Dystopia Unleashed
By WhoIsThisDamnAuthor
OKAY. I've decided that I'm gonna write more consistently in the future.
This one's really taken off more compared to ARTH, at least where word count is considered.
I shall devote an hour twice a week or so, where I'll focus and get down to writing the plots rampaging through my head.
Here's hoping the committed effort pays off.
Chapter 13: Premonition
A clap of thunder, loud as all hell, shocked him back into consciousness.
The rain had been pouring for days on end, with no respite.
It gave everything a dull, monochrome hue, like a poorly shot film.
The vignette effect seemed to intensify whenever he tried to focus on something, like he had developed a sort of tunnel vision.
Goku hadn't woken up in his bed. Or anyone else's, for that matter. The Saiyan knelt on the wet grass, his entire frame soaked to the skin.
The torrent fell heavily on his back; an incessant drumroll on his already soaked gi.
He could not recall how he had gotten here. A small niggling doubt chewed away at the back of his mind.
Something felt horribly wrong about the whole scenario.
His ears caught the sound of a distant rumbling. The deep baritone, echoing through his body, was not something one heard every day.
It unsettled him; he felt like he knew what that was, but wasn't quite able to place a finger on it.
'What in the world is going on?' He wondered.
He knew one thing for sure, though. That kneeling here smack-bang in the middle of nowhere was going to achieve nothing. He had to get up; had to go towards that faint noise. All the answers lay there. He knew it to be true.
Not even waiting to check his surroundings, the Saiyan rushed through the gloom, determined to find out what abomination was causing the rumbling, so far away that he couldn't even see it.
Another flash of thunder.
He now stood next to the very thing that had set off his unease.
It was humongous. Everything about it screamed out malevolence so intensely that the Saiyan felt his primal instincts urge him to leave.
Even so, the warrior was trained to ignore such prudent warnings.
Standing beside the fire-eyed leader of the village he called home, he resolved that he would bring an end to this.
This madness had to stop. It had turned into a raving calamity, inflicted upon the faultless villagers through his own mistakes.
The Kyuubi, whatever the hell that signified, had to die.
The thought didn't sit right in his head.
'What in heaven's name is the Kyuubi? How do I know what that monstrous fox is called?'
All these questions slid off his consciousness like oil on water.
He forgot them as soon as they were asked by his confused mind.
She had to be saved.
Another one.
It was closer this time, the boom of thunder taking far less time to reach him.
He was on his back, lying on the ground in a tired daze.
Huh?
His eyes were closed. Something wet was coating his hand, soaking through his gi.
It was cold, deathly so. With a sudden chill down his spine, he realized what it was, as his probing fingers felt the new orifice torn into his torso.
Blood.
He lay there, dying of a wound which had never been there before.
What in the world happened? His frantic mind searched desperately among his memories.
He was drawing blanks. His life was fading fast. Even in the darkness, he saw the pitch blackness of oblivion approach him, ever so slowly.
The Saiyan felt someone grasp his hand, a gesture of comfort.
He was not alone. Jolting his apathetic brain into action, he willed his eyelids open.
It was her. The one person he wished most to gaze upon as he drifted away into death's cold embrace.
She looked older. Much older, in fact. He made out little crow's feet around her tear-filled eyelids. Small creases lined the sides of her mouth, present more due to stress than age. In fact, she now looked twice as old as she actually was.
The last few years had not been easy on her.
WHAT IS THIS? WHY DO I REMEMBER HER THIS WAY? Struggling so, so vainly to find a reply to his words.
She gave his near-lifeless palm a gentle squeeze. His despair grew, stemming from the fact that he could not return the same affectionate gesture.
Lifting his hand gingerly, she laid it on her stomach. Uterus, rather, as he'd so valiantly learned from the medical genius.
'Medical genius? Uterus?'
He couldn't even begin to fathom anything about the events in the last few moments. How long ago this consternation had begun, he knew not.
The scene continued, like someone had hit the unpause button.
Through her sadness, he glimpsed a hint of a smile on her pretty face. A sad, resigned smile, one filled with unresolved feelings and sheer regret.
His rough calluses made it hard to sense, but he felt it.
The faint, rapid heartbeat of her unborn. His unborn.
Their unborn, in fact.
I HAVE A CHILD? Like an errant fly, his mind flicked away the protests of his still-rational side.
With a sputter, his failing cardiac muscles sent another wave of blood through his body. Another wave sending the fluid of life out through his wound.
The rapid flutter of the child, as it waited to enter the world, to exist, thrummed under his palm.
One life ending to make way for another. So poetic, yet his raving consciousness only despaired at the cliche.
Something was wrong. This was too deep to be a dream, and yet…
He filled his mind with one thing only. The single, heartfelt desire to be away from this madness.
'SOMEONE HELP ME.'
He needed to wake up. Now.
HELP.
HELP!
"Goku!"
He was roughly awoken. Eyes shooting open, he stared at Namikaze Minato's troubled face.
The three others circled him too, eyes worried and concerned. He quickly regained his bearings, but his subconscious still reeled from the effects of the dream. And what a freaking dream it had been, too. It felt too lucid; like he was actually experiencing every event that had happened in that crazy succession. The only thing lacking from it, in his opinion, was the element of control.
Realising that he was drenched with sweat, he drew his blanket closer, huddling inside it. They were still in the Village of the Snow, and hypothermia was a very bad way to die.
"Wait. I'll get you something warm to drink." Rin got up and left in a hurry, yelling for the innkeeper.
Goku drew a shuddering breath that had nothing to do with the cold. His bandaged right arm gave him very little freedom of movement.
"What exactly happened? Tell me." Minato looked into the Saiyan's eyes, calming him down. Goku hesitantly nodded. This was a relatively safe space. He told them a condensed version of the debacle, leaving out the parts that dealt with the pregnancy. Even he knew what discretion was. That fact he would take with him to his grave. Probably not even tell the lady in the dream, unless she happened to ask directly about it.
At the mention of the Kyuubi, Minato stiffened visibly, and his lips tightened. Goku finished his tale, drawing a deep breath. Somehow, that felt more like a premonition; a harbinger of things to come. His blonde-haired sensei seemed to know something. He was going to decipher this, and get it over with.
Minato scratched his head. The information was extremely vague, though. For the moment, he decided to do nothing, letting events run their course. What do I know? I just happened to find this kid in the forest anyway, so I shouldn't be surprised if he has a few weird characteristics, I guess...
Furthermore, it may just be some sort of trauma-induced hallucination, so let's not put all our eggs in the premonition basket. He said this out loud to the Saiyan as well, and he looked a lot more calm after hearing it. Maybe he just needed someone to tell him that it was insignificant, at least where the present scenario was concerned.
"Now that all of us are up, incidentally," Kakashi spoke up, clearly trying to shift the subject to something they could all talk about, "Let's do some training, what say?"
Minato nodded. "It would be good if all of us did some workouts in the cold. Conditioning in all weather patterns is important for a shinobi after all..."
"Breakfast's ready!" Rin poked her head through the doorway for an instant, before disappearing again.
Throwing away their futons, the team all got up excitedly, for showing off one's OP-ness was a great incentive to get the hell out of bed. Plus, smells of an absolutely delicious breakfast were drifting in from the kitchen next door, and they all were very ravenous. With a strict look at Goku to manage his godforsaken appetite, Minato led the four out of the room.
Let's get this over with, and get back to good old Konoha in the afternoon.
I'm sick of this stuff already.
Breakfast completed, the group went out, bags and all, to find a suitable training spot.
Goku was still feeling a little tired, but his shoulder seemed much better now, compared to yesterday. Perhaps it had been a fit caused by the injury, he mused, attention away from the argument spawning between the now-Sharingan-empowered Obito and the jealous yet dismissive Kakashi. Rin was playing the unfortunate moderator's role again, and her annoyance at these juvenile spats was clearly showing on her face.
"There!" Goku lifted his head, looking at Minato. He was pointing to a rough spot of snow, perfectly sized for a little light sparring. Not that I can, anyway, Goku felt more depressed now. Not only had he not eaten as much as he wanted (clearly impossible in a foreign land, as Kakashi had put it) but now another thing that he loved had been taken away from him.
Obito searched the area for hostiles with his newfound Sharingan, while Kakashi warmed up, clearly wanting to go first. Minato came up to Goku and Rin, a separate training prepared for the two of them.
"Rin," he started, "I think a little strength training is due, given that you're the weakest in the team, physically," she nodded. Girls really weren't built that way, and the scrawny brunette was no exception. Goku's mind wandered off again as his Jonin-sensei began laying out a routine for her, choosing to reminisce instead. Long-lost memories rose to the surface for fleeting seconds, to be replaced by new ones.
Chi-Chi... Please forgive me, my love. He felt a great sadness envelop him, almost like the events in the dream, nay, premonition had actually happened. He had, for not even a second, contemplated having another child of his own. The very idea seemed so adult; so unlike the juvenile thoughts usually coursing through his mind. Now that he had been shown a glimpse of that wonderful feeling again, it was the only thing he could think about.
Fatherhood had been a constant struggle for the Saiyan, because a fighting machine built for efficiency and lethality did not understand the fragility of something as small and tiny as a child. Chi-Chi had to remind him constantly to take it easy, to not throw Gohan so far up in the sky, to not be so rough with him, as if he were a ragdoll to be tossed around like salad. The moments of sheer fear he'd felt when he had lost control of the stroller, sending his son on a roller-coaster along the meadows of East District 439, that precious feeling of relief when he reached the demolished baby vehicle to find Gohan mysteriously unhurt, they all came back to haunt him, settling down his mood even more.
It was extremely fitting though, that a dream about his distant future evoked his memories of his distant past, making him remember what he had lost all those decades, nay, centuries ago. But he had had his fill of reminiscing, and generally dreaming, for a long time to come. Today, he trained. As much as his shoulder would allow.
Minato passed over to him, as Rin took a few steps to his right. She began stretching, and the two competing, still-healthy Genins began an immediate, testosterone-fuelled contest to get her attention. Goku sighed audibly, matching the blonde Jonin's exasperated reaction. They were not wrong in their judgement. Kakashi and Obito's obvious and clumsy attempts to hit on their female teammate wasn't news in any way.
"As for you," Minato turned to the Saiyan, "start with a few one-armed push-ups. I don't want you to rip open that wound of yours. We'll follow that up with a little chakra control exercises." Goku nodded, eagerly dropping down onto his uninjured arm, moving up and down slowly and rhythmically. He felt a little drained from before, but he still managed a hundred in under three minutes. The cold snow underneath his chest made it a little too cold when he got down near the ground, and he used the discomfort as an added incentive to rise back up.
Minato motioned for him to stop, and he rose to his feet, not even having worked up a sweat yet. Injury or not, there was no doubting his extreme physical conditioning was still in place. The Jonin made a sudden flurry of seals, and plucked a kunai from his pack. Deftly chucking it, he concentrated. Goku's eyes widened. He could sense the chakra take form, and then subtly change, as if the very substance it was made of was undergoing a transformation. It felt as though the motion of the energy replicated something he'd seen, nay, feltbefore.
It reminded him of the way a fresh summer breeze felt as it brushed against his face. Reminded him of the long walks he took with Chi-Chi in the meadows amidst the foothills where they lived. The signature, as Goku chose to call it in his head, was easy to guess.
It's wind.
Minato had finished his chakra nature transformation. Pointing two fingers right at the kunai, he released a flow of chakra that sped out, deflecting the path of the blade, making it crash three trees away from its original destination. Goku looked on, impressed. Minato's hints were clear. He was to learn chakra nature transformation today. Taking a breath, the blonde Jonin turned to his student. Taking out a paper from somewhere inside his multitude of pockets, he handed it to Goku.
"This is a special piece of paper that checks the nature of your chakra," Minato explained. "Basically, it'll let us know what nature will come naturally to you, and will hence be the easiest to mold, so we can start with that. If you've gone through the handbook, you will know what types of chakra there are. Simply channel a little chakra into the paper, and we'll know."
Goku took the piece, holding it between his fingers, and released a little chakra into it. The paper suddenly caught fire, and Goku dropped it to the ground, teeth clamping down on his lips to bite back a loud expletive. Minato looked on, with no surprise in his eyes. Perhaps that was what the reaction of the paper was. Goku saw the Jonin mouth the word firesoundlessly.
That's what I'd guessed.
"Hmm," Minato began, composing his words as he spoke. There was a specific way to address the intricacies of someone trying to learn nature transformation for the first time, and fire was the trickiest of all. Given Goku's propensity to learn at the speed of light, however, Minato wasn't all that worried.
"Let's begin with trying to get your chakra to start resembling your natural affini-"
MOTHER ALMIGHTY.
A small, condensed flame was already levitating over Goku's palm. Kakashi and Obito had stopped their bickering, and were looking on, eyes popping. Minato simply looked on, too mindfucked for words. The thirteen-year-old Saiyan had done something that needed months of practice in a freaking minute. He had on an expression of false modesty so obvious that it made Minato want to go over and slap him.
"Like this?" he asked, the smile on his face belying the very question his mouth had spoken.
Kakashi didn't hesitate like his sensei. Going over to the smug Saiyan, he slapped him hard across the face with great ferocity. Goku was thrown sideways, and he barely managed to avoid landing on his injured shoulder by contorting sideways and driving his other palm into the snow to brace his impact.
"ARE YOU INSANE?" he yelled out at the gray-haired prodigy, who had already produced a series of sparking showers of lightning chakra on his palm. "I could have injured my shoulder beyond repair!"
"Kakashi-kun," Rin admonished the sullen teen with a very stern glare that made him avert his eyes. "That was uncalled for and dangerous as all hell. So, you apologise to Son-kunthis instant. Get it?" She turned to Obito, who had prepared a Katon; Goukyaku of his own, and was spraying it all over the snow-covered ground.
"Obito, shut that faltering excuse for a Fire element move. We all know you have swagger because of your Sharingan. There's no need to act this freaking insecure," she showed the Uchiha no mercy. He stopped breathing fire, and hung his head in shame.
"Minato-sensei?" Rin wasn't done, apparently. "Care to pitch in? Aren't you supposed to discipline these two losers?"
The jonin raised his head. "Ah, yes," he said distractedly. "Don't do this again, Kakashi. Get it? You too, Obito..."
It was clear that the eighteen-year-old had something on his mind.
That's some power he's got there...
Minato just couldn't get the image out of his head.
The party had given up on their training after that crazy debacle, and were heading back to the village with their spirits all damped. Kakashi walked a distance ahead of the rest, frowning and pouting away like a little child. Obito seemed too abashed to utter a word, continually giving Rin withering looks when he thought she wasn't looking. Rin was staring at their jonin-sensei with genuine concern in her eyes, and Goku was merely trudging on with his head down, clamping his teeth to try and bite down on the pain.
It had gotten significantly warmer as they trekked on the path back to Konoha, and the cut had begun to throb continuously now. The bandage needed to be changed; he could not deal with an infection festering over there now. And yet, Minato stayed aloof and preoccupied, thinking about what he'd seen back then.
The smallish flame his protege had created had not been extinguished when Kakashi had slapped him to the ground. Goku had used that palm as something to break his fall. A flame of that size would have melted the snow around his hand a little, creating a small pool of water before it fizzled out into nothing. And yet, Minato had seen not only a much larger area of the sheet of white melted in a circle around the kid's hand, he had also noticed that the ground beneath had gotten a little scorched.
The fire that Goku had created could not be an ordinary flame. No Katon no jutsu that Minato had seen in his life ever had that intensity concentrated into that small a space. It was almost as destructive as his...
RASENGAN.
Don't tell me...
He exited his reverie, and suddenly turned to face his team. The three behind him stopped; Kakashi continued walking on nonchalantly as he sulked. He went back and placed his hand on Goku's uninjured shoulder.
"Tell me one thing," he started. The Saiyan's eyes had a touch of confusion in them. "How exactly did you create that fireball?"
Goku smirked. This was time for him to show off a little. "I merely thought about fire, and how I could apply that element to a ball of chakra. I merely created a Rasengan, and tried to make it...fiery, I guess?"
There's my answer. Minato could finally relax, now that that was out of his mind. Damn, that was a tough one. It would have left me sleepless for days had it not clicked this early. I need to give my intellect a little more credit. And I need to give this kid a LOT more freaking credit. What he pulled off wasn't exactly simple.
"You do know the effects of recklessly transforming your chakra, right? But of course you don't. Shut up." he said with a touch of finality in his voice. The Saiyan, who was about to protest, abruptly clamped his mouth. He knew better than to argue when Minato took that tone with anyone. Even his devil of a girlfriend couldn't continue on with her hateful ranting when he chose to use it on her. It was a superpower he reserved for special occasions only; Goku knew he was talking about something absolutely essential.
"You could, in your excitement, transform your chakra before it even exits your tenketsu. Now imagine what it would be like to suddenly combust and die. Yeah. That's what will happen if you don't learn how to selectively transform only the chakra you have collected outside your body." Minato seemed a little out of breath. Perhaps he had spoken with too much enthusiasm. Goku smiled again at his sensei's earnestness.
"Okay, Minato," he started, and before the Jonin could muster up the volume necessary to yell at him again, Goku had produced yet another Katon;Rasengan on his palm, intuitively keeping the two flows of fire and intrinsic chakra separate. Obito was ogling at the Saiyan with wide, Sharingan-enabled eyes.
"How, in God's name, are you doing this?" he asked, with a stymied expression on his face, and more than a hint of envy. Suddenly the Uchiha wasn't the center of attention any more. Somehow, without even putting in any effort, the Saiyan had managed to take another huge leap forward, to hell with the consequences. That was more than a little annoying to the other three in his team. Rin had spent an entire month and a half just to get her chakra to get a hint of Suiton in it. Obito's was an Academy record, with the Uchiha beating former class retard Fujinawa Semoponume by a whole month, taking over a year to get the trick.
Kakashi's week and a half was the exact opposite kind of record, one Goku had shattered, perhaps permanently. That feat wasn't the most off-putting thing about the Saiyan anyway. Minato and the others were still sort of used to the astonishing speed with which Goku improved. It was the 'I'm-better-than-you-suck-it' smirk plastered on his face that felt out of place. Goku had been humble to a fault uptil now. Although the other three Genin were being driven crazy by it, Minato suspected that it was merely what it was. An innocent smile; not a fake, attention-seeking tool.
"If you weren't that badly injured, Son-kun," Rin had invoked her inner Kushina, replicating the bloodcurdling calm voice, and the spiteful, ball-shrivelling face the Uzumaki was famous for. Leaving the sentence unfinished, she turned away without even so much as a haughty sniff. Minato cast a glance at the poor Saiyan, who had been nearly reduced to tears. Recalling every concentration camp punishment the redhead had made him undergo for the minutest of errors during her training regimes was not a pleasant experience.
Goku extinguished the flames, hanging his head down. The party continued on, after demolishing the only member who hadn't been irritated or downcast.
Poor kid. Minato sympathised with his predicament.
They were barely past the halfway mark when the Jonin called for a halt. The saffron tones of sundown were upon them far earlier than they expected. Their fatigue, coupled with extreme disinterest had made them slow their pace significantly. Plus, Goku's wound needed constant re-dressing, and it wasn't getting any easier for him to bear with the pain and the weight of the backpack he had so stubbornly refused to hand over to anyone else. Very infrequently, when he thought no one was looking, he'd allow his face to contort and let out the pain he was in.
Rolling out their camping gear, they pitched their tents along the side of the road. While Kakashi scoured the surroundings for firewood, Minato and Rin divided the rations they had in their backpacks. Obito lay inside his tent, listless. A sharp knife lay in his right hand, which he was using as a mirror. Keeping it in front of his face, he activated his Sharingan,then turned it off. Somehow, looking into the Dojutsu-wielding eyes, peering into the deep crimson and black always instilled a sense of peace in the Uchiha.
He had always been a sheltered child. Ever since he was old enough to wrap his fingers around the hilt of a kunai, the elders of the clan had taken up the responsibility of teaching him and a group of other children the intricacies of ninjutsu, the subtleties of the craft, and, most importantly, the special skills only those carrying the blood of the Uchiha could perform. This kind of preferential mentorship had placed a certain complacency in the then six-year-old, who took much less effort than his contemporaries to improve himself, yet was blessed with a meteoric learning pace that had begun to impress his senseis even before his seventh birthday.
And yet, for all that had been worth, a complete stranger had come and overtaken him in ability and degree of skill. The gray-haired dick, Hatake Kakashi had dented his self-respect by simply refusing to acknowledge Obito's skill, choosing instead to publicly humiliate him with demonstrations of his prodigal intellect and deep-seated desire to learn that bested even the Uchiha's natural talent.
As a matter of course, his confidence, along with his performance and intent to learn, had dropped. Gradually, the once-awesome kid began skipping lectures and playing truant from practice sessions with a reckless abandon that had never been seen in him before, only appearing in enough evaluatives that would allow him to pass and move on. Their Chuuninclass teacher openly ridiculed him for being stupid and stubborn, and he lost the respect of his fellow classmates.
The clan elders too, began to favour younger, less able candidates over him for their special lessons. Obito began regressing into a shell, pulling away from genuine human connections, playing stupid simply to amuse his peers. It was a dreadful sight to see such special talent go to waste, but what could be done? Obito had created a vicious circle in his mind, and was very content with simply fading away into oblivion.
However, the formation of the Genin team had changed things. The one person he admired most in the world was placed in the same three-man cell as him, as was his nemesis. Kakashi's disapproving stares and Rin's gentle words of encouragement spurred him on, pushing him to try his hand at living up to his potential again. And for the last month, he had done exactly that. Competing continuously with Kakashi for bragging rights, always going the extra mile to please Rin-chan, telling off Goku for being such an idiot, Obito had finally come back from the brink of non-existence.
This mission had initially turned out to be the climax of his efforts. In that battle against the rabid wolf-thingies, he had activated his Sharingan solo, without any help or spoonfeeding from his clanmates. He had seen the surge of power and control he had over any tactical scenario with the Kekkei Genkai in place. For a fleeting moment, he had been in the limelight. He had had the edge, at least when it came to the Genin team he was in.
Barely fifteen hours after finally clawing his way to some attention, it had been forcefully taken away from him, albeit unknowingly. Goku had simply done what anyone else in his position would have. His success was a testament to his talent, and his talent only, though. And it was precisely because of that that the Uchiha's attempts at calling it a fluke were brushed away even by his own subconscious.
And so, he'd been trying to figure out the trick to it. Ever since his teammate had done the impossible, he'd been observing the chakra flow inside Goku's body at random times, in an attempt to check for differences between his own body and Goku's. He'd found nothing, though; the exact same chakra system made up the dude's body as was inside his own. Reaching the conclusion that his very chakra itself must be fundamentally different from the others, he waited until Minato gave the pretentious douche another chance to show off.
And he'd gotten that chance all right. In the middle of the freaking road, nonetheless. He'd simply ignored the Jonin's warning that playing around with the nature transformation of so much chakra all at once could lead to serious consequences. And Obito had observed. He'd observed the shit outta that flame Rasengan or whatever the fuck it was. Nothing.
He had been seriously fuming for a long while after that. His chakra was simply fire chakra. That was about it. It had no peculiar traits, nor had it the ability to mould on its own, as had been his main suspicion. He had hammered in the wooden stakes with such ferocity that the wood had split. He'd had to go fetch another from quite the distance, all alone in that frame of mind. Making sure that he defaced every tree he passed, he had returned slightly calmer than before.
Even then, when he saw that infernal poser light their campfire with yet another blatant violation of Minato-sensei's rules, the frustration had returned like a hammer on an anvil, sending out sparks through his veins. Zipping his tent all the way up, he decided to channel the rage into something constructive. The Uchiha can was widely known for their Katonaffinity as well; they grasped those jutsus like they were trivial, shaming even the most trained of experts. Perhaps he could do the same with Goku's flame Rasengan.
Sitting cross-legged in the center of his tent, he curled his palm, focusing on the chakra running inside his body. Activating his Sharingan, he quickly began the procedure for the technique, keeping his new nemesis' smug face in his mind.
Fuck you, Goku.
I'll learn this by tomorrow and show Rin-chan that I'm better than you.
His eyes shone in the soft glow of his vermilion chakra.
You'll see, you pretentious loser.
The purple shades of twilight had passed, giving way to the moonlight night. Hushed mutters and curses could be heard from two of the five tents in the clearing. Kakashi had also decided to get off his ass and start training, it seemed.
Goku sat outside his tent, breathing in the cool night air, gazing at the moon with a lackluster gaze. Occasionally, he would let slip a huge yawn; the day had been very exhausting, especially for him. He simply let the pale light fall on his face, remembering all those times this had been a bad thing.
He recalled the intense bloodlust that used to fill his every pore. Recalled losing his mind to it within the span of a second, and then waking up stark naked, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. He'd been extremely happy when Master Roshi had told him the reason why his tail had been cut off, and happier when the Supreme Kai had told him it was necessary to gather the strength to beat Baby.
It was a part of him, and he felt rather incomplete without it. It had carried that one risk; a testament to his lineage. Now, for some unfathomable reason, even that little fault had been eliminated. He remembered looking up at the moon, carrying the fear that he might just transform, and nothing had happened. Somehow, after attaining control over his Ozharu form to reach the pinnacle of Saiyan strength, he'd gained the ability to transform at will. But the desire still remained within, like a distant, lilting call of something sweet and ever so attainable.
Now there was nothing. Not even a trace remained of that killing instinct; he'd been declawed by the dragon in more ways than one. He would probably figure those out as time passed, anyway.
There's nothing to be flustered about. I'll get over it.
He gazed at the cratered surface in the sky a second longer before returning to his tent. Lying down on his good shoulder, he ignored the stabs of discomfort emanating from his entire forearm. The pain had spread a little, and had changed from a throbbing, stabbing sensation to a dull, constant ache. Somehow, that made it so much worse than before. He closed his eyes, and tried to catch a little sleep. Minato would make them pack up and start moving at the break of dawn; he was sure of it.
But closing his eyes meant leaving himself helpless against sleep. Helpless against a recurrence of the premonition he had had the night before. After a day of contemplation, he'd finally convinced himself that it had, in fact, meant something, and that it was something to be taken very seriously.
The thirteen-year old lay there, simply thinking about the implications of what he'd witnessed. He had been fighting some sort of ginormous fox that, for some freaking reason, had nine tails. The scene after that showed him to be gravely injured. It had felt as though the Kyuu-thingy had gotten a swipe at him, and a good enough swipe to leave him at death's door. Also, while he lay there, his life slowly seeping out of him, Mikoto had arrived, carrying in her womb a child he'd assumed to be his own?
Oh no. No. No. NO.
That last thought sent him into shudders. Sure, he currently felt what could, in a loose sense, be called affection for her, but who knew what the future held? Minato had mentioned in passing that the Uchiha clan were very strict about such stuff. Goku had never, even on the best of days, intended to do anything of that sort with her. It simply was so out of his thought patterns that it somehow felt like an act he would do when he was not in his senses. Giving one last shiver, he acclimated himself to the idea that there was something of that sort that was going to happen in the future.
Just thinking about it, in the different perspective of fate, made him want to scream with joy. Now that he was assuming that it was inevitable, he didn't have to worry about how to approach it. Not that he'd ever thought about it before last night, anyway.
The calming effect of succumbing to inevitability put him to a deep sleep faster than any sedative could. His breathing slowed, and his chest began rising and falling rhythmically. His last conscious thought was one of hope. Hope that he would simply be awoken by Minato at dawn, without any damn interruptions.
Please. I beg of you, he called out to the dragon.
Just let me sleep.
The loud sound of the nearby waterfall brought him back from his reverie.
There they stood, the two of them, on the fated ground of the ancestors. Ancestor of one of them, to be precise.
He looked into the black, power-crazed eyes of his opponent. The metal protector on his forehead gleamed in the sunlight. He remembered tying that very protector on his head, determined to change his fate. For avenging something that was his own fault was a rather unfair waste of time.
"I've got nothing to say to you, you bastard!"
His sharp tongue had not been culled, it seemed. It was yet another thing he had failed to do.
Goku felt his anger well up, rising in intensity with every second this fool refused to listen to reason. Anger at his miserable effort at reconciliation. Anger at the consequences of his own actions.
Her image flashed in front of his eyes. Her pure, smiling face, ever so unaware of what had transpired.
Clearing his vision with a shake of his head, he saw her face morph into the twisted, insane face of the teenager standing on the other side of the waterfall. Oh, that was not something that could be tolerated. He wouldn't allow anyone to tarnish her memory. Not even him.
He decided to let his feelings rule his actions, just this once. Decided to show his student the folly of his misbegotten ways.
A flash of lightning struck out of the blue. His student, once in a hurry to leave, was now rooted to the spot, eyes popping as he watched the spectacle. A breathless gasp escaped his open mouth as he saw the black hair begin to rise. His opponent couldn't dare to blink; it could all end in that split second.
The dark, soulful eyes were replaced with a stunning shade of blue-green that sparkled on its own. The hair, now having risen to the currents of the chakra-like substance, had a shade of gold that emanated a warm aura.
The subtle ripples of sheer strength that Goku sent out caused the entire valley to resonate in tandem with the Saiyan.
"Now, you shall learn."
An undertone of sheer power laced his every syllable. The statue of Uchiha Madara under his student's feet had begun to crumble.
Goku relished the fear in his eyes. Savoured every nervous twitch of his muscles.
"You will learn the true meaning of power."
Goku was rudely awoken by the blonde Jonin right at the crack of dawn. Gasping for air, he opened his eyes. That last part had been very intriguing. Despite it being a dream, he'd enjoyed the feeling of transformation so much, he hadn't realised that his face had gone blue from holding his breath out of sheer excitement.
"You alright?" Minato's voice held a little less concern than the previous night, but it was still pretty evident that he had seen Goku's condition before he had woken him up by grabbing his face and pulling his cheeks hard enough to cause bruising.
Goku nodded silently, still breathing heavily. That particular premonition hadn't been that bad, but he still wondered who the kid was. His student? Somehow, after the last one, the Saiyan had doubted that he would ever be old enough to train a Genin team of his own. But surprise surprise, there he was, teaching someone he assumed as a wilful dissenter the'meaning of power'. He berated his subconscious for that extremely cliche ending line.
His shoulder seemed a little better, and he was able to exit and pack up his tent on his own while his sensei woke the other two still sleeping. Rin-chan gave him a sleepy nod of the head. It was clear that she hadn't slept well, or at all. Kakashi and Obito could get very loud while they were training, usually spouting battle cries and trash talk which only got louder with time.
There was a pot of tea bubbling on a fresh fire. Minato had awoken a good hour before them, it would seem. Goku was impressed. The Jonin had some crazy endurance.
That's what it takes to get up the ladder of responsibility, huh?
Goku poured two cups out of the frothing liquid, and passed one over to the sleepy girl. Again, she nodded her thanks, not saying a word. She looked like she was sulking about something. Maybe not the right time to strike up some friendly conversation.
The peaceful silence was suddenly broken with a loud slap from inside Obito's tent, followed by the tearful thirteen-year old emerging from the tent, holding his left cheek gingerly. At the sight of Goku, however, he hastily took his hand away from his red face, and put it in his pocket, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.
Who're you trying to kid, nigga? The Saiyan motioned towards the teapot. Obito went over and poured himself a cup. Taking a sip, he made a very obvious show of it, sipping as visibly and audibly as he could.
"Hmm," he wrinkled his eyebrows, as if dissatisfied with the tea. "It's a little too cold, dont'cha think?"
Goku and Rin shared a very disgusted look. Just tell us you learned the Katon;Rasengan already. We know you've been desperately trying to copy it since yesterday.
With a sudden flourish, he produced a perfect replica of Goku's technique, hovering an inch above his palm. His Sharingan reflected the red glow, appearing as bright as burning coals. The Saiyan and the Nohara shared a perfunctory, insincere round of applause. Obito, ever unaware of sarcasm, grinned from ear to ear, casting dirty looks at Goku every few seconds.
SLAP!
The three turned to Kakashi's tent, from where the gray-haired teen was approaching with the same teary eyes and supporting hand. Seeing Rin, he quickly repeated the exact maneuver Obito had performed. Rin rolled her eyes. We know what happened. Stop trying to act all macho, Kakashi-kun. Although, I wouldn't be wrong if I said that the redness on his cheek looked kinda cool, would I?
Their exasperated sensei came up to them. The sun had begun to rise, showing just a glimmer over the horizon. Without saying anything, he kept glancing at the sun, and their unfinished pack up, until they finally got the message. In the span of ten minutes, the party had already started towards the village, maintaining a steady, brisk pace.
I wouldn't be surprised if these kids break my record, Minato mused, referring to his becoming a Jonin at the age of seventeen. The rate of personal growth they are showing is insane, and their rivalries only serve to speed up the process.
Here's hoping you achieve whatever you've set out to do.
The Hidden Village of Konoha, unaware of the antics of their only five-man team, continued on as usual. People showed up to work, the other Genins completed their fixed quota of D-Rank missions, and a new batch of students were getting enrolled in the Academy.
Tsunade sat at her window, sipping warm sake from her saucer. It was a chilly day, and the cold called for a little warm booze to help things along.
"What have you been up to, my dear friend?"
Annoyance flashed across her pretty doll-like face for an instant.
"Nothing, my not-so-dear acquaintance," she replied to Jiraiya's ugly mug. He merely smiled the same lecherous smile, and took a sip from his own saucer.
"Ah, don't be so moody, Tsunade," he tried to placate her with smooth talk. Judging from the expression on her face, it wasn't working.
Fuck off and leave me alone, you damn pervert.
"I've found something interesting to do, though." annoyed as she was by the sage's very existence, she couldn't help but tell him.
He drew closer. She cringed at the proximity, but kept her face straight. She knew that the dude wasn't capable of carrying it out, given his drinking and fooling around.
"What did you find?" it seemed like Jiraiya already knew the answer to that one. Despite that, the question didn't feel like a rhetoric. Therefore, she answered.
"A protege," she replied.
The unlucky 13 has finally come out.
I'll have to write number fourteen that much faster to make up for the bad luck I'm gonna get because of this one.
Fuck the site's counter, the prologue doesn't count as a chapter.
Leave your reviews, if you all would be so kind.
Then leave. Actually.
There's literally nothing more to see here.
Peace.