Naruto: A Red Eye Hidden by Shadow

by Tatanka4Life

On the fateful night of the Uchiha Massacre, a girl of Uchiha and Nara blood is spared and left with no memories of her past. Now she must walk on the path left by her family to help her build a new future for herself. Her path will be hard, full of struggles and pain, but as long as she has her friends and family at her side she will keep forging ahead, even if it was a drag.

163. Chapter 162: A War Unveiled!

Chapter 162

Last Breath of the Waterfall: A Wish Entrusted, A War Unveiled!

"Here will do," Miss Anbu decided.

"Right."

Amari stepped off the well-traveled road and onto the adjacent strip of grass. She unfastened her beige cloak then removed her pack, setting the latter on top of the former to keep the breezy gusts from blowing it away.

It was time to train. Finally. Amari felt a buzz of excitement set her heart a flutter, and a dreadful claw of trepidation squeeze her gut. What manner of hell would she endure today? What sort of limits would she be forced to push through?

She couldn't wait to find out.

Amari began to twist her upper body back and forth, pivoting the foot opposite to the side she twisted towards to open up her hips while she began a light warmup.

Even on a mission training for the Anbu didn't stop. It couldn't. Time was limited outside of The Beyond. The sands of life's ultimate hourglass, like the ticking wall clocks of her old Academy classroom, never ceased to fall, ambivalent to the world and its creatures, filtering more and more sand to the bottom of the hourglass until, eventually, the final, conclusive grain of sand would fall.

Every day was one day closer to their goal. Every day they had to push themselves to grow, even if that growth amounted to climbing a single meter more up a cliffside or walking a few steps farther on her hands than the last time; every step farther, every meter higher, every brutal exercise or spar was a small victory. A nudge in the right direction.

They had to break their limitations. There was no other option. At present, less than ninety days stood between the Trinity and Kakashi's pass or fail test.

They weren't ready yet. Not by a long shot.

After a few more warmup exercises and stretches, her roadside training began.

First of the exercises was a minute long dead arm hang, an exercise she performed by holding onto a tree branch as though hanging at the bottom of a pull-up. Without chakra.

The first few seconds weren't so bad; they actually felt relaxing. She inhaled and exhaled calmly. Around the thirty second mark she shut her eyes and sought a peaceful place within her mind.

The last several seconds each felt like ten seconds a piece. Her forearms and fingers cramped, her back and shoulders burned, and she felt the beginnings of perspiration build.

The purpose of the exercise, according to Miss Anbu, was to build grip strength and target the muscles of her upper body. Amari believed they were sufficiently targeted. Ten out of ten for accuracy.

It was only the beginning.

Once she dropped off the tree branch, she jumped straight into a set of push-ups without rest, followed by small pulses at the bottom of the push-up for thirty seconds straight, before ending on push-up toe taps.

Her chest was the home of an inferno by then. Breaths were hard to come by, her face was warm and red, shining with beads of sweat when she all but collapsed to her knees out of the final push-up. She felt certain another push-up would tear the muscles off her skeleton.

It was one thing to do those exercises in a normal set by set fashion, with short but decent rest periods in-between them. To do them back to back without rest?

This is pure torture. Was I a masochist in my last life? Did I do something horrible to deserve this suffering?

Ten seconds. That was the gracious rest period Miss Anbu afforded her between the final push-up and her next exercise.

Groaning, Amari hopped to her feet and prepared, then darted off from the tree she started at to the other side of the road, tapping another tree, before racing back to her starting point.

She ran without utilizing the Body Flicker, dashing across the road again and again, lap after lap, until she could no longer complete a lap within Miss Anbu's desired time-range.

Finally, core training arrived. It, like the strength and conditioning training that preceded it, was an absolute drag. First came full sit-ups for thirty seconds, followed by reverse crunches for a minute, before ending on leg lifts.

Once again she jumped back onto the branch, gripping it with her warm and burning hands.

"How long do I need to do these?" she asked, tightening her core and lifting her straight legs.

"Until you can either no longer perform the exercise, or until your grip fails. Whichever comes first," Miss Anbu dictated.

"Great," she grunted.

Her grip failed first. As expected. She fell from the branch and landed elegantly on her feet, face red, steam all but rising off her and sweat dripping and gliding down every inch of her body. Her heart smashed against her chest with the power and force of the Fifth Hokage's monstrous strength combined with the other Haya's Susanoo.

Yep. Even on the road training for Anbu was hell.

Amari looked at her palms, red, slightly torn up by the bark, and trembling.

Building grip strength takes time, she reminded herself while taking deep breaths. I've seen improvements already from rock climbing with Kakashi-sensei. Now that I'm hanging off of trees out here and doorframes at home, I'll probably have a powerful grip like Lady Tsunade's. Eventually.

I'll probably start crushing hands. Maybe I'll even become an arm-wrestling champion.

An entertaining thought, but training was far from over. In fact, Miss Anbu dropped quite the bombshell on her at that moment.

"Okay. That was your first round. You have around forty-five seconds now before we begin again."

Amari shut her eyes and exhaled a short, amused breath.

"First round, huh? Oh man."

After a minute of rest, she started from the top and worked her way through the exercise for two more rounds, ending on a total of three full rounds of intense physical training when she dropped off the branch, landed in a crouch, then collapsed to her hands and knees in a heap of sweat.

Flushed, heart-pounding, lungs tight and ready to pop, she found herself grateful for the last week of hell. She wouldn't have survived the entire ordeal otherwise.

Deep down, deep in her core, Amari knew this was only the start. The first steps not only on their ninety day journey, but on this trip to the border.

And she was right.

Further training and intense exercises followed in the afternoon, and then the evening, until they finally settled into camp for the night. They did so on their side of the border, setting up their tent beside a river—a freezing river.

Amari hissed, tried to breathe, and cursed her way through the suffering.

Afterwards, bundled beneath a thick fur blanket, she sat as close to the crackling fire as she could. At least until her teeth stopped chattering and her gooseflesh covered body stopped trembling.

It had been a long day.

---

The knowledge is there.

Amari pursed her lips. Sitting in her sleeping bag, she lightly tapped her pencil's eraser against her chin, humming as she skimmed over the newest Flying Raijin notes she'd written.

I can see it in my head. I can see Haya—us—transporting Haido's spear and Miss Anbu. I can feel our movements, our technique, so why can't I nail this down? What piece of the puzzle am I missing here?

The techniques Haya performed while their souls were fused fell into one of three categories.

First, and forever inaccessible, were those reliant on The Power, such as the dragon she called down from the Vault. While the techniques themselves could serve as inspiration for new ninjutsu, she couldn't replicate them without The Power. She saw no real point to waste much thought on them.

Second of the techniques were those requiring greater reservers of chakra, in addition to further training to enhance the strength of her chakra and ninjutsu as a whole. For example, the Majestic Destroyer Flame and the Great Stone Pyramid.

My Fire and Earth Style ninjutsu are a long way from being anywhere near as powerful as Haya's were, she thought. Still, those are jutsus I can achieve someday, once I gain more experience and strength.

Finally, there were the techniques outside of her current realm of skills, such as the other Haya's mastery of the Flying Raijin, and the Purple Lightning Blade.

The latter of the two was the easiest to mark off; she didn't know how to control Lightning Nature chakra. Until that changed, if it ever did, the technique was out of her reach. In other words, pointless to think about or concern herself with them at the moment.

The Flying Raijin, however, served as the main source of brain-melting migraines for the last several days now.

Fundamentally, she understood what Haya had done. Fundamentally it was the same technique as transporting herself or others with Shadow Clones; it didn't seem like an extreme leap.

Yet something wasn't clicking. Something she couldn't figure out separated her level of the Flying Raijin from Haya's.

What am I missing? Amari hummed deeper, more contemplative and frustrated than the last.

The sound of the tent opening preceded Miss Anbu's entry into their little sanctuary.

After the total lack of preparation during the Gelel Incident, Amari took it upon herself to gather all the essentials and seal them inside survival scroll, including a tent.

Never again, she swore. Never again would she be totally underprepared.

"The perimeter is secure," Miss Anbu said as she entered. "The Crows will keep watch as we rest."

"Mm. At least we won't have to worry about animals or bandits tonight," Amari said.

"Any developments?"

"No," she sighed, feeling defeated. "I've played it back in my mind over and over again. I've put myself back into the moment, feeling it with my whole body and soul, just like I did in the heat of battle…but something isn't clicking.

"The other Haya, she performed it with such ease. Without thought. But even with that experience, when I try to do it, when I try to replicate what I learned, it feels like I'm running face first into a shut door."

"Hmm." Miss Anbu settled down onto her sleeping bag, crossing her legs. "It may be a mere difference of experience and mastery. For instance, were a master archer to pick up a bow, nock an arrow, and loose it, it is unlikely you could replicate their precision or their technique perfectly. Even with the Sharingan.

"You may be able to see it, to understand the proper positioning of your body, but it takes practice—repetition—to attain mastery. The same can be said of all jutsus and techniques. I can show you a basic Wind Style jutsu, I can tell you how to mold your chakra, but it would take time and repetition for you to perform it at a low-level. To build its strength so it matches that of your natural affinity requires an even greater amount of training and dedication."

The Nara hummed. "It's like building your muscles," she followed the thought. "Exercising once or twice isn't enough to build up strength, and just picking up the heaviest weight when you're a beginner will likely lead to injury. You have to build a strong foundation first, with proper form and repetition over a long period of time—that's how you gain true strength."

"Precisely," Miss Anbu nodded. "The Flying Raijin is the technique of the Second Hokage, mastered by the Fourth. Haya—your other self—had years of experience in life you have yet to gain, in addition to the unknowable battles she has witnessed while within The Beyond."

"And I've only really scratched the surface of this. I'm a novice trying to replicate a master's form, but that takes years of experience and practice I have yet to gain."

"You will, in time. However, I think there's a secondary cause contributing to your difficulty with the technique."

Amari tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you see the Flying Raijin markers as doors, right?"

"Right," she nodded.

"And are the doors open at all times?"

"Uh…" Amari paused, caught off guard by the question. "No. I always open them before I jump through."

Miss Anbu said nothing. She waited and watched the gears slowly crank into motion.

"I've created a sort of mental block," Amari realized, eyes widening. "An extra step in an already difficult process. But if I trained myself to see all the doors open, I could increase my efficiency with the technique. I could skip an entire step in my current process. Smooth it out so I could just jump straight through. Like Haya did."

"Transferring projectiles will require greater experience and training," Miss Anbu said, "however, learning how to use this technique—or any technique, for that matter—so it is as natural as breathing, requiring no conscious thought or effort, that will bring your closer to reaching the heights of the past Hokages. And your other self."

Amari immediately started writing down the new revelation.

Opening all the doors and leaving them open, she wanted to kick herself for failing to consider something so fundamental. So brazen and obvious. The answer was right in front of her nose. It was there every time she utilized the Flying Raijin, all it was missing were giant neon arrows pointing at the doors she created within her mind's eye.

Focus. See the door. Open it. And jump through it.

Why hadn't she just thought of leaving the doors wide open? Why not cut the process to a single act—jump through.

For the Flying Raijin to become second-nature, she thought, I'll need to practice with it more. That'll help me get to the point where it doesn't require every ounce of my concentration to use the technique.

However, that won't happen after a few training sessions. She began to scribble down concepts for new training methods. Even with Shadow Clones, making it as natural as breathing is something that will happen over a longer time-line. Months to years, depending on how often I train it.

There was no getting around the difficulty of a technique created by the Second Hokage and mastered—perfected—by the Fourth. As far as she knew, she was one of three people to ever use the Flying Raijin, with an exception to the Hokage Guard, known for their usage of the Flying Thunder Formation.

I'm a child climbing onto the shoulders of giants, thought the Nara. I've only gotten it to be usable because of the notes my Mama left me. And that was after a time-space incident.

I still don't know whether to consider that my greatest achievement or a failure, honestly.

Even an unintended discovery could be profound, she supposed.

Either way, I can't expect the Flying Raijin to become as natural as the Body Flicker is to me anytime soon. In fact, there was a time the Body Flicker wasn't natural to me; Shisui had to save me from running face first into a tree, after all.

However, I can make changes that will bring me closer to that goal. Like smoothing out the mental process by learning to leave the doors open so I can just hop through whenever I need to.

It wasn't an instant fix, of course. Yet it was a step in the right direction. A good one she may not have considered without Miss Anbu's perspective.

"Thank you," Amari said as she finished up her notes. "I couldn't see how I was getting in my own way. I wanted to believe there was something integral from the other Haya's memories I was missing. Something that would instantly make using the Flying Raijin at such a high level possible for me."

The things she would be capable of then… The people she could protect in crisis situations like the Invasion, she wouldn't have to hear the screams of people in desperate need of aid and be forced to leave them behind ever again.

"There are no easy roads to master any technique. What shortcuts do exist come at a steep price," Miss Anbu replied wisely.

"I guess I was being impatient. After being fused with the other Haya…I don't know," she ran a hand through her hair, "I guess I feel like I'm not working as hard as I should. I sort of feel like I haven't achieved the strength I should have by this point. She managed to fight Kimimaro one on one. And win."

Looking at it objectively, Kimimaro was too tough for her. She'd sensed his power, his resolve, his Will. She'd heard Lee, Sasuke, Naruto, and even Gaara and Hikari talk about his powerful kekkei genkai and his overwhelming talent for combat.

All she learned brought together a single, definitive conclusion.

"I couldn't beat him in one on one combat. Not without resorting to a Mangekyō technique," she admitted, pursing her lips. "Kimimaro was on a whole different level, his kekkei genkai stronger and more versatile in its applications than perhaps every kekkei genkai I've ever witnessed. From what the others have said, it might be accurate to call it one of the strongest kekkei genkais to ever exist."

"Yet Haya had defeated him," she said. "She fought Kimimaro—a shinobi capable of fighting Hikari, Gaara, and Sasuke with his Curse Mark activated all at the same time. He was capable of breaking through Gaara's defenses, of surviving both of Hikari's kekkei genkais—he survived being petrified in Lava, of all things. And he nearly delivered a fatal blow to Sasuke as he was struck down. Despite all the damage he took.

"That was the kind of shinobi Kimimaro was. That was the power of his Will and his mastery of his abilities. And Haya fought him on her own. She successfully killed him without aid. Without backup. Without relying on the Mangekyō Sharingan—she hadn't unlocked it yet."

No, that would come later, when Naruto died in her arms.

A memory painfully burned into her mind.

"I couldn't do that," Amari shook her head. "I couldn't defeat Kimimaro—then or now."

"While that may be true, you shouldn't compare your personal growth to hers," Miss Anbu replied.

"Shouldn't I? We're basically the same person."

"Although you two are cut from the same cloth, you and the other Haya are two unique individuals, closer to twins than truly the same person.

"Your physical appearance and the events which unfolded in your worlds differ, true. Yet the flutter of a butterflies wings can alter the very fabric of the world.

"If you wish for evidence of that, look no further than the Uchiha Massacre. The Massacre never occurred in her world, which means she was never taken from the Leaf. Shisui was not murdered, nor were her parents. This granted her more time to train under their watchful eyes.

"This is not to say Kurenai, Kakashi and Shikaku did not train you well; they did and continue to do so. You are already incredibly capable and possess wells of potential and power at this moment, do not lose sight of that," Miss Anbu reminded.

Amari nodded quietly.

"However, you also lost a few years of training while you were at the orphanage. You had to regain a healthy bodyweight, build up your physical strength, and catch up on the Academy material you missed in that time. The other Haya didn't. You could argue she had a stronger foundation, in certain aspects."

"Mm." Amari hummed, flattening her lips together. "In certain aspects. But in others…"

Kakashi's Lightning Blade plunging through Haku's chest as Haya stood frozen flashed before her mind.

Shaking the memory off, she turned to her pack and pulled a storage scroll out, unrolling it over her lap.

"We're similar, yet we are also diametrically different people, occupying opposing points of the same line," she ruminated, sealing her notes away. "It's weird to think about. Would I have made the same choices she did if my parents and Shisui survived? Or would I still be me?"

Would she have let Haku die? Would she have never reached out to Sasuke?

Would she have been forced to hold Naruto's dead body in her arms?

"Who can say," Miss Anbu said, unaware of her dark thoughts. "We could speculate for hours—days—on what would be different, or if we would be different. But no amount of speculation will change the past. Such thoughts can be…poisonous. We must learn from the past and live in the present, for the future is never guaranteed. To any of us."

"True enough." Amari rolled the scroll up and put it back into her pack. "Seeing Haya's memories… It really drives that home."

"Are you still having difficulty with the memories?"

"Mm," Amari frowned. "It isn't nearly as bad. I feel like my brain is slowly filtering them out, like how people forget memories of their early childhood. There are some things I've written down that I only remember when I read over them again. I've had a few moments where her memories overtake my own, though."

"How so?"

Amari brought her hand to her pendent and began to fiddle with it.

"…I saw Naruto the other day in the street, and my heart jumped," she began in a quiet voice. "He wasn't doing anything strange or special. He was just walking through the Village when we saw each other. He waved and smiled. Said, 'Hey Amari,' at his usual loud volume.

"I didn't say anything at first. When I saw him there, I was suddenly overwhelmed by the thought that he shouldn't be alive. How, I found myself wondering. How was he here? How was he alive? I remembered holding him in my arms, I remembered his final breath…and I nearly burst into tears. He was here. Right in front of me. Alive. I was so happy. And heartbroken. I wanted to hug him, wanted to hold him and tell him how sorry I was for failing to be there for him."

She swallowed roughly. Her eyes stung and her vocal chords tightened. Emotions that were both hers and Haya's nearly broke her down then and there.

"It took me a moment to remember who I was," she began after a brief pause. "I can feel it now, too. When it happens I have to remind myself I'm not the other Haya. That I'm me. That this was my world and my life, not hers."

"If it ever feels like it is overwhelming you, do not hesitate to say something. Please."

"I won't," Amari replied. She exhaled a breath, then smiled. "Don't worry too much. This is just a side effect of fusing souls, so it'll work itself out in time. I won't lose sight of who I am. Besides, it's not all bad. I've seen some really good memories of hers, too. Though some memories…it feels pretty invasive."

"Oh?" Miss Anbu tilted her head curiously.

Amari wanted to slap herself. What the hell was she thinking? She couldn't talk about Haya's memories of Hikari! She all but melted into a puddle of unrecognizable goo every time they emerged from the recesses of her mind, and she thought to discuss their tender intimacy out loud?

The thought of it made her faint. Sudden memories clawed to the front of her mind, as though seizing upon her weakness.

She felt her lips tingle from ardent kisses. She felt gooseflesh rise beneath loving caresses. Her heart skipped and her breath caught upon hearing words of love. Warmth emanated from her core as butterflies performed barrel rolls and loops in her tummy at the recollection of acts and sensations she could never repeat to anyone.

Skin flushed and steam all but rising off her, Amari shoved the memories back into the recesses of her mind and slammed the door shut behind her.

Nope! They were never going to talk about those memories.

"Uh- well, um, anyway," she stammered, "what do you make of this mission we're on?"

Another smooth transition produced by the great Amaririsu Yūhi.

Miss Anbu blinked behind her mask. Her expression was unknowable, hidden behind the cat-motif mask. Amari could feel her smile all the same.

Yeah. Totally smooth. Like the prickly spines of a cactus.

"We will need to remain vigilant," Miss Anbu said, mercifully allowing the subject to change. "What the Waterfall's true intentions are, I cannot say. They may be pure. They may seek to position spies within the Leaf. They may have some other nefarious plot planned. We can only speculate presently.

"However, the irregularities of our mission are undeniable. The meeting location they've chosen is outside of the Waterfall Village, at a suspiciously neutral roadside inn. They tell us nothing of who you are meeting or who you are meant to observe. All of this is on the pretenses of a D-rank mission they claim is meant to cultivate a bond between our Villages."

Miss Anbu shook her head once. "Already they use their superior position to dangle a carrot in front of our noses, expecting us to follow it wherever they direct it. Unlike your line of communication with the Mist, and that of your bond with the Sand, there is no honesty here. No virtue or noble desires.

"This is the dance of politics. You are now caught in the high-stakes poker game the Nations play with each other. It is imperative you understand, as your mother taught me, that appearances are everything in this game. And everyone is cheating."

"Mm. Which means, until the system is changed, I have to cheat as well. At least to survive in these situations. How troublesome," Amari sighed, flopping onto her back.

Staring at the top of the tent, she could only frown. "Politics are such a pain. Honesty is so much simpler. It's more productive, too."

"True. Unfortunately, in our world, honest people are easy targets. They are usually the first to fall."

Amari nodded. "It's a sad and cruel world. But that's why we have to change it."

"One step at a time, yes?"

"Right."

"Well, on this mission, do not expect to find truth in their words. There is an angle here. Of that I am certain."

"Yeah," the Nara sighed. "The world would be a whole lot better if we didn't waste time fighting and sabotaging each other."

"It would be, true."

They both said nothing for a moment. The breeze whispered around their tent. The cicadas were silent on such a cold night. Wings fluttered somewhere beyond their sanctuary.

Crows? An owl? Some other bird? Amari didn't know. She didn't bother to check, either. She lay on her back, eyes looking at the top of the tent, but truly looking inwards while ruminating about the world they lived in.

It had to change. It had to. The cycle they were caught in wasn't sustainable for the future of their species or for the world itself.

"What is at the core of our divisions?" Amari pondered. "And how do we change it?"

"Your mother once told me the differences between people of opposing Nations were trivial," Miss Anbu said. "There are no differences between the baker in the Leaf, she said, and the baker in the Cloud. Nor are there differences between the shinobi of the Leaf and the shinobi of the Sand.

"At our core, we're all trying to survive. We're all trying to make it through this day and to the next. We're all trying to sell enough bread.

"What is the core of humanity's division? Your mother believed Nationalism and Imperialism divided us. We are proud of our Nations, we fight for them, we support them come hell or high water to the detriments of others.

"Why, she asked me. Why are we proud of our Nations? What is it we should be proud of? Because we are born here? That is Nationalism based in ignorance. None of us chose where we would be born. Why should we be proud simply for being born by chance in a country not of our choosing?

"Are we proud because of its values? What values are these? The sabotage and destruction of other Nations for our benefit? Is that a virtuous cause? National interests dictate the sabotage, destruction, or conquering of competitors, is that a reason to be proud of one's Nation?"

Amari turned onto her side. "She was asking you to consider what values you were fighting for, while questioning the very system she had been apart of."

"Yes," Miss Anbu nodded once. "I was too young to understand everything she questioned, but now… I see she was seeking answers, just as you seek answers. As Shisui, your father, and all shinobi do.

"What is it we fight for? Why is it we fight? Who dictates we must fight? These are questions many veteran shinobi are faced with after years of conflict. And loss."

"Hmm. Well, we can't blindly follow Imperialists, and we can't fight only for Nationalistic pride. The fighting will never end that way."

"I often wonder if it will ever truly end," Miss Anbu admitted softly. "Once acts of violence, sabotage, or betrayal are committed, it no longer matters how trivial our differences are. Little can stop the tide of war or the calls for bloodshed."

"I think it will end. Someday," Amari said. "Maybe not in our lifetimes, but one day we'll stop fighting each other. I do know, though, that it will never stop if we maintain the status quo. People will continue to fight and die in pointless wars if we do nothing at all."

"We fight so they won't have to."

"Right."

"That was your mother's belief, too,"

"Apples don't fall far from the tree," Amari smiled. Then let it fall for a serious expression. "For the world to reach that day, where kids like you and me don't have to fight in or witness wars, I believe—no, I know we have to take action now. Even if that means wielding words of peace instead of blades and fists, then that, too, is a part of our fight to change the world."

"Few know how to wield peaceful words. Many merely rely on the fist or the way of the sword to express themselves."

"It's easier to punch someone you disagree with than to listen to them. It's easier to kick down at someone if it makes you feel better about yourself. It's easier to destroy the competition than it is to reach your hand out in search of cooperation. Especially in this world tainted by lies, bad blood and betrayal. Honest people, after all, are the first to fall."

"Or be removed."

"Mmhm. When we threaten the powers-that-be we become targets they seek to remove. Like Lady Pakura."

"Your parents and Shisui as well."

"Yeah. It isn't going to be an easy road. But we have to keep trying. I have to, anyway. I've seen the potential for it. I've seen worlds where peace was finally achieved. So I know the day we stop trying is the day hope for the world will truly die. But as long as even one of us still seeks an answer to peace, as long as even one us kindles the flame of hope, then a future without war will never be lost."

"Then, as long as you walk this path, I will walk beside you. No matter what adversity you face."

"Looks like I'm the safest girl in the world." Amari wiggled and shifted in her sleeping bag. "On a totally unrelated note, you still haven't taken your mask off. Or told me your name. You haven't stopped by, either."

"I…haven't." Miss Anbu seemed to admit, taken off guard by the sudden shift of conversation.

"You could."

"…I suppose I did not want to interrupt your training."

"Mmhm."

"Haya…" the woman sighed.

Amari giggled. "I'm only teasing. I know Anbu identities are highly classified. There's also the Foundation's eyes and ears possibly zeroing in on me; they likely know your connection to my family, so if they see us together, they'll know who I am instantly. Not to mention the genjutsu on my mind and how it'll react."

"It's a complicated situation," Miss Anbu said softly.

"More like troublesome." She covered her mouth as a yawn ambushed her. "Anyway," she began once it passed, shutting her eyes, "we'll be seeing each other more often, so it's not like I won't learn eventually. Besides, I don't need to know your name or see your face to know you are family."

The conversation ended there.

After a quiet "goodnight," Amari fell asleep, exhausted by the day of training.

It would be the last peaceful night of sleep she'd have for several days.

Morning came early.

---

After being stirred awake by Miss Anbu, Amari started her day with a light yoga routine, focusing on flexibility, balance and core training. No additional weights. No additional difficulty beyond body weight and morning stiffness.

Breakfast followed—a warm meal of fish and rice cooked in a pan over the fire.

Afterwards they set about deconstructing their camp. It didn't take long, nor did they delay their departure. They moved from one task to the next with the efficiency of seasoned travelers and shinobi.

They weren't on vacation. She hadn't won a ticket to see the wonders of the Waterfall Village. So, once fully packed, they hit the road again at a good, even pace.

The walk felt peaceful. Though the nip in the air stung her face, seeing the sun rise put Amari in a good mood as she ventured onwards. Plus she didn't end up a sweaty, out of breath mess this morning, or freezing in a river.

Take your victories where you can.

Training would be put on temporary hold as they neared the border; training too intensely at this stage was risky bearing in mind the potential dangers of the mission. Amari didn't complain.

This far north, the kunoichi thought, considering her proximity not only to the Waterfall, but the Grass as well, it has me on slight edge. I know we're still in the Land of Fire, but knowing the Stone are making moves somewhere out there…

All the same, Amari walked on.

Closer to whatever awaited her beyond the border.

---

Tree branches whipped by the shinobi donning black, hooded cloaks.

The leader of the Waterfall had underestimated the greed of his opposition. He had underestimated the influence and sway of the Stone Village's honeyed promises.

Or, perhaps, he had rightly estimated both. Perhaps he went far and beyond to secretly emigrate a shinobi the Stone sought above all others because he foresaw this day.

His secrecy meant little now. His foresight had only changed the environment of the ambush, not its inevitability. Now the shinobi he sought to emigrate remained within the borders of the Waterfall, while the Leaf shinobi he intended to bargain with had yet to arrive.

Their cloaks fluttered as they leapt from tree to tree. Swift, carried on the wind, they whipped through the forest, racing after their fleeing target.

At the helm of the squad was a dark-skinned woman, who's braided mohawk could be seen draping over her shoulder, rising and falling like the tide with every leap. A bald man trailed her; the bandages wrapped around his eyes signaled his lack of sight, yet his movements were deft and his senses keen.

Only the grim twist of the woman's lips could be seen beneath the hood.

Nothing about their situation could be considered reasonable. The Waterfall should have been the last Nation to fall to infighting and greed. Neutrality led to profits, while their defenses kept even the might of the Great Nations from invading their Village.

Staying here was the reasonable choice, yet now…

The involvement—no, let's call it for what it is. The meddling of a Great Nation within the Waterfall, the successful installation of a puppet leader, this will only end one way—war.

The Grass Village, I imagine, is suffering a similar fate.

The Leaf may not see it yet, but a mudslide has already dragged their buffer Nations beneath the surface, now it's only a matter of time before these Nations drown. Then the war will be afoot.

The previous leader's act of rebellion would be the last breath of the Waterfall's neutrality.

It would be the last breath of the Waterfall's independence.

The target came into view below. The squad of cloaked shinobi dashed ahead and leapt down from the trees.

Takako couldn't shake the grim and cold feeling in her stomach.

Why is the world so unreasonable?

---

"Lady Hokage is going to kill me," Amari groaned beneath her breath.

It had been smooth sailing so far. She breezed through the checkpoints at the border without any issue, crossed into another foreign Nation bearing the same peaceful atmosphere as the Land of Fire before the Invasion.

She hadn't paused or rested unnecessarily. She hadn't taken a single detour on the way to the designated rendezvous point, nor encountered any form of resistance or sensed any signs of spies.

In fact, she suspected the Crows were the only spies in her general vicinity, already spreading their network out across the neutral Nation to glean any new Intel.

All was well.

At least it was until she arrived at the rendezvous, where the sights and smells of a recent battle greeted her.

Blood and dirt mixed together beneath the corpses decorating the road. Bodies lay limp through broken windows and were strewn about the interior of the inn. Kunai, shuriken, swords, and other weapons were scattered across the road. Earth Nature ninjutsu visibly protruded through walls, Wind Nature jutsus had clearly torn off and gouged out chunks of the foundations.

Talk about a welcoming committee. Might as well have a giant sign that read: Get Out While You Can!

"This is all such a drag," Amari murmured, kneeling beside a dead shinobi, lying face first in the dirt at the entrance. "Lady Hokage is going to chew me out for sure."

Carefully, cautiously, she turned him over; he was certainly dead already, her Byakugan could see that, but whether or not the people responsible had left behind unsavory traps was another question.

Once he was turned over, she examined his body and searched his pockets for identification or Intel that may help. His headband was marked by the Waterfall Village's symbol. His wounds were the result of a blade, while he had never even drawn his.

Ambush, she noted.

She found nothing of note in his pockets, or the others she checked.

The carnage, and the bodies, led inside the roadside inn. Blood pooled beneath the still warm corpses. Amari noted civilian casualties among the bodies—the receptionist and five clients.

The receptionist lay supine halfway in and halfway out of a side room, her legs kept the door creaked open—killed while attempting to flee. The clients of the inn, the people merely savoring a calm morning breakfast and cup of coffee were in varying dreadful states.

Some were dead beneath tables they cowered under to avoid the carnage, others were lying on top of each other, executed after the battle. Plates, mugs, and cold food were sprinkled by flecks of blood.

They didn't want witnesses, Amari theorized, stepping over body of a Waterfall shinobi. She moved calmly, silently, and appeared undisturbed, all save the tight frown on her lips.

What pointless death. What pointless cruelty.

Their world was far from utopia. Inexplicably far.

These shinobi managed to form a defensive formation, she noted, carefully analyzing the bodies and their positioning. Were they the ones I was meant to observe for emigration? No.

She stopped at a Waterfall kunoichi, impaled and pinned to the hallway wall by a stalagmite of stone. Looking left, the Nara noted two more dead Waterfall shinobi in defensive positions, and the corpses of those they had slain before falling in battle.

Silently, she approached the bodies. Her hairs stood on end, a cold tingle formed at the base of her neck.

These dozen have to be between Chūnin and Jōnin. Handing this many over to the Leaf? No. The Waterfall wouldn't do that, even in an effort to place spies. We'd suspect such a gracious offer of duplicitous intentions immediately.

No, she paused at the corpses. This defensive structure—these shinobi were protecting a VIP. Someone they were willing to lay their lives on the line for. Whoever attacked did so with considerable forces. Otherwise they wouldn't have found it necessary to retreat.

Amari kneeled to examine the dead shinobi, directing specific attention to the attackers rather than the defenders. They wore cloaks over plain clothes; civilian attire, at a glance, except for the metal mesh visible beneath the collars of their shirts.

"They're Waterfall shinobi," she murmured. "Now that's unexpected. Seems the Waterfall isn't as united as optics led us to believe. Quite the twist, wouldn't you say, you traitorous scumbags?"

Their sharp intake of breath was satisfying. Searing crimson flicked up to the ceiling; she saw the invisible shinobi jolt in surprise.

And that was even more satisfying.

"I see you," she said coldly.

Both lookouts lunged for the kunoichi, one from the ceiling and the other from the floor behind her, slashing their blades across the kneeling girl's neck and back.

Black feathers exploded from the body. Cawing Crows took shape and lunged at the enemy shinobi in return, attacking them with their beaks and sharpened talons.

Both men cursed and yelled as they raised their arms in futile defense, then their bodies went rigid, overcome by a Paralysis Jutsu. The Crows from the Crow Clone dispersed from the hall.

Through the doorway she appeared to enter moments before, Amari stepped into the secured hall, Byakugan and Sharingan activated. Miss Anbu materialized behind the man who lunged from the ceiling.

"You didn't even bother to capture me," the Uchiha drawled, approaching the Waterfall shinobi with purpose filled steps. "Looks like whoever's in charge doesn't want a single witness to survive or for the Leaf to interfere. I could run theories on what's going on here. But why would I waste precious time and brain power doing that…"

Standing between the two, they could only look at her from the corners of their eyes, but that was enough. They could both see the searing crimson gaze of the Sharingan.

"When you'll tell me everything anyway."

The tomoes of the Sharingan began to spin around her pupil.

Demonic Dragon: Shadow Checkmate.

Shadows submerged the hallway until none of its shape or form remained. It devoured the corpses, the walls, the doors, until nothing and no one except the two Waterfall shinobi and Amari remained. Only the red glow of the Sharingan glowed within the darkness.

At first.

Hot air from wide, flared nostrils rushed through the void; the malevolent chortle of a tremendous, hungry beast brushed against the nape of the Waterfall shinobi's necks, and their hearts, she knew, jumped into their throats. Cold shivers raced down their spines and their palms began to sweat.

Abruptly, they both let out screams as two black claws clutched around their pathetic flesh. The dragons talons burrowed deep, deeper, piercing through and through until warm streams of blood coated its wicked scales.

Trembling in fear, in agony, the Waterfall shinobi's found their heads turning against their Will's, forced by the quiet kunoichi to face the dark divinity of her strongest genjutsu. To face a monster of such darkness, of such rage, they would regret their final moments alive and sinful deeds, while welcoming the inevitable death that would claim them.

Lightning suddenly cracked behind the dragon, causing it's malicious scales to gleam and shimmer briefly, revealing its enormous wings and titanic body to the two mortal men. It held them both mere inches from its grinning teeth so that every hot, heavy breath rushed across their bodies and faces.

The two shinobi gasped and choked. They started to plea for mercy.

Their pleas went unheard. Just like the pleas of the innocents they mercilessly slaughtered had been ignored, so too would their pathetic supplications for mercy.

Evil red eyes glowed sadistically, delighted by the fresh, full-course meal. The dragon's maw opened, and from the molten core of its diaphragm, burning hotter than the sun, came the mountain shaking roar of hatred, fury, and darkness.

Lightning cracked again. Flames erupted behind the dragon as it let out a roar that vibrated through their bones; its black scales reflected the flames, appearing as if streams of fire were coursing through its body. It's enormous and devilish wings expanded, reveling in its pride and darkness, and the wails of the cretins in its grasps.

"Feast on their flesh," Amari ordered coldly.

The Waterfall shinobis screamed. One instantly fell silent as the dragon devoured the first's upper body in a single bite, tearing it from its lower half like a piece of jerky. The second wailed even louder and tried to writhe, but he, too, found himself eaten.

When the dragon finished, Amari revived the two Waterfall shinobi within the genjutsu, assembling them piece by piece.

Two sets of wide, horrified eyes gawked at her. They remembered dying, they remembered every painful moment of it, and yet here they were.

At her mercy once again.

"Again," she ordered.

"No- no! Noooooo!" wailed the Waterfall shinobi who lunged from the ceiling.

"Hellpppppppp! Someone! Hel— Aghhhhhhh!"

The dragon took an arm first, lifted its head, then flung the amputated limb into the air, catching it and crunching it beneath its teeth.

Once more they were devoured by the dragon.

Once more they were reassembled. And the cycle repeated, remorselessly, until she had squeezed every scrap of Intel from them.

Within a blink the dragon and all the darkness vanished. The corpse filled and battle damaged inn returned, light illuminated their surroundings, yet the two Waterfall shinobi remained incapable of moving their bodies.

They came to in the hallway panting, sucking in air greedily, eyes wide and empty. Sweat poured down their pale white faces, it dampened their clothes.

"No way," Amari gasped, the last piece of Intel striking her like a runaway train.

Then she turned on her heel and leapt down the hall to the room the Waterfall shinobi had fallen back to.

"Did they tell you everything?" Miss Anbu called after her, half turning from the paralyzed men.

Amari forced herself to pause, bracing her hand on the doorframe. She spared a hurried glance back and nodded.

"Yeah. It's worse than we expected. We need to find their trail. Right now."

The Nara hurried into the lodgings without another word. Without a glance back.

A tornado had wrecked the Waterfall shinobi's room. The bed was thrown across the room, its long side leaning against a wall. Kunai and shuriken pierced the walls, the floor, the ceiling. A dead defender lay before a gaping hole in the back wall, where they had made their final stand to hold the enemy forces at bay so their VIPs could gain a head start.

Immediately Amari created four Shadow Clones and sent them to investigate every corner of the room for anything their contact left behind. As they spread out, Amari made two quick bounds to the hole in the wall, then out onto the grass beyond.

Signs of retreat and pursuit were clear in the flattened blades of grass.

They didn't just come from inside the inn, Amari noted, scanning the grass with her dōjutsu. They came from all sides. These tracks… The traitors were here in force. We're looking at a troop estimate matching that of the Anbu unit that tried to take Gaara and Hikari out. Maybe larger.

Lady Tsunade was definitely going to kill her.

Biting on the tip of her thumb, Amari swiped the bead of blood across her palm, created the handseals, and pressed her palm against the grass.

Summoning Jutsu.

Black scripture spread across the blades of grass. Smoke expelled from the seal, and then a wing, colored black with an iridescent basil shine, dispersed the cloud, revealing the youngest squadron leader among the Crows.

"Lady Haya. How may I serve you?" Tsugumi greeted.

Due to her younger age, Tsugumi was slightly smaller than Atsuko, falling short of knee-length by the length of Amari's longest finger. Since they first met Amari noted her to be generally reserved, soft-spoken and modest.

Despite her age, however, her talents and calm judgements had earned her the right to fly beside veterans like Osamu and Kazama. She had not only aided their efforts during the recent Gelel incident, but also during the Invasion.

"Sorry to drag you into this, Tsugumi. I know you were spreading a network."

"It is okay. My subordinates have their orders." Tsugumi paused. "The scent of death is strong here. Something terribly foul has already occurred on your mission. Are you hurt?" she asked.

"No. We found the inn like this and caught the lookouts left behind before they could lay a hand on anyone else."

"That is good. I suspect you have learned a great deal from them."

Amari sensed Miss Anbu step through the hole in the wall behind her.

"I did," she agreed. "The contact I was meant to meet is on the run from a large squadron of traitorous Waterfall shinobi. Can you help me locate them? I think we're only minutes behind these guys; the bodies are still pretty fresh. We need to reach them before the traitors can finish the survivors off."

"Of course, Lady Haya. I will locate them at once."

Tsugumi took flight without another word to search the terrain. Given the size of the attackers, and the likelihood of combat, it wouldn't take her long.

Rising with a sigh, Amari felt the sudden rush of memories from her Shadow Clones.

Damn, she cursed. There isn't anything else here. Either these shinobi already removed anything of importance, or our contact just didn't have the time to leave behind a message of any kind.

"Haya, what have you learned?" Miss Anbu asked. "You said the situation is worse than we expected."

"It is."

Amari considered where to even start. She considered just unloading every piece of Intel she now possessed from the very beginning, starting with how the Waterfall had split into two factions; there were those behind the original Village leader, and those behind a new faction, set on seizing power by force for a yet unknown reason.

The lookouts weren't well-versed in all the politics. They were on the lower end of the totem pole, possessing just enough information to fall in line with the new faction and take part in this mission, but not enough to be among the higher ranks of the hierarchy.

She considered explaining the fallout of the two factions, and how it led to the very mission they were now on.

Instead, after a breath, Amari looked the woman in the eyes and smiled weakly.

"The Waterfall is in the middle of a coup d'état, our contact is the deposed Village leader, and the shinobi he wanted us to take in…

"Hehe," she let out a nervous giggle, "it's the Seven Tails jinchūriki."

---

How on earth did it come to this?

Hand pressed to his wounded side, Shibuki grunted in pain and frustration as he leapt through the trees.

No, I don't need to ask. I know how this happened. I was too naïve. I thought I could maintain our neutrality through peaceful dialogues alone.

I should've known better, he cursed himself. I should've known by their show of force what was at stake. I should've seen that I was an obstacle they could remove. Had I acted sooner, had I asked for aid from the Leaf before… Ggh!

Pain surged through his side as he landed, discharging pins and needles through his legs. He felt the strength of his legs suddenly vanish, the muscles and bones seemed to go slack.

He couldn't keep going, Shibuki realized, almost feeling detached from his own body, as though watching and understanding his condition as an observer instead of living through it.

He couldn't push ahead any farther. He had little strength left. Too little to reach the border. Too little to survive.

I'm at my limit. This is… This is it for me.

On legs as solid as wet tissue paper, Shibuki halted on the branch of a tree, lowered into a crouch, and hunched into a ball. The searing pain in his side refused to let up, it burned and ached and throbbed all at once, leaving a clenched fist in his chest.

He breathed heavily, harshly, struggling to find the oxygen in the air. His skin was flush, his face hot. Perspiration soaked his body.

They must have laced their blade with poison. He grit his teeth. There's only one real choice now…

"Shibuki!"

He nearly didn't sense the kunoichi—his student—leap to his side; the poison was overwhelming.

Through one eye cracked open and another squeezed shut, he forced a smile as he looked at the petite girl, who's hair was the color of fresh mint, contrasting her caramel complexion. Her big orange eyes were examining his side, her small hands trying to pry his bloody hand off the wound so she could see it.

He kept his hand firmly planted against his side. She couldn't fix it. He was beyond help now.

"They had poison on their kunai. Looks like they really wanted me dead. Hehe," he chuckled despite the morbid conclusion.

"Poison?" she gasped. "We need to remove it! Or get an antidote!"

"No time," he panted. "Fū, you have to go."

"I know, I can carry you!"

She wasn't listening. Not really. She was panicking. She would do anything to save him. Anything for a friend.

His student tried to sling his arm over her smaller frame. He grimaced, but restrained his movement, rendering the act impossible.

The remnants of his forces—a squad of six now—quickly joined them.

"There isn't time to delay," Shibuki said.

"Then stop struggling! I can carry you, you know!"

"I won't last long anyway."

"Don't talk like that! All we have to do is get to the border and everything will be a-okay, you'll see."

"Fū," he grunted. "They're almost on us again. Even if you carry me, I'll slow us all down, and then we'll never make it to the border. I won't make it to the border anyway, so I won't ask another to sacrifice their life so I may live a few more precious hours."

"Shibuki, please—"

Shibuki reached his free hand up, placed it behind the young girl's head, and brought their foreheads together. Her orange eyes glistened. He smiled kindly, warmly.

"It's okay. It will be okay."

"Don't leave me behind," she pleaded. "You're my friend. My first and only friend."

"I was the first, but I won't be the last," he assured, rubbing her head. "This world is full of kind people. People who will see the true nature of your heart, and they will cherish you, as I did. Hold those people close, Fū."

"Shibuki, we have to move," Yōrō, a trusted Jōnin of the Waterfall, spoke up.

He knew that. He simply didn't want to say goodbye. But he had to. For their sake.

"No matter what happens, stay true to yourself, Fū. Never stop moving forward."

He rose with a light grunt. Seeing that her orange hair clip was askew, Shibuki made the effort to adjust it the way he knew she preferred it, then pat her on the head one final time.

"Follow your heart. Make friends. Live and be happy. That's my final wish for you. Now, go! I'll slow these shinobi down."

The pins and needle sensation had lessened, if only slightly. The clenched fist in his chest remained.

Gathering the last of his strength, Shibuki turned back in the direction of the enemy shinobi and leapt across the branches.

"Shibuki, I won't ever forget you!" Fū cried out to him.

Shibuki smiled but did not turn back.

Take care, Fū. I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. However…

He dropped off a tree branch and onto the forest floor, nearly collapsing as he did. Trembling, grunting, Shibuki was pale as a sheet and clammy, but he wasn't dead. No, he wasn't dead. Not yet.

The future of the Village—the world—rests in the hands of the children. It is the duty of the leaders—the adults—to protect and nurture that future. I can't lie, I'm frightened. I don't want to die. God, I'm afraid, he exhaled a shuddering breath.

Reaching into his green shirt, he pulled an hourglass-shaped bottle from its secured place on his belt.

But, as the leader of the Waterfall, I will lay my life on the line in order to see you saved. I will protect its future until I draw my last breath.

He popped the cork off the bottle, brought it to his trembling lips, and began to chug its contents down one gulp at a time. The clear liquid was smooth and flavorless.

Few outside of the Waterfall Village knew of The Hero Water. A specialized liquid, it could only be produced once every one hundred years from the giant tree that had safeguarded their Village since its founding.

By drinking the water, a ninja could increase their chakra and its power by ten-fold for a short period of time. However, as with all great power, it possessed a deadly drawback.

The user's lifespan would be shortened proportionally by the number of times their chakra was increased. But he was a man with something precious to protect.

What was a shortened lifespan when he had one foot in the grave already?

Father, I finally understand.

Shibuki threw the glass bottle down, smashing it and scattering any lingering droplets into the earth, where no one could ever recover it. At least for another hundred years.

I understand why you went so far to protect the Village. If I had only understood sooner…

It doesn't matter now, he thought, feeling a sudden surge of power course through his body. I'm sorry I failed to protect the Village, but though its independence will fall on this day, one day it will be free again. I know that without a doubt.

From the trees and darting across the land, shinobi charged the dying man. He could hear the resounding stomp of their gathered feet rumble through the earth. Could hear their blades being drawn, and the whistle of blades on the air.

Suien, you may have stooped so low to be a puppet of your new masters, but you have never understood the heart of the Waterfall. You never understood the heart of its people. They will reject you and all you stand for. So, though I may die here…

A cloak of chakra poured off of Shibuki, deflecting the blades.

The heart of the Waterfall will live on!

"You will not pass!" Shibuki declared to the charging shinobi, his chakra beginning to swirl like a vortex around him.

In one hand, a sword constructed of water formed. With the other he formed one-handed handseals.

Shibuki then sprayed a jet of water at the earth, and a tidal wave taller than the trees and a furlong in length erupted before him.

And the chaos of battle and screams of shinobi echoed through the forest.

Thus the final stand of Shibuki, Village Leader of the Waterfall, would be etched into history.

His last act would be the rallying cry of the resistance forces for years to come, as the Hero of the Waterfall was said to have fought while poisoned, all in order to defend his retreating shinobi.

The stories would say he wiped out half of a fully armed company of shinobi on his own. Before inevitably succumbing to his wounds.

Unlike many tales and legends, it wouldn't be far from the truth. None would truly know how his tale spread to even the shinobi of the Leaf, and eventually all of their allies, but the name Shibuki of the Waterfall would live on in the hearts of all those who opposed the Stone Village's Empire.

The Third Tsuchikage would not be pleased.

---

What was the worth of a shinobi's life? And who dictated its value?

Takako had pondered those questions for as long as she could remember. The answers varied, in her experience, depending on who was asked and their position amid the hierarchy of shinobi.

To the Fourth Raikage, strength equaled value—worth. A weak shinobi—weak of body and spirit—was essentially worthless to his stern and decisive eyes.

To Orochimaru, no life held value. No life except his own. Everyone else was a tool, an experiment, or someone who merely caught his fleeting interest.

To Master Jiraiya, the young shinobi under his command within the Land of Sound were lives worth protecting and fighting for.

To the new Waterfall regime and their puppet masters, the lives of the common soldier were easily thrown away, commanded to complete an objective no matter how many died in its pursuit. No matter how many casualties—shinobi and civilian alike—were tallied.

Those who survived would be praised for fulfilling their mission, those who died would be forgotten.

To the fleeing Waterfall shinobi, the lives of their comrades, the lives of their leader, and the life of a single girl were worth fighting to the death over.

And to the Waterfall's deposed leader, his men and that same girl were worth dying for.

Varying views of life and its value had surrounded Takako. They had since she first consciously interacted with the world, whether she had understood it or not.

As she leapt through the trees, she pondered the same questions over and over again.

What is the worth of a shinobi's life? And who dictates our value?

Since the ambush, life after life had fallen to the blade. Sometimes two at a time. Civilians had been slain—executed like lame horses. For the sin of merely being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

More lives continued to fall in both camps.

Who were they dying for?

In one party, a man willing to forfeit the independence and neutrality of a Nation so he and he alone could rule, even if it meant bending the knee to another.

In the other, a man willing to sacrifice his life to protect a jinchūriki, preventing the puppeteers from gaining its power, even if it meant handing the child over to a different Great Nation.

Nothing about this is reasonable.

Takako pressed on all the same. She leapt through the trees, bare branches whistling by her ears.

What other choice did she have? Where else could she go? She was perpetually trapped in an unreasonable conflict, with no road behind her, and an unknown future ahead.

So, she continued to leap ahead, despite the grim twist of her lips. Despite the disturbing sensation in her gut.

Who was she to judge anyone's methods or value, anyway? She had abandoned her homeland for a snake charmer's lies. She had killed and sinned as much as any other Sound shinobi before abandoning them as well. All in an effort to find the reasonable path forward.

Who was she to judge this world when she was just another bloody cog in the machine?

When she was just one more shinobi to die because of another man's greed.

This is just the way of the world. I cannot change it. I can only hope to find a reasonable path through all this chaos.

Before it's too late.

---

Leaping off the crooked branch of a slightly uprooted tree, cloak fluttering, Amari's sandals splashed against the saturated forest floor, uprooting the sitting water gathered in every direction she looked.

Total devastation surrounded her. Amari felt goosebumps scatter across her body. Such carnage. Such profound destruction.

It wasn't just one or two trees nearly yanked from the earth like weeds, but dozens. They were torn from the earth despite their deep, thick roots, they were missing branches or possessed the human equivalent of broken limbs, snapped like twigs, hanging limply from their trunks, ready to fall.

She would've suspected a tsunami wave had crashed through if they weren't surrounded by solid earth on all sides. She would've suspected Mother Nature awoke in a foul mood and had decided to wipe the slate clean had she not seen the colossal tidal wave spawn from nowhere.

Yet the wave had spawned from nowhere. They were surrounded on all sides by solid earth, so only a shinobi could be responsible for this carnage.

Amari's eyes flitted about. There were soaking wet bodies of dead shinobi everywhere, strewn across the earth in every direction; their bodies were crushed against trees or impaled on branches by the tremendous rogue wave; some were carried from the epicenter on the current of a flash flood, tugged beneath the surface and drowned before Amari ever set sight on them.

The power of that jutsu, the power of their chakra…

It'd been unnatural. Enhanced by some unknown force. The Eight Inner Gates, maybe? A technique bearing similarities to it?

Amari rushed past the corpses of the pursuing shinobi, sandals at times splashing through standing water, other times glowing with chakra as she ran atop puddles that were deep enough to sink her to her ankles.

She scanned the area for surviving pursuers. At the same time, she observed a terrible growing trend among the dead shinobi.

Their uniforms varied, as did those in the Leaf, but the common thread—or rather, the common dye uniting them was violet. All the Waterfall shinobi, whether traitors or loyalists, wore something violet on their persons, from her observations. Generally vests or jackets.

Which made each and every red uniform among them burn into her retinas.

For red was the uniform color of the Hidden Stone Village.

They're not supposed to be here, Amari thought, jaw tight. But they are. I've seen at least half a dozen Stone shinobi among their ranks. They must be the masterminds behind the coup.

Dammit, she cursed. They're actually doing it. They're actually trying to build an empire, and the Waterfall is already in the palm of their hand. They didn't even have to launch a full-scale invasion to claim it.

Now we're behind enemy lines, racing against at least half of a full company to rescue the Seven-Tails before the Stone can kill them and turn someone else into their tool of power and destruction.

Great. Just great.

How did she always end up in these awful messes?

Amari slowed down as she entered a flooded clearing, where dozens upon dozens of soaked bodies uniformed in violet and red were lying face first in the saturated earth or piled on top of their allies, slain, cut down, lashed by water, drowned, or otherwise halted in their tracks before a single man.

A man still clinging to life. If only barely.

Several kunais, spears of stone, and swords pierced him through and through. He sat on his knees, hunched forward; he would have fallen face first into the dirt were it not for the spears holding his limp body up.

"Found a survivor," Amari called out, though it was unnecessary. Miss Anbu had doubtlessly sensed him already.

She hurried to his side. Miss Anbu dropped from the canopy beside the man. Beating wings signaled Tsugumi's approach before she landed on Amari's shoulder.

"This is the Waterfall Village's leader. Shibuki is his name," the Crow noted calmly, but not without surprise.

"Their leader? Dammit." Amari kneeled beside the man. "The Stone seized this Nation right under all of our noses."

"Let's not delay any longer," Tsugumi ushered. "This man sacrificed his life to buy his comrades time. The most we can do for him now is see they safely cross the border."

Amari knew the Crow was right. Despite that, on a fleeting hope, she examined his wounds with her Byakugan, only to feel an awful twist in her stomach.

She couldn't do anything for him. Not a damn thing. He was beyond saving, even if a medic-nin of Lady Tsunade's caliber were here right beside her, they wouldn't be able to save his life.

Beneath the flesh, his organs were grotesquely mutilated by the spears of stone and swords impaling him. And, looking at the dark tint to the water his legs were submerged beneath, he had already lost too much blood. Far too much for a Plasma Pill to replenish.

"He doesn't have long," Miss Anbu said. "Use your Sharingan. If he has any Intel to grant insight into the Waterfall's downfall, now is our only chance to ask."

Nodding grimly, a frown creasing her lips, Amari leaned down and reached her hand forward, brushing the long dark-brown hair out of his face to better see his half-lidded, ink-colored eyes.

Channeling chakra into her right eye, the tomoes began to spin around her pupil.

I'm sorry. But this is all I can do.

Her eye widened slightly.

Sharingan!

The saturated forest collapsed away. In its place Amari created the precipice of The Beyond and all of its colorful nebulas painting the sky, the galaxies shining like the stars, the stream she and Haya had walked beside, and even the spirits racing across the colorful sky.

As the world took shape, Shibuki sucked in a sharp breath. The weapons piercing his body vanished, as did his wounds and the pain they doubtlessly caused.

Shibuki first looked at his hands as if seeing them for the first time. He blinked repeatedly, then lifted his gaze to Amari, and then beyond her to the colorful nebulas above.

"Am I…dead?" he wondered.

"No… Not yet," Amari answered honestly, if not hesitantly. "This is a Sharingan genjutsu."

"A Sharingan genjutsu?" Shibuki's eyes fell onto her again. It was then, for the first time, he saw the Sharingan and Byakugan in person. He blinked. Then his gaze fell to the headband hung around her neck, and his eyes went wide.

"Wait a moment. You're a Leaf shinobi!" He sprang to his feet with life and vigor he no longer had in the real world. "You're here to answer my request, aren't you? The immigration request, yes?"

"Yes."

"Then all hope isn't lost. There's still a chance for Fū and the others to reach the Leaf."

"That's my mission now," Amari agreed, nodding. "It'll be difficult, but as long as we move quickly, we should be able to sweep your comrades out from the pursuers and make it into friendly territory."

"Do you have a large force with you?"

A mysterious smile crossed Amari's lips. "Even better. I have the Crows of the Leaf on my side."

She saw several emotions cross Shibuki's face. Surprise at the legendary entity. Hope for his comrades. And then…

"We must…" He paused, catching himself. His expression sobered. "Well, I won't be going anywhere now."

Shibuki visibly shook off the grim reality and met her gaze with the serious bearing of a Village Leader. "You must hurry. You must also be careful. The Stone have seized control of the Waterfall Village. They installed a puppet government."

"Can you tell me everything that happened? Here, in this genjutsu, we have time. Only a moment will pass between when I cast this genjutsu and when it ends, so please, I need to know how the Stone wrested control of your Nation. In order to protect the future from their attempt to build an empire."

"Of course," he nodded. "I'm sorry I had to drag you into this now. I should've acted sooner. I never expected them to act so quickly."

It all began, Shibuki explained, when the Stone attempted to bribe and coerce him into forgoing their neutral status to stand as a "free" Nation within the Stone's grander Empire.

He refused, without hesitation. His people's independence and his Village were not up for sale, nor was his honor.

When it became clear he would not budge, they turned to a rogue Waterfall shinobi, a man named Suien—Shibuki's former teacher—who held ambitions for leadership and power.

Slowly, steadily, they gathered other Waterfall shinobi to their cause by spreading shrewd rumors, about Shibuki's leadership, about the Stone's desire for "peace" and his refusal, among other lies and deceitful tactics.

None of this was apparent, at first. Insulated within the Village by supporters, who loved and cherished Shibuki, people willing to fight and die to protect him, he hadn't seen the acts the Stone and Suien had taken. At first.

"I began to realize something was amiss when the attempts on Fū's life increased ten-fold," Shibuki explained, now sitting crossed-legged with the kunoichi.

"Is she the Seven-Tails jinchūriki?" Amari asked, sitting on her knees.

"Yes," he confirmed, nodding once. His expression became troubled, but she sensed resolve beneath it. "Despite what you may think of jinchūriki, she is a kind and cheerful child. She isn't a monster, so please—"

"You don't have to convince me," she cut him off, waving off his quick defense. "My best friend is the jinchūriki of the Nine-Tailed Fox. Of course there are still others in the Leaf who refuse to see him as a person, but to me and my peers, he's Naruto Uzumaki. He isn't a monster or a demon, and neither is Fū."

Relief washed over Shibuki. The tension in his face disappeared. He exhaled a soft breath and smiled.

"I'm…happy to hear that," he said, his relief clearer than a polished crystal ball. "Knowing that even one person like you exists within the Leaf, it eases my heart and my mind."

Shibuki paused, briefly. When he seemed to find his next words, he opened his mouth to speak, then stopped himself. His eyes darted off to the side in discomfort. Then, after a moment of deep consideration, he spoke again, stammering somewhat at first and refusing to make eye contact.

"I…I have no right to ask this of you. It's cruel to ask, in my position, to leave you with a dying wish. But…Amaririsu, please, if you could look after Fū and see that she meets your peers and makes friends, I would be eternally grateful to you."

Amari didn't hesitate to answer. She reached forward and rested her hand on top of his. Finally he met her eyes again. What he found there removed the weight of the world off his shoulders.

"You have my word, as a Leaf shinobi, and as the Head of the Uchiha Clan, that I will do everything within my power to protect Fū," she vowed. "Even if that means I must protect her from the Leaf itself, from those within it who would seek to remove her and seal the Seven-Tails within a Leaf shinobi, I will."

No hesitation. Only sincerity and resolve flowed through her being.

Shibuki bowed his head. "I'm sorry for whatever trouble it will cause you, but Fū is precious to me."

"Then she will be precious to me as well," Amari said. "I will do everything I can to protect her, even if it means I must leave behind the shadows I've been sheltered in for so long. I promise."

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

They discussed the final events leading up to their present moment, his initial hopes when turning to the Leaf, and how the Stone and Suien's forces overthrew the Waterfall far sooner than he imagined.

He had believed there was still time to ferry Fū away. Perhaps even to join an Alliance with the Leaf and counter Suien's coup.

"I hoped to survive this encounter," he explained. "I hoped to cross the border with Fū, then I would have rallied those still loyal to me and the Waterfall's independence. The people of my Village, of this Nation, they did not desire to take part in a war. They did not wish to become a battlefield of the Five Great Nations or beholden to them.

"Had I not been poisoned, I may have led a resistance against Suien's forces. There would've been no shortage of volunteers." He lowered his gaze. "Now, I fear, the people and children of this Nation are bound to suffer under his cruelty. They are caught in the war, despite my intentions. And I will not be there to lead them." He clenched his hands into tight fists. "I won't be there to fight beside them for every inch of our Nation until it is free once more."

"Perhaps you will not be there physically. But in spirit you will be," Amari countered. "This is not how either of us wished this to end. Yet you are the beloved leader of this Nation. Your name, your beliefs, they live on within those you leave behind. Shinobi and civilian alike.

"Our actions are what we are remembered by, and you will be remembered. You will never be forgotten. Not by your comrades. And not by your enemies."

"I…won't be forgotten?" he repeated, mulling over the thought.

"Suien and the Stone sought to silence your dissenting voice. They sought to remove you from the board. Instead, they have created a hero. A rallying cry for all those who resist their regime. Your name, this last stand you committed yourself to despite being poisoned, will light the way towards freedom.

"You will be the spark which ignites their Wills to fight. You will be a thorn in Suien's and the Stone's side, a thorn they can never remove. A thorn that will lead your people to retake their homeland someday in the future. Do not doubt that for a moment. I know that's a cold consolation…"

"No," Shibuki shook his head, smiling. "I appreciate your words. You've reminded me of the power our actions have, how they can resonate far beyond our small lives. And knowing I'll be a thorn in Suien's side even in death actually makes me feel a little better," he added, chuckling softly.

Amari smiled faintly, for a moment.

"I'm sorry I can't do more for you," she apologized.

"You've promised to fulfill the selfish wish of a dying man. That is more than enough."

"I'll make sure your name is never forgotten. Because I won't forget you, Shibuki of the Waterfall. I'll have your name and deeds spread across the shinobi world."

"You are a kind child, Amaririsu Yūhi," Shibuki said, smile warm as the desert sands. "Had our fates been different, it would've been an honor to fight beside a shinobi like you."

"Likewise."

"If you could do me one final favor."

"I'll do my best."

"Send me off as painlessly as you can."

Amari shut her eyes, chest tightening. She took a breath, then nodded.

"I will. You'll pass from this world while in this peaceful genjutsu and enter the Pure Lands and their everlasting peace. Anyone you've lost before now will be waiting for you there, with open arms, that, too, I promise you."

"Thank you, Amaririsu. Take care of Fū. Though, I should warn you, she may be a bit of a handful."

"Don't worry," she smiled kindly. "I've got a knack for handling hyperactive knuckleheads."

"That's a relief," he chuckled.

"Farewell, Shibuki of the Waterfall."

"Goodbye, Amaririsu Yūhi. I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances, but I'm happy the Leaf sent you. Now go. Don't let me keep you."

Amari blinked and returned to the saturated forest. She pulled her kunai free of Shibuki's heart, exhaled a long sigh, and sheathed the blade in her ninja tool box.

"We'll meet again someday, Shibuki," she said softly. "Until then, may the Pure Lands grant you the peace this cruel world stole from you."

Naught but a moment passed between casting the genjutsu and returning to reality. All the same, Amari felt the pressure of time quickly slipping through their fingers.

I was too late to save him. But this mission is far from over. There are still people I can help.

And I will save them.

Unrolling a scroll over her lap, she bit both of her thumbs, drawing blood before quickly creating a storage seal onto the paper; Shibuki deserved a proper burial, something she couldn't give his fallen allies.

"What have you learned?"

"Hold on a second."

Amari finished her seal and quickly sealed away the leader and Hero of the Waterfall. Once done, she rolled the scroll up, stuck it into her pouch, and swiped her bloody thumbs across both palms.

"Ninja Art: Summoning: Blacken the Sky Jutsu!" Amari slammed her palms against the saturated earth. A massive black summoning seal formed beneath them.

From the forest floor through the canopy, and upon her shoulders, plumes of smoke burst as she summoned a regiment of Crows—one thousand total—into the conquered Nation.

"Ah, Lady Haya, I see your knack for attracting trouble remains intact," Osamu greeted from her shoulder.

"This is quite the gathering," Tsugumi noted.

"Lady Haya, how may my regiment serve you?" Kazama called from the trees.

"Kazama," Amari rose from her kneeling position and spoke not as a Leaf shinobi, but as the Head of the Uchiha Clan, "Your regiment will be moving with us. The Waterfall has suffered a coup and the Stone has installed a puppet government.

"Our objective is to rescue the Seven-Tails jinchūriki and her remaining Waterfall comrades. Prepare yourselves for combat—there's at least a half of a company of Waterfall traitors and shinobi of the Stone between us and the Land of Fire."

"We are at your command, Lady Haya," Kazama dipped his beak sharply.

"Osamu, I need you to report everything I've learned to Atsuko and Lady Hokage," she continued. "I'll use a Sharingan genjutsu to save us time."

"Of course."

After transferring the information to Osamu, her companion reversed summoned himself immediately.

"I'll fill you in on the way," Amari said to Miss Anbu. "We can't delay any longer."

Miss Anbu nodded. "Let's go then."

Don't worry, Shibuki. No matter what, we're going to rescue Fū and your comrades. I promise.

---

The Village leader of the Waterfall had sacrificed himself to buy time for his comrades. A noble end, if there ever was one.

Ultimately, though, the pursuers already had a plan in motion. A reasonable plan, by all metrics.

It was no secret those fleeing would seek salvation at the border of the Land of Fire, where Leaf shinobi were at a state of high alert, waiting for any potential invaders. Especially those bearing red uniforms.

So although there were no strong ties between Leaf and Waterfall shinobi, the knowledge of the Stone's seizure of the Waterfall and a jinchūriki were tremendous bargaining chips. Enough to barter safe passage and protection from the pursuers.

The most reasonable action, then, was not to only pursue the fleeing Waterfall shinobi, but to send a unit ahead to encircle them. Which was exactly what the pursuers had done.

Despite Shibuki of the Waterfall's noble intentions, his fleeing comrades had run straight into the second squad of purely Stone shinobi. Right into their trap, like blind mice drawn to the scent of cheese, unaware of the mechanism set to snap their necks.

The time he bought with his life had already run dry.

On the road traveling east and west across the Nation, enclosed by a forest on its north and south, the song of blades, the rapid vibrating of a large insects fluttering wings, and shifting of earth echoed as the fleeing Waterfall shinobi fought to carve a path.

The jinchūriki flitted about above, insect wings extending from her lower back—a result of a partial Tailed-Beast transformation. For a kid she already possessed strength near to par with newly appointed Jōnin. In fact, the fleeing shinobi owed their continued survival to the child.

For how much longer that would remain true, Takako couldn't say.

Shoving away a kunai, she evaded back, teeth grit, and felt her comrade's back—Riku—press against hers.

"The reasonable conclusion, huh?" he asked, and she could sense his morbid, if not sincere, smile.

"At the time," she replied. "Now there is only one reasonable conclusion."

"Seems that way."

Takako flicked her gaze around at the uniforms of red and violet surrounding them.

They had nowhere to return to. There would be no negotiations, no surrenders. They either carved a path forward. Or died.

The only reasonable choice was to survive, or, at the very least, see that someone survived this incident. If only to prevent the Stone from seizing another jinchūriki, and then crushing one of the few powers that could stand against them.

I hold no love for any of the Five Great Nations, nor do they have a place in their hearts for me. The Waterfall was the only Village we could have found a sustainable life as shinobi simply for its neutrality.

However, regardless of my personal feelings for the Five Great Nations and their crooked system, a totalitarian regime consolidated beneath a single Great Nation is the greater of the two evils.

Her fingers tightened around her kunai.

The Stone cannot be allowed to succeed.

Shinobi from all sides attacked their small unit. Three Stone shinobi leapt at the former Sound shinobi. Takako grit her teeth.

What a cruel and unreasonable world this was.

At that moment, Leaves rustled wildly. Crows cawed.

Suddenly black shapes exploded out of the canopies, blackening the sky with their feathers, before whistling over the road.

In grim detail Takako witnessed the crows tear through the flesh of the three shinobi leaping for her. The splatter of blood and gore rained down upon her cloak; she saw their eyes widen in shock before crashing to the ground with a dead thump!

Out of instinct, Takako and Riku raised their arms as the black birds weaved through them, yet they never felt their flesh tear, their skin clawed, or holes drilled through their bodies, as many of their former comrades had.

The birds ignored them, attacking only the Stone shinobi and those of the Waterfall standing beside them.

"Whoa!" the jinchūriki cried out, evading the onslaught of black missiles. "What's with all these birds? Are they on our side? Hey!"

The Crows of the Leaf, Takako felt her eyes go wide and her heart pound against her chest harsher than before. What are these birds doing here? Why aren't they attacking us?

Screams of the enemy shinobi as they were attacked or slain echoed around them.

From a flock of birds, a short sword of fire suddenly appeared, followed by a blue-haired child slashing the blade across the backs of two Stone shinobi. She slid on the earth, spinning as she did, launching a blade of fire at the enemy shinobis. She slid to a stop with her back facing Takako and their unit.

"Don't just stand there gawking. If you're loyal to Shibuki, get going to the border!" the child commanded. "The Crows of the Leaf will cover our retreat, so get moving!"

It's her! Takako inhaled sharply.

The child from the Invasion. The one with the Sharingan, who's furious gaze still haunted her dreams.

From the trees leading south, the shade of a woman flashed through the branches, cutting down Stone shinobi with quick, efficient strikes, opening an exit through which to retreat within a few breaths; the Stone shinobi, their corpses falling and crashing to the earth, hadn't sensed her, let alone seen their killer.

The Anbu kunoichi made a quick gesture with her hand.

"Hurry! This way!"

"We're in your debt, Leaf shinobi!" Yōrō declared. "Fū, Kegon, Riku, Takako, fall back!"

There was no debate from any of the shinobi. They all fell back, except Takako, who found herself standing flat-footed, staring at the back of the young girl.

As if sensing her hesitation, the girl shot a sharp look over her right shoulder; her red eye sent chills shooting down Takako's spine.

"Do you want to die? Go!"

Takako flinched, turned on her heel, and leapt away. Retreating with her new allies.

Rescued by the very child who would have killed her not so long ago. She could only hope the Uchiha girl wouldn't remember her.

Takako knew that was an unreasonable wish, but she wished it all the same.

---

A/N: Hope everyone has a safe holiday, a Merry Christmas, or just a good weekend, and I hope 2023 will be even better than 2022 for each and every one of you! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!

Review Response to camobear: Thank you!

Review Response to Isobel Bauch: Thanks! It'll be back to every other Friday from now on.

Review Response to Guest: Happy belated birthday!

Probably the only war to be happy about seeing, and we're seeing a bit more of it in this chapter. More obviously to come as the war and the actions of the Stone alter the world we all know.

Naruto and the others will steadily get more skills over time. It's just a matter of not only making it feel natural with the progression of the story and their character development.

I don't believe you told me about Neji's elements or his ninjutsu, I also don't have the databooks so I generally rely on fandom pages or my own character sheets when I need to refresh my memory on a characters current skill list or what their potential is. I'd expect to see the others using elemental ninjutsu, if they aren't already, in Shippuden.

I assume they were kept in their niche for two reasons, first because it made them each have unique styles, second because they weren't really given time to grow on screen/page.

Anyway, thank you for the review!