Chapter 28: Revelations Part One

Six Weeks Later, The Village Hidden in the Clouds

And to think, this is where it all began for me. Shame to see it go. Shoryu looked around as he reached the small, grassy clearing atop his old home. Everything was exactly where he left it, only it looked different. His mat had frayed, overgrown with weeds, and the three targets set exactly fifteen paces away were battered and faded in their four years of neglect.

Shoryu remembered how he used to come up here to get away from everything – to train and collect his thoughts in silence. Back then he was the scrawny emo who'd failed his clan, and now he was a respected Chunin of the Village. A vivid flashbulb memory allowed Shoryu to recall everything from that day four and a half years ago. Between what he had for breakfast and Reizo's approval, nothing slipped his mind about the day he became a ninja.

Shoryu also recalled his morning training session; out of three targets he hit bulls-eye on only one. Such a distance seemed child's play to him now, but if only to prove himself Shoryu drew two windmill shuriken. The first one hit dead centre – a perfect kill.

The second however acted much differently. Being infused with a coating of wind-natured chakra, the second windmill shuriken crashed straight through its target in an explosion of splinters and dried paint. It continued its flight until altered by a hand sign from the boy, allowing it to curve on a different course and boomerang back to the third and final target.

As he surveyed his work Shoryu grinned; what once seemed impossible to him was nothing but a routine exercise to those with experience. He retrieved the shuriken from the targets, pulling them out with extreme difficulty before absently toying around with a new trick.

Just as always Shoryu hooked his first finger inside the hole at the centre of the giant shuriken. Slowly, without moving at all, the boy began to channel chakra. He directed it to his index finger, but instead of coating the blade he focused on making it vibrate. Sure enough, the shuriken began to spin.

"New technique? Or do you revel in misusing your abilities?" said a voice.

The boy looked over his shoulder to see Kazuya, his armour all dusty having climbed the flimsy rung ladder built by a pre-teen Shoryu. Shrugging, the commander replied. "Too soon to talk about really. I've been trying to think of a way this could be useful. No luck so far – it could take me years to make it practical."

"A spinning blade?" Kazuya narrowed his eyebrows and observed the shuriken atop Shoryu's finger, quickly building speed until it became a lethal shredding device. "I could think up of a few uses for a weapon like that."

"Yeah, you'd think so wouldn't you?" Shoryu noted. "But wait for it. . ." The boy ducked his head and held the shuriken above him, waiting for the inevitable as the bladed star began to gyrate at speeds impossible to follow. In the end it reacted as Shoryu expected; the excess chakra made it spin too fast. The shuriken launched itself from his finger and shot straight up into the air like a firework, gaining fifty feet of air before it came back down and cartwheeled to a stop in the grass.

"See?" said Shoryu. "Impossible to control. Even if I tried to aim, it wouldn't be as powerful or effective as just throwing it."

"Well there's a dilemma." Kazuya looked around the pitifully poor training camp. In previous times Shoryu knew the samurai would mock him for it, but Kazuya wasn't in the joking mood – he hadn't been for a while. "Why are you up here anyway?" he asked.

"My mom is moving out, to the other side of the Village. I figured I should give this place one last visit just for old times' sake," explained Shoryu. "I spent a lot of time up here as a kid."

"Yes, she told me where to find you. She also said she could use your help with the boxes."

"I'll be right there." Shoryu nodded and headed off to the ladder, tactfully avoiding Kazuya until he decided to speak up again.

"I didn't come here just to tell you that."

Shoryu stopped and turned.

"Shoryu, it's been six weeks," he lamented. "Six whole weeks. Reizo comes back tomorrow; if he doesn't have any new information I'll have to leave. I know I probably won't find her – I know it better than you think – but anything beats sitting on my ass waiting here for something that won't come."

The commander sighed and resigned himself to Kazuya's resolve. There was no stopping him now; Shoryu himself had convinced him to come back to the Cloud and all it brought them was six weeks of twiddling their thumbs waiting for Reizo to return to the village. At the very least Fujiko's kidnap meant that Kazuya's samurai were now firmly on board, ready to strike whenever a location was specified.

Where Reizo had been all this time Shoryu had no idea. One would assume he'd gone to fight in the war as he usually did, although no division commanders reported his presence and any higher-ups Shoryu asked were deliberately vague. Only hawks carrying his letters confirmed he was okay, and even they gave no indicator of his whereabouts. Shoryu could only hope Reizo had some information, but if he didn't, Kazuya was out of his hands.

"So be it. Do what you have to." said the boy.

"You won't try to stop me?" Kazuya seemed surprised. "You're a commander, you've got enough pull with the elites to suspend me, or even strip me of my rank."

"I do, but I couldn't think of anything more insulting."

Kazuya allowed himself a chuckle as the two reached an understanding. "Thanks."

"Anytime. See you around Kazuya."

As the samurai mumbled his farewells Shoryu nodded and headed back down the ladder. Like most homes in the Village, Shoryu's lay in the hollowed-out spire of a frighteningly high mountain. Several were normally built into one peak, and each was joined by a rigid walkway that joined the towering summits together.

Shoryu headed through the simple wooden door, into his living room and the smell of roast chicken soup boiling over a stove. Over by the sofa his mother had compiled items into boxes arranged in categories – dishes went in one, sheets in another and so on.

After making his way across the room Shoryu leaned over the scalding pot and took one delightful sniff of the soup.

"Something smells good," he said.

Yuuko turned and beamed a strange smile, playing innocent. "Yes honey, but it isn't ready yet. In the meantime could my big strong Shoryu please help me out with all these boxes? There's still some left in my room."

Shoryu released an exhale; something about the way she said 'big' and 'strong' made him doubt he was carrying boxes of pillows. He put a hand across his forehead and feigned annoyance, "Such injustice! I come home after four years of tireless war, only to be immediately swamped by heavy lifting and constant physical labour!"

"Suck it up Shoryu, you're never too important for chores."

"Fiiine," he pouted. Obediently Shoryu headed for the door and up the stairs.

The hardest thing about living inside a mountain was the space. As the building got higher, the walls got closer and the roof coned inwards. Stairs became a pain; at thirteen years old Shoryu could climb them no problem, but since returning home he found he had to duck down to avoid hitting the roof with a whack. Having not seen the new house, Shoryu hoped it would be roomier.

True to his mother's word half a dozen boxes creased the sheets of her double bed, labelled to designate their contents. Preferring to get the heaviest out of the way first, Shoryu weighed up both the 'books' and 'photos' boxes before settling on the latter. Even the heaviest was easy enough.

On his way back down however, Shoryu's confidence got the better of him. He was so preoccupied with wondering how people struggled with moving boxes that he forgot something crucial: he forgot to duck.

With one painful smack Shoryu's forehead met the curb of the jutting roof, sending him sprawling back up the stairs. As the box landed heavily on his lap with a noise of shattering glass he wished he'd worn his forehead protector.

"Aw crap," he muttered. A small bump to his head was bad enough, but breaking the contents of the box was something else. Still sat on the staircase, Shoryu opened it to check. Cracked glass scratched his finger from the top few photo frames, but thankfully only those had shattered; everything beneath had survived unharmed.

Shoryu cursed again when he heard the rapid footsteps of his mother speeding for the door. She was there in moments.

"Shoryu? What the hell was that?"

"Sorry mom," he began apologising, "I'm really, really sorry. I hit my head again and well. . ." He held up the first photograph – the card inside remained untouched, but the frame certainly needed replacing.

Instead of scorning him though, Yuuko Aizawa only sighed and huffed. "It's fine, I'll get it fixed. You're too big for this house. Your father had the same problem; we were actually going to move out before. . ." She trailed off at the memory of her deceased husband. Shoryu bit his tongue at the silence, though before he could speak his mother cracked a smile and motioned at the photo. "It's incredible how much you look like him – Shoichi I mean. Sometimes I wonder if you inherited anything from me at all."

Shoryu flipped over the photo so he could see, only just coming to realise what picture he'd been holding.

It was a wedding photo, a scene of joy centred on a younger version of his mother and a man whose resemblance to Shoryu was now uncanny. He had that same wave of upright chocolate coloured hair, barely a year or so older with a heavy stubble and his right arm in a sling. At least thirty people surrounded them, most of them, like his mother, bestowed with hair of the darkest black.

"I never knew so many people from the clan went to your wedding," said Shoryu.

"It was a long time ago. You'll probably recognise one or two," she replied.

At his mother's words Shoryu studied the picture more closely. Right on the borders of the photo stood a much leaner and less bitter looking Saito Yukizawa. Just looking at him brought a bad taste to Shoryu's mouth, though seeing the boy stood in front of him brought a different reaction.

Composure broken, the young Chunin suddenly erupted in a fit of laughter, nearly dropping the precious photograph again in his outburst. He continued to chuckle as he stared at the eleven year old Raikage in-training, all dressed up in a cute dark suit to match his short ponytail.

"Reizo was at your wedding?" he proclaimed. "That's hilarious! Look at him! He looks tiny! Do you have any more? I'm so going to use these against him!"

"I wouldn't if I were you. I imagine there are some even younger photos of you knocking around somewhere. That is if Saito hasn't burned them all yet," warned Yuuko.

Shoryu agreed with a nod as his laughter finally subsided. Looking directly at the pre-teen Kage was still likely to make him giggle, so he directed his attention elsewhere. Instead he went back to his previous point about the clan; there weren't just a lot of them, they made up the entire audience. Even those without the trademark Zawa features he recognised as the spouses of his distant aunties and uncles.

"Hey mom, didn't my dad invite anyone? He must've had family," Shoryu asked.

"I told you before honey, he never spoke to them. They lived far away. At that wedding there were thirty-six Zawa and only one Senmatsu. Shoichi didn't care though, as long as we were together he-"

But Yuuko never finished her sentence. Instead the woman was cut off by another smash as her son dropped the photo again, totally shattering the glass within. Her look of anger was met with one of bewilderment, fear and awe. Shoryu looked ill. He put his knees up and curled into a ball, blocking off all else as he fell into a stupor.

All this time. All this time and it's been right in front of me. It was so obvious; why didn't I see it before? The inquiries of his mother suddenly pulled him from his trance. If only for confirmation, Shoryu made her repeat it one more time.

"My father's surname. . . What did you say it was again?" he asked.

"Senmatsu. . . Why?"

I've been such an idiot. I always thought it was strange; I figured he was caught up in the affairs of that messed up family, but to think he could be one of them. . .

"Shoryu. Shoryu come on, you're scaring me."

"This is going to sound strange," he said at last, finally getting to his feet. "But you remember Kazuya? The samurai who just came in?"

"Yeah?"

Shoryu laughed to himself; he never thought he'd say this. "I think I might be related to him."

"Achoo!"

Kazuya's sneeze flew from him without warning, disrupting his meditation atop the highest peak of the Village Hidden in the Clouds. Just twenty feet off a ledge below him lay the row of chutes that tunnelled through the mountain, transporting folk to and from the surface.

Here the samurai waited, patiently suspended in thought as he awaited the arrival of some kind of messenger. Reizo wasn't scheduled to return until tomorrow, but Kazuya would be damned if the Raikage came early and he somehow missed out on it. What great reserves of tolerance he had were slowly fading; if there was no news, honour dictated he must leave.

"Got a cold?" teased a voice.

Kazuya turned towards Ayako; she'd crept up on him without his noticing, nursing an ice lolly in one hand whilst hauling a shopping bag in the other.

"I guess so," he said.

"Or someone might be talking about you, that's what they say isn't it?"

Kazuya scoffed, muttering something like 'foolish superstition' before he closed his eyes again. Feeling guilty, Ayako decided to sit for a while. It wasn't bad so high up; the chill wind took time to get used to, but the scenery was so calm and quiet she couldn't help but appreciate it. In six weeks she'd barely seen Kazuya at all; now she knew where he'd been the whole time.

"I know it isn't really my place to say this," Ayako began. "But I'm sure we'll get her back. You don't have to worry."

"Hn," was the samurai's only reply.

"You know I admire what you and Fujiko have. I've only spoken to her a few times but it's obvious how much you mean to her. I really wish I could have that someday, but you know me, the job always comes first."

Kazuya's eyes flipped open in interest. "You mean with Shoryu?"

Ayako laughed off the comment, albeit awkwardly. "Yeah right. As if! No way. Never in a million years."

"You're a terrible liar Ayako."

"Shut it, he's my boss. It wouldn't be appropriate."

"Appropriate? You really think he sees you and me as subordinates? He's chummy with whoever he likes whatever their rank; Shoryu doesn't care about anyone's authority, even his own. At any rate, if you're going to be Raikage it won't be long before you're his boss."

"Hmm." Ayako pondered for a moment. "Good point."

A comfortable silence held the peak for a time as the girl went back to her fruity ice pop. Thinking up things to say proved difficult. Kazuya clearly wasn't in the mood for talking, but that very problem bothered Ayako and the others.

He'd never been especially chatty, but never before had Kazuya cut himself off from everyone around him. Shoryu even told her that he'd taken a break from their nightly sparring after four years of total dedication. If sword fighting didn't inspire the samurai she wondered if anything could.

"Ayako is there something you needed?" Kazuya suddenly snapped.

Without faltering Ayako responded, telling the hard truth. "Everyone is worried about you. I just need to know if you're alright."

"Everyone?"

"Me, Hoshi, Yuudai, Jinga. Hell, even Shoryu."

Kazuya released a long breath against the wind. Standing, he pushed back a strand of hair as his free hand hovered by his sword. Ayako wondered whether or not he even realised how his fingers constantly groped around the hilt of that weapon, reluctant as he seemed to use it.

"You don't need to worry about me. Really," he explained. "I'm not sat up here moping, I'm not having doubts and I'm sure as hell not feeling sorry for myself. I know my own strength; I know I'll get her back."

"Then-"

"-I'm simply waiting, trying to contemplate which exact methods I should use to enact vengeance on anyone or any thing that tries to get in my way."

"So let me get this straight," Yuuko's voice cooed over.

Shoryu sat at the table, out of breath and slouched with his head in hands after covering everything in excruciating detail. He sipped weakly at the chicken soup, staring blankly down at the creased wedding photo depicting his long-dead father. He was only half listening as his mother went on.

"So you're saying that Shoichi was a member of a wanted, criminal organisation consisting of a family of evil, high-powered ninja."

"Right," he said.

"And that this family is not only responsible for starting the Fifth Shinobi World War, but also for conducting illicit experiments to create some powerful dojutsu called the 'Jikogan' and perhaps even something else called the 'Alpha Gene'."

"That's what we believe." Shoryu took another mouthful of the soup; it was already cold after he spent so long toying with it. "What baffles me is why I didn't know any sooner. How the hell did I overlook that? I should've known my own dad's surname right? I mean, didn't you change yours to his when you got married?"

Yuuko shook her head. "Nope. I wanted to, but the clan has strict rules about that sort of thing. Not that I cared, but Shoichi was insistent that I kept my own name. If what you're saying is true then I guess it makes sense. He was ashamed of it."

"I still should've known it." Shoryu cursed his ignorance.

"I probably mentioned it a few times when you were younger. I suppose you just forgot it."

"Sounds about right," he said. "Look mom, I'm not saying he was a bad guy, in fact based on what we know I doubt that very much. . . But I can't say the same for his family. . . My family." He suddenly considered the reality. "Any information you can give us on them might be crucial to stopping this war."

Yuuko shook her head. "I'm sorry Shoryu but I can't help you there. He never said it outright, but I could tell he loathed them. Whenever I tried to get him to introduce me he'd shut off. I told you last time you asked, he had a brother and a sister who I never met, but he never spoke fondly of them. Same story for his father – he seemed to despise him more than any, although I know his mother passed away when he was young."

"Surely there must be something," Shoryu insisted. Piece by piece the jigsaw was being solved; he wouldn't stop now until he had all the answers.

"Well, like I said last time you asked, he did have one cousin he got along well with. I met him a few times too but for the life of me I can't remember his name. You understand this was a long time ago – before you were even born." Yuuko paused as she racked her brain for an answer. "Urgh – I know it's up there somewhere. M – M something, I'm sure, it started with an M. . . Misae. . . No, Miku. . . No, that's not right."

Shoryu groaned. This just keeps getting better and better. "That wouldn't happen to be Michio Senmatsu would it?"

"Yes!" His mother almost leapt to her feet when the name came up. "That was it! How did you know that?"

"Well that solves another mystery at least: Michio was Kazuya's dad. If my father was his first cousin, then that makes Kazuya and me second cousins. Kinda glad he's not too closely related now that I think about it."

"Then congratulations! Better family than you're used to right?"

"I guess." Shoryu let out another exhale as he buried his hands in his hair. All this at once became too much to take in, being caught up in this sordid affair. Kazuya aside, the only other two Senmatsu-bred ninja he'd come across were vile creatures with hidden agendas who'd stop at nothing to get their way. Suzume and her mother Madoka; Shoryu could hardly blame his father for not inviting people like that to his wedding.

Despite all the new information though, Shoryu could've sworn he was still missing something else blatantly obvious, like an unconscious thought just out of his reach. After searching his mind for a quarter of an hour only to come out clueless, the boy looked back down to his chicken soup.

Then he saw it.

Something about that photo by his dish didn't quite add up. At his own wedding, his father's right arm was bandaged up and held tight in a cast. Shoryu acknowledged that it was a longshot, but a sudden thought occurred to him, something he kicked himself for not considering until now.

Four years ago, when he first found out that his father was in fact a skilled summoner, Shoryu had suspected that the late Shoichi might in fact be the previous name inscribed on the blood seal of the dragons. Unlike the others, the prior name had not faded with the decay of time; in fact it was relatively fresh.

The most distinctive thing about that name however, was the appalling handwriting it was inked in – so unintelligible that reading it became impossible. In addition, it was also the only seal bound with a left handed print.

In order to test his theory about his father without giving Kyoh away, Shoryu had instead asked his mother about his father's preferred hand, after which she confirmed Shoichi was indeed right handed. For four years Shoryu never gave it another thought, but this new development could've proved otherwise.

"Mom," he spoke up. "Why is my dad's arm in a cast at your wedding?"

Yuuku smiled at the memory. "Oh, that? The idiot broke it on a mission pretty badly just before we got married – made for terrible photographs. For four months his right arm was locked in that damn cast and he was a nightmare for it. Every little thing I had to do for him – he couldn't cook, do housework, throw a kunai, exercise. He even wrote me a letter once when he was off on a mission trying to use his left hand: completely incoherent. He also tried-"

The door banged shut to cut off the housewife's speech as Shoryu raced out into the open. A second eureka hit him in an instant. In reckless abandon he clambered up the side of his house until he reached his small field atop the summit. His urgency became so great that it took him three failed attempts to finally pull off his technique.

"Summoning Jutsu!"

After five hand signs Shoryu palmed the ground with a shout. Within seconds a smokescreen enveloped the entire clearing, masking the arrival of the dragon Kyoh. He seemed just as perturbed as ever, giving his summoner an eye of caution as he licked the last scraps of flesh from a deer skeleton.

"You called?" he asked, never turning from his meal.

"Yes, this is important. Kyoh, I need you to go and get the blood seal I signed, right away," instructed Shoryu.

The dragon however, seemed unconvinced. "You know you'll need my permission if you're going to add someone to that list."

"I'm not adding anyone! I swear it! I just need to check something!"

Kyoh rumbled a low growl as he continued to suck morsels from the ribcage of his prey. He took a few more moments of gorging himself, ignorant of the hurry, before finally replying. "Alright."

With that, the dragon vanished in another plume of smoke. Shoryu thought he'd never experience time go so slowly; after just a minute he began to wonder what the hell was taking Kyoh so long – he needed to confirm this once and for all, didn't the dragon understand that?

After two minutes Shoryu sat. He drummed his fingers against his leg and pedalled his heels, and when that got tedious he removed his father's old flute and began to play. He only got a few notes in before something else occurred to him.

As Kazuya noticed before, the flute came from the Village Hidden in the Glacier, a samurai village. If Kazuya's father was a close friend and cousin to his own, then it seemed likely that he was actually the one to give Shoichi this instrument. After all, samurai never trusted outsiders, but Michio had conceived a child with one.

Another comic poof interrupted Shoryu's train of thought as Kyoh burst back into the clearing. Caught between his jaws – along with the remains of his kill – was the same scroll Shoryu had signed in blood four years ago. The boy snatched it from his jaws and peeled it open.

Just as he left it, six names including his own were smeared in blood across the age-old parchment. He placed his eyes to the fifth as his heart skipped a beat. Now that he knew what it was supposed to say, reading the name became no problem at all. In fact Shoryu quickly began to wonder how he'd ever mistaken it for anything else.

Shoichi Senmatsu.

The boy's eyes looked over the left handed print one more time as he slumped to the ground. "Shoryu you giant moron," he grumbled to himself. All along it was right in front of him; years ago they'd made jokes about how terrible that summoner's writing was. If he'd taken a moment to consider why the writing was so bad he could've figured it out sooner.

Of course. Because he wasn't writing with his preferred hand. It seemed obvious now. If I tried to finger paint my name with my own left hand – after cutting it for blood no less – I doubt my signature would read much better.

After sending Kyoh back home Shoryu remained seated outside, wrapped up in everything he'd learned in the last thirty minutes. Even though no one else had seen it either, he vowed to himself to never again be quite so dense – he was supposed to be intelligent; if that was the case, then what had he been doing this entire time?

Even as the rains came and went Shoryu remained. The winds howled and night fell eventually. He considered running to find Kazuya to tell him the news, but these days the samurai was mostly a no-show; he'd have as much luck finding Fujiko as he would finding her husband. No, he'd be with Reizo tomorrow – then he could tell him.

At least twelve hours passed as Shoryu remained in perfect silence and stillness. For the first time in what felt like forever, he had much to think about.

"Seriously Shoryu, what on earth are you playing at?"

The boy awoke with the wind on his face. His back felt wet from sleeping on damp grass and his muscles were stiff where he'd laid at an angle. He didn't need to open his eyes to realise he'd fallen asleep outside, nor to recognise the young woman chastising him.

"Ahh." Shoryu yawned and stretched out, finally opening his eyes. "I'm not even at war and I still get my favourite alarm clock."

"Very funny," said Ayako.

"Hey you really are – I wasn't joking!"

"Yes I know that; 'alarm clock' just so happens to be my all-time favourite pet name."

"Oh yeah." Shoryu took a second to think as he got to his feet. "Inanimate objects," he muttered to himself. "I've kinda been slipping lately haven't I?"

"With those lines? Not a chance," she joked. "Come on we can't waste time. The Raikage summoned all of us - he's found something important."

Shoryu threw on his jacket and snapped wide awake in an instant. Any news was good news. "Is it about Fujiko and the others?"

"I don't know yet, it could be."

The boy bit his tongue. Part of him wanted to spill out everything he'd learned the previous day – part of him even figured it might've been a dream. Once he was sure it was real he still remained silent; repeating himself was annoying. If he told Ayako everything now then he'd have to go over it all again once Kazuya and the others showed up.

At any rate, Cloud Headquarters was only a ten minute walk from his house. Shoryu doubted he had enough time to explain everything if he tried. They reached the complex in good time as memories fond and terrible returned to the boy.

Here he'd learned to be a ninja and mastered the basics. Here he'd also been subject to prejudice and bias from his former tutor. Whenever that thought came back to him the ugly trio of scars gave a twinge across his left leg.

Instead of going up in levels like usual, Shoryu and Ayako were greeted at the door by a man they recognised as Hatori, Reizo's right-hand man. He ushered them to a door carefully concealed behind a desk at the corner of the room, one requiring three keys to fully unlock before descending into a dark, dimly lit spiral staircase.

Shoryu shrugged and kept an eye out; after yesterday's promise to himself he remembered to keep on full alert in these situations. He never knew the Cloud Headquarters had an underground level, so whatever took place down here must've surely been top secret.

Then again, if that was really the case then why bring Chunin down here? Why would they have access? None of it added up. He pondered away, measuring three whole storeys down into the depths of the mountain by counting his steps that echoed loudly off the stairs.

Ayako twigged not long after he did. "We're going pretty far down. Hatori sir, are you sure we have this kind of clearance?"

"This is a special investigation, and your presence is required," grunted the ninja. "Try not to get dizzy."

"Yeah, spiral staircases always made me queasy," confessed the girl.

"Helix," Shoryu muttered. He'd opened his mouth without even realising, instantly regretting correcting her grammar. She'd give him hell for it.

"Sorry?" said Ayako, her tone accusing.

The young commander paused awkwardly, wondering whether or not to elaborate. Then, "The term spiral staircase is actually wrong. Spirals get wider and wider, if it stays the same width then it's a helix."

Ayako remained silent for a few moments before bursting into laughter. It echoed far more effectively than simple footsteps; even Hatori began to chuckle as Shoryu's cheeks flushed a little.

"Well excuse me Aizawa-sensei. I'll be sure to call it a helix staircase in future." she giggled. "Why do you even know that anyway?"

"I thought it was interesting!" argued Shoryu, cringing now at the name Aizawa. "But I suppose you live in a world where knowing things is considered weird!"

"Quiet. We're here," said the Jonin.

Light poured onto the landing of the helix staircase as a second heavy metal door swung open. Far beneath the surface of the Village Hidden in the Clouds, Shoryu figured this might've been the safest, most secure and well hidden place their ninja had to offer. One knock on the walls told him they were laid with stone and concrete, whereas the abundance of light told him that some people must've spent nearly all their time down here.

Filing cabinets sat opposite fireplaces and a number of doors proved this place was in fact an underground complex rather than a single room. A few ninja scuttled about with paperwork, but Shoryu didn't see anyone he recognised until Hatori led them to the next room.

Here the space was filled to the brim with faces, some familiar, others not. Each of them seemed to gravitate towards an ominous looking steel door. Kazuya stood in one corner. Reizo was here also – and to Shoryu's disappointment his father Saito. The clan leader shot him a dirty look once he was certain Reizo looked away.

For every face that he recognised though, there was another he did not. Most had their features shadowed by a shawl, leaving only a darkened view of their faces as they stared at the ground. One was a boy no older than Shoryu, and stood beside him was another man, tall of stature. This one Shoryu could've sworn he recognised; he scoured his memory for details until the candlelight hit the man, illuminating his face. Shoryu knew him, if only by reputation.

"Thank you for coming," Reizo began, wasting no time getting down to business. "Now as some of you already know, we have a very special guest in our custody today - one who could help us to end this war if he can give us the information he claims to know. I can't stress enough that this is an opportunity we cannot afford to waste."

Shoryu hummed thoughtfully; that still didn't answer the question of why they had been brought down here. What made them as Chunin so special that they were made privy to this? At the very least, Reizo answered one of his questions. "I see," he said. "Times must really be desperate if we're turning to the Land of Fire for help."

"Land of Fire?" Ayako turned to Shoryu and nudged him, flashing a warning glare. "What are you talking about this time?"

"He's sharp, this boy," said the tall stranger as he threw off his hood. Now that his cover was blown there was no use at all in keeping his identity a secret.

"Told you he was," said Reizo.

At over six feet tall the newcomer had fair, flowing hair of a mousy brown, contrasting against the sharp white robe he wore for protection. His most distinctive features – and by far his most unnerving – were his eyes. Twin orbs of a milky white, cold and without pupils, stared out to give him the look of a blind man. The reality was far off; those eyes saw almost everything, for this man was Hiromasa Hyuga: the Twelfth Hokage.

Shoryu threw up his hands. "I didn't see this one coming; but then I guess it was inevitable – the Lands of Fire and Lightning are the only ones left out of the five nations that only defend, not invade. But even so, Lord Raikage wouldn't agree to an alliance unless we had some common ground. What's all this about?"

Reizo looked about to speak up when Hiromasa intervened, wishing to do his part.

"Our guest today – the one Reizo spoke of – he's a Leaf hostage," explained the Hokage. "He's already told us who he is and that he knows things, but he'll only give us this information on the condition that he talks with one of three people."

"And which three people did he specify?" Shoryu asked the natural question.

"Kiyoshi Uchiha, Shoryu Aizawa and Kazuya Takashi – he said any of these will suffice. Fortunately we have two of you here today."

Shoryu cringed as he spotted Kazuya's look of confusion. Now that he was here Shoryu wanted more than anything to tell him about their shared heritage, but this hardly seemed the appropriate time. His mind wandered back to the current situation – how did Kiyoshi fit in with all this? Even that question begged another.

"Lord Hokage," Shoryu asked. "If he wanted any one of us three in exchange for information then why make this pact? Kiyoshi Uchiha is a Hidden Leaf ninja isn't he? Why not bring him in and keep the information to yourselves?"

"That would be ideal, but I'm afraid Kiyoshi Uchiha went missing last year. We have no information as to his whereabouts; he could be dead for all we know," confessed the Hyuga.

"I see." Kiyoshi being beaten seemed impossible to Shoryu. He and Kazuya had fought against him once, only to be annihilated the moment the Uchiha started taking the fight seriously. Despite improving much over four years, Shoryu doubted the results would be very different if they had their rematch.

The room turned to attention as Reizo took centre stage. "You'll meet our guest in groups of three. Once you go inside he'll perform a jutsu that will allow you to converse with him, so don't be alarmed. You see he can't talk with his lips – another mystery we've yet to solve. Since he wants Shoryu and Kazuya, I say we let them go first. Any preference for your third man?"

"Woman actually," said Shoryu, tugging Ayako forward by her sleeve. From just one look he could tell she had no clue what was happening – Shoryu had only a vague idea.

"That's great. You three were there when this whole thing began, so you'll know exactly how to handle this." Reizo beamed. "Remember: get as much out of him as you can. We don't know whether or not he's dangerous yet so be careful."

The young commander gave a nod of affirmation before leading his team towards the door. He caught another look of disgust from Saito as he unlocked the various steel contraptions. The door was heavy when he pulled it; so heavy that it required two hands for the first heave.

It suddenly occurred to Shoryu that the room he was about to enter wasn't just another room. This was an interrogation chamber, designed to keep the most powerful of rogue ninja in lockdown. The walls were laced with concrete, the roof was an entire mountain and the weighted vault door couldn't be broken with even a dozen paper bombs.

With that in mind Shoryu entered, finding to his surprise not a brutish, powerful-looking ninja, but a timid boy around his age. Short and scrawny, it seemed he hadn't seen a decent meal in a while. His fair blonde hair began to go white, and skin had bleached to a shade paler than normal. Shoryu supposed it came with spending so long underground; the Leaf must've kept him in a similar cell.

As Kazuya shut the door behind them the boy looked up from behind his desk, piercing blue eyes glancing across each of them. He looked sad – defeated and innocent like an abused child going into care.

From appearances alone Shoryu wondered how the boy could possibly be considered dangerous, but he knew better than that. The three treaded with caution as they took seats opposite him.

Ayako flinched when the boy began forming hand signs, yet Shoryu remembered his sensei's words and decided to let him finish his first jutsu. Once the final sign of the ox had been formed his hands began to radiate, blue chakra forming a shroud. He touched each of them one at a time as Shoryu braced himself for his turn.

The boy's touch was amongst the strangest feelings Shoryu had ever experienced. His consciousness unlocked, slowly creaking open as a door would. The sensation hit him like a giant blast of minty air; everything felt clearer – more focused. In actuality none of his senses were enhanced, though when Shoryu came back to reality he heard the boy's voice inside his head.

Shoryu Aizawa, Kazuya Takashi, greetings, he said, looking at each of them in turn. Hearing his young, eerie voice without him moving his lips was something Shoryu knew he'd never get used to. The boy looked to Ayako and went on. Sorry, I don't know your name.

"Oh - it's Ayako," replied the girl, still flustered.

My pleasure. I'm honoured to meet you all, but I guess I should introduce myself as well. . . I'm known as Unit Three Zero Nine Six, he revealed. The boy then hesitated, as though deciding whether or not to continue . . . And I'm a clone.

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Author's Notes: Well it's finally out in the open. There were a bunch of reveals in this chapter, although I guess the biggest one was the fact that Shoryu and Kazuya are indeed related – second cousins in fact.

"But wait!" you say. "Wasn't this just a really thrown-in twist that you just made up for this chapter?" Well I'm glad you asked! I got some quotes here from previous chapters.

""Oh cut him some slack," Reizo groaned, palming his head. "I doubt he even knows what his father's surname was; what kind of name do you expect him to take if not his mother's?"" Chapter 13: Personal Conflict

"After hearing that, Shoryu wondered whether or not he should ask his mother for his father's surname." Chapter 14: Clash with Fire

This one's actually pretty funny - an observation from Ayako:

""Is it just me or are those two starting to look like each other?" she said." Chapter 15: Glacier Village

There are a few more knocking about somewhere but I couldn't be bothered sifting through the entire thing again. Mostly it's just superficial stuff, like pointing out their common traits, or the fact that one will often repeat a sentence or phrase that the other said earlier in the chapter.

And yes I know it's a little unrealistic for Shoryu to not even know his proper surname but it was plausible at least. I'm sure it's been mentioned a few times that his mother rarely talks about his father and switches off whenever Shoryu brings him up.

Think the part about Shoichi being the last dragon summoner kinda spoke for itself, so the last elephant in the room is this new clone emissary. This chapter IS called Revelations Part One, so what kind of secrets does this guy hold? Find out next time!