Disclaimer: Naruto is the work of mangaka Masashi Kishimoto, Harry Potter is the work of author J.K. Rowling. The author makes no claim to ownership of the aforementioned works and no profit from this fanfiction.

Uchiha Fukurou

Of Uprisings, Eruptions and Explosions

Now was the time!

He rushed forward heedless of the battle taking place all around him. The wind whipped through his hair as he dashed onward into the mist with all his might. He spared only just enough concentration to avoid any obstacle between him and his target. The light emanating from his sword was a beacon and a shield. Even in this thick, chakra laden mist the cursed light of his jutsu could be seen. And all who saw the light of his blade were frozen in mind and body for as long as they gazed upon that sight. Those who saw his technique were unaware of the passage of time for the duration of its hold on them. For most, he was but a flicker of light in the corner of the eyes that came and passed like a fleeting spectre.

He was chosen for this task because of all others, it was his jutsu that was best suited to counter the powers of the sharingan. All it took was for Fukurou to give him one glance and it would be over no matter how great the man's occular prowess was. The mist parted before him and the figure that he was searching for could be seen dashing across the water with weapon bared. Hiko positioned his glowing blade before himself and imparted what chakra he had to spare to his legs for one final burst of speed.

He gritted his teeth at his opponent's last, shocked look, "Forgive me…"

Lightning crackled across his sword as the blade swept up in a deadly arc. There was a spray of blood, his heart thundered in his ears and then silence…

Fukurou screamed in anguish...

Earlier that day

The eastern edge of the outer city was in flames, tainting the skies with the blush of a false dawn. The residence of the Water Daimyo was a castle situated commandingly upon a natural rock outcrop that formed part of a foothill overlooking a natural harbor. The castle was in truth a small, nearly self-sufficient city with stores of several years' worth of food and an unlimited supply of fresh water. Built around it was a fortress administered by the Daimyo's own samurai retainers, men sworn to defend the castle from any and all invaders.

A city had grown up around that fortress, or rather; the small coastal village at the natural harbor near the foothills had grown to encompass the fortress. Either way it was a symbiotic relationship. The military presence and economic power of the Daimyo bolstering trade at the growing port until it became a primary transport hub for goods and people, enriching the Daimyo with taxes on everything passing through the place.

The capital city was guarded by seven shinobi garrisons. One was at the port and one guarded the sea gate, a system of chains, mines and armed barges that controlled the entrance to the harbor. A third garrison guarded any coastal approaches to the Daimyo's inner city while a fourth garrison to the north ensured that no raiders sailed inland through the closest estuary located there to become a threat to the city. The three remaining garrisons served to anchor a series of palisades around the main fortress that were now overgrown by houses. The garrisons themselves had been time and again relocated to the outer edges of the city border with its inhabitants serving as a city guard and in emergencies providing a harrying force that would delay invaders long enough to warn the Inner City of an attack.

Two of those garrisons were burning, casting an orange glow upon the early pre-dawn sky. The Daimyo himself watched through a field-glass, against the strenuous recommendation of his bodyguards, from the edge of a shuttered window. He saw the torrent of lava that flew into high into the sky as if released by a violent volcanic eruption. The lava hit an apex before falling in an unstoppable arc. A few desperate water jutsu clashed with it, but the heavy basaltic rock, still glowing red hot in some places fell inexorably upon an unseen target in the distance. From the sound of the screams and the lessening number of water and earth-type jutsu being thrown upon the flames, the southeastern Mist-shinobi garrison had just been destroyed.

The Daimyo of Water Country was a thin man with graying hair and a face etched with the worries that had aged him far beyond his years. There was little to be done for the battle now taking place. Even had he the confidence in his own forces' military prowess, there were a quarter of a million inhabitants potentially being held hostage in the crossfire of a battle he didn't think that he could win. And if he couldn't win against the forces of the Mizukage within the capital, what could he do about the rebel forces that were crushing them so handily?

Fortunately this was one difficult decision that he had an answer to. After years of anxiety and inaction, he finally could see a possible solution. Until this point no open support for the rebels had been made on his part, talks with that Terumi woman had all been held with lower ranking officials and the retainers of retainers. He hadn't dared to risk an attack from the Mizukage, not for his own life which would be forfeit, but because that sort of internal strife could not be hidden for long. The annals of history held many bloody examples of the wars that would result from the open destabilization of Water Country. At best such a thing would mean a fourth world war, at worst, the end of Water Country as a viable nation and political entity.

The Daimyo took a deep breath and for the moment managed to banish all of his worries. Casually he patted the fan in his right hand against his left shoulder three times and then shut it with an audible snap.

There was a whisper of a sound, one that could have been the hiss of a drawn blade or the hollow tone of a night draft over the stone of the castle…

"Jissen Kenbu"

The daimyo withheld a wince at the muted thumps coming from behind him. It was the sound of bodies hitting the floor, he imagined. Still, in turning away so as not to see the traitors being executed, he was subjected to another unpleasant sight.

For an instant he was face to face with a dead man. He swore softly as the corpse fell past the window and into the darkness of the castle grounds below. Fortunately the gloom hid the body and no alarm was raised. A trembling hand lifted the reopened fan to his lips and he held it there as if it could guard against all the evils of the world.

He could have done without seeing such ugliness up close and personal but he supposed that it was a small price to be free of the Mizukage's minders. Thankfully, by the time he turned around the dead bodies were nowhere to be seen and all that remained of the ranks of his personal guard were two loyal retainers, one of whom was daubing blood from his face having stood too close to one of his now deceased fellows. The other retainer kept up a brave front, but there was a slight wildness in his eyes as he stared at the man now standing in the center of the room that assured the daimyo that looking away had been a wise decision.

The Daimyo tapped his fan against his thin lips as he looked over the newcomer warily, "Hmm, what did you say that your name was again? Hijikata Aoshi, was it? Tell me again how you intend to deal with that monster of a Mizukage, while my samurai man the port garrisons that your people have so kindly emptied for me."

The man calling himself Hijikata Aoshi bowed with appropriate respect from one of his station to the Daimyo of Water Country. Still, the bangs that framed Aoshi's face and cast it in shadow did nothing to hide the cold blue gems that passed for eyes glinting within that hard visage. Again the daimyo found himself holding his fan before his trembling lips wondering what kind of ogre woman was Terumi Mei to have the likes of Kenbu no Aoshi, apparently the new wielder of the Raitō no Kiba; and the Devil of the Hidden Mist on her pay roll. He bet she was single.

He looked at Aoshi again."She's definitely single…"

Later…

A number of messenger birds had been sent in the direction of Kirigakure no Sato by the time that the fighting was over. Any Mist shinobi trying to find cover in the capital quickly found themselves at odds with the daimyo's forces that had poured out of the inner city. The Water Daimyo's security forces had been combed through months before by Ao's protégés, themselves former hunter nin, looking for spies and bolt holes. The bolt holes were taken care of in one fell swoop, along with any hidden weapon caches they discovered.

Realistically they must have missed some loyalist refuges but the Mizukage had few friends in the capital city. The Daimyo was not a prisoner of his military only on the technicality that the line between enforced isolation and house arrest had never been pushed. The Mizukage would learn however that Terumi Mei was in the capital. The shower of magma was her signature. The Mizukage was left with no other option than to reclaim the city from the elusive rebel leader or risk losing all legitimacy as a leader.

Of course the rebel's situation also presented a long sought after opportunity for Yagura. Both sides would be brought to a final conclusive battle over the capital of Water. The Rebels fully expected that the Mizukage would grasp the opportunity to kill Mei. It played right into their hands for a very simple reason…

In a stone bunker that served as a temporary replacement for the eastern garrison, now a hill of slag, 'Mei Terumi' looked over a scroll bearing three empty containment seals. Root agent Torune stood beside her, calmly sub-vocalizing his report into the communication seal in the back of his throat.

Torune :: All positions are currently being prepared for the counter attack.

Command :: Good, prepare yourselves Fū, Torune…

Fū :: We've already set up the required seals sir. I've used all lava traps so my platoon along with Torune's will be setting up traps and dummy tunnels.

Command :: Good work.

Three days travel from the capital, Fukurou stopped communicating as soon as he entered the rebel command center and was noticed by the true Mei Terumi with an ever wary Ao at her side.

"The attack was a success," Fukurou told them without preamble, "The capital has been taken and Daimyo-sama has thrown his support in with the rebel –excuse me, the Mist Liberation Forces."

Ao snorted and Mei commented, "How fortunate for us to be legitimized by our Daimyo." Her tone was neither elated nor sarcastic.

Ao however, spoke his feelings more openly, "Hmph! Now he has the courage to speak up, now when we've all but taken over and not when Yagura was out hunting loyal shinobi and massacring entire villages! Why in my day…"

Mei cut him off but not with her usual aura of vexation when the man began rambling about bygone eras, "It must not have been easy for our Lord to remain inactive. To oppose Yagura without proper military support and fail would have been more disastrous for our country in the long term." She did seem to believe that, although the rebel leader's tone suggested that she emphasized with Ao's sentiment more than her word's suggested. "What's important is that we're finally in a position to put an end to this madness once and for all!"

Fukurou couldn't always get a clear reading off of her but she seemed sincere. Looking over to the Daimyo's representative, a samurai general who had been slowly reddening at Ao's contemptuous denunciation of the daimyo, he found that the man looked mollified by Mei's simple but heartfelt words. He nodded to himself. This more than anything else proved how suitable a leader Mei was. To quickly and sincerely find the right words that appealed to the most people in such a positive and inspiring way. All done without scripting, the woman was certainly charismatic.

They were in the middle of a forest to the south of Kirigakure. Their position put them on the headlands overlooking one of the few estuaries that could provide the Mizukage with quick access to the to the Capital, without wasting energy trekking over the mountains that were likely areas for a guerilla ambush and had in fact been prepared in advance if such an opportunity presented itself. Fukurou had small squads of shinobi with Lava and various exploding traps positioned all through the foothills and valleys that separated Water Country into north and south.

These small four man squads were spread throughout the country aiding the locals in hampering any attemps by the Mizukage to move his forces over land, even through the numerous lakes and water ways of the main island. The Mist rebels commanded pirate fleets that did the same to forces passing through the outlying islands, a practice that had also served to maintain Water Country's isolationist posture. The only secure option left for Yagura's loyalists was to hug the coast and recapture garrison to the north of the capital by sailing upriver.

The choke point of the bay was where the now styled 'Mist Liberators' were planning to spring their final trap for Yagura and his forces, hopefully dealing a final decisive blow to the forces of the Mizukage. Of course the thing about traps was that they sometimes sprang on the ones setting them. Still, Fukurou felt confident enough in their plan to gather together six platoons for this mission a third of all Root forces on the island. As a concession to a sense of precaution one platoon would be guarding the passes through the mountains in order to hold open a line of retreat if necessary.

Of the remaining five platoons, one was set up to provide security for a mobile field hospital, one each was placed under the command of Hiko and Shigure and the last two fell under the command of Fukurou with Kensei as his lieutenant. The Mist Liberation Forces numbered at four hundred and were evenly divided among Mei, Ao, Zabuza and a flotilla of pirate ships hiding in the mist further down the coast. All that was left was for them to wait. This route was the fastest and seemingly safest path for the Mizukage to take. Either Zabuza's men would meet them as they sailed south from Kirigakure or the Mizukage had chosen an overland route, in which case the harrying forces seeded in the foothills should buy the liberators enough time to reposition.

All that remained was for them to wait. Fukurou did as his training dictated he should and sat within his command tent meditating. It would be a quiet eight hours on that cold and gloomy day. He could only imagine how much worse it must be for Shigure and her platoon situated in the swamplands south of his position at the river's mouth. Mei and Fukurou's forces were on a promontory with a commanding position over the bay. Hiko was best off, positioned with Ao who ran communications for the allied forces and would be in charge of directing reinforcements as needed.

Off The Coast

The troopships of the Loyalist Kirigakure forces fearlessly cut through the mists that enshrouded the waters that they sailed through. From time to time, shinobie would leap from the three leading vessels onto the water as easily as dismounting from a horse-drawn carriage. These shinobi would then race ahead of the sailing ships, fanning out into the gloom searching for threats. The boats quickly caught up with them, accelerated as they were by wind jutsu and manipulated currents. The shinobi would then leap back on and another team would take over where they left off.

It was a fine tactic for scouting ahead and well practiced but using standard tactics against rebels with the same training was a liability that Yagura's men paid in blood. As the new team of shinobi leapt off the boat, the men they were replacing suddenly morphed into eight mirror images of Momochi Zabuza who unceremoniously lopped off their heads. The attackers managed to kill three more crewmen, genin sailors, before they were quickly dispatched by the upper level shinobi on the deck. The clones fell apart, reverting to with splashes of water that washed over the deck.

Their victory was short-lived as a boyish voice called out from somewhere within the mists.

"Sensatsu Suishō!"

The water pooling on the deck of the ship and floating in the shrouds of mist collected together and froze into slender needles of ice. There were so many of them that the upper deck of the transport ship seemed to become an overgrown lawn filled with icy slivers instead of grass. There were several bodies beneath the deathly cold overgrowth as only the small wheel house and the lower decks were safe from the barrage. Those men who chose to dive over the side quickly discovered that not all of Zabuza's clones had leapt onto the boats.

Distant shouts indicated that the scene was being replicated on the three leading vessels of the fleet of six troop ships. Cries and curses flitted through the air as shadows boiled forth from below the decks of the ships. The Mist shinobi loyal to the Mizukage admirably responded to the attacks with stunning alacrity. The mist was dissipated with wind and water jutsu and swordsmen and women drew their blades and formed into combat groups surrounding the three stricken ships while signaling for reinforcements from the three trailing ships.

This time instead of Haku, a chorus of older voices both male and female cried out, "Hyōton: Ryūki Hyōzan!"

There was a terrible sound, a rumbling groan of tortured hulls as the flotilla of ships suddenly ground to a halt. Men cried out in alarm as true to the technique's name, the tips of icebergs began to project themselves out of the water. The clear blue crystalline growths pinned the ships between them as they continued rising out of the sea. This carried on until the pressure and weight became too much. With a series of deafening cracks, the six troop ships ruptured, spilling men and supplies.

Most of the shinobi survived the attack, but their ships were gone. It was then that Mei Terumi stepped forth from her place atop the sea cliffs. "Truly, the power of the Yuki clan is wondrous. Yagura… you poor fool." She murmured.

With a motion akin to blowing a kiss, a hot stream of lava spewed forth from Mei's mouth and high into the air. It was identical to the attacks that had destroyed the three Mist garrisons earlier in the day, except a wave of fire swept down from the cliffs on her right, enhanced by raging torrents of wind. Zabuza's forces had been held back in favor of the clones in preparation for this intense multi-elemental attack. The massive frozen pillars of Ice sublimated into vapor at they were doused in lava and bathed in a firestorm.

With a thunderous boom that scattered men, fire, wind, water and burning earth, the final battle for control of Water Country began.

AN: Split this into two chapters. The other will be out soon but I'm pretty busy.

Hyōton: Ryūki Hyōzan = Ice Release: Iceberg Projection

TTFN.