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.

177. Chapter 176: To Stand Beside Them

Chapter 176

To Stand Beside Them: The Heart of a King and the Assault on the Palace!

Whipping wind howled in Hikaru's ears, deafening nearly all else. All except his pounding heart, which was as sharp as the trumpeting chimes of a winning slot machine, pulsing as quickly and as powerfully as the horse galloping beneath him.

Hikaru ducked his face into the neck of the horse. He curled his fingers into its lashing mane. His breaths were sharp, his eyes burning. Terror, cold and relentless, clutched his heart.

The secure arm of a royal guard, seated directly behind the boy, held him tightly around the waist as the horse galloped through the dense woodland, weaving in and out of trees, breathing harshly. Snorting. Grunting. Frothing on the bit.

He heard the exertion of the loyal steed distinctly over the persistent howl of wind. He felt their hooves pounding against the earth, bouncing him uncomfortably at times.

Why is this happening?

Hikaru curled his fingers tighter into the mane, wishing to wail and cry. The fear kept his voice locked in his throat.

I thought we were supposed to be safe. I thought the hideout was secure.

Father…

Whimpering, Hikaru shut his eyes against the tears.

The ambush occurred suddenly. After the shinobi and Captain Korega departed with the circus. From the still silence the mob of men—members of the royal guard who had betrayed his grandfather—emerged from the shadows of the woodland, charging forward on horses and on foot, the frontline of foot soldiers bearing tower shields.

Hikaru had frozen up at the sight of them, eyes wide open at the chaos unfolding before him.

The clash of steel, the shouts and bloodcurdling screams and cries of men, and the blood… There was so much blood. People fell, writhing and screaming, pressing hands helplessly, in futility, against grotesque wounds. Someone screamed for their mother. Another, who was struck in the head, lay on the ground convulsing. Others became so unnaturally still, and their faces drained of color.

Fighting, he realized in his horror, was nothing like the video games he played. There were no health meters or rounds where the defeated enemy rose again in perfect health for a second chance to claim victory. There was no respawning, no retries, no inserting of a coin before a timer finished a countdown to rise again from defeat.

In the real world, people simply got hurt. And died. In pain. In agony. And fear. They could've been the most skilled soldiers in the world, they could've performed every right maneuver, parry, block. But in the chaos of battle, even someone who did everything right couldn't stop a man caving in their skull from behind.

The sight of blood and death, hearing their horrible screams, had ejected the food from his stomach.

People were dying. People were killing. Some in an effort to capture him and his father for execution. Others to protect them from that fate, sacrificing their lives in their place.

It was all horrifying.

In the heat of it all, their guards opened up a path through the enemies. Suddenly Hikaru had found himself in the arms of Captain Korega's men. It was only as the man leapt onto a horse that Hikaru saw his father.

He was pinned to the ground, writhing but uninjured. He'd been too slow. They were already binding him as a horde of soldiers charged straight for them.

"Father!"

All he could do was cry out for him. Then the horse had taken off, bucking and farting, kicking the leader of the charge before the steed tore off through the forest.

They'd been galloping for an eternity. Somewhere behind them, he knew, there were other horses, mounted by the same men who had captured his father and killed the guards meant to protect them. He could almost hear the hooves of their horses pounding through the earth and into his tight chest.

Their horse whinnied. It blew hot air through its nostrils roughly once, twice, and a third time, causing wisps of condensation to gust out like cigarette smoke. It's hooves thumped quickly, flattening blades of grass, leaving behind prints of horseshoes in the dirt.

Hikaru squeezed his shut eyes tighter. The eternity refused to end. They were on a never-ending track, a treadmill that they would collapse on long before they ever reached a true destination.

They were going to die.

The horse suddenly shoved its hooves into the ground to halt, so suddenly Hikaru felt himself lunge forward against the arm of the royal guard. The arm kept him secured. Anchored. Then they halted completely.

Although the wind stopped howling his ears continued to ring. All other noise became distant and incoherent babble.

Figures rushed to their sides. It was the shinobi. They must have sensed them coming; they were too prepared for their appearance to be a surprise.

Hikaru, weak and trembling, didn't raise his eyes from the mane, didn't loosen his fingers. His mind was buzzing, his cold skin tingling.

Haku was at his side. He gently began to peel his fingers from the mane of the horse.

"It's going to be okay, Hikaru," he said. "You're safe now."

Hikaru sniffled and shuddered as the Mist shinobi helped him off the horse, then he clung to Haku for dear life, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Simultaneously, Natsumi and Hinata caught the royal guard as he collapsed off the back of the horse; the adrenaline had finally worn off, and though Hikaru hadn't seen them, he bore wounds from a sword, an arrow protruded from his right shoulder.

"We've got you," Natsumi said to the royal guard as she and Hinata slung his arm around their shoulders. "Captain Korega, Amaririsu, we're coming to you! Get ready to close the passage behind us!"

They were running again. Over Haku's shoulder he saw a carbon copy of himself and their guard leap onto the back of the horse. On the copy's command, the horse turned right and tore off again.

Captain Korega and Amaririsu were near the top of the stairs when Haku passed them, descending a staircase as though entering a cellar, and as soon Natsumi and Hinata were through the Captain and shinobi closed the ceiling on the passage, sinking them in a mixture of orange lantern light and bending shadows.

Captain Korega and Amaririsu did not follow them down the stairs. They held their ground, watching the ceiling apprehensively as though peering through the solid surface. As though they could see the enemies approaching.

Amaririsu's finger traced the cold, ring-like pommel of the blade holstered on her thigh. Captain Korega's hand clutched the hilt of his sword. They were hoping the decoy would draw anyone off. They were hoping no one had seen them enter the secret passage. And praying the arrival of Hikaru alone didn't announce the death of a second King.

They made it onto flat ground but didn't stop running. At least not immediately. Once they were more than ten strides in, Natsumi and Hinata stopped, helping the half-conscious royal guard to sit.

"I have him, Natsumi," Hinata assured, already applying her green-hued hands to his wounds.

"All right."

Natsumi stood up, turned on her heel, and jogged back to the entrance, where Amaririsu and Captain Korega remained at alert.

Haku didn't set Hikaru down. He held him close and rubbed his back in gentle circles.

Hikaru was grateful. And afraid. His body was hot, sweaty, and yet he felt chills all over. His empty stomach churned. He wanted to go home. He wanted everything to go back to normal.

Curling his fingers tightly into the Mist shinobi's shirt, he hiccuped and sniffled. His shoulders shook and tears streamed down his cheeks.

He wanted his father back.

---

Thrown to the floor, Michiru groaned as he first crashed against his queasy stomach, then bashed the tip of his nose against the velvet carpet of his father's chambers.

He felt his eyes sting with tears as his head spun. How many times had he visited these very chambers as a child? As a teenager? Of all the places for Shabadaba to claim as his own, to seize his father's chambers and drag him here, now, after having watched him pass… It was salt in a raw wound.

Michiru struggled there, nose smushed against the floor, instinctively trying to use his arms to rise. The tight ropes kept them bound behind his back.

He then tried lifting his knees in while pressing his chin against the floor for another base of support. Heavy steps approached, echoed by the shifting of plated armor. The dull thud of a pole striking the floor caused Michiru to jolt, sourced by the flat end of a spear a guard had decided to rest beside his ribcage.

Michiru froze. Whimpered. He glanced back, but the expression on the guard's face was neutral. Apathetic, he supposed. He, like the guard on his other side, had chosen his new allegiance. And, like the poor souls he'd seen hanging from the palace walls, they would do nothing to stand against Shabadaba now. No matter how much he pleaded.

"My, my, my, my," the Minister's sneering voice was echoed by his heavy steps, and the steps of his assistant. Michiru, sweating in fear, struggled to rise upright on his knees to look the man in the eyes.

Shabadaba's expression matched his voice. He turned his nose up, sneering quite viciously at the rightful King. His assistant's expression was a strange smile, as strange as the quiet man himself; he carried a silver bowl filled to the brim with fruits—luscious pears, blackish-purple grapes, red apples and a pineapple as its main fixture.

"You put us through a great deal of trouble, you royal tub of lard!" Shabadaba declared.

"Why are you doing this?! My father was your friend! How could…" Michiru grit his teeth, afraid and angry. But mostly afraid. "How could you betray him?!"

"Hahahaha!" Shabadaba let out a cruel laugh. "Friends? He and I? Don't be silly! I served him, yes, but then the darling old fool turned idealistic!"

The Minister couldn't have sounded more disgusted by his father. Shabadaba turned away and stalked off slowly, gesticulating in frustration as he continued to speak.

"He started getting ridiculous notions about helping the poor and the old and the downtrodden, lifting the taxes on the rich and lowering the taxes on the poor to build them homes, paying for their healthcare from the state treasury, and on and on!"

"My father…wanted all of that?" Michiru wondered in awe.

He'd never heard him talk about it. He'd never asked.

"It was absolute madness!" exclaimed Shabadaba, who hadn't stopped ranting. "After all," he added, grabbing a pear from his assistant's bowl, "where do you think all these tasty delicacies come from? Out of thin air?"

He bit into the pear, crunching on it as juice of the fruit dripped down his chin. Michiru had to swallow back bile. The sight of food made him nauseous, to see anyone eating after all the blood and death he'd seen made him want to dry heave. For that was all he'd be able to do now, after emptying his stomach on the way.

How could Shabadaba eat anything after all he'd done? How could he not be sick to his stomach after hanging so many people?

"Because this country is rich," he spoke with his mouth full, "you've always had everything you've ever wanted, eh." Shabadaba swallowed, then continued. "But that old fool, your father, thought we should share the wealth. 'We must invest in the people,' he'd say. 'The people are our greatest treasure!' What utter hogwash!"

Furious, Shabadaba threw the pear down. It didn't bounce, but exploded on the carpet.

It was such a waste, the thought struck him out of nowhere. Such a waste when there were people who wouldn't be able to eat today.

How much food had he wasted through the years? Food they could've fed hungry mouths with, but he'd let go bad, or threw out without a thought or care.

It was all such a waste. The pear, the food, and the loss of life…

"There's only one thing that matters in this world!" Shabadaba was storming towards him. His assistant followed daintily. "Call it what you want: Gold, capital, money!" he screamed. "Money is the only thing that counts!"

"Huh?" Michiru gasped.

Shabadaba's purpose confused him, at first. Money? Money was all he cared about? It was what he'd done all this for? Money of all things? But he already possessed money, plenty of it. Plenty to afford more than a single house, to buy jewels and gems and anything and everything he could want.

Shabadaba already had that kind of wealth.

At that moment, indignation flushed through Michiru at the absurdity of it all.

"That's all it is? You've done all of this just so you can be rich!" he boomed.

"Yes," Shabadaba grinned.

"But you're already rich!"

"Hehehehe! True. But I want to be more than just rich!"

He slapped both of Michiru's cheeks playfully, like a cat pawing a mouse it had caught by the tail. Michiru winced, trying to shift his head away. Shabadaba then grabbed him beneath his chin.

"I want to be swimming in wealth! I want coffers overflowing with gold!" He began to jab his finger into his face. "I want to be as fat and as spoiled as you are!"

Finished playing, the Minister turned and walked away, leaving Michiru with his head bowed. Tears leaked down his cheeks.

"And for that…you killed my father?" he wept.

For money. For something so meaningless his father was dead.

"Well, however it happened, the King is gone." Shabadaba took a long, calm breath. "And now," he added, "the responsibility is mine."

"No! That's not true!" Michiru shook his head. "I will be King!"

He'd never cared for the title before. Never considered what he'd do as King. However, Michiru couldn't allow Shabadaba the chance to taint their Nation with his bloodthirsty greed. He wouldn't let him kill their people for speaking out against him. He refused to let the murderer destroy the Land his father loved so dearly.

"Hmhm. Oh no, very unlikely."

Shabadaba made a silent gesture. Without a word, the guards hooked their arms through Michiru's and began to drag him out of the room. Sweating, crying, he kicked at the floor and writhed for freedom.

"Shabadaba!" he screamed.

He didn't see the guard raise their gauntlet covered fist.

Everything simply went black.

---

"I see. Hmm."

Kakashi's grim and pensive hum vibrated in Amari's ear through the headset, contrasted by the stark, out of synch thump-thump-thump and clap-clap-clap of Korega's heavy boots and their sandals in the dark and still tunnel.

At the front of their formation was Captain Korega, he led the way through the escape tunnel with a lantern in hand, strides long and jaw clenched. Natsumi and Haku were behind him, the latter of the pair carrying Hikaru. The wounded guard, Hoshino, kept pace; the wonders of Medical Ninjutsu, adrenaline, and determination to save their King.

Outside of the halo of light, three lavender eyes pierced the veil of light and dark, and a single red orb, like a searing brand, glowed ominously in the shadows. Hinata and Amari held up the rear of their formation; their eyes were better suited to follow in limited light than their Mist comrades. Especially now, when time was of the essence.

"Someone must have seen the circus enter or leave the forest," Kakashi judged. "With the mammoth and the size of the circus… I suppose it was too much to hope we'd only pass by sympathizers of King Kakeru and King Michiru."

"It wouldn't be hard from there for the guards to trace their steps to the cave; the prints of bears and mammoths are too distinct to miss," Amari agreed. "As are the tracks of a horse drawn carriage."

"Yeah."

I should've left Shadow Clones, she thought. But I didn't. I was trying to conserve as much chakra as I could, knowing we may be up against Chakra Armor or something like it. I was trying to conserve my strength for rescuing the hostages and the battle against enhanced shinobi of unknown abilities and strength…

She could see Hikaru clear as day through her dōjutsu. He had his face buried in Haku's shoulder, eyes puffy and red from the tears he'd shed. She grit her teeth and clenched a fist.

And Captain Korega's men, King Michiru, and Hikaru all paid the price for it.

There was no time to lament the loss of life or the trauma it caused Hikaru. She couldn't waste time cursing herself for the mistake she'd made, not when the King's life was dangling in the balance now.

"To save the hostages and the King, we'll have to end this all in one move," Kakashi said.

"I agree," Amari nodded. "Our plan doesn't have to change that much. We'll use the element of surprise to catch the shinobi and Shabadaba completely off guard; as of now they have no idea where we are, or that we'd be gutsy enough to sneak in and attack them head-on."

"True. What about the guards that pursued Hikaru?"

"My Shadow Clones will handle them. And anyone returning to the palace."

"All right. That should limit the resistance we face. Our primary focus should be securing the King. Shabadaba won't wait to execute him; he'll likely turn it into some form of entertainment, given what Hinata saw. Once the King is secure we'll focus all of our efforts into eliminating the shinobi and capturing the palace. That will secure the King, the hostages, and the Nation all at once."

"Right," Amari nodded. "We'll reach the end of the tunnel soon. It's a straight shot into the palace from there."

"Okay. I'll get everyone into position on my end."

---

"No! Stop! Shabadaba! What are you doing to me!"

Michiru couldn't see, but he could feel the rough hands on his body, the harsh fingers digging into his biceps, his elbows, painfully shoving his back, forcing him to stumble through complete darkness. The blindfold was serving its sinister purpose.

Forced ahead by the powerful grip of men once loyal to his father, Michiru struggled and thrashed for freedom, to no avail or sympathy. He flushed angrily at the sound of Shabadaba sadistic chuckle, joined by the indistinct voices of others he couldn't place, somewhere now behind him.

Michiru tried to dig his heels in. He tried to halt his forward motion entirely, hoping his weight would provide some manner of advantage against the guard's gripping his bound arms, terrified of where they were leading him. Terrified because he had seen enough examples to presume his destination, he knew Shabadaba's intentions in his harshly palpitating heart.

Despite the blindfold, the King knew his father's palace without his eyes, so when he felt the rush of cold air strike his body and heard the light howl of wind, Michiru knew they'd taken him to the highest balcony.

The cranking of a winch met his ears. His chest tightened. In his mind's eye he could see the crude new installation vividly, he had seen it from the courtyard as they dragged him in and now could effortlessly imagine the wooden planks and the winch from which they intended to hang him, as they had hung so many others.

Michiru doubled his efforts to free himself. He thrashed harder. Wriggled. Dug his heels in. He couldn't die here. He couldn't. He hadn't seen Hikaru grow up yet. He hadn't found his dream. He hadn't fixed things with Amayo. There was still so much he had left to do!

The guard's were too strong. They forced him ahead, though not without effort.

"No! Stop it!" he wailed. "Let me go!"

They stopped suddenly. Before he could feel any sense of relief, the guards rough hands gripped him tighter at the arms. He felt hands grip the waistband of his pants. Then, with grunts of effort, they hoisted him off his feet for a long moment, yanking his pants up as they did, before setting him down again. He wailed more.

"This is such an entertaining way of executing people," Shabadaba judged, pleasantly entertained by the scene.

The guards hefted him vertical. Michiru sucked in crisp air desperately, lungs aching, sweat pouring down his face and soaking into his clothes. He was tired, nearly out of strength.

Two hands secured him on his right shoulder and arm. The other set of hands left, for a moment. Inhaling and exhaling rapidly, the cranking paused and he felt a thick rope rest on his collar.

On instinct he thrust his elbow back. It made purchase on a guard, striking him beneath the chin, it felt. The man grunted, then his armored body collapsed noisily against the stone balcony. Suddenly two sets of hands were on him. He thrashed, writhing with all his might for freedom.

"Now, now, don't overdo it, Michiru!" Shabadaba taunted. "I want to savor this a little longer!"

Michiru shifted his right foot as he thrashed about and set it down again, only there was nothing solid beneath it. He felt his heart jump.

No! His mind screamed.

His body was already falling, when the hands that were restraining him dug their fingers into his shirt, catching and holding him as his foot dangled off the edge of the small surface he was standing upon.

Swallowing roughly, he felt the rope already burying into his neck. He didn't want to die. God, he didn't want to die. Not like this. Not this soon.

"Take the blindfold off."

When the piece of cloth was removed, he was greeted by the sight of a handful of wooden planks stretching out before him on both of his sides. Just as he remembered it. Bodies swayed lifelessly at the ends of ropes, the crude wooden pulley systems creaked and groaned.

Horror struck Michiru first. Nausea close behind it. Gasping, he took a step back and felt the stone balcony press against his spine.

There was no way out. There was nothing he could do. The dread that crashed onto his shoulders brought him to his knees on the thin piece of wood.

He was going to die.

"Crank it."

The pulley system began to crank again. Michiru didn't move. Not until the rope went taut and began to suffocate him. He was on his feet a moment later, tugged nearly upright and dragged towards the end of the plank against his Will.

The wind howled. The machine cranked and groaned. Closer. Closer. The edge was nearly upon him.

"See that you don't fall off too soon! I paid good money for this show, hehehe!"

The crank paused suddenly.

Standing nearly three quarters of the way to the edge, Michiru halted against his forward momentum; the rope around his neck was loose enough to breathe unimpeded for the moment. Terrified, teeth grit, he looked over his shoulder to see the patrol of guards manning the pulley system. Their expressions revealed no sympathy or compassion. They were just following orders.

Just beyond them, seated on a throne, was Shabadaba. He propped his head up on a fist, sneering with all of his sadism. He was enjoying this. He truly was enjoying the sight of watching a powerless, bound person dragged towards his inevitable execution.

Flanking him on both sides were his assistant and five of the Ministers who had aligned themselves with Shabadaba. The corpses of former Ministers and dissenters swayed beside Michiru, and from the walls of the palace.

All of you… He felt terror and anger mingle together. All of you betrayed Papa. You killed these people and so many mor—

The plank bent beneath Michiru. Losing his balance, he stumbled forward, watching the edge rapidly approach in a horrified state.

No, no, no, no!

He planted his right foot at the edge of the plank, bending at the waist, balancing on the single leg lest he step straight off. Grunting, swaying and struggling to right himself, with all of his yearning to live he threw his head and weight backwards.

He swayed back, stumbled, then planted both feet on the plank. The King did not sigh in relief. He breathed heavily and whimpered, his heart roaring like high-tempo parade drums. Tears glistened in his eyes, locked on the earth so far below. Fat beads of sweat rained off his face.

He'd almost just died.

He was going to die. And there was nothing he could do to save himself.

Michiru lifted his head, feeling every bit of his mortality in his trembling legs. He looked out at the Land of the Moon, its red roofs far in the distance, and he gasped.

Suddenly all went silent. He could not hear the wind howling or the creak and groan of the crude pulley systems. He did not see the corpses beside or below him, and even the guards and Shabadaba melted away.

For a moment all else ceased to exist. All else except the Kingdom—the world stretching before him.

Up there, at the edge of life and death, he felt a strange warmth grow in his chest as he looked out at the horizon. And for the first time in his life it was as though he could see the world with clear eyes.

He could feel an…unknown energy emanating from the trees and all their leaves, which seemed so much brighter, so much more full of life than he had ever noticed. They seemed to hum, to sing soft songs he'd never heard before.

The energy, he realized, was flowing through everything. He could feel it in the ancient mountains, in the sea, in the glades, and the city. It was as though he could feel everything, every creature large and small, every plant, every flower, every tree and stream, every stone and blade of grass.

All of it. The energy was flowing through all of it. Even him. He could feel he was connected to it, and all of it connected to him. All the way at the palace he could hear the birds chirping among the foliage far below, the sea crashing on the sandy shores, he could feel the heartbeat of the island and the soul of the wind. He could feel the world breathing.

Every piece interconnected in beautiful harmony. The world…it was more beautiful than he had ever known.

At that moment, Michiru sensed a familiar presence. It made the warm feeling within his heart grow warmer, it drew an invisible blanket over his shoulders to protect him from the cold, and spoke to him deep within his soul.

"Joy, happiness, our hopes and our dreams, a place of peace and harmony—that is the sort of Land I envisioned."

Tears poured down Michiru's cheeks.

"Papa…" he whispered.

The love of a father and the hopes of his people, the living world and all its creatures, and an indescribable love flowing through him and everything in the world—he felt it all in that moment.

The terror fell off his slouched shoulders, his legs ceased to tremble. Michiru pulled his shoulders back. He stood up straight and raised his head high.

There, at the edge of life and death, Michiru Tsuki stood with the heart of a true King.

---

Toshio Motojiro of the royal guard crawled along the earth, sniffling through a bloody nose, gasping at times for air between pitiful groans and terrified whimpers.

She's a monster! A devil! I don't want to die. I don't want to die! I want to live!

His left eye swollen shut, his heart pounding like the galloping horses he once led, he kicked with his left leg and clawed at the earth, heaving his weak and broken body towards the cave's mouth with a desperate hunger to survive. To live. His right leg dragged limply along the ground, the fibula and tibia broken.

Miserable groans and horrible screams from the tortured souls of hell surrounded him, reverberating off the cave walls. He tried not to look. He tried not to hear them. But there was no escape from the screams of his comrades, those who had joined him in his pursuit of the young Prince and the traitor.

I don't understand, he grit his teeth through the pain. Prince Hikaru and Hoshino were on that horse. We followed them straight here. And then…

The devil emerged. She did not speak. She merely attacked without provocation, without mercy, cold and silent.

He crawled past two men. They were both unwounded. Not a single cut, not a single broken bone—nothing. Yet one was quivering, spasming from head to toe uncontrollably; he clutched his head while wailing, tears pouring down from his eyes. The other was hyperventilating, staring blankly at the ceiling.

More lay with swollen faces, broken limbs, broken noses, jaws, orbital bones. One of the men lay with a kunai stuck between his shattered teeth. Another writhed, slamming up and down on his back as he screamed, his broken leg pinned beneath his own tower shield. Others were merely cut to ribbons.

However, not a single soul had perished among his men. Death would have been too quick.

They were to be punished.

They were being punished.

"God, oh god," he whimpered.

Toshio, the last of her victims, did not hear their punisher stalking behind him. He felt her, though. He felt the remorseless and composed fury permeating off of her, he felt how she stepped lightly, arrogantly, knowing that she and she alone wielded control.

As he reached the mouth of the cave, a black sandal came into view. And crushed his hand beneath it. The bones in his middle, pointer, and ring fingers shattered, drawing a piercing wail from his lips.

"Going somewhere?" she wondered coldly, speaking for the first time.

She then began squishing his broken bones as though crushing a cockroach beneath her foot. Searing pain surged through his whole being. He howled and writhed, punching weakly at her foot to no effect.

"What happened?" The Devil asked in a cold, remorseless voice. "All of you carried yourselves with strength and pride when you thought you had Hikaru cornered. You marched in, ready to capture or kill a defenseless child, standing tall and proud and oh so brave!

"Now look at all of you. You're whimpering and wailing to the heavens like newborn babies. And you, the leader of them all, so proud, so brave, so powerful, reduced to crawling through the dirt like the worm you are."

She lifted her foot. He grabbed his broken hand in instinct, shielding it from further abuse. Then she smashed them both beneath her heel.

White-hot pain nearly knocked him unconscious. He convulsed unnaturally, his left leg spasmed, and he felt tears prick his eyes.

"Pl- pl- please! Stop this!" he begged.

"What? Is this not how it was supposed to go? You weren't the one meant to feel this agony, were you?"

She stomped on his hand again. The world collapsed into a shapeless white void, but he could still feel the pain, still hear her voice. And he heard himself howling. He could almost feel her teeth grinding together as she spoke.

"You weren't the one supposed to suffer, right? No, not you. Suffering wasn't your destiny, was it? The King, Prince Michiru, and Hikaru, and some dissenters, it was their destiny to suffer. Not yours."

The Devil began shifting her heel, grinding his broken bones beneath her heel. In the white void, Toshio wailed. He cried. And he writhed. It was all he could do.

"All you had to do was hang the loudest dissenters in the streets, display them like warning signs to corral the populace beneath the mighty fist of Shabadaba—that was it, right? They were 'noble sacrifices' for the future of the Nation. But you," she hissed, "you and all your comrades weren't supposed to be here now, were you? You weren't supposed to be screaming and howling for mercy. You, so prideful, so brave, so powerful, were supposed to get out unscathed. Only the weak and defenseless were to suffer. Right?!"

She stomped on his broken hands again. Toshio convulsed against the ground like a headless snake. His bladder emptied without his consent.

And then nothingness.

Only seconds passed before Toshio came to. The Devil was waiting for him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he moaned wearily, pathetically.

"Sorry?" she repeated in disgust.

"I- I- Wait, wait! No, no, n-ahhhhhh!"

Her heel fractured his ulna and radius. Stars and lights danced in his vision.

"You're sorry, huh? Well I guess it's all okay now," she mocked coldly. "I'm sure Captain Korega's men are springing back to life as we speak! And all those innocent people that have died, it's all water under the bridge."

"I didn't… I didn't kill them!"

Her foot left his forearm. Toshio buried his face in the earth, panting, crying. He was relieved for the release of pressure. The agony didn't go away. It persisted, thrumming, making him sick to his stomach.

Suddenly the Devil's hand buried into his sweaty hair. She yanked his face out of the dirt, forcing him face to face with the searing red eye.

"You would've killed an innocent child, you worthless pieces of trash," she seethed. "You would've let that bastard hang his lifeless body on the palace like a wind chime, just like all the others. No," she shook her head. "You're not sorry. You're not even close to sorry."

The girl leaned in. The tomoes in her burning eye began rotating around her abyss like pupil—an abyss of darkness and fire that reflected his own horrified expression back on him.

"But you're about to be," she promised.

Toshio felt steaming hot air rush from flared nostrils against the nape of his neck. He felt rather than saw the sharp teeth barred in a demonic, hungry grin.

Then the beast unleashed a powerful, terrible roar that caused his heart to jump. Then stop.

She released his head, rose, and stepped away.

"Devour him," she commanded.

A deep, guttural noise like a chuckle rumbled in his ears. A forked tongue licked his neck.

At that moment sharp claws pierced through his fragile body, curling through his insides.

Toshio wailed as the monster dragged him back into the cave. Then he screamed like a tortured soul of hell as it devoured him.

Piece by piece.

---

It was the distant sounds of happy trumpets, an accordion, and mallets striking a drum that first caused Yamagata Hata to stand at attention. He recognized the noise. And sighed.

It was that damn circus again, bought and paid for by Prince Michiru. They'd shooed the timid group off once already; the poor souls had seen too much already, no doubt, of what Shabadaba's tyrannical rule looked like.

The least he could do, he figured, was keep them away. The poor circus fools didn't deserve to die—none of Shabadaba's victims had, if he were honest. Although he sympathized with Captain Korega, he had a son waiting for him back home, and fighting against Shabadaba's rogue shinobi was an impossible task for a normal guy like him.

All he could do was show leniency and mercy wherever he could. Like with the circus, whose silhouettes climbed the incline ahead, whose music grew louder and more striking as they approached. He could see the giraffes, the mammoth, the bears, antelopes, and, of course, the people riding tall unicycles while juggling bowling pins distinctly.

Yamagata sighed again. He glanced to his fellow guard, Junichi Tojo, and shared an eye roll. These people needed to take a hint. If they accidentally annoyed the new King or his rogue shinobi guardians they would find themselves at the end of a rope unnecessarily.

He'd have to scare them off. For good this time.

The circus halted before them. Beneath the lamplight of the gates he had a better sight on the zebras, the sabertooth and his jacket wearing monkey partner, the crying clown makeup of one of the performers, and the promoter, who stuck out even among the circus people with his loud red jacket, top hat and bowtie.

"What are you doing here again?" Yamagata asked, exasperated.

The promoter was already sweating, it seemed. He clasped his hands together as though praying.

"Uh, well, you see—"

Yamagata gripped his spear in both hands and, with a light thrust, pointed it at the chest of the promoter.

"Get out of here!" he commanded, trying to sound more threatening than he felt.

The promoter recoiled. He stepped back, raised his hands in surrender, and appeared ready to faint.

Come on, man, get going. I don't want to see any of you die.

"Whoa there brother!"

From the crowd of people a man with silver hair brushed at an askew angle, donning a mask that covered the entire lower half of his face and a black eyepatch stepped through, past the promoter, eye crinkled in a smile.

Yamagata raised an eyebrow.

Is he a circus pirate or something?

"We were hired by your boss for a command performance," Circus Pirate claimed, stepping closer and closer, calm and oozing an aloof air.

Yamagata and Junichi shared a confused look.

"I received no orders," Yamagata replied suspiciously.

The man stopped half a foot from the point of the spear. His eye smile didn't change.

"You didn't?" He sounded like an adult feigning surprise for their amazed child. He brought his hand up to his eyepatch. "Are you sure about that?"

His hand removed the eyepatch swiftly, revealing a crimson eye with small dots spinning rapidly around the pupil.

Yamagata and Junichi stiffened.

Then all of the tension left their bodies as they were enveloped in a world of illusion.

---

The sight of the circus entering the palace grounds bewildered Michiru. He wasn't alone in the feeling. Shabadaba, his assistant, and the other Ministers all stood at the balcony behind him, gazing down at the circus people, drawn by the overly happy music. They were already performing, too, juggling on unicycles. Some of the ladies were performing acrobatics. Others were setting up jumping rings, all to the happy beat of their drums, accordion, and trumpets.

"That circus bunch again? How did they get in?" Shabadaba wondered.

"Shall I send them away, my Lord?" one of the Ministers asked.

"Not so fast. Now that's entertainment. Frankly, he was beginning to bore me."

From all parts of the palace guards and staff filed out to see the circus, filling the courtyard with a captive audience. For a moment Michiru wondered if they were here to mock him.

It was as he saw a man, dressed in the attire of the circus, but bearing familiar silver hair, that he suppressed a gasp.

Is that…Kakashi?

The man stood absolutely still in front of the courtyard's large fountain. He was looking straight at the King.

It is you. You've…come to save me?

"I know I have no right to ask this of you, but as you are honorable people, I make this last request."

"Of course."

"Look after them. Protect them, please."

"With our lives, Your Majesty."

Michiru swallowed roughly. What about Hikaru? Is he safe? Please, if he's still in danger, rescue him and leave me, he wanted to shout.

He couldn't. They had clearly slipped past the guards in order to launch a sneak attack; if he broke their cover, he would doom the circus people who had volunteered to help them rescue the hostages, who he was now counted among.

"Father!"

Hikaru…

Michiru shut his eyes and inhaled a long breath. He recalled the feeling of peace and hope and love he had felt, he recalled the beautiful energy he had felt flowing through himself and the world, and let go of his fears again. In its place he felt implicit trust in the Leaf and Mist shinobi, and Captain Korega and his surviving guard, who had swept Hikaru away to escape despite his wounds.

"What is that?" the voice of a stranger reached his ears.

"Entertainment, of course. A simple hanging is so boring, don't you think, Ishidate?" Shabadaba replied.

"Hmph!"

Michiru opened his eyes, and though he was cold and his body shivered, he did not waver in fear.

I know they will protect you, my son.

---

The old iron door groaned miserably as it was pushed open. A thin cloud of dust drifted off the hidden door and quickly vanished amid the unlit room.

Crouching silhouettes, like ghosts, emerged silently from the fireplace into the trophy room, filled with all manner of ornate vases, statues, plates, a whole cabinet of chalices and goblets, a full set of ancient knight armor, a tower shield, portraits hidden beneath cloths, carpets, and a set of spears jutting out of an expensive pot.

Finally made it, Amari thought as she rose to her full height.

At the rearguard of the unit, with Hikaru now walking behind her, she followed her comrades, their steps imperceptible on the carpet as they approached the door.

"We're clear," Hinata informed in a quiet voice. "There's no one on this floor. They've been drawn outside by Kakashi-sensei and the circus."

"Mm," Captain Korega hummed. He crouched beside the door. "Can you tell us which floor the King and the hostages are on?"

"The King is on the upper terrace, outside of a throne room," Hinata said, looking up and through the ceiling, though the others couldn't see her as keenly as Amari could. "Shabadaba, or who I believe is the man, and the Ministers are all there with him. As are the three shinobi. The hostages are on the fourth floor in an adjoining tower. The room they are in appears to be a small dining area, but they are still being guarded by your former comrades."

"I see. I know the room you speak of."

"I know you're not going to like me saying this," Natsumi began, "but leave the King to us. Those shinobi will be too much for you two to handle."

"You're right. I don't like it. However, I realize my abilities are limited compared to shinobi like yourselves. So I will entrust the King and his safety to all of you."

"I'll send a Shadow Clone with you, Captain Korega, to help rescue the hostages," Amari said. "We're trying to end this in one move, but we should still evacuate the hostages in case there's no choice but to retreat. Will this passage stay secure?"

"Only those who serve the King directly know of its existence. At this moment we are the last who know of it," he said, creaking the door open and letting a thin stream of light to pour in. Out of instinct and caution he kept it only cracked open, peaking through to observe the hall. "As long as we are quick and have no pursuers, no one will know where we entered or where we exited."

"Master Hikaru…" Hoshino, the wounded guard who rescued the Prince, approached and knelt before the boy. He offered a handful of small arrows. "Please, take these arrows. I made them especially for you before the attack. They may come in handy."

They may save your life, is what he really meant. They may allow you to defend yourself against men willing to kill you.

Hikaru smiled faintly in gratitude and took the arrows from him. His hands were still trembling—he knew their true purpose.

Amari intended to keep him from using them for such a purpose.

Your hands shouldn't bear the same blood ours do, she thought.

"Let's go," said Captain Korega.

They exited the trophy room into the brightly lit hallway, illuminated by evenly spaced metal sconces holding three tall candles each, and darted down the hall. Hoshino and Hikaru kept pace with the group. They had no time to lose. The King's sands of time were quickly running out.

Racing through candlelit halls, guided by Hinata's Byakugan and Natsumi's sensory abilities, they quickly arrived at an adjacent staircase leading up into the foyer.

Hinata halted them in the stairwell for a moment; there were a handful of guards descending the foyer's main staircase to watch the circus. Captain Korega and Hoshino held their ground at the double doors, the former peering through a small crack. Natsumi kneeled at the top of the stairs beside Hinata. Haku crouched a few stairs below, with Amari and then Hikaru kneeling side by side at the bottom of the stairs.

She didn't need Mimi's ears to know only the shinobi's heartbeats were utterly calm. She could see the tension in Captain Korega in his stiff forearm and jaw, she could feel Hikaru's fear irradiating off of him as they stood in the middle of enemy territory.

"We're clear," Hinata spoke up suddenly.

Amari nodded. She brought her hand to her ear…

---

"We're in position, Kakashi-sensei," Amari's voice entered Kakashi's ear. "You're up."

"All right. Let's get this started," he replied.

With a quick look, he signaled to the promoter to stand back with a single nod. The promoter nodded nervously, swallowed, and then began signaling his performers to open the floor for what would be the grand finale of their show.

Kakashi strolled to the fountain, climbed onto its outer rim, and moved to stand at center stage. They had quite the audience of staff and guards. He counted thirty-four guards; they would be his primary targets. If one of the shinobi leapt down to fight him, all the better. It'd make the path to the King that much easier for the others to cross.

Now at the center of the fountain, Kakashi spread his arms out and raised his voice,

"And now ladies and gentlemen, our grand finale!" he declared, bowing slightly. He brought his hand to his eyepatch. "So sit back," he revealed the Sharingan, "and enjoy!"

His hands sped through handseals.

Water Style: Water Dragon Jutsu!

The fountain of water, glowing yellow from the lights installed inside the structure, seethed and roared as it shot into the sky, forming a massive wall as tall as the first terrace on the palace.

Quickly it swirled into a red eyed dragon and rushed ahead towards the horrified audience, who wailed and screamed, feet rooted into the earth as the torrent of water charged towards them. Then swept them away in a raging current.

Somewhere above Shabadaba whirled on his shinobi and screamed,

"Ishidate!"

The King smiled in a strange feeling of bewilderment, satisfaction, and hope. The dead swayed in the wind.

The circus people and their animals jumped in to aid. The contortionists twisted themselves around guards, putting them in chokeholds they had no hope of escaping. The female acrobats sprang onto the mammoth and charged it straight at a group of recovering troops. The polar bears cornered four guards between them. The zebras and antelopes chased weaponless staff and enemy soldiers about.

The promoter was fleeing with two members of his circus from pursuing guards when Chamū, joined by Kiki, sprang in and attacked, pouncing the soldiers, swiping through their armor with his thick claws, roaring viciously. A giraffe plodded off to a tall tree and began to eat leaves.

Amid the chaos of shouted orders and wails, of cheering circus people, more guards poured out of the palace.

Kakashi, holding up a half handseal, gripped his disguise and tore the circus outfit clean off, revealing his shinobi attire beneath.

You wanted a show, right, Shabadaba?

Then allow me to give you all the show of a lifetime.

---

The chaotic din of wails, screams, and roaring water could be heard even from the secluded stairwell, although mildly deafened by the walls separating them from the courtyard.

Hinata's eyes weren't drawn to Kakashi's amazing display of power and control over a Chakra Nature that was not his affinity, directing drills, thinner Water Dragons, and streams of water from the gurgling fountain to strike the royal guards clambering to recover or storming out of the palace.

In the inverted black and white vision of the Byakugan, she lifted her chin to the ceiling, watching the shinobi, their immense chakra appearing like fireflies glowing in a windowless, dark room. They turned on their heels from the balcony rather than leaping after Kakashi, instead heading for the stairs to descend deeper into the palace.

"The shinobi are preparing to defend from an internal assault," she informed. "They likely suspect our diversion and intend to protect Shabadaba."

"Do they know where we are yet?" Captain Korega asked.

"No," Natsumi answered before she could. "These three aren't Sensory Types like us. They're probably moving to block the obvious route to the terrace. Right, Hinata?"

"I believe so, yes."

"There's no time to waste, then."

"Right," Captain Korega nodded.

"Hikaru, everything's going to be all right."

Amari's gentle voice drew all of their gazes to their rearguard. She sat with her back facing them, positioned two stairs higher than the Prince, who clutched his trembling hands in front of his chest.

"I'll be at your side the whole time. No matter what, I—no, not just me," she shook her head. "All of us here, we are going to protect you. Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise." She extended her pinky to him. "Trust in us."

With tears in his eyes, Hikaru smiled and hooked his pinky around hers.

"Okay."

Hinata wasn't alone in her smile. Haku, Natsumi, Hoshino, and Captain Korega all joined her.

That's right, Hikaru. There is nothing to fear. We will protect you. All of us.

"All right. Let's move," Captain Korega said.

They exited the stairwell, entered the foyer, and darted up the velvet carpet covered stairs to the second floor. Hinata kept her eyes on the shinobi and informed her comrades of their movements every step of the way.

Of the trio, the man wielding the gauntlet responsible for petrifying the late King held his position on the floor below the terrace, surrounded by a patrol of guards.

At the same time, his two comrades zipped down the stairs. As the enemy shinobi made it to the third floor, cutting off their direct path to the fourth floor, their unit turned through the doorway and slowed to a halt.

Before them stood a large mass of man, a veritable tower constructed of thick, meaty muscle. He was gifted with an exceptionally bulbous nose and long shaggy brown hair. Hosting a wide frame and limbs like tree trunks, his thick lips were parted in a grotesque grin and his beady black eyes glinted sadistically.

The Titan attired himself in a white coat over a black chest plate of armor, a pair of black gloves and a grey forehead protector absent of a Village insignia. His shoulders shook with a malevolent chuckle.

"So he was right. That Ishidate, he's a clever one." The Titan did not so much as speak as he did rumble in a gruff bass. He took a heavy step forward. "He was certain all that ruckus out there was a distraction. And here you all are."

"Careful," Amari cautioned. "That armor, it's the same as the prototype Chakra Armor Dotō used in the Land of Snow."

"Hmm. How interesting. How does a girl like you know of Dotō Kazahana and Chakra Armor?"

Hinata sensed Amari's smirk. "Because my team is the one that killed him and his cronies. So be a good boy and spare us all the 'we're gods among mortals' nonsense. It's boring. And it won't save you."

The Titan paused in front of the adjacent hall, the junction which would lead them up to the next floor. He leered violently at Amari.

"I don't need this armor to snap your pretty little neck. So be a good girl and hand over the Prince. I may spare your life."

Without hesitation, Hinata stepped ahead of Captain Korega and took up the Gentle Fist stance. She narrowed her eyes at the Titan.

"You will have to go through me before you can reach either of them."

His ugly leering fell onto her. "Your choice. It doesn't matter to me which order you chose to die in."

The whistle of a blade was sharp and sudden. It pierced the wall directly on her left, and a form previously invisible to the naked eye moved, leaning back on its haunches. Natsumi strolled up beside Hinata, twirling a curved kunai around her finger, a vicious grin on her lips.

"Well isn't that adorable," Natsumi drawled, stopping beside her. "You thought you could hide from us."

The invisibility dispersed, revealing a small girl sticking to the wall with chakra like a frog or a lizard might; her eyes were pink and her hair long, shaggy and white. Like her comrade she wore a long open white vest, pink skirt and black shorts beneath them, and the same black armor and gloves. She also wore pink lipstick and the grey headband absent of a village symbol.

The girl grinned. "How'd you know?"

"Little girls desperate for attention wear too much perfume."

It was true. Even without the Byakugan or a Sensory Type the royal guard's would've been alerted to the girl's presence simply by the cedar perfume she showered in, the aroma so thick it stung the nostrils.

Rage flashed across the girl's face at Natsumi's insult. "Little girl?! I'll have you know I'm twenty-two!"

Hinata blinked, surprised. But…she's so small…

"Heh!" Natsumi let out a sharp chuckle. "You're as small as Amaririsu. You poor thing."

"Why you!"

"Haku, Amaririsu, Captain Korega." Natsumi spun the curved kunai faster. "We've got these two scrubs. Get going."

"We will leave them to you, then," Haku said.

"Crush them with everything you've got," Amari said.

"We will. Right, Hinata?"

"Right," she nodded. "You can count on us. Now go. We'll cover you."

Without another word their unit darted for the exit. The Titan growled and charged ahead to cut them off, strides long and quick despite his imposing side.

"Where do you think you—"

Hinata appeared beneath his guard, eyes fierce.

I will not let you get in their way!

She snatched him by his large and heavy limb, already pivoting, and tripped his leg to throw off his balance. Utilizing their gathered momentum, she hefted the large man off his feet with as little effort as required, twisted, and then slammed him back first against the carpet.

Hinata restrained his arm, smashed a vertical punch to his exposed face. Then, with a fluid motion, she lifted her leg and drove an axe kick for the same target.

A resounding thud vibrated as her heel and his opposite forearm collided.

At the same time, the girl—rather, the woman on the wall launched after their unit. Natsumi's kunai slapped into her palm in an instant. Then she vanished.

The collision was so quick, to the naked eye there was nothing except a sudden, reverberating boom! Dust and debris exploded from the point of impact as the walls trembled.

As the veil thinned it revealed Natsumi looming over the woman, who she now pinned against the cracked surface. The curved blade was hovering centimeters from the rogue kunoichi's throat, opposed by a straight kunai.

"Quick reflexes. But you're hard of hearing, yeah?" Natsumi asked.

"Your fight is with us now," Hinata declared.

Their comrades and Hikaru escaped into the next room.

Good luck, all of you. We'll handle these two.

The Titan pushed aside her leg. Knowing his physical strength outmatched her own, Hinata quickly released his arm and hopped back, blocking the path to her comrades. She took up the Gentle Fist stance once again.

They would have to go through her, that was the promise she made. And she would keep it, no matter what.

The Titan rose slowly. He brushed his coat off, rubbed his cheek, and grinned grotesquely at her.

"Guess I have no reason to hold back."

"Nor do I," she replied.

Shrill cries of metal meeting in a rapid exchange pierced their ears and echoed through the empty palace. Suddenly the enemy kunoichi flew into view, flipping through the air on a direct path for the Titan. He pivoted out of the way at the last moment, her small body, tucked into a ball, narrowly passing in front of his chest. She landed on all-fours against the wall, like a cat that always landed on its feet.

Hinata's eyes sharpened. The Titan's evasion, the ball the woman tucked herself into, it revealed new Intel.

So, this Chakra Armor is just like the kind Amari fought in the Land of Snow. They cannot come into physical contact with one another or the devices powering their armor will explode.

She glanced to Natsumi, noticed the intelligent look in her eyes, then locked her gaze on the Titan again.

Nice work, Natsumi. Now we know for certain their armor possesses at least one of the same weaknesses.

Amari's and Kakashi's information on their battles against the Snow shinobi put them ahead of Team Seven's own encounter with Chakra Armor. They already knew the weaknesses. Now they only had to exploit them. Crush them, as Amari said, before they could utilize the powerful potential of their armor.

In a flash the enemy kunoichi launched off the wall at Natsumi. The shriek of connecting blades pierced the air, red-hot sparks rained down onto the carpet.

At the same time the Titan lifted his foot and, with a vile grin and immense chakra flourishing at the sole of his boot, he slammed it into the carpeted floor.

Sheets and shards of marble debris uprooted around him. He brought his palm back. Through the Byakugan she saw the sudden surge of chakra emanating from his hand clearly, she felt a swirling draft rush along the floor and walls of the palace.

This is Wind Nature Chakra.

Hinata quickly shifted her weight and flooded her body with chakra.

The Titan thrust his palm forward. The gale, a gusting wall of wind, howled. It swept up the floating shards and larger chunks of marble as though they were loose debris caught in a typhoon, transforming them into deadly projectiles.

Hinata flickered away as he launched his attack. She reappeared on the adjacent wall, dashing along it for two long, quick strides, before shooting off again to the sound of large marble thudding against the floor and crashing into distant walls in the adjoining room.

It's just like Amari said: the Chakra Armor provides an incredible force multiplier to their ninjutsu. A single strike from one of those larger rocks may have proved fatal, or mortally wounding.

Rather than launch straight at her enemy, the Hyūga landed outside of arms reach and allowed her sandals to slide along the carpet to close the remaining distance. The Titan, much like the namesake she'd given him, reacted exactly as she anticipated. He swung his thick and long arm at her from high to low, aiming to strike her at the hip.

The air whistled around his arm. The power behind the whole limb was tangible as it neared. In physical prowess he outmatched her by leagues, it was a natural advantage of his larger frame and brutish attacks. Yet she had an advantage of her own.

Hinata leapt into the air at the last moment, drawing her knees up into her chest, clearing the thick, powerful limb. His black, beady eyes widened a fraction. Hinata's sharpened. She spotted his opposite fist clench, already preparing to strike her as she landed.

Her feet touched carpet. The second heavy fist whooshed; his heavy set frame concealed his speed at first glance, but the Byakugan could see deeper than the naked eye. Hinata struck with both palms to the top of his downward fist, redirecting it's strength and momentum diagonally wide of her body.

The Titan's foundation, his center of balance, crumbled. Through the Byakugan Hinata could see the rapid shifts in his feet, wiggling on its outer edges and on his toes and heels, struggling to reassert the balance she had robbed him of. She could see his knees wobble, his hips attempt to adjust, his jaw tighten, and his beady eyes widen—she saw each little movement in vivid detail.

Inhaling a calm, deep, and yet quick diaphragmatic breath, Hinata drew back a palm and a fist, stepped forward and struck, exhaling as she unleashed the full strength of her attack to his exposed side.

It struck like a concussive blast of kinetic energy. The Titan flew off his feet as though hopping sideways off one foot, face contorted in a grimace. Hinata inhaled. Then sprang ahead, giving chase.

The Titan landed. He stumbled almost drunkenly, breathing roughly, and turned to look over his shoulder.

Hinata was already there, palms raised in the Gentle Fist style, expression and presence calm and serene. Her enemy wasn't. He growled and attempted a back kick while still off balance; his foot, like his fists, was several sizes larger than her own. But he was off balance. He was relying on brute strength, as he had all his life, she presumed.

It left him wide open.

Lowering slightly and shifting her head away, the kick whistled past her ear, the power whipping her hair and fluttering her sweater. Two fingers stabbed into his shin, her opposite palm struck him at the knee, redirecting the limb higher into the air and unsettling the Titan's balance further.

He pitched forward, hands instinctively moving to catch himself before his face could hit the ground. His planted leg wobbled and quaked in search of balance—it made her next attack that much easier.

With a quick motion, Hinata closed in while extending and sweeping her leg to strike the front of his planted foot's ankle. The Titan's legs went vertical. He hovered in the air briefly, bewildered beady eyes locked onto Hinata's calm and serene expression.

"Remember, Lady Hinata," she recalled Kimiko's voice, "if you remain calm, you can dictate the rhythm of the battle. Once you control the rhythm, you can control your enemy. Use the Gentle Fist to redirect the energy of their blows, use it against them and you will be their puppet master.

"Before you do this, however, you must first learn to control yourself. Remain calm. Feel each strike. Every breath. Every muscle fiber. Every cell. You are not merely your eyes. You are not a head attached to a body—you are your whole body. Command control of it."

Hinata inhaled another deep, calm, and quick diaphragmatic breath. She drew her palm and her fist back, stepped in, and thrust them into the chest plate and exposed abdomen of the Titan. His abdomen caved beneath her fist, and she swore she felt the organs beneath.

The Titan's beady eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. Spittle flew from his lips. Another pulse of kinetic energy seemed to vibrate through the walls, and then he shot away, flipping and flopping along the carpet into the connecting room.

My chakra…

The Leaf kunoichi gave chase, brow furrowed. She witnessed the immense fluctuations within her enemy's chakra keenly.

The Titan rolled off his back, onto his feet, and glided along the carpet. Immediately he drew his head and fists back, inhaling a breath that expanded his massive chest as wind swirled around his hands and forearms. Then he exhaled while thrusting his fists ahead, unleashing a focused wall of wind.

The crashing impact resembled the destructive power of a invisible pyroclastic flow or tidal wave. Howling wind struck Hinata's body, burst the nearby wall, and sheathed her in a cloud of debris.

Natsumi and the enemy kunoichi, blades in deadlock behind the Leaf kunoichi, sensed or felt the gale of wind as it initially gathered, eyes flicking away from one another briefly, simultaneously, at what they were certain was a bomb exploding. Instead they saw the incoming wind.

Together, simultaneously, they scattered away from one another, blades swiping at flesh as they did, to no avail. Then the wall of wind plowed over the balcony, splintering wood, before crashing against the big picture windows on the far side of the room. The glass exploded.

The rush of wind dispersed the debris cloud covering the Leaf kunoichi's position immediately. The Titan's expression, once arrogant, twisted into surprise; an expensive frame and landscape portrait of a far off Land peeled and disintegrated apart beneath his wind, clattering along the carpeted floor.

"A Substitutio— gah!"

Hinata struck a sharp kick to the back of his knee, interrupting the Titan. He collapsed unevenly to the same knee. Vulnerable. Open for attack. Hinata, positioned behind the enemy shinobi, was already whipping around on one leg, opposite heel whistling as she aimed for his temple.

Leg and forearm met, the collision of flesh and bone reverberating through their skeletal structures, along the floor, and up the walls.

Swiftly, Hinata retracted her leg. The Titan matched her speed, swinging his arm blindly for her, but with his thick arms, reach and his power, he didn't need precision. He only needed to hit her, knock off her balance, and then he'd regain control. She wouldn't let him.

Hinata leapt in a retreat, spinning a rapid corkscrew over the limb. She lifted her head back, watching his arm pass mere inches beneath her jaw.

Her hands were already moving as she landed. The Titan closed the distance in two mighty strides, attacking with a heavy but quick front right kick.

Utilizing palm and elbow, Hinata blocked the leg aside to her left and struck simultaneously at his knee. Then, with movements as quick as a striking cat, she struck the inside of his left knee with a quick, short low kick, drew both palms in, channeling chakra to them as he grimaced, and struck both to his abdomen with all of her strength.

The Titan stumbled back, out of immediate striking range. His Chakra Network remained unaffected by her strikes.

It's just as Amaririsu said, Hinata thought.

"Their Chakra Armor has a powerful advantage over your Gentle Fist, Hinata. And potentially your Adamantine Chains, Natsumi," she recalled her comrade's voice.

"I don't recall telling you the name of that technique."

Amari smiled faintly. "Maybe I'm a step ahead of you."

"Maybe."

"Anyway, the shield that protects them from ninjutsu has a chakra nullifying effect. When Kōri grabbed ahold of me, and when Dotō managed to pin me beneath his boot, I lost all access to my chakra.

"I couldn't draw upon it whatsoever until I was no longer in their grasps. It's very possible any attempt to attack their Chakra Network directly with the Gentle Fist won't actually work. The shield may disperse your attacks, it may even reflect your Adamantine Chains, Natsumi. Although given the concentration of chakra the technique requires, it may also be able to shatter it.

"Either way, if you can take their shields down, or destroy their armor, then nothing will protect them."

Growling, the Titan launched in again, smashing the floor where she once stood. Hinata spun elegantly along the carpet as she exited her side hop. The air pulsed. Wind roaring like a train barreled towards her. She immediately jumped again, leaping backwards and high into the air, clearing the railing of the staircase and settling gently, soundlessly, onto the first landing of the royal staircase.

Wind ruptured the wall below in another monstrous explosion. It whipped Hinata's hair about and fluttered her shorts and sweater.

The Titan, with a powerful leap, vaulted over the railing, and their fight pressed on. He advanced brutishly, with aggression and irritation, and raw power in every strike. She retreated and maintained a staunch, calm defense as she climbed backwards up the stairs.

She ascended two to three steps at a time with small hops to escape the range of his attacks, ducking beneath strikes, and countering with palms, fists, and kicks that she hoped were whittling away at his strength. It was difficult to tell. He was built quite sturdily, and he didn't appear to be waning.

Below, the shrill cries of metal against metal approached. Finally Natsumi and the enemy kunoichi emerged from the adjoining hall in the midst of fierce red sparks. The small woman was quick, dashing to and fro, appearing as nothing more than a blur flickering into and out of existence to the naked eye.

Natsumi's keen senses and training kept the woman's blade from biting flesh. The only blood drawn on her was self-inflicted, a deep bite into her bottom lip dripping a crimson trail down her chin and neck.

Genjutsu. Like the Titan's Wind Nature chakra, the Chakra Armor was enhancing her techniques as well.

Over the piercing clangs of their battling blades thrummed the chaotic din of screams and ninjutsu beneath the seething battle and pulsing hearts, the chaos filtering in through the shattered big picture windows in the next room.

Although Hinata's attention was honed in on the Titan, in the fringes of her Byakugan vision she could see Kakashi singlehandedly assaulting the large force of royal guards; the veteran Leaf shinobi, the Copy Ninja, the man renowned for copying over a thousand jutsus, was revealing to all those observing why Kakashi of the Sharingan was a name known across the shinobi world.

Outnumbered, he flickered about disabling the royal guard with Water, Earth, and Lightning ninjutsu, he left them horrified or asleep with genjutsu, and assaulted them with taijutsu. He disarmed them of spears, swords, and shields, turning their weapons against them to deliver non-fatal blows which broke bones or left the men unconscious. He evaded smoothly, so smoothly he could have pulled out a book and appeared totally relaxed had he wanted to.

Yet he didn't. He fought them calmly, and seriously.

She could see Haku and Amari above in the midst of heated combat against the third shinobi. Both their battle and Kakashi's were obscure, though, as though hovering—fighting—in her natural peripheral vision. She couldn't see everything, she couldn't track them or their attacks or their conditions precisely, not without letting her focus wane.

Stepping backwards up onto the next stair, the Titan advanced up a step and swung a wide arcing punch for Hinata. She leaned her head back and struck his arm on its outside, redirecting and guiding the limb wide. He lost his center of balance and smashed his large powerful fist into the nearby wall, cratering it. Dust exploded over them. Sharp shards of debris pelted them both.

His chakra fluctuated. Hinata narrowed her eyes. The Titan turned towards her, drawing his head back. Hinata stepped down and into her enemy, slamming a sharp and quick palm beneath his chin, forcing his head up and back. The Wind Style jutsu poured from his mouth and crashed into the staircase directly above, detonating another cloud of dust and releasing a rain of debris.

The Hyūga leapt up onto the next landing, clearing more than ten stairs with her leap before the rain of stone could harm her. The Titan gave chase, leaping after her and slamming both fists, covered in Wind Nature chakra, into the landing.

Slabs of stone folded into each other. The shockwave of wind nearly crumbled the entire landing. Small stones pelted her, unzipping flesh on her left cheekbone and right earlobe. Yet, with another quick hop, Hinata escaped the epicenter and worst of the damage.

As she landed on the railing of the staircase outside of the range of his attack, the Titan appeared directly on her side, lips already pursed.

The blast of air exploded like a concussive blast, shattering the railing at the point of impact.

The Titan grit his teeth and grunted. A torn up sweater was falling to the ground where she once stood. Far below, Hinata slid backwards along the carpet floor, dressed in her plum shirt, mesh armor, and shorts.

That was too close, she thought as she slid to a stop. From what Amari and Kakashi-sensei said about the Snow shinobi's ninjutsu, it is safe to say he is withholding some of his strength. At least when it comes to his ninjutsu.

The Snow shinobi, according to her comrades, had utilized ninjutsu capable of shifting the nature of glaciers, creating ravines, massive ice pillars, and tornado like dragons, all with minimal effect on their chakra.

The Titan's Wind Style was powerful. In fact it should have been more powerful from what she could see and sense. So why wasn't it?

He could lack the ability or knowledge to utilize the full power of the Chakra Armor, she considered. However, I think he is holding back due to our surroundings.

If he wasn't careful with how he applied his ninjutsu, he could bring the palace down on top of them, and then it would not matter how powerful his Chakra Armor was or the potential rewards awaiting them for killing the opposition. He wouldn't reap the rewards beneath a pile of rubble.

Additionally, at this point it was their palace. They wouldn't want to destroy their symbol of power and prestige.

The Titan leapt from the staircase. He drew his arm over his body and slashed it through the air, and a wall of Wind burst into the palace, rushing for the center of the floor.

Hinata evaded backwards quickly, but raised her arms preemptively. A good thing, too. The gale struck the floor and lashed outwards, striking the Hyūga's whole frame with a large invisible fist.

Air howled in her ears. The velvet carpet shredded like blades of grass beneath a whirling blade at the epicenter of the attack. The chandelier hanging several floors above swayed and rattled.

When the Titan landed the whole floor trembled. Two craters formed beneath his feet. Growling, he charged ahead, drew his fist back and launched another barrage of wind, which she evaded with a quick, diagonal leap.

Another blast of air came. Hinata leapt again, feeling the impact of the gale crash against the wall behind her, followed by the sudden rush of air push against her back, as though trying to push her closer to the Titan.

An explosion reverberated through the room. It ruptured the air and shook her bones. Focused, Hinata spared a quick glance to the source. Natsumi landed out of a leaping retreat, sliding back on her heels away from the smoking crater the enemy kunoichi created with a Paper Bomb.

Her comrade was safe. That was all that mattered. Her eyes snapped to the Titan as he bounded in with two powerful strides, chakra swirling around his right arm, causing his jacket to billow.

Hinata planted her back foot. She eyed the end of his recent stride, and the beginning of his next. She watched his foot come forward, waited for it to plant firmly against the ground, then, without warning, she Body Flickered ahead.

To her enemy's eyes it appeared as though she vanished. His aggressive advance snagged on his moment of hesitation. That was all the opening she needed. She planted her foot on the firm base of his knee and thigh, then sprang up, slamming her knee right beneath his thick and wide jaw.

His teeth crashed together. Momentum carried Hinata up and over his head. She spun through the air and landed in a low crouch behind the Titan, facing his back as he stumbled on his heels.

Now's my chance!

Hinata swept his legs out from beneath him. She spun around quickly, slipping a finger into the ring on the end of her kunai and pulling it free, spinning it one revolution as he fell towards the floor to slap into her palm. Gripping the weapon, she moved in, aiming the weapon for his exposed neck.

Your shield's defense will protect you from ninjutsu, genjutsu, and even projectiles. But it won't protect you from this!

She thrust her kunai for his throat as he fell. Suddenly the Titan, mere inches from the floor, swung his Wind Chakra covered arm downwards.

The concussive blast of Wind exploded outwards. It knocked the air from Hinata's lungs, it crashed against her body, bruising skin and blasted her off her feet. Fine cuts slashed through her shirt, her armor, tearing open flesh along her left shoulder, both ankles, splitting her chin and cutting her right side.

Simultaneously it tossed the Titan in the opposing direction. The kunoichi landed on her feet and slid along the carpet. The Titan crashed on his shoulder, then rolled through onto his hands and feet. Neither immediately moved. They breathed, staring each other down in a brief, quiet lull.

Quiet, but not silent. There was a mild ringing in her ears from the blast of wind, and…

Where was the metallic clang of clashing kunai?

The lack of noise startled Hinata, made her heart jump. Despite the ringing in her ears, despite her wounds stinging like paper cuts, the absence of the piercing cry was unmistakable. But it was not silent. No. Where once blades cried out in battle, now there were cruel jeers and giggles of the enemy kunoichi, and the pain-filled hisses from Natsumi.

The Leaf kunoichi's devoted attention lapsed. She focused her Byakugan on the battle taking place a little more than ten long strides away on her immediate right, and gasped.

Appearing to flicker in and out of existence all around Natsumi, the enemy kunoichi moved with such speed, such agility, she was untraceable to the naked eye.

She was cutting Natsumi to ribbons. Weakening her with bug bits, killing her by way of a thousand cuts.

Already dozens of small cuts were perceptible even without the Byakugan's enhanced vision. Fresh trails of crimson bled from Natsumi's calves, forearms and shoulders, sides, back, face, and, with another pass, her stomach joined it.

Natsumi grimaced, hunching forward only slightly from the pain. She dug a tooth into the open wound on her lip. Flesh split open at her right elbow. A second later Natsumi turned to her right to counter the attack, as the kunoichi unzipped flesh over her left thigh.

"Natsumi!" Hinata cried out, heart pounding with concern.

Somethings not right, she darted off after her comrade. Natsumi's reaction time is completely off. Is it the genjutsu? No, she's not under the influence of a genjutsu. The previous genjutsus didn't have this sort of effect on her, either.

What is it, then? Why can't she track the enemy?

Hinata's mind raced. Then, as she noticed the ribbons of smoke rising from the crater the kunoichi created, she felt her heart jump into her throat upon a realization.

The Paper Bomb! Natsumi only began to lose ground after the Paper Bomb detonated, which must mean it was laced with some manner of poison. Something that is interfering with her senses.

Hinata clenched her jaw. Utilizing a Paper Bomb as a deploying agent for an invisible, odorless poison, it was an ingenious move. So innocuous even a seasoned shinobi would confidently believe they had evaded an attack, only to realize too little too late they were poisoned.

Her heart pounded harshly against her chest. This was bad. There was no way for her to know the full effects of the poison in the heat of combat, nor was her knowledge vast enough to guess. It could be fatal. It could only dull the five senses. It could slowly draw Natsumi into a hallucination. So many possibilities. Too many. And she was ill-equipped for the worst scenarios.

I have to separate them. If I can just get Natsumi some breathing room, I can—

The impact of wind reverberated through the walls. Hinata's eyes went wide as the Titan, propelled by his own Wind Chakra, torpedoed across the room, landing in front of her before she could finish a sharp inhale.

He pivoted and swung his long, powerful arm across his body. Hinata narrowly evaded the attack, retreating, reeling, unevenly on her toes.

The Titan, sensing his opening perhaps, advanced, throwing heavy punches she parried away and blocked to the best of her ability, unable to properly counter; his exceptional reach kept her out of range of attack, his aggressive, brutish advance unsettled her balance, stripped away the acute control she once held over the battle.

The enemy kunoichi zipped past Natsumi two more times, slashing her blade along the Mist kunoichi's bicep and then another along the back of her leg, just above the back of her knee. Natsumi hissed as she collapsed to a knee.

At the same time, Hinata attempted to block another of the Titan's quick and heavy punches. The weight and force behind the limb crashed through her defense, stumbling her. He stabilized his base, spread his arms wide.

She saw and felt the sudden surge of chakra from the Titan, flaring like a wildfire incensed by a gale of wind. Her eyes went wide. Out of instinct, with chakra emanating from her palms, she began to arc and cut her hands through the air. But deep in her core she knew her defensive motions were too slow. Too late.

He clapped his palms together. There was no escape.

The explosion of wind which followed resembled the crash of thunder, an earth-shaking volcanic eruption, the explosion of hundreds of Paper Bombs, and the bellowing, eardrum splitting howl of a mythological werewolf.

Picture frames were thrown from the walls, sconces shattered, and the chandelier high above whipped about, rattling, nearly snapping loose as the wind swept through the chamber.

From the epicenter of the attack, a small blur rocketed away from the Titan, striking the opposing wall and cratering it. Hinata crashed limply onto her chest. And did not rise.

Darkness.

There was nothing else.

Nothing at all.

Then a piercing whine shattered the nothingness. An elevated lub-dup, lub-dup, lud-dup pulsed beneath it.

Drawn by the curious noise, she slowly became aware of herself. Her existence and the noises which were attached to it. There was nothing except the whine, high-pitched and ringing. She intimately felt the high tempo lub-dub, lub-dup, lub-dup, the sensation of the pulsing organ drawing her farther away from the previous nothingness.

I…

Yes, that was right. She was an I. A person. A being with a name.

Hinata Hyūga.

Deeper awareness came with a heaviness. A weight, an anchor, a shell which was damaged. Hurt.

I'm…still alive… I…

Hinata squeezed her shut eyes.

Everything hurt. Incessant ringing filled her ears, her head was spinning and buzzing. She was sinking in a saturated mud. Being swallowed whole by it. The globs of dirt weighed her down in leaden chains, dragging her deeper. Deeper. Closer to the darkness again. To the nothingness absent of the weight, of all the pain this shell—her body and being—had gathered through the years. She could scarcely breathe.

I…have to…

Her fingers twitched. They curled into her palm. Her back muscles and legs trembled—in strain and in agony. Squeezing her shut eyes tighter, she felt a bead of warm sweat or blood trickle down her forehead.

I have to…fight. So move…

Hinata creaked her eyes open. Everything was blurry. Shaking. Unfocused. The color of the velvet red carpet was no longer painted in inverted black and white. She could't hear anything except the incessant, high-pitched ringing. It nearly drowned out her thoughts.

Move, Hinata. You have to…move.

With all the strength she could muster from muscles as weak as wet silk, from a body with the strength of rotted wood, she pushed through her hands, knees, and toes to rise. To stand again.

This is still…my fight. Amaririsu, Haku, Natsumi, Kakashi-sensei, King Michiru, Captain Korega, Hoshino, and Hikaru… They're all counting on me to stand by my word. To stand by my ninja way. They're counting on me to stand shoulder to shoulder with my comrades.

Even Father… He has placed his faith in me on this mission. For the first time in my life…he's counting on me. Trusting in me to see this mission through.

She grit her teeth.

I have to…stand tall, proud, and powerful, she thought, fighting to rise again through quaking limbs. I have to prove why the Hyūga Clan is the strongest in the Leaf. I can't…afford to be weak. Not now.

I don't want to be seen as weak anymore. So I won't…

Hinata's whole body trembled. She felt a grunt and whimper inside her throat, but could not hear it. She felt herself sucking in air greedily, felt her chest heaving for it, but could not hear the desperation behind it.

Blue tresses framed and darkened her blurry view of the carpet, fading in and out of focus as her body wavered. A trickle of red dripped off the tip of her nose.

She couldn't quite feel everything yet, at least nothing beyond knowing every inch of her hurt, but she was moving. Struggling at it, but if she could move then she wasn't dead. And if she wasn't dead then she could fight.

I won't…

On her hands and knees now, Hinata braced her left hand against the carpet, planted her right foot against the floor and lifted her head. Everything started to spin rapidly. She wobbled, vision darkening, feeling herself lean left until…

Hinata jolted awake. Caught herself. Awake. She had to…stay awake. Focus. Focus and breathe.

Blinking, trying to clear her vision, Hinata took in the battlefield. Natsumi was where she last recalled. However, now she had her arms outstretched, encasing herself in a violet orb—a Barrier Ninjutsu. Blood trickled down her face, her arms, legs, neck, and beneath her clothes. Her hair, once held in a bun, draped down her back. She looked horrible.

The Titan was battering the Barrier with Wind Style, she could tell by his punching motions and the draft of wind brushing against her. The enemy kunoichi watched on, twirling a kunai with a satisfied grin, all but skipping as she paced behind her comrade. Eager for her chance to continue.

I won't…

Hinata pushed through her right foot. The force was too much. She made it onto her feet, and stumbled backwards, crashing into the wall. What little air she had ejected from her lungs. But she did not fall down. She pressed through her feet and legs to brace against the wall, arms hanging limply at her sides, blood dripping off her fingertips.

I won't fall behind. I can…still fight. Pressing a trembling hand to her side, she began to channel Medical Ninjutsu into herself. I'm…not the same as I was. Ever since that day…

In the daze she felt her mind slip from reality, back to that day. The day they gave her the strength to stand up against fear and doubt.

"Shut up, you arrogant jackass!" The powerful emotion behind that shout startled her. Her eyes snapped up to the balcony, where Amari was staring directly at her. "Hinata! Stop standing there and kick his ass! You've trained so hard and become so strong! Don't throw it all away because of this bastard!"

Neji, her cousin, her own flesh and blood who had come to hate her so, turned his head just enough to glance back at Amaririsu. His lips were pulled in a disdainful scowl. Amaririsu pointed down at him.

"You have no right to treat her that way! How about I come down there and bury you up to your neck in cement, then we'll see who the failure is!"

"You insolent—"

"Who gave you the right to tell her who she can and can't be?!" She felt her heart jump at Naruto's impassioned voice. "Go on Hinata! Show this idiot he's wrong!"

Hinata looked at them with the eyes of a startled deer. Frozen in place, she felt gooseflesh prick up on her skin, her heart began to race as warmth—their warmth—flushed across her skin.

Naruto, Amaririsu, you…

"Stop listening to people like him and believe in yourself! You can do this! I know you can!" Amari yelled.

"Stand up for yourself and fight, Hinata! Amari and I believe in you, Kurenai-sensei believes in you, Shino too! Don't just stand there and take his crap! Show him how wrong he is!"

The memory shuddered away as a piece of debris from the crater came loose and thumped beside her foot. The noise drew the attention of the enemy kunoichi, who paused at the end of a skip and glanced over.

Upon seeing her braced against the wall, Medical Ninjutsu glowing from her hand, the enemy kunoichi's expression twisted into mixture of bewilderment, frustration, and horror.

A kunai whistled through the air. Hinata shifted her head to the left, and with it her body followed, sliding limply a few inches along the wall. The blade pierced the wall beside her cheek, to no effect. The enemy kunoichi growled and equipped another kunai.

It was because of them that day that I found the courage to fight Neji. It was because of them I was finally able to…start liking myself. And ever since I've been trying my hardest to catch up. I've been trying to walk beside them.

Hinata, eyes shadowed by her hair, stepped forward off the wall. She could hear her heavy breaths even clearer now. The Medical Ninjutsu had unwound many of the worst knots of pain, but it wouldn't fix everything. That was okay. She just needed to be able to stand and fight.

Another whistle. Hinata pivoted and stumbled a single step back, a blade narrowly zipping by her chest. Then she collapsed to her knees. Two more passed overhead. Dizzy, the Hyūga's head and body dipped forward, nearly falling over.

We're all trying to walk beside them, each in our own ways, I think. Our comrades in the Leaf, and even our comrades from other Villages, like Natsumi and Haku. Even our teachers.

Amaririsu and Naruto, their hard work makes us feel like we have to try harder, they inspire us to be better. The best that we can be. That's why I won't stop.

Shurikens hissed through the air. Pushing onto her feet, she pivoted and stumbled to the right without any hint of balance for three long steps, a shuriken ripping past her left shoulder and cutting her already torn sleeve, but little else. She collapsed to her right knee, but immediately pushed back onto her feet and staggered forward, breathing heavily, unknotting aches as she went.

I'll keep getting up no matter how many times I'm knocked down. I'll keep fighting until I'm strong enough to walk beside you both.

The enemy kunoichi was flushed red, enraged by her unsteady, almost drunken, evasions.

Suddenly she turned on her comrade, who hadn't relented in pounding the Barrier Ninjutsu.

"I thought you said she was finished, Kongō!" the enemy kunoichi yelled, pointing her way.

Finished? No. Not yet. She wasn't finished yet. Had he been any closer when he attacked, had she not made even a meager attempt at erecting a defense… But no, she wasn't finished. She still had some fight left. She still had something to prove.

The Titan, Kongō, paused his assault. When he saw her staggering forward, one uneven step at a time, his confident expression faltered. The same string of emotions his comrade felt played out on his large face. How, he clearly wondered. How was she still standing?

Inside the barrier Natsumi was panting. Sweat dripped from her face, soaked into her clothes and mingled with all the blood. Maintaining the barrier was taking everything she had yet she eyed Hinata with concern.

"What…are you doing? They thought…you were dead," Natsumi chastised.

She was happy to disappoint them.

Hinata lowered her palm from her abdomen, the green hue fading. She paused and shifted her feet into the Gentle Fist stance. When she raised her head the Byakugan was activated once more. Blood dripped down the bridge of her nose and over her right eyelid down her pale cheek.

"I…am far from finished," she declared. "Had I stayed down…I would have abandoned you to fight them alone." She shook her head. "And that is something I cannot do. I made a promise. 'You will have to go through me before you can reach either of them.' "

Her legs were still weak, constructed of rotted wood or jelly. Her whole body was still trembling.

Even so…

"I will not allow them to reach Hikaru. I will not allow them to hurt my comrades or my friends. No matter how many times I'm knocked down, I'll keep standing up. I'll never go back on my word, I'll never give up, and I will reach out to everyone I can; that, too, is my nindo—my ninja way.

"So," she directed her attention to the enemy shinobi, "if you still plan on fulfilling your mission, you must first come through me."

Natsumi, a strong Sensory Type like you should be able to sense my feelings. You should be able to sense my Will, as I can sense yours.

Kongō walked away from the Barrier, leering sadistically.

"Go through you, huh? Fine by me. This won't take much. Look at you, you can barely stan—"

Hinata didn't let him finish.

Kunais whistled on the air. Paper bombs detonated and roared through the room. When the smoke cleared, Kongō stood unharmed. He chuckled once and made a show of brushing off his jacket. His teammate, who she had aimed another pair of kunais at, was now on all-fours connected to the wall near the entry to the room they had entered.

Distance. She just had to create some distance for Natsumi and buy her time.

I won't run away. I won't lay down while you are in danger. I won't leave you behind, she thought, pouring her whole heart and soul into those feelings. Willing her chakra to reach out to Natsumi. I will fight with you to the very end. Whatever end that may be. Wherever our path leads us. That is what comrades do. That is what friends do.

So, please, stand with me. Let us show these shinobi the strength of the Leaf and the Mist!

At that moment a strange sensation overcame Hinata, as though separating from her body to float above it. Time itself seemed to grind to a halt. She felt as though she was comprised only of chakra, without physical form. Without the heavy shell which ached and trembled. But she was not alone. Natsumi's essence was there, too. She felt it thrum and resonate in synch with her feelings.

Natsumi…

Floating, she tried to reach out to her. Instead she felt as though she glided as a stream of energy across the room, met halfway by Natsumi's essence, which had glided nearly in synch with her.

She felt their chakras, their essences, entangle, their feelings of determination, passion, and trust resonating together. On that bizarre plane beyond time Hinata felt the kunoichi's gentle hands in hers. She felt them rest palm to palm. Natsumi's fingers intertwined with hers, sending a soothing warmth pulsing through the Leaf kunoichi's body.

I'm with you, Natsumi's essence resonated with that feeling. And more.

Then the sensation faded.

Hinata was suddenly back in her body, aching and weak. Yet warm and thrumming with something she did not grasp in the moment.

Inside the violet orb, Natsumi shut her eyes, exhaled a soft chuckle and smiled.

"All right, scrubs," the Mizukage's assistant said, lowering her arms. The orb vanished. "We've taken your best shot. Let's see if you can survive ours."

With his back turned, Kongō didn't see the three golden chains emerge from Natsumi's back, didn't feel the swell of chakra that caused her crimson tresses to undulate; she'd been gathering a concentrated amount of chakra inside the orb, intending to unleash a one-woman assault on the two shinobi. Now she didn't have to.

Because she wasn't alone in this fight.

The enemy kunoichi only saw the chains as they lurched forward.

"Kongō, look out!"

He only heard the rattle of the chains as they neared. He whirled around and his eyes went wide as the golden hued blades zeroed in on him. He pivoted to evade the first, but the blade crossed so closely a sharp buzzing, like a buzzsaw, roared through the room as the chakra blade ground against the Chakra Armor's shield.

Off balance, and pursued by the second blade, Kongō leapt back and away from Natsumi. The buzzsaw roared again, then a sharp burst pierced the air.

The shield, his ultimate defense, was broken.

Stumbling back, there was no chance for Kongō to evade the third blade, lurching in from a high angle.

It tore through his armor at a downward diagonal, splitting it apart and shattering the power crystal as it passed over; it was as it neared his thigh that the Titan managed to evade and leap away again.

As he landed, the chains retracted.

"Lock on."

Kongō let out an involuntary gasp, turning his head to see Hinata now directly behind him.

Your Chakra Network is exposed now. You're in my range.

Hinata's gaze sharpened. Her heart calmed. Her arms and legs, though heavy and aching, ceased to tremble.

And I won't hold back!

Two palms swept through the air without touching the Titan, trailed by streams of sharpened chakra. Fabric, armor, and flesh tore apart beneath the swift cuts as though cut by a katana. As her enemy arced his back at the sudden ripping agony, she struck a quick, hard palm to the center of his spine.

The Titan gasped, stumbled two steps forward, and attempted to call upon his Wind Chakra once more. Hinata was already exiting an advancing spin; she whirled around from his back to his front, spinning with the elegance and agility of a dancer, flecks of blood whipping off her hands. She slashed two more palms through the air, followed by a third direct strike to her enemy's breastbone.

The chakra severed straight through the Chakra Armor at the shoulders, causing the chest plate to fall and crash dully against the floor as the Titan stumbled back again, eyes wide, sweat beading on his brow, and his hand clutching at his chest.

It was tight, doubtlessly. Squeezing with pain now that she'd struck the chakra points entwined with his heart. She knew the pain all too well.

Running on pure adrenaline and willpower, Hinata sprang over the chest plate with renewed vigor and strength at the sight of his weakness. This was it. This was her chance to end this fight once and for all. She couldn't give him a single opportunity to recover.

She heard the sudden sharp cry of metal on metal. In her peripherals she saw two kunais, one curved and the other straight, spinning uselessly in the air halfway between her and the enemy kunoichi. The straight kunai had a Paper Bomb attached to it.

Natsumi, your reflexes…

A sudden explosion ruptured the chamber.

They've returned. Or they're in the process of returning. She focused back on the Titan. I'll leave her to you, then. And you can trust me to defeat him.

Hinata landed in front of her enemy, palms already in their next motion.

In order to overcome my weakness, I have given my training everything I have. I may not be the heiress of my Clan any longer. I may not know how to use techniques like the Eight Trigrams Palm Rotation yet, but that is okay. I do not need to. Because I've created my own Ultimate Technique, an Ultimate Defense with offensive capabilities!

Protective Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms!

With thin streams of chakra being emitted continuously from her palms, Hinata began to cut and slice her hands in agile and flexible patterns quicker than before. Quicker, faster, sharper until her hands were a blur to the naked eye.

Fabric shredded. Flesh split apart. Flecks of blood splashed through the air as Kongō was buffeted by the arcing blades of chakra. The Titan screamed.

I'm done giving up. I'm done running away. I'm going to keep pushing forward. This time…

Shellshocked, Kongō collapsed to a knee, his clothes stained in blood and barely hanging onto his torn flesh. His face was bleeding and barely recognizable. Hinata drew her palm back, inhaled a calm breath.

This time I'll walk beside my comrades!

For the final time she slammed her palm into his chest with all of her might. Kongō shot off his feet and slammed back first against the floor three meters from her feet. He hacked and wheezed for a moment or two.

Then he fell still.

His chakra faded.

At the same time, with only enough time to blink after the two kunais collided and the poison Paper Bomb exploded, Natsumi flickered wildly across the battlefield, mirroring the form of hellish demon unleashed after millenniums of imprisonment, slamming feet first and drilling her Adamantine Chains against the enemy kunoichi's previous position on the wall.

The small woman only just landed on the carpet when an Adamantine Chain sped out of the cloud of dust and debris, sawing past her shield and plunging into the ground behind her.

Natsumi flickered through the debris and dust she created, and to the enemy kunoichi's eyes she was shrouded in the visage of a wild, grinning Oni, causing her to suck in a sharp breath and recoil, nearly freezing on the spot.

In an instant Natsumi was upon the kunoichi, as though reeled in by the first chain. Her enemy barely evaded the second chain, but another sudden burst ruptured the air.

Her shield was broken.

As the enemy kunoichi landed out of her evasion, three new chains suddenly exploded out of the floor, split from the first chain to bury into it moments before. All three slashed through flesh, one destroyed the crystal of the armor, and then they wrapped around and bound the enemy kunoichi in place.

"Uh-oh," Natsumi purred sadistically, leaning forward in a predatory stance, her hair and two free chains undulating like serpents. "Looky what I caught? A little goblin who likes to poison her prey and watch them suffer. Looks like your poison has finally worn off. How so very unfortunate for you."

The chains constricted tighter around the woman. She writhed, expression afflicted by terror. She couldn't feel her chakra. She couldn't break free. And the chains were beginning to crush her. Bones were beginning to crack.

"Should've picked something that did more than slow down my reaction times. Something deadly. I've got good news, though."

The undulating chains stiffened.

"You won't live to regret it much longer."

The chains lurched forward.

The enemy kunoichi's wail of terror echoed up the walls even as she went silent.

As the two enemy shinobis bodies crashed or fell still on the floor, their wigs fell off, revealing brown hair shaved in buzz cuts.

Hinata wobbled for a moment, then collapsed to a knee. Natsumi followed, chains retracting and hair falling.

Breathing heavily, the Leaf kunoichi tried to stand again. Her body refused to budge.

Come on. Move. My duty…isn't finished yet.

Without shame, weakly, she lowered onto both knees and planted her hands on the floor. Then, with immense effort, she began to crawl towards her comrade like a toddler that had yet to learn to walk.

As the sole medic-nin, I have a duty to take care of everyone. So until my duty is fulfilled, I won't stop. Even if I have to crawl, I'll do it. Even if my body fails me I'll drag it forward. I won't…stop. Not while I'm still needed.

Perspiration dripped off her flushed face. She panted, slowly moving ahead despite her trembling legs and hands wanting to give out.

Finally, she arrived at Natsumi's side. Resting back on her heels, out of breath, she lifted her hands, dripping beads of crimson. Before she could do anything Natsumi's hand, also wet with blood, pressed against her right palm, fingers slipping between Hinata's and curling into her hand.

Natsumi grinned a cheeky and charming grin.

"Stubborn little gremlin, aren't you?"

Hinata smiled and curled her fingers close, holding the Mist kunoichi's hand.

"I am guilty as charged."

"Heh. Good."