(Edited: 07/22/2021)
(Edited: 08/21/2020)
A/N: Sorry for any errors
"As we rest here alone like notes on a page
The finest to compose could not play our pain
With a candle through time I could still see your ghost
But I can't close my eyes, for it
For it is there where you haunt me most"
(Motionless In White: Another Life)
Chapter 8: Falling Apart:
If there was one thing Namikaze Minato prided himself on, it would be his ability to maintain his composure in even the most stressful and hopeless of situations.
How many times had he been on the battlefield, cutting the enemy down like trees without nary an expression? Was there even a number in his mind of the amount of his friends he watched be cut down similarly, or a number to those he felt die in his arms?
All of those times he kept a level head.
Through tears and immense sadness—even as enemies taunted him with cruel words and harsh realities. He remained indifferent as they gave him all of the information needed to complete his mission.
Straight faced all the way to when the battle would reach its apex and he would disappear in a flash of yellow: only to reappear behind them, kunai slicing though the tender skin of their necks.
He was a shinobi—a damned good one. His name alone instilled fear through armies. They called him Konoha's Yellow flash: a moniker he murdered hundreds—thousands for.
Yes. He was the best of the best.
Cunning, strong and intelligent—a prodigious genius amongst his peers. So why—why was it that a simple report from his students had his well-maintained image shatter into a million pieces?
In his mind, he could visualize every single bruise that blossomed on his daughters' skin. Various shades of blue, purple and yellow tainting her pale skin. He saw the brave smile she put on for him before it crumbled into a cringe as he lathed healing ointment on her scraped hands.
How her eyes, once wide with wonder at the world around her, shifted in crowds. Searching the throngs of people for some hidden enemy.
Something in him snapped. A silent yet resounding break he felt down to his very core. Positive was he that the burning rage he was barely able to control had enough force to take down Mount Myoboku.
He sent his team on a simple mission: watch his precious daughter as she walked to the Uchiha compound on her own for the first time. Minato wasn't blind to the obvious distaste the Uchiha Clan had toward their Heir's friendship with Akira, yet he never imagined a turn of events that would lead her into the unkind hands of pain.
Fugaku promised her safety from his Clan (they were quite an emotional bunch, though their outward behavior would say different). Yet not even that could have protected her.
They had talked about it in detail, him and Fugaku. The Clan Head gave express orders no harm would fall on Minato and Kushina's beloved child.
But children were hard to control (he would know).
Kushina was convinced Minato's well-hidden paranoia was rearing its ugly head the morning he informed her of his decision. She said as much as she tried arguing against it.
Akira craved independence. Already she was going to great lengths to grow up too fast, and it bothered him.
It was no secret the day they almost lost Akira haunted him. Even now, the gut retching sound of the heart monitor flat lining was just barely out of reach. Tickling at the tip of his senses.
He heard it in his sleep when the nightmares of the war and missions gone wrong woke him at night. It wrung through him while walking through the forest, or even while standing next to Akira herself.
It was a banshee, sitting on his shoulders as he sat dutifully at her bedside as she slept; hand on her chest to feel her beating heart.
There was no denying it stung how even behind the very walls that were meant to keep his village, his family, safe, she so clearly wasn't.
His mind was alight with 'If's'. What would have happened had one of those rouge ninja escaped and word got around that the Yellow Flash had a daughter?
Or worse: that she was a descendant from the main branch of the Uzumaki Clan?
The thought alone chilled him to the bone.
An abrupt sneeze brought Minato back to his body. Blue eyes refocused back to the present. In front of him, the uncomfortable forms of his students greeted him.
All three looked ashamed—at least two did. Kakashi looked outright frustrated; arms crossed and brows furrowed so deep a wrinkle was present between them.
Minato realized he needed to focus on the now, not the millions of horrible possibilities that could destroy his beloved family. There was a lesson to be taught, and he was their teacher.
The fact was—no matter how much he tried to reject the possibility—his team had failed. Not just the mission, but him, too.
A secret part of Minato wanted to laugh.
Failure. It was a concept the blonde man held very little experience. Yes, he had failed as a father to protect one of his most precious people, his own flesh and blood, but as a ninja—a teacher—this was different territory. He never failed as a sensei before.
And he loathed the feelings that came with it.
The anger came back, but before he could fully unleash it upon his students, Kakashi raised his hand. Minato's mind blanked, before clambering back together.
These were children, even if they were ninja. They didn't deserve to be treated like the enemy… But he didn't have to be particularly kind, either.
"Yes, Kakashi?" the bite in his voice made all three flinch.
Said silverette cleared his throat before standing completely at attention, ever the perfect ninja. "I'd like to bring to attention that this mishap was entirely Obito's fault."
"Hey!"
Kakashi continued, ignoring the Uchiha's sounds of resentment. "If we had stayed on the course of the mission instead of pausing to help an old lady cross the street, we wouldn't have lost the Br—I mean Akira—in the first place."
"As if I'm the only one to blame you bastard! If you—"
"Enough!" the two boys stiffened at the commanding tone their sensei's voice took, one he only used in the field. "When a mission is failed, it falls upon the entire team, not individuals." Minato's eyes cut to Obito as he went on relentlessly, "Your inability to fight your need to help others jeopardized the mission, and later you let your emotions get the better of you. If this were the frontlines, your recklessness would have put the entire team in eminent danger."
Obito clenched his fists, "But-"
The Yellow Flash went on, ignoring him to look to their only female teammate. "Rin. Trying to diffuse an already out of control situation is unacceptable. You're a ninja, and while I don't condone useless violence, your passive stance caused the person you were hired to protect to get hurt and allowed the attackers to go unpunished.
"And you…" he turned to his final student, disappointment in his eyes "Taking to the sidelines and refusing to intervene is just as bad as doing the act yourself. As the teammate with the most experience of the three of you, I expected much more.
When your teammates lose focus of the objective, in the field you're trained to act. Not stand by and watch your fellow comrades make complete fools of themselves. You may try to shift accusations toward the others, but you have failed just as much as them."
Kakashi let out of noise of annoyance, turning his head away from his sensei and teammates.
Rin looked close to tears. "I… I'm sorry Minato-sensei…"
Relentless blue eyes narrowed dangerously. "Oh, you will be." Minato turned his back to his students, not missing how they flinched in unison. "Survival training for a week in the Forest of Death. The war is becoming too much of an issue to be away any longer, but while we are still in the village, you three will be restricted to D-ranks until Lord Third has given our next mission."
The blonde turned back to his students, shoulders slumped, expression sad and pained. "I'm doing this for your own good. Right now, I'm just too disappointed to even give you Hell-Training. You have twenty minutes to pack. You're dismissed."
"Reach into your chakra core. Move the chakra from there throughout your body like water, leaving pieces of it at every tenketsu point you pass."
Akira listened to her mother's soft yet commanding voice as if it were a goddess speaking gospel to her soul. Her chakra was too difficult to manipulate as her mother instructed. It wasn't as liquid as she claimed her own to be.
It was evasive and erratic. Flowing its own trajectory and life force. A living organism laying just under her skin that wished to break free. To be unleased.
The work was slow and exhausting. Not for the first time Akira thought of how pointless it was.
According to Kushina, not every Uzumaki could access the latent power inside of them. Moreover, even if one could, that didn't mean they could magically use it without cost.
Chakra chains, like many Clan doujutsu, (similar to the Uchiha and Hyuga blood limit) was something every Uzumaki was capable of unlocking. Dormant until the proper training was given and precautions taken.
Most branch Uzumaki could use them once unlocked, but with how different and unique the chains were to each person, it was dangerous and thankless task. Some chains took too much chakra, and while Uzumaki tended to have that in spades; sometimes the strain was just too much.
Being able to access them and use them were two entirely different feats. Many died of exhaustion, especially in battle, for that very reason. In most cases, the extreme will to protect was enough to unleash them.
Few, like her mother, were just naturally gifted.
Uzumaki chakra chains were an extension of their user when unleased, with abilities differing from one person to the next. Kushina's own suppressed chakra; something only a rare few main members had. Notably, Clan Heads.
It was the entire reason she had been chosen to be the next jinjuriki.
Letting out a focusing breath, Akira felt deep within herself, searching for the padlock that would lead to her own. After hours, she finally reached her lower back, where a strange stirring of something made cool zaps of energy go down her spine.
She let out a sharp gasp and explained the sensation it to her mom.
Kushina's face lit up and reached to the place that tingled. "Just like your grandmother! Her chains were mostly combative, though. Able to carve into stone—something that aided in the seals of which surrounded the village—and very dangerous. She could pulverize boulders without much thought… A frightening woman indeed." Her mother jumped at her, engulfing her with a warm hug, "This is so exciting, 'ttebane!"
And with that thought in mind, Akira felt a wave of hope. Hope that maybe, some day, she wouldn't be so defenseless. That with her own chains, she'd be able to protect, instead of be protected.
She just had to get them to materialize.
Her lungs burned like molten lava in her chest as she ran through the streets of Konoha.
All around her there were screams of distress. The air was filled with dust from the chaos, buildings flying in the distance. A faint tang of metal clung on her tongue, but she pushed those senses far back into her mind.
A shout of fear sounded ahead of her and, as if in slow motion, Akira watched in horror as a cluster of houses blew away like dandelions in the wind.
She threw herself into an alley the moment the devastation pulsed outwards. Debris and bodies flew past in a roar of motion and noise that made her ears ring and tears stream down her dirty cheeks.
Akira crouched down and held her hands over her ears, screaming as loud as she could, as if the act itself would make everything go back to normal. Her hair blew around wildly as poles, dirt and pieces her village flew within the walls that kept her safe.
When the world was still once more, she stood on shaking legs and peaked around the bricks. She let out a shout when she caught sight of a person, impaled by a large piece of beaming from a house.
He was still alive. Struggling to move, mouth gaping over in silent screams. 'His lungs must have been punctured,' she thought.
Akira bit her lip as she moved out of her hiding place. Catching the eye of the dying man—a literal eye. The other dangled from an empty socket, jerking around with his tense movements. She made her way toward him.
He was all pleading looks, but she was unsure what he wanted. Was he begging for death? Or maybe life? No one wanted to die. It was human nature to want to live.
When she was but a few scant steps from him, a large slab of concrete fell, slamming into the ground where he once was. There was a sickeningly wet crunch as blood splattered outward, warmth striking across her face in angry red lines.
Akira didn't scream this time. She just stared wide-eyed at the arm peeking out from under the brick, reaching toward her, fingers twitching.
Falling back on her butt she scrambled away as fast as her limbs allowed, turning to the side just in time to empty her stomach of its contents. In her erratic confusion, she inhaled some of the bile and coughed until her head felt light and her eyes stung.
A shadow fell over her for a split second before she was tackled from the side. Her and her attacker rolled for a few feet before hitting against a nearby wall. The ground shook. Her vision swam.
Akira went rigid when a hand clasped onto her shoulder. This time, she did scream, swatting blindly into any flesh she could reach (empty eyes and a wide smile) until her wrists were caught in a vise-like grip.
"HEY!" a firm voice called out, breaking around the edges. Not the voice of a man. It was then Akira realized her eyes were shut tight.
She blinked the crud from her vision and saw red, glowing eyes. A four-pointed pinwheel reminiscent of a shuriken spun wildly. For a suspended moment the blonde was awestruck.
'It can't be.'
"Stop struggling, idiot!" the boy barked.
As if on instinct, her body listened. The silence left between them was tense. Shock registered in her mind. She knew that face.
"Good. Now, get up and follow me. It's too dangerous out here, you need to get to the-" The Uchiha's sentence abruptly cut off when a faraway voice screamed for backup. His head snapped to the side, cocking to the side in order to listen, making his curly black hair sway with the motion.
He turned back to her; expression exhausted. "Shit. I have to go. Head to the nearest Safe Zone and don't stop for anything. Do you hear me?" she nodded affirmation and just as fast as he arrived, Shisui Uchiha disappeared.
His appearance stunned her in more ways than one. In a moment of clarity, Akira stood. Her legs still shook, but she would manage. She let out a shaky breath, wiped the tears from her eyes and looked up to the daunting visage that was Kurama. He was far away, but his size made him easy to spot even from miles away.
When shit hit the fan, Kakashi was called in to help the villagers. Ninja business mattered more than some kid, even if said kid was the daughter of the Hokage, it seemed.
Akira was fine with that, though. He would have never allowed her out of his sights if he knew the thoughts running through her mind.
Much as Shisui had done, Kakashi barked at her to go to her neighborhoods checkpoint where a ninja would be waiting to citizens and children to the safest route to the underground catacombs that lead to bunkers within Konoha's mountain.
Akira, though, had no plans to head toward safety. In fact, now that her mind was cleared of the fog, it didn't even cross her mind to listen.
How could she when there was a Kurama-sized death cloud lurking over her parents?
It was stupid. Reckless. Suicidal, even. But she had to save them. The need to protect the first people she had ever met in this world ran deep into her marrow.
So even though she was petrified, she knew what she had to do.
Akira sat down, legs crossed and meditated in the middle of the madness. She closed her eyes, ignored the possibility of death from her still position and cleared her mind.
Seeking. Searching.
Soon, she was sitting in front of a familiar red orb of flames. The chakra that gave her life. Her connection to Them. A meditative state settled over her, one that felt right. Red thread erupted from the core of her chakra.
She reached toward a collection of stings that spread from her chest.
'I need to know…' she begged in her mind.
Her body shuddered as her fingertips brushed against the thin pieces of chakra. One thought echoed through her mind. A question. A silent plea.
'Where?'
Her question was answered in billions of whispering voices.
The earth, even if it had yet to occur, remembered everything. Concepts like time did not exist in the very soil of the earth. It was an old Sage that knew all that was, all that could and all that would happen.
One string wrapped around her hand and tugged. Not wasting any time, violet eyes snapped open back to reality and jumped into action.
The strings in her mind were a guide as the Earth directed her on where to go. It came in fragmented pieces. A nudge here, a push there. Some were barely distinguishable in the calamity that fell around her, but her connection to the strings kept her in line.
It led her to a ruined piece of the great wall surrounding the village. The area was just large enough for her to squeeze through. The whispers took her on a journey of endless trees that became a maze.
They all looked the same in her eyes.
There was no telling how far she ran, but just when her legs were about to give, she entered a clearing. The strings dispersed into a million twinkling lights that resembled red fireflies that sank back into the ground.
'Thank you.' she thought as the last spark disappeared.
The longer Akira stood alone; specks of doubt crawled up her throat. What if she was wrong? What if this wasn't the place she needed to be?
Her answer came in the form of chakra so thick, so malicious and so close that she fell to her knees, body shaking in fear. The clouds that accompanied many jutsu choked her.
She was both hot and cold. Hot and Cold. Hot and cold. HOT AND COLD- the fog lifted.
Idly Akira noted the sodden warmth between her legs. Half mortified, she realized she had pissed herself, but the feeling was swept away in the ever-growing horror at the sight of a skyscraper-sized humanoid-fox towering above her like an angry God.
Nine furiously flicking tails uprooted a forest's worth of trees.
When he roared, it was so loud she was sure her ears would bleed. The orange beast—Kurama—eclipsed the night sky. He was anger and death incarnate.
Akira wanted to do many things. Running the fuck away being at the top of that list. But she wouldn't—no. She couldn't. Not with so much on the line.
She fought every warning her body threw at her to run and hide and began crawling, all the while sobbing like a newborn baby. A short distance away, she watched as Minato and Kushina appeared in another poof of smoke.
The sight of them gave her a much-needed push of courage. She got up and stumbled on jelly legs, reaching toward them but too afraid to speak.
As if sensing her gaze, Kushina turned to her. Blood leaked from the corners of her mouth while deep, dark bags stood out stark against her too-pale complexion.
Akira fumbled to them with an outstretched hand, even as her mother let out a wail at the sight of her. "No! Run away!"
Kushina's pleas fell on deaf ears.
As Akira single-mindedly stumbled in their direction, her parents yelled between each themselves before Minato turned her way in alarm. His arm extended to throw a familiar kunai.
Akira hardly had the time to process the fact that a piece of the burning, twisted chakra of Kurama was heading her way.
It came at her, fast and sure as death. Unbearable white-hot painpainpain—oh God WHY?! Seared its way deep across her back.
The scream that exited her was so loud her voice box felt close to rupture and render her mute.
Akira writhed on the ground, unable to think coherently. Even when warm arms wrapped around her and the air was forcefully sucked from her lungs, she was lost in a world of desolate agony.
Sweet oxygen came back and her eyes bulged. There were doubles of doubles.
Akira watched numbly as Kushina's upper back burst in magnificent gold light, awed at how even on deaths door, her mother was downright fierce. A true warrior. The chains shot out, encircling a large perimeter and swung around the Nine-Tails, bringing him to a stop.
The redhead collapsed to her hands out of exhaustion, globs of blood splashing on the ground from her mouth.
"-at are you doing here!?" Minato growled behind her as a pressure pushed at her back, making her cry out again.
Stupid as it sounded, that was the moment Akira realized she was injured. That giant orange bastard attacked her. ('I fuckin called it!' She screamed in her head) And—goddamn donkey balls it HURT.
Kushina was beginning a new wave of tears. "Is she okay? Tell me she will be okay! Minato!?"
"I-I don't know. The cut isn't that deep, but it- it's also burning her." His voice had lost all of its ire, now replaced with panic and confusion.
Akira threw up, the pain too much for her body to handle. It bubbled up her throat and burned her nose.
"Fuck!" –did her father just cuss—"The Kyuubi's chakra is poisoning her." Her father finally spoke, voice distant and strained.
The world tipped when the burning came back tenfold. Her throat was raw from overuse, making her unable to voice her screams, body convulsing. She was gently gathered into Minato's arms. A hand touched her cheek, causing her to look up into tired eyes the color of the sky.
Her favorite eyes.
He spoke, but there was no sound. She watched as his lips moved, and somehow, she knew what was coming.
(If she had a voice, she would've begged him to stay.)
Everything went dark, but not before a scalding pain reached around her insides like a vacuum and pulled.
"I'm so sorry my Wildfire."
.
.
.
"You are where you were meant to be." A baritone voice echoed throughout the endless darkness.
.
.
.
Scolding hot chakra filled her until it threatened to burst her at the seams, invading, penetrating, fusing.
She didn't know where it ended and she began. It was an inferno. It was restless. It was enraged.
It swore and knew nothing but hatred and the desire to slaughter. To kill until there was nothing left but ash. Maybe there was nothing left.
They screamed as one.
.
.
.
"I have given you the means to live, to change the fate of the world and mold it into your own. Now; you must survive."
.
.
.
There was a steady beeping that was all too familiar. It never changed in pace and never stopped.
Which was good. She was afraid what would happen if it were to cease again. After all, there wasn't another child's body for her to take.
.
.
.
"But… what if I don't want to?" she cried out to the void, struggling uselessly.
.
.
.
Akira sat at the edge of a pond, spine straight and trembling. To say she was terrified would be an understatement.
Hot breath from behind her mused her hair and scorched her already scarred and blistered skin, evaporating the sweat that ran down her back. She refused to look into the pond's reflection, afraid of the truth—afraid of what she would see.
Before, in her mind, she was in an empty dark room with her flaming ball of chakra to keep her company. Not anymore.
A whimper escaped her as the water rose from the pond, and with it, its reflective surface. The world of her mind refused to allow her to reject reality. It wouldn't allow her to shove this away like she did with everything else.
The blisters on her back burst, causing a sizzling liquid to ooze down her exposed body. For some reason, she was naked. Stripped of all her walls and left ashamed and vulnerable. Left open like a wound destined to fester and rot.
The rising water did not stop at her will, nor did the oppressive force that breathed agony down her back disappear.
She thought scornfully about how she had asked for this. How she had been so casual to her mother's suffering.
Akira had never been more wrong in her life—had never felt the pull of regret drag her down to drown her so thoroughly.
With great reluctance, she looked up into the mirror-like waters. The color drained from her already pasty face; her body shook like a leaf.
'You asked for this, you asked for this you—'
Behind her, a slit pupil surrounded by an iris the color of freshly spilt blood towered ten times her size. Dark burnt-orange fur that surrounded it stood in stark contrast to the veined whites of a sclera.
Only bars separated them.
"Welcome back to the world of the living you miniature pile of mortal shit. Come closer so I can have the joy of feeling your bones grinding between my teeth!"
.
.
.
There was sadness in his voice as he replied without mercy: "You have no choice."
End
THIS STORY IS ALMOST AT 200 FOLLOWERS. WHAT THE-
Thank all of you for all of your kind reviews! They mean so much to me. Been going through some life changes and dark times, and seeing that there are people that get joy from my crap fics makes me dance around and smile like an idiot. (was actually at work a few times and got strange looks).
Any ideas on where you guys think this story is going or want it to go? I have pretty much everything planned out, but it could always be subject to change ;)
If you would like to know when I update, follow the story (or me). If you liked it, review and favorite!
Until next time (which hopefully isn't going to be months away... again.)
~Siren.