad blood and old grudges were bared for all to see as the Senju opened up the Uchiha kunoichi's flesh through her armor. In retaliation, five Uchiha soldiers abandoned their enemies to reap retribution from the Senju.
Tōka ran into the fray, her hands flying through various seals. "Enough!"
All bodies in the vicinity, Senju, Uchiha, and Sanada's men alike, froze in place as though restrained by some unseen force, invisible chains binding them to the narrow spaces around them. Their pupils dilated and saliva dripped from their slack jawed mouths. Tobirama gaped.
"Holy crap." He waved a hand before one of the Senju soldier's faces, but he got no response. "What'd you do?"
"Genjutsu," Tōka said grimly.
Those caught in the illusion convulsed under its powerful neural effects, hallucinating most likely. Tobirama really didn't want to know. Tōka was the best in genjutsu of their clan by a long shot, and even the Sharingan was no guarantee of besting her skills. She finally released the illusion, and those caught in it staggered. Some fell to their knees and vomited. All of them glowered at Tōka with varying degrees of anger and hatred. She returned their glares.
"Senju, let's get back to work," she said.
Tobirama crossed his arms but said nothing. The Uchiha did not look like they were backing down, however, and he began to worry that he might have to take the more blunt approach. Just then, a tall, silver-haired Uchiha appeared. He was dressed in gleaming gray armor, a nobleman or a general judging by his regal looks. He didn't say a word, but the Uchiha returned to their fights with the real enemy without a fuss. Tobirama could not believe his eyes.
"Senju," the silver fox said, nodding to Tobirama and Tōka before passing them by to rejoin his brethren.
"Uchiha," Tōka returned.
"This is all kinds of fucked up," Tobirama said to himself.
"Come on," Tōka said. "We have to do something about those cannons."
"What do you mean, 'something'? They're all the way out in the water! It's not like we can do anything from here."
Tōka reached the shoreline and kept going. Chakra kept her balanced atop the water as she jumped over breaking waves and headed out to sea. Tobirama stared forlornly after her.
"This is the worst day of my life."
But he couldn't let Tōka go out there all by herself. Condemning whatever gods had cursed him with a touch of thalassophobia, Tobirama took a deep breath and raced after her. The water was uneven under his feet, and he instantly disliked it. The sun was beginning to sink on the horizon, casting a shadowy glow over the water and hiding whatever lurked in its depths. Maybe nothing at all but a cold, bottomless grave.
Another cannonball launched into the air and nearly hit Tobirama, but he rolled out of the way in time. A wave crashed and soaked him through his armor. Cursing, he powered up his chakra and quickly flew through the hand seals for the Suiryūdan technique. It took him only three hand seals instead of the usual forty-four after years of training in chakra control—an exercise in self-torture that would pay off today. A ship with blue sails adjusted its course to ram him.
A great, fat column of water rose from the depths of the darkening sea and opened its maw in a howl. Watery scales and horns rose upon the water column, carving it into the shape of a dragon more terrible than any true sea monsters he imagined could be lurking in the deep. Tobirama ran with it straight for the ship with the blue sails.
"I'm the only sea monster here!" he bellowed. "And you're not getting through me!"
The dragon slammed into the ship's port bow, cracking the wood and passing clean through it out the other side. It roared and sank back to the sea. The ship sank with it, and shinobi and samurai jumped overboard to avoid drowning. The ones who could manipulate chakra to run on water came at Tobirama with fire and venom in their veins. He recalled the water dragon, pumped more chakra into it, and let it fly.
Nearby, Tōka was dealing with her own ship. Some shinobi jumped overboard to take her out before she could cause any damage, but she stopped them in their tracks with a crippling genjutsu that cut off their chakra output and sank them to the bottom of the sea like so many stones, never to be heard from again. Invisible hands only she could see clawed their way up the ship's hull, creeping over the deck to possess the sailors controlling it. And with a concentrated burst of chakra, she directed it to sail directly over a nearby whirlpool.
The churning waters groaned against the ship's wooden body, bending it beyond its capacity until finally, the wood gave in to the current. Planks splintered and water filled the interior. Bow first, it plunged into the center of the whirlpool's dark eye, which swallowed it down so fast that Tōka unconsciously took a few steps back for fear of getting sucked in with it. The waters frothed with flotsam and jetsam, but nothing escaped the whirlpool's gravity. In moments, there was no trace of the ship having been there at all.
Tobirama had a clear advantage in the water despite his disdain for the environment. Earth and fire techniques were useless on the open ocean. The enemy's water-based jutsu could not compare to his own. Only a group of three shinobi working in tandem using wind-based techniques were holding their own.
They fired off a wind scythe so large that it cleaved Tobirama's water dragon in half and dispersed the chakra powering it. The razor wind sped toward him, even picking up speed.
"Shit!" he swore as he turned tail and ran for his life.
Even the fastest shinobi of the Senju clan could not always be fast enough.
"Katon: Ryūendan!"
A thin stream of fire soared over Tobirama's head and collided with the deadly wind scythe, infecting it with molten chakra. The fire consumed the air and transformed into the shape of a dragon, which then twisted and turned on its original makers. With a roar, it slammed into the sea at their feet, releasing a hissing cloud of superheated steam that could melt flesh and desiccate bones. If the fire hadn't killed them, the steam surely had.
Tōka ran to Tobirama's side and helped him up where he'd fallen into the water in fear of his life. Once again, he was soaked from head to toe and shivering. Great.
"Are you all right? Where did that even come from?" Tōka asked, giving him her arm to regain his balance.
Tobirama coughed and leaned on her for support. "Izuna," he spat.
He looked over his shoulder and spotted the chakra signature he'd felt pop up just as the razor wind attack was upon him. Izuna Uchiha jogged toward the Senju cousins, his expression smug.
"You looked like you could use a hand, Tobirama. Not that I'm surprised."
Tobirama wrested out of Tōka's hold and advanced on his bitter enemy, dripping water. "Go to hell. No one asked you for anything."
"So, I should've just let that attack rip you limb from limb? As appealing as that sounds, I'd rather do the deed myself," Izuna said.
Tobirama dashed at Izuna faster than the eye could see, startling him. He grabbed Izuna by the front of his armor and lifted him off the ocean's surface, murder in his eyes. He was several inches taller than Izuna and broader in the shoulders. Suspended in midair, Izuna appeared almost fragile, younger than their shared fifteen years. "I should just kill you now," Tobirama said venomously.
Izuna dug his fingers into the joints between Tobirama's arm bracers, drawing blood. His eyes widened with chakra and bled red. Fragile? Yeah, right. Tobirama cursed and released him, knowing full well the consequences of looking into those accursed Sharingan eyes.
"You can try," Izuna said. "Or you could thank me for saving you back there."
"Tobirama," Tōka said, getting in between the two of them. "Izuna. If you two are finished, we have bigger problems."
They followed her gaze to the warships still floating in the waters, all of which had rerouted their courses to converge on the three of them. Shinobi and kunoichi abandoned their posts to attack them en mass, and samurai reloaded the cannons. An armada against three kids.
"Fuck me," Tobirama said. "Tell me this isn't happening!"
"What the matter? Don't think you can handle it?" Izuna said. Sharingan eyes swept the area, carefully assessing the situation in contrast to his petty taunting.
"If we're going to stop them, we have to work together," Tōka said. "Izuna, will you help us?"
"Doesn't look like I've got a choice. I'm not letting another invader set foot on that island when Madara's fighting on his own."
There were so many enemy ships. There was no way one water dragon was going to take them out quickly enough to stop the cannons from firing. The shinobi advancing by foot only exacerbated the problem. They needed something massive that would handle everything at once, something the fast war galleys could not escape or overcome with sheer numbers. Something terrible.
"Tobirama?" Tōka asked.
"I think I have an idea," he said slowly. "But I need time."
"Make it fast, Tobirama," Izuna said as he dashed toward the advancing shinobi.
"I'm going, too," Tōka said. "Hurry."
She followed Izuna and caught up to him. "I'm assuming you can keep up?"
He grinned. "Speak for yourself."
Tōka initiated a genjutsu to give them cover. The enemy shinobi caught in it began to scream as visions of a giant whirlpool clawed at their feet and tried to pull them under where they balanced atop the waves. Some lost control of their chakra output and sank below the water's surface. Others broke out of the illusion and raised counterattacks. Izuna was ready with an illusion of his own.
Building off the hallucination Tōka had woven, he projected himself within the genjutsu, cutting down any soldier in range of his technique. Under the pretense of mortal wounding, the enemy soldiers lost control of their chakra flows and sank into the sea. A vortex of undercurrents created by the multitude of whirlpools in the area made it nearly impossible to resurface. In a matter of seconds, half of the shinobi invaders charging on foot were reduced to nothing but bubbles. Tōka and Izuna had barely moved from their positions.
"Not bad!" Tōka called. "For an Uchiha."
Meanwhile, Tobirama was busy gathering as much chakra as he could for one sweeping attack. He crouched upon the water's surface, hands submerged and trying to concentrate over the growing sense of nausea building in the pit of his stomach with every tidal undulation. This was it, do or die, and if he didn't come through, all would be lost.
His chakra seeped into the ocean depths, carried along the rip tide and eddying around the nearby whirlpools' dark eyes. Hashirama was always telling him that the greatest force of all was the energy in the world around them. That if somehow, some way, one could harness that energy, then surely he would become a splendid shinobi, even legendary.
Well, Tobirama didn't know or care much about the energy of life in general when he was fighting to save his own. But Hashirama did have a point about manipulating the environment to do the work for him. The sun had set, leaving behind the purples and pinks and blues of twilight on the water. But Tobirama didn't need his eyes to see like those damned Uchiha. He reached down as far as his senses could touch, past silky predators cruising in the deep, delicate jellyfish that twinkled with bioluminescence where the sun could not reach them, down and down to the silty, sandy bottom, and deeper still. An entire ocean, twenty-thousand leagues, nine-thousand pounds per square inch, and he was as Atlas, shouldering it all because hell if he would die here today.
Tobirama rose and raised the sea along with him.
Izuna cut down two enemy shinobi with his blades. Tōka was at his back, her breathing steady, like she'd done this a thousand times before, and he knew she had. She was a Senju, after all, and our enemies are only at least as good as we are. Otherwise, they would not live long enough to earn the title.
She bumped him from behind, but when he looked she already was gone, soaring over his head away from an enemy that had gotten too close. Tōka landed on the water with a soft splash and rammed her chokutō just past Izuna's left ear to catch the enemy shinobi behind him through the eye. He sputtered behind them, and Izuna felt the splash of warm blood on the back of his neck catching on his ponytail.
Tōka's brilliant, green eyes narrowed as she pulled back her chokutō and accidentally nicked Izuna's ear, he was so close to the steel. His blood trickled down his neck from the cut she'd given him. An enemy, indeed.
"Not bad," he said. "For a Senju."
A flash of surprised passed through those luminous, green eyes. Tōka opened her mouth to say something, but the roar of water and compressed air drew her attention somewhere over Izuna's shoulder. He followed her gaze. Behind them, defying all sense and reason, the ocean itself rose in the sky. Whirlpools, dozens of them, lifted off the water's surface slowly but steadily. They were inverted waterspouts held up by a power stronger than gravity and the laws of man. Tobirama stood at the center of the maelstrom among frothing waves, carrying it all on his shoulders.
"Oh my god," Tōka said. "He actually did it!"
Izuna narrowed his eyes and looked back at Sanada's remaining naval fleet. They were scattering, as were the remaining grounded shinobi, to avoid Tobirama's monstrous attack. If they dispersed too far, Tobirama would miss and all of this would have been for naught.
"Not yet, he hasn't," Izuna said. "Come on, we don't want to be anywhere near this storm."
They ran to join Tobirama, jumping over the sizeable waves his technique had caused. As they ran, Tobirama launched one of the raised whirlpools at a ship, where it crashed into the ship's hull. Those aboard abandoned ship with more shinobi and samurai taking to the water to join the ranks already fighting on foot. Tobirama swore.
"It's not enough. They're too spread out!" Tōka shouted over the roaring wind and water.
"Then stop them!" Tobirama shouted back. "It's not like I can hold this forever, for your information!"
Tōka tried to focus on just one step at a time, to compartmentalize, to forget about the fact that they were just three teenagers facing down a naval power, the only defense between here and their clansmen fighting valiantly on shore. She summoned her chakra and prepared to execute a genjutsu large enough to cut off the enemy's escape. Yes, come on, she could do this, goddamnit. Tobirama was the speedy sensor and Sasuke the ace in the hole and Hashirama the unmatched genius, but this she could do better than any of them on their best days. Chakra gave her imagination form, pulling from the nightmares she carefully cultivated and tucked away for inspiration. The genjutsu she unleashed projected images of more water spouts rising from the ocean's depths, caging in the escaping ships and shinobi and squeezing them in. It stretched for miles, a continuous illusion made real and populating a world where she was the god exacting her vengeance upon the mortals trapped inside. The scale was staggering, larger than any genjutsu she had ever conjured, but she pulled it off all the same. Her nose began to bleed from the extreme exertion.
"By all means, take your time," Tōka said, her breathing ragged as she drifted in and out of phantasmagoria.
"If I launch them all at once, I'll only have one shot," Tobirama said.
Izuna looked back at the shore where the rest of their clansmen were still fighting for their lives. Only the enemy stood ahead of them. Tōka's genjutsu was frightening, on a scale beyond any he had ever seen or heard of. But it would not last, and they only had one shot. This was going to hurt.
"Then let's make it count," he said.
"What the hell're you gonna do?" Tobirama said, as though the very thought of 'we' offended him.
"Make sure you don't miss."
Izuna crouched down on the water's surface at Tobirama's feet and submerged his hands. Drawing upon all the chakra he could muster in one prolonged stream, he watched it swim along the currents Tobirama was manipulating at a speed the naked eye alone could not detect. Faster than the darkness of the impending twilight, faster than the density of the supercharged water Tobirama had hypnotized into doing his bidding.
"Do it now, Tobirama!" Izuna shouted.
Tobirama let out a battle cry and let loose the chakra holding back the sentient whirlpools. By the twos and threes and fours, they hurtled through the air in swooping arcs and took aim at both the enemy ships and shinobi entrapped by Tōka's nightmare genjutsu. Izuna's palms split under the pressure of his chakra and bled into the dark salt water. Flesh and muscles parted and shredded to the bone as his electrifying chakra roasted him from the inside out. He screamed, but he did not relent.
Lightning, brilliant and yellow, raced along the vast seascape and chased Tobirama's flying whirlpools. It climbed up their trunks, evaporating some of the water as it went and releasing a horrendous, spitting steam. The waterspouts whorled with scintillating light, searing the retinas, the hands of some old gods woken in a terrible rage. Tōka released her genjutsu just a breath before impact, just enough time for the enemy to distinguish reality from fantasy.
The collision was almighty, like the sea and sky themselves had decided to unleash havoc upon the earth and the poor souls upon it. Where Tobirama's water didn't reach, Izuna's lightning jumped and engulfed the targets in fearsome flashes that burned and charred and obliterated. The whirlpools smashed into ships and shinobi alike, plunging them to the darkest depths of the cruel sea and its crisscrossing currents, death traps hidden under the pristine, glittering surface.
Tobirama collapsed on his hands and knees. Izuna slumped next to him. The waves tossed them about, but they managed to stay afloat, barely. Tōka, who was having a hard time standing on her own as it was, nevertheless hauled them both up and leaned them on her shoulders.
Izuna's hands were ripped to shreds and growing ugly boils where the lightning had fried his flesh. The electric burns extended up his arms, but his armor concealed his wounds from sight. Only his blood dripped into the dark ocean, sparking with latent static electricity. He leaned his weight on Tōka, too tired to protest, and she held up his small, lithe frame easily. His eyes had fallen dark, and he squinted into the distance at their handiwork.
"Did we get them?" Tobirama asked, voice hoarse.
"Yeah," Tōka said. "Every last one."
Tobirama let his head fall back. "Thank god. Now I don't have to work with you ever again."
Izuna chuckled. "This may be the first time we've ever agreed on anything."
"At least it's over," Tōka said, dragging them both back to shore.
"Seriously. That sucked balls," Tobirama said. "I'm never lifting up the goddamned ocean ever again, I don't care how totally boss it was."
Tōka bit back a smile. "Whatever you say, Tobirama."
"Well, it was."
Madara grunted as he swung his katana with both hands and decapitated an enemy samurai outside the hospital. But every time he killed one enemy, two more showed up his place. What the hell was Izuna doing? This many enemies should not have been getting past him and the brunt of the Uchiha forces fighting at the beach. Perhaps there was trouble with the Senju. The thought only fueled Madara's anger, and he powered up a Great Fireball that incinerated half the forest in front of the hospital. Hikaku landed behind him and they stood back to back, assessing the area and the space beyond with their heightened sight. After hours of fighting, twilight was encroaching from the eastern horizon, but the night had no effect on Madara's vision. Bodies piled upon bodies for miles. Their blood stood out to him on the grass, bright under the moon's light and filling his nostrils as the wind carried its scent across the island.
In the distance, a roar like thunder reverberated through the island followed by the pungent smell of ozone carried upon the breeze. But a look at the sky showed no sign of a thunderstorm. Madara's first thought was of Izuna, whose Lightning Release was among the most powerful in the Uchiha clan. But Izuna could take care of himself. Madara had other things to worry about as he and Hikaku teamed up against the newest wave of enemy invaders passing through to get to the inner island sanctuary.
Hikaku blew a stream of fire that spread out before Madara and him like a dividing rope between them and the enemies. Madara completed a round of ten hand seals, swung his sword in a low arc at Hikaku's feet, and released a deadly blade of wind. It fed Hikaku's fire technique with so much energy that the fire exploded into a wall of flames, hurtling over itself as it descended upon the enemies.
One kunoichi attempted to counter with a water-based technique, but the fire was too hot, and her attack evaporated on contact. The wall of fire crashed to the ground as though it were a solid, tangible thing, crushing anyone in its path and leaving nothing but charred devastation in its wake. When it dissipated, those who weren't dead were on their way. Their moans carried around the space. Madara walked forward without a word and adjusted his grip on his katana. Approaching the nearest suffering shinobi, he aimed the katana's blade at the man's skull. The skin on the entire left half of his face was burned off to the bone. There was no blood, the fire having cauterized the blood vessels and evaporated any that escaped. Madara brought the blade down in a clean sweep, painless. Nearby, Hikaku performed the same ritual on others barely holding on.
Madara stared down at the life he'd taken. It was no better or worse than the countless others he'd killed today or any other day. Still, he couldn't help but give it a moment, listening to the way the world hushed.
And then, he saw it. An outpouring of red, faint in the dying sunlight of dusk but clearly there. It leaked from the corpse's oozing wounds, a miasma of unknown origin and purpose. Madara watched it rise in wisps, and he noticed small, electric currents sparking within it. Chakra, though he'd never seen a corpse react to death in such a manner.
"Madara, are you seeing this?" Hikaku asked.
Madara followed the floating mixture of blood and chakra as it curled in the breeze like so many ribbons lost to the sky. It drifted away in the direction of the shoreline.
"Yes," he said, intrigued. "I'm going after it."
"What? But what about the hospital?"
"There aren't any more enemies in the vicinity. Stay here, make sure that doesn't change."
"What're you gonna do?"
Madara reached out a hand to touch the floating chakra, enthralled. It burned his skin. "I"m going to find out what's really going on here."
In all honesty, Sasuke had expected to be the one doing most of the work as he and Mito made their way across the island given his near decade of experience on top of hers. But Mito's taijutsu skills more than surprised him. She moved just like the other Uzumaki soldiers, her diligent training plain to see despite her sex and privilege. She could handle herself, and all the better; there were too many enemy invaders to be worried about protecting anyone but himself.
Samurai attacked with chakra-infused swords that could cut through even the thick rock walls Sasuke summoned from the earth as moving shields. One slice and he'd be done for. Meanwhile, Mito was busy slipping past enemy blows with an elegance he had never thought possible for taijutsu. It looked exhausting, but she moved with such caprice that the enemy couldn't quite keep up. One by one, they fell as she delivered blow after bone-crushing blow to throat, back, gut.
Sasuke narrowly avoided a charging samurai. The edge of his blade sliced through Sasuke's cheek, forcing him to turn with the blade to avoid decapitation. His long ponytail ended up smacking the samurai in the face, and Sasuke used the opportunity to twist the samurai's wrist back so far that his arm snapped. Howling in pain, the samurai fell and Sasuke claimed his katana to fend off the others coming to his aid.
Hours of this.
Hours of knocking out one enemy only to find a fresh face in his place. And at some point, Sasuke lost track of Mito. The sinuous garden paths created a maze to one unfamiliar with the geography, and he was soon completely lost. Without much time to look for her due to the constant influx of enemy shinobi and samurai lying in wait for the unwary, there was no telling when or where they'd gotten separated.
"Damnit," he muttered after slitting an enemy shinobi's throat with a dagger.
He dropped the corpse without a second thought and wiped the grime from his brow. The cut on his cheek had scabbed up and begun to itch, but he ignored it. Looking around, Sasuke found himself near a main street in the center of town. Dwellings and shops dotted the edges, their doors hanging open, abandoned. Bodies littered the area, bleeding out. The flies has descended upon them, their soft buzzing a moribund symphony, skin-crawling. Sasuke spit, wincing at the bitter taste in his mouth from too much fighting and lack of hydration. His brown, leather armor was slashed and scuffed in places. Twilight had set in. At least he didn't have to look at the bodies around him.
"Sasuke," a voice called.
Satto Uzumaki and a small group of Uzumaki shinobi approached from the north. They looked worse for wear.
"General," Sasuke greeted. "Good to see you holding up."
"We're all right. I heard you were fighting at the safe houses. Did everyone make it inside all right?"
Sasuke nodded. "Yeah. I left my summon behind to help out. Mito's slug's there, too. The civilians should be safe."
"Lady Mito," Satto said, worry creasing his withered brow. "Did you see her? Is she safe?"
"Dunno. Last I saw her, we were fighting our way to the shoreline, but we got separated."
Satto glazed over, and the Uzumaki shinobi whispered among themselves. Sasuke regretted his words.
"Uh, I mean, hey, she's pretty competent. Seriously, I don't think you have to worry about her. I'm sure she's just fine."
"I hope so. I have confidence in Lady Mito's capabilities, but this situation is unusual," Satto said.
Sasuke put a comforting hand on Satto's shoulder. "It's gonna be okay. She was headed for the shoreline, so we can just meet her there. You don't mind if I join your squadron for now, do you?"
"Please do."
"Well, well, well. Look at you, being kind to the elderly. Someone ought to give you a merit badge for that."
Sasuke froze at the sound of that voice. As though someone had flipped a switch, he forgot all about the Uzumaki soldiers before him. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to run. But he had no intention of fleeing from this fight.
"Kirigakure," he spat. The name was like broken glass caught in his teeth. "Look what the tide dragged in. Trash."
Saizō Kirigakure stood a short ways away flanked by several shinobi that Sasuke recognized as his private guard from their dress. He counted nine. Saizō smiled and spread his arms.
"Look, now I'm the leader of Sanada's Ten Heroes."
"The Ten Heroes are over. You killed them, you fucking turncoat. And now, I'm gonna kill you."
Saizō's smile fell. "We'll see about that."
"Sasuke," Satto said. "You know this man?"
"Ah," Sasuke said, though he kept his attention focused carefully on Saizō, not trusting the man not to play dirty and attack during parley. "Saizō Kirigakure. He's the one responsible for all this."
Satto stepped forward. His gray hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, giving him a severe expression. "In that case, he's not leaving here with his life. Men."
The Uzumaki soldiers spread out, and Saizō's companions mimicked their movements, ready to spring at a moment's notice. Sasuke sneered upon seeing two more familiar faces among Saizō's ranks.
"Kakei, Nezu," he said, old wounds of betrayal flayed open anew at the sight of them beside Saizō. "When I'm done with him, I'll take your scalps for trophies."
Saizō tsked him. "There's no need for rudeness, Sarutobi. Your arrogance always was your weakness."
"I'm with the Senju now. I'm not the same man you knew. You're not leaving here, I swear it on my comrades' graves. The ones you killed."
Saizō said nothing, but something caught his eye. He bared his teeth in a twisted smile. "Oh goody, it's already happening."
Sasuke frowned. "What're you on about now? Enough talk! Let's end this."
Saizō nudged a nearby corpse with his foot. Thick, red mist emanated from a deep gash in the corpse's abdomen. Blood? It was too gaseous, though. It drifted on the wind towards the shoreline. More pockets of the red mist rose from other corpses in the area, all traveling in the same direction.
Saizō laughed. "Excellent. It's going exactly according to plan."
Sasuke advanced, not understanding but knowing his old partner's penchant for the supernaturally cruel better than most. "What the hell did you do?"
"Slow as usual, old friend. It's not what I've done. It's what you've done. All of you."
In the distance, clouds swirled in the sky where before there had been none at all, thick and dull red under the light of the rising moon.
What the hell is that?
"So, let's do this quickly. I have somewhere to be," Saizō said, lunging.
Sasuke crouched to defend, the strange phenomenon forgotten as the battle of his life, the moment he'd dreamed of all these years, finally began.
"Sasuke!" Mito shouted.
Her yelling drew out an enemy shinobi from a ransacked house and assaulted her with a powerful water technique. Mito held out the tantō she carried and faced the water head on. In her free hand she sped through practiced hand seals, and chakra jumped from her hand to the dagger. The water hit her weapon, but it went no further as the tantō absorbed it. The enemy shinobi hesitated, dumbfounded. Mito spun and swung the dagger in a wide arc toward the enemy. The same burst of water gushed forth from the space where the dagger sliced the air. It careened toward the enemy shinobi and pummeled him to the ground. Mito followed the trajectory and brought the dagger down across his throat. His blood mixed with the remains of his own water technique and she pulled herself up, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Her long hair dripped water and blood and dirt, but there was no helping it.
She looked around. The sun had disappeared below the horizon, and she was alone by the Ginkgo tree tunnel's entrance. Through it was a shortcut to the shoreline, so she followed it. But she didn't get far. Something, or someone, had somehow forced the trees to grow rapidly and rabidly, fast enough to trap people inside and doom them to a painful, slow death. Blood dried on the ground, and Mito covered her mouth. She prayed that the people inside were the intruders and not her allies.
"Mito."
Hashirama spotted her from the entrance to the tunnel. His face was smeared with a bit of blood and dirt, and his armor looked dented and scuffed. No better than she looked, she supposed.
"Hashirama, thank god," Mito said, feeling herself relax a little at the sight of him. "I was heading to the shoreline with Sasuke, but we were separated. I don't know where he went."
Hashirama looked at the devastation behind her, his gaze far away. "Sasuke can take care of himself. I was headed to the shoreline too, but I got held up by the invaders here. They just kept coming."
"There are so many," Mito said, shaking her head. "How can there be so many? My father's supposed to be fighting at the beach. I hope he's okay."
"Tobirama and Tōka are there with some of my best soldiers. I'm sure your father is fine."
He smiled a little, and she wanted to believe him. It was easy to believe him, a comfort. She reached for him, but refrained at the last minute.
Madara went off by himself, too. I hope he's okay...
Not knowing was killing her.
"Hey, do you see that?"
Mito looked to where Hashirama was pointing. From between the twisted tree branches turned guillotines, a thick, red, fog-like substance floated out and passed Mito and Hashirama by. Hashirama reached out to touch it and hissed in pain.
"Ouch! It burns," he said.
Mito peered at the stuff. It smelled like blood, but she'd never seen blood behave in such a manner. It floated in the air out of the tunnel, where the wind picked up and carried it in the vague direction of the shoreline. It was more than just a little bit. Pockets of it melded together to form dense clouds heavy with blood that didn't fall.
"What is it?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Hashirama studied the burn on his fingers as his chakra healed it. "Chakra," he said. "Extremely concentrated chakra. It's the only thing that burns like this. But I've never seen anything like this before."
"It's heading for the beach." Mito grabbed Hashirama's hand. "Come on, we should follow it."
Hashirama nodded. "Yeah, I think we should. I have a bad feeling about this."
The beach.
That was where she'd get her answers about Sasuke, her father, the invaders, and Madara. As she and Hashirama ran, the night grew darker. Mito kept an eye on the red miasma hovering above them. The closer they got to the beach, the thicker it became.
"It's coming from all over the island," Hashirama said as they ran.
Slender ribbons of chakra converged from all directions, merging and descending somewhere up ahead. Mito couldn't make out whatever it was due to the tall forest trees on this side of the island and the incline of a hill that led to a cliff overlooking the shore below. But with every passing moment, the foreboding in her heart as to what they might find festered and carved holes inside her.
And then they heard it. A roar so loud, Mito was sure the earth was splitting in two. It was louder than any thunderclap, any raging sea storm. Something was out there, something big. Something mean. The red mist that had been following them had rushed on ahead, and none was left. Like something had drunk it up, all that burning, raw energy.
"What was that?" she asked.
Hashirama said nothing, but he picked up the pace and sprinted the rest of the way. Mito was hot on his tail, trepidation turning to a deep-seated dread that physically hurt her bones. That roar was not of this earth, she was sure of it. They reached the edge of the forest and the cliff's rocky face overlooking a sheltered cove, and they skidded to a halt together. What they saw below was a sight that would haunt Mito's dreams for the rest of her too-long life.
The red chakra mist had gathered into a condensed, roiling cloud taller than the cliff itself. The Uchiha, Senju, and Uzumaki forces that had been fighting at the beach were slowly trickling into the cove, possibly drawn by the same signs as Mito and Hashirama. The mist was too thick to see through, but Mito didn't need eyes to get the idea.
Monster.
Like breathing, this fear was instinctual. Full-body. There was no escaping it. It was like the dreams she sometimes had of drowning in the pits of the dark, cold whirlpools that entrapped Uzushiogakure on all sides, except this was real. Stare too long, and they would stare into her, too.
But she could not look away. She couldn't look away when a taloned paw, larger than a house, reached out from the depths of the mist and flexed and slashed the rocky shore under razor-sharp claws. Frozen in fear, Mito could barely think, let alone take any action. What could she do against this thing? Whatever this was?
"That's..." Hashirama trailed off, equally august.
It roared again, but this time Mito could make out a bright glow from somewhere within the fog. The light popped and extinguished, and another paw appeared, this time with incredible celerity, as though chasing something.
"Madara!" she screamed.
Madara flew backwards, limp, and the colossal paw swiped at him, wounding him further. He crashed on the rocky beach like a lifeless doll, rolling several yards. He didn't get up.
Hashirama had gone pale at the sight, deathly silent, as Mito began to sob uncontrollably. The creature, whatever had done this to Madara, bellowed its rage. Long fingers, or maybe tails of some sort, rose from the red smoke, swishing it in hateful lashes. Mito sank to her knees as the image of Madara flying backwards, totally lifeless, replayed in her mind's eye over and over and over. He just lay there on the rocky beach where he'd landed.
"One day, I'll lead the Uchiha clan."
He didn't get up. He didn't even move.
"No, no, no," she wailed.
"This world is ours for the taking. We can turn our dreams into reality."
Hashirama stepped forward, his eyes trained on Madara. He still said nothing, the shock of what had just happened too overwhelming.
"I can see everything."
Every touch, every look, every whispered name. When did she grow to love her name so much?
Gone.
"Come with me."
She screamed with the will to wake the dead, and they woke. Their phantoms grew inside her, tore her apart, and she let them. But she didn't break, not as the tears fell fat and hot on her cheeks, blurred her vision. Not as the thought that she'd never hold Madara again tempted her to a dark place. This was not the end.
"Madara!" she screamed again.
All the pain, all the anger, all the beauty and tragedy of him gathered in the pit of her heart and burst. This heart that had led her here, to him, under the light of the moon and those eyes that could see her best in the dark. All of it bursting, clawing, free.
"Mito!" Hashirama called to her.
Mito barely heard him over the beating of her heart, whole and strong because someone had to be. She ran, one foot in front of the other, her hair a wild mess behind her, as bloody as the demonic fog hiding the monster within—over the edge.
Hashirama watched her fall and never hit the ground. A dozen golden chains burst from her back and swooped around her. They crashed into the rocky beach at wicked points, stopping her fall and giving her wings. They sped towards the chakra-heavy cloud, the knives at their ends searching for an entrance, anywhere. The creature's tails continued to sweep the mist away, revealing more and more of its true form.
Mito flew through the air, carried upon the wings of an ancient power and fueled by the heart she'd ripped open to summon them. Her tears continued to fall, but she didn't care. All that mattered was stopping this thing from finishing its kill, if it hadn't already. She shot an arm forward, unsure how to command the scintillating, golden chains but trusting her instincts. Four chains flew ahead of her, pierced the fog, and latched onto something solid. It resisted and pulled back, taking her with it.
"No," she spat. "You're not getting past me!"
The creature roared, perhaps sensing her bold defiance.
Hashirama sprinted down the cliff face with the aid of chakra, having snapped out of his previous stupor. There was no time to question anything. Not why Mito knew Madara. Not what this strange power was. Not even the monster that was the cause of all this. There was only Madara bleeding out into the sea, broken. Hashirama reached his side and hauled him into his lap. His hands shook.
"Madara, come on! Stay with me, buddy!" he pleaded.
Green chakra flared to life in Hashirama's palms as he assessed the damage. Multiple puncture wounds that reached out the other side of him. Countless fractures. Heart failure in thirty seconds. His vision blurred, and Hashirama blinked the tears away.
"You can't die on me, idiot. I won't let you!"
Mito continued attacking the creature hidden in the bloody mist. She grabbed onto one of the chakra chains, surprised at its cold solidity despite its intangible nature. Seals flickered upon its length.
That's it, she thought. That's what I have to do.
Manipulating the chains as best she could, she directed numerous chakra seals through the chains, hoping to hinder her target and sap its energy.
Hashirama continued to pump healing chakra into Madara. The process was too slow, but it was working. Other shinobi, Uchiha, Senju, and Uzumaki, drew closer but were loathe to get in range of whatever this hell-beast was.
"Ha...Hashirama," Madara groaned.
"Haha!" Hashirama laughed through his tears. "You bastard, I thought you'd died there for a minute!"
Madara coughed, and Hashirama continued to heal the worst of his injuries. Madara soon pushed himself up on his elbows as the pain ebbed and his strength returned. He winced in pain as he put weight on his shoulders. Hashirama hadn't healed everything.
"What's going on?" he demanded.
Then, he spotted Mito doing battle with the creature. A surge of hatred forced a change in his eyes from Sharingan to the next level, which he hadn't used since awakening it in the campaign.
"Get up," he said to Hashirama. "She can't fight it alone, damnit. Mito!"
Mito landed on the ground. At least twelve golden chains extended from her back, half of which had disappeared into the miasma, while the other half kept her grounded. They glowed with ancient runes, seals Madara didn't recognize. But whatever she was doing, he knew it wouldn't be enough. Not against this thing. Not after he'd already tried and failed.
Mito sent a final burst of chakra through her awakened chains to subdue the beast, but in the end, she only managed to anger it further. A light crackled to life somewhere within the fog, and she gasped. It was just like what had happened to Madara. Acting quickly, she manipulated her chakra chains and lifted off the ground once more. They propelled her backwards at high speed and formed a protective shield in front of her. Not seconds later, a fearsome burst of raw energy torpedoed through the mist and crashed into the cliff face. It exploded on impact, so loud that Mito heard only ringing. The entire cliff came apart at the seams. Giants slabs of rock and uprooted trees crashed to the shore below.
Fearing for Hashirama and Madara, Mito looked back and searched for them. Her heart soared and her tears fell anew at the sight of them dashing toward her. Madara reached her first and skidded to a halt in the loose rubble at their feet.
"Mito," he said, breathless.
"You're okay," she sobbed. "I... I thought I'd lost you."
He took her hands in his and helped her up. Hashirama joined them and lent Madara an arm to lean on. The golden chakra chains floated behind Mito, their sharpened points aimed once more at the bloody mist and the creature within.
"I'm a medical ninja," Hashirama said to Mito as he lent Madara more of his healing chakra. "I'm just glad I got to him in time."
Hashirama and Madara exchanged a look, but Mito didn't care about whatever their feud may be as Senju and Uchiha. All that mattered was that Madara was alive. That Hashirama had saved him. She wiped her tears and stood on her own once more.
By now the mist was all but cleared up, and the monster was finally revealed for all to see. Dark fur, a deep, rich auburn, coarse. Paws with talons thicker around than a man. It towered taller than the highest cliff on the island, which it had also just destroyed. And its nine, slender tails slashed back and forth like blades, cutting the air and generating chakra like electricity. It hurt to breathe the air around it.
"Kyuubi," Hashirama said. "It's just like the legend."
"It's a monster," Madara scoffed. "And monsters can be killed."
Its feral hatred was so palpable that Mito could taste it on her tongue. Familiar, she thought. The Kyuubi loomed over the three of them, brought together by its terrible power and the threat it posed to the island they'd been fighting so hard to protect. Senju, Uchiha, and Uzumaki.
"So let's kill this one," Mito said grimly. "It's not taking another step."