A/N: Hard to believe that it's been a couple of months since I've updated this fic. For those of you waiting patiently for the conclusion of the Chunin Exam Festival, I'd like to apologize for getting lost on the "Road to Life." The road tends to reach out and grab you when you least expect it...
Well, back to our little story of intrigue and deception, shall we?
Looks like a very small part of the fanbase for this story gets to decide Hiruzen's fate. The minority has spoken on behalf of the rest and, as promised, I give you the results. Ah, well...
I won't belabor it and present for your enjoyment the conclusion of our "Grand Festival." Enjoy as you will...
P.S.: Thank you for the well-wishes and those inquiring as to my health (still alive and kicking!). May you all keep safe in this crazy world until we all awaken to a brighter future free of killer germs and murder hornets.
~Siva'a-tasi
~III~
Chapter 49: No Time for Goodbyes: Afterthoughts
~III~
~ Previously on No More ~
"Almost home..."
Coming in between gasping mouthfuls of frothy air as he fought to stay conscious, the heavily wounded Oto nin kept panting in time to his shuffling feet. Anything faster jostled his injuries too much and made his vision swoon with pain.
"Almost home," he huffed as his left foot tamped down on the cobblestoned streets of Konoha's Market District.
He could almost believe it if he squinted hard enough but he was no fool.
Jobon knew he was a dead man. He could feel it in the depths of his soul but that wouldn't stop him from fighting to his final breath. He couldn't stop now. He had someone waiting for his return... "Little Mira" was waiting for him... she needed him to make it back and that meant that the Shinigami couldn't take him just yet.
Orochimaru-sama promised them a better life where she could get the medicine she needed. He promised!
He tried to visualize her chocolatey colored hair and soft freckles dancing across her five-year-old face but was having a difficult time at the moment. Jobon of the Stone Valley, former proud Chunin of Iwagakure and now loyal Special Jounin of Otogakure could not fail his little girl.
She needed him. Yes, she needed him to be strong and make it back in one piece.
Her inquisitive eyes, big and round with an infectious love of life and jelly beans, needed him to focus and that was exactly what he was going to do by Kami.
Jobon sucked in as much air as he could and tried to regulate his breathing, his fingers gripping tightly at his side hoping the stinging pain would help him focus. It was getting so hard though as he felt the sticky fluid seeping through his fingers before spreading through his shorn vest and clothing.
'Cheaply crafted gomi!'
A chill ravaged his entire body, his vision swimming briefly forcing the pale shinobi to stagger to a halt trying to regain his balance. Why was he in such a hurry again? It was getting soo hard to remember when all he wanted to do was lay down and rest... just for a moment...
Jobon snapped awake even as his brow dipped in time with his heavy eyelids.
MIRA!
Her name was enough to jerk his lids back up even as the empty road ahead danced and spun like a windmill across his blurry vision.
He brought a souvenir for Mira, his dry fingers clenching around the tiny pony figurine secured in his vest pocket. He had to make it home in one piece so he could give it to her - he'd worked far too hard and put too much on the line not to keep that promise to himself.
No matter how much his feet stumbled or his breathing hitched in his chest with that gurgling wet noise in the back of his throat, he had to push on.
He had to because he was the only one left.
She'd cut them all down in cold blood, that she-devil!
A quick glance behind him showed the winding columns of smoke drifting lazily up to the heavens and his pace slowed as his lungs convulsed. He was almost positive one was filling up slowly with his own blood after that blinding strike...
Jobon, proud Oto Chunin that he was, had to pause as another wave of dizziness threatened to floor him where he stood. Unbidden his eyes fluttered as the darkness threatened to take him, his body shivering uncontrollably as the warmth of his life's body trickled through slick fingers to the thirsty ground below.
'Not yet,' he chanted over and over again. This cursed village would not claim him yet.
'That hellspawn may have gotten them but she'll never get me.'
A flash of heat shot through his body and he shivered once more, his mind slowly slipping away into the madness as he tried to stave off shock and fever, his body slowly shutting down with bloodloss. Even as his eyes rolled heavenward looking for the annoying high-pitched whine drowning out every sound in his ears, the image of a perfectly-smooth face drenched in rivulets of crimson - pale and soulless in the all too cheery sunlight of the perfect day - shocked him back to a hazy semblance of awareness.
That blood-splattered mask was enough to spur him onward to the one underground tunnel the majority of their strike force used to sneak into the village. If he could make it before that witch found him...
Even a fresh Genin could put one and one together to get two. His combined Oto-Suna platoon was supposed to mop of the civilians mucking about in the open-air market. It was supposed to be easy, like slaughtering helpless cattle.
It was supposed to be...
Another scream, all-too-short in the distant din of brutality shot a bolt of electric ice up his spine edging his stumbling feet on just a bit faster. He nearly wept then as he staggered along, his muffled sobs coming out as frantic whimpers. The fear pounding in his chest drove him because she had no mercy. The soul-piercing screams of his comrades proved as much.
The hand not clutching futilely at the blood seeping through his sticky fingers scratched absently at his cheek - a nervous habit from his childhood he never really cast away - as fear shifted imperceptibly to panic. Over and over again the same message repeated behind wide and unblinking eyes.
Mira needed him to come home just one last time. He'd make it up to her then. He'd never leave aga-.
SNAP.
Jobon couldn't help himself. His traitorous feet stumbled to a halt all on their own, his legs trembling hard enough that his entire body shook clattering his teeth together with his body's violent shivering so much it hurt to gnash them together in the hopes of silence.
'Please... one more step.'
His mind was spiraling rapidly out of control. He kept telling himself not to look back.
Just breathe.
Just keep walking.
Just one more step...
He had to keep moving. He'd come soo far and freedom was just another mile or two in the southwestern farmlands.
"Please... I'm sorry... so sorry..." His voice was faint even to his own ears, his pleas snatched away with the gentle breeze along with his remaining courage.
Terrified. He was scared out of his wits as he prayed over and over again to any Kami that would listen.. if they'd just let him make it home. He'd never do something like this again.
Images of his round-face obaa-chan and heart-faced girlfriend came to mind and he swore on their lives that he'd go straight. Maybe he'd even get an honest job, a good job a father could be proud to teach to his own son if he had one someday.
He just needed to take one more step and then maybe follow it with another. It would be so easy but his cowardly legs continued to betray him.
Instead of moving on and taking his own advice, fear drew his head around slowly enough to bring the frazzled purple mane and blood-streaked mask of the lioness responsible for decimating most of his squad into the periphery of his vision.
He sobbed openly then.
Then his body betrayed him one last time as it released his bladder to mingle with the darker fluids he'd already begun to puddle on the thirsty soil of Konohagakure no Sato. He had just enough time to curse his poor luck before the blood-caked blade of her ninjato pierced his left lung fully this time.
Then the world fell away to a white haze as Jobon's vision faded to white for the last time as his Neko-faced killer dispatched him to his final judgment.
Jobon would not be able to appreciate the irony of his killer, herself covered in the tattered and bloody remnants of her uniform, as she turned to walk away right before falling unconscious to the earth beneath her own feet.
If he were conscious, he could have appreciated the slowly spreading pool of blood flowing out from her midsection.
~III~
"The most tragic thing in the world is a man of genius who is not a man of honor."
― George Bernard Shaw
~III~
Konoha Grand Arena - Chunin Exam Festival Finals Round
Below, the senbon-chewing proctor had just announced the match between Naruto and Gaara, the air charging with the crowd's anticipation and building energy. Patiently the audience had been waiting nearly two days for this match between powerhouses to happen and their less-than-rowdy behavior was about to be rewarded, especially after the early disappointments gifted by the established tournament favorites.
Comfortably ensconced beneath his Kazekage disguise, Orochimaru clucked his tongue in distaste mentally noting the conversation he would need to have with Kabuto later concerning his lack of accurate reporting. For now, he needed to pay attention to the village he needed to destroy.
Despite his initial disappointment, he could recognize a certain level of unpredictability in the nature of it all and that made his mercuriality all that much more vexing. No one could have predicted the fall of both the Uchiha and Hyuuga prodigies as, on the surface, those seemed fairly safe assessments. That they fell, one to some hussie from Kiri and the other to the village embarrassment, pointed to lazy spycraft.
Again, incredibly vexing but there you had it. Upset after upset that could have led to some horrible career choices involving the wrong future vessels fit for an S-ranked villain.
People had been horribly disfigured for less.
Now, however, that disappointment would be repaid in full once the tourney's top dogs duked it out in bloody high-definition. Nevermind that people were conveniently brushing aside the Sand nin's less than destructive streak - he was conserving his energy for the fight that mattered, right? At least, that's what the voices of the audience near him thought.
Of course, he was and that only made the cash flow that much easier across betting counters and cage windows.
He had to be. Yes, he had to be! This would be the massacre to remember! Finally, Konoha would be freed from the demon spawn that killed their beloved Yondaime.
Orochimaru did not agree with the obvious delusions floating about beneath his perch. He had not stayed one step ahead of his enemies by being gullible and he would not begin now on the cusp of his sweet revenge. He'd simply adjust his plan mid-stream and deal with his disappointment through good old fashion murder, destruction, and mayhem.
They were at the end of the grand show, after all. Oh, the excitement!
Then the Sandaime seated to his right noticed the fluffy white feathers falling on the stadium crowd right before he motioned with his hidden hand and the Kage booth erupted in a billowing mass of purple smoke and sulfur. A relatively safe vantage point in the Kage booth kept them all above the sleep-inducing Genjutsu so Hiruzen was free to focus on the disturbance in his immediate vicinity highlighted by the rapid expansion of cloying purple smoke.
We couldn't have the old monkey paying attention to the carnage below, now could we?
With a thought, Orochimaru saturated his legs with chakra and blurred from his seat with four more shadows in tow.
His joy only grows with Hiruzen's hesitation having been dragged from the Kage booth to the enormous pavilion rooftop covering the VIP box section. The old man pays little attention to the now four figures kneeling on the heavy tiles a considerable distance away from them until the rectangular barrier they erect seals the both of them away from the carnage erupting in the stadium below.
Orochimaru add-libbed the entire dialogue that followed, more excited in the moment than anything else. He would not allow the stern - and oddly unsurprised - visage of his former sensei to dampen his pleasant mood. The Otokage would simply have to extract extra enjoyment in his mentor's physical suffering as a result of being denied this verbal spar.
Shrugging away the doldrum, words became jutsu chants as fire and earth flew across the tiled surface. Sure, he tried to lighten the mood by faking a dramatic death in sensei's "Flaming Earth Dragon Bullet" collaboration jutsu - so predictable sensei, kukuku!
But that sort of entertainment can only last so long.
"Really sensei." The brilliant grin on Orochimaru's face held no warmth. "To allow your skills to atrophy so badly is the height of folly for a Kage, isn't it? What will your shinobi think?"
A "tsk-ing" grunt of annoyance was the only response given. With a heavy sigh, he vomited up the Grass Cutting Sword and closed to melee distance, his blade meeting with the reinforced end of plain yet well-made bo in the hands of his former teacher. Before his eyes could do more than narrow suspiciously, the ringing blows and grunts of exertion swept away anything other than dedicated focus on his opponent.
Orochimaru grunted as another stab with his sword was casually swept away. The old monkey was trying to be careful by striking the flat of the blade whenever possible, a testament to exactly how dangerous the old fool was with a stick, but shallow slices in the metal-bound weapon proved it was only a matter of time before something gave way.
The lazy movements he'd planned on using to taunt the old fool had been discarded at the beginning of the fight, Orochimaru shifting quickly as the wooshing sound of wood and metal blurring past his skull tore through the air.
The old man must have been feeling particularly spry today. Good prunes?
In the back of his brilliant mind, he had to give credit where it was due. Hiruzen was clearly keeping up with his workout regimen.
He pointedly deflected another dangerously close strike trying to shave off the end of that accursed toothpick then lunged with little success. Back and forth the two reposted, frustration building to annoyance, annoyance building to anger...
The Snake Sannin's hissing laughter filled the air even as Hiruzen rose casually from the tiled roof they waged battle across, his right hand casually tossing away what remained of the reinforced bo staff unable to match the dreaded Kusanagi. Brushing imaginary dirt from his robes, the older man appeared the very image of calm experience, his eyes quickly taking in the nervous Konoha nin standing just beyond the purple barrier keeping them at bay.
"Come now, sensei, kukukuku. Surely you have something pithy to say... some tidbit of wisdom you can pass on to the next generation before your untimely death at my hands?"
Hiruzen's eyes settled on the confident figure of his former pupil before shrugging off his robes of authority. Beneath the scuffed robes of white and red lay his dark grey battle armor hailing all the way back to the Second Shinobi War.
"As a matter of fact, I do have two words to offer you, Orochimaru." Hiruzen pushed up the mesh sleeve covering his left forearm, swiped his thumb across his mouth catch a bit of the blood he'd coughed up during their brief conflict to swab it across his now bare skin enjoying the confused look on his former student's face as a cloud of smoke burst to Hiruzen's side revealing the Monkey King, Enma.
Internally molding the chakra needed, the Sandaime Hokage mentally thanked Jiraiya for the summon seal on his arm and smiled as he called out, [Henge: Kongōnyoi].
Orochimaru's laughter died in his throat as the two Kage-level opponents squared off yet again. All about them the sounds of their respective forces bled and died oblivious to the drama playing out in the bright purple cage of light.
~III~
CLANG!
No words were shared. Ushida's first pass took him roughly one and a half paces past Naruto's right side, his oversized blade held vertically and close to his chest to intercept the cut. The younger blond's head tilted towards his right shoulder presumably at the sound of the Captain's sandals spinning on rocky ground.
CLANG! Another high-pitched keen echoed as steel clashed against steel.
Naruto immediately knelt and pivoted, his sword in a double-handed grip as he brought the pommel up and across his body to stop from being vertically bisected by Ushida's downward stroke.
Ushida's grunted effort met an equal and opposing grunt of force from his kneeling opponent who pushed upwards to force the vibrating katana away from his head. The determined soldier brought up his lead leg and lashed out smashing a log to splinters leading, his face contorting in anger as his mouth mumbled a curse under his breath.
It was clear to anyone still watching the fight that the stocky Captain was the better swordsman. Too bad he fought with year's worth of ingrained samurai discipline keeping him from employing the same "honorless" and "craven" techniques ninja used to evade death.
As a result, the good samurai's temper was beginning to rise as clear as daylight.
This forced a chuckle from the blond shinobi as his shoulders bounced lightly, his own mouth responding to the unheard critique. Naruto couldn't resist the smirk blooming on his face at the good officer's annoyance and settled into the first stance of his Crashing Wave Defense.
An acknowledging grunt was the only response as two pairs of eyes latched onto the surprisingly high-quality images dancing across the screen.
The tone would have been menacing regardless of the tasseled hat of authority sitting on the figure's furrowed brow. It was, however, enough to convey both meaning and purpose as one of the recently cowed figures just beyond arm's reach shuffled off in great haste.
Naruto flexed his knees to lower his center of gravity while bringing upward the pointed tip of his weapon towards the open sky. As he settled into his stance, he could see his opponent's two-handed grip tighten on the pommel of his weapon, the blade beginning to pulse with a bright blue glow.
The large blade in the shinobi's hand flared with power as he fed his chakra into it, its own menacing glow responding in kind.
"Dancing Blade Risk!"
Whatever microphones were attached to the fixed cameras were good enough to pick up the guttural growl in the Captain's voice. The good Captain in question shot across the open ground separating him from his target, the angry meeting, and subsequent clashing of their chakras, resulting in a bright blue explosion of light.
There was a large burst of light that blanked out everyone's vision.
Naruto began pulsing chakra to the bottoms of his sandals slowing down the rearward momentum of his sliding feet.
Ushida was frozen in his forward slash with his sword fully extended. He was enjoying the results of his clearly overwhelming victory and drew out his dramatic charge with a showy flourish of his blade before sheathing it. As slowly and as dramatically as possible, he turned to watch his opponent fall to the earth in two pieces along with his now worthless sword, large and overcompensating monstrosity that it is.
The look on his face proclaimed arrogantly that he'd won only to fall in shock at the lack of a body on the ground. Clearly he was not expecting to feel the biting sting as a blade slashed across the backs of his thighs either prompting him to one, scream out in pained shock and two, roll forward enough to spin about and reposition his sword to defend against another attack.
He found his blond opponent standing there with his ridiculously huge blade undamaged and extended out fully from his body.
The smiling face of Naruto Uzumaki went through the motions of a witty repartee before Ushida's eyebrow began twitching violently.
A couple of verbal exchanges were made before the Captain's chest began to heave with labored breathing. The Uzumaki leveled his sword once more before his opponent ground his sandals into the hard-packed earth in preparation for another charge.
Ushida wordlessly dropped into a preparatory stance and began channeling chakra through his entire body until he glowed a healthy blue color from head to toe.
With the calmly spoken words, "That is enough," both the now blurry blond figure and the angry Captain paused mid-lunge, wiggly lines splitting the image lengthwise from left to right along the impressively-sized monitor.
"Bring him here."
Several spines shivered at the menacing tone from a man none of them previously knew possessed a backbone. One only had to view his distanced relationship with his cat-loving spouse to develop a biased and unfounded opinion of him.
None of those thoughts prevented all eyes in the Chamber of Councilors from pivoting from the now-paused widescreen monitor showing Genin Uzumaki's battle with one of the Daimyo's guards to the face of their Daimyo, his mouth twisted into a sneer as his gaze transferred from the playback to the closed double doors of the chamber. He'd seen the ending enough times already to know both its outcome and what was required of him regarding his duplicitous guards starting with the "good Captain" having been brought forward to forcibly kneel before the entire Council in chakra sealing stocks.
Former Captain Ushida carried the shame of his defeat like a physical shroud, his shoulders slumped and head bowed with the shame of losing to a "worthless shinobi dog," as he referred to them. His dislike of the ninja was perhaps the worst-kept secret in the Capital. Even the hateful gaze he shot up in the Daimyo's direction carried with it all the loathing he could muster - at least until a metal gauntlet from one of his former peers cuffed him on the back of his skull hard enough to force better manners into the defeated warrior.
Jiraiya, sitting just to the Daimyo's left, narrowed his eyes just a hair as the proceedings resumed.
"Who am I?" the Daimyo of Hi no Kuni prodded.
The bruised and bloody Captain refused to answer until a heavy bamboo rod slammed down across his shoulderblades drawing out another hiss of pain while leaving another weeping tear in the purpled flesh beneath equally tattered strips once called clothing.
The Lord of the Land of Fire waited for several beats of the hidden drum before repeating his query at a more deliberate cadence.
"Who... am... I?"
Ushida never lifted his eyes from the floor as he growled out something referencing the Hi no Kuni Daimyo. While it staved off another heavy-handed blow from the shinai-wielding lieutenant just past his left shoulder, it did garner another slap to the back of his noggin heavy enough to knock him akimbo. He didn't stay that way long before another pair of rough hands hoisted him upright again.
"So," the Daimyo resumed, "does this mean that I make the rules or that you make the rules?"
Ushida knew where this was going just as much as he knew he was powerless to do anything about his situation and he loathed it all. Decades of loyal service being flushed down the latrine by that-THWACK!
Another open-handed strike stopped his angry eyes from continuing their journey up from the floorboards of the chamber. His words were nearly unintelligible earning another strike from the red-tinged shinai, which drew a hissing yelp from the hardy soldier shackled in chakra suppression chains.
"Daimyo-sama..." It was difficult to speak clearly through clenched teeth trying to suck in hissing gulps of air.
"I'm sorry. I didn't hear you correctly." The Daimyo's face held the emotion of a flat stone but plenty of very still observers could see the unhappiness in his eyes.
"We've been at this since the early hours of daylight so perhaps I've not consumed enough tea to fully awaken my mind, so I'll need you to repeat that so an old man may understand your words."
Everyone in the room could see the betrayal behind the stern eyebrows and clenched jawline.
"You make the rules," Ushida's panting subsided just a bit letting him speak loud enough to be heard, "Daimyo-sama."
"Then I suppose it is fortunate that Genin Uzumaki was able to defeat you since I clearly ordered for his protection during the invasion, an order you clearly disobeyed."
Ibiki's monster thumb mashed the play button on the remote as the screen directly behind the subjugated officer jumped to life once more, the time-enhanced images flickering towards the end of his fight with the young shinobi, a distraction Ushida used to briefly flick his eyes up from the floor before grimacing in distaste, bloodshot orbs finding a knot of wood in the speckled board before his knees particularly interesting.
He couldn't see their final clash or even how they didn't pass by each other but stood to trade blows blade-to-blade. He lived through the embarrassing defeat - why watch it happen again and again in high-definition?
Heavy swings meant to overpower someone much smaller gave way to pushing and shoving in an attempt to force the Genin off balance. Legs lashed out to trip their opponent even as they grunted and cursed at each other in the middle of the auditorium. Earth churned as shoulders heaved all to no apparent avail.
Then the good Captain decided to alter his honorable tactics by heaving one last time to force his opponent's guard high. Naruto resisted, of course, only to assist Ushida as the older man reversed the direction of his surge bringing both hands downward sharply. Caught off guard Naruto could not prevent the katana from biting deeply into the flesh of his trapezius as the good Captain drew his blade downward and backwards to his own right hip, the grinding slash making Naruto's left arm all but useless until his passenger could knit the gushing wound back together and hopefully before he could bleed out.
Naruto staggered backwards to open up space, however, Ushida was having none of that. Sensing victory after such a frustrating fight, his bloodied sword led the way with sweeping blows meant to bisect the crippled boy. Using enough chakra to make his lower body glow like a bonfire, the Genin danced in reverse managing to stay half a pace ahead of the humming blade seeking the rest of his life's blood.
Such was the altered landscape of the fight until Naruto reversed directions during the next overhead swing of his frothing opponent. With his blade reverse-gripped, Naruto darted past Ushida's right side with his sword parallel to the ground and the sharp edge dragging along the Captain's thigh.
The good Captain's yell of agony froze mid-bellow thanks to another judicious application of Ibiki's thumb to the remote.
"We all know the rest of that little skirmish, don't we, my dear former Captain?"
Everyone present understood that the Daimyo's question wasn't really a question. Naruto regained the use of his left arm shortly after that - much to Ushida's sputtering disbelief - and Ushida immediately lost the use of his left leg once the Genin removed it beneath the knee with one double-handed swing of that ridiculously oversized blade.
Another heavy slap produced a suitably chastised, "Hai, Daimyo-sama" from Ushida. Eyes still on the unresponsive floorboards of the Council Chamber, Ushida refused to look up knowing that he'd lock eyes with that hateful bastard that put him in this position. If they met eyes, he'd give everything away and that would cost him more than his life was worth now. His mother's fragile life hung in the balance now so he forced down his revulsion at the man he once proudly called "General" just to keep a stony face.
"Of course we do," the Fire Lord crooned as he clasped his hands together over several files stacked neatly before his seat. "No, the real question is why, isn't it?"
Ushida neither flinched nor attempted to raise his eyes. Images of his mother's smiling face in their small garden back home in the capital stayed his tongue.
"Nothing?" Though his face remained unchanged, the Daimyo's tone was marginally incredulous. "Nothing to say in the hopes of saving your worthless hide?"
Silence.
"Very well then." The Daimyo slapped down the front flap of what Ushida assumed to be his file prepared by Konoha's finest interrogators.
"Add him to the growing pile of nameless corpses, Ibiki-kun. Hang him as befitting his new station as an honorless brigand."
Everyone in the chamber except for Ushida and the good General flinched at the decree. To die as an honorless cutthroat would be the worst possible way to hurt a man with only his honor left to his name.
Ibiki would not give the condemned man a chance to grow difficult over the sentence. The black-garbed specter of T&I snapped a sharp bow before two Chunin dragged the permanently-crippled soldier away. This time Jiraiya saw the man's beaten face snap up from the floor to focus on something near-.
"What's next Jiraiya-kun?"
Jiraiya's sharp gaze blinked twice before he grabbed the next file on his personal stack filled with red sticky tabs.
"At some point, Dono, we will need to address both the delayed dignitaries awaiting to depart and the unresolved issue with Iwa." While not the usual condition, the Super Pervert had been good and hidden while Jiraiya stepped in to facilitate recovery efforts on behalf of a battle-shocked Konoha. Konoha's entire Council found the transformation from "dirty old lecher" to "steely-eyed professional" jarring to say the least but it also reminded them all that here before everyone stood a powerful veteran of the last war.
The Fourteenth Lord of Fire sucked in an annoyed surge of air between immaculate dental work. "Let's address the heavier politics at the end once we've taken care of Konoha's citizens."
Jiraiya nodded even as he shuffled the stack of papers before his nation's highest authority. Somewhere in the back of his nimble mind, the Toad Sage had to acknowledge the master politician's hold on the will of his people; the Daimyo being loved by the vast majority of his moody nation was not a fluke.
"We should move on to damage assessments and the last of the casualties then."
A fairly thick manila folder rose to the top surrendering a sheet covered in numbers and estimates. The second sheet had similar information as it related to Suna. Anything concerning Oto was believed to be purely speculative and therefore not worth considering until they could find the cesspool and gain a little information on their latest competitor.
"With the exception of the Kage booth," Jiraiya's eyes flickered to the younger Daimyo's face in time to catch a brief flicker of melancholy before both sets of eyes focused on a photo with a flowing curtain of purple hair, "our serious casualties are minimal."
"Thank Kami for small miracles and a well-prepared shinobi force."
Jiraiya grimaced under the praise grousing about, "Not prepared enough it would seem."
"Posh!" A well-manicured hand swept away the deriding comment with equal disdain. "Learn to take credit where it is due, Jiraiya-kun."
His eyes snapped up to the snow-capped hermit and held him in place firmly.
"We both know this could have turned out much worse. Konoha demonstrated her supremacy among the nations and her shinobi have made me extremely proud... in most cases anyway."
Masato Shijimi, the fifth of his name, returned his attention to the new matter at hand with the assured finality of a man used to being in charge. "Now, tell me what tragic story awaits me here, Jiraiya-kun."
A large inhale by the toad sage precluded a tale of misery and woe grateful that it was the last one over the previous three days worth of assessing and evaluating the current condition of Konoha's military.
"Neko is a promising Captain in our ANBU. Unfortunately, she suffered a tragic loss during the break between the second and third tests of the exam when her fiance was murdered through hostile action."
"You said murdered." It was not spoken as a question. Curious eyes flickered up to drill into the hermit's conscience and, for the first time, Jiraiya flinched.
"You know who the murderer was." Another flat accusation Jiraiya couldn't deny. The flat tone clearly indicated it wasn't a question but Jiraiya nodded anyway. "Does she know?"
Jiraiya's second nod made one of those immaculately trimmed eyebrows rise.
"Has this villain been brought to justice?" The daimyo's tone was accusatory and inquisitive in the same breath.
A gentle shake of the shaggy white mane sent the other eyebrow upwards demanding an explanation the Daimyo expected no one would be happy with.
"And... she knows of this?"
With a heavy sigh, Jiraiya set aside the report indicating the half-dead kunoichi found near the outskirts of the Market District and what he felt drove her to such a violent state during the invasion.
~III~
Flashback to a Week Before the Finals
"Care to explain this, Neko-chan?"
Hiruzen Sarutobi was standing next to his desk to better observe the unkempt mane of purple hair framing the animalized mask of one of his favorite and most trusted agents. He was trying to portray the image of a proper Hokage with one hand tucked neatly behind his back and the other holding up a standard form filled with mangled script barely fit for a grade-schooler.
The signs were there. Now that he stood over her kneeling form he could see them as clear as day.
The old-timers called it "Battle Fatigue." Younger medics drifted towards more clinically-accepted terms like "war neurosis" as a means to slap a diagnostic label to it. In even smaller circles, romantics let their eyes mist over with silly references of a "soldier's heart." Hiruzen swept them all to the side knowing that her wobbly and withering frame encapsulated it all as the post-traumatic stress that had finally caught up to poor Yugao and there wasn't much he could do about it.
Hiruzen was a learned man but even he had his limits and the soft sciences were definitely beyond his reach. What's more, Konoha's current precipice meant her sloppily scrawled request for a sabbatical would have to be put on hold and the metaphorical pain of that kunai wound made him hate the heavy hat on his head even more.
"I need... time, Hokage-sama," she all but pleaded in the faintest of whispers.
Her voice was so fragile in the silence of his office it seemed paper-thin. A strong gust of wind could have snatched her words away before they reached his sharp ears.
"As I am now..." she began, her body swaying slightly as if that same breeze could lay her low just as easily.
"I am going to set this aside, Neko, just until this week is over. I swear you'll get all the time you need to properly mourn, to heal."
The hunched figure at his feet did not shift or shuffle though he could almost see her deflate just that much more. Nothing in her posture showed to the village's most powerful shinobi that his pleas for her to "hold on" fell upon uncaring ears. "I understand, Hokage-sama."
There was a gust of wind as she vanished from the office to report back to her assigned team for the assault.
"You don't need her for this." The recrimination in his student's voice only added more weight to his already overflowing plate of shame.
"Since when have you decided to wear 'the hat', my student?"
"Oh, can the obfuscation, sensei!" Jiraiya felt that familiar batch of bile rising up in his gorge. "There is nothing you can say to me to make me believe she's stable enough in her right mind to function as a proper ANBU Captain let alone a foot soldier."
The older man tsked in annoyance as he reached for the next document in his never-ending stack of paperwork only to stop when the meaty hand of his student slammed down on top of it. The desk didn't buckle under the impact but it did shudder drawing the narrowed eyebrows of the Sandaime Hokage up from his now delayed work to match glares with his powerful Sannin.
Jiraiya's "She found out, didn't she," was not a question, his firm belief only reinforced when his teacher's face hardened. The bullish Sannin plowed on anyway.
"She's a Captain in the Special Operations branch of the shinobi forces," his words slow as he mulled it over. "Of course she'd find out." His eyes retracted from whatever fictional land he concocted his story plots from and zeroed in on the Sandaime's face.
"As a high-ranking officer, she'd have access to the reports she needed. It was either that or she called in some pretty heavy favors considering how close she was to the victim."
"Jiraiya, let it go," Hiruzen growled almost under his own breath.
"I'll bet she even confronted you to find out if what she'd heard was true." Jiraiya's hand lifted from the soulless stack of documents to the equally soulless eyes of his teacher, a man he loved almost as much as he loved his once-prized student, Minato.
"But you denied her request as would be prudent under shinobi wartime ethics." Jiraiya's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Of course you would."
A harsh burst of air got sucked in through the younger nin's teeth in disgust.
"Which is why she wanted time off to deal with it herself. You wouldn't let her go after him..." Jiraiya's disbelieving steps backed him away from his growing sense of revulsion at the wisened Hokage.
"...because you need him for political leverage more than you need to allow her closure after losing the love of her life."
Sarutobi didn't respond but that was perfectly fine for Jiraiya. The resounding silence from the far side of the desk was all the confirmation the Toad Sage needed.
~III~
Council Chamber, Current Time
"The rest is history, as they say," Jiraiya proffered with another heavy sigh. "There were clear signs of the poor kunoichi spiraling after she was told her lover's murderer was off-limits leading up to her rage-fueled massacre of every enemy she could get her blade on in the Market mop-up operation, both Oto and Suna-borne."
"She knew the risks of falling in love with another shinobi," a particularly churlish civilian called out and, while true, it was the most basic of mercenary mentalities enjoyed by those privileged enough to not have to fight and die.
The fool was promptly shouted down by the shinobi clan heads, their heated responses supported by a few of the married civilians on his side of the room.
A very stunned Daimyo was shaking his head and trying to reconcile the means with the end result. While he abhorred the blatant manipulation of loyal shinobi to this degree, he wasn't foolish enough to cut Hiruzen's knees out from underneath him. How could he when he'd done pretty much the same with his own troops, a once small voice in the back of his head growing louder in its admonishments of shady behaviors in powerful rulers.
Refusing to berate his Kage for the same behaviors he'd exhibited in the capital, Masato pushed past it to what he wanted to know about the distraught kunoichi.
"Will she survive?"
Jiraiya grunted in the affirmative. "Docs say she'll be weak for some time but the agent is salvageable physically. What remains of her mind is yet to be seen. In the meantime, she has the full support of several kunoichis from her year group."
"...but not her ANBU brothers and sisters?"
Jiraiya's wince was very noticeable.
"Daimyo-sama," Mebuki spoke up cautiously continuing once her voice had been acknowledged. "The shinobi she killed belonged to both Oto and Suna, the latter being the source of our current treaty issues."
Masato nodded grimly fully aware that his counterpart was strongly demanding that she be handed over to face justice. Masato was also of the mind to tell them to piss off despite the headaches it could cause him later.
Mebuki continued. "Standard procedure in diplomatic relations will include months of negotiation to rework the proper trade and military agreements given that most of Suna's anger centers around what Agent Neko did in violating our agreed-upon plan to counter the attack."
"A plan they only agreed to once they were found out and that was after their Jounin murdered Hayate Gekko in cold blood!" Tsume roared from her side of the room. "When are they going to pay up for that?" she snarled back.
Mebuki flinched but tried to stand up to her debate partner.
"As a result, she has been placed on administrative leave without pay pending an investigation by Torture and Interrogation." Her tired eyes switched from the Daimyo to the sour-faced Inuzuka matriarch. "Surely one Jounin is fair compensation for a stronger alliance?"
While Chouza snorted back his incredulous position on her crass comment, Tsume's, "Clearly Neko-chan disagrees with you," ended the discussion.
"I agree with Tsume-chan," Masato crisply stated before turning to Jiraiya with a final order on the matter. "Ensure she is safe and provided for. I will deal with Suguru-dono."
Jiraiya bowed sharply. "It will be done Masato-sama."
That seemed to brighten the Daimyo's demeanor considerably.
"Good." He glanced over to meet Jiraiya's hands for the next docket and grimaced at the thick folder bearing a clan crest he very much wanted to avoid.
"Really? Can't we push this off to the end, Jiraiya-kun?"
The Daimyo's petulant tone did little to stave off what he believed would be a very painful conversation.
"We've already pushed this off for two days, M'Lord."
Another heavy sigh from the capital politician before a muttered, "I'll never get back to your latest masterpiece at this rate" earned him a wide grin from the Toad Sage.
"We need to resolve this before it becomes too late to correct the problem. She is still missing, dono." Jiraiya locked eyes with the most powerful man in his village and let loose a soft sigh once the tassled crown dipped once to move the conversation along.
Drawing in a strong lungful, Jiraiya bellowed out, "Summon the Hyuuga Council of Elders."
It was joined by the Daimyo's quick, "...and bring us all some lunch from the Golden Leaf!" once his stomach roared its protest.
~III~
Konoha General
Everything came to a halt after the invasion puttered out. Non-hostile dignitaries were sequestered in their hotel rooms pending the "all-clear" while Konoha licked its wounds and assessed the damage, which most knew amounted to very little on behalf of the Hidden Leaf. Naruto just assumed since friendly casualties were ridiculously low that things would return to normal in short order and his former village would settle all accounts post-haste.
He never knew just how much time could be spent meeting and discussing and angsting over reparations after the fact and, as Uzushio was still an ally on the books, he and Keina spent many, many hours in the Council Chamber the first day and a half listening to politicians drone on about "what they felt Konoha was owed."
It amazed him just how much people not involved in any of the fighting felt they were owed by the inconvenience of it all. The greed sickened him especially when dirty old codgers began plotting to marry off the Kazekage's eldest as a means of leverage.
It became less amazing when they started tossing his name around as a potential candidate ending in his insult-filled rant earning him a "polite invitation to rest and recover far away from the stress of it inter-village politics."
Apparently that meant he needed to go somewhere other than the Council chamber so they could focus on "important internal matters of state."
Naruto had been more than happy to get kicked out once the Konoha Council turned to internal affairs not meant for Uzu ears but that was then. Now, now he stood in a plain hospital room staring down at the comatose body of Yugao Uzuki, who should have been kept in the secure ANBU ward for her own protection, his face beginning to sour with what he was hearing from one of the three women sitting next to her bed.
She looked so pale and delicate with the covers tucked up around her collarbone, the machine steadily beeping in time to her heart. It didn't matter that a pair of his clones returning from hunting Oto summoning groups beyond the village walls found her, patched her up as best they could, then rushed her to the hospital. Konoha, it would seem, was determined to inflict additional injury instead of providing her the help she should have received when Hayate passed away.
"You don't owe us anything but you sure as hell owe her!"
"Hana!" Anko, who had closed to speak with her favorite gaki rounded on the overbearing Inuzuka to head off a crap storm they didn't need at the moment.
"No, Anko! She was there for him and now she needs his help! He's in a position to-"
Whatever she was going to say got cut off when Kurenai grabbed her by the collar and yanked the angry Chunin out into the hallway for a "private conversation" with a curt, "Excuse us while I help her get her head on straight."
Once the door slammed shut with a heavy thud, Anko tried to put an embarrassed smile on her face in hopes of easing whatever damage was left.
"Don't let what she said get to you, Foxy." One of her hands lifted from clasping his right hand to gently rub his cheek. "Yugao would never hold her looking out for baby-Gaki-you over your head."
Red-rimmed sapphires worked their way up from said ANBU's pale face to a very warm pair of milk chocolate eyes and Anko realized just how lost he really must have been. It was a good plan but he couldn't be everywhere for everyone.
Apparently, Gaki didn't agree.
"I just...," she paused to take a heavy breath, "I just hoped you would consider taking her in as an asylum once the Council strips her of her service."
Both pairs of eyes swiveled back to the bed.
"You sure they'll do that? That seems pretty extreme for defending your home village."
Anko's snort was more bitter than sweet. "They were pretty clear that Suna shinobi were to be spared unless they betrayed the agreement. Yu-chan went after a whole squad of them near the end." Anko's weary smile hardened as worry began to bleed over into frustration.
"There are three dead and four more wounded by her hand and Suna is screaming for her blood but I'll be damned if I let them take her after what they did."
"Are you sure she'd willingly accept my help?"
Anko turned to face him, both hands cupping his cheeks as she forced him to lock stares with her. "You let me worry about that part."
"Okay then." His smile was a fragile thing. "What's one more stray to the family?"
Her smile lit up the room as the half-head taller Tokujo smashed her lips against his until the need for air became a priority.
Besides, her kiss muffled his surprised squeak of protest once her left hand shot down and grabbed a handful of Gaki butt-cheek.
~III~
Council Chamber, Lunch Time
"Mrphlrrgl unk nngah gnggrrrr?"
Two dozen pairs of eyes, including Jiraiya's scrunched up in thought as they tried to make heads or tails out their Daimyo's latest question. After more than a few hopeless faces looked to one another in the faintest hopes that someone caught it, they all turned back to the overly full chipmunk pouches on Masato's face with confused faces aplenty.
"Gngrrr!"
Chewing frantically, he washed down the horribly fried foods his loving family refused to let him have back home with liberal doses of plum rice wine and a satisfied sigh.
"Buuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrp!"
"Ah! Pardon my lack of manners," Masato sighed in relief. "I asked when will the Hyuuga get here?"
Truth be told, he was enjoyed his lunch of appetizers made from every fried food he could find on the menu and wasn't particularly looking forward to the snooty clan's arrival. Calamari waged war with Rangoon and spring rolls in a greasy fight to the finish and he loved it. All of it.
But alas, absolute peace was not to be had in the interlude.
Twenty minutes after ANBU was sent to summon the Hyuuga Elders, the chamber doors open to admit what remained of the Hyuuga retinue, their faces pinched in proverbial outrage. Crunching loudly on one of his deep-fried crab and cream cheese confections, Masato crunched extra loudly hoping to annoy them further before setting his sights on Hideo, the one believed to be the current ring leader.
"Daimyo-sama," the former clan head crowed smooth as silk. Even as the much older man straightened before the entire council, his body settled gracefully into rock-faced neutrality. "The Hyuuga endeavor to serve, as always."
Jiraiya's "Sure you do" wasn't given the simple batting of an eyelash.
"Hideo-kun," Masato began, "I was wondering if you could tell me how your investigation is going. I've heard nothing back from you over the last few days and I will need to leave after the much-delayed state dinner tomorrow night."
Several stoic Hyuuga gazes blinked behind Hideo's reserved demeanor.
"My Lord, we expect it will be several days yet before we can untangle this mystery," he countered smoothly. Too smoothly.
"Rest assured that the Hyuuga will leave no stone unturned until we unravel this mystery and recover the missing heiress." Hideo's wrinkled hands settled calmly in the sleeves of his kimono as he awaited the Daimyo's direction.
"What do you mean, 'the heiress is missing,' Hideo-kun?"
If the older Hyuuga was nonplussed at the diminutive suffix, it did not show in his reply. Nor did he flinch at the Daimyo's accusatory tone.
"My apologies, Daimyo-sama. I was under the impression that our report to the Hokage would have been passed to you when we reported Hanabi Hyuuga, my granddaughter, never returned to the compound."
Hideo's face was the picture of gentle uncertainty in calm repose, one eyebrow raised in a question aimed at Jiraiya.
"Oh, your report did find its way into my hands, Hideo-kun." Masato paused to sip a freshly-poured saucer courtesy of his Sannin drinking buddy. "There are just a few items that need clarification before we can officially close the case."
Relief flickered across more than one Hyuuga face, their relief almost palpable at the idea that the Daimyo himself would validate their well-crafted scheme.
"We await your command, My Lord."
Hideo's bow oozed smugness and that rankled the Lord of Fire Country even as he nodded over his shoulder to Ibiki.
With an audible click and the electric hum of a large screen coming to life, the still bowed interim clan head for the Hyuuga rotated his face enough to look behind him at the large monitor showing a different section of the stadium during the attack. He could hear kunai ringing against each other, in some cases their owners crying out in agony but the sounds were faint.
No, what caught his attention more was the scene playing out before the entire Council of Hideo and his clan, the image centered on their private box. From the view angle, the camera had an unobstructed view of the battle that occurred amongst the Hyuuga.
He could clearly see the guards in the rear of the viewing box being struck down by more Hyuuga replacements.
He could clearly see Elder Hansuke murder one of his own clansmen before closing to engage his son, Hiashi.
He saw the same son desperately use the Kaiten to reach his daughter.
Then he witnessed that same son die at his feet from his own lethal strike to the man's back.
By the time everyone in the chamber watched the prone and unconscious clan members being sealed in stasis scrolls, and this included the young Hanabi Hyuuga, Hideo's stone face had returned and his back was once again ram-rod straight.
"Are you sure you wish to keep to your original story?"
The Daimyo's question was lightly spoken but something dark in his eyes gave the eldest Hyuuga pause. He spent several seconds locking eyes with the ruler of Hi no Kuni then the man's equally stone-faced advisors as his mind weighed the successful chance of escaping the chamber he was strategically placed in the center of, let alone the entire village with his clan.
For the briefest moments of crystal-clear insanity, he actually considered attacking the Daimyo of Hi no Kuni to save his own hide and the members of the Hyuuga Clan.
His clan. The words rang softly in his ears as he stared down the sword-bearing general gripping his pommel hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
As nice as the words sounded, his actions in the next ten seconds would determine what happened to the rest of the Hyuuga and Hideo couldn't justify being known as the one responsible for its removal from the world.
He was confident that the Hyuuga could survive without him or any of the cowering simps shaking behind him. Hideo only had to make sure the two most dangerous men in the room had no reason to go after his remaining clan. Turning back to the Daimyo and his new "Sannin Buddy," Hideo Hyuuga straightened his shoulders and released a quiet breath, his last as a Hyuuga elite.
With deliberate slowness, he withdrew his right hand from his left sleeve holding aloft the green stasis scroll used to safely transport the wounded and prisoners, a scroll once meant for Provost Itou as a sign of their treasonous agreement.
~III~
Konoha General - High-Security Wing
Masato kept chanting to himself that he was almost done. One more visit and then the wrap-up state dinner tomorrow and he could finally go home.
Home.
The word seemed so foreign at the moment given his concern of a life-long friend. Hiruzen had been around nearly all of his life, even before he swore the same oath sworn by his father under the guidance of the same priests. It all seemed like so long ago...
It only served to make him shuffle faster from the council chamber, across the village, and into the hospital lobby.
Masato Shijimi, Fifth of his Name, Fire Daimyo and regional lord of Hi no Kuni, was a red and gold gilded butterfly as his robes of authority swirled about his spindly legs like the flames of an angry god. No-one stopped them as he breezed through security to what was perhaps the most secured location in Konohagakure no Sato.
The hospital room currently occupied by members of the Sarutobi Clan.
With the Hyuuga debacle mostly behind him (he knew there were pieces still missing from the puzzle but the villains were refusing to speak), he could only do soo much while waiting for the famed Yamanaka Clan to work their mind magic. Instead, he preferred to keep busy with what was within his reach and that meant dealing with Sarutobi himself.
"Daimyo-sama-."
Masato held off Jiraiya with a raised palm. He was familiar with what happened just as he was familiar with the risks of what was being proffered as a solution. While he found the stories Jiraiya shared about Naruto-kun's clones disrupting the snake summoning rituals out past the walls, he was trying to focus on the difficult conversation that lay ahead and the deception that led up to it all.
Secretly he hated all the secrecy of the shinobi world despite knowing that it served a very necessary purpose. In the end, all it does is ruin people's lives and foster distrust. How can people live like that?
Brushing it away with a thought, they both paused to answer the daily challenge issued by the full squad of black-masked ANBU standing outside the sole door at the end of the hallway. Masato bore it all with tightly-pursed lips to hide his nervousness. His pair of guards could not hope to survive against these four dark-faced killers should they fail this authentication challenge and he knew it.
No one survived the "Black" for long.
Licking suddenly parched lips, the two were allowed to pass through without his dual escort. Perhaps it was for the best when he saw the windowless sight after the door closed and the soft green lights over the solitary bed flickered back to life with a hum.
Masato held back Jiraiya for a few minutes to allow the shrouded figure standing next to Tsunade to finish their conversation. It was the respectful thing to do after all.
It was the least they could do after what Jiraiya shared on the walk over to the hospital.
"Why are you here, Jiraiya?"
The Sannin flinched at the weary tone in a voice that once delighted at his presence, that once enjoyed his tawdry stories of daring-do. Jiraiya found himself saddened by the still angry voice of his former teacher.
With the Daimyo taking his place to the old man's left, Jiraiya stopped just behind the two. He'd never wilted from a fight and he wasn't about to start now.
"Do not be angry with him Hiruzen-kun. I forced him to come with me now that you've cooped yourself up in here with those killers outside."
The Sandaime ignored the jibe of his superior. Once he'd finally broken free from the trap laid by members of his own summoning clan, he'd rushed back in time to see the conclusion of "his" fight with Orochimaru only he wasn't inside the seal.
Perhaps it was poor timing on his part given the rage his former student flew into. Hiruzen still winced reflexively at the sight of that wicked blade piercing the back of his son, the poisoned tip sliding through his ribs and beyond his chest.
It didn't matter that the figure wearing his face landed a telling blow, his first of the fight with the adamantine staff. Despite the burst of blood, Orochimaru growled in apparent triumph at least until a hairy palm shot from the end section of the staff and slammed into the partially-folded chest of the Snake Sannin.
The screams that erupted from Orochimaru's mouth...
Hiruzen shivered never having heard such a thing and the memory shook him to his very being. He was so shaken that the murderous fiend escaped with three of his four guards, the fourth having been snugly wrapped in a wooden cocoon compliments of one Naruto Uzumaki - another secret to unravel at a later date.
"His being here, Daimyo-sama may be your doing but he carries his own fair share of guilt in this affair." Hiruzen's voice was hard as iron as he stood over the bed of his eldest son, the man's face pale and drawn in the warm green light of the Iryojutsu stasis field helping to slow the spread of the poison while Tsunade removed it bit by bit each day since it happened.
"You realize this was your son's idea, don't you?" Masato's tone was gentle but insistent.
"A Hokage that cannot trust in his shinobi, cannot rule, Lord Shijimi."
The silence grew among the four figures huddled around the sedated figure.
"Ah, yes. That little segue brings us to the point of this visit."
Jiraiya was more than happy to let the two older men speak. He personally didn't think he could improve the situation now. Maybe months down the line once his son, Hyousuke, recovered he could make inroads to rebuild their relationship.
Not now though. Chances were few and far between with the Tsunade's career-ending prognosis. Nope, those wounds were too fresh to pick at.
Hiruzen's head was raised enough to finally see the dim light in his eyes but very little else before he donned his hat once more burying his face in eerie shadow.
"I've heard the arguments before and my mind remains unchanged."
Here the Toad Sage could hold back no longer and exclaimed, "You know how he feels about Naruto! You appoint him and the boy is as good as gone!"
Hiruzen's head swiveled enough to affix an angry stare upon his once student. Maybe someday he could look on him with something other than anger but not today. Today all he could do was wish him harm regardless of whom else fell before the scythe.
"A sitting Hokage has the leeway to name their successor."
Jiraiya could literally feel the old man's gaze harden beneath the shadows of his hat.
"You had your chance to prevent that," he turned to Tsunade briefly, "both of you did and you scorned it."
With a disgusted sigh, the Sandaime turned back to the unconscious man that should have been sworn in next week as the Godaime Hokage.
"I suppose you'll just have to live with the disappointment. Won't you?"
~III~
"Why are you fighting this?"
Inari's question was straight forward like most things he did since Nami's liberation. See a problem? Attack it head-on! If he learned anything from Gato's reign of terror, hiding and waiting for someone else to fix your problems tended to mean that you hid for a ridiculously long time. Sometimes it meant a lot of suffering for a lot of people other than yourself.
So why wait and prolong what's going to happen anyway? It wasn't like his one-sided conversation partner could go back where he came from. He'd stated as much himself the day he arrived.
Not that such a simple plan of action eased the taller boy's - at least he thought it was a boy - stress-filled face.
Then, just as the bridge builder's apprentice was about to write the taller figure off, something clicked and the pacing stopped. Inari was given one last piercing gaze before a stupidly-long mass of brown hair twirled about only to flutter off after its emotionally distraught owner.
Inari wiped his brow and smiled even as a glass of cold lemonade appeared over his left shoulder, a deeper voice chuckling at the rapidly disappearing sandals headed towards the northwestern beaches of the island.
"Think he'll make it all the way this time?"
Inari shrugged even as heavy gulps drained his glass.
"Dunno about that, Taji, but I sure hope he does." Inari's eyes narrowed as the figure finally vanished from sight. "This Naruto-sama he praises all the time clearly went through a lot to get him here so I want to believe in him."
Inari had no idea who the guy Neji defended fiercely when he argued with his mom but Haku knew him and that was enough for him. Haku-chan, despite what she and her now-dead master did, fought to keep him and his mother alive. Some liked to say you can't make up for the wrong she'd done but Inari had made peace with it.
Besides without her he wouldn't be around to keep Tazuna's memory alive. He, a student hoping to fill his sofu's sandals, wouldn't have been able to help the bridge crews decipher the blueprints and finish The Super-Great Tazuna Bridge.
Inari stood and stretched before turning to head into the house. His mother would be happy to be rid of the ex-Leaf nin even if she'd rather they not be anywhere near her home. Speaking of which...
"That doesn't mean my faith in him translates to you!"
The man called Taji whined aloud.
"Hey, you want my mom you gotta earn the right to love her!" Inari's cheeky grin showed his words weren't intended to be harsh.
"That means you sleep on the couch tonight mister!"
Taji's head sunk almost to his chest in defeat.
Far from the unhappy Taji Yamazaki, Neji was making determined strides along the sandy beaches of Nami no Kuni, his sandals churning the sand given his complete lack of concentration. He'd put off this final stage of his journey trying to build up his courage, or so he told himself, when he knew deep down it was his fear preventing his taking the last step.
His father was dead.
Everyone in the clan knew it. Everyone in the village knew it but could only suspect the reason behind his untimely death.
None of that mattered as his breathing began to labor in the sandy earth at his feet. Only placing one foot in front of the other mattered now. He had to be sure if he was going to push on with his own life and the only way to be sure was to see it with his own eyes, fate be damned.
Nervous fingers brushed against the smooth and unblemished skin of his forehead out of recent habit proving to himself once again that Fate could be changed with the right helping hand. He needed to have faith, something tough for a shinobi to embrace.
Soon, the light forests of Nami turned to wide-opened dunes and rock formations. Before he knew it, Neji was clambering over larger rocky outcroppings and down into a fairly isolated lagoon. Nestled near the tree line sat a wood and bamboo house raised on stilts in the island fashion, a small hut to the side holding gear and tackle known to fishermen.
Neji couldn't recall how or when he ended up standing before the simple one-story structure yet there he was admiring its grace amidst the peacefully crashing waves of the clear blue-green water behind him. He stood there for some time as the sun continued its steady march across the heavens.
"Remember to breathe Zashi-kun. I'm sure it will happen today."
The woman's voice called out from inside the house's open door shocking him from his daze, clear eyes flitting about nervously looking for some sign of the speaker or whom they were speaking to.
"I don't know, Miku-chan," a mellow male responded.
His heart thumped painfully then. Neji knew that voice to the pained bones of his soul!
"He will hate me once he finds out that I've been here waiting for Naruto-sama to free him."
Neji's mouth opened and closed wordlessly. His head was sweeping anxiously from side to side, his Byakugan forgotten for the moment.
"I thought you said this Naruto-person insisted on doing it this way?" Whoever she was sounded a bit irate as if this was an old conversation.
"Naruto-sama," Neji could hear the emphasis in the male's voice and smiled despite his nerves, "saved my life and promised to reunite me with my son and I have no reason to doubt him."
Neji could hear a heavy male sigh and automatically began smoothing down his robes and making sure he was presentable, all the while his feet stayed stuck in place at the bottom of the small flight of stairs leading up to the front porch of the house. His frantic self-adjusting came to an abrupt halt when a fair-skinned girl near his age with dark brown hair pattered to a stop at the top of those stairs and blinked down at him.
He blinked back as the two sized each other up and her face broke out into a huge smile.
"Mooooooooooooooom!" She happily called out despite Neji's frantic hand waving and shushing. "We have a visitor~!"
Neji briefly gnashed his teeth until a taller male strode out onto the porch behind the smaller female followed by an older woman bearing a strong resemblance to the still-smiling girl smirking down at him.
"Neji..." It was a nervous gasp more than anything as pale eyes met their reflection in Neji formerly of the Hyuuga.
With a choked and strangled voice, Neji answered with a polite bow and a nervous, "Father."
~III~
A/N: Remember to read, follow, and review if you are so inclined.
~III~
Seven Easy Steps to Ninja Stardom
by Minato Namikaze
Chapter 7: Fear is the Slayer of Dreams...
…so live fearlessly. Dream courageously.
There is so much more I could say. I could ramble on about eating your vegetables and treating others with respect but you're a bright lad, I'm sure. I know that you know right from wrong, good from evil (and if you don't, your mother will set you straight in the Pure World).
What I mean by living fearlessly is two-fold.
The first is to be brave in the face of danger, perhaps simple to say but most difficult to do. Human nature can be described as "Fight or Flight," and often is, however, there is a third response: Panic. Panic can cause you to flee for safety and it can force you to stand frozen in place as your life flashes before your eyes, a most unsettling experience every shinobi faces at some point in their career. It is what you do in that moment that matters most.
The fire brigade runs towards situations that could claim their very lives if they perform poorly. Shinobi run towards dangerous situations and people that have the very real possibility of claiming their lives, or worse if you're a kunoichi. It is the true measure of a shinobi to be able to face that danger head-on knowing that their guts are twisted in that retched bile you can taste as your heart thunders in your blood.
Know that you will not be alone just as you to will face fear. Know this in advance and prepare yourself as best your able. Don't think you're strong enough to swallow that soul-crushing terror by yourself? Then draw upon your comrades or someone you hold near and dear to your heart. It's what I did.
Yes, I felt fear. Yes, I to wanted to flee to safety and wish away the fear that threatened to swallow me whole. Every shinobi does and, if they deny it, know they're lying through their crooked teeth.
The difference is that I have a bigger fear, one that is tied to the welfare of my loved ones, and, in drawing on that fear of harm befalling them, it became my greatest strength for I'd rather die a thousand times than allow them to suffer once.
For it is when we have something to protect, something truly precious to us, that we discover entirely new depths of courage and strength before unknown to us.
The second meaning to living fearlessly is far simpler a concept to explain.
It means live your life honorably and in a manner worthy of respect. By doing so, you have nothing to fear when your life gets placed beneath the scrutinizing microscope of your shinobi peers, and trust me when I say that a powerful shinobi always finds themselves under the scrutiny of others looking to gain an advantage, most often than not the politically-inclined sort of leverage.
It is by living honorably that we can conduct ourselves without fear of condemnation and, in doing so, set the example for others to follow even in the darkest of times.
Die well, brave shinobi. May your sacrifice strengthen the Great Tree you serve and all who dwell beneath its shade.
~III~