Author Note: You guys wound me a bit. Reviews have seriously tapered off, and I love to hear your opinions on the story, and so on. Also, the larger the reviews, the higher the chance people will notice the story and read it, thus making it more popular, in a way. So, keep'em coming!
I'd particularly like opinions on the two OC I'm introducing now, and don't worry I won't do this too often. Interesting in seeing if anyone can guess what their powers are, given the few hints I've dropped. :P
As to all those who have favorite or have Pack Light set on Story Alert, I thank you. You also a big inspiration, and it's nice to know that I will have 40-50 people, at least, checking the story out each time I post a chapter. I write this for you guys. Thanks.
Special notice to BrokenAvenger21, who was the first to set this to story alert, and OXEYESETTOKILLXO, who was the first to add this to their favorite stories. Many thanks to you guys!
A few miles outside of Konohagakure, at a high-security prisoner facility…
The two newest members of Akatsuki stood in the center of an open and mostly barren courtyard, maybe a hundred feet or so across, with various halls and stairways leading off to the various high-security cells of the facility. It was just inside the entrance to the circular prison facility hidden away in the thick forests that surrounded the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Utilitarian through and through, it was simple and bare concrete all the way around, without a single decoration or so much as a window or potted plant. It was a place that was easy to hate.
Getting in had been easy. The double doors hadn't been much trouble, despite it being a half a foot of rebar-reinforced concrete thick and perhaps nine feet tall each. Katsura had used his unliving strength to simple bust through it. It didn't even strain him. Then again, very little did. Now, inside the facility, with enemies approaching, they might actually need to put some effort into things.
They weren't worried. A dozen of these weaklings would be easy. Or, at least, it would be if Yori could remember that damn name.
"Shack-cue… shik-cue… bah…." The tall man said, tongue fumbling over the alien word.
"You know, Yori." His partner said, eyes locked forward on the various animal-masked guards who were advancing on them, "Perhaps next time you make a deal with a powerful and otherworldly being that requires you to pronounce it's name to invoke power, you should choose one with a name you are able to pronounce."
"Oh, oh, you just shut up, just shut up, Kat-san!" quipped the other man with a scowl. "It'll come to me, just wait! Just wait!"
"We haven't got time to wait, Yori." Katsura said flatly. If he still was breathing, he might have sighed. The hopping man closed his eyes, feet resting flat onto the ground as he ceased his bouncing. A soft popping sound echoed in the enclosed courtyard. "I'll take care of it."
"Wait-!" Yori shouted in objection, only to be cut off his pale, stiff partner suddenly shot off like a bolt of lightning, arms flailing behind him as he launched himself at the first of the ANBU guards. A soft clattering replaced the popping as Katsura's hat flew off his head and bounced to the floor. The lion-masked ANBU doubled and collapsed as Katsura slammed his head into the man's chest, crushing his ribcage with inhuman strength. The guard was dead before his killer's hat had even hit the floor.
It spun a few times on it's rim before settling down, but by the time it had Katsura was in motion again. He pushed off the ground with both feet, backflipping and landing against the wall. Once again he shot forward as he pushed off with both feet, a single chakra-enhanced arm stretched out in front of him. Another ANBU died without being able to even bring hands up to block, Katsura's fist going clean through the rooster-masked man. The rest of the guards were only just beginning to react, drawing weapons or hands moving as they quickly worked through hand seals. It would not be fast enough.
The pale man flexed backwards, knees bending at an unnatural level. A hail of kunai and shuriken passed over him, causing sparks to fly as they impacted the wall behind him and ricocheted off in various directions. He planted his hands behind him and let his legs snap back, causing them to wiggle in an almost rubber-like way as he brought them up. Two guards reached him and swung with their straight-edged ninjatō. One swung high, the other low. Katsura pushed off with both hands and twisted abnormally, letting one blade pass above and the other below him with almost contemptuous ease. They were used to fighting humans, and he was so much more then human now.
Be bent back, dislocated spine letting him plant a hand down and provide a base for his next attack. He rotated himself at high speed, bringing both legs around in a sweeping blow. His shins slammed into one of his two attacker's spine. Loud cracking as the spine shattered made Katsura grin. He did so enjoy this. He channeled chakra into his legs, sticking onto the instantly killed ANBU with it and bending back, waist actually wrapping back around enough for him to grab onto the man with both hands. Katsura's legs once again snapped back like rubber, giving him momentum to spin and send the pine-shattered corpse at the other guard. Cracking once again echoed as the body impacted with meteoric force and Katsura found himself sticking horizontally to one of the courtyards walls.
The entire action had taken a scant few seconds at most. In many ways, Katsura was just as alien as his partner. No long human by any stretch, the Akatsuki had an unholy level of flexibility alongside his unholy strength, both enhanced by chakra. Even behind their masks he could tell the ANBU were terrified of him, and even though not a single one made any sound he could already tell what they were thinking; the words on the cusp of their lips.
"You are wondering what I am." He said suddenly, twisting his body around and hand springing onto the floor. "Yes, you are wondering what sort of unholy monster I am."
He grinned, "Well, you see, I am a mockery of life, a corpse-creature who was so prideful that I wouldn't even let my soul go when I died. But, really, all you need to understand is that your chakra sings to me, so enticing and alluring, like the finest sake or a mouth-watering meal. Soon, I will suck it from your shattered body to sustain me, and I will enjoy it so very much. So what does that make me?"
Silence reigned for a short few moments before Katsura laughed and answered his own question, "I'm the thing that is going to kill you!"
And so he did.
Yori hadn't moved the entire time, an annoyed look on his face all the while. He was so very put off, to say the least. Katsura was a fine companion, and one he would not exchange for anything. I mean, he could actually tolerate Yori's presence! That made him special in Yori's book, but that didn't mean that the ex-hoshi shinobi was always so pleased by his pale partner's actions. He was very selfish some times, and had no patience for Yori's antics. Sure, he forgot the name of his patron some times, and other such scatterbrained things, but that didn't mean Katsura had to hog all the fun.
He sighed as he watched a sickly green stream of chakra flow from one of the ANBU guard's eyes and mouth and into Katsura's waiting maw. He had pinned the last of the ANBU down, and was eagerly devouring his very essences. It was something Yori had grown used to. Much like Yori himself, Katsura was not exactly human anymore. Heck, in many ways, Katsura was even less human then Yori. The robed missing-nin then watched as Katsura stood back up, popping once again echoing through the now blood-splattered and corpse-strewn courtyard. Half of the corpses were shattered masses of crushed bone and organs, barely recognizable as human anymore. The other half looked as though they'd been sucked dry, wrinkled husks of men.
Disgusting. And, given his own less than savory self, that meant something. Yori had no illusions about the guest he harbored and what that made him. However, while Yori was disgusting on the inside, Katsura was disgusting on the outside. Well, on the inside too but particularly on the outside. Yori still blanched at thoughts of what his partner looked like under those robes. He'd seen it only once and that was enough, easily understanding why the pale 'man' liked to keep a personal genjutsu up nearly constantly. How he managed to hide the smell still amazed the ex-Star Village ninja.
Hopping again, Katsura made his way back next to his stationary partner. His expression once again blank for the most part, his momentary high having lapsed back into his casual contentment. The massacre had taken only a few minutes, which was about as long as Katsura managed to keep himself excited about anything. Yori huffed, "I would have remembered it eventually, I would have remembered!"
"You took too long." Was all Katsura said in his defense, hopping towards one of the hallways. Stairs were too annoying for him to go down, he'd leave those to Yori. "Deidara is down the second set of stairs. Go get him."
"Ah, Kat-san." Yori said with some surprise as he watched the retreating form of his partner. The pet name caused Katsura to frown. He did so hate that stupid habit of Yori.
"Yes, Yori, what is it?" he asked in an exasperated tone, not stopping his bouncing shuffle towards the hall.
"You have a kunai in your shoulder."
Katsura stopped, neck popping a bit. He rotated his head all the way around, looking down onto his back. And, sure enough, a single kunai was stuck deep into to the back of his left shoulder.
"Hmm…" he murmured, "One got a lucky shot, I guess."
He turned his head back around and continued down the hall, leaving a less then amused Yori in stunned silence. Ok, so Katsura was definitely less human then him.
Depending on the culture one belonged to, a person's view of the afterlife could be greatly different then another persons. Even inside the same culture there could be vast differences in opinion or view depending on the persons in question. In some ways it was a reflection of the persons personality and views on life in general, as well as their belief in morals and if those stemmed from either man, nature, or some higher or unknown power or directive.
As an extension, someone's view of hell was yet another reflection on their personality, and expectations. Personally, Sasori wasn't sure he believed in hell or the afterlife. He hadn't really expected to ever find out. But, in the last few days he had been given quite a lot of time to think about rather pointless things. For example, he began to think about where he'd end up if he died, which seemed unlikely. He was effectively immortal, and there was no reason for the Village Hidden in the Leaves to kill him, given they'd very successfully sealed off his chakra and removed all his appendages.
And so, here hung Sasori, legendary puppet master of Sunagakure, destroyer of nations and artisan without equal, he who designed true art that lasted for eternity. He supposed it was perhaps both fitting and ironic that he found himself more or less nailed to the wall, a broken torso and head, covered in chakra suppressing seals. He would last forever. Perhaps he'd be an example of how even the mighty could be brought low. But, it was hard to call him art, even in this situation, as there was no one to appreciate it. He did not eat, he did not defecate, and he did not require any other maintenance except perhaps changing out one of the hundreds of seals that peppered the room once every few decades or so.
Then again, maybe he'd die soon too. Akatsuki was not an organization which tolerated failure, particularly not of the magnitude that Sasori had achieved. He had been defeated by one of the very subjects they were intended to capture, a mere child, and hadn't even died like a good failure. No, he'd been shattered and captured. He, being one who hated waiting and making people wait, hadn't bother indulging any sadistic interrogator and had simply told them whatever they asked. It was inevitable. If Akatsuki didn't abandon them and chose to send someone after them to finish the puppet master and his explosive partner off it would be too late regardless. He saved himself the trouble and gave in early. No need to complicate things.
He doubted Deidara would do the same because, after all, Sasori's kōhai was an idiot. An armless idiot, at that. But, then again, Sasori had no limbs at all, so what did that make him?
Drifting back to his earlier thoughts, Sasori began to wonder about hell. He supposed that hell would be a personal reflection of one's inner soul; hell would be the thing he hated the most, for all eternity. That would be eternal torment, and Sasori could admit he deserved it. Not that he regretted any of it, of course, but he did deserve torment. Perhaps the human part of him had feared that subconsciously, and that could have very well factored into his choice to become something more. Something better. But back to the point, hell would be the thing he hated most.
Which, of course, meant that he did not really fear dying because he was already in his own personal hell, forced to wait for either his own death or nothing at all. Forever. Had he still the will, or physical ability, he'd have scowled.
And then there was a bright flash of light, the three-inch long and one-inch wide seals that covered his room glowing bright for a brief second before they simply collapsed, fluttering to the ground like oversized confetti. The sheets were whipped into a frenzy as the door to the cell flew in, slamming into the wall with a tremendous crack. That actually impressed Sasori a small bit; the door was a single piece of cast chakra-attuned metal that had been sealed even more so then the room itself. He knew only a few people who could get around those seals, and even few who could have sent the door flying like that. Those who knew both were even more rare. That narrowed the pool of his possible executioners down considerably. Given the repeated scuffing of feet against concrete that he heard, a steady thump thump thump of hopping, he could guess who had been sent.
"Katsura-san, it is good to see you." Sasori said in his flat monotone.
"It would be nice if it was on better circumstances, Sasori-san." Replied the pale man. His steady hopping never ceased, even as he entered the room. His eyes never left Sasori's shattered form, and a small smirk formed at the corner of his mouth, "You have seen better days."
"Could not anyone else say the same, Katsura? We never realize how good our days are until they are gone."
"Both of our days have long been gone, Sasori-san." Katsura repliedsoftly, tone actually taking on a momentary wistfulness as it did, "Pride brought us to where we were now. Both of us."
Sasori changed subjects quickly, "If you're here to kill me, do it at least quickly. You know I hate being made to wait."
"Of course, Sasori-san." Katsura said with a soft chuckle, showing far more emotion then he did with nearly anyone else. It was a testament to his respect for the puppet master, both as a shinobi, and artist, and as a being who had, abet under far different circumstances then Katsura, escaped the mortal coil based on his own pride. "No need to worry, I'm not going to make you wait any longer."
The hopping man reached into his robe, taking out a small scroll, snapping it open with a quick jerk of his arm. His other arm popped slightly as he ran a hand over one of the many seals on the page, releasing it's stored contents. As the smoke of the summoning cleared, a second hopping figure stood in the room. This one was dressed in traditional funeral garb with peculiar symbols adorning it's blue cloth. A circular, red-colored hat sat on it's head, single paper seal dangling down in front of the man's vacant face. Sasori would have smiled it he could have.
"You have found a way to make more, then?" he intoned, "Impressive. You are a puppet master of your own sort now, it would seem, Katsura-san."
Katsura simply smiled as the man-thing hopped forward, body fresh and arms still free of the rigamortis that would take hold. He had taken to sealing them away just after death and animation, freeing them of some of the stiffness that was very hard for the corpse creatures to overcome. Directed only by his will, the corpse was a nameless and mindless servitor, and nothing more.
However, instead of smashing the tube that contained all that was truly left of Sasori, the corpse instead reached out and yanked Sasori's shattered puppet torso off of the wall, causing a great deal of confusion in the artisan's mind. To his credit, Katsura managed to notice.
"They thought it a waste to simply throw someone of your skill away, Sasori-san. You may not be a direct member of Akatsuki now, but that could change again." Katsura said, "Go regroup. He will call you when he needs you."
He paused a moment before continuing, "You should know, my word is worth little due to my junior status in the organization, but I argued what I could for your… life." He said with a chuckle, "You simply remind me too much of myself, Sasori-san."
The two hopping figures turned and headed out of the cell to find his partner, and hopefully Sasori's as well. Katsura was done spending time here. He was flush with young essence that he'd drained away, and eager to experience some of the joys of flesh before that passed. He knew the perfect little town nearby with a fantastic tavern and an even better brothel. Yes, he would enjoy it while he could, before the warmth in his bones left him once more.
A great many miles away, in the Land of Grass…
Crouched behind a shrubbery, Naruto's azure eyes were locked on an unassuming bridge just inside of Grass Country. His heart was racing, and had been for some time now. The thumping in his chest was growing ever faster as the appointed time got closer, and had he a clearer mind he might have worried about the thumping giving away his presence in this ambush. The plan called for Sai, Hinata-chan, and himself to wait until called by captain Yamato. He was never a truly patient person, and this waiting was driving him crazy. But he would do it, for Sasuke and Sakura. He owed it to them, for all the time it had taken for him to return to their trail.
His mind drifted slightly to the pale boy crouched next to him. Superficially, the boy even somewhat resembled Naruto's old teammate, greatest rival, and brother in all but blood. Had he the quiet, analytical mind of Shikamaru Nara, he might have found that to be a calculated choice. As it was, he gave it little thought except to contrast the two shinobi; it was easy to compare them, but their differences tended to outweigh their similarities. Sasuke was a cold person, but could warm up and show what he really had inside. But Sai was less inclined; the pale boy smiled and acted almost infuriatingly friendly, but so often seemed like a cold and emotionless statue, a pale imitation of real human. Naruto didn't like it.
He didn't like it because deep down, there was a time when he was very much the same. Deep down, only barely conscious to him, the thought that he could have ended up like Sai terrified him, and despite himself made him empathize with the kid. Socially awkward though he was, with a bad habit of insulting everyone and not understanding why that pissed people off, he still wasn't so bad of a guy. As the blond genin waited, his mind drifted slightly back to Sai's earlier words.
They had been walking at a brisk pace, right after they'd left the resort and spa. Naruto had noticed that Hinata was looking over a book of some sort, Sai walking next to her with that somewhat creepy smile on his face. Confusingly, he had bristled slightly seeing him walk so close to Hinata. It was not something he was used to, a feeling he was unable to pinpoint as jealousy due to utter lack of experience with the emotion. At least, inexperienced in that context. Regardless, he had gone over to see what the book was, and discovered it was a hand drawn picture book that Sai had made, a gift for his brother that he'd only recently completed, and hadn't a chance to give him yet.
And then, Sai had told Naruto something he hadn't expected to hear.
'I know what it is like to lose someone precious to you.' He said, smile authentic for a change, 'And what you would do to get them back. Anything, regardless of what anyone told you. Ignoring what they might do to stop you. I know you would stop at nothing. I want to protect that bond.'
Naruto had been speechless for a moment, smiling back at Sai for the first time. Until, of course, the pale stepford-smiler finished his little statement with, 'Even if you are a needle-dicked namby-pamby.'
But, hey, it was progress. He was still an asshole, but so was Sasuke.
The teenager stole a glance at the girl crouched next to him. Her byakugan was active, and she had whispered that someone was coming not long ago. Of course, given her range, that could mean anything. His mind drifted from Sai to his other companion, someone who was very much unlike the teammate she had 'replaced.' Naruto did not like thinking of Hinata as a 'replacement.' He told himself it was because it wasn't at all fair to her. Hinata was a fantastic kunoichi, and a fantastic person, and to think of her as a replacement for anything was completely and utterly unfair. It made him angry to even think of her like that. But, deep down there was something more to it. That anger he felt covered up guilt.
It wasn't something he could acknowledge yet, that nagging guilt. The guilt that Hinata had not only replaced Sakura as his teammate, but the growing realization that he enjoyed her presence as much as he had Sakura's. Guilty that he found Hinata pretty, or even beautiful. Guilty that he found himself wanting to ask her out. Was it guilt that he only did so now that Sakura was gone? Or was it guilt over the fact he was thinking of her less and less. It reared its ugly head every so often, but Naruto was more then used to hiding pain behind a smile.
Of course, Hinata was very adept at seeing through it, nowadays.
Although she was staring off into the distance, tracking the robed figure that was making his way towards the bridge to meet with captain Yamato, her mind was elsewhere. This was likely why she missed the much better hidden figure that was shadowing him. Her mind was, though not as often as some might think, on the blond-haired boy next to her. She fought a blush as she noticed his stolen glance, and for the most part was successful. Close proximity to him had made that easier, and it was always said that necessity was the mother of progress. It was made easier, however, by the fact that she also could see that behind his conviction and smiling, there was turmoil. At first she wrote it off as a simple effect of the mission and progress in recovering his former teammates. But, as she thought about it, she was beginning to realize that it was becoming more and more common for him and had started even before they'd left.
She had wanted to speak with Neji-niisan about it. The elder Hyuuga jounin always had been better at reading people. But, after their 'late' arrival on the Kazekage's recovery mission, Gai-sensei had whisked his whole team off for some sort of 'intensive training' to 'relight their flames of youth' and she hadn't the time to do so. She had momentarily considered asking her father, but the thought of bringing up Naruto to her father filled her with a strange sense of embarrassment and a shade of pink she had usually reserved for when the blond boy was in close proximity to her.
At one point, she had considered asking Tsunade-sensei, but never got the chance. She was remarkably busy and rarely in a pleasant mood it seemed. Something about the elder's being a royal pain from what Hinata could gather. Kakashi had disappeared on a mission, and Kurenai-sensei hadn't spent enough time around Naruto to give any real advice. Kiba was so rarely around as well, given his place in the ANBU Black Ops, and Shino was… well, he was Shino. Not particularly her first choice for advice on human relations. She felt somewhat guilty about not seeing her old teammates or sensei all that much anymore, but found it hard to regret where she was. Which was acting as the lookout for the rest of her squad, she realized rather suddenly, and not daydreaming!
"They are almost to the bridge." She said suddenly, snapping out of her reverie. Naruto stiffened and fixated on the approaching figure. A man, it seemed, from the looks of things. Yamato had begun to walk across the bridge, dressed in the rather impressive disguise that made him a near perfect imitation of Sasori's strange puppet armor. As the two figures met on the bridge, Naruto could once again feel his heart begin to pound.
They were getting closer. He was going to get them back. He'd promised. And he never went back on his word.
Never.