The world dripped. A leaf sagged heavier in rainwater, before emptying onto the crown of a ring below.
"Sasori's intel was accurate. The Kazekage had been assassinated."
It was a voice filtered through layers of static, unnatural to the ear and dead as stone.
"An invasion of Konohagakure is under way." That was the final message, before the communication line thinned, then snapped.
Kisame lifted his finger before the next droplet of rain could land, tilting his sugegasa at an angle that allowed for a glimpse of his partner.
"It's your lucky day, Itachi-san. Orochimaru against Konoha, two of your greatest nuisances now set to destroy one another." The missing-nin grinned, baring rows of inhuman teeth. "Who do you think will succeed?"
"Neither."
"Neither?"
Above, the clouds had whitened. Sunlight finally pierced through the woodlands, breaking the road before them into fragments of light and dark.
Kisame watched his partner slid his arm down his sleeve, the cloak fluttering behind as he stepped into the jigsaw.
"Neither has the competency."
.
Down the valleys and across the river, toward the center of the country, a plateau gave way to a lattice of gardens and lakes.
"What do you wish to do with the invitation, my Lord?"
The counselor kept his head bowed, the fabric of his hoeki no hô sweeping the floor.
The Fire Daimyō pinched his lips, tapping his fan in habit. "I heard the Wind Lord showed no interest? And the travel is so long. I do not know, is it worth my time, Jiraiya?"
Jiraiya gleamed over the names on the official invitation, his expression twisted into one of amusement. "Four kunoichi," he noted, handing back the letter.
A laugh. "Yes, that's four more than we usually have, isn't it." The Fire Daimyō shook his head. "Not much entertainment, these girl fights. I take it you're not going either, then."
"Well, I-"
On an outside elm, a bird perched, black feathers in sharp contrast to the nearby flora. Jiraiya lowered his tea, watching the crow watch him. "I… believe I will."
The Fire Daimyō nearly dropped his fan, headpiece toppling as Jiraiya relatched the scroll on his back. "You will!" he exclaimed. "After all this time, you will return to Konoha?"
Jiraiya was already at the chamber's exit, both arms extended. "Four kunoichi, my Lord! How could I not give these ladies my undying support."
.
"How is this possible."
The toad summoning vanished, leaving behind only a crumpled note.
"How is it possible that half the world knows an invasion on our village is coming, but the entirety of our blasted Intelligence Division doesn't!"
Inoichi closed his eyes at the spit in his face, keeping his lips pursed and sarcasm saved for another day. Instead, he opted for a closer examination of the note. "This leak. How credible is the source?"
At the head of the table was the Hokage, flanked by his two advisors, in a seat backdropped by stone pillars and gridded oak. Unlike the luxurious fusuma abundant within the tower, these walls allowed no sound to escape, neither in nor out of the chamber.
Hiruzen ignored Inoichi's silent prayer when he said, "Enough to treat as fact."
And thus, the room fell to chaos. Inoichi could feel his migraine intensify, as voices rose in increasing frenzy, until Ibiki finally brought order with a bang against the table. "Focus!"
They were warned. Now, it was their duty to figure out what their informant knows that they did not. Who. When. How.
Anko got the answer to the first question. "Orochimaru."
It was only a partial answer. "Orochimaru has the power to destroy a small village, but not us. He will need reinforcements," Hiruzen said.
Koharu realized the answer to the second question. "He plans to attack the day of the tournament." She turned to Hiruzen, tassels in sway. "Tens of thousands will be flooding our gates then to see the final exam. We are letting our enemies right in."
"Then we cancel," Homura said.
"We cannot cancel."
All eyes fell on the corner figure. Danzō pressed firmly against his cane, unmoved.
"Danzō is right," Hiruzen sighed. "All invitations have already been sent. To retract them now will only signal weakness to the world leaders." Which may very well be what Orochimaru wanted.
No one had an answer to the third question.
It was in the silence that the Chief Commander finally reopened his eyes. "Looks like we will just have to cover all our bases then," Shikaku said. "And prepare for war."
After the meeting, Hiruzen noted the lingering figure in the room. While the wrinkles on his face betrayed his exhaustion, she stood young and undaunted, burning in vigor. "Anko."
"Hokage-sama, might I make a proposition?"
.
Karin glanced out the hospital window. The village atmosphere had changed, finally broken out of its lethargy.
Beneath the calm exterior of the civilian streets, troops mobilized in a frenzy. Information must have finally hit them, the chain of command spiraling outwards from the Kage tower.
Kabuto smiled, looking up from his book just as Karin returned to hers. Too bad they were looking in all the wrong places.
.
The gates opened. Shikamaru found himself refuge far away from the commotion, where the streets were still relatively uncrowded and quiet.
"The climbing silver, eh. Clever…"
Shikamaru was used to receiving compliments, examining the shogi board with drab interest. When a rook lifted, he eyed the spot he expected it to drop.
"... though trite."
Done, his opponent slipped his hand back into his sleeve. Shikamaru studied the move, a crease forming on his inner brow. His opponent had opted out of the capture. That was different. Shikamaru seized hold of his knight.
His opponent reacted faster than he expected. Shikamaru slid his piece in diagonal. Another click. The tile flipped. His turn again.
Shikamaru frowned. On guard now, he slipped his piece back. As expected, the opposing rook repositioned. Shikamaru sweated, a grin slowly slipping on his face. This guy was good. A less competent player would have been blindsided four turns ago.
"You been playing long?" Shikamaru asked, finalizing his next play.
"Millennias." His opponent chuckled. "You?"
"A year."
"Not bad for a year. You set up well with the knight. I reckon it's your preferred piece?"
Shikamaru watched his opponent dodge his trap again. "It is," he said, letting his knight make its jump back as well. He paused, studying the board yet still finding no discernable pattern to his opponent's strategy. "Do you have a preference too?"
"I do."
Shikamaru did not expect him to reveal his hand, but he asked anyways. "And what would that be?"
"The queen."
For the first time, Shikamaru looked up. The man sat lax, the features of his face hidden by the shadow of his sugegasa.
"There is no queen in shogi," Shikamaru tested.
"No, not anymore."
Shikamaru expected an elaboration but received none. "The queen," he repeated, before returning to layout of the board. "How does she move?"
"Like the bishop..." His opponent rose, but not before he placed down his last tile. "...combined with the rook."
Shikamaru stared at the board. In his mind, time fast forwarded, turn by turn, piece by piece, capture by capture. Pawn to E3, checkmate. Shikamaru rewinded and replayed. Lance to H4, checkmate. He changed his path again. General to G6, checkmate. His thumbs pressed against one another, millions of combinations flashing by, before he reopened his eyes.
He… lost.
"Shikamaru!" By his side stood Chōji, who eyed him with concern. "What are you doing here? The finals will be starting soon."
Shikamaru stared at the empty bench opposite of him. "I…"
"Aren't we going?" Chōji asked.
.
Thousands of spectators gathered on the stadium balconies, contaminated by fervor and fear.
Temari watched the Kazekage join the Hokage in the upper platform, before turning to their final exam proctor.
Genma bit into his senbon, doing a head count of the contestants lined up before him. "We're missing one."
"Nope, right here, sorry!"
Everyone turned to the source of squeaking, as a breathless Sakura tugged an overloaded wagon centerstage. Genma raised an eyebrow at the barrels stacked in a mountain, then the heavy duty bag strapped around her back.
She gave one last inhale, before straightening up. "I'm not disqualified, right?"
"You're just in time," Genma reassured.
At this, Sakura breathed in relief, just as the Hokage made his announcement to the audience. Amidst the cheers, Genma briefed the rules to the contestants one last time, before showing the line up chart.
"Up first is Haruno Sakura and Gaara, so everyone else exit to the waiting balcony, got it?"
Sakura exchanged a thumbs up with Lee as he filed away, then faced her opponent. She smiled, the handle of her wagon dropped from her grip.
From the spectator's balcony, Hiashi glanced aside to his daughter. "This is your second time studying these matches. I want your assessment."
Hanabi said nothing, the veins around her eyes deepening. She observed the pathways of chakra, the flows of energy within both contestants.
"The first contestant has eight times the chakra of an average nin," she noted, then paused. The second contestant had one-fourth. This match was a complete joke.
Chōji waved to Asuma, Shikamaru following behind, before they occupied the two of the three empty seats to his left. On Asuma's right sat Kurenai and Gai, both analyzing the odds.
Shikamaru paused at the arena. "What is Sakura doing there? She doesn't stand a chance against that guy, not if Ino-!" He stopped himself after seeing the change in Asuma's expression. Chōji cringed, hands frozen around his bag of potato chips, not daring to tear it open.
Asuma recomposed himself, removing his cigarette. "From the looks of things, Sakura came prepared. I am sure she will be fine. Kurenai-sensei here has even given the girl extensive training, isn't that right?"
That was not incorrect. Sakura had wanted theoretical help in a specific genjutsu technique, and Kurenai complied. How any of their lessons could be applied to an one-on-one match remained to be seen.
Kurenai bit her lips. If a genin was deemed too weak to continue, it was the responsibility of the teacher to pressure a forfeit. Anko did not. Then again, Anko was not averse to risk, and her do-or-die philosophy had a tendency to get people killed.
From the arena pit, Sakura took in the rows of spectators, the noblemen and lords from across the world. The shouts and cheers echoed in her ears, promises of wealth and glory, and she thought to herself what a dream this should be, to stand where her parents could not in a lifetime.
"... words you'd like to say before we start?"
Genma broke her out of her thoughts. Sakura eyed her opponent, who stood silent and expressionless as stone, then raised her hand. "Yeah, I do."
After a moment of silence, she bowed, hands clapped together in a beg. "I'm just a weak, pathetic girl who got here because of my teammates, they're the ones who do the fighting, not me, oh my god, why the hell am I even here, please go easy on me!"
Genma opened his mouth. Okay then. He shot Gaara a quick look to see he had nothing to contribute, so with that, he leapt back and commenced the match.
The cork popped out, a wave of sand flowing into the air. It shot forth.
Sakura held her breath, then dropped low, the straps of her backpack slipping off her shoulders, spun, and kicked the backpack east towards an awaiting figure. Gaara caught the second Sakura in his periphery, redirecting his sand, only to see the backpack phase through her body.
It was nothing more than an E-rank bunshin. He returned his focus to the first Sakura to find her gone. A diversion tactic.
"She's running away," Kurenai mumbled, watching a wave of sand follow the girl across the arena. The sand had just caught up to her ankle when-
"That speed," Gai said, intrigued.
In a blitz, Sakura disappeared.
Lee gripped the railings, as Sakura weaved through the crashes of sand with ease. "What beautiful movement!"
Hanabi narrowed her eyes, tracing the abnormality of chakra concentrated at the base of Sakura's foot, an energy pattern reminiscent of the shunshin. Impressive level of control, even by Hyūga standards. Still, her chakra was draining fast, and at this rate, she had no more than ten seconds.
Sakura did not need more than ten seconds, as her feet finally reached the wall of the arena.
Temari grasped the situation first. "Gaara, stop!"
Sakura perched at the rim of the arena wall, hands frozen mid-sign. The sand had stopped pursuing her, retreated back to its owner.
Hands shaking, Temari let out a breath, then focused on the wagon. Explosives. Those had to be explosives, and not even Gaara's sand armor would have protected him from a blast of that magnitude. Worse, the Konoha kunoichi was intentionally luring sand away to weaken his shield, meaning she had knowledge of the mechanisms behind his defenses.
Thankfully, her brother seemed to have understood, as he kept his sand guarded around his person.
Shikamaru bit his thumb. Blowing everything up could work, but not if her opponent could barricade himself from the explosion. If this was Sakura's strategy, she lost her one chance.
"Have you made your assessment?" Hiashi asked.
The speed enhancement had depleted too much chakra. What was left was not enough for a fight.
"Yes," Hanabi said. "The victor will be-"
Sakura grinned, palms sliced, blood dripping off her fingers. The bastard made a mistake of stopping his attack. A very, very bad mistake.
While all the jōnin instructors froze, Tenten could not help but smile. "She actually pulled it off."
Genma lowered his senbon, watching twin scrolls fall, parchments fluttering in the air, insignias spiralling. He did not have to see the calligraphy on the back to know what they were.
The summonings made contact with the arena ground.
Naruto straightened from his crouch, Earth scroll in his grip, while Sasuke caught the Heaven.
"Oi, miss us?"
.
The potato chip stopped before Chōji's mouth. "Can… can you do that?" he asked Asuma, who was still recovering from shock.
The sentiment echoed across the balconies, murmurs spreading from row to row. From everyone's confusion, Karin guessed this was the first time someone performed human summonings in a match. However, there was no question of the validity of her move. A shinobi was but another weapon, no different from a puppet or pet.
Karin glanced at the Suna kunoichi by her side. Temari had turned inwards in thought, her posture gone rigid. With this one move, the tables had turned against them.
Genma stuck the senbon back in his mouth. This match just got interesting.
Disquieted, Hanabi watched as kage bunshin after kage bunshin materialized until an army stood at command.
"You were saying?" Hiashi asked.
He took in his daughter's silence as a concession. Closing his eyes, he said, "You assumed chakra determined the capabilities of a shinobi, and a measure of one was a measure of the other. Now you see the mistake of such narrow thinking."
"What did you see, otou-san?" Hanabi whispered.
"A shinobi with all talent but no preparations, and a kunoichi with no talent but every preparation." He paused. "I see a very well rehearsed play."
Below, walls of sand undulated, stopping a three-sixty barrage of fists, only for an arrow to emerge from the stomach of one clone, slipping through a gap in his shield. Gaara did not blink, the arrow caught in a second sand layer. He failed to notice the paper tag wrapped around the shaft.
Sakura plugged her ears at the blast, the air masked in powders of white, before picking up her befallen backpack. She walked on, oblivious to the motions surrounding her, the exchange of attacks that had her opponent in increasing retreat. Her hand refound the handle of her wagon.
"Forgetting someone?"
Before Gaara had the chance to react, a fist had broken through the earth, breaking his chin on impact. The clone was carrying more tags around his neck. The second blast had yet to clear when another wave of arrows had pierced his shield, with force strong enough to break through to the other side, if only by a centimeter.
For Sasuke, that was enough, as he leveled his next aim.
Gaara realized the tunnel of sunlight hitting his neck. Alarmed, he glanced aside to see one of the arrows had been larger than the others, and hollow.
Sasuke released his arrow. It effortlessly slid inside the first.
Blasts rang harsh in the arena, the cracks in Gaara's armor deepening, fragments slipping off his skin. The fight drew the attention of every spectator, bewitching in its violence and blood. Only Karin noticed the peripherals, the curious placement of barrels, encircling the arena like the numbers of a clock.
Sakura sat atop one of these barrels, the wagon by her side empty. She made no attempt to join the action center stage. After all, she was just a weak, pathetic girl. Her teammates were the fighters. They were also the performers, the audience too captured by their flashy tricks to see the barrels were almost empty, the grass glossy and earth damp.
Hanabi frowned at the fluctuating surges of chakra. The match was drawing to a close, he had no more-
Karin ran toward the staircase. She needed to get out of here, the entire stadium was going to-
Temari stepped back at the angry scream. Not good. Gaara was losing control, his movements becoming erratic, he-
White blinded her vision, the aftereffects of bubbling yellow and red caught in her pupils, the world fallen to a ringing silence. By the time Temari recovered, there was nothing but black, surges of hot ash blanketing the air. Unbalanced, she forced herself up.
"Gaara!"
Temari shouted again, but found herself mute even to her own ears.
Sand released itself from its shell form. Gaara's eyes dilated, adjusting to the inversion of color, the world reduced to silhouettes of black against hot-orange.
"You think that is enough to destroy me?" He stepped across the puddles of gasoline. Flames floated on top, airy and bright, grazing his ankle as he passed.
No response. Rabid, Gaara spun around, sand whipping through the air in blind search of his assailants. "What's the matter? Hiding now?"
He laughed. "Are you afraid?"
Temari whipped out her fan, swiveling it once to clear out the immediate smoke. Shit. This was not part of the plan.
The volume of background hysteria rose as sound returned to her ears, the trampling footsteps and screams of "Fire!"
Karin slowed, turning back to see a pillar of black smoke broken through the skies, fires spreading along the balcony rooftops. The Sakura girl was never interested in a simple, clean explosion. She wanted everything to burn. Slowly. Painfully. An irreversible chemical process that left the world barren.
On top of the wall, Genma breathed through his sleeve. Haruno Sakura. Only now did he understand why the name sounded familiar, as he recalled the night a little girl followed Raidō into the interrogation office. She had been found alone, standing in the street before her burning apartment. Someone had broken inside and killed her parents, she claimed.
Sakura closed her eyes, as the hot air lifted her higher and higher. Gripping onto the straps of her parachute, she imagined herself on a swing, her legs rocking to and fro. The wind felt good against her hair.
By her side were her teammates, surveying the damage. "You think he'll come up here?" Naruto asked.
"He can try."
Gaara's breathing grew heavy.
The ground spun. In a splinter and crack, a nearby tree toppled, adding to the confusion. Something strange was happening to him. Something bad. He did not feel right. But how was that possible. He did not feel. He did not feel anything, and certainly not...
… pain.
Sakura stared into the spiraling inferno below. "He won't succeed."
Because she had walked her laps around the arena. Because she had done her research, timed the number she needed to make before even the most exhaustless of shinobi depleted of chakra. Because she understood just how little a person could do once stripped of that chakra, how the simplest of tasks become impossible.
Gaara fell, hand in an attempt to reach the heavens above, somewhere past the black where there was still sun and blue skies.
No, he would not succeed.
Instead, he would suffocate. He would suffer. He would scream, but no one would hear him. He would cry, but no one would help him. Just him, alone, as his skin blisters, his flesh melted alive by the very thing that protects him.
"Gaara!"
Their father- Temari found both the Kage seats empty. Her expression hardened, as she pushed herself through the chaos. She jumped.
Her fan flipped open, sending a spiral of wind into the ground below.
"The fūton has become a rarity in today's battlefield. That gives you an edge, Temari-sama, as your opponents are less likely to be prepared for one."
The flames cleared, only to flow back, stronger and taller than before.
"But do not forget what made the fūton obsolete in the first place."
Gritting her teeth, Temari ignored the ignition of her clothes, the scorching pain against her skin, as she weaved her fan across the air once, twice.
"Do not forget what made Konohagakure rise, and Sunagakure bow."
Third step, fourth step, as she bisected the wind in accordance to the scissor dance, the body of her fan incinerated with holes.
"Fire."
The fire refollowed the guidance of gasoline, bursting to life at the renewed source of oxygen, flames tunneling towards the user.
"Whatever you do, Temari-sama, you must not oppose fire."
Outside, Lee patted the head of a crying child. Gathered around in a crowd was the audience, still rendered speechless, shaking, watching in horror as the balconies toppled and collapsed under its own weight.
"Is that everyone?" Genma called.
No. Under the Byakugan, Hanabi caught the flaring disturbance of one last chakra source from the center of the arena, contracting, folding, shaping...
Release.
Genma toppled forth at the blast of wind. Waves of debris surged through the streets, as trees unrooted and architecture bent. Ahead, the civilians lied prone, scattered across the road.
The air finally stilled. Temari opened her eyes, her body blackened and raw. The skeletal frame of her fan dropped to the ground, as she forced her legs to move.
"Gaara."
Unlike wind, sand was strong against fire. Sand barricaded against fire. Sand could not be hurt by fire. Unlike her, Gaara was supposed to be indestructible.
Temari stopped before her hand could touch the cheek of her brother. She rose.
No, she had no more brothers.
Sakura stood on top the wall, watching Temari turn her back and leave without a word.
Blast sodium carbonate into sand, then add heat. Death was no longer an unknown, but a science.
Sakura smiled. Left in the middle of the arena was a statue, an elegant balance between the organic and the inorganic, the contortions of physiology immortalized in glass.
Death was no longer grotesque, but beautiful.