(2023/01/31) Author's note: Hey everyone!

Updates appear to be semi-regular as I think I found my writing mojo again after months of feeling down on myself. Going back and seeing your comments on my fics really helps to boost my motivation to write and I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you who commented or messaged me about my fics. Comments and kudos are mood-boosters, so if you want to do those things it would make my day!

This chapter is a heavy read (7,000+ words) and shit hits the fan FAST. Nomasaki reconsiders revenge in this POV chapter, as I think it's essential to her character to sort out this part of her past and actions. Consequences will likely follow - so stay tuned for future chapters. Next chapter is a Gaara POV and will be up in 1-2 weeks, depending on my momentum.

I hope you enjoy this chapter! As always, thank you for reading xx

Song recommendation / / "Kvitravn" by Wardruna

Chapter 22
Nomasaki VI

Warmth.

Cold left her as Nomasaki slowly opened her eyes. A blurry wooden ceiling greeted her, and voices whispered a conversation she could not understand. She felt the comfort and warmth of pelts at her chin and could vaguely hear a roaring fire in the hearth. A throbbing in her forehead provoked her to shut her eyes tight, the dimmed sconces triggering the pain from a mere glance.

A migraine, she thought, I'm still alive… but that poison…- her head throbbed again.

She cursed under her breath, gnashing her teeth. At least she was alive to feel it, she reasoned. Her near-fatal brush with death left a mere headache, although her thigh still burned a dull ache. Forcing herself to sit up, Nomasaki eased from the futon and clasped her head with a lazy palm. It was then she realized she was no longer clothed in her hunting garbs and warm furs but a thin nightgown of wool in a deep blue shade.

"She's awake!" It was her father's voice. "Give her room!"

Groggily, she scanned the room for familiar faces. At her bedside, her father sat. His face was washed in relief, but dirt and scarce splatters of blood marred his chieftain's furs and haori. Ekashiba stood against the wall as if prepared to ward off an unknown assailant. Two spear-wielding guards were at the doorway, poised to strike if need be. Chakra began slowly returning to her senses, and Nomasaki soon sensed the discourse and panic that rumbled through the village. A healer was tending to other villagers and clansmen who were sprawled out, either injured or dying, on the other makeshift futons that dotted the main chamber of the chieftain's manse. Anger flared in her heart, her consciousness barely aware enough to take in all that was occurring around her.

Yamagakure was attacked.

Tenbu had returned once again.

The village was surely cursed in her eyes.

"We were wondering when you'd wake up," Her father spoke. His hazel eyes drained of sleep, and one hand remained firm on the hilt of his katana. "You've been out of it for nearly two days."

"Two days?" Nomasaki straightened her back, stiffness aching with every move. "What happened? The last thing I remember was… the assassin. They… sent a puppet to kill me. I was poisoned."

"Indeed, you were."

The healer's voice. Elderly, white of hair, but precise and firm in her practice. She was tending to the unconscious villager across from her, wrapping bandages around their mangled arm. From the look of her dark eyes, she must have healed a thousand men before today. Blood still made Nomasaki uneasy with fear and made the bile swirl in her stomach, but it seemed not to bother the elderly woman, even if the man's arm was shredded to pieces.

Nomasaki swallowed, her mouth going dry. "Then how am I still alive? Was there an antidote?"

"No antidote was needed, my lady," The healer shook her white head. "When Sana of the Kumatsume and the other clansmen recovered you near the plateau, you were unconscious with fever and had lost a great deal of blood. They followed the scent of blood to you."

A fever? Her memory was a blur.

All she knew was the snowy skies and the canopy she last saw before her eyes drifted into a darkened slumber. Dreams of the sacred forest and its meadow repeated vividly in her mind, the howls echoing as if they were from the wolves of her clan. Regret and fear were the last emotions she felt, regret that she could not live to see her son grow or be with her husband until they grew old with age. She thought it was her death. But, by some strange stroke of luck, she once again narrowly escaped her demise to live another day. How many of those she had left, Nomasaki was unsure.

Ekashiba scoffed. "…unfortunately, even a hasty cauterization in the wilds can't prevent infection."

Humour dared to curve itself on her lips, but the pain in her head and the burn of her leg took all willingness to scoff back. Still, confusion lingered. "But… how was I not poisoned?" She pressed, narrowing her glance. "I could feel it – the poison, coursing through me… I can't be imagining things, can I?"

"My lady, you were indeed poisoned," Ekashiba approached, his face slate-like. "However, it was ineffective against you, for a slither of tailed-beast chakra lurks beneath your skin." Surprise drained her face of reply, and Ekashiba nodded. His glance was steely and firm. "Even with my wits about me, I can smell it upon you – just faintly. Shukaku, the one-tail. Nothing like the Kazekage, it would seem."

Shukaku.

The faint memory of the beast's arm emerging from Gaara's sand struck her thoughts. Its claws pierced her, soaking the shoulder of her white tunic a deep, dark red. Her blood. It was years since the incident, and Nomasaki thought scarcely of it until Gaara noticed her scar a few months ago. She had not sensed a sliver of the beast's chakra since they gave the tanuki their goodbyes in the desert at the war's end. Doubt was in her mind, but her heart sank to the depths of her frantic chest.

Nomasaki's wide-eyed stare fell to her lap. "That's impossible…"

"Nomasaki-sama, that scar on your shoulder… that was from Shukaku, yes?" The healer entered, folding their wrinkled hands into the wide sleeves of their kimono. "Shukaku is known in the legends as being immune to all poisons of man. Even for a tailed-beast, its anti-poison properties are well documented by the ancient monks of Suna and the lands surrounding its ancient domain. Perhaps that protection was bestowed upon you when its claws made contact with your flesh."

Kyō and Ekashiba stayed silent after the healer spoke, but both looked at Nomasaki. She shuddered. Her nose fooled her all these years. Of all the fear she held towards the beast and the hatred it held in return – the tanuki saved her. She had grown accustomed to it, believing it to be hers in all the time that passed since then. A small fragment latched itself to her body, her skin.

It saved her in her dire moment of need – it protected her.

Shukaku saved my life… Gaara would get a kick out of this, I'm sure.

She looked to the healer, a soft smile of genuine gratitude laced on her lips. "…Thank you for healing me. I promise I'll be much more careful next time."

The healer bowed and stood to tend to the other wounded scattered throughout the large chamber. Her father eyed her concerningly. "Please rest," He said. "There's no rush to return to Sunagakure. Take all the time you need."

Chakra soon became clearer to her, her senses picking up the many life forces inside the manse and beyond. Fear struck her as she sensed a weak pulse of Sayuri's chakra across the room. Turning, she saw her handmaiden lying unconscious on a futon. Bandages were wrapped along her torso, and the others near her were injured just as badly or worse. Her heart sank.

"What happened to Sayuri?" She asked her father, urgency marking her expression. "Why are there so many people in the infirmary?"

"…We were attacked," He confessed, his exhale indicating all she needed to know. His hazel eyes glanced at the dozens of villagers tended to by the healers and medics throughout the hearth-hearted chamber. Nomasaki could start to smell the blood. "Likely by the same Tenbu agent who snuck through the forest to find you. Some of their friends managed to get in as well, it seemed. We were… careless. They sprang on us where we were our most vulnerable. The Yamamori Shrine and the heart of the market… they wanted to spill blood. That was their sole purpose."

A familiar chakra approached closer, and Nomasaki turned to see Sana's bright green eyes meet her stare. Her face was dirty and dry blood lingered at her lips, but she did not appear gravely injured. Although, as Nomasaki's glance drifted downward, she saw that her student was limping. Bandages as a splint were on her right leg. Fortunately, those were her only wounds.

Guilt swam into Nomasaki's throat. "Sana,"

Her student gave a firm glance towards them. "I managed to get one, but the second stabbed my leg. I was only lucky I was able to send for help once the bastard crashed through my barrier jutsu." She met Nomasaki's stare, her nostrils flaring. "As you said, Nomasaki-senpai, they were only puppets. But their chakra… I swore I sensed human on its scent."

"Sayuri was injured during the attack. Like you, she was poisoned." Kyō continued, drawing their gazes to the unconscious handmaiden who slept in cold silence. "But the healers say she'll be fine. The antidote needs time to run its course… don't worry yourself. The snow lilies of the mountain appear to have anti-poison properties, so our healers have been busy concocting as many antidotes as needed."

Nomasaki hung her head to her lap, clutching the blankets tightly in her hands. Emotions swirled in the pits of her stomach, but instead of bile, there was rage. Anger coursed through her veins, convincing herself that her fingernails might grow to claws and pierce the sheets. But guilt panged her, causing her eyes to become glossy with the tears that swelled in each blink. She shut her eyes tight, refusing to allow her emotions to grow further.

But… how did they find me? Nomasaki thought hard. Could they have been planning this? No, it was a clumsy attempt… Could they have been tracking me? She bit her lip. The latter seemed more than likely, but how – she could not say.

She took a careful breath, easing her grasp on the blankets. "It seems as if I bring misery with me everywhere I go… I'm sorry, father."

"Such is our fate as Yamagakure and the Land of Mountains." Kyō placed a strong hand on her shoulder, masking his uncertainty with a fatherly smile of promise. But Nomasaki could see where his confidence was shattered, and anger resided behind his weary hazel eyes. "But we will remain strong. We are people of the mountain, and we will not falter in the face of our enemies."

Nomasaki kept silent but nodded only once as she held her head down. Golden blonde hair curtained her expression from the room, for no one noticed the frown that cracked against her chapped lips. I hope you're right. It seems there are always enemies these days…

The cold winds suddenly ripped through the chamber.

When they turned, they saw a Yama-nin standing in the doorway. Their face was aghast, their eyes purple and flaring in urgency. "Kyō-sama! Something terrible has happened!"

"The front gates! Our scouts returned from our border!" Another entered beside his comrade, sword already in hand. "Please, quickly!"

Kyō rose to his feet. "More enemies?"

"No," The Yama-nin shook their head, shuddering in cold anguish and rage. "It's death."

A sinking feeling struck Nomasaki.

Watching her father start for Ekashiba, she propelled herself up on her weakened legs. She stumbled at first but regained her footing. Sana met her glance as if to say, 'Let's go', and when her father met her eyes, he closed his eyes and nodded. Weaving her way down the long corridor to her old room, she donned a warm embroidered kimono of blue and black wool pants and fur-lined boots. She did not bother with a cloak. The cold was the only thing that cut through to her, snapping her out of her unbridled rage. But whatever awaited them at the village gates, Nomasaki was certain it was an omen of dark tidings. So she instead wore a face of steel, hardening herself against whatever may lay waiting.

So she joined her father and Ekashiba on their escort to the village gates.

A wail from a young woman cut through the frigid mountain air when they arrived. Her screams were of pure anguish and grief, and sobs broke between each tremor while she clawed to get closer. She was held back by two Yama-nin, their faces grim and foreboding. Ekashiba immediately tensed beside her father and ran towards the commotion in the centre of the crowd. Nomasaki could sense the right-hand's chakra go feral – beast-like in both hatred and grief.

She froze.

The crowd cleared for the chieftain and his daughter, and the sight of a cart hauling a dead wolf made them halt upon the snow. A wolf. Arrows fletched with gold and brown feathers peppered its great body, dotting the beast in tendrils of deep crimson. Blood seeped from its open jaws, coating its glistening fangs of pure white daggers. The beast was as large as she once was in her eighteenth year – bigger than the wolves of the Land of Wind but smaller than the form she now possessed. Its fur was white as the snow of their mountain, and its eyes were glazed open, revealing a deep violet shade. It was a Yamamori clansman. Ekashiba collapsed to his knees before the cart and roared, his cry thundering against the tundra. It was then Nomasaki realized – it was Ekashiba's son.

A wave of emptiness overcame her, magnified by the brutal cold that swept past.

Kyō must have sensed her shock as he moved past her in utter silence towards his grieving sworn shield. Nomasaki could not take her eyes away from the morbid sight of death that stared back at her face. It was a true nightmare. A fear she held deep in the depths of her heart was death itself and death sentenced to the form of the beast. If a Yamamori clansman was killed while a wolf, they returned to the earth as such. A fate as such had befallen Ekashiba's son, it seemed. She stood frozen on the snow and saw her father's hand place itself on Ekashiba's back. Voices murmured, the young woman crying out, and the village fell silent as if a darkened cloud hovered overhead. The young woman still sobbed, her voice beginning to crack and grow hoarse from screaming. It was his lover, she realized.

Her own heart sank.

"Those damned bastards! Damn them to hell!" She heard a clansman bark through gnashed teeth. "How dare they commit such a vile act! What have our people done to deserve this? The Land of Earth and Iwagakure are supposed to be our allies!"

Nomasaki forced herself to proceed.

Her own footsteps sounded as if they were too loud. The snow that crunched beneath her boots thundered through her ears, but silence drowned all sound the closer she approached her father. The crying grew faint, the snow clouding it. When she was at her father's side, she made herself look the beast in its dead eyes.

She breathed. "That's…-,"

"His name was Satoshi," Ekashiba answered before Kyō could say anything. She had never heard his voice so broken, so vulnerable. "A good lad, young and fierce. He was scouting the western border we share with the Land of Earth… and they thought peppering his fur with arrows would be a good idea. Such a disgrace… he was not yet twenty." Ekashiba stood, and Kyō's comforting hand retreated to his side. "He was my oldest… and my only son."

A cold wind blew past, and snow soon began to fall. Nomasaki's fists closed at her sides, shielded only by her sleeves. "We will give him a funeral pyre more brilliant than the solstice."

Kyō turned, his voice low. "Nomasaki?"

Her fists clenched tight enough to burst. Claws were ready to pierce through her human skin, but she kept them at bay. Rage swam up to her throat, and fangs grew within her jaws. "I will not stand to see my people become butchered!" She shouted with a snarl, her breath turning to hot vapour in the mountain cold. Her father's face remained grim, empathetic. Silence fell upon the crowd. Soon, Nomasaki saw the shock and silence in their grieving faces as she turned and met their drawn stares. She poised herself, channelling her anger. "The Land of Earth is taunting us, using this to draw us out from our peace!" She proclaimed, her voice loud enough for all to hear. Her violet eyes narrowed, rage seething within. "We must end our scouting and restrict the Yamamori to the village… so if they come to us, we can return the favour."

The crowd erupted, fists and blades thrust into the frigid air.

"'Aye, Nomasaki-sama!"

"Bless our lady!"

Kyō stepped forward, placing a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "I decree from this day forward, Yamagakure is to restrict its borders." He followed suit, his voice commanding and thunderous. "No foreign body may enter or leave unless I see fit. Further, clansmen from the Yamamori and Kumatsume clans are to remain in their compounds and not venture west. The Land of Earth is trying to pit us against each other, potentially into another war. I, as your chieftain, will not let that happen!"

Villagers shouted his name.

"Kyō-sama!"

Angered furrowed his brow, echoing as he said the words. "Blood for blood will be repaid!"

Chants ruptured into the snowy skies.

The funeral occurred at nightfall, as was the tradition of Yamamori customs.

Standing heavy-hearted and still in the meadow of fallen snow, Nomasaki kept a face of hardened stone beside her father. Dressed in a white mourning kimono, she stood as if a ghost leading a sea of white behind her. It was over ten years since she last attended a funeral in Yamagakure. At her mother's funeral, only a few villagers showed up to pay their respects to the dead wolf-woman of the north. As she stood there now, it had to be the entire village at her back. All of them dressed in white, all mourning as one.

Already, her eyes began to sting from the incense.

Satoshi's great wolfish form was laid atop the pyre amongst a bed of snow lilies, pelts, swords forged of iron, and animal bones. He was curled as if the great beast was sleeping. The arrows that peppered his immaculate white fur were gone, and any trace of red had been washed away. The priestess and her underlings at the village shrine performed their task well, and the pyre was the greatest she had ever seen. It was double the size of her mother's pyre – a pyre fit for a beast. Muffled sobs echoed behind, but Nomasaki kept her gaze stoic and firm. She kept her fists clenched under her sleeves and swore she felt a nail pierce her skin. The warmth she sensed was definitely blood.

Her face was pale with grief, but her heart was darkened by rage.

The priestess emerged from the crowd with her underlings, with Ekashiba and his three daughters following in their path. Ekashiba appeared a shell of the man she knew who served her father, an emptiness and hatred burning in his purple eyes. His daughters were no older than seventeen, all dark-haired and violet-eyed like their father. Nomasaki did not know Ekashiba had other children, as he seldom spoke of anything while he served alongside the village chieftain. However, she knew he had long ago lost his wife to a sickness in the Land of Frost. Solemnly, the three girls stood close to their father with their heads hung low in grief. Their only brother – gone.

With elegant poise, the priestess stood with her back to the pyre. Garbed in the red and white robes of the old gods, the raven-haired woman raised her arms towards the moonless snowy skies. "We are gathered here to remember the bold sacrifice of one of our own, Satoshi of the Yamamori," She began, her voice loud enough for all to hear. "He was born in the Land of Frost, son to Ekashiba and his wife Ayai, now passed. Oldest of four children. He was a warrior like his father, awakening the clan's Ōkamitoko at age twelve. He was a fierce young man and a beast at heart. He gave his life for his villagers and his clan… and his sacrifice will never be forgotten. He is survived by his father, Ekashiba of the Yamamori, and his younger sisters, Kaya, Chihiro, and Eboshi."

As the priestess lowered her sleeves and turned to the pyre, her underlings lit the braziers beneath. One by one, torchlight was born. Some wept, others cursed under their breaths, while others stayed as silent as the mountain for which they stood. Flames rose into the blackened night, cloaking the wolf in a blanket of soothing fire. The sight of flame caused Nomasaki to flinch at first, provoking the memories of her mother's pyre to resurface. Fire, blood, ash. Yamagakure seemed to be trapped within a cycle of death. And as the villagers once said long ago, the proud Yamamori were a cursed people doomed to disappear.

Never before had Nomasaki realized the harsh reality.

And then the sorrow finally struck.

Cooling down her anger, tears swam to her throat and ran down her hot cheeks every time she blinked her eyes. She did not know Satoshi well, but she recognized his scent enough to know he was an underling of hers when she first came to Yama with her father those three years ago. He was the wolf who greeted her upon her return for every visit. The silent wolf who did not need to do as much as meet your gaze to understand what was not said – and now he was gone.

Her heart shattered.

Gone were his hopes, dreams, and future with his lover. Nomasaki could hear her wailing far behind, her voice broken and hoarse from crying out his name. Out of pity, Nomasaki glanced back. The young woman was brown-haired, wispy in frame, and was flanked by who appeared to be her mother and sister. And once Nomasaki saw the faint outline of a bump below the woman's obi, she averted her gaze back to the pyre.

Damn you, she cursed, Another child who will never know its father… Why must these old gods we worship be so cruel?

She thought of Kyōkurō, sleeping soundly in his woven crib in the nursery. Her heart ached to see him, to hold him, to snuggle him in her arms. She missed his feathery red hair, his little laugh, and the grasp of his tiny fingers on her hands. And Gaara, her husband. She missed him unbearably. Her love for her family was unmatched by any other in her life. She would move heaven and earth for them if she must.

Watching the flames swim toward the skies made the thought of losing her son unbearable. Yet, if this was the fate of those carrying the Yamamori bloodline, she believed it was her duty as his mother to protect him at all costs. She knew a parent's grief for she had possessed a mother's heart. A mother's love. Tenbu may have sowed the seeds of discontent, but Iwagakure was the one who struck first. The Land of Earth was an enemy to the Land of Mountains since her people claimed the mountain as their home thousands of years ago, but neutrality reigned since her birth.

But now, times have changed.

Iwa must be stopped – and crushed in their attempts. They wanted the gold and iron mines in the past, but it seemed to her all they now wanted was blood to be shed. Unnecessary blood, at that. The wolves were in their way – and the bears, too. Her people were out of hiding, living in their restored homeland, and thriving in a world that once wanted them destroyed. But the peace had ended, and war was waiting. As a lion does not concern itself with the affairs of sheep, humans should know better than to become involved with the affairs of beasts.

They cast the first stone, Nomasaki thought, watching the flames rise, And we will not forget.

The priestess rose her ivory hands to the ambers that danced into the night. "May the old gods of this mountain protect him in the next world."

Silently, the crowd bowed their heads and closed their eyes in shared mourning. Nomasaki did so beside her father, paying their final respects to a fallen clansman. In the old stories her mother would tell her as a child, it was said that the Yamamori who passed on would become spirits of the sacred forest of the red-barked trees, protecting any venturing clansmen who entered the sacred wood. The same was said of the ancient wolf tribe, whose memory was forgotten by the living. But Nomasaki remembered. She wondered if Hanone's soul was at peace in the ancient forest, watching over the village in his eternal slumber. Her heart desperately wished he had that peace. And she wished that for Satoshi, too.

When the silence ended, the priestess bowed and took her to leave for her shrine. Her underlings followed closely behind, carrying their torches in hand while they marched through the wooded path to the village. Cold vapour passed Nomasaki's lips as she watched the tower of flames touch the night skies.

A weak, frail chakra made its presence known.

"This is the way."

Nomasaki turned, witnessing the arrival of the elderly clan matriarch. Her wrinkled hands clasped her crafted cane with a slight tremor, and Nomasaki thought she saw tears run down her aged face. Even when ailing with the consequences of growing old, the matriarch left her small cabin north of the village to be with her people. Pride swelled from her arrival but with it a united sorrow for their fallen.

Nomasaki nodded, keeping her tears at bay. "This is the way…"

"This is the way." Her father joined.

Ekashiba remained silent, his back facing the mourners. But his daughters spoke, "This is the way."

The crowd of Yamamori, Kumatsume, and villagers all repeated the words.

And the embers danced in the night skies…

It was about an hour until the villagers and clansmen returned home. Nomasaki stayed with her father, who watched Ekashiba stand at the pyre in solemn and broken silence. His daughters bid their farewells, and Nomasaki told each of them how sorry she was for their loss. The girls only inclined their heads slightly, keeping their tearstained glances low. Midnight was in their midst, but the flames still roared.

Kyō walked to his right-hand, his footsteps crunching upon the snow. "I plan to send forces to find whoever did this to your son."

Silence.

Nomasaki joined her father but kept her glance on the men. She saw enough of the pyre, she decided. She wanted to give her condolences, but she knew it would not bring his son back. So, keeping still, she paid her respects in shared silence.

But Ekashiba lowered his head.

"Word is spreading of this vile act," He spoke, his voice hoarse with grief. "The Land of Claws issued a bounty for the bastards who did this… No word from Sunagakure or the other great villages, I'm afraid. No doubt the Shinobi Alliance is preventing them from following suit." He scoffed under a tired breath. "Democracy… but only when it's for the benefit of the greater powers. Villages like ours will always pay the price for their peace. Our people, too…"

Kyō glanced at her, concerned. "No response from Suna… did you hear anything from Gaara?"

"Nothing." Nomasaki shook her head. "I wouldn't put it past the council from meddling in his letters… He probably doesn't even know."

"Did you write to him since you awoke from the poison?"

She bit her tongue, realizing the truth. "…Not yet." She took a slow, calming breath. 'I will in the morning, once this passes."

Her father met her tearstained eyes, his glance narrowed. A certain sharpness was in his hazel eyes, conveying all she needed to know. "You're the only clansmen permitted to leave the village… I hope you use this freedom wisely."

And slit the throats of the ones who did this. Then, Nomasaki turned back to the pyre a final time.

"I will."

The morning was bleak.

After bathing herself in the early hours of daylight, Nomasaki dressed in her embroidered blue and black kimono, black pants, and fur-lined boots. She pinned her topknot carefully, letting the stray golden strands that fell frame her face. Her eyes were dulled as before, but where fear once lay, hatred had roamed. She knelt at the table with her stationary, pen in hand to write. Gaara had not heard from her since she left that early morning to journey to the forest. But the longer she stared at the parchment, the harder she found it to form the right words. For what she wanted to say was better to say in person. It was all too much to explain. She left the parchment behind, pulling her fur cloak over her shoulders and sliding the door closed.

The healers were still tending to the injured near the warmth of the hearth when Nomasaki entered the great chamber. Gingerly, she knelt down beside Sayuri's futon. Sayuri awoke shortly after, rubbing her eyes groggily.

"My lady…"

Nomasaki gave a light smile. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel… so weak," Sayuri sighed. "But I can at least sit up. I couldn't yesterday." She hung her head low, her auburn hair shrouding her sorrow. "I'm sorry about Satoshi… I wanted to be there."

Nomasaki shook her head. "You were injured."

"My lady," Sayuri began, her voice barely audible. "What is going to happen? First, Tenbu attacks us when we least expect it, and the Iwagakure killed one of our own – your clan…-,"

"I don't know," Nomasaki sighed, her smile fading from her lips. "Tenbu is still at large, with their members scattered to the winds, it seems… but Iwa must answer for their crime. Satoshi's death will not go unpunished. I can promise you that."

Sayuri clutched the blankets in her fingers. "I see… Good."

Nomasaki reached for her hand, softly placing a palm over hers. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Sayuri." She stood, eyeing her with a still calm. "If you see my father, can you tell him I have somewhere I must be? I will explain everything to him when I return."

Sayuri nodded. "Y-Yes, of course!" Upon seeing Nomasaki start towards the great chamber doors, she pressed. "Where are you going?"

Nomasaki paused once she reached the doorway. "Hunting."

Cold swept against her cloak as she pushed open the heavy doors.

And they slammed with a thunder.

The ebony bow and quiver clung heavily to her back as she descended the mountainside.

Stubborn in her time of need, her blood refused to boil. She must face the threat as a human, she reasoned. A Yamamori clansman she had acquainted in her years living with her father offered himself to be her fangs and claws and allowed her to mount his fur-clad back in his wolf-form. He was a year or two younger than her, but his form was large enough to threaten any shinobi. No wolf would ever be as large as Hanone or herself, but Nomasaki accepted her clansman's pledge with the utmost honour. With a snarl, the great wolf dashed down the snowy landscape, weaving through frosted trees and crossing the tundra. Paws thundered against the snow and ice, and the wind whipped her cheeks furiously. Anger and hatred swelled deep within Nomasaki's heart, rising to her throat as they approached closer to their destination.

Within a few short hours, they saw the border to the Land of Earth in their midst.

Under the cover of the forest canopy, Nomasaki leapt down from the beast's back. She patted his fur, meeting his large purple eyes that stared into hers. "Stay here… I will return for you."

The wolf made a subtle snarl in response, obeying.

Nomasaki adjusted the bow on her shoulders and kept on the path by foot. Her boots crunched in the snow, still fresh from last night's fall. The Land of Earth was not a snowy region, but the border they shared was long disputed land. To her, the winds and ground still clung to an eternal winter. This was Mountain territory, in her eyes. She could detect two chakras in the distance – both male. She could smell them, too. Pine, coal, and leather.

Iwa-nin.

She trudged on, and before she knew it, she lost the scent of her clansman behind her. If fortunate, the wolf would stay out of the battle – if it was a last resort. No more Yamamori blood needed to be shed – for they had already paid the price.

Sunlight broke through the heavy cloud cover as she emerged from the thicket.

Just ahead, she saw the stone towers of the border crossing. Two shinobi flanked the wooden gates, both clad in the shinobi leathers and flak jackets of Iwagakure, save for the cloaks at their backs. They were armed with longbows and katanas – but they were alone. Most likely isolated from their comrades stationed elsewhere. She sensed no others.

One of them readied their bow as she approached closer. "Who goes there?"

Nomasaki came to a stop, glaring at their raised weapon. Then, as rage bubbled in her throat, she pulled down her cloak's hood to reveal herself. Sunlight scattered across the snowy plain, shining upon her golden head and illuminating her violet eyes. Vengeance roared inside of her, her blood simmering under her skin.

"Huh? A woman?" The Iwa-nin flinched, the longbow clattering in his grasp. He firmed his stance, shouting. "This is territory belonging to the Land of Earth! If you wish to cross the border, the crossing is southwest of here! If you continue any further, you will be arrested and charged with trespassing!"

The other Iwa-nin punched his shoulder. "You idiot! Look at her eyes!" Urgency marked his tone. Panic lingered as well. "She's one of them! A Yamamori… and not just any Yamamori, but the one we were tasked with watching for!"

"Y-You mean we didn't get her?" The Iwa-nin turned to their comrade frantically. "But it was a wolf! A giant one, too!"

"Idiot! That one was only a pup compared to her…" Their comrade leaned close, a sneer on his lips. "Just watch, she'll change soon enough and then you'll see. She's the leader of the pack… a monster!"

They may have been speaking only with each other, but Nomasaki could hear every word. Her blood simmered, rage coursing through her veins as she fought every instinct to lunge. The bow and quiver at her back exerted a sudden weight, and she resisted the brief moment it would take her fingers to loose an arrow so fierce it would scar the winds.

Her face was cold, steely. "You know of me?"

One of the Iwa-nin stepped forward, pointing their bow and arrow in her direction. "You destroyed a village with your dark witchcraft! Our lords told us it was you who did it!"

The words struck her.

Her glare tensed, her bones growing still. Witchcraft? His voice of words was absurd. "I don't know what you're on about. Tell me more of this witchcraft you claim I possess."

"You know blood-sealing, a forbidden ninjutsu!" He shouted as his comrade prepared his arrow. "You're the only one alive who knows it. Our lords and daimyo know it's you!"

Her stare grew suspicious, eyeing the two men and their iron-firm conviction. She had not been to the Land of Earth – not once in her life. The closest she came was at this very moment. She was certain Tenbu had spread word of her survival from the blood-seal. And with it, they no doubt planted false utterings of her relishing in its dark power. She broke the seal, but she did not wield it. Surely the great nations of Wind, Fire, Water, and Lightning knew the truth – but the Land of Earth seemingly ignored it. Not even with the elderly Tsuchikage, it seemed. Her thoughts went to the Uchiha – the only other who bore witness. And the only other she knew who travelled to the Land of Earth within the last year. She cast the thought out, focusing on the men in the distance.

It was because of them that Satoshi was dead.

Because they thought the wolf they had slain was her.

They wanted her.

Her heart darkened as she stared at them, her violet eyes piercing their silhouettes amongst the snow.

"There's a huge bounty on your head, lady. Dead or alive." The boisterous Iwa-nin aimed, his muscles tensed and ready to let his arrow fly. A dark smirk curved on his lips. "I don't care if you're the Kazekage's wife… One shot is all it'll take!"

She stood as firm as her mountain. "Did you kill him?"

"Kill who?"

"A large white wolf, a few days ago." She went on, anger seething from each breath. "Went by the name Satoshi. The son of Ekashiba of the Yamamori clan, right-hand to the chieftain of Yamagakure… Did you kill him?"

The Iwa-nin scoffed. "I didn't know beasts had names. I would've made a pelt of him, but the others turned ravenous over a deadly hunt. Stole the body before I could cut him." He aimed for her chest, pointing his arrow toward her embroidered clothes. "We thought it was you we hunted… our mistake."

Nomasaki closed her eyes, taking a calming breath. "Then it appears I came to the right place…"

The two Iwa-nin had their arrows nocked, ready to loose. "Why? To be our next hunt?"

And the calm was broken.

She stomped her stance on the snow, shattering the earth with thunderous inhuman strength. Her nostrils flared with white-hot anger as her blood boiled and raged within. Her face suddenly twisted into a beastly visage of fangs and snarls, the wolf within awakening. She swung her bow to her front, aiming an arrow with unbridled ferocity.

Vengeance was in her monstrous stare.

And so was death itself.

She nocked her arrow, her jaws releasing a beastly roar. "TO SEEK JUSTICE!"

And her arrow flew.

It shattered the winds, flying so furiously as if in a mere blink. The Iwa-nin who wanted her pelt was pierced through the heart, the arrow carrying him until his back slammed against the wooden gates. His death was instant – his head slumping to his flak jacket, which ran red with his own blood. The other Iwa-nin aimed for her hastily, tears forming in his darkened eyes. Nomasaki wasted no time in nocking another arrow. She let it fly just as he began to move his fingers upon the bow. Crimson sprayed upon the snow and ice, and his wails of agony erupted upon the snowy plain. The shot tore off his right arm, piercing it into the wooden gate at his back.

Nomasaki lowered her bow, her breath laboured and shaking. Her violet eyes were wide with rage, adrenaline and rage still coursing in her blood. Her hand clutched the ebony bow tight enough to break, her pulse beating in her ears. She used neither a woman's strength nor a shinobi or a wolf.

A monster's strength.

A demon's blood.

Horror at what she had done only just came to light, her heart beating frantically at the bloodshed at the gates. It was all her doing. She ended a man's life today and earned his family's hatred. But it was an eye for an eye. Iwa killed one of her clansmen unprovoked, so one of their own had to die. Such was a fair exchange. Such was justice. Nomasaki walked forward, her boots crunching upon the heavy snow with each step.

The Iwa-nin recoiled and rolled, desperately trying to cover his gaping wound with the cloak that clung to his back. Tears ran down his face, his suffering echoing against the falling snow and the plain. Nomasaki paused, looking down at him in vicious contempt. The Iwa-nin shuddered, inching his body away until his back hit the bloodied wood of the gate. He had nowhere to go and nowhere to run.

He was trapped – and the hunt was made.

"P-Please!" His voice shook with each breath. "D-Don't kill me! W-We're sorry!"

"Leave here." Nomasaki spat through her fanged teeth. "Tell your lords what just happened and what you did to deserve it. And if any of your men come close to Yamagakure…-," She gave a vicious glare, a snarl escaping her jaws. "…I'll rip you and your men apart!"

The Iwa-nin quivered in fear, tears streaming down his face. Nomasaki turned away, refusing to see a man soil himself. She walked back towards the edge of the forest. Each step weighed a thousand pounds, but her gaze ahead remained stoic and firm in judgement. The falling snow lightly kissed her cheeks, and the cold winter winds swam through her gold hair. Once she was under the shield of the forest canopy, her clansman met her. She patted the fur of his back, and he laid on his belly, allowing her to mount. Atop his back, the wolf rose and began on its path back to the village.

The die had been cast, and she could never look back.

For if she looked back, she was lost.

Notes: As mentioned early in my writing of this fic series, I'm a huge Princess Mononoke fan. The scene where Nomasaki shoots her arrow is similar to Ashitaka's demonic powers in the movie, where he beheads one man and cuts the arms off another with a single arrow.

The ending lines are a direct reference to Julius Caesar, a Roman dictator who crossed the Rubicon in 49 BCE and marched his army to conquer Rome. Julius is documented to have said "alea iacta est", which from Latin means "the die is cast". The last line is a direct reference to George RR Martin's A Game of Thrones, as in Daenerys' POV she says "if I look back, I am lost", which essentially means there is no going back - only forward.