Not much for me to say here. It's a relatively long one, so I'll just get to it. I'll try one more time, though.

Is there actually anyone out there? Would anyone benefit from a brief summary of events so far?

Anyway, best let you get going.

"Well…. I'll be damned."

Belletriste dropped the compact binoculars and glanced to his right.

"You were right after all. Good job, boy."

Naruto repressed the growl that was building inside of him, knowing that it would only make the teasing worse. For the past week, he had been treated like the man's personal blood hound, using his Sage Mode to track down the rest of the enemy combatants that had escaped their snare. It had been a long week at that, and both rations and patience were wearing thin.

He settled for a stony glare, his Sage-enhanced features hopefully making it more frightening than he could have normally hoped for. To both his relief and ire, the man seemed to ignore both the glare as well as his own comment as he buckled straight back down to the business at hand.

"Now, are you sure that everyone you sensed is accounted for down there?"

Naruto nodded an affirmation.

"What about other shinobi? I thought that repressing one's chakra was a common skill."

Once again, Naruto wondered just how much information the man was privy to, but answered him unfalteringly besides.

"That's true that we can hide our chakra, and I am almost positive that's what a few of them are doing down there. But there is no way to hide your life presence from a sage." At least, none that had so far been discovered. "There are at least four shinobi. But I can't tell how strong they are, because as you say, they are doing a good job at masking their presence. As best I can tell, they look like a couple of Genins and maybe a Chunin, but I hardly think that is the case." He looked over to Karui who only nodded to confirm the summation. Her sensing skills still superior to his own.

Their NCO nodded as well in understanding.

"I think it's safe to assume they know they have other shinobi after them. Wouldn't be any other reason to hide their signatures in any other case. Thankfully, they probably don't know how many we have, given that the only slip up was the stunt whiskers here pulled." He jerked a finger at Naruto who was more amply able to ignore the offhanded insult, knowing he was in the right for what he did. How was he supposed to know that they had a shinobi capable of blocking his wind attack?

"Sir, do you think that they are just doing that as a precaution? Do they have any reason to assume that we followed them?" Conrad gave his two cents in a diminutive tone, unsure if he was asking an obvious question. Thankfully for him, Belletriste seemed to be giving the question some serious thought.

"Well?" He said at last, looking at the three shinobi of his unit. "Do we?" He posed them the same question. They hesitated to answer, unsure if this was a kind of test or not.

They glanced among themselves, considering with what information they had, what could be inferred by the actions they were observing now. It was a hard call, but given that there did not seem to be any active patrols guarding the encampment, they found it safe to assume that they were not expected.

Their leader agreed with their deduction, but continued to urge caution.

"I'll tell you what," He paused, picking at a splinter that had lodged under his fingernail with his teeth. "I still don't like these odds. You say there's four of them. That's four that we know of, and additionally we don't know how much of a threat they are. And add to that the two dozen local fighters… forgive me if I don't place that much faith in your capabilities just yet."

For once, they actually could. While they were sure of their own strengths and abilities, they were indeed ignorant to those of the enemy shinobi down below. Logic dictated they should not be unduly strong, though. All of the former S-class shinobi had been accounted for, as well as the majority of A-class. They should also have the advantage of surprise, but that was not a guarantee. As experienced fighters they knew their own weaknesses, and if luck had it that the shinobi they would face against were their reciprocals in nature, they might be in serious trouble in a fair match up.

However, they were shinobi, and fair was not a necessity.

But why the hesitation? Why all of the deliberation? Had it been an order from their Kage, they would not have given it a second thought past the plan of attack. Coincidentally each of them realized at the same time that they were receiving the uncertain feelings of their commander, who for the first time since they had met him did not seem to have the answer.

Such a void of guidance should have scared them in this instance, but for Naruto it provided an opportunity. As incredulous as it seemed, he would have to step up and provide the conviction that for whatever reason their leader currently lacked.

"Just relax sir."

Belletriste ceased his mulling and gave Naruto the entirety of his attention.

"You may not be a gambler, but just ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell you I have the devil's luck." He shot the man a thumbs up and a toothy smile much to his amusement. "If you are worried, you can stay back here with Conrad and let us take care of it. We're the expendable ones after all, right?"

The snarky pep-talk seemed to do the trick as the man just shook his head at the blond's antics. Still, there was some lingering sobriety that Naruto managed to catch just behind the heavy glass lenses.

"Hardly…"

"So, it's settled then?" Tenten ventured after a short pause, overtly eager to see some more action, considering her relatively minor role the last time. She received a nod and hum of confirmation, and had to restrain herself from squealing like a schoolgirl as she thought of her weapon scrolls she had squirreled away unbeknown to the others.

"So what's the plan?" Naruto asked now that his superior seemed fully onboard. "We going to attack them at night?"

The man shook his head.

"No, as much as I hate to admit it, everyone down there probably has better night-fighting capabilities than we do. At least, better than me and Moses here." He nodded at the young man who shrugged, also accepting it as the truth. "No, we'll attack them at sunset. We'll have the sun at our backs, plus they should still be tired from the hike."

Naruto frowned at this announcement. Sunset was just a few hours away, and their foes were not the only ones still exhausted. Normally it wouldn't have been a problem, but he had not been sleeping all that well the past couple of nights. He had been dreaming, of his past, of that day in particular, when everything changed and he lost it all. It was one of the reasons he preferred not to dream anymore.

He had been hoping to be able to at least get a few hours of rest before such a strain. He was not as resilient as he used to be. It was unfair, but he was a bit resentful of that fact. His whole life had been preordained by the demon sealed within his stomach. He had endured through all of it, then, and now, what was it all for?

Belletriste saw the hastily hidden expression of displeasure, however quick it may have been.

"Is there something the matter Uzumaki?"

He reflexively shook his head, not even alert enough to notice that he had been addressed by his actual name. He was concerned with maintaining the surety he had displayed earlier, for the sake and safety of his team. They could not afford to hesitate.

His commander looked at him with a blank expression that would have looked more appropriate on Sai, but said nothing more on the matter. But Naruto was not entirely sure he had been believed. Regardless, they needed to press on.

"Right then. Tamura, you're with us. We'll be needing that extra firepower you brought along." He gestured to Tenten, but even more specifically to her pack that she had temporarily removed and propped against her bent legs.

Tenten had the decency to blush, realizing that she had perhaps not been as surreptitious as was prudent. It was sloppy ninja work to assume that the one in charge had not noticed an additional set of scrolls packed away with the rest of the standard gear.

"Moses, you'll be Red's spotter."

The other two readily agreed to this arrangement. Conrad, knowing that he probably wouldn't be much help in comparison to the other shinobi in the brute work of the ambush, and Karui just glad that her nickname had been upgraded from "Dyke" to "Red".

Naruto didn't need to be told where he fit in.

Belletriste looked down to his watch, an ancient looking thing with a leather band. He brushed off some of the omnipresent dust that had accumulated on its face.

"Great. Time enough for a nap. I suggest you all get some sleep, I'll stay up and keep watch."

Maybe he wasn't so bad after all?

"Finally! How long have we been out here in these miserable hills? Two months? Kami I miss the sea. It'll be nice to at least be able to get a real bath and sleep in a warm bed. None of this wool-blanket shit and sanitary wipes!"

To emphasize his point, the scraggly young man finished wiping away the day's dust from his face with the paper-thin wet cloth and tossed it into the campfire, causing the orange flames to die for a moment and smoke profusely as the residual moisture evaporated. Then, another log was tossed on top of it and the towelette disappeared completely.

They had risked building a fire for their campsite, which just went to show how confident they were in their ability to make it back to their basecamp without further delays. Though not entirely sure that they had ditched the recon team that had intercepted their other party, they felt that it was likely enough that they had. And if indeed they were stumbled upon, the absence of a fire was more suspicious than the presence of one. They did have a right to be here after all. The men they traveled with were natives through and through.

And if it even came that close, a confrontation was already inevitable.

The other man subject to the complaining of the first, nodded in partial acceptance and thumbed the next page in the small book he was holding. He scratched his chin under the thick salt and pepper beard that he had been growing for that whole time, already knowing that he was going to keep it, but nonetheless wishing for a chance to run a comb through it and scrub the caked-on dirt that he hadn't been able to dislodge.

"Mmm. For once I agree with you. It would be nice to enjoy a hot bath and scrub off at least the top layer of filth." He admired his own palm, nearly as dark as the men they were traveling with because of said dirt, but also because of the countless days out in the sun, which was more sever at such altitudes. "Cleanliness, is after all, next to godliness. Inshallah, we will be back before noon tomorrow."

The younger man who seemed only able to grow the stubble on his face, narrowed his eyes in distaste at the colloquial turn of phrase.

"Don't tell me that you are actually buying in to all of this religious shit? What, were you some kind of monk before you came out here?"

The older man sighed, seeing the impending argument. He wasn't going to be able to get anywhere in his religious text anytime soon, so he shut the worn leather binding. His finger lingering on the gilded filigree before carefully tucking the precious object away on the inside of his Kameez, just under his heart.

"No," he responded at last, without taking his eyes away from the dancing flames. "like you, I too was a shinobi. And like so many of our kind, I sought purpose in the outside world, once it became clear that our homes no longer needed our kind."

"Huh, purpose." The man scoffed, and spit viciously into the flame. "That's the problem with working with guys like you. I'll bet you were a faithful shinobi right up until they told you they didn't want you anymore? Unlike me, you still had faith in a village to protect you. In fact, I almost want to thank those moronic politicians for what they did. They finally were able to show their true colors and tell everyone to their faces that they weren't going to be able to take care of everyone."

The more veteran shinobi did not seem to let this harangue against their collective homelands upset him in any way. In fact, he nodded gravely indicating his concession to the brash young nuke-nin who strutted his slashed headband worn like a sash over his own native disguise.

"What you say is true, to an extent. It was indeed a great shock when they took away our pensions and forced people like us out of the reserve forces. However, I believe it was their right to do so. As the new generation, the one that is going to lead us into the future which, inshallah, is better and brighter than the one men like you and I suffered in, certain sacrifices need to be made."

Now he stared coldly at the former missing-ninja, brown eyes locking onto the youngling's faltering stare. He had the convictions of youth, which were violent and blameless, but so often fleeting. He did not realize that he had been given an unprecedented second chance, to reflect upon the follies of his youth and correct them before he died in a blaze of glory, burning everything that he touched. He could see it now, in those flickering flames which danced in his eyes.

"And if they need to cut loose old dogs like me, incapable of learning new tricks, and rabid hounds like you who only crave the next battle, then so be it. Here at least is a place where both our kind can find purpose, though you have the right not to if you so choose. I think that is a mistake. I, believe that it was a divine will that allowed an old man like me to find purpose again, and in doing so, lend help to those in need. I am not so foolish a coot to believe that the foreigners in their knowledge are deities, nor am I ignorant enough to think that none exists in this fearful new world. Whatever you may call him, Kami, Buddha, God, Allah, it does not matter. As long as you try to do good in this world and honor the gift of life you have been given."

There was a heavy silence at the end of the man's speech, where the younger, petulant young colt actually seemed to cow and reflect on what was perhaps the greater experience of the other man. For just a moment, the only sounds were of the crackling fire and the afternoon breeze as the gusts ruffled the pine needles far above.

Then there came the monophonic sounds of chanting, voices mumbled and out of sync, and the temporary spell was broken.

"Tch." The younger man sneered again as they both watched the local warriors they had been traveling with as they collectively got down on their hands and knees, praying in the same direction on severely worn rugs that were crowded next to one another like matchsticks in that little clearing among the trees.

"If you are so grateful to this 'Allah' of yours, why aren't you over there praying with them? Isn't that, like a mortal sin or something?" He shot the man a smirk, which was ignored as once again the book was brought out from the folds of his loose cotton shirt and he cracked it open to where the ribbon had been draped over the page.

"As I told you," the man spoke quietly as he prepared to be lost in his book, anxious to use the last rays of sunlight before they fell behind the peak. "What matters is to do what is right. One does not always have to follow the letter." He smiled at the irony himself as he got to the end of the fluid calligraphy that was so different than his native script, though it read in the same direction. He had been practicing for months now, and the language still eluded him, but the words were art, both written and spoken.

"Besides, I think it prudent that at least a couple of us take watch."

"Whatever." The older man frowned with his nose in the book as whatever words passed between the two of them seemed to have been lost to the echoes of the mountains.

"I'm going to go take a shit."

At that, the ex-nukenin pushed himself off the ground and tried dusting off his own Shalwar Kameez, before realizing the futility of it and trudging off to find a tree he could do his business behind with some measure of privacy. Although, despite words and attitude to the contrary, when he stood up, something seemed to grasp him, and the waning light which filtered through the trees turned the gnarled trunks and thorny branches a golden hue. For just a split second within the throes of mundanity, he was overcome with a powerful presence. A significance in the smallest of changes.

"Huh."

The old man looked up from his book at this quiet exclamation.

He dropped his book as the other man's head exploded outwards.

Before either had hit the ground, he had already replaced himself with a nearby section of a fallen tree.

He watched from the other side now, as the pinprick hole he saw appear in the man's head, on this side resembled a hammer strike in a watermelon. He watched the look of sheer incredulity as the man laboriously dropped to his knees then slumped over. Already the camp was in uproar. Already, his mind was in action.

It might have been a stretch to say that he was too old to learn a thing or two. When confronted with firearms, one learned quickly or died. The sharp crack of the rifle, and the wet one as the man was eviscerated from the neck up happened near simultaneously, which meant the shooter was close. Which meant the rest of their team was close as well.

He cursed, reaching behind himself for a kunai. It was obvious that they were dealing with the same unit from before, and if they had already managed to sneak up on them without their notice, it was obvious too that their shinobi was nearby.

"How about you just drop your weapon?"

The veteran shinobi only replied with a quick spin as he let loose the kunai he had palmed moments before. The man who snuck up on him, kitted out in mostly standard military garb and with a scarf covering his face, lazily dodged the knife, not even bothering to level his rifle.

"I'll take that as a no."

The old shinobi smirked, but not at the seemingly carefree attitude. He was simply glad that the person they had sent in first seemed to have trouble killing adversaries. Whoever he may have been in the shinobi world, if he did not learn this critical lesson he was not to last long in his new role. For all of his lofty ideals and grizzly experience, the old man most certainly had no such reservations.

Never having relinquished possession of his rifle, the older man simply swung the Type56 on its sling and fired off a burst from his hip. At this range, most of his shots would go astray, but most of his ninjutsu would not have enough room. He was just giving himself some.

He had not expected the sprayed bullets to hit, and so was unsurprised when the younger shinobi- for clearly that was what he was- dodged the stream with incredible speed. Undaunted, the man had already molded chakra for one of his most practiced techniques.

He had no need to use hand-seals or even say the name of the technique as an earth wall erupted between the two of them. Before his opponent could find a way around, however, the man leapt over his own defense, much to the apparent shock of the other ninja for such brazen tactics, knowing himself to be a clearly more fit adversary. But this was an assumption the older fighter would try best to dissuade, as he engaged the younger man in a bout of taijutsu, taking advantage of the high ground the slope afforded him, and preventing the younger man from using his own firearm.

Internally, Naruto berated himself using words he had picked up from his time in basic. At the first face-to-face with another shinobi, he had fallen strait back in to his usual habits instead of taking the man out quickly and efficiently. Now, he was mired in a taijutsu match, which, while he was certain to prevail due to his stamina and strength, he was embarrassingly outmatched when it came to technique. He doubly cursed as he had to consciously prevent himself from using his shadow clones, and took a right hook to the face for his trouble.

He went skittering down the increasing slope, but very quickly managed to right himself, and even while he was falling back let out a bullet of compressed air from his mouth. The other ninja, who looked suspiciously like the local fighters with his shaggy beard and local dress, handily dodged it and began weaving through a series of seals. The air cannon however, impacted the erected earth wall and broke off a fair number of boulders which came tumbling down at him.

Naruto grit his teeth as he suddenly realized that the wall had been erected to separate himself from the rest of his team and box him in on the downside of the valley. His opponent may have known from the first that he was no match for Naruto's stamina, but he had already succeeded in drawing him away and using up precious seconds of time which he could use to help his teammates. He could not afford to waste any more.

For once glad to have footwear with a covered toe, he dug in the front of his boots and arrested his slide. Then he dashed upward, temporarily ignoring the falling rocks as he took aim at the enemy ninja who had just finished his seals. The ninja, just realizing what was happening, was forced to abort his technique as a wild volley of fire was directed at him. He leapt back up onto his wall, only to be sent flying as a grenade blew off another goodly chunk of it beneath his feet.

Naruto smirked as he now faced the redoubled landslide approaching him. He was no longer concerned, and was instead struck by one of his brilliantly jerry-rigged ideas, admittedly inspired by his inability thus far to replicate his father's Hiraishin.

And as far as his teammates, well, he wasn't that concerned. They should be able to take care of themselves.

Karui nailing the arrogant ninja in the head was the agreed upon signal. And even as the collective group of insurgent fighters rose off their prayer rugs in a mass of panic and anger, Tenten too rose from her crouched location behind a large boulder in a twin helix of smoke which resembled the namesake of her technique.

"Rising Twin Dragons!"

She couldn't help it as the name slipped out of her ecstatic lips during her ascent, and she relished in the looks of abject fear she had instilled upon the once hardened fanatics. Many still managed to let off a few rounds in her direction, but they were too shocked to aim properly. And she was already thoroughly obscured by her technique for them to get a good bead anyway.

The clearing's canopy afforded just enough room for her to deploy the majority of her arsenal, and as she reached her apex the cloud of weapons was already loosed on its unstoppable descent towards their crowded targets. There was no dodging this surprise attack.

But even as some of the bladed implements were tickling the hairs on the men's beards, a sudden, impossibly strong gust of wind halted them in their tracks so that they hovered mere millimeters from their target as if suspended in a giant wind tunnel. They soon clattered to the ground as Tenten too began to fall much the same, abject shock present on her face.

Before she could even ready the second attempt, two turbaned fighters leapt to the fore of the group, and one of them sent another gale her way with a slash of their kusarigama.

Using the wires attached to each weapon that would have facilitated her follow-up shot, Tenten instead pulled herself down to the ground in haste, taking cover behind the same boulder as before. Though she already knew it was the right decision, curiosity caused her to look up and see what would have become of her had she stayed in the technique's path.

The tops of a dozen sturdy pine trees being seamlessly severed told her all she needed to know. But she still lamented the mitigation of her own attack, even though she knew it was not entirely in vain.

The two enemy shinobi, distinguished only by the shemaghs that were wrapped around their heads and which hid their facial features, quickly moved to close in on the grounded kunochi. The one who had just cast the wind-jutsu simply glanced to their comrade and ushered a silent command which the other unquestioningly followed, beginning a series of hand-seals in preparation for an earth-jutsu.

It was clear the one with the wind nature was the leader of their group. Not only were they the one to issue commands, they also seemed to be the most skilled among the four, rather three. They also managed to leap to the side in time to avoid a well-aimed burst of rifle fire from the side which struck down their teammate in the midst of his sequence. Down to two, it was up to her and Naruto now.

They also managed to avoid the next burst of fire from the side, as well as the one after that, letting the stray rounds impact the local fighters who were still trying to flee the sudden onset of chaos and find a defensible position. They cartwheeled aside, managing to cast a small but incredibly sharp blade of wind at the source of the fire.

Belletriste suddenly stopped shooting in support of his comrade and threw himself to the ground as the blade of wind whizzed past his head. A chip of the stone he was taking cover behind landed on his head which was pressed as far down to the ground as he could manage. He rolled sideways along the gravely terrain just as another, vertical wind-blade bisected that same boulder including a good rut of earth behind it. He threw himself down into a small crag which afforded a modicum more protection before he allowed himself to do anything else but dodge.

He laughed, chuckled quietly to himself as he checked the rounds in his clear-plastic magazine, deciding to change it out while he had a spare second. After all, this was getting fun and he didn't want it to end so soon.

Thankfully, he had fostered enough chaos for a distraction, allowing Tenten to reemerge from her cover and reengage. Which she did. With a vengeance.

"I just want everything in that direction to DIE!"

She screamed out so that whatever deity controlling the irony of the situation would stop pitting her against wind users, and so that everyone in the immediate area could hear her over the death-rattle of her M249 eating away at the 200-round drum feeding it.

Said wind-user silently cursed their own situation having lost their teammate who would have been able to defend against the maelstrom of fire with their earth techniques. But far from losing their trained cool like the stir-crazy kunochi was doing, they were still in total control of the situation. If they had to lose a few rebel fighters or even a couple of shinobi, it was worth it to be able to inflict such a blow on their enemies.

Tenten was breathing heavily as the gun clicked empty, and against her better judgement as well as her training, she hefted the smoking weapon into the air so she could survey the damage she inflicted. More than twenty bullet-ridden corpses lay strewn about the small clearing in a tangle of arms and armament. But with all of the uniform and baggy clothing obscuring the outlines, she could not tell if she had managed to kill the one she had really wanted to.

To her credit she was not arrogant enough to assume she had. She was proven right as she managed to move her nose away just in time to avoid a downward strike that would have left her with a pig's face. Not managing to dodge the razor-sharp weapon entirely, though, the light machine gun in her grip was knocked downward out of her grip and away from the close-quarters fight. She hadn't even noticed the descending shadow before the whistle of the blade tickled her ears. Her opponent was good.

But she was too, and as survivors of the last great shinobi war, they were neither about to let the other end their streak so easily.

As the disguised ninja prepared for a horizontal slash at the female ninja/soldier, they were caught off-guard when the other person stepped in to the expected blow, intercepting the shaft of their scythe with a forearm. They quickly had to shift to the defensive and abort the slash as a kick tried to find its way to their ribcage.

Following the roundkick to the midsection, Tenten quickly dropped to all fours, and using both her momentum, as well as skills from being Rock-Lee's teammate, she lashed out with spinning kick upward to her adversary's chin.

The attack hit its mark, but the masked-nin did not even show that it phased them beyond back-flipping away from the blow. It could even have been planned, as now once again they had the distance required to use another wind attack.

Tenten grit her teeth as the sudden gale encompassed her, and she could feel her feet strain against the ground as her body wanted to take off like a kite. So, she let it.

Seeing the one who had ambushed their cell get blown high into the air by the hasty wind attack, the scythe-armed ninja immediately pressed the advantage they had leveraged, aiming to strike the kunochi as she helplessly fell.

"Not going to happen!"

Tenten spat out to herself underneath the roar of the wind as it swept her up and away. Catching her enemy preparing for an obviously deadlier jutsu, she smirked and pulled her flailing arms in towards her body, righting herself like a gyroscope, but also drawing taught the near-invisible strings she had never let go of.

The leaves which were kicked up by the sudden gust danced around the channels carved through the air by the ninja-wire, and the masked-shinobi felt their eyes widen, knowing what it portended. They did not need to look behind themselves to see the hundreds of blades speeding at them. They pivoted on the heel of their leather sandals, redirecting their prepared attack to protect themselves from the incoming hail of weapons.

Predictably, the blades all swam around the bubble of air projected from the ninja's kusarigama. But even they, in their protective sphere, did not notice when some of those weapons lodged into the surrounding trees.

Tenten could feel when the weapons found purchase in the sturdy trunks, and felt both joy and pain as the wires went taught and she halted in mid-air. Jerking back with all of her strength, she was sent rocketing at the back of her opponent, totally unaware of the human-slingshot they had unknowingly aided in.

This time, she simply let her boots do the talking as the formerly-polished leather left an ugly black mark on the other ninja's headwrap. She saw them go flying back, right in-between two tall pines like goal posts and then hit the wall of rock that had been erected at the start of their assault. They hit with a brutality that Tenten silently reveled in, cratering and knocking off a sizable chunk from the crumbling wall.

She watched callously as they tried to get up, but she was not about to give them the chance, either. As soon as she landed from her kick, she charged down the hill at them, drawing a slung pry-bar she had 'rescued' from the unit's door-breaching kit.

The other ninja barely seemed to have recovered from the concussing blow, and had just lifted their head to see the ugly-black bar careening down at their head. They instinctively blocked with their own weapon, which was knocked to the side. Before they could recover, though, the mad girl with the crowbar took the hooked end and stabbed the fork into their face with such force that it became imbedded.

"Gotcha, you son of a-"

But cut her vindictive statement short as she realized that the not-very-sharp tool had sunk too far into the person's skull. But by the time she realized that, her hand was already partly mired in the mud which dissolved from the impacted face.

As her mind reeled from the reversal of position as well as the sudden usage of a second chakra nature, she barely noticed the body emerge next to her from the massive wall.

"Sorry kid,"

He was already so close she could hear his whisper, and practically felt the severed air from the impending kunai as it loomed over her trapped form. She shifted her hips, using her free hand and drawing her own knife in an attempt to stave off the inevitable, but with her mobility severely hampered by the mud-clone, she held little hope of being able to defend at such close quarters.

Her mouth parted in a sharp intake of breath, and it was at that moment that the enemy ninja's chest erupted in a trio of wet cracks which sprayed droplets of his blood across her chest and face.

She could taste the heavy metallic liquid in her mouth, but couldn't quite register what happened until the mud-clone holding her captive dissolved as soon as its caster lost connection with it, and her arm grasping the octagonal metal bar fell limply by her side.

With confusion and unwanted empathy she watched as the man slumped over against the structure that presumably he himself had made, and drew what were to be his final breaths.

"Allah Akbar, god is truly great… I am glad that I did not have harm the next generation…"

It took her a few pauses for her mind to register the language the words were spoken in. It was so unexpected, so foreign a setting that she had not realized her native tongue. But she still could not understand the meaning of what he had said. And by the time she acknowledged all this, the man was dead, eyes full of stagnant brown water.

The footsteps which crunched the rock behind her were cautious and deliberate so as not to surprise the distracted ninja. It was a prudent measure, because Tenten was still somewhat stirred when the gloved hand rested gently on her shoulder. She turned to meet the sober face of her NCO, who gently cradled her abandoned machine gun in his other hand.

She was slow in taking it from him, embarrassed as she was at her moment of distraction, realized now under his probing stare. But before she could lay hands on it, the weapon was jerked back from her reach, and she looked at him in confusion.

"Next time, it's coming out of your paycheck."

Her expression of mild shock shifted into irritation as she plucked her tool from his grasp and made to storm off, but stopped as she realized she was trapped between him and the cooling body of the other ninja.

"That's not the same one you were fighting."

Tenten nodded absently as Belletriste moved around her and crouched by the unresponsive corpse, eyes still half-lidded in a mockery of repose. Even without the presence of the mask on the body, this conclusion was obvious. The fighting style gave it away, and this man was too old to move as fluidly as her opponent. But it was still the body of an enemy, and his hands boldly roamed over the loose dress of the dead man, stopping over a hard bulge near the right rib-cage.

He invaded the privacy of the deceased and withdrew a leather-bound text which fit into his palm and looked about as worn and calloused as the hand that gripped it. His thumb rubbed over the once-gilded script on the cover, embossing all but worn to the same level. He hummed quietly and without further ado returned the book from whence it came. Then he gently closed the man's eyes and stood back up silently.

Tenten watched this investigation turned strange ritual in quiet deference. Her commander glanced at her over his shoulder, green eyes meeting hers without the normal acrylic barrier.

"But that means…."

Realizing the implications at the same time, and somehow both privy to the subtle ques of the universe, they both ducked down and covered one another simultaneously as the wall behind them exploded in a rain of stony shrapnel.

He was the first to risk raising his head, eyes clamped shut as the dust in the air caked his face. He reached up to duff his pakhul and let out a low growl that next to him, Tenten, also now coming to terms with nearly being buried alive, managed to pick up despite her ringing ears.

"Uzumaki…"

Naruto saw the incoming boulders line up like stepping stones in a river. He did not even need to think in order to do the technique, hadn't needed to for some time. But doing it in such quick succession would be new. Hopefully, there would be a time when it would be old hat for him.

He felt his body replace the first stone about to crush him, the chakra arm swapping the two jerking him through the air and jarring his organs. But he did not have time to come to terms with this feeling of having every fluid including air knocked out of him before he had to swap with the next one. And the next, and the next.

Forward he shot, a pinball bouncing to and froe. Each of the stones rolling down the hill like a funicular whipping him upwards until there were no more stones ahead of him, only the shocked face of the enemy shinobi, frozen still in the midst of his next move.

He planted his fist in that gawping mug which looked so foreign with the full graying beard that it almost felt an affront to his pride as a shinobi. His jaw snapped shut and he went flying back, rebounding against his own wall and tumbling a ways down the hill before righting himself.

Though Naruto was not about to give him any more time to recover, he had been too generous earlier much to his detriment. He arced downward at the man, who stopped himself in a solid three-point stance, one hand cocked in a seal which sent spikes of earth from around him at the half-flying Naruto.

He growled, starting to feel the frustration of the prolonged fight that was supposed to last all of an instant. He dodged the first two spikes, but as the third nicked him in the arm, he abandoned any pretense of subtlety.

"Rasengan!"

The next spike he confronted head on, meeting the needle-point with the eye of the storm in his palm. The otherwise immutable granite which had previously stood for hundreds of thousands of years was ground to dust under the legendary attack.

The veteran shinobi who had seen the move only once before, nevertheless knew what it signified. And in that same moment of revelation, he lost the will to fight any longer. He had the chance to delay the known juggernaut a moment so that whatever comrades he might have left could escape. But he was not willing to do so. He had too much respect for the boy.

So, he let the swirling attack connect, slamming into his chest and grinding him into the hard-packed ground. He felt himself being crushed by the inherent, drilling nature of the attack, as well as the entirety of the force behind it. He felt withered bones snap like tree branches, skin like bark ripped from his trunk, he felt the weight of the world crushing down on him. It was an immeasurable pain, but it would only last as long as he was alive.

Then, the force was gone, but the pain was not. He was alive? But how? Why?

As if answering those unasked question, his opponent spoke up.

"You're beat old man. Just give up."

He stared blurrily back through squinted eyes and just laughed, which devolved into a series of wet coughs. This was why he respected the boy, and ironically, was why the two of them would not last long in the expanded world.

"Don't be naïve, boy. What reason do I, an old man as you say, have to give up?"

"Because," Naruto looked down at the broken body, still gripping a kunai tightly. "it would be pointless to kill you."

"But also pointless to keep me alive." Not to mention dangerous. "I'm old. I'd done. And I sure as hell am not going to rat out my comrades." However many there were left.

He could feel the blond's growing scowl, and wondered if he should lament or envy the young man's soft streak.

"You said so yourself, I do believe. Once, a long time ago. Those who disobey the rules are trash, but those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash."

As they always did, those words struck a chord in Naruto, so that for a brief moment he could empathize with his enemy, no, this fellow shinobi who just happened to not agree with his methods. If he was not to be a hypocrite, he would not be able to deny that he too held doubts. Another moment of introspection, another second passed in the unhaltable course of his life.

Another second in which the battle could turn a corner.

The nearly broken man made to lay down on the cool earth and rolled so that he was facing away from the blond. It was then that Naruto noticed the tag stuck to the man's back, now smudged from the earth, but oh so familiar to him.

He tried to leap away and threw his forearm in front of his face, but by then the tag had already been activated and the incandescent energy stored within it was released. The white light consumed his vision and with his free hand he fired his rifle blindly.

The blindness only lasted a few seconds, the flash-bomb evidently a hastily made dud, akin to the firearms being churned out by cottage industries here in the mountains. But it was enough for the old man to disappear from his vision. He cursed and spun around, lingering on the earth wall which was still standing, but also searching out with his senses directed underneath his feet, intimately aware of the danger of earth-users.

But with his attention directed beneath his feet and up the slope, he missed what was right behind him.

His only warning was the telltale breeze associated with wind attacks, the compression of air being far too difficult to completely manage without a certain number of molecules bumping against one another, nudging the hairs on the back of his neck.

He spun around just in time to be taken off his feet and slammed into the same wall that had plagued him the entire time. A large chunk was taken out of the top like a shark-bite, but the wall did its job and stopped him from sailing further. His back lit up in pain and he crumpled down to the ground, doubled up with loose chips falling down on his naked head as his Chéché blew off into the distance.

But he surely wasn't going to worry about that now. His primary concern was the rifle that was given to him, tantalizingly close but seemingly just beyond his fingertips. Secondary was the new enemy that was approaching his downed form with no small measure of caution.

The old man hadn't wanted to be taken alive, and neither did he. And unlike his previous opponent, he was useful as a hostage. That value, at least, he had retained after everything else had abandoned him.

Ignoring the pain which the bundle of nerve endings in his spine were sending him, he lunged for his weapon, only to have a sandaled foot pin it to the ground. He ground his teeth, letting his frustration bleed way to anger, not for the first time happy that he did not have to hold it back. He would need it to overcome his body's uncooperative state and block the raised kusarigama that loomed above his head.

He grabbed the first thing he could find amongst his armament, the bayonet he had been unceremoniously issued way back when. Even with the foot pinning down his primary weapon, he moved a knee underneath himself and threw himself upwards, simultaneously dislodging the foot and stabbing upwards with his blade to intercept the death blow from the cycle.

Even unbalanced at the sudden show of strength, the masked enemy had already started their strike and the blade went with gravity, aiming to gut the blond man. But the small slip drew the strike back just enough for Naruto to get his bayonet inserted right into the crook of the blade.

For only a fraction of a second the scythe was stopped, before the skilled combatant drew it back in one fluid motion and snapped the flimsy mass-produced blade into two. Still, Naruto lunged with the other half of the knife in his grip, stabbing at his opponent who was preparing for another swing at him. He could feel his emotions bubbling up, driving his arm forward and darkening his thoughts.

Incredulously, his adversary paused mid-swing. And even though he could not see it, he imagined there was a look of shock or even recognition on their masked face. Whatever it was, it stayed with them even after he plunged the jagged edge of his shiv into their shoulder. They stumbled back a step, finally allowing Naruto to whip his weapon up to his shoulder.

He leveled the short barrel at the enemy shinobi with his left hand. It didn't much matter this time if he aimed or not, at point blank he was sure not to miss. For the first half of the second that the two realized it was over, Naruto briefly felt his finger hesitate over the trigger as he watched the muscles relax over his target in resignation of their fate. But he was not to make the same mistake twice in so short an interval, and every muscle in his body seized as he squeezed the bang button.

The empty click echoed in the sudden silence and the latter half of that second went on for an eternity.

"FUCK!"

Anger beat incredulity and Naruto jabbed the person in the face with the jagged flash-hider. They stumbled back another step, but also just as quickly realized their sudden windfall. In one fluid spin, they batted away a second strike from the jerry-rigged club and loosed a handful of shuriken at Naruto who did not even try to dodge them. He simply crossed his arms in front of his face and chest, taking the pointy ends in his forearms.

Flicking his wrists and dislodging the thrown weapons, he quickly swapped the carbine to his dominant hand while his other patted himself down for a fresh magazine. Meanwhile, the only surviving ninja of the insurgent group was making good of this distraction and putting as much distance as they could between themselves and what was surely the angry blond's reinforcements.

"Come on you son of a-"

As Naruto mentally and verbally damned both himself and the designer of their combat gear, he was interrupted by a series of semi-auto fire, selectively taking aim at the fleeing shinobi who only briefly paused at a shot which grazed a tree trunk right next to their head before they sped off again.

"Commander!"

The man lowered his rifle, seeing the futility of wasting ammo at their target.

"Merde! Is that last shinobi?"

Finally managing to find a magazine with rounds in it, Naruto jammed it into his gun and looked back up to his NCO who was crouched on the lip of the destroyed wall.

"Yeah, that's the last one!"

They both reflexively ducked as a handful of stray shots sailed over their heads. They both turned to see a couple of local fighters who had apparently survived Tenten's onslaught take cover behind the thick trees between them.

"The last shinobi, anyway."

Naruto mumbled to himself as he began returning fire, along with his superior officer. In the brief moment in between trigger pulls, however, he overheard his new commands being shouted at him.

"Uzumaki!" BANG BANG BANG! "What the hell are you waiting for?!" BANG BANG! "Go after them! We need them alive!"

His first instinct was to look at the man like he was crazy to suggest that Naruto of all people would do something to effectively abandon his comrades in the midst of what was turning out to be an intense firefight with the most fanatical, lucky and/or skilled rebel fighters who did not seem like they were going to run out of ammunition any time soon. But before he could verbally object, Tenten leapt past their leader who was providing cover and landed in a crouch next to Naruto.

"You heard the man," She growled out, clearly not liking the situation any more than he. "get your ass in gear!"

Then she grabbed him by his collar and shoved him down in the direction the enemy shinobi had fled as she too began laying down a thick stream of bullets downrange.

Though he was admittedly upset that it had taken his fellow Konoha ninja to spur him to action, Belletriste was still glad when he saw the blond disappear into the thinning tree line in pursuit of their last viable lead. Seeing Tenten had effectively pinned down the last vestiges of resistance, he ducked down behind the broken wall and focused on his radio.

"Moses, can you hear me?"

"Loud, and… very loud. What the heck is going on down there?"

Next to him, Karui was growling as she looked down her scope, unable to see much past the initial clearing as most of the action unfolded behind the wall and outside of her field of view. She too was wondering what the situation was, waiting patiently after her first and only contribution to the ambush but growing increasingly worried for her normal partner as the sounds of battle raged on without visual evidence.

But he did not have time to catch them up on it now, he needed them in their professional capacity.

"Get your eyes where they are useful. Can you see the ridgeline from where you are at?"

"Mostly." Conrad scrunched his face as he looked through the spotting scope, swiveling the wide lens across the jagged peaks which surrounded the little valley. "Why do you- oh." He saw the human form leap up and over the edge right in front of him arcing like a cannonball but still clearly not one of theirs.

"Alright, target spotted fleeing a few minutes west of south. Looks like Naruto is already in pursuit."

Sure enough, he saw the familiar drab figure scurry up the loose rock in a flash, but worryingly not as fast as his prey who had seemingly rode the wind currents to leap over the rocky outcropping.

"Yes, he is. But I want to make sure he catches them. So you two are done over there. If you can, go after him and try to keep a visual on the target and advise Uzumaki if necessary. We'll finish up here and try to catch up to you."

He ended the transmission there, trusting at least that the non-shinobi half would follow his orders unquestioningly, and turned back to his squad mate who was still in the midst of picking off the dregs of the resistance who clung on doggedly to their cover.

"Alright, Tamura, let's finish this quick and catch up to the rest."

"What the hell does it look like I'm trying to do?" She barked back and let loose another long burst after a Kalashnikov round whizzed by her head too close for comfort.

The man didn't even seem to notice her ire and instead glanced calmly at the three remaining fighters sticking their heads cautiously around trees and rocks and letting lose a few rounds in their direction.

"You can use any means you deem necessary."

Tenten stopped firing at this and looked over her shoulder at the man like he had grown another head, but he simply met this look with an air of nonchalance.

"Just don't leave any witnesses."

A feral grin came over the woman as he once again made her day.

Day was fast retreating as Naruto sped after the fleeing rebel shinobi, unsure how he was so hard-pressed to keep up. The answer became obvious as soon as they reached the beginning of the slope which encircled the shallow valley they were in, and the person leapt over it in a single bound. This was obviously a person who had all but mastered their wind nature and could bend it to their will with or without a medium.

Naruto felt himself sigh as he took stock of the odds that were mounting against them. What were the chances that they would come up against such a proficient shinobi way out here? It wasn't exactly fair, either, considering he had wasted nearly a year learning things that would make him a more efficient soldier, but had been unable to hone his own wind nature for lack of a competent teacher.

It also made him wonder, once again, if he had picked the right side.

But not one to second guess himself mid-commitment, he nonetheless forced raw chakra into his limbs and leapt after his target, trying not to let the loose scree on the surface slow him down or trip him up. Following the masked shinobi into the next valley over, he found himself perched on top of boulder which overlooked the rest of the recent landslide, numerous such rocks providing ample hiding spots for the shinobi to take shelter and disappear from his field of view.

He cursed and quickly scanned the moon-like terrain, looking especially at the long shadows being cast by the setting sun. He was about to reach out with his sage mode and try to sense their natural chakra when he threw himself to the ground just in time to dodge a shot that still managed to graze his temple. He lifted his head just in time to see his masked foe shoulder a Com-block style sniper to their good shoulder, and then see the bright spark of the muzzle flash before he threw himself down into a crag.

Another round chipped the rock just above his head, but effectively kept him pinned down where he was, unable to move any closer or expose himself in any way. He knew he needed a distraction, something to draw the sniper's attention, and once again his mind drifted to his shadow clone, the thing he had relied upon so often in his youth, and which thanks to a clerical error was now deemed a war crime if used.

But, what if…

There wasn't anyone else here to see in any case. So what if he used a clone? It would only be for a second and the smoke once it was destroyed would be enough to obscure his assault, maybe even so that he could bridge the moderate gap between the two of them.

If he should lose his target though, they would have to know which technique he used. Hell, he realized as he rubbed his chin in thought, he no longer had anything covering his face, and his whisker marks were a calling card over all the shinobi nations. They had to know who he was. That was probably even why they faltered before the killing blow.

So he would have to kill them if he used any of his 'forbidden' techniques. But his commander wanted them alive. He understood it was just for the intel, but frankly he was also happy to oblige. It would be a shame if he had to kill such an accomplished shinobi. Probably someone that he had fought alongside, even. They were already promising to be an endangered species without his eliminating the competition.

And so, what could he do?

He slapped himself as he realized the old man had already given him the answer. He pulled out a kunai and one of his own flash-bang notes, assuredly potent this time, and wrapped it around the handle before tossing it in the air.

He covered his ears and clamped his eyes shut, and as soon as the blast died down, he leapt up on top of the boulder he had taken cover behind and scanned the debris for his target.

Another explosion sounded out behind him and he whipped around, rifle at the ready, before he realized it was farther away and he could see the smoke trail up over the ridge, clearly not his problem. He spun back around but only in time to see the fluttering clothes of his target as they put even more distance between them.

"Kuso!"

He cursed as he jumped after them, hopping from stone to stone, unconcerned about being shot at now that the adversary's back was turned and the rifle gripped by their side. He followed them up and over the next small ridge into the adjacent valley where again the same rockslide had dominated the landscape. But by the time he made it to the vantage point, the other shinobi had disappeared from his view.

He was about to swear at this loss again, but a crinkly voice piped up in his ear.

"Hey! Naruto! They're further down and about to exit the boulder field!"

Recognizing Conrad's voice, he didn't think about how he could know this, and instead followed his direction and looked far down the hillside, just in time to see the figure in the dusty-lavender traditional garb skitter out onto the roadway and dash over the other side.

Vowing to himself that he would make a serious effort to learn his father's signature technique sometime in the near future- never mind how, that would come later- he closed his eyes as he gathered his concentration. He felt the late afternoon breeze begin to pick up, and tried to direct it to wrap around his feet and legs. He could feel the bitter cold air swirling around his calves, gathering speed and heat as he fed it his chakra.

When he felt it was enough, he forcibly halted the swirling winds, directing them downwards in one go.

It had the desired effect… sort of. He was flying, high above the rock-strewn fields and in the vague direction of the road, but he was also tumbling. As sky and landscape oscillated nauseatingly in his vision, he tried to get enough blood flow to his head so that he could think of a way to rectify his hasty decision.

Though even as his mind was fully immersed in the mindset of a shinobi, those countless hours of 'useless' training came back to him in a flash of inspiration, and he realized that he had felt this feeling of sickening weightlessness once before. He had, after all, jumped out of perfectly good planes several times, no matter how often he tried to forget the experience. And there was that one time his parachute wouldn't open. Now, it was coming back to be of service.

He flung his arms to the side as he felt his rotations begin to slow, but now he needed to direct his feet underneath him. Spreading his chakra in between his arms and legs, he fashioned himself a squirrel suit out of the very air through which he flew. But this radical idea did the trick, and he realized he could control his direction much more easily now.

He glided over the road and then on to the flatter terrain, catching a glimpse of colored cloth amongst the spring foliage below him which was denser this far down the mountain. Smirking to himself, he palmed a shuriken already adhered with an especially potent explosive note. He chucked it ahead of where he saw the movement, and then let the chakra wings dissipate as he dropped like a stone.

He landed in a soft crouch amongst the gnarly trees just as the resulting explosion ripped some of the fledgling leaves off the branches. He unslung the carbine from his back and carefully advanced into the maze-like woodland.

Before he even took half a dozen steps however, he had to throw himself down to the ground as countless rounds of automatic fire passed over his head like a hurricane. He lay there patiently as twigs and branches alike rained down on him, and he could feel his heart pounding in his throat. He counted the seconds mentally like he counted the number of rounds remaining on his person as well as the number of kunai and shuriken he had left. He may have leapt into an ambush, but he sure as hell wasn't going down without a fight.

The firing petered out and he heard hushed voices whispering to one another before the approaching sound of crunching footsteps. He bided his time in silence, waiting for the opportune moment.

The adrenaline from the chase was still pumping through him, and the excitement of a massive fight overrode his trained prudence. He saw a shadow move through the broken branches. He aimed. He fired.

He heard a cry and saw the form go down, spotted another to his right and did the same. Cries of distress all around in the blind forest. He bolted forward, crashing through the dense bramble and up to the first person he downed.

He broke through the branches, uncaring if he was heard, now. He knelt next to the corpse, eyes still trained ahead before he risked a glance downwards to see if he had managed to take out the shinobi he was after.

…..and nearly threw up at what he saw.

He dropped his weapon and unconsciously reached for his medical kit as he looked down at the man bleeding out beneath him. His hands fumbled over the cumbersome body armor, slick with blood from where his shots passed through the thin sections, all the while the young man's eyes stared up at him pleadingly. His mouth worked silently as a river of blood dribbled down past his chin.

Trying to remember how to undo the complicated series of buckles and Velcro, and disoriented from this perspective, Naruto hurriedly tried to remove the now useless garment so he could dress the wound, already knowing that it was probably too late to save the boy.

Why hadn't he noticed that he could understand the voices being shouted? Why hadn't he noticed the familiar sound of the machine guns? Why hadn't he waited so that he could see what he was shooting at? Where was his training in all this? He was supposed to be a soldier and shinobi, both cold and calculated, but not mass-murdering psychopaths. Was he really as bloodthirsty as the rest of them?

He stopped trying to remove the vest and instead just pressed the bandage down on the wound. His other hand found the buckle for the chinstrap and un-clipped it, letting the helmet fall off the young man's head and onto the ground. He cradled the back of his shaven skull and pressed their foreheads together.

"Shhh, shhh. Dijoubu, dijoubu. It's going to be alright."

He lied, eyes clamped shut as tears started welling up and dripping down onto the dying man underneath him.

All around them were still the frantic yells, getting ever closer. But Naruto couldn't bring himself to care. If they wanted to shoot him down, it would be what he deserved. He didn't hear the man's squad come up upon them. Didn't notice when they recognized his faded and dirty uniform. He didn't want to move as the medics ran up and tried to drag him away so that they could try and do what was already too late.

He just stared at his bloody palms as he sat on the ground, listening to the ringing words of "Cease fire!" echoing throughout the lowlands.

They had never seen Belletriste so angry before. They had never seen him angry, period. And, they were fairly certain they never wanted to see it again.

The commanding officer of the infantry division that had come into contact with their comrade must have been a good head taller than their own NCO. But regardless of rank or physical appearance, the man had cowered under the diatribe Belletriste had unleashed when they finally caught up.

He was furious at the lack of communication, at the unprofessional conduct of the infantry who had fired first, and at the fact that the division itself was so far away from where they were supposed to be. He had even slapped the commanding officer in front of all his troops, and no one lifted a finger to do anything about it. He pointedly ignored his own subordinate who was uncharacteristically silent during the whole episode.

It was, however, a classic military fuckup, and thus unsurprising to many. The infantry commander thought he was making a good field decision in capturing a nearby village that was not part of his objective. In any other case, he would have been right. But because their unit was running silent until now, they had no way to know where their allies were supposed to be, other than what information they had previously been given.

But no amount of rationalization would help Naruto overcome his guilt. It may have been an accident, mostly justified on his part, but it was still a life taken in vain. Not to mention that they had lost their pursuit. No body was found in the crater caused by Naruto's explosive tag, and no other trace was found amongst the chaos that ensued after the confused encounter.

All in all, it was about as abject a failure as one could imagine. And they all knew it. Or at least, they thought they did.

Naruto didn't even look up when the person sat down on the embankment next to him. He just continued staring at his hands, though long since cleaned of the blood and grime, somehow stained with a permanent blemish in his eyes.

"You'd probably expect that I'd have you court-martialed. Or that I'd tell you to get over yourself."

Belletriste said as he removed his hat and stared at it in his hands, running his thumb over the threadbare wool pensively.

"But I'm not."

Naruto still remained silent, not acknowledging if he was listening, but both knew that he was with rapt attention.

"You fucked up. Big time. There's no sugar coating that. But guess what? So did your teammates."

He glanced up to where the other three were milling about, trying not to draw attention to themselves among the rest of the encampment. They all flinched under his gaze, recalling their own redressing and wondering what sort of admonishment their blond friend was getting now. Each silently blamed themselves for not being quick enough or strong enough to have helped their teammate.

"And, so did I." He admitted, though it was hard to find any remorse in it. "Not recently, mind you. But still, we all have room for improvement."

"Is that what you see this as?" Naruto growled out, speaking at last. His voice gravelly and horse. "A chance for improvement? With all due respect: fuck you sir. I just killed a kid. How am I supposed to see this as anything other than fucked up?"

To Naruto's mounting anger, the man just shrugged. But faltered when he spoke.

"You're not." He admitted. "As I said: you fucked up. And now, you have to live with that. You deal with it however you can. You're going to get over it though."

Naruto wanted to resent the certainty with which he said those words, but found that he couldn't. Even in the depths of his self-pity, he found a kernel of truth that he could not throw away. After all this, he still selfishly wanted to live.

He gestured again to the rest of the squad, still looking equally sorrowful mired in empathy with their friend and comrade.

"Your friends will help you with this. We are a unit, a team. That is our purpose, so you never have to do these things yourself. I know that you are used to being the hero, the martyr, the chosen one, whatever. But that isn't the way the world works. You don't create peace in a single stroke. And you don't cure the world tout-seul. We are human, not gods. Even you."

They sat in relative silence, letting the sounds of construction and the small river pass them by.

"And you?" Naruto asked at last, ending what might have been a standoff.

It was a vague question, but Belletriste did not look confused by it.

"I am your commander." He looked at Naruto, finally. "And all that entails."

He did not particularly like the answer, as he did not particularly like the man. But at the same time, he was satisfied with both, and he accepted it.

Without a word, the non-shinobi reached into the back pocket of his smock and withdrew a plain-black notebook bound with a cord and clearly older than either of them were. He reached over a placed it into Naruto's lap who looked back up with an arched eyebrow.

"The notebook of Jiraya of the Sanin."

Naruto's other eyebrow shot up and his mouth dropped open.

"Not that one. His one on the sealing arts."

Still with a look of wonderment, he gazed at the bound leather parchment in his lap. He wanted to ask how he had come into possession of an object that was by all rights his, but didn't. He considered that it was perhaps even a good thing. Until then he had only really dabbled in seals, preferring his other ninja arts. But recently seeing them in so many unlikely places as of late, he admitted to lamenting the previously lost opportunity.

Plus, had he been in possession of it earlier, it surely would have been lost in the chaos during and after the Fourth Shinobi War, like so many other precious things were.

Next to him, Belletriste stood up silently and donned his headgear once more.

"Not going to lie to you. A lot of people are going to be looking at this mission as a failure. They are going to want to disband the unit, maybe ban shinobi all together. Court martial you. I couldn't much blame them, but I hope not. Whatever the case, I will do my best to protect you and your friends. That is my duty."

He never did specified to whom this duty was to. Naruto had a hard time imagining it was to anyone other than himself. To the Legion as a whole? To the continuance of the Shinobi line, or to his own twisted sense of what was right and wrong? Naruto could not say, but still found himself in accordance with the odd man.

He started to walk back over to the rest of the group while Naruto undid the string and delicately cracked open the worn notebook as if it would crumble in his hands. Over his shoulder he called out one last thing.

"It is not enough simply to survive, mon ami. We must thrive!"

It was a hard task, but not insurmountable.