Team Aeternum: From Heaven to Hell

by TheRedGhillie

Brought together by a promise from before their time, Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara and Shino Aburame are thrown into the world to show what they are made of! Trained by Jiraiya and Yugao Uzuki, these three were brought together to keep Konoha safe, but not everything is what it appears to be. When two higher powers take an interest in the trio, the world will never be the same!

17. Erosion

Team Aeternum: From Heaven to Hell

|{Chapter 17: Erosion}|

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

"…and the sins of man will forever be remembered, never to be worn down by time – as fresh as the blood they left behind in their wake." – Passage from scripture unearthed nearly a century in the past.

[Character Descriptions]

Naruto: Dark skin tone, Eastern European accent, speaks broken English, smooth deep red-brown hair. Twin scars at each side of his chin, one large horizontal scar across his forehead. Eyes are now a shining yellow. Naruto is now wearing an unzipped, black sleeveless jacket with a body fitting white t-shirt, exposing his right arm as the left one was expertly wrapped with medical gauze down to the his fingertips, letting him move, flex and close his arm and hand with no difficulty. For his lower body, Naruto wore a tattered pair of dark green camo combat pants outfitted with multiple pockets and pouches along each pant leg, and as for his feet, a brown pair of old working boots were tightly laced on. The former blonde looked tired, bitter and distant thanks to the aura his new eyes give off due to the stressed wrinkles around them.

Shino: Dark skin tone, Eastern European accent, speaks broken English, straightened light brown hair, slightly scruffy facial hair well maintained, and shining yellow eyes. Shino is wearing a tired out black vest outfitted with used padded armor covering his chest. His arms were covered up to his wrist with a thin black jacket riddled with cuts underneath the armored vest while his lower half was composed of a pair of faded black denim pants and an exhausted pair of black work boots. Underneath the left sleeve of his jacket, he wore two wristwatches on his arm, both functioning but one had its glass cracked. One bang is free from the restraint on his hair in the form of a tattered black head wrap, letting a single band of hair hang over his right eye while the back of his hair rested on the back of his neck. The area around his eyes is covered with strained wrinkles brought upon by a youth raised in a lifetime of violence, paranoia, and grief. A thin scar travels from his right cheek to the right one, crossing the bridge of his nose.

Shikamaru: Dark skin tone, Eastern European accent, speaks broken English, his hair is now deep brown and let loose against his back, and his eyes are now a shining yellow. A clean semi-thick sheet of facial hair with a matching thin mustache now adorn his face, a long thing scar starting from above his left eyebrow runs down through it along with his left eye, eyelid, and cheek, cutting through the beard she gave him. A triad of jagged claw-like scars runs through his right cheek at an angle. Multiple scars run through his arms, the back of his hands are riddled with damaged skin. His eyes are in a constant glare of a battle tested veteran. Shikamaru is now wearing a brown leather jacket, tattered sleeves gave it an old feel to it, but was still durable. Underneath the jacket, a thin vest of green body armor could be seen covering the black mesh shirt beneath it. On his lower half, Shikamaru was wearing a worn out pair of blue denim pants, a black leather belt around his waistline, and pair of old work boots that have seen plenty of use, adorned his feet. Around his neck he wears a black bandana that could be quickly moved to cover half his face if a situation called for it, and finally, atop his head, he wears a black head rag that covered the top part of his hair, but let several bangs stick out in front while the back of his hair was loose against the back of his neck. As an aesthetic, he wore a broken wristwatch on his right hand. He looks rugged and weary.

---

Chapter Start

---

[Theme: Solus]

Emotions are curious concepts; almost entirely impossible to describe, but oh so easy to understand, is that how it is? No, no, there's a word that matches that train of thought, but what is it…? Alike? Common…? No, not that…

Relatable, that's the word. Relatable.

Emotions are oh so easy to understand because they are relatable…sometimes. But what makes emotions relatable anyway? Similar experiences? Empathy? Understanding? Wait no, that's the same as empathy… isn't it?

For something to be relatable to someone there must be common ground between said someone and whatever it is they are forming a connection to, whether it be similar experiences or common scenarios or…something. For example, subject "A" retells a story where a spider scared him/her in the night and subject "B" relates to that story with his/her own when he/she was threatened with a knife on the way home at nighttime; both of these stories take place at night, so therefore, by the explanation before this, these two stories are somewhat, if not totally, relatable.

If that was the case, wouldn't every experience be somewhat similar, then?

…

Perhaps it would be best to keep it at that, to be satisfied with such an ignorant statement that would keep this world simple and enjoyable.

Perhaps…

Perhaps it would…

But…

But, upon further thought, maybe similar experiences and the like had nothing to do with something being relatable, and instead, maybe the concept of relatability solely fell upon the emotions that took place during said events, and those emotions can be used as a bridge to find something relatable, even if the situation was different…

…maybe.

But that was such a human point of view – human, not humane – in the way that such an unlikely notion could be accepted as something feasible. As if every human's interpretation of an emotion could possibly be the same or even similar; that something purely a construct of the mind could be so universally simple that every sentient being experienced the same emotion as the rest of the world is nothing short of inconceivable. But, that was the human point of view, after all; so simple and one dimensional, lacking any real depth.

Why do humans believe that emotions have some solid unspoken definition as to what they are? Sadness is this, anger is that, fear means this and joy… and joy means that…? What a pathetic reasoning… as if the mind could be that simple, as if the mind was collectively the same for everything and everyone… That couldn't be right, could it? My world cannot be so simple, can it? Simple enough to be described by such meager words…?

No…

I refuse to believe so.

The form I detest shifted, its tails moving on their own, caressing the ground on which I was bound to; smooth pelt and tranquil sward came together.

My time being sentient has been short, about a month perhaps? But in that short amount of time I have gained just about seventeen years' worth of memories, experiences and understanding from a life I never lived all because I was curious – far too curious, I understand that now – about the world I was in. From what I gathered, I learned that the world is oh so very complex, intricate and contradictory compared to the primitive understanding of the human world I was "awoken" with. Nothing is simple, nothing is "black and white" (a term I picked up somewhere along the line) and absolutely nothing is as complicated as the human mind happens to be.

The woodland that made my sanctuary disappeared, the tails lost what little they could trace as I became shapeless and yet remained defined simultaneously when I traveled to the only other place I know. It was vast and yet so harrowingly confined, a system so horribly contradictory for itself.

Something so impossibly complicated can surely not be replicated or be shared with anything else; that is undeniable. I cannot be wrong about this.

This time I forced the tails to move, to stroke at everything and nothing, coming into contact with the darkness I was in, feeling nothing in doing so, but yet, feeling everything as well.

Illumination.

It came to life when I linked myself to this place once again, bolts of light in the amount of millions upon millions shot past this form of mine from every which direction, leaving trails of faint light behind them as they traveled to and from. This, the white light upon which partly illuminates the darkness of this infinite place was all information.

Information.

I spy a node of light approaching me and so I reach for it with an unwilling tail, and when it comes into contact with it, my form so shapeless yet so defined, stiffens at the sensation of information it carried.

It is cold.

I grasp at another passing by and I register the color white.

Snow is white.

One more and I can hear the sound of the wind, the next swallowing of saliva.

I force the tails to stretch outwards.

Touch

I can register the blink of an eye.

Touch

I feel cloth against my form.

Touch

Lips coming into contact.

Touch

The narrowing of the eyes.

Touch

Hands coming together.

Touch

Joints popping.

I let the tails come back to me.

Everywhere around me are these millions of white little nodes of light going nowhere and everywhere, some disappear but the trails of light they leave behind them stay forever, glowing faintly. There is no design to the way these nodes move around, they make knots of light trails that look like a mess up close where I am, but at a distance they look alive as they travel against the complete darkness around them, these millions upon millions of nodes of light are literally nothing against the vastness that is this place. I moved and witnessed their traveling from afar, surrounded by the darkness that they will never reach.

But… they were simply pieces of information…

I moved the tails by force once more and linked myself once again to a deeper level and watched as the nebula-like cacophony of white nodes explode outward in the darkness, almost reaching my current position in the darkness so very far away, this time blue nodes of light came into view, these too were in the millions upon millions in quantity, crossing paths with the white nodes of light. Even eyes in the state of decay like mine could clearly see the way each node reacted when it came into contact with another of a different kind, the way it split into thousands of other smaller purple nodes with their own trail of light behind them.

These blue nodes are responses to the information being taking in, and much like their white counterparts they spread outwards with seemingly no order.

I traveled further into the darkness, until the blue and white nebulas seemed like grains of rice against the darkness. I braced myself before I delved deeper, using an unwilling tail once again to connect once more. The other two tails wrapped themselves around my form immediately, securing themselves tightly.

These rotting eyes suffered a blinding light, and when my poor vision came forth once again I found myself surrounded by white, blue, purple and now red nodes of light, all crossing paths, creating smaller nodes in the process.

Emotions.

These red nodes were what bothered me the most, and I refused to interact with them as much as possible. The nodes traveled far and wide, no visible pattern in sight, randomly it appeared.

Just like the others.

I traveled as far away as I could until these dying eyes could no longer see the galaxy-like coalition of nodes before forcing the one loose tail to do the same as I did before, syncing myself even more with him.

…I was immediately blinded once again and when my sight came back I found myself once again in the center of it all, as white, blue, purple, red and now green nodes of light traveled all around my form.

Memories.

Now, the nodes were all connecting with one another by their trails of light, all leading up to the massive ever-growing amount of green nodes that traveled at a snail's pace across the darkness. No longer were they randomly strewing about, they were all connected to an extent, but they continued to expand. And when each node of differential color came into contact with one another, new nodes came to be; purple, orange, brown and so on.

All of this… Everything here is a part of the human mind – a part, mind you – that is forever growing, forever expanding. This is a part of his mind. The way this is, the way these countless nodes interact with one another has to be unique to him and him only, and it has to be. There is no way something so intricate, something so… so infinitely perplexing and vivid be the same for everything that has the ability to think. I refuse to believe so.

…

Then why do humans think so? Why do they think that the mind is plain enough that their thought process is the same as everyone – sorry, everything – else's? This is my assumption on the matter, however, since I have noticed that interest in the human mind seems to be lackluster when it comes to trying to understand it.

Understanding.

Yet, I look upon the small percent of his mind that I'm willing to delve into and find it hard to blame them. This unimaginably small yet extraordinarily large part of the mind is not even scratching the surface of what it truly is.

Maybe before I would have thought no different like they seemed to, at least, that's how my primitive understanding was like. Humans were supposed to be simple creatures – mate to reproduce, kill and repeat – but, no, I soon found out that wasn't the case. There was an order, a social order, that they seemed to live by for reasons I found odd (odd, because from the one human I can speak to – my host – could not properly defend the reason why they act the way they do) and contradictory to nature.

It was puzzling the way these humans lived, casting aside impulses and desires to better follow the stigma they called their organized life.

I could – and I have before, mind you – babble about the mild discrepancies between their world and nature for an eternity longer, but I need to remain focused at the moment since my host is currently trekking through harsh territory vastly different from the kind his body is used to and, if he wants to survive, I'll need to keep his body in a stable condition. Not too difficult, actually, keeping his body in check and all. It was strange at first, but the human body is as fickle as it is durable and it was not difficult to realize that it needed to be at a certain condition in order to be considered "healthy".

It was a decent trade, I find. My essence is used to help keep his body in a healthy state and in turn my degeneration – or is it evolution? – is kept in check, or at least, it slows down to the point where I can still function properly to the form I am used to. The human body is complex as well, but not nearly as interesting as the mind so I hardly pay attention to how it works in favor of studying what catches my fancy. Controlling my power through his body is easy, but if he were to find out just how much control I had over it, he would probably be frightened.

If I wanted to I could stop his heart immediately, just an observation, not a threat as I don't really know what would happen if my host were to die – would I "die" also? – and I was not exceptionally willing to find out the answer to that. But it is because of that uncertainty on what would happen to me if he were to suddenly die that I keep his body healthy, and I'm sure the… others…are doing the same for their own hosts for the same reason.

And so I move my essence away from his heart…

Was it self-preservation? I'm not sure. I'm not malicious – at least, I don't know if I am – and he's… the best human I've ever come across.

Never mind the fact that he's the only human I have ever met. Losing him would certainly be troublesome, that is, if my existence can even be possible without him, but if not, I would rather learn more about this world before he "kicks the bucket"; a strange term tied to dying I find confusing. What does kicking an item used for holding liquid have anything to do with expiring?

Humans are strange.

Even with his obvious opposition to my existence within him, he took pity on little old me and held a conversation with me throughout a night. Strange indeed…

I cannot express the gratitude I hold for him for doing so. I am not being poetic, as I, quite literally, cannot find it within me to express something so… foreign. The conversation we had that night, while appreciated, hardly made a difference in my understanding of these human emotions – these, these… feelings… I was being bothered by. He told me about emotions as best as he could, tried to describe feelings to the best of his ability but he kept on using either the same emotion or a different one as reference to help get his point across, and when I called him on that there was a lengthy pause from the both of us.

Emotions are easy to understand as words; "happiness is the opposite of sadness" same goes for "anger" and "joy" and so on and so forth.

The red nodes of light…

Feelings are different. If emotions are the words, feelings are the definitions of those words. "Definitions" is a loose term to use because there are no definitions for emotions – only understanding from experience.

The product when the red and blue nodes come together to form orange…

The word "relatable" comes to mind again. If one cannot define a feeling there shouldn't be a problem if the others understand what the feeling is like through past experiences where similar feelings were felt. I do not have that luxury, the luxury known as time.

I was thrown into this world with the knowledge and memories of a rather smart seventeen year old human when I was mere minutes sentient. How… How troublesome.

I didn't have the time to settle in, to compose myself in this world I knew nothing about before I knew everything this human did and, as it turns out, he hardly knew anything about it to begin with. What a shallow and pointless existence that must be; living a life for the sake of doing so, without knowing what is around you or why it is there.

Pathetic.

He disagreed with me at that point. Oh but that was to be expected coming from him. His pride in his species seemed to flare out when I called it out on its decrepit shallow self, going on and on about how the human life was all about growth stemming from experiences and events one has encounters with. It was laughable as he tried to defend it, as his words were fresh on his mind and I literally knew they were the first time he has ever said and heard them before. Is that what defined a human life? I remember asking him that and his response was vague and uncertain.

"It should be."

He then thought of that girl again, that Hana Inuzuka girl, meaning that I too thought of her and of that night once more for the nth time already. He thought of the events that happened during the night and the events that almost happened that night, in her home, her bed and what they could have caused if they hadn't been interrupted as quickly as they had been. I listened patiently to his scrambled thoughts, his theories and predictions both "positive" and "negative" before the amount increased to the point where it began to hurt (him) from stress. I eased his mind to give myself breathing room by reminding him about where he stood at the moment, not any of the fantasies he created. He nodded and the fantasies melted away almost a bit too quickly.

We conversed shortly after that little episode, but I multitasked during it, scoping his memories of her to study them just a bit further with his thoughts about her as a reference and what I found was rather interesting.

She is, according to his bias opinion, brash, blunt and dominant, stubborn, controlling and…curious, surprisingly. Now, what interested me about what I found was not about what he felt towards her, rather, the way she was – no, the way she is fits better; what interested me the most was her herself. Her actions, her words, and the way her body moved when she spoke and acted the way she did. It was fascinating. Her body moved according to her words – how they were said – and her tone reflected her mood, her eyes would harden when she scolded and they would soften when she wasn't doing that, her hands danced with her words and body perfectly. This girl was interesting alright, this girl was Hana Inuzuka and she caught my interest.

Just thinking about her has made these rotten eyes of mine ache for some reason and I felt the only way to mend them was with her visage. Her very image appeared before me as soon as I realized I wanted to see her, a snapshot of a memory he had with her from before my time, when they first travelled to that meager village. Before me was her image, a scowl, her lips tight in a frown, and eyes that pierced the flesh.

Irritation.

Another image of her came and it was of her smiling a smug grin, raised eyebrow and eyes as soft as they could be after the fight he had with that other team.

Impressed.

More and more images of her appeared before me, each of them of a different moment, of a different memory. She was… she was so different in each one that it baffled me.

How did she, Hana, become like that? What stirred her on to be the way she is? What molded her… her… oh, what's the word… her…personality(?)… is that it…? Personality? Or is it her… character… that made her who she is?

I'm not sure…

Whatever it is that makes her, her, makes the girl stick out to me for… for reasons I'm not entirely sure of. She's noteworthy, she's confident, she's… Hana Inuzuka. Her mere image – her awed expression looking at the firework demonstration up at the sky during the festival in Wave – made me feel something new, something…

…something very…

These rotten eyes of mine narrowed on their own and I felt my form begin to shift away from her image a tiny bit. Recoil.

…made me feel something…something very unpleasant. It was something I have never been exposed to, and it felt so off putting…

What was it…? I forced the tails to separate and made them move outwards to help me find something I can use as reference for this.

It didn't take long to find something similar…

Using what I could from his memories the feeling I had within in me was similar to the effects of tasting very bitter medicine – disgusting. She was interesting, very much so, but this feeling was not nice and I could not shake it away.

Enough with her. Her visage disappeared, but the feeling remained.

I felt the tails wrap themselves around this form once more, almost as if trying to comfort me. It felt odd, but it lessened the bitter feeling slightly.

But only slightly.

...

Not knowing how to deal with this…feeling… I wanted to contact him in search of help, but remembering what he's currently going through, I felt it would be out of place if I were to bother him now. This feeling could wait… and it would linger.

…trying to distract myself from this disturbance (something very humanlike to do, I admit) I turned to the other humans he's met to see if any of them could gain my attention, if anything just to get this foul feeling away from me.

My thoughts went to the two humans my host was closest to: Naruto Uzumaki and Shino Aburame, and as such, their images appeared before me, but at a much, much more abundant amount. The images ranged from since they were young to just a couple of minutes ago, all from different angles and times. They were… peculiar, yes, but they lacked that appealing factor that made her standout. They were so… natural – is that the correct word to use? – when it came to their actions as if they were the base example of what humans were supposed to be like. Wasn't that supposed to be ridiculous? That notion would be impossible, but it didn't feel like it, no. These two were special cases (or was the rest of the world special and these two were just normal?) that didn't necessarily catch my attention as much as the others did. Perhaps the reason they seemed so… natural… was because of their relationship with my host.

Perhaps.

Even though these images served me no purpose, I still decided to go through them one by one, just to get my mind off a certain feeling I was plagued with at the moment. A lot of smiles in these, I noticed as I went through each and every single one of them.

Hmm?

I paused at one: an innocent one where they were with their families and teachers enjoying a day in the park, cherry blossom trees blooming in the background. There was something about this moment that interested me… I thought on what it could be until I paid more attention to the background then I did the foreground.

Pink.

The images that were in front of me disappeared before others took their place, all of them having something to do with the color pink.

Earlier I mentioned that he was the only human I have ever met before, but, since the events that occurred before leaving the village and up to now, I carelessly forgot about a certain chance encounter with that pink haired human known as Sakura Haruno. Aside from the rather, strange pigmentation of her hair, this girl almost rivaled Hana in terms of just how interesting she truly is. If this world was a puzzle – and it is – she would be the one to clear it before any other.

This pink creature was confident in her stride and her words; she knew just who she was in this world and where she stood amongst the rest. Part of me thinks that if she were to be my host, I wouldn't be as confused as I am now. Of course, this is just my speculation from his memories of her, and I understand that she was not always like the way she is now – his first memory of her was when they were young, where she was just as pathetic as the rest of the humanity, after all. The memory of when I first conversed with her came to mind – at least, my memory came to my mind – where she drugged him in that odd room. I could have prevented it, yes, but my interest got the best of me and I let things go on the way they did to see what would happen.

He wasn't completely out of it, but his mind was not with him when she began to interrogate him, asking him various questions about the mission in Wave he had just returned from, and interestingly enough, questions about a certain Inuzuka. I intervened there, taking over to introduce myself. Her reaction to my introduction was incredible; her emerald eyes widened for a second as her lips slightly parted before she composed herself and welcomed my entrance without hesitation. What a tremendous human being…

Our conversation was short, but extremely stimulating to the both of us, I'm sure. She asked me three questions throughout our talk, each with their own level of intensity:

How did you come to be?

Was Shikamaru planning on telling me about you?

What happened between Shikamaru and Hana Inuzuka that night?

…Strange questions, sure, but what caught my attention was that the third and final question held the most weight – as if that last question mattered the most to her. My answers were all to the point; "Not sure," and "No," and finally "I believe it is called 'foreplay.'"

Her composition shifted at my answers for a quick second before nodding her head, pleased at the information I gave her. What a fascinating human she is, and yet, the only reason I find Hana to be even more interesting is due to Sakura's interest in her. Is the girl that special?

Her image came up again and I couldn't help but absorb every detail of her mien once more.

I believe so.

But I do not know why.

I find myself comparing them both, Hana and Sakura, trying to find a reason as to why they garner my attention. They were both… unique(?) in this big world, but why?

Why are they unique? What makes them that way? What makes them standout to me? To me?

He's known Sakura for far longer than he's known Hana, and as such I can see the evolution that she's undergone throughout the years from the clueless, pathetic, weakling to the strong willed, exceptional apex human she is now. Hana is relatively new to his life, and yet, she catches my attention more than the other one does – even if it's just by a tiny margin more. I was able to use his memories to see Sakura become who she is and that is more than enough for me to find her interesting, but it is the complete opposite with Hana. I find myself wondering as to how she came to be, her uprising. They were extremely unique. They had to be.

Am I wrong for thinking as such? Wouldn't he think the same? Wouldn't he agree with me? Wouldn't he admit they are as interesting as I find them to be? He has to, right? I am inside his head, after all!

W-what did I just…?

I felt… I felt irritation begin to form – a string of the emotion that is known as "anger" – when I realized that, no, there was a chance he didn't see them in the same light that I did. Just as he has his own mind, I happen to have my own and due to that, our opinions might differ – this is so confusing!

…!

I lost control for a moment and his memories, emotions, responses and nodes of information came rushing to me in my moment of weakness. His memories - the ones I have seen a million times before – all played in my mind at once for a second before I cut them off when I caught my bearings. I… felt… the same as I did that night when we had that talk…

"…Terrified…"

I'm… panicking.

BUT WHY?!

Everything pulsed around me, threatening to collapse on this form of mine if I don't stay focused.

…

…

…

…I calmed myself after a small break, focusing on what I was thinking on before this embarrassing episode of mine.

I… I was thinking… thinking about them.

Their images appeared again; Hana in the morning when he was leaving the village, rain covering her form, and Sakura on the night when their day together ended, her smile full even after she cursed at him. They were humans, same as him and the others, but what the hell was it about them?

Did I just curse?

…

…It has to be who they are, I assume… Their mannerisms, the way their features are used to help them solidify who they were, their, their…their personalities? Or was it their characteristics…? Didn't I already ask this before?

What was a personality anyway? What did it mean to have character? How does one get a personality or how does one get character? Does… does everything have one of those two…? Does that include animals? Do they have personalities or character? Or are these…these things for humans only…?

Do I have a personality…?

I'm not human; I know that I am not.

Am I an animal…? I… don't know the answer to that... I can speak the human language and nothing else, but... I am not human.

I'm sentient… I can think and… and I can feel emotions, but… but…

…what am I…?

…

…

…

…what am I…?

…

…

…

I seized up, the tails went lifeless and I stayed there… motionless.

Alone.

If there was a word and emotion far, far, far, far, far, far, far, far, far, far, far, far, far, far, far, far, far, far, far, far, far, – farfarfarfarfarfarfarfarfarfarfarfarfar – worse than "terrified" would it be what I am feeling right now…?

H-how can humans live like this…? O-or is it because they are humans that they can live this way? What does that mean for me?

What does that mean for me?

I…

I think like they do… I… I can feel like they can… but I am not them…

He thinks of me as a demon…like the… original… but I am not that anymore – I never was that. I refuse to be called that again. I am different from that, I have to be! I am… I am…

I resist the urge to break down. Just barely.

There is pain now… and I cannot address it the same way I can with his injuries...

This pain was not a physical one…

They… Their images came back, moments from every memory he had with them came into view and played on repeat, taunting me, surrounding me, and with my rapidly deteriorating eyesight I looked upon them… They seemed to have it all figured out – just what they were and where they stood in the world – they are everything I am not, everything I will never be.

The bitter feeling came back and despite my fear I felt anger begin to rise.

They are everything I am not, everything I will never be.

It was envy.

More and more memories came forward but this time; it was of everyone he's known. This…this, this envy was not solely directed towards the girls, but on all of them! Every human he has seen!

They, the ones I mock and call pathetic, the ones I accuse of wasting their lives have more understanding than I, then, then… what does that make me?!

I forcefully desynchronized myself from his mind before I mess up and take in too much information. I try my best to calm myself, and at the smooth touch of grass around this form's limbs I know so well, I begin to relax. I was back in my woodland sanctuary, rooted to the ground, unable to move.

These failing ears of mine pick up the sounds of my heavy, consistent panting echoing through the mindscape I reside in.

…

…

…

I… I am…

I am not an animal. [The understanding of one.]

I am not a demon… [The form of one.]

I am… not a human either. [The mind of one.]

…

…

I don't know what I am.

And…and that terrifies me.

Where do I stand in the world? If I cannot comprehend it at all then does that mean that I am below the standard animal? Even animals know their role in the world… don't they?

Tch… I felt odd at my words – angry almost. Was considering myself as an animal, no, below that, insulting me? Why? Why is this eliciting such a disgusting emotion from me? Does that mean I don't think of myself as one?

Going through his mind I tried to find something that can help explain this… this, whatever this is, and all I could come up with was… pride… another human construct. I considered myself something better than an animal, it appears, yet I have nothing to show for it, no reason as to why I believe so. Even something as I had standards, apparently.

I somehow had standards. Whether I came into this world with them or I acquired them from him or through other means remain a mystery.

I can faintly hear him trying to call out to me, but I don't want to answer him at the moment. Maybe a conversation with him would be of use to me, and I obviously need his help, but… I feel as if this is something I need to deal with on my own….

I wanted to be alone, I realize.

And so I will be.

The wooden door swung open, partly from the force of the hand that turned the knob and mostly from the roaring wind that terrorized the outside, simultaneously startling the young woman inside and blowing out the candles placed around the cabin's interior.

"Right this way, gentlemen!" The older man tried to speak over the wind as he stretched his arm through the doorway, welcoming them to his little home.

"Otōsan!" The woman complained as she had just finished setting the last candle alight moments before his arrival. "What are you-" Her words died before they left her mouth as she saw three men enter her home, three pairs of piercing yellow eyes glowing in the dim lighting. Their unnatural eyes scanned the cabin's interior before they fixated on her.

She held back a gasp.

She heard her father say something but wasn't able to quite catch what it was, her attention solely on the three men before her and on the knife sitting on the stovetop to her left several feet from where she stood. To her surprise and utter terror, her father stepped in and began to close the door behind him, shutting out the main source of light the cabin had. Before the door closed completely she scrambled for the stovetop in an attempt to get the knife to defend herself and her father if they tried anything, but, alas, the door had been closed, the latch used to keep it in place let out an audible *clik-clak* and all was dark inside except for the yellow glowing eyes the strangers had.

"Ooh, boy it's dark in here!" She heard her father say in that amiable voice of his. "Didn't you hear what I said, bun? Light a candle, will you?"

Not knowing what to say, she meekly responded with: "I-I'm not n-near one, Otōsan."

"Hmm. I'd rather not let the cold in here again by opening the door, sorry to ask, but do any of you three have a light?" She couldn't see her father, but she saw their eyes shift to the side for a moment before one of them replied:

"I do." Whoever was the one that replied had a rough voice and held an accent she had never heard before. She heard a *snap* before a tiny orange flame sparked to life below one of the pair of glowing yellow eyes, slightly illuminating their owner's scarred face and covered body. The flame was coming from his hand, a lighter perhaps?

The sound of his boots hitting the wooden floor echoed as he walked forward, towards her.

*thud* *thud* *thud*

With each step he took forward she felt herself instinctively taking a step back in return. He stretched his arm out towards her; the tiny flame in his hand no longer illuminated his face or his form, just part of his arm and its immediate surroundings. Even though she was several feet away from the man's outstretched arm, she closed her eyes in fright before she heard her father speak up.

"Ahah! That's much better! Mind getting the rest of them?"

The young woman opened her eyes and was surprised to see the man holding the previously unlit candle in one hand and a lit one in the other. Using the lit candle as a way to light the other ones, the man went from candle to candle around the cabin doing the same thing to them all, his boots thudding against the wooden floor until the whole cabin was illuminated.

Now being able to see the three strangers in decent lighting, she took another step back and silently wondered what the hell her father was thinking when he, for whatever reason, decided it would be a good idea to bring three scary looking men such as these into their home. These three men screamed "trouble" and echoed "criminals" just by their rugged, scarred appearances, and what was up with their eyes, anyway? And here she thought her father's sense of judgement was keen despite his age… had she been wrong to think that?

Despite her relative unease to their presence, she couldn't just stay quiet about this. "O-otōsan, who… who are these men?" She felt her pulse race when they shifted their yellow eyes on her again.

Her father walked up and took a seat on a wooden chair beside the table center of the cabin before replying to his daughter's question. "Not a clue!" He laughed that scruffy laugh of his, and, much to her annoyance at how carefree he was at his age, it managed to calm her down a tad. The strangers even broke into a "grin" – more along the lines of a sadistic smirk, really – at his words. "Came across these gentlemen near the shoreline where I fish when a brute blizzard spurred out of nowhere. I reckoned these boys would have frozen to death if they stayed out there a little longer dressed the way they are so I figured I would invite them over 'til the storm dies down. 'sides, we don't get very much company, anyhow, so I figured this would be good for all of us."

"Very kind of you, mister." The one with the black vest nodded his head. "You have our thanks."

Almost as if on cue, the others spoke up as well.

"Thank you."

"Yes, thank you."

Her father shook his head, dismissing their words. "No need for such words, you three. We're all human after all; we have to look out for our own, 'specially around these parts."

She thought of their neighbors at that moment, thinking about their proposal to have dinner at their place in the near future, if possible. She thought of them and figured, hey, wouldn't they make much better, much safer company to have over than these three possibly dangerous strangers? If her father wanted company then why didn't he think of their neighbors?!

If her father could sense her unease then she could swear he had it out against her by making things worse. "Pull up a chair and sit down, we don't have much but we can sure pass the time by chewin' the fat, eh?" She saw the three of them look at one another in confusion before looking at her, almost as if they were looking for an explanation.

'They're definitely not from around here.' She thought before clearing her throat. "He means he wants to talk with you three."

"Oh." They said simultaneously, each with a nod of their head, a hand on their chin.

The table they had was new; four Septembers ago they had saved enough to upgrade their shoddy circular table into this nicer rectangular set. The set came with three chairs, increasing their total number of chairs in their little home to six – they kept the three old chairs they had before buying the new set, seeing as they were still usable.

Her father had taken the seat from one end of the table when two of them, the one with the black vest and the one with the bandaged up arm, took the two to his left. The last stranger, the one who had lit the candles, approached the chair on the opposite end of the table from her father (her usual seat) before pausing. He took a look at the chairs, both occupied and unoccupied, before seemingly making up his mind with a nod of his head. He grabbed the chair and pulled it up before moving towards the side opposite of where his friends were, where she so happened to be at. She took a cautionary step back and slightly jumped when he placed the chair in front of her, taking one of the older ones as he made his way back. She had unknowingly raised an eyebrow at this, as did her father, but he recovered far faster than she did.

"Ah, what a gentleman, but making moves after my daughter won't work, just so y'know." His tone was half playful and half serious.

"O-otōsan!" She heard herself complain, embarrassment evident on the blush she now bore.

"A-ah, n-no…" He stammered as he took a seat, his hands cautiously held out as if he were trying to diffuse the situation but didn't know the words to say.

Her father held the serious look on his face for an awkward moment before it cracked into a grin, eventually breaking into a full blown guffaw a second later. His laugh was warm, and infectious. Before she knew it, she broke into an embarrassed and while the strangers did the same, they did so in a much different way.

"Alright alright, enough with the pleasantries, let's talk for a bit, until the storm dies down a bit." Her father announced.

"Er… what about?" The one with the bandaged arm asked clumsily.

Her father placed his shoulders on the table before leaning forward a little towards him. "How about we start with that accent of yours? Never heard anything like it before."

They could only shrug in response.

"Well, where are you three from?" Her father pressured.

The one next to him replied. "F-far away from here." He coughed. "East."

"Can you be a little more specific, son? There are a lot of places east of here…" She could hear that tone of his come out – it was always bitter.

"Otōsan…" She began, but wisely changed the topic to avoid further awkward moments such as this one. She turned to them, just a little bit more at ease with their presence than before. "N-now answer me this: why are you three around Frost in clothing like that?" They looked at their clothing at her words, trying to find out what she meant. "That isn't proper clothing for a place like this, obviously."

The one with the black vest opened his mouth to say something but no words came out except for a hint of a sigh.

"Come to think of it, our little town is pretty deep into Frost, isn't it?" She continued, tapping a finger into her chin.

"I-is it, now?" One of them replied, his deep tone uneven.

"H-how did you three even make it this far in clothes like that?" She asked with bewilderment.

"We were always…" The one that had lit the candles took a pause. "…good against cold."

"Heh, you could say that again! You three were practically covered in steam, the snow was melting off of ya so fast!" Her father chimed in, recovering from his previous mood.

"Steam?" She repeated after her father.

She heard one of them sigh before they muttered something she couldn't quite understand.

"Hey, hey! While we're at it, let's talk about them eyes of yours!"

She heard them sigh once more.

Hot Springs

The town was lively today, or so it seemed to the portly ninja and to his platinum blonde friend beside him from the building they were waiting outside of. His foot tapped impatiently against the ground as did her finger against her arm, both synchronized in dual irritation.

"I think I'm starting to understand why you feel the way you do, Chōji." Ino muttered under her breath, her back going against the wall behind her.

"And…?" He replied, drawing the word out deliberately.

"It really must suck to be you, if this is how you normally feel." Her response was dry.

"Thanks for understanding." He agreed. "Maybe now that you know what I go through every day you'll cut me some slack."

A smile crept along her face for a moment. "Don't count on it."

He rolled his eyes, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to see the action from where they stood from one another. "Never did."

"You have very low expectations, don't you?"

"You kinda have to if you want to be able to bear the team we're in." He deadpanned.

"And where has that gotten you, Chōji? You're lucky Kurenai-sensei even let you come on this mission." The blonde shook her head.

"You're right. I would have been so devastated if Kurenai-sensei would've told me to sit this one out. Besides, having low expectations is far better than being crazy, scary, ill tempered, condescending, and stupid." He retorted, using his fingers to count the amount of descriptions he listed.

Ino held out her fingers as well, muttering what he had said. "…crazy, scary, ill tempered, condescending, and stupid…" She scoffed, insulted by his implications. She looked at him, eyebrows furrowed in irritation. "Are you calling me crazy?!"

He laughed once. "Try again."

She held out her fingers once again. "…crazy, scary, ill tempered, condescending, and…" She paused. "Oh, you're such an asshole."

"You're thinking of Kiba."

"Prick, then."

"That's Sasuke."

"Moron."

"We just went through this, Ino." He grinned.

"Oh, yeah." She grinned in return.

Ah, yes… In a team full of crazy, scary, ill tempered, condescending and stupid people, the one with the low expectations got along best with the stupid one and vice versa.

Their nerves had been calmed for the moment, their little back-and-forth with one another always helped when needed as such and they abused the hell out of them whenever possible. Some would call it toxic, but they, they called it…

The door to their right opened, a little bell attached to it sounded off alerting them of it, and lo and behold it was none other than Scary – er, Sakura.

The pinkette exited the store, her pouch filled with more folded pieces of information than before. She turned to her left and smiled at her faithful, trusting teammates, going as far as patting her now plump information pouch with the one hand of hers that was free.

"So did you find everything you wanted?" Chōji welcomed her, his tone of voice clearly disinterested.

"Yes." She nodded her head.

Ino gave her a once over, taking notice of the large paper bag in her left hand. "What's with the bag, Sakura?"

"Oh, this?" She dangled the bag towards them, an unsettling smile settled in when her teammates slightly recoiled from it. "I got you guys some gifts, is all. You know, for coming along all this way with me and whatnot."

They would have scoffed if they were brave enough to do it, but since they weren't, they simply settled with a doubtful glance. "Gifts?" Ino repeated a second later.

"Yes."

"You… got gifts for us…?" Chōji questioned her.

"Yes, why are you making it sound so strange?" They saw her generous smile falter slightly, her brows furrowed in agitated confusion.

"N-no reason…"

"Y-yeah we're just surprised, is all…"

Sakura deliberately tilted her head to the left. "Oh? That so?" Her tone of voice did not match her curious look. "In any case, take your gifts and let's get ready to go." She reached into the bag and pulled out a large, thick coat before passing the bag onto Ino.

The blonde looked inside and saw two more of the same type of coats within the bag. "Coats?"

Chōji took a look as well before seemingly coming to a realization. "Where are we going, Sakura?"

The pink haired girl had already begun to walk, turning around to answer him. "Haven't you heard? The whole town is talking about a woman storming out of the Healing Waters hotel earlier this morning."

"And…?" Ino edged her to go on.

"Well, that's the hotel our disguised targets used to spend the night." Sakura replied, not slowing down her stride, forcing the others to walk with her. "And the woman who ran out was none other than their little stalker friend from Kumo they met with at that bar the day before."

"Maybe she just needed to go back to her village?" Ino offered, coat on hand.

"The receptionist reported that our targets had suddenly checked out from their room some hours after they had checked in, and when she asked why, they didn't give her an answer." Sakura shook her head, her braids going with the motion.

"Coincidence?"

They turned the corner at her command.

"I highly doubt it." They were currently cutting through a dirty alleyway between the building Sakura had just been in – a small antique shop – and the laundromat next door. "That woman is a professional; I don't think we have room to argue with that based on what we saw back in Heisui." They nodded their heads, not that she could see the action as she lead the way out of the alleyway into one of the major streets of the town. "Leaving in such an unsightly manner, catching the entire town's attention, well, that's a little out of character, don't you think?"

"I guess so." Chōji muttered, the thick brown coat in his hands held his eyes' attention.

"I'm thinking our friends had a little confrontation with the woman inside the hotel and bailed the moment they had a chance." Sakura theorized. They turned at the nearest intersection on her command, not slowing down when a burly man bumped into her, his hand discretely passing hers a folded sheet of paper. The action was quick, but they noticed.

"So they managed to somehow sneak out of the hotel without her knowing?" The blonde was skeptical. "And if they did, then how?"

"Maybe they surprised her." Sakura shrugged. "Based on how they look they're nothing but a bunch of thugs, not trained ninja. They could have used that against her and snuck past her while she slept."

"…" Chōji's rebuttal died in his mouth. These were just speculations, just possibilities that could have happened, not definite truths. This whole mission seemed to be like that, now that he thought about it. The only reason they were on this mission was due to the Hokage's concerns about the relationship the trio had with Gatō Company. His concern was justified, kind of, Chōji reasoned, as such a huge conglomerate obviously had to have its fair share of criminal connections and having his three favorite ninja possibly involved with any of that is more than a good reason to be nervous. And now, there was a chance they weren't following their targets anymore, literally crossing into other countries under his teammate's assumption. An assumption! It's normal to feel uncertain about this whole thing, right?

"Are all Kumo ninja this careless?" Ino asked with an amused shrug.

"They have always been crafty, Ino." Sakura chimed in with that all-knowing tone of hers that drives Hinata and Kiba crazy.

"You would know, Sakura." Ino began. "What with your weekly dates with Shikamaru and all."

"They're monthly, mind you." Sakura corrected her.

"…You're not going to deny that they're dates?" Ino paused.

"Hm?" Sakura failed to hear her.

"N-never mind…" Chōji saw his blonde teammate wisely deflate from the topic.

"Getting back on topic…" Chōji started. "…where are we going, Sakura?"

"Oh yeah, you had asked about that." Sakura nodded her head. "Based on the multiple reports given by civilian eyewitnesses who saw the woman storm out of the hotel earlier this morning, it is pretty safe to say that she went north from here, probably in pursuit of our disguised friends."

"North from here, Sakura?" Chōji just knew it. "You're going to make us go all the way to Frost Country?"

"Yes." Her reply was nonchalant. "Probably a bit further than that, come to think of it."

Chōji sighed.

A silence grew between them, even as they strode past the large crowds of tourists, and Sakura, probably expecting defiance from her pleasantly plump teammate, turned to face him when a retort failed to show up. The action caused their group to suddenly halt.

"What's the problem?" Chōji asked, slightly nervous for his wellbeing considering he was the last one she talked to.

"You're not going to fight against me?" She asked, brows arched in faux surprise.

"No. No I'm not." He shook his head, defeated. "What's the point? I mean, we're already all the way over here, why not go for a couple more countries on an assumption of yours?" His tone was acid, bitter and sharp.

Sakura opened her mouth to say something, but whatever she had to say suddenly died before it had the chance to escape her mouth. Her face went into a painfully neutral stance before she turned around.

"Very well."

And then they began to move again. Chōji didn't particularly feel anything towards the reaction he managed to elicit out of his teammate, and didn't particularly feel anything towards this awkward atmosphere he had created either. Ignoring his common sense, he pressed again.

"If you knew she had gone and left earlier this morning then why are we leaving so late in the afternoon, Sakura? What if we lose them?"

"We won't." She responded quickly. "I happen to know exactly where they're going."

Chōji rolled his eyes. "And how do you know that?"

"Oi, Chōji…" Ino tried to intervene.

"What exactly do you think I have been doing this whole time, Chōji?" Sakura asked, her tone neutral still. "Going in blindly? Going on a whim?"

"That's what it looks like to me, Sakura." He stammered.

"And here I thought you were the smart one." She chided, her back still facing him. "There is a lot of information around these parts, some helpful to me, some helpful for future reference, all helpful to this mission." She began. "The reason why there are Kumo ninja around these parts when they haven't been hired by Hot Springs, for example. Or how the current relationship between Frost Country and Lightning all plays a part with all of this? Do you have any idea how important this information is?"

"No, I don't." He replied after a moment of thought. "And how the hell am I supposed to know? You keep all of this information to yourself and never tell me anything. I get it, you're an information broker and most of the things you know can't be spoken about, but when you lead us out of our country on an assumption and information you can't speak to us about, it gets hard, okay? I have doubts." He muttered the last sentence.

"…well at least you know your place." Sakura replied after a moment of strict silence. Something seemed… off about her response, but he could care less.

"…yeah, I guess I do. Lead the way and I'll follow." He admitted defeat, if anything just to soothe his headache.

"…"

"Y-yeah, I agree! Just lead the way, Sakura!" Ino, as grateful as she was about Chōji keeping her out of his conversation with Sakura, could not support his argument, her safety demanded otherwise. Still, she felt bad for him.

"…I'm glad you trust me, Ino." Sakura turned around to look at her blonde teammate for a moment before turning back.

"Why wouldn't I?" Ino laughed, but her smile was forced.

At this point in time they had already neared the outskirts of the village, where the towering hotels and buildings began to become thin. The roads slowly worsened in condition the further they got away from the vastly populated areas, eventually the black asphalt and cement were replaced with dirt paths and foliage.

An hour into their trek, now outside the village, Ino tried to break the silence that had been dominating their group since they last interacted with one another.

"So, Sakura…?" She asked in an attempt to strike a conversation.

"Hm?" Sakura turned her head to get a look at her. "What is it, Ino?"

"I was just wondering something…"

"Do tell."

"That woman – the ninja – is she special or something?" Her questioned spiked one of Sakura's eyebrows upwards in surprise.

"What makes you say that?" The pinkette inquired.

Ino placed a hand on her chin. "Well, didn't you say she gathered attention when she stormed out of that hotel earlier this morning?"

"Yes, I did say that." Sakura nodded her head.

"What's so surprising about that?" Ino asked with a shrug. "There were five robberies the short amount of time we were there, right? You'd think a woman running from somewhere wouldn't be such a big deal, no?"

Sakura let out a contemplative "Hmm…"

"Maybe the sight of a ninja doing something like that is rare." Chōji surprisingly contributed.

"We passed more than a couple of groups of men in drag back there, Chōji." Ino said neutrally. "They winked at you." She added. "I doubt something as tame as ninja acting out of character could be considered weirder than that."

"Ugh, don't remind me…" Chōji gagged.

Ino laughed and Sakura chuckled.

"Well, Sakura?" Ino prodded. "Why do you think she caused so much commotion?"

"Don't even bother, Ino. Sakura is not going to tell us any-"

Sakura, still in front of them leading the way, raised her hand and lifted a finger, her trademark when it came time for her to answer something.

"-thing…"

Sakura turned around to look at Ino and smiled before releasing a tiny smidgeon of information:

"Eyewitnesses who saw her leave the hotel reported that her sprint was inhuman, and her eyes were piercing…" Her smile grew. "…like if she had been possessed by a demon."

"Just a little longer, gentlemen." She heard her father explain to them from the table behind her before he called for her. "How's it going with dinner, bun?" She almost sighs at this as she tries to ration what little food they already had into a suitable meal for five while still leaving them enough for maybe a day or two in the morrow. The small icebox they use to keep their perishables was almost empty to begin with, and now with the larger-than-usual audience their dinner table had at the moment their little refrigerator was dangerously close in the red zone.

She looks at the plates she fashioned and frowns and her reflections against those plates frown back at her, letting her know that they simply did not have enough to fill them completely. The pans she had used were still on the stove, traces of cooking oil scarcely stained one of them where she fried the fish cuts and vegetables together to save oil and the other had half a dozen grains of sticky white rice seemingly glued on to its surface, almost mocking her in the most depressing way possible. She's not satisfied with how the plates look and she finds herself moving towards the large pantry next to the sink and the icebox to inspect its contents and finds just the addition for the dinner, bread still somewhat fresh – "fresh" being used loosely, here – enough to be considered good and not stale enough to deter the taste of the food. The bread is simply there to fill up the meal, a buffer food, if you will. She closes the doors to the embarrassingly empty pantry and adorns their plates with a slice of bread each before accepting this as their dinner for the night.

She trembles slightly before composing herself.

She moves the old, cracked plates two at a time, to the stranger who had the match and the other with the black vest first, before going back to get the next two plates for the one with the bandaged arm and for her father and then goes back one last time to get her plate before she sits at the table.

Her father takes a look at his plate, then theirs, then at her. His eyes went slightly wide when they came into contact with hers, as if he had caught her doing something she wasn't supposed to, as if he had immediately noticed that his plate was perhaps just a tine more fuller than those of their guests'. She pretends not to notice the look he shoots her, and before she begins to feel even guiltier she hears one of them murmur out a faint:

"Thank you, for the meal." The stranger with the black vest nods his head when she and her father turn their heads at him. The other two do the same, and she feels a mixture of relief and pain swell up from within when she hears the authentic gratitude in their voice. If what she felt was a ten, then what her father felt must have been a one-hundred for he tries to apologize immediately to save face.

"…things have been slow this year, I'm afraid." She hears defeat in his words and it wrenches at her heart to hear it. "We don't have much to offer, I'm sorry." He doesn't look at them or at her, and instead finds the table more interesting. The silence echoes throughout their cabin and she feels as if this embarrassment and shame have always been there, but she and her father had expertly ignored it all. This was simply a wake-up call.

The silence drags on for almost half a moment before they hear one of them speak out.

"And yet…" The one with the black vest begins, pausing for a moment as he looks at the plate before him with a look she can't place. "…you offer us so much." He is surprised, she registered from his tone of voice, and he thanks them once more, his friends echoing him a second after. She could feel the sting lessen and the embarrassment and shame begin to water down slowly from his words and their appreciation, and a single look to her father made it known to her that he felt it too.

They reach out for their chopsticks and thank them personally for the meal before they begin, and she and her father do the same. The meal was eaten in relative silence; the only thing to be heard was the still raging blizzard outside.

These men were not so bad, she began to think as she ate from her plate. The talk she and her father had with them revealed so much yet revealed nothing at the same time. They were secretive and defensive, but they didn't seem to be lying about the certain things they were comfortable sharing, like their names, for example – or, more specifically, their lack of names. They said they had long forgone the names they used to have back from wherever the hell they were from (their place of origin was something they were secretive about, only saying that they were from the east) for reasons they wouldn't quite share, but they didn't need to in order for someone to guess the circumstances they were in. Scarred bodies and thousand-yard stares could only be caused by so much, a product of violence and sadness only known by war, maybe.

Maybe somethings were perhaps better left in the past, to be forgotten, but she wouldn't know anything about that. She considered herself lucky.

And that made things even more surprising and depressing when they mentioned their age, several years below hers, in their late teens, still too young to be actually considered 'men' and not old enough yet to not be considered 'boys', but they had been aged beyond their years and calling them any less might be considered offensive. And despite all of that, they remained kind and not bitter throughout the conversation they had with her and her father.

The meals, unsurprisingly, were finished rather quickly and she put it upon herself to pick up the used plates and take them to the sink to begin washing them off. Her back is to them as she tries to turn the faucet on, but realizes the pipes are more than likely frozen so she stops before using a damp sponge to try to get the job done when she hears her father gasp in surprise.

There's a twitch in her heart, a small pull on it forcing her to somehow fear for the worse, but she doesn't turn around. Maybe it was fright forcing her to continue cleaning the dishes one by one or maybe it was the silence that reigned after his gasp that prevented her from turning around to see something she did not want to see or believe. She doubted her fear, however. She trusted her sense of judgement, just how her father's sense told him they were good people she knew it too, and so, with that thought on her mind, she steeled herself and turned to face behind her.

She saw him on his chair, back to the end of its wooden frame, eyes wide and mouth agape. Before she could fully relax knowing he was okay, she followed his gaze and nearly dropped the plate in her hands and saw what he saw: money. Lots of it. A stack of it – a stack of money; paper money – on the table inches from his hand, stacked to the height of the novel Sa-chan (the neighbor's attractive daughter) had lent her. She felt her mouth drop slightly, but she didn't bother closing it, her eyes reluctantly left the money on the table and went to them, and upon her eyes meeting theirs they nodded and explained.

"This is for…" The one with the bandaged arm began, but had difficulty finding the words.

Luckily for him, his friend with the black vest piped in. "…your hospitality towards us. You offer us so much…" He paused for a moment, perhaps thinking it over. "…when you have so little, it is the least we can do."

"I-I-I…" Her father stuttered, obviously in shock from the amount presented on the table and she feared for what his answer might be. Her father, despite their situation, held his pride next to his heart and always rejected every offer of help their neighbors and their pretty daughter would propose. As a novice fisherman (ex-trader) he barely earned enough to keep them under this roof with just a little extra for food – on a good day – but almost nothing for amenities such as newer furniture or clothing. But now… she's never seen that amount of money in one place stacked all neat like it was on their table and she silently wondered if that could be said about her father as well.

"Where did this money come from?" She wanted to ask, obviously concerned about the origins of the money they were so seemingly eager to give away, but found her words wither before they were formed. These men were not bad men, she found herself thinking once more, but they were still strangers and strangers don't go around deliberately giving money away, right? What if the money came from a crime or something along the lines of one? What if it was blood money like in the novel she was reading? She shuddered at the thought, but, taking another look at the money they presented she faltered. They needed the money – not "could use", no, they were in a financial crisis and they needed the money – if they wanted to better their lives, upgrade their water heater and their home, whereas their neighbors were somehow able to earn enough to stay warm and cozy in their homes that still had electricity, she and her father have been suffering from lacking the funds to achieve what they had. Her father had said it wasn't always like this, where this country wasn't stuck in poverty the way it is now. She would nod, remembering how it used to be.

"I… I don't…" She heard her father begin and she felt herself going towards him.

"Otōsan…" She almost pleaded.

"Oh, bun, I'm not sure…" He was troubled.

"It is as you said before…" The one who had the lighter cut in. "…we are human; we look out for our own."

She saw her father's opposition begin to crumble after being quoted, his hand going towards the stack of money they left on the table. "I, I don't know whether or not to say thank you, frankly." He muttered, fingers touching the first bill atop the stack.

"Don't." They replied simultaneously with a nod of their head. She found herself smiling and relieved when she saw him hesitantly drag the stack towards him, but her smile was short-lived, being cut-off when a massive crash outside shook the entirety of their home. She staggered, nearly missing the chair next to her to use as support.

"What the hell?" Her father managed to mutter out, his hands making sure the money didn't fall to the floor. "What was that?" His eyes went to the door so he missed them jerk back slightly, but she saw. They turned towards her and shook their heads collectively, a worried look splattered on their faces.

"Do you know what that was?" She asked nervously and felt her heart sink when they nodded and spoke out: "Trouble." Her father had already turned around to face them when they held a finger against their lips and somehow melded into the shadows of the less illuminated part of the cabin. She couldn't see them anymore, as impossible as it seemed, they had disappeared inside her home!

Before she and her father could ask what was going on, there was two consecutive knocks on their door, loud enough to be heard through the storm yet still courteous enough to be respectful. They turned towards the door and then back to the dark where they were before looking at one another. Seconds passed on by with them both silently contemplating on what to do before two more knocks rapped against the wooden frame of the door much harder and louder than before.

Scrambling to his feet off the chair, her father slowly walked to the door and began to unlock the latch to the door and she felt her eyes go to the back of the cabin once more before going back towards the opening door.

The candles went out and all went dark minus the blinding light from the blizzard outside the door, a silhouette of a person could be seen from the doorway.

"C-can we help you?" She heard her father ask.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, you can." The person, a woman, replied. Her voice was stable, as if the blizzard outside failed to have an effect on her. "May I come in?" She asked.

Her father stammered at the question, obviously worried about what they had said about this being trouble. "I, well, y-yes sure, but it's pretty dark here and all…" He moved out of the way for her to enter.

"How kind of you, but not to worry," She walked in to their currently dark home, her visage still obscured, "that shouldn't be a problem for me." As she finished saying this, a flame came to life slightly illuminating the area near it.

A lighter, perhaps? She focused on the flame and saw a fingertip underneath it. She nearly gasped at the sight.

A ninja.

The flame moved downwards hitting a candle and lighting up the place seconds before her father closed the door. With the faint light, she managed to get a much better look at the ninja in front of her and was slightly taken aback by, well, by how pretty she was. Her eyes, lips, face and body seemed so out of place in their little cabin and would perhaps fit in better in one of the novels she's read in the past. She caught herself fixing her hair and smoothing out the creases of her shirt, a nervous blush on her face. When she was done with her tidying up, her eyes met the stranger's and then met the metal plate mostly behind her hair.

She could almost feel her heart drop half a second before she realized what it meant.

She's from Kaminari.

Her footing steered her back a step, an action the ninja caught immediately. If it bothered her she either didn't care or didn't show it because in response, she simply nodded her head to the side as if saying "What can I say?"

She felt a sense of threat coming from the ninja.

"N-Now, how can we help you, miss?" She heard her father say behind the ninja in front of her.

Her father didn't get to see the small smile form on the woman's face, but she did. "I'm looking for some men that passed through here, three of them." She turned around to face him, his eyebrows arching upwards in surprise initially before they furrowed a second later. "I just want to know where they went."

"You…" Her father began. "You're from-"

"Mhm." She nodded once.

"Who do you think you-"

"Otōsan!"

"Don't do this." She warned, preemptively calming a headache by moving one of her hands to her forehead.

"You've ruined our country!" Her father spat out, genuinely angry.

The ninja sighed. "I did not ruin your country." Her words sounded worn out, as if she's said this exact phrase hundreds of times. "My country's government is the one who ruined your country, not me or my village, can we drop this?"

Her father gritted his teeth. "You say that as if it weren't you ninja bullying our borders!"

"We're following orders." The woman affirmed her stance.

"You're starving us!"

"Otōsan!"

"We had no choice but to do so." She leered, arms crossed. "You know the reason why, don't you?" Her eyes steeled into a glare, causing her dad to falter back slightly. "It started here in Frost, or is my memory hazy?"

"E-every country has criminals…" He muttered out.

"And it just so happens that one of yours royally screwed us." She didn't skip a beat.

Her father had lost most of his initial rage on account of her constant rebuttal, but kept at it. "You're crippling a country over the crime of one man…!"

"Our country was nearly crippled over the crime of one man." She flipped his words around. "We're still dealing with what he did all those years ago and he somehow managed to get away without anybody catching his identity. Don't you think that's enough of a reason for us to be cautious?"

"'Cautious'? This is overkill…"

"Maybe so, but as I said before: we can't take another hit like that again. We'll be completely crippled if we let our guard down." Through the tone of her voice it was obvious she was getting tired of this conversation. "But enough about this and that, I'll ask again; have you seen three strange men come around these parts?"

"S-strange?" She heard herself ask. The ninja sighed.

"Let me answer my own question. I know they were here. This is the last place I could feel their presence before they went off of my radar. I need to know where they went." The faint candlelight did nothing to fully capture the finer details of her face as it contorted into a small frown. Her lips twitched slightly as she was about to add onto what she was saying but was interrupted.

"W-what did they… what did they do?" The ninja turned towards her at the question asked. She fumbled her hands around under her stiff gaze, understandably nervous.

And then the ninja smiled. "So they were here, huh?"

"U-uh, y-yes they were… they were here…" She caught herself staring at her before snapping out of it. "T-they didn't seem to be the criminal type…" She admitted with hesitation.

"Really?" The ninja retorted with a surprised expression. "They certainly look the part, at least, to me they do."

"O-oh, well, yes, at first glance they do look like that…" She fidgeted.

"'At first glance', eh?" The ninja repeated with a nod of her head. "How long were they here, exactly?"

"Long enough to know they were good people." Her father interrupted. "It doesn't take a ninja to see a person's character-"

"Otōsan, please!" She scolded him. Since their argument started, she had been trying to keep a calm environment here but none of her effort would pay off if he kept trying to spark a fight. She turned back to the ninja and shook her head. "Several hours. Hard to say how many because of the storm, sorry."

"I see." The ninja nodded, her expression foreign to her and her father. "And when did they leave?"

"…I'm not sure… an hour before you came, maybe?" She lied.

"You don't sound so sure." The ninja took a step towards her, an innocent action in normal terms, but in this faintly lit room it held a more ominous tone. She took a step back in return, her heart skipping a beat. "I know you're lying to me." She took another step back in response when the ninja moved forward. "I don't have time for games, I hope you understand that, girl." The ninja was upon her now, mere inches from her face, back against the pantry.

"I-I-I…" She stammered from the close proximity with this dangerous woman.

"Get away from her!" She saw her father make a move towards them, but when the ninja turned to face him, he froze in place.

"Stay out of this." The ninja ordered before looking back to her. "When did they leave?" Each word was painfully slow, a half a second gap between them.

"T-t-they…" Her heart was going to end up bruised with how hard it was hitting her chest. "T-they…" Her eyes darted to her right where the light from the candle couldn't reach and then to her left where she saw her father trembling.

"Tell me. Now."

"T-THEY-"

The candle was somehow blown out, as if a small gust of wind snuffed it. Darkness took over the cabin and silence reigned supreme for a second in a half until loud, frantic footsteps were heard running from the back of the cabin towards them. She couldn't see what happened but she felt the ninja's presence get pushed away forcefully onto the floor with a heavy thud.

"H-Hey!" She heard the ninja yell in surprise before the door was pushed open, illuminating the inside of their cabin. Three silhouettes were briefly seen running out of the doorway. The ninja attempted to get up to run after them, but her feet were bound by wire. The ninja yelled in anger and cut through the wire with her nails before giving chase several seconds behind them.

They were alone. She saw her father look at her, eyes wide and scared, color completely vanished from his face. She couldn't breathe normally. She collapsed onto the floor, her legs giving out beneath her. Her father soon followed after. The roaring wind from the outside was the only thing that could be heard from the open door. Minutes passed with them on the floor, terrified.

From the corner of her eye she saw the pantry door open on its own before someone stepped out of it, his form barely recognizable from the poor lighting but the glowing yellow eyes defined who it was. She gasped and moved back, her form still on the floor. Two other pairs of eyes became visible from her point of view, previously hidden and obscured from beneath the beds at the end of the cabin were the other two strangers.

"H-h-how…?" She barely heard herself whisper.

One of them walked to the door, avoiding her father on the way there, and began to close it. Another had lit a candle and the last one crouched in front of her.

"We're… sorry." He muttered, eyes refusing to meet hers.

She didn't know it then, and she would never realize it, but she and her father were among the first people whose lives were about to change because of these three individuals…

…forever.

---

Chapter End

---

Sorry for the wait everyone! This chapter seriously took me for a spin, which is why it took me so freaking long to put out. I apologize for that.

Anyways, things covered in this chapter:

Shikamaru's Kyuubi going through an existential crisis is huge. His Kyuubi is lost right now, it doesn't know what it is or what it means to be. It lives in a state without purpose as of right now, trying to understand how humans can live in such a dull, dishonest, meaningless life. It lacks an identity, a voice, something that will make it different and unique from the original it hails from. So now, being connected with Shikamaru in both memories and emotions it will begin pulling towards them in an effort to discover what it truly means to exist in such a world that us humans know.

The father and daughter family is simplicity and innocence, both of which are going to be missing in the near future…

The current relationships between Lightning and Frost and Hot Springs are hinted at during this chapter over the actions of a man who hasn't appeared yet, but will soon enough. As it stands, Lightning is troubled right now, something that was mentioned several chapters ago. As for the ending sentence, well, not everything ends as intended.

Sakura's strained relationship with Chōji and Ino is pushed even further in this chapter. Ino and Chōji share a relationship that is not quite to the level of a friendship per se, but it's the closest relationship any of the members of the team could probably get to at this point. This relationship (between all of them) will be expanded upon later.

Make sure to leave a review if you liked/disliked this chapter or are confused about something or if you'd like to see something in the near future. Reviews keep me going so be generous with them!

Thank you all so much for reading, and as always, have a great day!

P.S. New Segment Ahead!

[]~[]~[][o][]~[]~[]

What if?

Theme:

What if Shikamaru and Shino died on the bridge fight?

[From chapter 8: Forsaken Truth]

"Now die." Zabuza said simply as he and his clone were about to slice them from both sides, but stopped when Hana's youngest canine came from the hiding place that she had put them in to recover, before he jumped and bit the original's arm.

"GAH – FUCKING MUTT!" Zabuza yelled before jerking his arm, forcing the canine to let go. Zabuza kicked the dog away, letting it roll on the ground before pulling a kunai out. "Enough out of you!"

"NO!" Hana screamed as the kunai flew towards the downed canine. Before the weapon could connect, however, Shikamaru intercepted the attack as he rolled in front of it to shield the canine.

The kunai pierced his coat and stabbed him as several inches of steel penetrated his left side.

"G-Get out of here! Don't worry about her; I'll make sure nothing happens, so go!" Shikamaru gasped as he removed the weapon from his body, the coat following suit as he removed it. The dog whined, but limped away from the boy.

"N-Nara…" Hana sighed in relief at the sight of her canine being alive.

Zabuza frowned. "And here I thought you had potential, but anyone that would take a hit for a mutt is not cut out for this world." He turned and looked at the girls. "Time to end this already." Zabuza and his clone lifted their swords one last time.

"Not yet!" Shikamaru yelled as he threw the kunai that had pierced him. "Now, Shino!" The kunai flew, approaching the area in between Zabuza and the girls. As it flew by, Hana saw a paper wrapped around the kunai's hilt as it began to glow.

"Now die!" Zabuza and his clone shouted as the kunai flew past them, their swords swung – the original's sword to Hana's left and the clone's sword to Tenten's right to form a double sided guillotine.

*clang-clang!*

At that instant, Shikamaru's last teleportation seal activated on the kunai, allowing him and Shino the chance to intercept Zabuza's attack. With the bloodied kunai ready, Shikamaru teleported in front of Hana, pulling her closer as he used the kunai to try and stop the attack as he kneeled. Shino did the same as the kunai he had used to deal with Gatō and his men was used to try and save Tenten.

But… it wasn't enough.

Zabuza's legendary sword was far too strong to be stopped by measly kunai and easily cut through the weapons, eviscerating Shikamaru, Hana, Shino and Tenten in one slash, killing them instantly.

Fate witnessed it all, the beginning of the end.

Maou and Kami, in their respective realms, completely blindsided by this turn of events, panicked and sent their scouts to secure the last living champion before he too perished, their tones frantic.

The scouts, winged soldiers of Heaven and Hell, wasted no time and dove into the portals their leaders conjured up and appeared above the bridge where the two champions were slain. The portals on the sky were visible for thousands of miles, bringing a sense of upcoming doom to all those who managed to see them.

The scouts soared through the air focusing their descent towards the injured blond inside the crystal ice prison, shattering through it as if it were nothing, killing the human who used them.

"W-what's g-going on…?!" Naruto could barely whisper, his vision obscured by the massive amounts of wind being generated by the winged soldiers above him. He slumped to his back and saw feathers falling around him, the same feathers they had always seen as kids. "…b-bird people…" He felt hands – strong hands – grab his shoulders, arms, waist and legs before he was pulled up towards the sky. Then, they began to pull. Hard.

Hell's scouts pulled the champion's upper body while Heaven's scouts pulled on his legs and waist, both trying to secure the champion as they flew higher and higher up the sky. It was a tug-of-war between Heaven and Hell for this champion, but, the still-human body, so frail, could only sustain so much before giving out. Hell pulled hard and Heaven pulled harder, both matching each other's strength, not noticing the champion's pained screams until it was too late.

Naruto screamed as he was brutally pulled apart in the air, his upper body and lower body separating from one another. The last image he saw was of his intestines flowing out of his upper body, his legs and waist in the hands of winged warriors in front of him.

His screams came to an abrupt stop, replaced with choked gasps for a moment before he too perished.

The opposing scouts, shocked that they had killed the last champion, dropped their half of the champion's corpse and stared at one another for a brief moment.

It didn't matter who struck first, Fate knew. So when a fight between opposing scouts led to first blood, it began.

Maou, not able to calm his districts' rage, had no choice but to officially declare war against his sister, Kami.

Kami, unable to rein her people properly, was forced to declare war against her brother, Maou.

Earth was the battlefield where this war was to take place, and humanity, weakened by boundaries between nations with no one to unite them was completely unprepared for the nightmare that followed.

Both realms targeted human populations first, claiming nations as their own, harvesting the human's souls to strengthen their troops before they engaged one another. Hundreds of millions of human lives were lost within a couple of days of their campaign.

Humanity wasn't able to muster a counterattack, crippled with fear by the dual presence of something greater than they were.

Hell's outlook on humanity stayed the same: Weak, pathetic.

Heaven laughed at the human worms beneath their heels, just as they expected.

Within a year since the war started, all human civilization was reduced to ash. Every last human was hunted down and harvested.

Humanity… has failed.

…and Fate, utterly disgusted by this route, decided her children needed to survive to avoid this outcome. Leaving this route, Fate jumped back to the pivotal moment where that route could be avoided and made sure their kunai could sustain the hit.

[Fate Has Reverted]

*clang-clang!*

At that instant, Shikamaru's last teleportation seal activated on the kunai, allowing him and Shino the chance to intercept Zabuza's attack. With the bloodied kunai ready, Shikamaru teleported in front of Hana, pulling her closer as he used the kunai to try and stop the attack as he kneeled. Shino did the same as the kunai he had used to deal with Gatō and his men was used to try and save Tenten.

When Hana and Tenten opened their eyes, they found that they had not died and were more surprised to see Shikamaru and Shino, respectively, kneeled down in front of them as they had not noticed the duo move.

"S-Shino…?"

"Nara, are you…?"

Their heads were facing down as their bodies went limp. Shikamaru and Shino's hands relaxed, letting go of the kunai's broken hilt. The broken hilt joined the broken fragments of steel underneath them. The smell of freshly spilled blood stained the area.

The girls looked down at their bodies to see their left (Shikamaru) and right (Shino) sides cleaved by the massive swords.

"SHINO!"

"NARA!"

[Fate Continues As Planned]

Fate nodded, knowing full well that they needed to survive this skirmish to avoid a most undesirable future.

And as such, Fate will continue to look over her children, who she favors more than anything else.

[]~[]~[][x][]~[]~[]

Please Review.