His armor had dents and holes at every joint and he was missing entire pieces from his breastplate because of that yokai blast. The skin that shined through was almost as red as his remaining armor: angry, nasty flesh covered by patches of scar tissue irritated beyond belief. The yokai had hit him like a bad sunburn, but Kokuō's chakra covered him just in time to prevent anything worse. In the ensuing steam and heat, he'd grabbed Rōshi and turned tail.

Han channeled his chakra into a superheated lance and ran straight through the trees, carving a circle through them and blowing the bark off the back. He didn't stop running, bowling through, or leaping over whatever obstacles nature had in his path.

He was running for survival.

Rōshi would be furious when he woke; losing was not something the lava user handled well. Han just prayed he didn't wake up until they were further away; No doubt, Rōshi would want to hunt the Akatsuki members down and melt them into pools of magma. He wasn't one for running or retreating.

Han, on the other hand, considered his own actions proper. He approached the Uchiha peacefully, and when that approach failed, he defended himself until the position became indefensible. They took no casualties and may have given one, depending on the Uchiha's health. Yet there was something wrong, something nagging at the back of Han's mind.

The weight on his shoulder felt oddly light, and while he knew it was a byproduct of the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, he couldn't help but be skeptical.

Han was moving so fast that he literally slid across a small river and let his momentum carry him to the bank, where he found a cluster of trees thick enough to hide his large frame and rest for a moment.

Han set Rōshi down carefully, hoping he wouldn't stir. Rōshi's body slumped into the earth and if the Jinchūriki's beard hair didn't shake like trees in the wind when he exhaled, Han would have thought he was dead. He breathed a sigh of relief; That fight was too close for comfort.

'Best to let Ōnoki-sama know what has transpired. He won't be happy that his best team was manhandled by a Konoha missing-nin,' Han thought, but his hands were already writing an official report:

Pre-mission complications, 1 shinobi injured in combat, requesting permission to abandon the mission, and report back to Iwagakure.

Signed,

Operative 1-4-9-J

He folded the scroll up and sealed it with a bit of chakra-reactive wax. Two latches on his left forearm armor snapped open, and the gauntlet fell with a thud, exposing a seal with the kanji for 'emergency.' Han took his index finger and channeled chakra into the red, faded seal. It glowed for a moment, and then a carrier pigeon popped into existence, shaking its wings out.

Han attached the message to the bird and off it flew, climbing higher and higher, eventually just a dark pinprick against the sky's baby blue. He looked back down at Rōshi's limp body. It was time to move out, to distance themselves.

In the sky above, a black crow with Sharingan eyes circled.

Hours Later...

The marshland's open expanse of water and high sawgrass was spotted with smaller and smaller clusters of trees the deeper Han got into the country. It was foreign to him to be this exposed. He was wearing bright red armor lugging a body over his shoulders and stomping through anything that got in his way- not exactly the stealthy getaway he wanted, but the distance was the key. He had been running ever since the morning.

It was dusk. The dying light of the sun cast a deep orange glow over the river Han was running over. The man on his shoulder had gotten much heavier as the sun above sank to meet the tips of distant trees. Han's metal boots were soaked from running over the numerous rivers and streams this country had to offer, but he pushed on. He had to make the most of his remaining sunlight to find a defensible position, a boulder or cave preferably, but Kawa no Kuni was in short supply of both.

He sighed miserably. As beautiful as Kawa no Kuni could be when the sunlight reflected off the swift currents of water and the whippoorwills danced above it, Iwa was the mistress he missed most. With impregnable mountains to the North and East and soil so rocky that gravel mines outnumbered farms, she was a tough mistress to invade and even tougher to love. But playing hard to get was as old as time itself.

Han's footsteps lost power as he thought of his Motherland: Iwa's beauty was not in its face. It required a deeper connection than to simply look at the land and claim it. It required you to work it endlessly and wear it down over time, like the fate of walkway stones left in disrepair. The patience and the passion necessary to survive in what others would call desolate mountain ranges are what make Tsuchi no Kuni citizens proud of their heritage. Stone is hard to break, and so are Tsuchi no Kuni's people.

He shrugged his shoulders to readjust Rōshi's dead weight. It spread out more evenly across his back and more onto his right side. Han groaned as the entire left side of his back slackened after being tensed the last few hours. It needed a break. Hell, he needed a break.

The red giant broke through a particularly thick dense of wilderness and hit his break; He quite literally ran into it face first. Falling back with the additional weight, plus his fatigue, forced Han to the ground with a plop! He groaned again. His body hurt. The wet earth below him was not as comforting as he thought it would be.

He blinked his eyes open and stared up at an expanse of beautiful granite, black streaking through the rock like cursed lightning. He let Rōshi's body rest on the soft earth and pulled himself to his feet to study the strange rock. His hand ran over its face with familiarity: coarse, rough rock, so it's been here a while, but not long enough to be smoothed over due to rain or moisture in the air. He snapped his hand back and looked around warily; This rock was put here within the last decade.

But why? Why would someone stick a shark fin-like granite boulder in the middle of a marsh? And why did the black streaks start to glow and burn?

The streaks began to lock together, and in his horror, Han realized it was a seal! He dove on top of Rōshi to cover his body. The seal broke the same moment Han dived, and in the ensuing ripple of chakra, Rōshi's body shimmered a muted orange.

White light flooded the dimming marsh, and Han's eyes felt the brightness even behind his eyelids. It faded a moment later, and Han looked up to see a cutout in the rock just large enough for him to squeeze through with a staircase leading down into darkness.

He knew he shouldn't go in. He knew that whatever this rock was, it was foreign and probably dangerous. He knew he should just pick Rōshi up and keep running and try to find somewhere else to rest but-

The last vestiges of the sun sank below the sawgrass, and all was dark. The black hole in front of him begged him to enter. So, he did. Whatever was waiting for him in there was in for a world of pain- the Jōki no Jinchūriki was tired of running.

A certain black crow's Mangekyō Sharingan sputtered out, its connection to the target breaking. When its eyes resembled coals from a forgotten fire, it flapped its wings back the way it came, beating the air with strong, smooth strokes. Mission accomplished.

With Rōshi over his shoulders, Han stepped down the stairway for what felt like an eternity. The interior was a pitch-black not unlike a deep cavern, which Han had plenty of experience within Iwa.

The sweat on Han's neck turned cooler the deeper he went. By the time his feet hit a smooth, stone bottom, his sweaty skin was frosting over. His footsteps echoed, signaling that the bottom was an expanse of at least 300 feet, probably more. In the distance, a blinking yellow glow drew his attention.

Despite his many experiences of surviving ambushes screaming at him to send a Futton Bunshin, he instead plodded towards the soft light, a simple moth to a flame. To his pleasant surprise, it really was a flame, but it was sputtering out. Like an addict with a fix in sight, Han kept his eyes on the flame and set Rōshi down hard. The light flame gave his closer leg an orange hue. Han did a set of seals and softly blew into the flame, stroking, molding his chakra to be warm like the fire, to be dense like the air. His chakra-laden breath breathed life into the fire and its intensity caught Han fully.

It also caught Rōshi. But there was a problem: besides the slow-burning flames was not Rōshi. Han's body began to sweat even though the air was freezing and the room itself started to light up. Giant, flaming lines raced on opposite sides of the cavern until they connected in a vertical pillar on a far wall and bathed the room in their golden filter. Han didn't know why they came on, but it didn't matter.

Who had he carried all this way and kept safe all this time? How had he been tricked into rescuing the wrong person? Han's throat burned as the guilt made its way down his spine and settled like a boulder in a pond: too big, too much. He'd accidentally left his comrade, his unconscious friend on the battlefield, alone with the enemy. What happened to Rōshi? And who the hell was that?

He was chakra burnt head to toe with no upper body clothing, the last remains of orange pants on his left leg only, and no shoes to speak of. In his right hand, he clutched a slightly melted piece of metal caved in where his grip hadn't faltered despite the heat. His body looked emaciated and lanky with long arms, legs, and an almost unnaturally long torso. He couldn't have been more than a Genin, a child who'd hit a growth spurt, Han reckoned.

Yet, he could feel the power that bled from the boy's body. It made Han's eyebrows raise and his mouth go dry. Here he was, in some mysterious hideout in the middle of a foreign country with the Jinchūriki of his homeland's worst enemy, he was sure of it. Oh, and whoever's hideout this was probably alerted its owner to their presence if the flaming walls were any indication.

Han sat down by the fire for a moment across from the sleeping boy he'd brought here. He needed a moment to gather his thoughts and to rest. What to do with the boy, what to do about Rōshi, how to get home?

After an answerless, silent eternity, Han set to work building traps at the stairway landing and placing tags along the floor around the fire. Someone would come for him here. He would be ready to welcome them home.

Or welcome them to Hell.

Itachi Uchiha was sure he had died. He had burned his eyes out in a last-ditch, herculean, impossibly disguised effort to keep the Kyuubi away from the Akatsuki and had, to the public, died a member of the world's most dysfunctional terrorist organization and was hated by anyone and everyone around him. If not for Sasuke, Itachi would have accepted that with the peace that walks hand in hand with imminent, deserved death.

Instead, he sighed.

"Ne, Itachi," Kisame said, voice low and measured. "I've got some fish here if you'd like."

Itachi's eyes stayed shut. 'No time for daydreaming, I suppose.' His skull burned with every grease bubble pop he heard. He was touched the ex-Kiri-nin was cooking the fish for him, though. Kisame usually just slurped the filets down after buying them from the markets.

"Thank you, Kisame. Move it to the side of the pan. I'm afraid my eyes are too damaged to properly check its doneness." Itachi didn't need his eyes to feel Kisame worry, but he'd eat when he could see what he was eating. He'd eaten a raw fish filet once at Kisame's behest, and never would it happen again. It'd almost ruined fish for him altogether.

Itachi heard Kisame grunt, and the familiar rattle of pans in an enclosed space made his ears ring louder than they should have. In an instant, he knew exactly where he was and what building he was in: the hideout/ abandoned temple sat in the center of the ruins of a small, dusty old town inhabited by more weeds than people. Its soil was too dry to grow anything of agricultural importance and the flora and fauna were, in a word, distasteful to the average human. In short, it was the perfect location for an Akatsuki hideout. 'The Eastern Kaze no Kuni border hideout. I have been unconscious for a while.' Itachi breathed; The air was too dry to be anywhere else.

Kisame's voice flooded the room. "We make a scene in Konoha and then destroy a building in some random town to get the Kyuubi brat, only to watch him be dragged away by another target. What's your angle, Uchiha? Was it something those eyes of yours helped you see?"

Itachi thought about sighing again, but his chest burned. "These eyes do not help with common sense, Kisame. In fact, they may even hinder it. 'If an eye causes you to sin, it is better to discard the eye, than to let the body perish in Hell,'" he quoted.

Kisame's silence was louder than the cooking fish. Unspoken questions were his specialty.

"The Book of Jashin," Itachi answered dryly.

"I didn't take you as religious, Uchiha."

"Hidan's teachings must be rubbing off."

If it was a joke, Kisame didn't laugh. His brow was slightly furrowed and his cold, blue lips sat sealed in reverent attention. He didn't want to banter, he wanted to plan.

Itachi began. "We cannot seal the Kyuubi at the moment. Being the strongest of the Biju and subsequently the one with the most chakra, we'd need the other eight to balance it properly within the statue. The Hachibi is the same way; we'd need at least the Ichibi and Nibi in order to seal it without serious repercussions. We have neither, but the Yonbi will suffice."

The bandages that wrapped around Kisame's forearm muscles groaned in disagreement. Itachi was sure his blue-skinned partner knew all too well about the power of the Kyuubi now, even if he'd only felt a fraction of its total power.

"So, taking the Kyuubi brat now would have just made one of us into a glorified babysitter for however long it would take to get the other containers," Kisame pieced together.

Itachi nodded, then coughed. "If we were to only take the Iwa Jinchūriki, then Naruto would have been recaptured by Konoha ninja and would be out of our grasp again, maybe permanently. As the situation falls currently, the Gobi will be smart enough to avoid Konoha like the plague he was taught it was."

"I will call Leader-sama," Kisame said. Itachi heard Kisame's cloak struggle against Samehada's weight. The leather strap that wrapped itself around Kisame also sounded as if it was close to giving up. It had either been damaged in combat or simply put through its paces lately; It would need to be replaced soon, like Itachi. If his eyes really went out before Sasuke got to him, it was game over. He needed to be more careful.

Itachi sat up, eyes still closed, as Kisame clicked his hologram on. Itachi heard other holograms awaken and soon the meeting began. Awkward silence reigned over the group until Pain cleared his throat.

"Kisame, I assume you have sufficient reason to call this meeting," he monotoned.

"Yes, Leader-sama. Itachi and I have captured the Yonbi Jinchūriki. However, the Gobi and the Kyuubi Jinchūriki eluded us in the ensuing battle. I am afraid Itachi," Kisame paused, "and I are no longer fit to track them down. They fled further south."

The hum of the holograms made Itachi nervous. By now, Deidara should have cut in with his useless blabbering-

"Ha! The Uchiha looks like he was put through his paces, un! It's a shame I missed that," Deidara hissed. Itachi chose not to acknowledge him.

Hidan surprisingly cut in with a retort: "Shut your mouths, you dirty heathen! Lord Jashin sees your jealousy and considers you weak," Hidan yelled across the glowing figures.

Deidara growled.

"Kisame," Kakuzu grunted from across the bickering holograms, "if there are any bounties in the area, be sure to turn them in. We need more capital if we're going to invest in a hideout in Kaminari no Kuni." Itachi felt Kisame tense to answer, but the shark was too slow.

"Collect them yourself, Kakuzu," Pain cut in. Pain's voice made Deidara and Hidan hold insults on the tips of their tongues. "You and Hidan will intercept the Gobi and Kyuubi Jinchūriki in place of Itachi and Kisame. Leave the Nibi for Deidara and Sasori."

Kakuzu's silence betrayed his annoyance. Suddenly, Itachi felt his ring heating up. It pulsed six times before the heat faded from it. Had it pulsed a seventh time, it would've burned his finger.

Itachi didn't say a word; Kisame had noticed and knew exactly what it meant. He cut back into the conversation, this time a little more urgently. "Leader-sama, we just got word that our hideout in southern Kawa no Kuni has been opened by someone with access to Biju chakra. I would be very surprised if it wasn't our runaway targets."

The holograms crackled. "Kakuzu, Hidan, head there first, see what you find."

Kisame, almost as an afterthought, got one last jab at the Undead Duo, shouting, "Watch out for Jiraiya of the Sannin's toads! If they eat you, you might actually wish you could die!"

"Jiraiya of the Sannin is tailing them?" Even behind the darkness, Itachi could see Kakuzu's emerald eyes shimmer like golden coins. "He's worth a fortune..."

For a millisecond, Itachi felt something he'd never felt from their leader: fear. It manifested itself in the silence of Kakuzu's brazen disregard for human life, in Sasori's quiet 'breathing,' in the very deadness of the conversation.

Just as soon as it was born, it was eradicated. "If he stands in the way of peace, then he will know Pain," their leader monotoned. The holograms abruptly died one by one, familiar buzzes cutting off like a strangled animal's last cry played on repeat.

"When will you be fit to travel?" Kisame asked. His voice echoed off the far wall, suggesting he was walking towards the entrance.

Itachi's eyes burned. "Tomorrow, though I'm afraid you'll have to do all the heavy lifting."

The clink of Samehada's scaled body coming down on Kisame's shoulder painted an image Itachi had seen many times. Kisame's spiky smile shone through Itachi's mind as clear as day itself. The flap of the hideout ruffled, and a second later Kisame was outside, no doubt extremely irritated by the beads of sand that were sweeping through his cloak.

'Now is the time.' Itachi's eyes remained close, but with a ram seal, he gained sight: a random crow perched atop the spire of the hideout became his host. With a flap of its wings, it took to the air, intent on intercepting Jiraiya with this new information. If it flew hard and fast, it would reach Jiraiya in a few hours. It was plenty of time before Hidan and Kakuzu would be able to cross even a quarter of Hi no Kuni, but the bigger the cushion, the better.

Jiraiya and his allies running into Hidan and Kakuzu would be... less than ideal, especially if Sasuke was still traveling with Jiraiya. Kakuzu might even go out of his way to try and kill them, bounty or not; Konoha was right behind Taki on his very public village shit-list.

The crow increased its speed. Its black feathers masqueraded into the darkening landscape and became nothing to no one, a shadow, a speck, a dot in the sea of black. Up above, the rising moon refused to reflect any light, as if it were too tired to do its job.

The crow flew on.

Sasuke's Sharingan had not turned off for six hours.

The visceral shock of seeing such a decimated landscape had unlocked a piece of him not present since Zabuza, the thing in the back of his mind that teetered between a 'nothing left to lose' adrenaline boost and a soul-crushing fear of power he might never achieve. Safe to say, the latter was impressed upon him heavily.

He couldn't turn it off no matter what he did.

He meditated, he brooded, he stretched, he closed his eyes. He even went so far as to try talking, but without Naruto, talking was impossible. Funny how the things you hate the most turn into creature comforts. He decided to keep combing the area for a hint, a clue, something to let him know Naruto was ok or where to find him. Even in the pitch-black darkness that the campfire's light couldn't penetrate, Sasuke saw everything, everywhere: angry, fiery chakra of three different red hues with another, calmer blue chakra waterlogging every felled tree in the muddy valley. The foreign chakras stuck to the trees, to the ground, to the puddles of water that shouldn't exist because it hadn't rained in weeks.

This had been the battle site, the ANBU explained. A skilled Suiton user had blanketed the area in water-

'Hoshigaki Kisame, Itachi's partner'

-and then battled with a group that had special chakra-

'Naruto, of course... but who else has red chakra? It couldn't all be his, could it?'

-and the only things remaining from the battle were two wet, identical, barely-viable scent trails going in opposite directions, one northwest and one south.

'Which one is yours, you idiot?'

His feverish searching made the others queasy; he could feel the ANBU that sat around their own fire off to the side of Jiraiya's were giving him wary glances; Their bodies would tense when his Sharingan rolled through them and caught them watching him. His bloodred eyes burned in the darkness and his skulking figure appeared like an Oni from a child's nightmare, hopping spot to spot, kneeling, shifting, bounding, twisting, searching-

"Oi! Kid! Come here," Jiraiya shouted. His voice carried heavily over the muddy expanse. Sasuke turned his attention back to the campfire and trotted over, careful not to get mud on his leg wrappings.

Dwindling firelight made Jiraiya appear mythical. His broad shoulders and wide chest may have been covered, but the way his traps inclined into his head made one think of a bear, and the way the light left parts of him dark added to the mystery of his true profile. His legs were splayed out and the amount of ground they took up reminded Sasuke to never take a Toad Sage kick head-on. His face, however, was much less bear and much more middle-aged Shinobi.

"I appreciate the effort, but if the ANBU unit that specializes in tracking can't find anything else to specify which trail is Naruto's and not the bad guys', then we're shit outta luck. We'll have to wait for daylight and follow each trail further to see if there are any scent breaks or other clues," he said. His voice was tired, almost sad. Though his face seemed stoic, Sasuke's Sharingan couldn't help but notice the slightest curvature of his lips, the way his shoulders seemed tensed and drooping all at once, how his cheek muscles misfired when he sucked in a breath- he was hiding his emotions. Why? Sasuke balled his fists.

"And turn that damn thing off. You've gotta be exhausted by now," Jiraiya added. He poked at a few logs in the fire. He didn't even bother looking in Sasuke's general direction- the fire was seemingly more interesting than the last loyal Sharingan Konoha had in her possession. His arms shook with a wave of anger that sent ripples through his battered body.

Sasuke felt the last day catch up to him; His knees felt weak, his back and neck hurt, and the Sharingan was giving him a nasty headache. None of that compared to his crushed pride; First, Orochimaru had toyed with him, then Gaara, Itachi, Tsunade, and some nameless ANBU tracker all took their turns scoffing at his power, power it had taken him his entire life to build. And yet here he was, not even worthy of a glance from someone that Itachi took down in a single move. He felt like a stray dog that couldn't get any scraps. Beaten. Hopeless. 'Powerless,' his subconscious whispered, 'weak, useless!'

An animalistic growl escaped his throat and he lit into Jiraiya's sitting figure. "What are we doing just sitting here?! My brother is out there, Naruto is out there! I thought you were strong, I thought Tsunade was strong! I thought the ANBU were strong! What is the problem?! Let's track these assholes down and kill them!" He was animated, out of breath, about out of chakra, and his sclerae had turned a startling black. The familiar dark markings refused to spread, however.

Jiraiya turned his eyes to Sasuke, finally. His body rose like the sun, slowly but steadily. It engulfed Sasuke's vision. Jiraiya crossed his arms over his chest. Tsunade whipped her tent flap open from behind Sasuke and stared swords through his back. She'd been listening, it seemed. He heard knuckles crack.

Across the clearing, the ANBU crouched, hands on their tanto hilts. It suddenly felt very hostile. The air cooled considerably and Sasuke stopped shaking. His anger wasn't gone, but it felt minuscule compared to the collective burning in those around him. A thought crept through Sasuke's brain as Jiraiya took a step forward: maybe he had overstepped just a little.

A little turned into a lot when Jiraiya grabbed his shoulder with his bear paw of a hand and yanked him forward into the bigger man's chest. His words came out like whispers, but they cut like poisoned daggers. "Let me explain something you little attention-starved, egotistical, desperate shadow of a Konoha Shinobi. If we pick the wrong trail and find your brother, he will break you. He and Kisame will undoubtedly kill some of us, too. Do you want that blood on your hands? You of all people should know how capable your brother is of slaughtering people." Jiraiya paused, his words marinating in the cool, humid air.

"He will shatter you and kill you before any of us even have a chance to say otherwise. And I'll let him, because even with the best intentions, even with all the tools to succeed, even with others' lives at stake, you can't put aside your own greed and selfishness and do what's best for the team. You want to be an avenger so badly that you'll make martyrs out of anyone who even remotely cares about you, Naruto included. You're a disgrace to the Will of Fire." Pause. Silence. Wind in the outlying trees swept above them and tore leaves free from healthy branches.

The wind seemed to rip Sasuke's soul from his body and carry it away. He felt cold.

Jiraiya let go of him but shoulder-checked the frozen Uchiha as he stepped through him. "I used to be like you, kid. Too eager to fight. Unshakable. Thinking I was big enough to handle it all, to bear the weight of all the worlds' evils myself. But I'm not," he sighed, "and if I'm not, then you aren't, either." Jiraiya crossed the clearing and sat by the ANBU. Tsunade huffed and disappeared into her tent again, undoubtedly fuming.

Sasuke opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The clearing faded back to the dull, natural colors that the world was outside of his red-tinted Sharingan lenses. His fists fell open and his fingers dangled like dead worms on old fishing hooks.

How had he gotten here? How had he rationalized attacking Itachi, a monster even their father didn't want to battle? How had he thought he was going to win? The Chidori and the Cursed Seal weren't enough to overcome Gaara- how did he think Itachi would fall to them?

Was he really that careless? His thoughts flashed to taking Haku's senbon for Naruto, to protecting Sakura in the Forest of Death. Where was that side of him? Had the Cursed Seal really degraded his judgment by so much so quickly?

The cold he felt ran down his neck and through his shirt like ice water veins. It beaded down his pale arms and cut through the middle of his palms, crossing from one side to the other, only to drip off his pinkie. A shift in the wind sent the cold into his dull eyes and for a moment, he didn't feel it.

He didn't feel the water on his face. He didn't feel the water on his face because there wasn't any water on his face.

Sasuke's Sharingan spun back up and he tried his hardest to locate the Genjutsu caster without causing a scene. Were they under attack? Had Itachi and Kisame doubled back to eliminate their tail? The chakra around him wasn't Itachi's, and it didn't match the dense blue that coated the remaining water puddles from earlier in the day. No, this was someone else. The Genjutsu was like a shroud over the ANBU and Jiraiya, meant to mirror them simply sitting by the fire at rest.

His fear transfigured into betrayal; The odds of someone from outside those present casting a Genjutsu on him as soon as his Sharingan turned off were almost nonexistent, and the threat from another group of enemy Shinobi this deep into Hi no Kuni was equally laughable. His eyes gave the ANBU a once over again and saw through the Genjutsu that their hands were still on their blades, poised to strike.

'But not at me anymore,' Sasuke saw. Their body language pointed at something aerial, something above them. Their shoulders were tight, and their legs had excess chakra in them dying to be used to spring up. It seemed that either they had broken the Genjutsu and were aware of a threat, or they had performed it so Sasuke wouldn't notice something. But where was the caster?

A crow with red eyes swooped down and beelined for Jiraiya's outstretched arm. The crow landed softly, with a familiarity that was unbecoming of a common crow. It ruffled its feathers and bent its neck into Jiraiya's hand. The movement was obscured by Jiraiya's body, but the ANBU relaxed slightly, only slightly, for a moment before the crow sprung off Jiraiya's arm and zigged and zagged away into the outlying forest.

Sasuke had two broad questions for the rest of his sleepless night:

'What is really going on here?'

'Did that crow have Sharingan eyes, or am I hallucinating?'

The sun's early light hadn't yet touched the earth Sasuke laid under, but he awoke to a flurry of activity.

He peeked his head out his tent and activated his Sharingan; Distrust and betrayal boiled up in him and tasted bitter. He witnessed the ANBU rolling their packs up and sealing them away. The campfires were being doused with water and then the earth was transformed to look as plain as the surrounding landscape.

"Uchiha Sasuke, we are moving out soon. Please take any non-essential articles you have and dispose of them. We will be traveling at full speed for a while," the nearest ANBU, Lizard, said.

Sasuke's eyes narrowed. "Why? Did that crow tell you something last night?" He expected a tensing of the abdomen and the flexing of outlying digits. He got nothing.

Lizard's blank stare matched his lax body. Even in the face of Sasuke's young Sharingan, Lizard stood without a hint of deceit. "No. It told Jiraiya-sama something that even we ANBU are restricted from hearing. Hurry and pack your things; Jiraiya-sama is ready to move," he said as he walked over to Tsunade's tent and began deconstructing it.

'Move where?' Sasuke thought. Had they found Naruto? Was that what the crow was about?

Sasuke's eyes swiveled to a makeshift earthen table across the way. Over it stood Tsunade, Jiraiya, Shizune, and one of the ANBU. Jiraiya's usually unremarkable face was twisted in gnarled lines and his hands gestured aggressively to certain spots on the table. Curiosity piqued, Sasuke walked over.

From the way those at the table hushed their voices, his presence wasn't exactly welcome, but Shizune gave him a soft look and let him slide in next to her.

No one spoke, but they didn't need to. Sasuke was busy digesting the map in front of him. It was the natural lay of the land of Kawa no Kuni built into the table itself, complete with elevation points, points of interest, and areas to avoid in order to achieve the most efficient routes. Across from Sasuke's side of the table was a red X.

"Is that where Naruto is?" He asked breathlessly. Part of him had been certain his teammate was gone forever, vanquished by foes much stronger than Sasuke could ever dream of, snuffed out by heartless ninja like Itachi. Relief bubbled up from below and clashed with his earlier feelings.

"Maybe," Jiraiya replied. "I received word from a pretty trusted source that he could be here." He seemed to grimace. "And I also got word that if we don't find him within the next few days, then others from Akatsuki will. And we all know what happens then."

"What happens then?" Sasuke asked too quickly.

Tsunade answered first. "If they get to him before we do, they take him hostage or kill him." Shizune's eyes went wide and it seemed like she was waiting for something to happen, for someone to say something specific.

Sasuke pressed the issue.

"Why? What is so special about him? I don't understand. He's strong, but what separates him from everyone else, from me, so much that my brother wants him?" He wished he hadn't said anything before the ANBU gripping the side of the table accidentally broke a chunk off the edge. Their faces became tight, their lips curled inwards, even Tsunade bit the side of her cheek in an effort of restraint. Jiraiya sighed and the table became dust. He chuckled for a second. His mood switched from stoic to exuberant so quickly, Sasuke wondered if he was Bipolar.

"I think it'd be best if you heard it from Naruto himself. I'm sure he'll tell you all about it when we get him. But we have to get him first, so let's go," Jiraiya said with a wide smile. The smile was fake. The optimism was fake. His words were... somewhere between fake and real. He pivoted 180 degrees and began sprinting for the trees. Tsunade and Shizune shared a look; Tsunade shrugged and ran after him. Their sandals sloshed in the mud until they hit the tree line, followed in hot pursuit by the ANBU. The sun started to peek over the trees and a certain shade of orange put a film over the exposed earth.

Sasuke shook himself out of his trance and made to catch up. There were things that were hidden from him, but they weren't always going to be that way. He was going to find out the truth in all this deception. And it all started with his off-the-wall teammate.

'Who are you really, Uzumaki Naruto?'

Naruto sat up and rubbed his eyes, ignoring the metallic clank next to him and the awfully breezy room he was in. "Aw man, that was a crazy dream... It felt so real!"

"Did it, child?" A deep, reverberating voice made his hands shoot down to anchor him into the floor while his eyes exploded open. Firelight danced over an immense figure no more than five feet from him.

"Who are you?! Where am I?! Where's Pervy Sage?!" Naruto growled. He was a little afraid of the red behemoth across from him, but if this guy hurt Pervy Sage, then it was on. Gaara was much scarier and Naruto had beaten him. Besides, his 'captor' looked pretty beat up. Yeah, he could take him!

"It is rude to not introduce yourself before asking someone's name. Especially when that someone saved your life," the giant said evenly. The only visible portion of his face, his eyes, sat as still as dead fish in a stagnant pond.

Naruto crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. "Looks to me like you took a hostage to save your own skin!"

"Hostage? Tell me, which part of you am I restricting from motion?"

Naruto stuttered, grasping for metaphorical straws. "Well we're obviously in your, like, evil lair or something, right?" Naruto asked, realizing he was indeed free to move but also still untrusting of his companion. The fire on the walls matched the giant's red armor, and such a big, empty room would make sense for someone as big as him.

His eyebrow raised. "My evil lair? I'd have to be evil to have an evil lair; wouldn't you agree?"

"Well yeah, and I think you're evil!"

His eyebrow remained raised. "And what about me makes me evil? Is it my appearance? My tone? How do I know you're not evil, Konoha-san?"

Naruto clenched his teeth. "My name is Uzumaki Naruto, and I can't be evil! I'm from Konoha, the best Ninja village in the world! We're the good guys," he said. He stuck a thumb into his chest to emphasize.

His light brown eyes closed sharply. "There are no 'good guys' in this w-"

"You haven't met my friends, then! Or any Konoha Shinobi not named Itachi or that creep Orochimaru!"

His eyes reopened, but instead of the neutral expression he displayed earlier, this one was more pointed, more angry- like Sasuke when he argued back, only many times scarier. The firelight danced between their locked stare; it was the only thing moving in the room.

"I've met plenty," he said.

Naruto read this like he'd read Sasuke, who only spoke like that when he knew he was wrong, which wasn't often. Like all those times, Naruto tried to stab a little deeper.

"Ha! Then you know I'm right!" He smirked. The eyes across from him didn't shift. They stayed locked with his own, but they seemed to rise to the ceiling as the man stood up across the flames.

He was several feet taller than Naruto when he stood erect. His wide-brimmed, metallic sun hat made a slicing shadow across the ceiling of the room. His disheveled armor somehow made him more intimidating, and that coupled with his thousand-yard stare into the blonde's own eyes cut a very imposing scene.

"I'll tell you what I know. During the Third Shinobi World War, in Iwa, where I'm from," he said, pointing to his Hitai-ate, "Konoha ninja were publicly tied to stakes and burned to death."

Naruto's jaw dropped. How had he never been told about that from Iruka? It was possible he had missed it in the academy but... "No... No way. You're just messing with me! You're making that up. No one deserves to be burned to death. What's wrong with you people?! How could anyone deserve something so horrible?"

"I'm glad we agree, Naruto. But would you agree that your Yondaime massacring 1,000 Shinobi in a single attack is what Iwa deserved? Many died running away. Stabbed in the back."

"But the Yondaime was protecting his comrades-"

"It didn't look like protection from my point of view," Han said quietly.

Naruto's jaw hung dead, like a mouse caught in a hawk's talons. "You... you were there?"

Han nodded. "We were mounting a full-scale frontal assault. The picket line was two miles long. We were going to push into Hi no Kuni until we met sufficient resistance, then terraform a channel straight to the Daimyo's Estate. A group led by the Tsuchikage himself would then lead a quick-strike squad to capture the Daimyo and force Konoha into surrendering," Han explained. The earth next to Naruto rose and crumpled into a live-action model of Han's words.

"But we never even stepped a hundred feet into Hi no Kuni. The first 100 men, who'd fought for more years than you've been alive, died faster than it takes you to sip water. He was everywhere; His tags were hidden in every tree, every clear patch of dirt... He'd tag a Shinobi and let them run back to the reserves, where he'd appear and slaughter them," Han said. His eyes were far away, stuck in a memory. "I'm fortunate I survived."

"Wait a minute," Naruto said, "How do I know you're not making all this up?! You talk a lot for somebody from a different village! You could be trying to trick me!" Naruto's gaze hardened and his attitude shifted. "Give me one reason why I should trust you!"

Han didn't move until Naruto snorted in derision. Slowly, he reached for his face mask. Naruto braced for an attack of some kind, but instead the mask unbuckled and fell to the stone floor with a loud, empty clang. The faded red sealing matrix on Han's left cheek laid atop a splotch of scar tissue that reached up from his neck and stretched across his chin from ear to ear. He didn't let Naruto gawk in silence for long.

"This is the Hiraishin Seal. I got it that day. When your Yondaime was alive, it was known as the mark of death to my people. Those who were marked weren't allowed within the village, so long as he lived. We celebrated a second chance at life when he died," Han said. His mouth twisted into odd shapes as he talked. The scar tissue hindered his lips from moving normally.

Naruto was shocked someone's body could be so mutilated. Had the Yondaime done that to him? He couldn't have, he was the greatest Hokage of all time... Was he? Did he really kill people retreating, running away? Thoughts swirled in his mind like water circling a drain, until the drain backed up and all this new information sat at the top of his mind

Naruto's voice shook. "So, all that stuff about the Yondaime, about burning people on stakes... that's real, then?"

Han looked deep into the faces of the flames. "I'm the one that lit the fires."

A bloody trail extended down the mountain path. It originated from an armless woman being dragged by her once-vibrant hair, now matted in blood and dust. Her black-cloaked, silver-haired captor and his massive triple-bladed scythe stepped peacefully along the path. He whistled a high tune to drown out the woman's low groans.

"Hidan," Kakuzu, the other black-cloaked menace, called out from further down the trail, "quit playing with your food. Hurry and kill her before we reach the next town."

Hidan stopped his whistling to snort. "Jashin's food! Besides, this one knew very little suffering before we found her. Once we reach the border of Kaminari and Hi no Kuni, she should be nice and ready to accept Jashin into her heart."

Kakuzu snorted back. "The tip of your blade will be the only thing entering her heart. You act like she's willingly accepting death."

"You don't see her fighting back, do you?"

"You didn't leave her with anything to defend herself with," Kakuzu noticed. Her nubby shoulders had been cauterized to prevent her from bleeding out, but some red liquid still leaked free.

Hidan scowled and twisted his gaze away. Kakuzu could be an amazing Jashinist if he wasn't such a degenerate, greedy piece of garbage. He was the worst kind of heathen- a cheating heathen! He thought he achieved a sort of immortality outside of Jashin, like that fool Orochimaru had claimed to do.

But where Orochimaru was a slimy worm of a man who destroyed others' souls so that Jashin couldn't receive them, Kakuzu carried the pain of four souls at the same time. His pain was magnified by quality and quantity, by time and amount. One day, Hidan would make sure Jashin feasted on Kakuzu's amassed pain. But until then, he would relish being in the company of someone who could shoulder so much suffering at once.

"Jashin doesn't require ability," Hidan lectured, "only pain. Only the knowledge and experience of suffering." He smiled ear to ear as he thought about his God, his wonderfully brutal, honest God. The woman groaned in agreement with his reverent thoughts.

If she could agree with him, then why couldn't Kakuzu? Couldn't he see the sacredness that was life in service to a God? He worshipped paper, for crying out loud! Paper money! That burns easily! He huffed; His beloved sacrifice responded in kind, only much louder.

"Hidan, I'm going to sew both your mouths shut if you don't stop espousing your nonsense."

That did it. "Nonsense!? You wretched, idol-worshipping, empty-hearted fool! When Jashin's ultimate sacrifices are met and he returns to walk this earth, I will ask of him one thing: To burn all money into du-!"

Wormlike appendages shot out from under Kakuzu's cloak and weaseled their way into and out of Hidan's upper and lower lip. They stitched together before Hidan could stop them, and their grip remained iron-clad even after Hidan used his own scythe to try and slice them open.

His eyes narrowed dangerously; He would pay Kakuzu back for this sin. One day, his scythe would find the soft spot Kakuzu held for money and earthly possessions, and then he would see Jashin open that spot into a massive, bleeding tear.

And then Hidan and his God would rip out all of Kakuzu's beating hearts at once! The thought made him giggle.

Kakuzu kept walking, not completely unaware that the machinations of his demise were at work behind him.

Peace reigned in his decrepit prison.

One could say the Kyuubi no Kitsune was having a good time, despite having his life force sucked from his own being slowly by a rogue piece of paper. Kurama tasted the world today, something he hadn't done in over a decade. It'd hurt terribly to be assaulted by so many senses so suddenly, but it was like being sore after, perhaps, going for a long run or razing an entire civilization to ash- it made him feel good, alive.

He sat curled in a ball of fire and comfort behind the seal, behind his now-rusting prison. Scabby vines of deep orange spiraled around the once-gleaming iron pillars like they were a fungus on a tree or a parasitic vine.

He let his fangs show with a wide smile. He supposed, in that case, that he would be the parasite infecting his young host. And when this seal had all it could take of him, he'd simply die and spend ninety years regathering himself, and then be reborn during the first great wildfire after those ninety years.

Not that he'd died before- besides that Sage rip-off with the wood, who could kill him? - he was just reciting what his father told him a millennium ago. The old man had never been wrong, and Kurama doubted he would simply make such things up.

Kurama loved him the most out of his siblings. Shukaku, that damned Tanuki, had hated their father passionately. In their infancy, the siblings had all joked that Shukaku was just the excess chakra leftover from Gyūki's shit, and that was the reason his body was made of sand instead of something whole, something biological (the same could be said for Matatabi, but everyone got along with her). This, of course, did not sit well. Shukaku often threw fits that involved sandstorms, an ever-changing landscape, and tornados that crossed into others' territories.

Watching Shukaku get shut down by the child had been a real joy to see. Kurama only wished Naruto had aimed for the throat, not the head; Maybe spending ten years in the desert by himself, recharging, would have done the tan Tanuki some good. Hell, Kurama had only been out for a moment, and he felt reinvigorated!

Just then, a presence entered his consciousness. It made his long limbs stretch open and tense in violent anticipation. His animalistic war instincts activated, and for the first time in a long time, he was on edge. He'd felt this power before, this unique, infuriating chakra. He growled low and quiet, eyes scanning everywhere for a flash of hair. He heard him before he saw him, and Kurama's eyes shot left because it couldn't be him, it couldn't be!

"Oh geez! Kushina is gonna kill me!"

In the flesh was Namikaze Minato, with that stupid blonde hair and his even stupider face, looking crestfallen at his undone handiwork. His hands brushed against the iron bars like he was cradling a newborn's face (not that he had much experience with that), and he seemingly paid no mind to the most powerful known being in human history that also killed him a mere dozen feet away. Kurama growled louder, this time enough to shake the mindscape.

It felt like disrespect. Yes, Kurama was imprisoned, but this was his cell, his arena. The Yondaime had no true power here-

"Oh, hey furball. Just one second, then I'll give you a treat!" His sky-blue eyes never even brushed over the fox. They were instead focused on the seal matrix, on that little slip of paper that was trying desperately to hold all of Kurama's unchecked anger in place. And the longer he saw that blonde hair shake as his head turned, the angrier he got.

Minato was treating him like a domesticated pet, or a prized heifer. Kurama snarled. His right claw shot forward, gliding towards his visitor. Minato had barely turned his head when Kurama's massive claws were upon him. He squeezed hard until he heard the soft crunching of human bones between his padded digits. Out of his massive hand crumbled rocks, and a clicking sound emanated from behind.

"Where's the hospitality you're so known for? Besides, you didn't think it'd be that easy, did you?" He could feel the shit-eating grin on the blonde man's face.

Kurama's sinister chuckle reverberated off the metal bars and made a harsh grating sound like he'd pulled his claws down a chalkboard. "It was the last time. I seem to remember gutting you and your wife all at once. You looked like little piglets on a skewer."

"Well, that is... awfully graphic!" Minato replied, flashing back in front of the seal. "But I'm afraid there'll be no pig roasts today, fuzzy. We're both just chakra in here. I can't hurt you; you can't hurt me."

Kurama smiled a horridly wide smile. "Want to test that theory, Yondaime? I'd love to try."

The Yondaime, to his credit, looked unperturbed. He was apparently very confident in his half-broken seal. What a cocky bastard!

"As entertaining as this reunion has been, I'd prefer it if you didn't interrupt the chat I'm about to have with my son, so," Minato's hand was suddenly holding a white piece of paper.

Kurama's left eyebrow rose. What was this? Another seal? What was he planning to do?

His eyes matched Kurama's, and he gave a smirk as he slammed the paper atop the existing seal. The mindscape flashed white like a bomb had just detonated. Kurama drew back and covered himself with his tails. Seals had a way of having unintentional consequences, and Kurama was willing to bet the two seals mixing wouldn't be very much fun for him.

The light faded and Kurama peeked. His ancient eyes spotted the wave of chakra covering the outside of his cell, distorting everything. It was like being inside a bubble, only opaquer.

He huffed and rolled his eyes, settling back down on the floor, as he was before the Yondaime's visit. Of course, one of the three men to ever stalemate him in battle would be so dramatic as to spring from the jaws of death and be reborn in his son's stomach.

Luckily for Kurama, the Yondaime's chakra would be used up soon, so he wouldn't have to share this place with him. While he despised the Yondaime, he did have to admit that seeing him again, even if only for a moment, felt good. It reminded him of reality.

It reminded him of all the blood he was owed.

A/N: Back to drop this BOMB of a chapter before school starts back up. Seriously, this thing is double my usual word count.