Note : I'm really sorry for the delay. I have a lot going on in my life right now and very little time to write. The French chapter has been posted for almost a month, I only finished the translation today and I apologize for that. This chapter was also very difficult to translate, I apologize in advance if some parts seem poorly translated, I hope this will not be the case. I hope you'll enjoy reading it.
Chapter size : 11000 words.
The Tower that lights up the Valleys
Part 4
Naruto
February 2 1015, 1:21 a.m.
Mount Myōboku
The pain had been immeasurable... no... it still was. He called it pain, but was that really the right word, or did he simply have no other to describe this weight?
Curse? Burden? Injustice.
A gaping hole in his chest that had held back his tears for days and now restricted his movements, prevented him from moving on.
He was powerless, weak, couldn't do anything about it, didn't want to do anything about it. It was these feelings that wouldn't let him look away, that prevented him from seeing his future as he was so obsessed with his past.
He remembered nothing of that afternoon, only a few images interspersed with words that came back to him every time he closed his eyes: it had been a long time since he'd seen so little daylight.
Jiraiya, his master, the one who had taught him everything, who had sacrificed his life so that he could live his own as a newborn, had taken it literally. The Sannin was dead and he remembered nothing, only the red clouds, the orange mask and the concentric-eyed gods.
Shima had told him in detail what she and Fukasaku had witnessed. Wounded, lying on the bed for two full days after being unconscious for two weeks, he had done nothing but listen.
Jiraiya had hastily summoned the two elders and the battle had raged for over an hour. An hour in which the forest had burned, in which the landscape had been terraformed, in which the opponent had not been exhausted.
After he had lost control, he had fought not only the gods and the masked man, but also them, Shima, Fukasaku and Jiraiya, everyone who stood in his way. One rabbit, four trees, eight flies. One tail, four tails, eight tails.
Realizing that the outcome of the encounter had already been decided, Jiraiya had asked the two hermits to do something unlikely, but the toads had complied: a reverse summoning.
When Shima had told him about it, he hadn't had to think for a second to understand that the summoning was not for the Sannin, but for him, for the uncontrollable beast he had become. He had never seen Jiraiya run away, and even that day, Jiraiya hadn't backed down, hadn't abandoned him.
The two hermits had returned to the mountain in a cloud of smoke and gone to the temple to summon him with the blood he had left on the second copy of the scroll the Sannin carried: the contract he had signed with the toads.
The two hermits could have summoned Jiraiya first, but the former Sannin had been clear: "Naruto first, then me.". The fifty-year-old couldn't afford to leave him alone, even for a few seconds, even if he was now the size of a building.
The old batrachians had not had time to warn or evacuate anyone. In the middle of the afternoon, a forty-meter-long furless fox had appeared in the middle of the Mount and had begun to destroy everything. Homes, women, children... starting with the Summoning Temple.
Jiraiya had not been able to be summoned to the Mount.
For over twenty minutes, in the form of a raging fox, he had ravaged absolutely everything until, without any of the toads facing him knowing why or how, Kyūbi had simply vanished.
That afternoon, he had injured thousands of toads, killed one thousand two hundred and sixty-six of them, including forty-two who had been born that very year.
He had killed Fukasaku.
A reverse summoning was very demanding on chakra, especially if the entity being summoned didn't know about it, didn't want it, especially if it was a demon. The patriarch had passed away only ten minutes after Kyubi's disappearance, only after making sure that no one else was in danger.
In less than an hour, the two father figures who had guided his life had died, a fact confirmed three hours after the tragedy by the impossibility of summoning the former Sannin to the Mount, even though the Summoning Temple had been quickly rebuilt.
He didn't know if Shima had lied to him about it, if the patriarch had died of exhaustion after summoning him as she had said, or if he had murdered Fukasaku with his own hands, but the facts were there: even if he was not conscious of it, he now had blood on his hands, on his conscience… if he still had one.
For more than two months he had wondered how, how he could look at himself in the mirror. How could he look at someone who knew what he'd done?
His reflection had been taken from him.
Sitting cross-legged in the center of the unadorned wooden hut, eyes closed, palms resting on his knees, he inhaled deeply. Holding his breath after the umpteenth unwanted thought, he exhaled softly.
An incandescent, predatory gaze forced its way into his mind, and a grimace distorted his features. Shaking his face, he put on a concentrated expression before a raucous laugh snapped him out of his torpor once more.
Teeth clenched, eyes still closed, a pulse of chakra escaped from his body, making the small wooden hut vibrate and waking the birds perched on the flora. He took a deep breath, sighed softly, and remained motionless for several seconds, trying to achieve what he was seeking, the state he desired.
His right eardrum began to hiss before his left did the same. A hot breath swept through his golden hair, and the orange mask kept him from forgetting.
A second pulse of chakra escaped from his being, but this time charged with nature, it didn't just shake the wooden hut, it pulverized it, literally. The roof ripped off, followed by the walls, which exploded and fell to pieces below, tearing the foliage from the immense multicolored plants.
A few seconds later, calm restored, he opened his azure eyes and gazed up at the cloudy night sky. From his perch on the wooden foundation of the hut he'd built when he was five, he sighed a third time before rising to his feet.
Dusting off his black shorts and white T-shirt, he looked at the concentrated expressions as far as the eye could see, at the thousands copies of himself meditating on the tops of plants, trees and flowers, on the water of the lake, on bridges and dirt roads.
In the blink of an eye, four thousand clones vanished in a puff of smoke.
He closed his eyes a second time and, lifting his face against the cool breeze, fatigue began to set in as a satisfied smile materialized on his face. With relish he welcomed the punishment, the mental fatigue of four thousand shadow clones silencing his every thought, his every recalcitrant memory.
Heat spread through his neck and, losing his balance, he fell headlong into the void. The first leaf, twice his size, caught him hard before breaking and sending him crashing into a second, a third, and a seventh. Finally, and horizontally, he reached the ground with a thud and a cloud of dust.
Accompanied by the silence of his thoughts, his smile remained.
He didn't know how long he stayed there, enjoying the lull, but when he opened his eyes, the sun had already risen.
Lying back, he turned his face toward the lake, the shimmering water, and watched the reflection of the blinding orange fireball. When his cornea had had enough, he struggled to his feet and began to walk, his eyes downcast.
He passed under the countless colorful plants, through the endless charred holes, before arriving under a huge trunk and pushing open the immense, multi-ton doors.
Stepping onto the concrete floor, and without paying the slightest attention to the scenery he knew only too well, he moved forward until he came to a halt about ten meters from the imposing toad.
Purple, old, wearing a black hat and a pearl necklace, and about twenty meters tall, the ancient batrachian was sleeping peacefully. At least, that's what he thought when he observed him, because as soon as he stopped, the eyelids of the thousand-year-old toad opened.
With a slow, respectful movement, he bowed before the bulging eyes.
Silence reigned until he straightened, until the weary voice of the Great Sage was heard.
"You... wish to ask me... a question... my child?"
At the name, he tilted his face to the concrete for a second time and couldn't help but chuckle. A weary laugh shook his shoulders. Filled with bitterness, his chuckle ended in sadness, but despite that, and despite a beading of tears, his smile remained, and the question that had brought him this far vanished.
- My child...?" he repeated in a bitter tone, raising his exhausted face. "You feel no hatred when you look at me, not the slightest bit of anger after what I've done, really?"
He clutched his shirt to his heart and the smile that adorned his face vanished in turn.
"My... child?" he repeated again in an incredulous voice, his intonation rising in disbelief. "Have the years filled your heart with dust? Do you have one? Your children outside have one, I can see it in their eyes, why don't you? Why are you so lenient with me?! Hate me! Has your memory failed you?! I killed your children! I did it! Insult me, banish me, stop calling me that! All those I killed, do you think they're happy that you forgive me?"
His throat tightened, the echo of his voice faded into the infinity of the room, and, clutching his hair, he almost lost his balance again as his energy drained away.
"Why... tell me why."
He could feel the fox's anger coursing through his veins, but despite the incandescent look that must be animating his face, the toad simply keep smiled at him, which calmed him instantly. Beneath his chest, which heaved with each jerky breath, he stared at the batrachian which opened his mouth.
"Why would you... want me to feel that way? You say that my children... are watching us from up there... if that's the case... don't you think... anger is the last thing on their minds?"
He fell to his knees in front of the stone throne and the two small empty seats, and for the umpteenth time, his eyes fell to the ground.
The thousand-year-old stamp continued.
"I feel... nothing but anger in you... do you think... he's happy to see you like this?"
He lifted his azure gaze to the Great Sage. With a sudden movement, he thumped his chest and glared at the toad, his knuckles clutching his shirt.
"What shall I do then? What shall I do, eh? You see the future, tell me what I should do, where I should go, who I should kill, how I can avenge him?"
The toad watched him without a word, which caused his lips to open again, leading him a second time to ease, to anger, to tears.
"Tell me, damn it! I've been asking you for two months! Why won't you help me?! Why?! Why do you let these people go unpunished?! Help me avenge his death! Didn't you consider him?! He was just another human to you?!"
His voice echoed in the darkness, and silence followed as the toad remained silent. Realizing that his questions would remain unanswered for the sixtieth time, he slowly rose to his feet and turned to walk back to the lake and face another day, similar in every way.
He could not foresee the future, but he knew that within the next twenty-four hours he would be back here, as he had been for the past two months, and that he would leave without anything.
Unexpectedly, halfway between the throne and the doors, behind his back, the exhausted voice stopped him.
"You survived... you came back... now... you have to find out... why."
Motionless in the middle of the room, only his breathing could be heard. His eyebrows furrowed, and this time he could not hide the anger that spread across his features and eyes.
"Did you know?"
The question that had brought him here echoed, but he thought he hadn't been heard, since after more than five seconds, no answer came.
"Did you know what was going to happen? Was this your prophecy, the one you told me about? You'll meet an immortal being, it seems, who'll shatter your dreams... and the least of your schemes. I remember perfectly, those were your words. Answer me, did you know? Did you know he was going to die? "
He turned to meet the bulging gaze for which his respect had begun to wane.
"I knew it."
He took an aggressive step toward the throne and, pausing in a jerky breath to compose himself and avoid making any rash gestures, managed to stop.
With trembling lips, he finally asked the question that tormented him, the only question he didn't want to know the answer to:
"Did he know?"
And the unwanted answer was not long in coming.
"Yes."
His eyes went wide and dry. This was... impossible.
All anger died inside him, replaced by... injustice.
Who... had abandoned who?
"W-When did you tell him? Was it the day I came with Hi-"
He stopped abruptly in his question, and the toad's silence, despite the name he couldn't pronounce, answered his query.
"Why haven't you said anything? Why didn't you tell me?! Why did you waste your time recounting YOUR STUPID DREAM WHERE SHE CAME TO TALK TO YOU INSTEAD OF TELLING ME ABOUT THE ONE WHERE MY MASTER DIED?!"
Out of breath, his legs shaking, he didn't know where he should look. Should he stare at the scrolls, the bookcase, or the smile that still adorned the toad's face?
"She... didn't want me to."
Gasping for breath in the middle of the dark palace, he wrinkled his eyelids, as lost as his misplaced hatred.
"Who are you talking about? Who didn't want you to talk about it?"
For the first time since his arrival, the Great Sage's smile faded.
"When she came... to speak to me six hundred years ago... in my dream... about what was to happen... she asked me... not to tell you... that it all depended... on her master's death... that only he should know... that he had to die that day."
Darkness engulfed him, leaving only the toad in front of him, which in turn, like his thoughts, became blurred and strange.
Motionless in front of the three thrones, two opaline pupils imposed themselves on his thoughts, and a single word emerged from his bewildered being.
"What?"
Naruto
December 31 1020, 11:00 p.m.
Land of Fire, Natoma
The triple-glazed window on the outside of the room shattered and the pool emptied in a deafening, uncontrolled torrent. Despite the distance between his floor and the first, he could hear the thirty thousand liters of water crashing down, as well as the panicked screams of Natoma's inhabitants.
With a simple flick of his chakra-filled hand behind his back, he held the drum against the room's battered door. Seemingly held in place by gravity, the guards pounding on the wood couldn't move it a millimeter, giving the feeling that an invisible force was at work.
With an impassive expression, he then watched the man with the brushed, silver hair standing in front of the empty pool marble and who, with a slow, patient movement, brought the upper blade of his scarlet scythe down on the parquet floor. From the neck down to the man's right hand, blood beaded on the floor, and with the strange hiss of the sharp blade grinding on the parquet, the immortal moved forward until he reached the half-open glass door that divided the room in two.
Just as it had appeared in the basement, the psychopath's mad grin returned.
"Sorry, I got impatient." the Akatsuki member apologized in an amused tone.
Stoic in the face of the thirty-year-old sarcasm, he felt Mia flinch behind him and didn't need to turn around to hear the heiress's retreat. The purple gaze he had been staring at inevitably turned to the young woman, and what happened next did not fail to surprise him: for the first time since he had been able to feel the psychopath's emotions, he sensed a form of fear in him. The feeling lasted only a moment, but it was enough to make the man's breathing start to stutter, and to make him put his only free hand against his heart.
"Wow... you scared me."
He stared at the man's masquerade as the latter raised his scythe towards the bed, inevitably pulling Mia away from it.
The next second, behind his back, the young woman's fragile, trembling fingers clung to the white shirt he was wearing.
The breath of the effeminate, terrified whisper caressed his right ear.
"Who... who's this guy?"
And the man's annoyed voice irritated his left.
"Oi you there, look at me when I'm talking to you, you know it's dangerous to go around with that hair color?"
The tension on his shirt increased tenfold, as did the tension in his mind.
He was in a delicate situation.
Opposite him was a man capable of inflicting death from several meters away in a fraction of a second, and behind him was a woman who couldn't move a millimeter in that time: he couldn't move her so abruptly without risking fatal injury.
Even though it was a futile attempt, he tried anyway:
"Let's go somewhere else."
In response to his request, the Akatsuki member chuckled before raising the handle of his scythe to his shoulder.
"Why should I move away from her?" he asked, pointing at the lifeless body of the businessman with a movement of his head. "You didn't hesitate to reveal the technique of the Yondaime to save her, she must be important to you, I can't wait to see your face after I cut her to pieces, Kyūbi."
The sentence had the desired effect: the hand that had gripped his shirt relaxed... to let two arms encircle him.
Seeing the smile that appeared under the purple gaze, he tried as quickly as he could to get the heiress to let go, but barely had time to get his hand to her forearm that the scythe was less than a meter from them, ready to cut them in half.
No words, no warnings, no time to tell her to hold her breath. In a split second, he released an insane amount of chakra, and in a split second, the darkness of the room vanished.
The mirrors in the toilets on the hundredth floor imploded, the swinging doors slammed and, with a terrible noise, the drain of the nearest sink exploded.
Blood beaded from his cheek as a piece of mirror passed over it. The scarlet drop mixed with the soaked, stained ground, just as his wound had already healed.
He sighed.
He had set this seal more out of reflex than necessity, and now he was using it for the second time. Perhaps in the future, he should give his instincts more room than his thoughts.
Coming to his senses, his azure eyes widened as the arms around his waist loosened and as he felt the heiress fall backwards. He turned immediately and caught her at the last moment before crouching down and gently laid her down on the water and the broken mirrors.
With her eyes just as wide as his, the young woman stared lividly at the ceiling, searching for oxygen.
"It's nothing, it'll pass." he lied.
It wasn't nothing, it would last for days, and he knew that better than anyone.
If he wasn't careful, atmospheric changes like this could hurt him, badly. Even though it was only a hundred meters and the temperature was the same, a sudden change like this could cause unconsciousness, altered senses, organ damage. And yet he was talking about himself, his own body, he could only imagine the effects on a body without chakra, inexperienced: he could already feel the heiress's heart floundering.
With one hand behind her head and the other against her carotid artery to check her heart rate, he managed to hide his surprise as a warm liquid mixed with the pink hair.
Moving his knee, he rested the heiress's head on his hip before examining the several-centimeter-long piece of mirror lodged in her skull. Clenching his teeth at the consequences of his actions, he withdrew his carmine hand from her hair to bring it closer to the wound. With his other hand, he grasped the piece of mirror with his fingertips and pulled it away as green light engulfed his bloody fingers, turning them purple.
Breathing heavily, the heiress didn't notice what he was doing, so when she managed to regain control of her breathing, she grabbed his right forearm, trembling.
"What's... what's..."
"Don't talk, save your strength and try to calm down, it's all right, don't-"
The green light flickered with the arrival of the thoughts of his last clone left on the first floor.
Fresh air wafted between the young women around him as he deepened his embrace of the little girl he was carrying. Wrapped in his arms by the blood-stained sheet, the child only moved and let out her feelings on rare occasions.
She had done so every time a member of the hotel staff had stopped them.
"What are you doing here? Who are you and where did you come from?"
"What... what's all that blood, are you all right, sir? What are you carrying?"
"Ladies, are you okay? What happened?"
She'd done it every time one of the women he'd rescued and who could think straight had spoken.
"Thank you... thank you... thank you..."
"You saved us, thank you so much... thank you so much."
"W-What should we do? This-This place... they-"
"Go down the street in front of you, there's a police station further on, you'll be safe there." he replied, pointing with a shake of his head to the huge avenue north of the Iron Tower.
The thousand neck-breaking lights of the neighboring buildings caught his attention for a moment before he focused on the stares that surrounded him.
More or less dressed, the women watched him with only one thought in mind.
"You... you're not coming? P-please take us over there."
Frozen, at least for the one who managed to keep her head up and didn't need any help to walk, they all watched him with frightened expressions.
He wanted to tell them that his time was running out and that he'd barely make it across the asphalt and grass before he'd disappear for lack of chakra, but refrained, or at least the voice behind his back prevented him from doing so.
"Naruto?"
Turning his face, he looked at the asymmetrical blue dress that had just silenced the young women's fears.
"What are you doing here?" the singer asked as she approached the group.
Standing on the concrete between the avenue, the fountain and the hotel entrance, where a dozen employees watched them and chatted among themselves, he turned to face the young brunette.
"I'm asking you the same thing, Yum, I told you to leave."
With wide open eyes, Ayumi looked at him in surprise before hesitantly pointing at the entrance behind her.
"I... I just came down... the elevator stopped at almost every floor, the hotel is full."
Before she brought her hand towards him.
"How did you get down here so fast? Who... who are these girls?
And to observe the small form he was carrying.
"Don't tell me-"
A shattering sound cut through the singer's umpteenth question and drew the gaze of everyone present to the sky. With narrowed eyes, he watched the torrent of water begin its tumultuous descent more than three hundred meters away.
Without hesitation, he lowered his eyes to Ayumi, which immediately drew her attention back to him. The group of girls behind him, hypnotized by the cascade of water, made a frightened leg movement in his direction in unison, afraid of him moving away as he tipped the child he was carrying into the singer's arms.
"Take them to the police, the station-"
"I-I know where it is, I saw it when I arrived this morning."
Having turned his face toward the lighted street beyond the lawn to indicate the direction, he returned his attention to the young woman. Asking no further questions, and perhaps understanding the situation even better than he did, she brushed past him to join the young women, asking them to follow her.
Judging by what they were saying, he could only confirm that most of them recognized the singer, which made it easier for them to trust Ayumi.
Relieved, although they hesitated for a moment, he watched the twenty or so women move away.
A sigh escaped his lips.
He had very little time left, the timing couldn't have been more perfect. He had only created himself for a few minutes, the time it would have taken to empty the basement, and therefore hadn't transferred enough chakra to himself, so he could count himself lucky to have made it this far, to have crossed Ayumi's path, lucky for the slowness of the Fire elevators.
As he took in the first thought that would make him disappear, a cold sweat ran down his spine, draining him of a tiny fraction of his remaining chakra. His eyes widened and he mechanically counted the seconds left before he disappeared, only to turn as the torrent of uncontrolled water crashed to the ground amid the panicked screams of civilians a hundred meters away.
The water quickly spread across the concrete floor, from the fountain to the hotel entrance, but that was by no means what monopolized his entire attention.
In front of him, between the group of girls who had just reached the lawn and the hotel staff, the black cloak with the red clouds had just appeared, and behind the black mask, Kakuzu's red sclera scrutinized him.
The echo of bare feet and high heels behind his back reached his sensitive hearing… as it reached the Akatsuki member.
A shiver almost made him disappear.
He couldn't stop him, he couldn't teleport him, he couldn't do anything. Not even think about anything other than simply raising his hand.
"They're innocent." he implored.
The Nukennin stepped forward as the void enveloped him.
Kneeling on the floor of the hundredth-floor toilet, he clenched his jaw in frustration.
He... had no time. There was nothing he could do.
"Can you stand up?" he asked in a voice that reflected his frustration, which the heiress, still out of breath, didn't fail to notice.
Between two jerky breaths, believing that the tone was meant for her, she lied to him with a nod and, the next second, he helped her to get up. Staggering as soon as she was on her feet, he had no choice but to carry her. Reflexively, as he lifted her, she grabbed his neck as he started walking towards the exit.
Accompanied by the silver gaze staring at him, he ventured down the corridor that led to the central room of the hundredth floor. He wanted to sigh again, but in front of the young woman's overwhelming emotions, he remained impassive.
The more time passed, the more frustrating the situation became. He needed to end this quickly: he hadn't even faced these two men yet, and his chakra reserves were already half gone.
The fault was clearly his own, due to the Shadow Clones and the Hiraishin he had just used, due to the situation he had gotten himself into, but the facts were there. If things continued like this, he would begin to doubt his chances of success. Especially when he knew what was coming next, what these two men were about to do.
Bending down slightly, he used his fingertips to push the handle to open the door. The hubbub reached him immediately.
As he stepped into the huge, brightly lit room, the two hundred souls that haunted it sank into an unprecedented silence, much quieter than the one he had created twenty minutes earlier.
The man who had attacked Mr. Okada and fled with his daughter, the man who had ruined the evening and who had been the center of all discussion until now, had just reappeared.
Whispers rose again as his footsteps echoed on the giant chessboard, and the waiters and other guests at the door stepped aside to get a better look at the heiress.
With a slow, conscientious movement and general attention, he placed Mia on the steps of the marble staircase leading up to the kitchens. It was hard for him to let her go, but with a gentle smile and his hands, he succeeded.
"Don't move from here, whatever happens, okay?"
Again, she nodded.
Rising to his feet, he took three steps toward the center of the room, still under the scrutiny of all the people present, and, unbuttoning the collar of his white shirt, raised his eyes to the ceiling, to the huge chandelier that glass panes overhung.
Only then did he express himself in a calm tone.
"There's a bomb in the hotel, please evacuate via the stairs."
As he had expected even before lying, the murmuring stopped abruptly. But no one moved a millimeter. Who would believe such a thing?
After loosening the collar of his shirt, he did the same with his sleeves to roll them up.
"What are you talking about? Your joke is quite inappropriate."
Lowering his gaze, he looked at the young waitress who had shown him the way an hour earlier and could only sigh, again.
The anonymous rant was not long in coming.
"You think you're funny?!"
"How dare you say such a thing after what happened in Itoshima?!"
"Where are the guards?! Get rid of that vermin!"
"DIDN'T YOU HEAR HIM?! THERE'S A BOMB IN THAT GODDAMN HOTEL!"
Raising an eyebrow, he turned his attention back to Mia, who had just emptied her lungs and was still trying to calm her breathing. Oddly enough, the general mood changed from confusion to fear, and the murmurs became a deafening din.
Everything always seemed more real, more serious, when the information came from a high-ranking person.
The first believers began to put down their drinks and snacks and took a step toward the elevators. Soon the whole room began to panic. At first the glasses were placed on the trays, but soon enough they imploded on the floor... just like the trays.
The crowd quickly began to gather in front of the metal doors.
After hearing the screams, all the staff had come out of the kitchens to look at the scene, and in no time the stairwells were covered with drums. More than a hundred frantic runs shook the floor, jostled the frailest, trampled the stunned, and the first howls rang out.
Out of the corner of his eye he looked at Mia, who was literally clinging to the marble bar to keep from being stepped on, and then shifted his gaze back to the chandelier for a second time.
"Out of the way! Out of the way!"
"You didn't hear him?! We have to take the stairs, so get out of the elevator and give me space!"
"We're too heavy, some of us have to get out! You get out, get out I said!"
"She's pregnant, stop-"
Despite the commotion, everyone stopped in their tracks and allowed their emotions to take over, giving rise to a nameless fear. It was a feeling he could always sense in people in the midst of a situation that had gotten out of hand.
The one hundred and eighty souls still present, who had not tried to reach the two staircases on either side of the room, raised their stunned faces to the ceiling, to the chandelier, as with a deafening, terrifying noise, the windows above shattered.
Falling for several seconds, the huge shards of glass imploded on the tables in the center of the room, on the chairs, on the food, causing hysterical screams and shrinking movements.
Impassive, alone, a few meters away from the crowded staircase, he began to observe the newcomer who was now the center of the room's attention, the one with the violet eyes who had just landed on the checkered floor between the tables and the immaculate tablecloths.
Dripping blood from head to toe, in stark contrast to the surrounding scenery, the psychopath carried on his shoulder the body of a small, almost naked man, strangely only partially covered in blood spatter.
Although the two men were more than fifteen meters away, the putrid stench emanating from the Akatsuki member reached him, bringing back rainy memories.
He only had to think for a fraction of a second to realize that the hemoglobin and muscle fibers covering the man belonged to the guards who had tried to break down the bedroom door... and who had surely succeeded after his disappearance.
With the clatter of cutlery, the disarticulated body of the owner of the Iron Tower fell heavily onto one of the tables, startling most of the audience.
"You forgot this, fox."
Causing those who recognized the victim to recoil and clump together.
Smiling, the burgundy, silver-haired member of the Akatsuki ruthlessly stabbed two of the blades of his scythe into the naked body and, with a slow movement as a plate imploded on the floor after his move, morbidly combed his hair.
Slowly, the king's blood soaked the tablecloth and dripped onto the giant chessboard.
He stopped to concentrate on the black coat to feel what the heiress was expressing behind his back, and was somewhat surprised to perceive, beyond fear and anxiety, a relieved thought.
A great weight had just been lifted from her shoulders.
Dozens of frightened hiccups rang out, and a few pawns peered at the stairwell doors, ready to run for their lives, as the killer's voice stopped them in their tracks.
"The first one to move, I'll cut him to pieces."
Like the bomb threat in the hotel, the threat was not really taken seriously at first, despite the intimidating appearance of the thirty-year-old, despite the blood splattered on the checkered floor.
At least, according to what he sensed from almost all the men and women present, it wasn't that they didn't believe it, but rather that they didn't want to. A well-known reflex in the face of a disturbing event. A mental shield that allowed them to escape.
A joke.
It was all just an act to make people forget the humiliation that Mr. Okada had suffered earlier, it couldn't be anything else, he wasn't dead, right?
Then a thought began to spread through the crowd, gradually eroding the hope in everyone. A word thundered through the room and the general opinion changed. Three syllables that nailed everyone to their positions: Shinobi.
Stopping to listen the surrounding meanderings, he returned his attention to the Nukenin of Yu as the latter retrieved his scythe in one swift movement.
"How about you stop running, Namikaze, I'm tired of chasing you, look what you make me do, all these people you make me kill, I don't even have time to sa-"
With a sudden gesture, and stopping short, the psychopath threw his scythe toward the door leading to the stairs, just where a man was running.
With a precise gesture, and without moving his face, he shifted his azure gaze to the right and, with his hand on the same side, threw a kunai out of a cloud of smoke.
With several sparks and a shrill sound, his small weapon collided with the first blade of the giant scythe, altering the deadly trajectory and sending both weapons tumbling into the heights of the room.
The scythe sank into the concrete wall more than five meters above the ground with a harsh thud, startling the crowd for the umpteenth time, who had seen absolutely nothing, only heard the sound that caught them off guard.
The immortal watched him with a smile, then tugged on the nylon rope concealed in his sleeve. Unhooking from the wall, the scarlet weapon went across the room at breakneck speed, whistling in his right ear as his golden hair twirled.
Silently, and after the passage of the bravest and most thoughtless of the civilians present, the door leading to the stairs closed quietly.
For the umpteenth time, he stared at the grim reaper as the latter caught the handle of the weapon. Only then did the kunai he'd thrown bounce onto the checkered tiles.
He could have caught the scythe as it passed, but not knowing its properties, he had chosen not to. It had seemed too easy. Its owner seemed to have... let's say extraordinary physical abilities, so he couldn't be sure that the handle of the weapon wasn't impregnated with poison, and the spike of satisfaction the man had let out as the weapon approached might have meant that, as well as it might have meant that this man, full of himself, had thought he could touch him.
The smile on the Akatsuki member face only widened, confirming his second hypothesis: this man was simply mad as a hatter.
"You're making me look like a liar, you damned fox."
Still standing in front of the stairs, impassive, his vision blurred slightly as, behind the bay windows fifty meters away, a shadow split the darkness of the tower's southern facade. In the next instant, the Nukenin of the Waterfalls landed beside his acolyte, some fifteen meters away, as the chandelier twinkled.
Though he didn't want to give anything away, he couldn't help but clench his jaw at the simple view the newcomer, or at least at what the latter was holding tightly.
His temper crumbled mercilessly as he looked at the blue dress.
As silence prevailed, as not a whisper dared to rise, as the panicked breaths of the civilians were silenced, the exasperated breath of the immortal sounded.
"Oi, you bunch of strings, I told you not to interfere, what part of that didn't you under-"
Before stopping dead as this one turned to face his teammate.
With an outstretched arm, Kakuzu was holding Ayumi by the neck and, with her arms at her side, her face slightly raised and her neck bent, the young woman looked overwhelmed and frightened.
The scene only made him feel more guilty.
The psychopath took a step in the singer's direction, and still on the other side of the room, he came very close to interfering, to throwing himself, but the nature chakra around the Akatsuki member kept him as still as it would allow.
For once, the man had no murderous impulse, which was why he didn't move.
Taking another step forward, the thirty-year-old lowered his face a few centimeters from the brunette and grabbed her cheek and chin with one of his blood-stained hands, forcing the young woman's attention.
"Who are you?" he asked, moving the singer's face from every angle under her terrified expression.
With a hand on the back of her neck and another on the lower part of her face, Ayumi's expression changed dramatically as she stared at her attacker, bringing another crazed grin to the scarlet face.
The singer's bravery was just a facade, needless to say. Never before had he felt such fear in her, not even during their first encounter in the Wind.
"You're really surly." the immortal said before stepping aside and turning Ayumi's face towards the crowd. "Tell me, do you know that man over there? The one with the weird haircut and the arrogant face."
Ayumi's eyes widened immediately and she moved her face vigorously from left to right, at least as far as the two men's grips would allow. It took no more than three head movements before a tear finally fell from the brunette's face.
Fear quickly turned to apology, and excitement reached its peak as the psychopath went back to watching his teammate.
"I thought my little games didn't amuse you, Kakuzu, yet you bring me this pretty face, has the altitude changed your mind?"
Since his arrival, the Nukenin of the Waterfalls had not stopped staring at him, as if waiting for the slightest movement to snap the neck he was holding… well, this man was actually doing the right thing because, as things stood, he was reluctant to jump despite the high probability of failure, so he could only imagine if Ayumi wasn't threatened.
Frustration gradually spread to every inch of his body, reminding him that he'd never been in a situation like this before. What could he do? He really wondered. He knew that he was fast, very fast, but was he fast enough? One hundredth of a second too slow and Ayumi would die.
Could he handle it?
"You've already spilled enough blood, Hidan, all these deaths don't bring any money, they're useless, stop playing around and finish quickly."
He tried to recall any memory of hearing that name, Hidan, but nothing came to his mind. The fact that Yu, the only pacifist nation without a ninja village on the peninsula, didn't have a Bingobook didn't help him at all. This man was a complete stranger, so he had to not underestimate him, despite the fact that his teammate exuded a far more intimidating aura.
The Hot Water Nukenin sighed loudly, followed by a click of his tongue.
"Money, always money, you really don't know how to appreciate good things."
With his index finger, the immortal slowly dug his nail into Ayumi's cheek.
Still at fifteen meters and by reflex, he injected chakra into his right leg, enough for him to leap at the two men, and it was enough for Kakuzu's grip to tighten further, stopping him in his tracks.
The situation was really getting out of hand, if it hadn't already.
With a painful grimace and closing one eye, the singer raised her head a little more to relieve the pressure on her neck, just as a blood-red circle appeared at the immortal's feet.
A drop of blood trickled down Ayumi's cheek and, releasing the singer's face, the psychopath brought his own closer... and licked the wound.
Disgust spread quickly across many of the faces present, but not Ayumi's. Far too scared for her life, she hadn't even had time to understand what had happened, that a second crimson drop had already replaced the stolen one.
He narrowed his azure eyes as Hidan raised his in ecstasy. At that moment, the man's expression left him speechless.
Even though the Akatsuki member didn't seem to fear defeat - was it arrogance, he didn't know - this time, the latter expressed a feeling similar to that of the heiress a minute before: Relief.
The feeling that dominated after a victory.
Why had this man thought he had won? Why had he hesitated to take the blood from his finger? Hadn't he wanted to mix it with the blood already on his hand? And this circle on the ground, this triangle inside, what did it mean? Why did it look like the chain around his neck? Was it a seal? Did Ayumi's blood, which he had ingested, serve to bind them, just like with Mt. Myōboku?
His inner questions vanished the moment the Nukenin turned to him, smiling... and his wrinkled eyes widened as the Akatsuki member's bloodied torso literally turned from light to dark red. The skin on the man's face turned even whiter than it already was, and that's when he realized that he was right.
Overflowing with self-confidence, Hidan walked in his direction, slowly, amused, satisfied. Only the sound of bloody footsteps could be heard in the huge, breathless hall, and everyone thought that the slightest movement would be used against them.
Less than a meter away from him, the Akatsuki member stopped, letting him take a closer look at his violet eyes, leaving one last rhetorical question lingering.
How could he beat someone he couldn't touch?
The smile that stretched the psychopath's carmine lips only widened to reveal white teeth. Then he spoke.
"I heard from the puppet that you were fast, and to tell the truth, the blond boy said you were the fastest man he'd ever met, that you stole Nanabi from under their noses. I won't lie, after hearing that, all I wanted to do was to meet you, and my God heard me, he granted my wish, but now I'm deeply disappointed, apart from running away, you don't seem to be able to do much... tell me, now that you can't run away, what are you going to do?"
As he had spoken, Hidan had stepped around him to reach the stairs in his back, and just after that, he had sensed a visceral fear in the heiress, letting him know that the Akatsuki member was staring at her.
Once again, he didn't move a millimeter.
Even when the psychopath had approached the stairs, he hadn't flinched, and when everyone had backed away from the first few steps in fear, when Mia had put her hands on the marble to retreat, and when the man had climbed the steps between them to crouch in front of her, he hadn't moved.
"You, where did you come from, why do you look so much like that bitch?"
"I-I-I-I d-don't kn-kn-"
"Stop fucking stuttering, I hate it."
With his calm, azure gaze he looked ahead, as the vibrations of nature at his back did not bode well.
Mia was on the verge of losing consciousness.
"You there, four-eyes, do you know her? Answer me before I rip your eyes out."
"S-She... S-She's the daughter-in-law of-"
"What's the matter with you all, don't you know how to speak?!"
He watched Ayumi's parma irises as she looked back at him. The singer gave him an apologetic, panicked, fake smile before opening her lips three times to reveal the only good news in the whole situation.
They're all fine.
"S-She's the daughter of M-Mister O-Okada, the man you... w-who's on the t-table."
"You hear that, you piece of string? She's the child of the other idiot downstairs... can I touch her?"
"No."
Standing stoically, face impassive, a few meters away from the lunatic behind him and fifteen meters away from the schizophrenic in front of him, he inhaled calmly and then closed his eyes for a moment. The last thing he saw was Ayumi's frightened face, the last thing he felt was Mia's frightened emotions.
"Come on... just an arm or even a hand."
He ignored the thousands of vibrations around him, those of men and women, of the dog three floors below, of the raven digging into the gravel on the roof.
"You're really starting to-"
And opened his eyes again.
Zero.
With an arm movement so quick that it almost dislocated his shoulder, he swung a three-pronged kunai in front of him. With a shrill whistle that failed to convey its position, the kunai sliced through the air, heading straight for Ayumi's face.
One hundredth.
The cloud of smoke around his wrist only had time to dissipate a few millimeters before the kunai was halfway down. Having poured an insane amount of his chakra into his supporting leg even before his gesture, he turned to propel himself toward the stairs, toward the immortal, as the checkered tiles imploded at his feet.
Two hundredths.
The kunai three meters from its target, the pieces of tile still in the air, he raised his arm above the stairs, still flying.
With the blade two meters away from its target, the pieces of tile still in the air, he raised his fist in the face of Hidan, who had not moved and was still watching the heiress.
Three hundredths.
A meter away, the kunai disappeared. The puff of smoke that replaced it distorted the atmosphere, allowing him to appear in front of Ayumi with a raised fist.
Four hundredths.
Kakuzu's green eyes raised a millimeter. His armed fist approached a meter. The four angry impulses surrounding the man manifested, causing the atmosphere to vibrate as he struck their owner's jaw.
Five hundredths.
The force of the blow was such that the Akatsuki member's head spun around, sending him flying straight toward one of the many concrete pillars some thirty meters away, smashing tables, chairs and cutlery in his path.
Six hundredths.
The grip around Ayumi's neck loosened and Kakuzu more than six meters away already, he placed his hand on the singer's shoulder, whose gaze was still focused on the place he'd just left.
Seven hundredths.
Ink-black pictograms instantly spread over the young woman's entire visible body, covering the freshly formed wound on her right arm that had not yet begun to bleed. Then, sending his free hand into the void in front of him, a yellow flash lit up the room and his hand grabbed the three-pronged kunai he had replaced himself with on the other side of the room.
Continuing its trajectory, the kunai had embedded itself in Hidan's right arm who, with a grimace and widened eyelids, started to turn his face toward him as the color of his epidermis faded and returned to its original hue.
Eight hundredths.
Again, and blindly behind his back, he sent the kunai in the direction of Ayumi, who was still staring into the void in front of her, and pressed his hand against the man's black cloak before disappearing with him in a second burst of light.
Nine hundredths.
With a sweep of his arm, he grabbed the red clouds and swung the psychopath toward the swinging toilet doors, ripping out all the pipes and sinks in his path.
With a second move, he sent his left hand forward, and as green chakra erupted from his fingers. A third flash made him disappear. His left hand rested on the wound on the singer's arm as the three-pronged kunai sank into the tiles at their feet.
One second.
The two flashes blinded everyone, pieces of tile bounced off the floor around his footprint, tables, chairs and cutlery, most of them pulverized, collapsed in the wake of the Nukenin's passage, several explosions could be heard behind the door leading to the toilets, and finally Kakuzu crashed into the concrete pillar with a noise that would make many pale. Only then did Ayumi blink.
A table collapsed behind the young woman, startling her and causing her to turn around to see the damage.
Not surprisingly, the one hundred and eighty people present, still in silence, were in shock. No one understood what had just happened.
With a mechanical gesture, he wiped the singer's scarlet cheek turned towards him, where a slight nail scratch was visible, bringing her attention back to him.
A deep sense of incomprehension washed over the singer; she still didn't understand what had happened.
Just as she was about to speak, a grimace distorted her features, and in the next moment she looked down at her right arm, where he was still applying chakra. That's all it took for her to grab his wrist and pull his hand away.
Although she was lost, she knew one important thing:
"Save your chakra."
The blood on the young woman's arm began to drain.
Tearing off a piece of the bottom of her dress under several surprised hiccups - this being the first sound since the strange event that had seen the two men dressed in black disappear - Ayumi placed the piece of cloth over her wound, before smiling at him.
Slightly, he turned his face to the left towards the stairs and observed Mia out of the corner of his eye, who was staring at him in amazement like everyone else. Then a sound coming from the toilets made him look back at Ayumi before turning his gaze to the crowd.
"Everybody out, now!"
His tone sounded and no one waited. As soon as the first frantic rush to the stairs was heard, everyone started to run. The elevator doors slammed shut, taking the few passengers with them.
Gently and with his left hand, he grabbed the singer's only free wrist so that she could follow him. Within seconds, they were at the front of the stairs and he held out his right hand to Mia who, without hesitation as men and women filed down the marble steps, grabbed it for the second time of the evening.
A wild laugh echoed through the toilets. The chunks of concrete and tables on the other side of the room began to move.
"Hold your breath, close your eyes."
The two women complied, and as he took one last look at the black cloak that had risen beside the bay windows, he used another portion of his chakra to envelop the two women, and his field of vision went from illuminated to plunged into darkness.
The two arms he clung to lost their strength and as Ayumi fell to her knees on the bedroom floor, on top of his black suit jacket, Mia collapsed on the bed, both gasping for breath.
A feeling of dizziness caught him off guard. Releasing the hand and wrist he'd been holding, he moved toward the counter and stools to keep himself from collapsing. The two women were too busy catching their breath and their spirits to notice that he was slowly losing his.
Gritting his teeth, the back of the stool cracked under the pressure of his hands. He closed his eyes and as he fell to one knee, when he opened them again, an immense golden cage towered over him.
A loud laugh flooded the surrounding void, and the hot breath extinguished the nine torches that surrounded him, leaving only the bloodthirsty stare some twenty meters away, beyond the cage, now lost in the darkness.
"What was that word again? Yes... I remember it now... presumptuous."
On the verge of fainting, only a frazzled smile contorted his features... at least, if he believed his thoughts, because even his hands had become invisible to him.
Thinking twice, was it this place that had suddenly gone dark, or his vision that no longer followed? Was he going to lose consciousness, or had he already?
He didn't know, all he knew was that if Kyūbi's tone hadn't startled him, he would have collapsed.
"Stupid, naïve, and presumptuous. That's the human in front of me. Do you think I'll help you? You are indeed naive to think so. You've used all your chakra to save these insignificant creatures, and now you want mine?"
The demonic laughter vibrated through his body, shattering his last hopes. Slowly, he lowered his eyes to the nothingness at his feet. Even thinking had become an ordeal.
"I will help you."
A rush of adrenaline immediately lifted his head, and against all odds, he turned his face to the darkness on his left as the fox's laughter faded.
More than fifty meters away, behind huge, invisible bars, eight vertical slits glowed orange. Then, one by one, the seven wingbeats sounded.
Naruto
June 28 1016, 2:45 p.m.
Mount Myōboku
"Do you really have to go today?"
Sitting on the dry grass next to a giant red mushroom and the dirt road leading down the mountain, he watched the horizon. It was only after several seconds of intense thought that the voice of the female batrachian next to him caught his attention.
With a slow, melancholy gesture, he turned his face to the little toad to his left, who, like him, was contemplating the effects of the summer heat on the colorful vegetation.
"I can't stay here forever, I have a lot to do before you bury me."
He immediately received the lightning bolt of the yellow gaze.
"Don't talk like that, you worry me, I'll tie you up here if you keep saying that." she threatened him with a soft voice.
He smiled.
"I'm not going to die anytime soon, Obāchan, don't worry, I was only alluding the fact that you still have several centuries to live."
With her paw, the matriarch brushed back her purple hair.
"It's true that I'm still young, you're right to point that out."
As he turned his gaze back to the brightening sky and squinted at the star that ruled everything, his smile was replaced by a pained expression and his field of vision faded to orange.
Shima's tone didn't prevent him from keeping his eyes closed.
"You have been training for over a year now. Are you satisfied, do you feel ready?"
Silent for a moment, he finally opened his mouth.
"Yeah, I think I am."
The warm breeze made his golden hair twirl and the grass around them dance.
"Are you... going to see her?"
Opening his eyes again, his sigh faded in the temperate atmosphere.
"No."
A second time, he turned his face to the matriarch, who watched him without blinking, and threatened her in return.
"If you go to her, I will not forgive you." he warned her in an unmistakable tone that saddened the old toad.
"It's not her fau-"
"Don't." he cut her off with a curt tone.
Just as he had, Shima sighed.
"Very well then."
A single second was enough for the opal gaze to leave his thoughts, and another for a sorry face to materialize under his azure gaze.
"Sorry Obāchan, I... didn't mean to be rude to you."
"It's all right, it's all right."
"Sorry to leave you alone."
"It's all right."
"Sorry about..."
He didn't need to add another word to explain what he was talking about, what he was apologizing for.
He concentrated on the vibrations of nature, and despite the silence, he could imagine the answer that never came.
It's not all right.
Through training and perseverance, he had been able to discern the emotions of living beings for several months now, and never before had he fallen so hard: everyone lied, sometimes even to themselves, and even the wisest... especially the wisest.
The matriarch loved him immensely, infinitely, and yet she also resented him immensely, infinitely. A duality that made it hard for her to forgive him, even though she'd told him she had.
He didn't blame her. He would never blame her.
It was actually quite understandable. Sure, he wasn't the main cause, but he was the one who had lost control, he was the one who had taken Fukasaku away from her, he was the one who was going to leave her all alone.
It was he who had condemned her to centuries of loneliness.
"What are you going to do now?" she asked in a quiet voice.
"If I tell you, you won't let me go." he replied with a false smile.
He sensed a hint of annoyance and concern in the batrachian, but despite this, Shima managed to maintain her calm tone.
"At least tell me where you're going."
He took one last look at the mountain's flora and, rising to his feet, turned to face south from his position.
"To Wind, there's someone I need to meet."
Once again, the mountain became quiet. Still concentrating on the chakra of the surrounding nature, he could only look at Shima as his eyes widened.
It was the first time she had expressed such a feeling. The same one he had cherished for over a year now.
"I shouldn't be telling you this, I should be telling you to live a peaceful life, away from worries, to start a family, but I would be a hypocrite if I did, and I'm already a hypocrite enough. I may regret it one day, but please, Naruto, for what they've done, for Jiraiya, for my Fukasaku, make them bite the dust."
With a surprised look, he watched as the yellow pupils crinkled into a smile.
"I'm a bad mother, aren't I?"
Instinctively, he reproduced his adoptive mother's grin.
"You were and always will be a great mother, Obāchan."
[...]
"Why did you stop?"
His question echoed in the darkness. No answer came.
"There's no need to pretend to be asleep, I know you're awake." he asserted, pressing the back of his head against the huge golden cage.
Sitting in the ten centimeters of water, he watched out of the corner of his eye, half turning his face, what little orange fur he could make out about fifty meters away.
"So? Why did you stop? You could have destroyed everything, the entire Mount, but you stopped, why?"
At the silence, he sighed. Using his hands, he stood up, water dripping down his pants. Without really thinking, he turned and stepped between the bars. That's all it took for the predatory eyes to appear in the distant nothingness.
With every step he took behind the cage, the water expressed itself, and with every step he took behind the cage, he gradually gained the full attention of the creature inside.
When the warm breath a dozen feet away ruffled his golden hair and twirled his black clothes, he stopped.
"You know what I'm going to do, don't you? I know you can hear my thoughts in the outside world, just as I can hear yours here."
The toothy grin took shape.
Motionless, he studied the crimson gaze.
"You stopped because you needed me. Your release was near, but you needed my body, you need my body, you know you wouldn't last long out there against those guys, but you're too proud to admit it."
He heard a first blow, followed by a second, until there were nine.
"Strangely enough, when I was training as a child, I often lost control due to fatigue, but this last year, despite the fact that I fainted, you didn't try once, not a single time, despite the thousands of opportunities, you let me train."
He heard a gust of wind, followed by a harsh whistle, but he didn't move. After a furious sweep, the huge, sharp, three-meter-long claw stopped less than half a meter from his face, causing his golden hair to dance again.
Hands now behind his back, he turned his face to the side to observe the angry, slit irises.
"Don't worry, they won't get their hands on you, I'll take care of that, I'll protect you."
With a slow movement, he moved his right hand to his chest.
"I, Naruto, the human you hate the most, the one whose life you ruined, I'll protect you."
The raucous laughter vibrated the water at his feet, the water in his body.
"You are very presumptuous."
He opened his mouth, but, thinking for a moment, he drew back. The giant claw retreated into the darkness and he gently lowered his hand... before raising his index finger to the infinite ceiling.
"Do you know the specifics of the seal you are trapped in?"
Silence replied.
"It's insanely complex, and even today I can't understand half of it, but I've discovered something astonishing, and you've probably heard me think about it."
Turning with his back to the demon, he pointed with his index finger at the golden cage, or more precisely at the other side of it, the place where he appeared every time he came here.
A torch lit up in front of the huge prison. It was followed by a second twenty meters away, and then a third. In an instant, nine flames formed a circle, illuminating the center of the room. Against all odds, similar golden cages appeared and surrounded the area. On each of them, there was a seal between the two central bars, waiting to be activated.
Nine seals.
Walking on the water in exemplary silence, he ventured out of the prison to reach the center of the dark room.
"I'm on my way to meet someone you know in Suna, but I've never been there. Have you been there in the eight hundred years you weren't imprisoned?"
He turned and was not at all surprised to see the toothy grin disappear.
"Presumptuous? You could have found a better way to describe me after all you've seen. Naive, stupid, there's an anthology of them. My plan is not presumptuous, it is simple: this organization is looking for the Tail Demons, I'm going to find them before they do."
Next chapter: The Tower that lit up the Valleys, part 5