Chapter 31: Death and Birth of a Leader
We're here.
Shoryu's hand snapped up the moment Free spoke – a signal to those behind him to halt. Kazuya along with rest marched at a solid pace just thirty paces behind him; if the impatient samurai ruined their ambush they'd lose the only advantage they had.
As the grass thinned out into gravel Shoryu snuck ahead to get a better look. He joined the clone, and to his sudden surprise found himself on the lip of a crag, overlooking a great canyon large enough to build whole a village within. Aside from clumps of vegetation and odd rock formations here and there nothing remarkable stood out about the beige terrain: it was the perfect place for a hideout.
Free pointed, and following his finger Shoryu let his eyes wander down the treacherous slope beneath them and over to the adjacent cliff face, almost a hundred metres of open ground away. There, outside a suspiciously placed mound of odd-coloured stone, stood two sentries. Their deathly stillness and constant expressions confirmed to him that they were indeed clones, their minds taken over.
Ayako joined them at the overhang, followed closely by Hotaru.
"I say we charge them." Already the Leaf's Jonin sounded up for a fight.
No. If they have an alarm system they might trigger it before we can take them out.
"We can handle this one," said Ayako. She gave her teammate a wink. "Right Shoryu?"
"Yeah." Shoryu nodded. Slipping his hand into his belt, the boy retrieved one of his prized windmill shuriken. He tapped the edge to test its sharpness and spun it around his finger as Ayako shaded a mass of blue between her palms. "On three."
"One," said Ayako, letting the colour solidify.
"Two." Shoryu pitched back his throwing arm.
"Three!" A clap followed a whoosh of rushing metal for a synchronised attack, comprised only of a giant spinning star and a cobalt javelin of compressed chakra. Side by side the two attacks streamed into the canyon, crossing free air in a matter of seconds to hit their targets square between the eyes.
Blood smeared the orange cliff-face, and for a moment the second clone was left impaled to the wall by the solid blue spear impaling his skull. Both exploded in a mist, leaving nothing but the twin bloodstains and Shoryu's shuriken clattering to the ground as evidence that they ever existed to begin with.
Finally Shoryu released the breath he'd been holding. Doing so helped his aim, but more than anything he'd been nervous that any moment the samurai might decide to run forward to attack. He beckoned them with a wave of his arm, and together the battalion made their way down the embankment towards the target.
Without wall-walking abilities a number of samurai slipped upon the perilous footing, yet a scorn from Bishamon or Kazuya ensured that none repeated the same mistake twice. Being out in the open and boxed in by cliffs made Shoryu begin to expect another attack, however this time it turned out to be sheer unfounded paranoia; the enemy was inside.
As they approached the odd-coloured rock Shoryu noticed something he hadn't seen at a distance. It was small, but painted to the rock's apex was the violet symbol of the Senmatsu clan crest. He pretended not to acknowledge it, and Kazuya did the same; right now their only problem was getting in. A legion of over eighty warriors remained parked outside the giant boulder, each as confused as the next.
"Alright, we'll split up into two teams," said Shoryu. "We need ten strong men on each side – one pushes and one pulls. Once we get inside get ready to fight, we've no idea how many are waiting, but our orders are to kill any who oppose us."
Samurai and ninja alike swapped glances and steeled themselves for the battle. Among themselves they began to pick out the most muscular looking fighters, although one samurai in particular had other ideas. Bishamon Takashi strode forward; his height and build ensured his walk alone captured the silent attention of everyone present.
"Why don't we just do this?" he grumbled. With one hand he drew his katana, pulled it back and then thrust it straight into the bare rock face.
With his sword trapped in stone ice began to spread out from the naked blade, encompassing the boulder like a growing spider's web until it became an iceberg. Shoryu had no time to protest as the Taisho brought up his foot, and in one powerful kick shattered their obstacle into a thousand reflective shards of frozen rock.
"Everybody charge!" he roared.
Shoryu found himself caught by such surprise that he missed joining the vanguard as each screaming soldier poured into the open hallway in a stampede. Cries of 'for the Glacier!' called out along with the fearful calls of a few scared ninja. The steel hallway turned to chaos in an instant.
Clones countless in number poured out of side-doors from the sound of the Taisho's break-in, charging with fists, blades and various ninjutsu into the human wall of fighters. Bishamon's giant arms allowed him to take out three with every swing of his katana, screaming like a madman as opposed to the collected – though equally efficient – Kazuya.
Hotaru had also managed to get a front seat to the action, as did Yuudai, making the site of impact a maelstrom of ricocheting fire and ice and water. With the metallic hall being only wide enough to fit five men side by side Shoryu found himself unable to push forward and get to them, yet the number of enemies told him this facility must've been massive. He'd get his chance soon enough.
Three Days Ago, The Village Hidden in the Cloud
About his office Reizo paced back and forth, anxiously awaiting the arrival of a certain man. The Raikage's base of operations had changed much to suit his own preferences. It had taken months of open windows to get the stench of pipe-weed and incense from the stuffy room, and even longer to wipe away any traces that some imposter had lived here for the best part of a decade.
Now paintings and plants decorated the walls to give the office a homelier feel. Thistles crept down Reizo's windowsill, pleasant looking under the new, brighter lights he'd installed. He gave one final glance over the report to confirm his suspicions, and then right on time three loud knocks banged upon the office door.
"Come in! Come in," he barked out.
When Saito Yukizawa entered the room, long jacket swaying as he walked, his son was perched over the edge of his desk, his eyes skimming over a simple roll of parchment twice over like an obsessed proof-reader.
"You wanted to see me?" Saito asked.
"Yeah, take a seat." At long last Reizo suddenly lost the sense of awkwardness that always came with giving his father orders; he didn't care anymore. He began in a low voice, "I'll get to the point: You were told to take reports from our scouts in the Land of Sound – to assess the danger of our highest priority mission."
"That's right, and I did," said the man as he nodded. Saito's pokerface was second to none; there was nothing on his expression that indicated he knew of his error, but Reizo knew better.
"You reported back that the Land of Sound was not under any current threat. I sent Shoryu and his team there under that pretence." Reizo looked up from his roll of parchment, studying the clan leader with a glare.
"That's right," Saito answered.
"Then why," demanded Reizo as he pulled out another scroll, "did I receive this message just two hours ago?" He threw the letter to his father, who in turn tugged off the rubber band and unfurled it in a hurry. He'd barely read two lines when the Raikage cut him off. "I'll summarise it for you shall I? You see that highlighted section of the map? That's where Shoryu and the others are headed, and that's also where ninja from the Land of Earth intend to enter the country and claim it for their own. Three hundred Chunin armed and ready to mop up our little strike team!"
Still hardly breaking a sweat, Saito pulled out his glasses and pushed them to his brow, as though he needed to see the proof for himself. "I'm not sure I understan-"
"-Oh I think you understand just fine." Reizo's desk toppled backwards as his eyes lit up with supercharged thunder. Documents and maps cascaded in a shower behind him, white against the blue hue of the Raikyogan markings spreading up his arms. Seeing this, Saito made a break for the exit, yet by the time his hand touched the doorknob his neck was already pressed to the wall by the butt of his son's spear, choking him to submission.
"You ignored that little detail and gave me a false report, didn't you? You knowingly sent Shoryu and all our men into a death trap!"
"Wait-wait!" pleaded Saito. "I can expl-"
"I never thought I'd see the day you sunk this low," said Reizo. "You sacrificed good fighters and a chance at ending this war just to settle a grudge match you started with a thirteen year old boy! And don't even think about playing ignorant, you knew about this – you even tried to stop me from finding out."
"I had my reasons!"
"I'm listening." Reizo's eyes flashed again, the thunderstorm within them so intense that Saito was forced to look away. Bioelectricity hummed up and down the shaft of the Raikage's spear to give Saito a torturous massage of thunder boring constantly into his neck.
"We're the weak links in this war Reizo!" he managed, sweating head to toe. "Don't you see it? We need to strike back! To make a statement! If you carry on your pacifist nonsense then our country will be the first to die!"
A simple throw from Reizo was enough to send his father flying across the room. His falling body crashed into the Raikage's desk, a mixture of splinters and thick chunks of wood littered about him. Reizo marched over, and with eyes still raging he pointed the tip of his spear to Saito's forehead.
"And what progress do you really expect we'll make?" he demanded.
"It'll show the Stone that we're not pushovers. They'll think twice before attacking the Cloud! The only thing we lose is a few Chunin; the Leaf supplied their own infantry and we recruited the samurai for ours – neither of them are of any concern to us. In fact we might be better off without them."
"Oh? So you've got a problem with Kazuya now as well?" asked Reizo. He'd never heard of this particular grudge before, although he knew they'd met; when he pictured the two of them together he couldn't exactly see them getting on like a house on fire.
"The way of the samurai is too barbaric for this civilised time. We can't trust them beside our men! They're ruthless warriors though – I'll give them that. They might even win against the Stone ninja, who knows?" As Saito's face became alive with enthusiasm Reizo noticed something he'd been blind to all this time; that the man was insane beyond any doubt - as delusional and twisted as their enemies. "Don't you see?" he went on. "I've made us take the first step towards winning this war! We've got a foot in the door!"
A spear driving its way through his shoulder silenced whatever additional prattle Saito Yukizawa might have had to say. It impaled him to the broken desk, a shower of blood and blue sparks bouncing out of the open wound. With the Daimyo Raikyogan Reizo targeted a vulnerable spot and overloaded his father's bioelectric circuit. Only another Raikyogan user could dispel the effect, though Saito's basic strain was considerably weaker.
He thrashed about in random spasms as his eyes began to water. He gripped the spear with both hands, only to find that they too were shocked with such a voltage that made him regret trying.
"The only thing you've done," said Reizo, "Is sent nearly a hundred lives as lambs to the slaughter. When I made you Jonin commander I did it out of whatever little respect I had left for you – as a kind of peace offering to the clan. I had no idea you'd betray me like this. . ."
Saito whimpered in his agony; thousands of volts continued to course around his body, using the open wound as an entrance point and his blood as the conductor. Even so, Reizo poured just enough power in to ensure he didn't pass out. Speaking would be difficult too – he only listen as his son the Eleventh Raikage continued his lecture.
"And just when I thought there was nothing more you could do to disgust me. I thought I'd seen it all, but you really are fouler than anything I can imagine."
Another shock lurched up Saito's spine when his son let go of the spear. He left it embedded there in his shoulder as the he marched over to the coat hanger and donned a long white jacket, emblazoned with the Cloud's characters at the back. Afterwards he retrieved his cone-shaped hat – his proof of being a Kage – and swiftly packed a few provisions.
"Whe- . . Where are you going?" mouthed Saito, weakly in his pain.
"After them. If I leave now I may still be able to follow their tracks and catch up."
"Fool," mumbled the clan leader, spitting out blood before he elaborated. "You'll never reach them in time."
"Maybe not." Reizo returned to his desk, and with one sudden pull jerked his spear from his father's shoulder. The man's cry was such that Reizo half-expected his bodyguards to come charging in. He finished his argument as he wiped blood from his weapon. "But I have to try anyway."
Reizo left his father in that spot; losing blood and on the verge of passing out in the broken wreck of the desk. The Kage headed to the door and pulled it to, making sure to stop before he left for a few last words.
"You'll never be in my service again – you're stripped of all titles and ranks bestowed to you by the village. If you're as tough as I remember you'll survive that wound, but if my men are dead then you won't have a home to go back to: I'll make sure you never set foot in the Cloud ever again. You should start praying now Saito – for your sake, you'd better hope I can get to them first."
Three Days Later
It's too cramped in here. Not enough room to summon Kyoh that's for sure, figured Shoryu as he ducked under a stray shuriken. His non-involvement in the battle finally passed as the battalion reached a crossroad. Forward, left and right – in every direction the steel grey corridors stretched out, a seemingly infinite number of basic doors branching from each.
As Shoryu manoeuvred his way to the front he found Kazuya and the others already waiting for him; now that the clones had ceased their attack they had time to form a strategy.
"We missed you on the field," said Hotaru. "Can't keep up?"
"I can keep up just fine, but there'll be more of them waiting up ahead. In the meantime we'd better split into three groups. I'll lead a team right, Hotaru you take the left, and Bishamon-" But the Glacier's Taisho made his own instructions. With a dozen samurai at his tail the brute lumbered forward to another small group of clones gathering further up the corridor.
"Keep doing what you're doing," Shoryu muttered after him – literally about to suggest that Bishamon take middle route.
To his surprise Kazuya chose to bank right with him rather than the Taisho, along with Ayako, Free and Jinga for good measure. Now in his rightful place at the vanguard, Shoryu let his swords prove his strength. Side by side he and Kazuya headed a force of twenty ninja down the closed corridors, hacking mercilessly through the clone opposition whenever a group came their way.
One look at Kazuya showed how eager he was; his movements that Shoryu could normally follow became a blur, the speed of his Jikogan unreal as he ploughed into wave after wave without a thought for his own wellbeing. His recklessness gave Shoryu cause for concern; he kept one eye trained on him at all times lest an attack strike him from behind.
In the end it was Shoryu who was caught off guard. A shuriken bounced off the nearest wall and carved a neat gash into his right shoulder. He found he'd been too preoccupied with tracking Kazuya to bother about covering himself, his only consolation being that the wound was shallow and hardly worth healing.
Still, Jinga gave it a quick once over to stop the bleeding once they reached the next bend. As the injury closed Shoryu cast a look to Kazuya. He never spared Shoryu the slightest glance. He kept his eyes fixed at a glare down the corridor, tapping his sword impatiently as he waited for them to set off again. Shoryu could only oblige him.
After just one more skirmish the group came to end of their path. The corridor they'd followed ended in a single door, this one heavier and grander looking than the generic ones they'd passed. Immediately Shoryu suspected resistance.
"Kazuya w-" Too late. The samurai's kick sent the door flying from its hinges as he jumped into the room. Cursing his recklessness Shoryu dived in after him, safe in the knowledge that Ayako and Free were close behind.
Little to his surprise they'd walked right into a stronghold – a laboratory of sorts occupied by more clones than any could bother to count. Shuriken and all sorts of fascinating ninjutsu hurtled towards the door as Shoryu threw himself out of the way. After rolling to a stop the Jonin positioned himself behind one of the many desks decorating the room.
Glass shattered above him as the alembics and assorted phials burst upon the desk he hid behind. Chemicals blue and red fizzed to the floor dangerously close to his leg; Shoryu had never seen their like before, though he put the thought out of his mind when a shuriken pierced through the desk just two inches beside his left eye.
As he drew a sword Shoryu whirled to face his attackers, letting fly a savage Cross Slash Jutsu that felled at least five when the near-invisible lash of wind swept across the room. A thunderbolt made him duck back into cover, although Kazuya shouting off some form of attack gave him the opportunity to pop back up and throw a shuriken. Ayako seized the chance too, leaning in from behind the door to fill the room with a blooming of red fireworks.
Shoryu!
Free's voice was the only warning Shoryu needed. He turned out of his cover a third time, and after vaulting over the table decapitated the clone making a leap for his hiding place. Unfortunately his actions only left him in the eye of the storm with Kazuya. Samurai and ninja poured in behind them as Ayako and Free continued to provide cover, although despite the support Shoryu still found himself situated between two walls of skilled fighters throwing attacks at one another - hardly his ideal position.
Kazuya didn't seem to mind however. He charged into the fray, taking no heed to the cuts he sustained as he slashed through the legion, both sides of his sword spinning like propellers. He'd stab one through the heart, then use the clone's fleeting body to barrel over and catch another through the mist.
Most frightening of all was when he dodged only the lethal side of an attack; a kunai might slash across his chest, but he didn't seem to care when it put him in the ideal place for a single killing blow. His bloodlust became so visible that Shoryu feared they'd all get dragged into the madness; the clashing of steel and screaming of men echoed for miles around the cavernous hideout – even battles not visible could still be heard. If anything this would be a test of his nerve rather than his skills.
In the midst of the bedlam Shoryu suddenly spied a single clone, fire wreathing his hands as he launched an arrow made from his chakra. Seeing the chance, the Jonin gave his second blade a lick of oil before slashing the bolt away. With a sword coated in flames the advantage became theirs.
"Kazuya, let's blind them!" he cried over.
Through deflecting various projectiles and slaughtering any who came near the samurai managed to avert his eyes to look back to Shoryu. He gave a gruff nod, and after sheathing his blade began to twist his fingers into hand signs.
"Ice Style: Frozen Wall Jutsu!"
A blockade of ice two feet thick sprang up to divide the room in two. For a moment there was serenity in the confusion; silence claimed the laboratory as ninja looked to one another in confusion. Shoryu took a few moments to take in his surroundings before letting fly again.
A single, lazy swipe of Shoryu's offhand blade let fly a blazing Cross Slash, enhanced thanks to the burning blade. His target was the glacial barrier separating the two warring sides, cracking and hissing as clones attacked it from the other side. It took only a matter of seconds for the ice to thaw out, leaving nothing but a thick quilt of blinding mist that drifted towards the enemy. Shoryu beckoned to the men behind.
"Now!" he called. "Charge now!"
As a single unit the ninja and samurai came in a stampede of blades, fists and jutsu. Shoryu could almost sense the fear of the trapped clones as countless bodies poured in through the fog, killing them before they saw the attack only to add more mist to the cloud.
Shoryu became glad of it when the dust finally settled. Only embers and passing vapours of dead clones remained, and at the epicentre of the charge Kazuya stood by himself, blood staining his armour as he breathed deeply to calm himself down. They'd resolved to conserve chakra in case any Senmatsu attacked; out of all of them, only Kazuya didn't seem to take that on board.
"What the hell is this place?" muttered Ayako. As Shoryu turned to face her he noticed she inspected one of the few remaining phials left unbroken in the attack.
"Who cares? We're getting close," said Kazuya.
"Here, let me see." Ignoring the comment, Jinga took the flask and held it up to his eye. Colours blended together within and bubbles still fizzed to the surface. "It's been made recently," he said, then pressed the opening to his nose. His instant flinch told Shoryu it didn't smell pleasant. "Phew!" he groaned. "Never smelled anything like that before."
This should be where they concocted whatever it is they were making, said Free.
"Alright, you keep hanging onto that Jinga – and get some more if you can," Shoryu ordered. "Hold the fort down here and do whatever you can for our wounded. We're pressing on a little further alone; we'll come back for reinforcements if there's trouble."
"Alone? You sure? After that?" The doctor looked stunned.
Shoryu waved towards the next door. "The bulk of their forces remained here – way more resistance than what we've encountered so far. That means they were guarding whatever they've got up ahead. We should be fine on our own."
"Ahh." Sensing that the Jonin didn't want to bring a whole legion of troops bumbling down into a potentially volatile area, Jinga nodded his head. "Roger that!"
Shoryu smiled; he could always count on the medic. "Thanks."
"Sorry." Ayako looked left to right, confused. "When you said we're pressing on you meant-"
"You, me, Kazuya and Free."
She grinned. "Thought so."
With that the foursome headed towards the next door, Free nearly slipping on the puddle of chemicals along the way. Jinga and the others watched on in fear as once again Kazuya booted it down without hesitation, although much to their surprise it led only to a downward set of stairs, leading further under the canyon into naught but gloom. The samurai headed the way down, oblivious to Jinga's 'Be careful!' shout as they disappeared into the doorway.
Down into the darkness the staircase winded. Candlelight from a few sconces never reached the floor, and Shoryu felt a stab of fear whenever they heard the ominous sound of hot wax dripping to the thin metal beneath them.
"Oh look at that, a helix staircase," chided Ayako.
"Very funny."
"Ssshh." A hiss from Kazuya silenced them both as the four continued downwards, but Shoryu still had more to say.
Keeping his voice low, the Jonin answered. "There's a chance we'll meet up with Bishamon's group further ahead – Hotaru's as well."
How can you tell? Asked Free.
"I counted the steps. We've taken two left turns already, and judging by the length of those corridors all those routes probably converge at one spot."
Ayako muttered something that sounded like 'show off' as the hollow ringing of their footsteps on stairs thickened. Another small passage welcomed them, the door at its end lit up by the crevices around its edges. A light was on inside – a rather bright one by Shoryu's reckoning. Kazuya approached the door, giving a look to his squadmates as he drew his weapon.
You don't need that, said Free. I don't sense any clones in that room.
For the first time in a while Kazuya's eyes met Shoryu's. He saw loathing and distrust behind that usually cool exterior, but Shoryu couldn't deny that he had a right to be wary. The samurai kept his blade drawn as he turned the knob.
Right away Shoryu suspected some kind of jutsu. The bright white of the room blinded him momentarily after minutes of being submerged in darkness, like he'd finally awoken after days of sleep. Once his eyes adjusted to the room waking up became the first thing he wished for, for what followed could be nothing less than a nightmare.
There, laid out like a row of sardines on each a hospital bed, were countless ninja kidnapped by the Senmatsu. Shoryu recognised his own men along with more ninja from the Land of Fire and other foreign nations. At a quick guess he counted two hundred, all of them unconscious, intravenously fed some liquid through a tube on their arms.
A gasp escaped Ayako as she clasped a hand over her mouth.
This is horrific, judged Free.
From the centre of the room hung a large, translucent bag, filled to the brim with that same bubbling substance they'd inspected just two minutes ago. Tubes from every patient connected back to this giant sack of fluid. Whatever it was, this unknown chemical was being pumped into every ninja in the room.
"Fujiko!" Oblivious to every comatose ninja Kazuya called out his wife's name the moment he saw her. He leapt over beds, scrambling over as fast as he could. She slept at the furthest corner of the room, bathed in the white light glowing above. Still and peaceful, she resembled an angel at rest, though she was as unresponsive as the others; Fujiko never opened her eyes despite all Kazuya's shouting and shaking her.
"Is she alright?" Shoryu called over.
"I-I think so." Hands shaking, the samurai hovered two fingers over her mouth. "She's breathing."
"We need to sever whatever it is they're injecting them with," said Ayako.
Kazuya nodded as he brought up his blade once again. In a single stroke he cut the plastic tube feeding fluids into her arm.
"Don't get any in your eyes or mouth," warned Shoryu. His turn to release his frustration had arrived; after witnessing for himself what the Senmatsu had done to his men the Jonin had rarely been more livid. The depths of human sadism continued to shock him every time he came across that vile family. He marched straight through the row of unconscious ninja, and after drawing swords slashed two great openings in the giant sack.
Purplish chemicals spilled to the ground frothing and spitting as Shoryu shielded his eyes from the spray. By the time it was drained the puddle came up to his ankles, meaning he had to wade to get out.
"They aren't waking up!" said Kazuya.
Give it time, the effects should wear off eventually.
"Free, do you have any idea what that liquid is?" said Ayako.
No, I'm afraid I don't. . . The young clone looked to puddle of frothing chemicals, then around each of his companions in turn. His gaze lingered on Shoryu, stood staring into space with his finger and thumb on his chin after releasing his anger. But I believe Shoryu does, he revealed.
When two eager expressions turned his way the Jonin shook his head. "It's just an idea," he said. "Look – I don't want to believe this any more than you do. But what if-"
But Shoryu's sentence never reached its finish. A long, desperate, crying wail from the next room along cut him off – the scream of a baby. As Kazuya's eyes looked down to his wife Ayako's latest observation proved what he'd suspected all along:
"Is it just me or does she look a little thinner to you?"
The baby's squawk sounded again, but Kazuya didn't need telling twice. He bounded over another set of empty beds and zipped across the room, eyes spiralling before he kicked open the neighbouring door. Thinking of a trap, Shoryu and the others followed after him.
They found the samurai still in one piece; it wasn't a trap. This was a room for supplies; first aid kits and cupboards full of painkillers were lined across the wall surrounding a sink filled with unwashed coffee mugs. A folded-up bed lay propped against the wall and a mop resided in one corner, clearly used often judging by the pristine state of the floor.
Kazuya stood in one corner of a room stooped over something. It was hard to make out at first, but after craning his neck Shoryu realised it was a cot. The samurai turned, wonder in his eyes, as he'd relinquished his sword in favour of the baby, swaddled up in blue blankets with half-lidded eyes peering up at them.
Shoryu had never seen a baby so small – he was a week old, perhaps two at a stretch. He hushed the moment Kazuya turned to inspect him and made squeals of delight. Most notable of all were the tufts of white hair sprouting up from the boy's head; that coupled with familiar eyes of a luxurious dark brown could mean only one thing.
"Definitely yours," said Shoryu. As if to agree, the baby squawked a laugh.
Fujiko must've given birth during her stay here. Free offered. I imagine the clones thought a baby unfit for whatever experiments they were conducting.
Ayako looked troubled. "So why keep him? Seems a hassle to have a baby lying around the place."
"So they could use him when he grows up," Shoryu revealed, equally disturbed by the idea. "They knew who Fujiko was – who the father of her child is. That baby has the Jikogan, and the Senmatsu consider him an asset."
"He's my son and heir. They aren't touching him ever again," affirmed Kazuya. The others nodded in agreement, yet their short burst of determination was short-lived.
A single groan sounded from the room they'd just left, pain-stricken and weary. Without thinking twice the four ran back towards the sound. All patients were still sound asleep – all save one. Another moan echoed around the ward, this one louder.
"Is that-"
"Fujiko!" Before anyone else Kazuya was by his wife's side once again. She'd awoken from her slumber at last, and so her adoring husband cradled her head in his arms as he whispered over and over. "It's alright, I'm here now. Everything's going to be okay."
Shoryu thought he'd never seen his friend display such affection; he didn't care that everyone else watching – in fact he seemed close to tears at the thought of having her back. It was a shame then, that his words fell on deaf ears. Shoryu noticed it first – she looked straight through Kazuya, eyes bloodshot and mind absent.
After a time Fujiko cried in pain once again, this time louder as she brought her nails to her temple and began to wail. Eventually even Kazuya had to admit something had gone wrong.
"Fujiko?" he asked. "What's the matter?" The samurai shook her again, getting nothing in response but a blood-curdling screech as his wife's pain reached its zenith. Her back arched up from the hospital bed. She pounded the mattress; feathers began to fly in her hysteria, and all the while she never once seemed to even notice her beloved husband.
"Snap out of it Fujiko we-"
Another scream cut him off, this one from the far side of the room, and then another followed swiftly after. More voices joined the mantra to reach a crescendo of ear-splitting screams like a legion of banshees throwing a party. One by one the patients began to wake up, all experiencing the same symptoms. Shoryu pulled up a Cloud ninja he recognised to get the same response: nothing but torturous roars and a blank, forgotten expression. He saw nothing, resigned only to his pain.
"Shoryu what the hell is happening?" cried Ayako over the choir, covering her ears.
"Cutting that thing must've woke them up!" he called over. "But I didn't expect this to happen!"
Kazuya blocked out the riot behind him as he continued to shake his wife in desparation. "FUJIKO! Look at me! We're getting you out of h-"
An explosion behind them suddenly drowned out the last portion of Kazuya's sentence. He forced himself to turn to the threat, only to find that one of the ninja had spontaneously combusted. Nothing remained but a charred corpse where life once remained. Not only that, but another waking ninja began to spit sparks at random like a broken generator.
Now that he looked, other ninja had started to act strangely too. The screaming of constant horror was only the beginning; strange spheres formed above one, glowing chakra wreathed another, several had fallen into seizures, and from one ninja a group of ominous shadows had even begun to snake about the ward.
Panicking, Kazuya turned back to his wife. The last thing he expected was an attack, but that was exactly what he received as a spear of solid ice suddenly flew out of Fujiko's skin to pierce his shoulder. Worst of all, it nearly hit the baby, now making a racket amidst the confusion.
"I was afraid of this," muttered Shoryu.
The moment he heard his captain talk Kazuya rounded on the Jonin. With his free hand the samurai grabbed Shoryu's jacket, pinning him without warning to another volatile ninja. "Speak up!" he thundered. "You'd better start making sense!"
"That chemical Kazuya – it's something they've been working on for years! It's the damn Alpha Gene! They tried to give it to all these people!"
That makes sense, offered Free. Shoren created the original to match his only own DNA. With a perfect version - the basic strain of it - he could give it to anyone he wanted.
"Meaning a whole army of superpowered clones. . ." Ayako put a hand to her head – just when they thought things couldn't get any more difficult.
I'd say these were their failed test subjects. The gene hasn't bonded properly to their bodies – they're rejecting it like it's a foreign invader.
"Free!" Shoryu whirled to the clone. "Get up to Jinga, tell him to get as many of these people to safety as they can. Knock them out if you have to!"
Understood.
Free hadn't even left the room when Kazuya decided to act. Seeing that Shoryu's idea was the only alternative he propped up Fujiko to a sitting position, and after muttering something that sounded like an apology he gave her a solid whack with the handle of his sword. She was still and silent when unconscious, but it did little to sully the myriad of screams filling the room.
With his calm persona now just about back in check the samurai handed Fujiko to Shoryu, and then the crying baby to Ayako. "Get them to safety."
"But I can't-" Ayako began to plead.
"You're his godmother aren't you? I don't want to hear about what you can't do!"
After biting her lip in indecision Ayako finally caved and headed for the door, dodging on her way a number of foreign ninjutsu exploding from the mass of unresponsive ninja.
Shoryu found himself torn between following her and staying. Kazuya was nothing if not devious; he knew Shoryu would want to fight on, but with the responsibility of Fujiko in his arms there was no way he could plough ahead into battle. Seeing no other option, the Jonin settled for asking just one question.
"What are you planning on doing all by yourself? We don't even know what's ahead!"
Kazuya turned to the next door – the final obstacle in his path. When he spoke his voice quavered with rage; hatred Shoryu thought him incapable of. "I'm going to settle this," he said.
"I'll be two minutes behind you so don't do anything stupid!" Shoryu replied.
"Don't bother." Nothing more needed to be said. Without looking back Kazuya made for the door, leaving his confused friend behind as he drew his sword and span his eyes to a Jikogan. Just as they'd expected the final door was a heavy one, brown oak furnished with maple that gave a creak when he pushed it. Wherever this led, he had no doubt that it took him to the final rooms of this facility.
Little to Kazuya's surprise another corridor greeted him. Different from the last, ivy caressed the bare stone walls of this claustrophobic tunnel. Water dripped from patches of moss that clung to the low roof, and small amounts of light shone from twisted black candles propped upon the walls.
The clones had converted nothing here; this was a simple underground cave leading only to another door. Perhaps they intended to furnish it later, or maybe the nakedness of this portion signified that clones were not permitted beyond this point. Regardless, Kazuya figured there was only one way to found out. He made his way through the puddles and opened the final door.
The sheer amount of space caught him off guard right away, for the next cavern could only be described as a barren great hall. Stalactites hung over a hundred metres above him and the walls were far enough apart to house a whole army inside. Like the hallway this place was a dark crypt – natural rock as opposed to the smooth, metallic rooms they'd crossed to get here.
Adjusting to the darkness, Kazuya caught sight of a number of figures – seven in total. Five were concealed by the shadows; silhouettes occupied the outlines of human beings, their features impossible to make out. Two, however, appeared in solid form.
The curtain of sunshine blonde hair made them both instantly recognisable: Tall, lean figures who walked with an air of grace and importance as they paced about the room. He'd fought both before – Suzume Oyama, who he'd beaten in the Chunin exams, and her mother Madoka, the same woman who'd led the assault against them. They were the only two people he'd ever seen to possess the same eyes as he did.
It sickened Kazuya when he considered he was blood-related to these demons, yet he put the thought out of his mind as he realised they hadn't yet spotted him. They strolled back and forth as they delivered some kind of a report to the remaining figures. If he was careful, he might be able to take one out without being seen – he could spare Shoryu that much caution at least.
"-Rushed down here without a clue." Madoka said. "I'll make sure none of them leave alive father. That, I can promise you."
"Promises do not concern me Madoka. I want results," said one of the shrouded men. "How did they find your location in the first place?"
"I don't know, but we'll catch whoever is responsible."
"Pray that you do, or you'll be the one taking the blame."
Father? Kazuya went over what Madoka said one more time. If that was true, then the threatening man shrouded in darkness was his grandfather Masaru – the creator of the Jikogan. The remaining figures must've been other members of the Senmatsu family, he realised, but something was off about them: Madoka and her daughter were the only ones who actually appeared to be present. Were the others merely apparitions communicating from afar? It seemed the logical conclusion.
If so, then Madoka and Suzume were the only fighters he needed to be wary of.
"W-Well who are they? And what do they want?" snapped another figure, this one a younger sounding boy.
"They wear Leaf and Cloud headbands. . . I believe they want their test subjects back," Madoka said.
"Careful Madoka." A third voice from the gang spoke up, and Kazuya looked to see a taller man, stood slumped with his hands inside his pockets like he cared nothing for their conversation. "My nephew could be with them, yours too if I recall."
"I fought them already," Madoka replied. "They're nothing to panic about."
"Really? Seems to me like if that Shoryu kid had any of my blood he could take you out without breaking a sweat. Guess he's more his father's son after all. My brother always was a weakling."
"Indeed."
Teijo. The name crept up Kazuya's spine like a cold finger. He stole the freedom from every clone created, along with the Tenth Raikage and countless other victims he'd manage to enslave. Knowing that he was merely an illusion served to frustrate him; if he was really here, just one swing of the samurai's blade could end the war.
As the Senmatsu continued their discussion Kazuya noticed something else to distract him further. In the dimly-lit recesses of the cavern it was difficult to make out, but another man lay face-down just beyond the impressions of the wretched clan.
With his resolve still concrete Kazuya inched around for a better look at the figure. He was still and unmoving, and as Kazuya got closer he saw the puddle of red spreading from the man's armour. Step by step the samurai shuffled forward; he suspected the victim's identity, yet he refused to believe it until he reached the body and flipped it over.
The man's gigantic size meant only one thing, and the trademark crimson armour decorated with the clan's sigil confirmed it. For a moment Kazuya thought he was still alive; his eyes remained open, fixed into his last look of terror – the moment when they'd slit his throat like a pig and left him to bleed out.
"Bishamon!" In blind panic Kazuya forgot all about keeping quiet. There lay his mentor, his friend and surrogate father, mercilessly slaughtered at the hands of his enemies. As if hurting his wife wasn't enough, the Senmatsu had taken away the man who'd raised him from near-birth. They turned to him at the sound of his voice, hardly surprised or threatened by his presence.
"He flew down here by himself in a frenzy," Suzume huffed. "Said he didn't fight women, so we showed him what we thought of that."
Kazuya's anger reached its peak. "YOU!" he roared, sword in hand as he whirled to the group.
As seven Senmatsu stared him down another bang interrupted the silence. Shoryu appeared, nearly tearing the door from its hinges when he burst into the cove, ready to fight now that Fujiko was safe.
"Speak of the devil," said Teijo. "Guess we'll let you handle it. Have fun Madoka! I know I would!"
In a static flash the five shadows vanished from sight, their jutsu broken to end communications. A silent agreement was all it took for the mother and daughter; Madoka turned to challenge Kazuya, with Suzume facing Shoryu. The new Taisho had other ideas.
"Shoryu!" he called, careful not to let his rage spill out upon his friend. "Get out of here! I don't need your help with this one!"
"Forgetting who's in charge here?" Shoryu folded his arms.
"Please, just leave! I have to do this alone."
"I'm not going to just leave you with these two freaks. We'll fight them together!"
"This is personal!" screamed Kazuya. He pointed the tip of his blade past both foes – straight to his oldest friend. "Interfere with this and I'll never forgive you."
Shoryu said nothing, stumped about what to do next. Kazuya could see the hesitance written all over his face – leave a friend to almost certain death, or help fight and deal with the consequences afterwards? There was no helping it; Kazuya didn't envy his predicament, but in the end the Jonin shrugged, sheathing both blades as he released a heavy sigh.
"Still insistent on fighting alone," he reflected. "Some things never change do they?"
"No, but some things change," said Kazuya. "I don't prescribe wholly to the ways of the samurai: Unlike Bishamon, I don't have any qualms against fighting women."
In what might have been the cockiest move of Shoryu's career, the boy turned his back to his opponent and strolled to the door, as though Suzume Oyama would be little more than an annoyance to him if they ever came to blows – that she was so insignificant a threat that he could handle being unarmed and blind against her.
Shoryu waved a hand as he turned to look over his shoulder, his anxiety still evident as he peered past the furious Suzume. "Win, okay? You've got a son to raise."
"You don't need to worry Shoryu," Kazuya vowed. "This won't take long at all."
.
Author's Notes: Kazuya's a daddy! . . And he's not exactly setting the best example is he? Ah well, can hardly blame him really; his adoptive parent just died and his wife's fate is up in the air. I'd be pissed too. The Senmatsu also use the a similar 'telephone jutsu' to the Akatsuki as well, just in case anyone recognised it. Dunno why the heroes never learned that technique - seems like it would come in pretty handy.
Guess the Senmatsu aren't satisfied with just having a whole family of superpowered ninja. Creating a kind of stem-cell version of the Alpha Gene is their major goal at the moment, since doing so would allow them to take down the entire world in one go. If that ever happens it's pretty much game over.
So Kazuya wants to take on Suzume and Madoka by himself (despite the fact that Madoka alone kicked the crap out of him and Shoryu just a few chapters ago) and according to Reizo there's also a whole army of Stone ninja heading their way. Things aren't looking great for our heroes at the moment. How the hell are they going to get out of this one? Tune in next time!