Herald of the End Chapter 54: Darkness Rises, a naruto fanfic

You guys are amazing.

I apologize for the long wait for this chapter. Work has been...long and I haven't had much time to write. But, there's good news. Overall, things have settled back down again, and hopefully I will have more time to write now.

AU Changes: None specifically for this chapter.

And without any more delay, here is the next chapter. Chapter 54: Darkness Rises

Homura woke to the sound of thunder.

Snapping awake, he reached for the nightstand where his glasses rested. His arm hit air. Rolling over onto his right side to squint in the dim orange light streaming in from the windows, his stomach dropped out of his chest as he reached the edge of the bed before he was expecting it. Instinctively flailing out for something to grab onto as he fell, he hit the floor less than a second later.

Wincing as he stood up slowly - his pride hurt more than his body, to think that someone of his skill level had fallen out of bed - Homura squinted in the dim light. Making out the blurry shape of his glasses on the nightstand, he stepped forward and picked them up. Sliding them on, he blinked, adjusting to the abrupt change in vision. Now that he could see properly, he glanced towards the far wall opposite the bedroom window. He could have sworn that he saw movement.

The shadows painted on the wall by the orange and red light shifted and flickered. The realization slammed into Homura like a speeding fist.

Fire.

There was fire outside. Spinning back towards the nightstand, he snagged the kunai resting on it and hurried to the window. He peered out. It was like a scene from his darkest nightmares. Shattered buildings and broken walls cast savage shadows, standing out in contrast to the distant shapes battling for their lives. Smoke and ash drifted in the air, cast adrift by wind and heat generated not by nature, but by man. "Who has dared to attack the Leaf?"

Sprinting to the hall closet, the elder ninja threw it open and grabbed his weapon pouch. Hurriedly changing into his combat outfit, he charged out the front door and into the madness. In the distance, an explosion lit up the sky with a resounding boom. That was where the enemies were. Pulsing chakra into his legs, old instincts from the war flaring, Homura charged towards the attack. He would defend the Leaf.

Charging past the broken buildings he forced himself not to turn aside to look. The dead would be mourned, but it was more important to save the living; to drive the invaders back. The landscape blurred past, and for the briefest moment, all of the aches and pains from age faded away. For that timeless instant, he was the young ninja that he had once been, charging to save his home.

Then the pain kicked in. Stumbling as he skidded to a stop, Homura fought against the burning in his side, gasping for air. The stinging of the chakra points on his legs. The way his heart thudded in his chest, threatening to break free. The way his lungs stranded for air. The way his hip creaked and groaned.

It would be fine to rest, the small traitorous voice whispered, let them come to you. Your time is over. Let the new generation take over, they were young and foolish. It would be better that they die, than for wisdom to parish. For the Leaf to survive, blood must be spilled, and would it not be better for those who could not understand that truth to die? Just...rest. Homura sagged, his knees hitting the dirty street.

Unbidden, the words of Naruto Uzumaki's letter played in his mind.

"...I will protect those I care about…"

Brown eyes snapped open, narrowing behind glass.

"...I will protect those I care about no matter the cost."

A hand planted against cold, unforgiving ground. Teeth gritted, bared in a snarl against the quiet, seductive voice that whispered that he could rest; that he could give in.

"...We have established ourselves as protectors of the innocent, our families, and those we care about…."

Homura pushed against the pain and stood. He moved forward, slowly at first, teeth gritted against nature; against old age; against himself. His stride quickened to a walk. Then a jog. Then a run. Then, with a burst of chakra, a charge. "I will protect the Leaf from her enemies." It was a promise to both himself and the world.

The shine of a blazing fire caught his eyes first. Pushing himself harder, Homura skidded around a broken wall and into a nightmare. Shattered glass glinted in the firelight, slowly being stained red by the bodies scattered around the area. The merchant hall that had bustled mere hours before now burned, hungry flames consuming all within.

The crackling of the flames echoed in the still courtyard. "Who did this?" This was different from the war long ago that he had grown up in. "Why did they do this? What purpose did all of this pain serve?" A low sob shocked Homura out of his stupor. Spinning to locate the sound, he strained to hear the sound again.

The sob rang out again, quiet and stifled. Hurrying forwards towards the sound and the crackling flames, Homura dared to hope.

Scrambling over a broken section of the tower, the older ninja quickly scanned the area. There were at least ten to twelve civilians scattered in the small clearing. There was a large, vertical half-sphere made of rock that faced the building. From the angle, it was created by a ninja, presumably in an attempt to protect themselves and the civilians. A quick second glance located the ninja. The sphere had cracked at some point during the explosive attack on the tower, blasting the ninja into the wall. The bloody pile they had left behind didn't give any hope to Homura. It was a pity that the ninja had died. He would need to find out who had done this after the civilians were safe.

The sob of pain broke his concentration, reminding him why he had arrived in the first place. Hopping of the small outcrop, he raced over to the massive pile of rubble where the sound was coming from. Dropping to his knees, he dug through the stone and wood, searching for the sound's origin. If he could find someone, anyone, who was still alive, he would know who had done this. Why the enemy had attacked. Who had caused so much suffering.

Slashes of pain dimly registered as he dug, the sounds getting louder and louder. Moans and cries began to filter in. Brushing away the final shards of wood, Homura stared down at the section of stone that lay between him and his goal. Roughly calculating the size and mass, he figured it was rather considerably heavy. Still, he was a ninja, and chakra allowed a skilled shinobi to do things that a normal civilian would deem impossible. Wiping his grime-covered gloves on his pants, he distantly noted the stinging as he flexed his hands. Crouching down, he gripped the stone slab's edge, feeling it bite into the combat gloves. Cycling chakra into his arms, hands, back, and legs, he lifted.

It was heavier than he expected. Grunting, he strained, feeling something in his back tighten. The cries from beneath the slab grew louder. "I won't let them die." His arms began to tremble. Sparks of electric pain raced up and down his hands.

Abruptly the load lessened. Snapping his head over to his right, he stared at his old teammate standing beside him, her face set. Her worn leather combat gloves gripped the stone slab. Glancing at him, she nodded. He nodded back and surged chakra once again to his aching muscles. Together Homura and Koharu lifted the stone and shoved it off to the side. It hit the ground with a heavy, ground-shuddering thud.

Catching their breath, both aging ninja peered down into the newly revealed hole. Ten scared faces stared back. "Are...are you here to rescue us?"

The civilians had not escaped the blast without injury. Some had only deep cuts and bruises, but most had broken bones or bleeding wounds. One man had taken head trauma and wasn't waking to stimuli. It had taken Koharu and Homura almost twenty minutes to pull all of the civilians out of the hole. Twenty minutes, and no help had came. Twenty minutes, and the battles raged just outside of visual range.

During that time, the survivors had told what little they knew. According to them, there was an explosion from inside the tower, which devastated it. An unnamed ninja had acted quickly, pushing all of the civilians into a specific area, and had then created the hole for them to take cover in. There was a secondary explosion, and then the hole had been sealed off.

The information wasn't terribly useful, and provided more questions than answers. How had the bombs been placed? Had they been infiltrated by an enemy force before now? If so, why would they have sprung the attack now? Wouldn't it have been better to distribute more bombs first? And more importantly, why here? The merchant hall had no specific military significance. Why here?

Tearing off another section of his sleeve, Homura began to bandage a cut on one of the civilian's legs, his hands moving on autopilot as he pondered how he and Koharu could move the civilians to a safe area - if there was one - given that most of them could not walk without assistance. Leaving them here would make them easy prey for the enemy, and leaving people behind was not a decision made on a whim.

The sound of someone landing in the clearing echoed a split moment before their shout finished off the relative quiet that had fallen in the courtyard. "What faction are you part of? Tell me!"

Tightening the bandage, Homura glanced at Koharu and met her eye. She nodded slightly. Homura stood with his back still facing the voice. Palming a kunai and sliding it up his remaining intact sleeve, he turned to face the enemy.

The young man was in his late twenties, or perhaps his early thirties. He was wearing a combat vest typically worn by Chunin and was pointing a short sword directly at Homura. More importantly, he was wearing a Konoha headband.

"I said, what fucking faction are you apart of!"

Taking a step forward into the light, Homura saw the ninja's eyes widen before he lowered the sword. "Sorry about that sir. I didn't realize it was you." He glanced around the area, "This seems like a defensive spot for a break." He raised his hand and sharply gestured forward. Five more ninjas stepped out the shadows and took up defensive positions around the courtyard.

"Report." Perhaps this ninja knew what was going on? There was a nagging sense that he already knew the truth, but it sat just out of reach. "What is the current situation? Who is attacking us?"

"It's those damn Humanitarians and Guardians." The ninja spat in the mud, "As far as we can tell, they planted the bombs. We aren't sure how long the've been planning this, but…" He spat again before angrily gesturing at the surrounding area, "...they obviously decided to stop hiding in the shadows."

Taking a deep breath and shoving down the internal horror that he felt at revelation that the civil war he had feared had come, Homura nodded and gestured at the civilians he and Koharu had been helping. "My teammate and I just rescued these civilians. Where is the nearest safe location we can take them?"

"Hmmm…" The Loyalist tapped his chin in thought, "I don't know of any place off hand, but I'm certain that the Hokage's tower will have a bunch of Loyalists. We should be able to run into other Loyalists on the way there."

"Incoming!" The shout of warning from one of the other Loyalists on the outskirts of the courtyard brought the conversation to a screeching halt. Spinning to face him as they drew their weapons, they watched him leap away from a enemy ninja who charged from around the corner. The enemy pressed the attack, and the sound of metal clashing against metal rang out like a signal.

More enemies charged out of the darkness. Five, perhaps ten? Dodging out of the way of a thrown kunai with more agility then he remembered having only a few hours ago, Homura sped through the hand motions for a simple fire jutsu and breathed outwards, sending the fireball at his attacker. The attacker dived out of the way, and the aging ninja stopped trying to count the enemies and simply focused on surviving.

Combat seemed to last a lifetime and take mere moments at the same time. Blood stained his left sleeve and hand, and it was hard to tell if it was his, or his enemies. Sweat stung his eyes, and his body ached from the exertion. With a pang of shame, Homura realized that he felt more alive than he had in years. Glancing at Koharu, he could see that she felt the same. Wet crimson was splattered across her face, but judging by the lack of pain on her face, it wasn't her's. The kunoichi swiped a distracted arm across her face, wiping away most of the blood, and in that moment, Homura was reminded of the fierce kunoichi from so long ago.

Shaking his head to rid it of the brief, unprofessional thought, he took stock of the situation. All attackers had been killed, but it had been with a high price. Four of the six Loyalists had been killed. It would be much harder to move the civilians, but it could be done through the use of elemental clones. It would be risky to spend so much chakra, but there wasn't a real viable alternative. If he, Koharu, and the remaining two Loyalists created two clones each, they could carry the civilians to safety.

"Fuck." It wasn't the most professional term, but Homura couldn't disagree with the Loyalist's statement. "Just...fuck." Sighing, the ninja whispered another expletive under his breath before turning to Homura. "Alright. We need to move out before any more of the Humanitarians show up." Muttering something under his breath, he continued. "If the four of us push ourselves we shouldn't hopefully run into any more Humanitarians or Guardians along the way."

Homura nodded before pausing. Going over the man's words again in his head, he couldn't find the part where the civilians were mentioned. It was probably implied though. Perhaps the Loyalist simply didn't know the best method for transporting them and didn't want to say anything? Pride was something that younger ninja indulged in.

"I believe the best method for transporting the civilians is to create two solid clones each." Homura offered, "That way each of us does not have to expend a large amount of chakra, and we can defend them as we make our way to the safe zone."

"We...aren't taking them with us." The Loyalist wouldn't look him in the eye. "They would slow us down too much." Letting out an explosive sigh at the look on Homura's face, the ninja elaborated. "Look. I don't want to abandon them any more than you do. But the reality is that right now, the Leaf needs us. We are more valuable than the civilians, and they will be remembered as necessary sacrifices. If they're lucky, they'll run into the Guardians. The Guardians probably won't harm them, and we're lucky, that'll slow the Guardians down enough that any other Loyalists will be able to take them down."

"Necessary sacrifices?" Koharu practically hissed as she stepped up to stand next to Homura, "These are people who need our help. Without our help, they are going to die. Our first missions is to protect the Leaf, and everyone within who cannot defend themselves."

"The Leaf cannot fall to traitors." The Loyalist snarled back, "As long as one Loyalist still stands, we have won. Any sacrifice is acceptable to ensure that the Leaf does not fall."

"That is in war." Homura evenly returned, "This is not war. This is…" He shook his head, "...This is something more terrible. The enemy is within, not without. Look at them." The authority in his voice pushed the Loyalist to turn towards the civilians, "Look at them. They are the reason we fight. We fight because there are those at home. We fight so that they don't have to. We fight," He indicated a mother and her child, "So they can live to see another day."

The Loyalist glanced down and turned away. For a long moment he was quiet. Then, he spoke, his words heavy but resolute. "The Leaf must survive." Koharu scoffed, the noise equal parts disgusted and resigned. "You know," He glanced at Koharu and Homura, "You two just sounded like Guardians just now…"

"Perhaps…" Homura glanced at Koharu. She nodded. "Perhaps...that is not a bad thing." The ninja shook his head sadly and walked away, leaving the two elder ninja. He spoke to the other ninja who nodded and packed up his weapons. As the two Loyalists prepared to move out, the ninja turned to Homura one last time in an unspoken question.

Homura shook his head. The Loyalists turned and vanished into the night.

The shadows were both an ally and an enemy. An ally, hiding Homura, Koharu, their clones, and the civilians from sight. An enemy, cloaking any potential enemies from Homura's gaze. Such was the nature of darkness.

Hurrying ahead of the group, Homura peered around the corner, checking for the enemies. Raising his hand when he determined that the coast was clear, he motioned to them that it was safe.

They had only encountered two enemies so far, and both of the enemies had been dealt with relative ease. If Homura were to guess, both of the enemies were Genin-level of skill, despite being in their mid-twenties. Still, taking them out had cost precious Chakra that he or Koharu could ill-afford to spend.

Oddly, while neither Homura or Koharu were under any illusions that they had memorized every Leaf shinobi, both were fairly certain that they had never seen either of the ninja that had attacked them before. Even more strangely, the two ninja they had fought didn't wear their headbands.

A flash of movement was all the warning Homura got. Turning to face the movement, he instinctively twisted and brought his arms up to block the attack. Pain reverberated through his arms as the short sword slammed into the forearm metal bracers, and the force behind the strike shoved Homura to one knee. The enemy leaned forward, pushing against the thin metal plates separating the blade from Homura's skin. His headband glinted in the firelight.

"Die." It was a snarled mutter, and Homura cursed himself as he tried to figure out a way to survive. The ninja was young, and hadn't yet realized that he could slide the blade forward and down into Homura's skull. Not having the strength to force the blade back, nor the speed to slide it to the side and then counterattack, the older ninja was at the enemy's mercy. If only he had a hand free. If only…

Abruptly, the enemy broke off from the attack with a curse to swing at the air to the right. Metal clanged against metal as he deflected the shuriken that had been hurled at him by another. Homura, seeing his chance, sped through the hand-signs for a simple offensive Doton jutsu.

The enemy spun back around just in time to take an earthen spike to the stomach. It was a glancing blow, tearing through bone and muscle, but not enough to be a lethal strike. Thrown away in spray of crimson liquid, the enemy slid to a stop, clutching the gaping wound with a gasping, choked off scream.

Homura pushed himself off of the ground with a wince. Reaching down to pick up the short sword, he approached the enemy. It was standard procedure to finish off a wounded enemy so that they could not return to attack later. This was, after all, war. Civil war.

The flickering orange and red caught on the blade as he raised it, and in the reflected firelight, Homura saw a scared boy stare back. Fear reflected out of the young man's eyes as he stared up at the ninja who would kill him. But he did not beg.

Homura froze. This wasn't an enemy. This was a Leaf ninja. This was a bleeding fellow soldier. How could he have forgotten that? He lowered the sword and knelt forward, reaching out to the boy. "Lay still. I am no medic nin, but I may be able to stop the bleeding." His grip on the sword relaxed.

Like a striking viper, the young man lunged upwards, his arm snapping out. Agony seared through Homura's side. Slowly tilting his head downwards, he stared at the kunai shoved into his side, the handle clutched in the shaking hand of the boy. The hand tightened and drew back for another strike. Instincts took over, and Homura's sword flashed.

"Why?" Homura whispered to the youth, "Why did you attack me?"

The Humanitarian coughed, the warm liquid splattering against the older man's face. "I...w-" Another cough wracked form, "W-will….pro-" He writhed in pain, the sword having fully opened up his chest. There would be no saving him now. Tears fell from the young man's eyes. "Pproo..proteccct…" He bared his bloodied teeth against the sheer unrelenting agony. "Th..thos...those I...lo...loveee." The boy's head sagged back, his last breath leaving him.

Homura staggered back, staring at his blood covered hands. This wasn't war. There was nothing civil about this. This was just….

Madness.

The sound Koharu's footsteps neared. "Koharu," Homura turned to look at his partner, making no attempt to stop the tear that slid down his weathered cheeks, "There is something horribly wrong with our village."

"I know." Kuharu's voice was soft, "We need to find the Guardians. They are the only ones who aren't hunting and killing. Only defending themselves." Glancing at her shoulder, she shook herself, falling back on her training and pushing the horror back to be dealt with later. "We need to get the civilians to safety. I also need you to help bandage my wound."

"You are hurt?" Training refocused Homura, compartmentalizing his thoughts, "Where? What happened?"

"Shoulder wound. I was fighting another…" She struggled to find an appropriate word, "Humanitarian when I saw he had the upper hand with the sword against you. I did not have any ranged weapons to distract your enemy with, and my aim isn't good enough anymore with jutsu so I couldn't risk launching one." She winced as Homura began tying the bandage around her shoulder, "Luckily the kunoichi I was fighting launched a shuriken at me. The shock of letting it hit me gave me enough time to repurpose it for a distraction. After that, she was distracted when you hit him with your Doton Jutsu, and I…" Koharu swallowed, "I...did what I had to."

Homura straightened as he moved back from the bandaged wound, wincing as the wound in his side shifted. The wound was deep but thin, and it bled slowly. His muscles and clothing would somewhat keep it closed. It needed treatment, but it could wait. More importantly, there was no bandages left. The time it would take to undress, treat the wound, and redress was more time than they could afford.

Glancing back at the civilians held up by his and Koharu's elemental clones, he carefully shifted to point his bleeding side away from Koharu. It was perhaps foolish, and might cost him his life, but those civilians mattered more. He could see it in their eyes, the fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of what had happened, fear of a world that suddenly wanted them dead.

But that wasn't all that was in their eyes. Strength, faint but present, also shined through. When one of them would cry out in pain or start sobbing, the others would direct the clones carrying them close, and they would comfort them, even though their injuries were just as severe. Already the civilians were scanning the area, instinctively looking for danger. It was encouraging, but...yet...there was this...unnamable feeling that he felt as he watched them. Perhaps the feeling was...sadness?

Pushing the feeling aside, he raised his hand, drawing the civilians' attention. Slicing his hand forward, he informed his civilians that they would be moving out. Abruptly a cry of warning from one of them shattered the quiet. "Look out!" Turning in time to see a flash of orange and red, all Homura and Koharu could do was dive to the side.

Their world exploded in heat and pain.

Koharu awoke with a shudder, her ears ringing. Pain surged through her shoulder, and without having to look, she knew she was bleeding through the bandage. Pushing herself up on her good shoulder, she snapped her gaze around, looking for the enemy. They were there, perhaps forty feet away. Five of them, in the prime of their lives and looking rather well rested. Their casual stroll towards her, Homura, and the civilians was infuriating. The leader of the five's mouth opened, but all the older kunoichi could hear was the ringing and the sound of her own breath.

Movement to her right broke her attention. Homura was struggling to stand, a wound in his side gushing blood. He tried to stand once, twice. It would not be a crime to lay down and let the pain take her away. She had done her best. Homura had done his best. They were old, and no longer fit for battle. It would be so easy to let it all just fade away; to fall back into the painless dark.

"No." Koharu shoved downwards with her palm, slowly gathering her feet under her. "Not yet." Beside her, Homura struggled to his knees, his hand reaching out to grasp the hilt of the sword. "I will not sleep. I will not rest. Not until…" The kunoichi rose, her partner beside her. "Not while they are unprotected. Not until they are safe." Reaching up to the combat hair bun, she tugged the decorative senbon out. "They will not harm them, not while I still draw breath." Homura leveled the sword at the enemies, and Koharu flipped the senbon to a reverse grip. "I will protect."

The enemy leader rolled his shoulders and reached for the sword at his side. Grasped the handle. And pulled, freeing the blade with casual slowness. Glancing at Homura, Koharu saw him nod. They would buy time for the civilians to escape. It would be a good death, one that mattered.

"Come on," Tayuya Uzumaki sped overtop of the ruined building, vaulting over sections where the roofs had caved in or a jutsu had blown a hole in it. It was hard to believe that in a few short, frantic hours this much damage had happened, but whoever had set off those bombs had ignited the preverbal explosive tag, and everyone was lashing out.

"Fuckers." The Uzumaki aimed the insult at the world at large. "Murdery fuck faces." With the attacks, the Guardians were scrambling to recover. Most of the surviving Guardians had assembled near the Uzumaki compound, and then from there, their orders had been handed out. Those who could not fight assisted Tsunade with the wounded, those who knew or were skilled at Doton jutsu began assembling a wall to keep the attackers at bay. Fu had been assigned to assist in putting the fires out, the concept of such a massive betrayal nearly crippling the normally happy girl. Those who were strong and capable were sent out in small squads to recover, protect, and escort any Guardians, civilians, or innocents caught in the crossfire.

Tayuya's squad had found a small group of civilian Guardians trapped by debris, and after freeing them, started escorting them towards the safety of the compound. Tayuya had pressed on. She would link up with the Inuzuka squad at the Konoha First Hospital that was gathering supplies and, more importantly, anyone who was still there. A flash of light and a resounding BOOOM caught her attention. Pausing, she glanced towards the direction of the hospital and then back at the direction the sound had come from.

"Dammit!" She charged towards the sound.

Koharu's head snapped back with a crunch as the enemy's fist plowed into it. Staggering back, she whipped the hairpin to the side, hoping; praying she would hit him. It hit nothing but empty air. A foot slammed into her side, breaking the already cracked ribs. Crumpling to the side, the kunoichi gasped and bit her tongue, tasting iron. She would not give them the satisfaction of hearing her scream.

It was utter agony to push herself back up to her feet, broken bone grinding against broken bone. A trembling hand clutched the hairpin. She would not yield. Not now, not ever. The enemies laughed, the sound distorted and muffled. Out the corner of her eye she saw Homura heave himself to his feet again, his glasses long gone and one eye sealed shut with blood.

The enemy seemed to shift and bend as he charged towards her, the movement both impossibly fast yet slower than thick soup. Thick soup? The thought was practically absurd, and she fought the urge to giggle at it. Thick soup? What would she think of next?

The enemy was suddenly in front of her, and Koharu lashed out, the hairpin aimed at his heart. He turned, and she missed.

Staggering with what little momentum she had mustered, the world spun and swayed. Planting her feet on the rolling ground, she could only start to twitch at the movement towards her when a dull source of pain radiated from her chest. Belatedly, she realized she was flying backwards. The ground drove the air from her aching lungs when she slammed into it. Gasping for air, she could only watch as the victorious enemies strolled towards her. Just a little way off, Homura coughed, the sound unnaturally loud. Dark crimson droplets splattered the dusty street. He made it one step forward, one step closer to Koharu, almost close enough to touch, before he tumbled to the ground.

Noises warped and twisted, and for a moment, Koharu swore that she heard the sound of an army charging past. Bemused, she watched clones of herself and her teammate rush by. Clones. What would she think of next?

Then, gravel crunched beside her, and she tilted her head to the side, dull pain echoing with the movement, and watched the civilians - they looked familiar. Why did they look familiar? - step past her and Homura's prone forms. Some were leaning on others, propping each other up. Others carefully balanced on a good leg, or held a limb close as they shuffled past. Then...as the last clone was finished off, they all stopped. Straightened. Stood shoulder to shoulder, a wall between the monsters and the helpless.

One of them raised a sword, hand trembling, and pointed it at the oncoming monsters. "Stay away from them." Their hand and voice shook. "We won't let you hurt them anymore." But beneath that fear...resolve. Courage. Strength.

The enemies glanced at one another before shrugging. They took a step forward, dark amusement flashing across their faces.

Then...there was music.

The sound swept across the battlefield like a wave.

For the civilians, the music was a sweet lullaby, reminding them of home. They found their eyes growing heavier, and they carefully lowered themselves to the ground, peacefully drifting off to sleep.

Homura and Koharu found themselves relaxing, pain dulling and headaches easing. It reminded them of when they were Genin, and Jonin had arrived to save the day. Their part was done, they could relax.

For the others...the enemies...they heard an eldritch wail. The noise crawled down their spines, drowning out any thought but sheer, unrelenting terror. Breath quickened. Hearts began to pound. Faster and faster. Unnamable horror was creeping down, oozing through the ears, scratching at the doors of sanity. The sound grew louder and louder. The notes of doom was all they could hear now. There was no hope.

Gasping for breath, one of the ninja dropped his head to stare at the kunai clutched in his shaking hand. The noise needed to stop. Had to stop. Must stop.

Hadtomuststopstopstopstopstop.

He lifted the kunai.

Stopstopstopstopmakeitstopstopstopstop.

Brought it to his throat.

Stopstopstopstopstopneedtomakeitstopstop.

The blade slid across his flesh, and he found relief. Darkness; blissful, quiet darkness took him.

The thud of a body behind him jerked one of the other ninja's out of his stupor. Spinning around, he beheld the sight of his comrade laying in the bloody street, his throat opened up and the kunai still clutched in his hand. "Oh Kami." He breathed, "Oh shit." Music stopped. The smell of burning flesh wafted past. Blinking, he turned around, raising his sword. Flickering orange caught his eye. Glancing down he stared at the smoke wafting off of his arm. Memories and buried fear of fire flickered. Instinctive panic set in. Dropping the sword, he slapped at the smoke. The fire glowed and burned, burning from the bone outwards.

"Oh shit oh shit ohshitohshitshitshitshit…" Pain seared through his blood, charing muscle and blackening bone. "Ohgodohgod." Smoke curled from his left arm. "Nononononono-..." A sword carved into his shoulder, slamming into the bone with a wet thunk.

"You won't get me!" Another ninja ripped his sword out of the undead monster, "You won't take me." Behind him, another ninja, formerly his teammate, lay dead. "The other one was gunna take me, but I got him first!" Another swing, and the undead monster staggered back. "I'll take you all!" Another hack into the creature. Another and another. The body fell. Lungs heaving for air, he turned to survey the area for more enemies. Agony speared through him.

Slowly tilting his head downwards, he stared at the sword sticking through his chest. He turned to look over his shoulder at his killer. A monster, pale and rotted, stared back.

The leader of the five ninja tore his sword out of the man's back. "Goddamn Genjutsu." He spat before turning to stare up at the three girls standing on the edge of the building overlooking the battle. They were copies of each other, each holding a flute. They had undoubtedly killed his men. While the men were missing nin like himself, they didn't deserve to die like that. What was so wrong with wanting to get paid?

"Payback time Bitch." Flexing his hand on his sword grip, the leader charged forwards. Chakra channeled through his feet, and he sprinted up the short distance of the wall, leaping up and onto the roof. Sweeping his sword out, he swung for the red-haired kunoichi's neck.

Violet chakra flames burst out and cloaked around Tayuya's flute as she pulled it from her lips, spinning it in her right hand. Deflecting the sword strike with the chakra enhanced instrument, she spun to the left, ducking under his recoiling arm. Her foot slammed into the back of his knee, sending him tumbling to the floor. Unsealing a senbon with a flick of her wrist, she sent it at the back of his head. There was no way she could miss.

The unmistakable thud of a dead body hitting the ground snapped Koharu and Homura out of their relaxed state. Blinking as they leaned upwards, they couldn't help but stare at the peacefully sleeping civilians and the dead bodies of the ninjas who had attacked them.

"Hey." Tayuya dropped into the street, "Don't die on me. I signalled for help. Just stay alive until they arrive. It shouldn't take long." Drowsiness tugged on Koharu's eyelids. "Hey. Did I fuckin' stutter? Stay. Awake." Painless dark beckoned. "Damnit. How did Haku say to bandage people again?" Blissful unconsciousness took Koharu.

Help arrived within five minutes. The Guardians, having been signalled by Tayuya, quickly moved out, taking the civilians, Koharu, and Homura with them. There had been enough death, and the Guardians would ensure that they survived.

"It'll be alright." Taro quietly assured his family as they sat in the basement of their home, "It will be alright." The leader of the Civilian Council was certain they would be safe. The missing ninja and mercenaries that they had contracted and smuggled into the village would protect them from the Loyalists' and Guardians' wrath.

There was three missing nin stationed in the living room above them, and he was certain that he and his family would be safe. "Come now," He did his best to smile at his only son, "The tea will be cool enough to drink in a few minutes, and then we will all have a nice relaxing drink."

The door was wooden, solid. Useful to block projectiles, but the intricate swirls and stained glass compromised any structural integrity it may have had. Number Thirty-Six carefully sent out a flicker of chakra, instructing the insects within with a single formed image. With a near soundless flutter of wings, the specialized beetles left the masked man's sleeve and headed towards the door.

Forming another series of hand-signs, Number Thirty-Six closed his eyes and breathed out. Breathing in, he opened his eyes, no longer seeing the dark alleyway where he and his two squad-mates waited, but seeing instead through the compound eyes of one of his beetles.

Guiding the insect to the door, he had it land on the window. He peered inside. There were three missing ninjas inside, two male and one female, each with their weapons drawn. One held a sword loosely, while another had a war fan, and the last had a large shuriken clasped in one hand.

Number Thirty-Six breathed out and closed his eyes again. Within a few minutes he had scouted out the entire house, determining that a window on the second story was unlocked and free of traps or seals. Retracting his chakra and mind from his beetles, he turned to the other two masked shinobi and gave them a report with several quick, concise hand gestures. They nodded and blurred to the wall. Their footsteps were silent as they walked up the wall, practically ghosts as they neared the window.

Standing horizontally on the wall, Number Forty-One eased the window up slightly. He fed a small seal paper through the crack he had opened in the window. Once it was halfway inside the window sill, he tapped it, sending a pulse of chakra through it. The sound of the battles in the village abruptly cut off. The window did not make a sound as he raised it the rest of the way.

Slipping inside, he blurred to the end of the short hallway, keep an eye out for enemies as he waited for the rest of the squad to enter. Within moments they were at his side. Raising two fingers, he rotated them in a small circle before curling the hand into a fist. Reaching back, he drew the short tanto from its sheathe at the small of his back. The blade had been dusted black, reflecting no light. As one, the squad blurred down the steps.

The missing nin barely had time to react as the three shinobi descended on them. The two males died before they could turn, and the female's scream was muffled by a hand as the blade gutted her. The bloody blade ended her life with the second thrust.

Easing the dead bodies to the ground, they quickly moved towards the center of the home. Upon reaching the living room, they located the basement door a moment later. Freezing as footsteps moved up the basement stairs towards the door in front of them, the three shinobi ducked behind the furniture. A minute later the door opened and a woman moved into the living room. The small candle she carried illuminated her features enough for Number Forty-One to identify. It was their target's wife, Kauri.

Kauri moved to the kitchen, the candle light becoming stationary as she placed it down to search for something in the cabinet. "Honey…." She absently murmured to herself, her eyes searching for the glass bottle filled with the golden sugar her son so loved, "...Where did you get stored?" It was one of her pet peeves for items to not be placed back in the same spot. It wasn't hard. Just...put it back where it belonged after you used it. Closing the cabinet door, she reached out and opened the second.

"Ah, there you are." Spotting the honey, she reached out.

A gloved hand clamped over her mouth and a blade was buried in her heart. Thrashing in the iron grip, Kauri tried to scream, but all that came out was a muffled whimper. The blade twisted, and she knew no more. Number Forty-One laid the dead target down and moved over to the candle, lifting his mask slightly. A quick huff of directed air, and the room plunged into the dark once more.

"What's taking Mom so long to get back with the honey?" Toro clutched the teacup close, "I wanna drink my tea." The six-year-old didn't fully understand what was happening, but he was certain that it was bad. He had been awoken by the sound of thunder, bigger than any storm he could remember, and was quickly moved to the basement by Miss Triua, one of the guards who had been assigned to his home.

Toro liked Miss Triua. She, when not on guard duty, had played with him sometimes. Once, she had even shown him a small jutsu she could do with her war fan. Miss Triua was a kunoichi, he was sure of that. She was on a secret mission to watch his family. Being the wise age of six, the boy knew enough of ninja to know that they only took their headbands off when they went on secret missions. The sounds outside were scary, but with Miss Triua watching him, he was safe.

Turning towards the stairs to look for his mother again, he was startled to see three ninjas dressed in black and wearing white masks swoop down the stairs. Were they on a secret mission too?

All it took was a grab and a twist for Number Thirty-Six to eliminate the primary target, the old man's neck snapping with a wet snap. Number Forty-One approached the final target who was frozen in fear. The tanto sliced through the air, and the teacup went tumbling towards the ground.

Ignoring the crash as it shattered against the ground, Number Forty-One swept his gaze over the dead targets one final time before following his squad back up the stairs. Danzo-Sama would be pleased. The operation was proceeding smoothly. Long live the Leaf.

"Just a little bit faster." Jiraiya's cloak flutter violently in the wind generated by his speed, "You're almost there." Fatigue weighed down his eyelids and made thinking slightly difficult. Suppressing another yawn, he pushed himself to keep the current brutal pace. He had run through the night, only stopping for a small break when he needed a moment to rest his aching limbs.

His lungs burned, reminding him that he was not as young as he once was. The Sannin ignored it. He had been too late far too many times, and this time he would not allow anything to stop him from saving those he cared about. He had been too late for Dan Kato, ultimately prompting Tsunade to leave the Leaf for many years. He had been too late for Minato and Kushina, arriving after they had been killed. He had been too late for Hiruzen, unable to do anything in the end but ease his old teacher's passing. And Naruto...how many times had his lateness cost his godson?

"No more." It was a promise he had made that day when he had finally understood what Naruto had gone through, what he could have prevented if he had only been the godfather Minato and Kushina thought he would have been. He would not be late. Not this time.

Bursting through the final treeline, Jiraiya skidded to a stop, his heart following. Black smoke hung over the village like a shroud in the midday light. Distant wails of a siren drifted through the air. The Sannin was moving before he was truly aware that he was, his tiredness forgotten as he raced towards the gates. "No. Nonono."

Two bodies lay just outside of the partially open gates. A hurried glance as he moved past them informed the spymaster that they had been taken out by an arrow. His gaze hardened. Missing nin. They had done this. He swept pass the bodies and though the gate. The moment his foot touched the street, he spotted a flicker of movement. Chakra surged, and he was already ten feet past the gate when the arrow slammed into the gate. Locating the missing nin standing on top of a nearby roof in an instant, the Sannin was gone in blur of white and red.

Hurling himself over the edge of the roof, his hand flexed. Blue rotating chakra spun to life. A single glance located the archer plus three more enemies, and none of them had headbands on. Jiraiya shot forward. The missing nin began turning, but was far too slow to save himself.

The Rasengan slammed into the mercenary's side, instantly grinding away flesh and bone. The Sannin spun away from the dying man and took three quick steps. Grabbing the kunoichi's arm, he twisted it, snagging the dagger she dropped out of the air. The dagger sped upwards, opening her throat. Hurling the bloody weapon into the third nin, Jiraiya smacked the fourth ninja's fist out of the way and slammed his knee into the mercenary's stomach, doubling the man over. Stepping forward, the Sannin grabbed the back of the man's head and slammed him to the ground. The missing nin's skull made a dull crack when it rebounded off of the roof, and he went limp.

Jiraiya leapt off the building, rolling as he hit the ground. The stench of blood, death, bodily waste, and smoke choked him. Coughing, he stumbled forward. His foot caught something on the ground, sending it skittering forward to rest against a shattered section of wall. Pounding his chest, the Sannin breathed out slowly, clearing his lungs. A section of the buildings was missing, almost like a house-sized ball of force had churned through it. Moving forward, he couldn't help the morbid curiosity that gripped him as he picked up the blackened item he had accidently kicked.

It was perhaps two inches long. The bottom of the item was flat except for the small areas that had been melted by an intense heat. Realization set in. It was a child's shoe.

"Oh god."

The Sannin went numb. Emotions shunted away, locked safely deep within. Carefully setting the item back down, he headed towards the Uzumaki Compound. He would find who had done this…and they would pay.

-Line-

"This place needs some art." Deidara muttered to himself as he watched the civilians mill about below his position on a roof overlooking the port. He and Sasori had arrived at the port the day before, and were currently waiting for Zetsu, the Atatsuki's top spy, to report in. The white half of the plant-like man claimed to be following up on a lead, and so they waited.

The urge to unleash a explosive on the unsuspecting masses below was almost irresistible. To hear the glorious boom followed by the screams, which would invoke more explosions. It would be...art.

"Deidara." Sasori's flat, almost mechanical voice broke through the bomber's thoughts, "Zetsu has arrived." Deidara nodded and turned away from the edge of the building, following Sasori through the crowded streets. They eventually reached a small park, and standing next to a rather healthy-looking tree, stood White Zetsu.

The bone white man was wearing his normal cloak, the hooded robe concealing the grass-green hair and lone yellow eye. Half of Zetsu's face had been seemingly melted off, and had been that way since before Deidara and Sasori had met him for the first time. Turning his upper body to fully face the two Akatsuki while keeping his torso facing the tree, Zetsu waited three heartbeats before turning his lower half to face them. The look of discomfort on Deidara's normally smirking face made it all worth it.

"Hi." Zetsu waved, "I've got information for you two." His voice was higher pitched, almost like it was being forced through a hole slightly smaller than a normal throat. "It took a while, but we were able to locate a registry of Uzumaki's in Mist." The most disconcerting part about Zetsu was that he never blinked. "The record stated that two of them, a mother and a baby stayed in Mist for several years. About thirty years ago, a group of villagers found the mother dead inside the home. A section of the wall was missing beside her, and there was a hole in her chest."

"So who killed her?" Sasori wasn't interested in old history. However, depending on how the woman died, it could give them insight into their target's movement. Sentimentality was a common weakness.

"The autopsy report indicates that the attack came from behind." The spy reached out and plucked a rose from the ground. "The coroner suspected that the attack came from multiple chains." Zetsu's hand clenched around the thorns. "We also found that the woman's boy, Toshihiro, disappeared around the same time."

"So our target was a killer from early on." Deidara surmised, "That could explain why he was a bit...unhinged." He shrugged, "That's assuming, of course, that he's the same kid."

"We visited the grave of the woman." Zetsu bent down and sank a hand into the ground like it was water, not hard dirt. "We discovered that her ribcage had been shoved forward, and was missing a large section, just like in the report." Scooping the dirt to the side, he carefully placed the stem of the rose in the small hole he had made. "The bones were shattered outwards, which confirms she was attacked from behind. There were little notches on the sides of the bones that looked almost exactly like chain links."

"Huh." Deidara nodded to himself, "Looks like he did off her." His grin widened, "I really need to introduce him to my art." Glancing down at the flower Zetsu planted, he blinked. The flower petals spread, and two small leaves budded out the sides of the stem. A quick glance at Sasori indicated that the puppet master didn't see, or didn't care, about the phenomena. Zetsu stood, his hands retreating inside the cloak once again before his right hand reappeared, a map clutched in it.

"Here is the map to the location of the grave. We noticed that the gravestone was clean, and free of vegetation or dirt. Perhaps the person who cleans the gravestone knows where the target is?"

"Good job." Excitement pulsed though Deidara. It had been a long time since he had been able to cut loose and show the world true art in all of its majestic glory. But soon, he would be able to go all out...and it would be glorious.

So what did you think? Drop me a review and let me know.

To my reviews' direct questions:

Animaman: A group of ninja xmen would be pretty awesome, I have to admit. But Haku was more of explaining that she wanted to be there and protect people with powers/bloodlines who can't protect themselves. Sorta like a guardian angel in a way (not that she would ever think of herself as such).

REDD1997: You should find out a bit of what Danzo is up to this chapter.

Nin-Guest: It's alright. Assassin's Creed was great. But you are right. Julius Caesar wasn't...written very well. But the game made assassinating fun again, and that's what matters the most. And (almost importantly) the story didn't detract from the game. As far as Hinata's eyes go, don't worry. This isn't going to turn into a contest of who's eyes are the most overpowered. While I don't want to spoil anything, since every has "seen" Hinata's powerup, I can explain a bit more about it. Her eyes (when she activates their new ability) become quite literally "The All Seeing Eyes". A close analogy would be to legends of the "All Seeing Eye" or the "3rd Eye." However, it has some downsides. The chakra requirement is...hefty. Outside of battle, it's just a rather large, but manageable drain. In combat, where one false move could get her killed, consuming massive amounts of chakra could be a lethal mistake. There is a second downside, but I don't want to spoil that yet. I drew inspiration from the 3rd Eye ability from the Dresden Files series. She can't view herself, mostly because she already "knows" herself. The ability was, after a fashion, a stressed based evolution of her powers, powered by built up Kyuubi chakra and a bit of Shion's special chakra. I'm glad you picked up on the idea of masks, specifically related to Atsushi. He's...not a very nice person. I do enjoy my irony. And yeah, TV Tropes' Gambit Pileup is basically what's going on. Disturbed is one of my favorite bands, and "Who Taught You How to Hate" is one of their best ones. For better or worse, you'll be seeing Koharu and Homura this chapter.

Starfire99: The Hokage hadn't heard from Itachi in some time. On top of that, Itachi has been away for a few years. The nagging thought in the back of the Hokage's mind was: "What if Itachi was compromised?" If he was, it would end rather poorly for all involved (Other clans would start wondering if they were next for example). Sending the ANBU on the mission was a calculated risk. If Itachi was still loyal, he would find a way to send a message. If he wasn't at the camp, then his fear about false mission information would be correct. And if he killed all of the ANBU, then Itachi wasn't loyal anymore, and damage control would have to be planned. We know from canon that Itachi didn't give much information on the Akatsuki since the Leaf didn't have anything on them when they became a threat in canon later on.