At long, long, long last! NeoShadows has finally returned to update!

Man, was this particular chapter a pain in the ass to complete. I kept finding myself stuck on one particular scene at the beginning of the chapter. This chapter in general was a tough one to redo in general. A lot of the old content was cut out, rewritten, and nearly tossed out altogether.

But, at last, I've gotten it completed! All that was left was to do the usual heavy edits and trimming here and there, and boom! It's hot and fresh out of the skillet!

Well, it was a few days ago. More on that at the end.

Now, get to scrolling already! I know you all must be starving for content, so dig in!


Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either A Certain Magical Index or Naruto. All rights are reserved respectfully to Kazuma Kamachi and Masashi Kishimoto.


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Chapter 11: Dry Your Tears.

Symbols_of_COURAGE.

[-]

Dinner had been incredibly quiet. Not much talking had been made as the hot food had been served. Despite how good it tasted to everyone, the responses had been rather subdued among all those seated at the table. The once bright atmosphere where laughs could be heard, and smiles seen, had been dispersed.

As the last plate had been cleaned off, all the dishes washed, and everyone had left for bed, one person found themselves restless.

Softly as could be, Touma shut the door behind him with a faint click of tumblers locking in. He stepped out to the cool night, head inclined and shoulders heavy as he dropped down onto the wooden floorboards of the porch to take a seat.

Crickets could be heard in the night and small bulbs of light from what he guessed were fireflies wandering about caught his absent gaze as he sat by himself.

Sleep wasn't an easy thing to fall into right now. Not when he couldn't stop thinking about everything he had heard earlier that evening.

Really, how naive had he been back then?

The darkness and despair shrouding Inari was thick.

This was a different kind of misery, one not so easily cracked by a mere idiot's flimsy words.

Touma had tried a few days ago to try and pull that cynical boy out of the pitch-black despair. He had seen a boy drowning in dark waters, lent his hand, and reached to grasp the small hands before they sunk any further. Just as another ordinary man had done years ago, he moved to save him without giving any thought to the victim's splashing.

He assumed the person gasping for breath wanted to be saved.

Instead, small hands had slapped his own with a sting sharper than a blade's graze.

I don't want to be saved.

Rather than grasp the hand reeling him back from the thick sea of despair, he was rejected. Inari rejected a random stranger's help even as he was sinking deeper and deeper into his misery.

Unlike an ordinary person as they drowned, Inari hadn't been calling out for help. He hadn't been crying or begging to be saved. He wasn't even splashing; there was no struggle to swim up for breath.

Talking to Inari felt like speaking to a brick wall. Nothing was budging. Even though Touma knew the young crying child wanted to be saved(he had to!), his attempts weren't doing anything more than bringing the boy to more tears.

Touma grit his teeth, face shadowed by a dark veil underneath the gentle night.

Why...why did this feel like his earlier attempts at breaking through Kamisato? Why were his words failing to reach-

Touma felt his hands clench to the point of popping the joints with an uneasy groan.

Back when he first confronted Momochi Zabuza, fought him to the point of the missing-nin only capable of standing and moving on sheer will and blood lust despite how wrecked his body had become, his words had failed to so much as crack the demon's resolve.

Back when he first confronted Waraji, fought the sadistic one-eyed ronin to the point the man forced his creaking and busted body to fight, his words had failed to stop his self-destructive sadism.

Back in that tiny hell of human-born sin, he had beaten down thug after thug to the point they could only weakly limp with each step and couldn't even speak, his words had failed to drop their weapons.

Just like Inari, he was unable to reach anyone with his words. He couldn't...he couldn't come to an understanding with even a child. All he could use were his fists to resolve everything. Just like always.

And he couldn't stand it. Even if he had saved plenty of people, rescued Boshi's family from harm, and salvaged Otohime in all the mayhem, it still wasn't enough. He couldn't stand that he had still failed to pull others from their misery; he couldn't accept that there were still smiles slipping through his fingers.

Yes, even now, the fact that Kamijou Touma had failed to save someone as despicable and evil as a bastard like Waraji, made his heart scream.

Suddenly, his world felt incredibly distant and far out of reach.

"What...what am I missing? Why can't I even hold a conversation with him?"

Were Kamijou Touma and Inari just that different? Was the darkness enveloping the drowning boy really so deep and bleak?

Words failed him. Empathy failed him. Kindness failed him. Not even his lousy right hand could prove effective in shattering the misery to bits. So, what was left? What else was there for this unlucky high school boy to utilize to save one child and show him that there was hope?

This sense of uselessness and failure was just so bitter.

"Does it really bother you that much? You know, he's not your responsibility, right? So, why are you beating yourself over this so much?"

From what felt like thin air, a certain figure slipped out and stood only an inch from the sulking spiky boy. Being as the current world Touma inhabited was full of supernatural shinobi who could command water to form crushing tides in the form of serpents and ronin who could fire blades of mystical energy, he wasn't too surprised- he did jump up a bit and had to swallow a panicked shout.

Hatake Kakashi, the jonin instructor/leader of the green-horned genin team known as Team-7, glanced down at the miserable-faced teen from the corner of his one good eye. As the expert of the silent arts and being all around an enigma to many for his cool aura and nonchalant attitude, the man had of course used a ninjutsu to disguise himself in plain sight. All it took was rudimentary beginner's genjutsu many of the students in Konohagakure's academy were taught for espionage. To a trained shinobi or kunoichi, it was a cheap technique; easily noticed by those sharp-eyed soldiers. Of course, ordinary citizens would never notice.

Question: why had the Jonin cast a genjutsu to hide himself in the middle of the night?

Certainly, it wasn't because he had left the family home to enjoy one of his favorite Icha-Icha novels without waking his students with his chuckles(read: perverse giggles) and gone outside for privacy, only for his ear to twitch at the sound of someone walking right outside where he was standing, and had put up a genjutsu in a panic to sneak away with his beloved literature(read: por...w-was Icha-Icha porno or just tasteful, in the loosest sense of the word, adult literature?) clutched to his chest.

Curiosity had gotten the better of him though when he noticed it was Kamijou Touma who had stepped out for a breath of fresh air. One look at the shadows haunting his face had stopped him from leaving then and there as he stood by to listen to the boy mutter to himself about his failure.

Kakashi had to stop himself from chuckling. Did the boy even realize he had been openly venting out loud?

"Hatake-san? When did you get here?" the surprise wore off quickly as Touma stared up at the gray-haired shinobi.

"Long enough."

"Long enough for w-"

"To continue questioning why you've continued to stick with us thus far. To wonder why some stranger, some civilian, a boring-faced teen, who can only fight with his fist, hasn't just given up and walked away from a fight he's not involved in."

Being the ever-oblivious and clueless normie he was, Touma continued to stare at the skeptic-eyed veteran ninja like he'd done nothing wrong.

In a way, he hadn't. Not in Kakashi's eyes.

But in his opinion. It wasn't that he'd done anything wrong. No, it was rather that what he'd done, what he'd continue doing, had been strange.

The kindness displayed by the lost foreigner with a bizarre right hand was hard to accept without suspicion. Even now, even after everything thus far, and the good Kamijou Touma had done for mere strangers, the trained and war-hardened shinobi who had gone as far as joining the ranks of Anbu before he was even fifteen, couldn't help but find everything the spiky boy had done as suspicious by nature. Generosity, empathy, friendliness, and all the gentle emotions the spiky boy displayed had been killed in Kakashi's adolescence in order to survive the harsh world.

Kakashi found he could trust the strange teen known as Kamijou Touma.

But he could not understand him or abandon the suspicion that had kept him alive thus far.

Just ahead of them was another battle. A hardened shinobi like Kakashi could feel the strange buzzing in the air. Things had been too peaceful. Gato's men had scarcely been seen. The villagers had begun to grow hopeful even as they continued to sneak glances behind their backs. It had only been a few days since Gato lost one of his bases and the number of men lost in the sudden siege wasn't enough for a sleazy bastard to give up and leave the country.

When the time came to fight again, it wouldn't be a simple fight in the streets. It would be an all-out war.

At this moment, right now, he would give that naive boy the chance-

Which was why Kakashi had to understand the mind of their newest ally. Here and now, he planned to banish whatever wisps of hesitation, wariness, skepticism, and deceit remained to stall the gears in battle.

Touma for his part merely shrugged as he rested his chin on his folded arms leaning on his knees.

"Weren't you the one who asked for my help?"

"And you had every chance to say no, considering your circumstances. To be honest, I didn't believe your claim of being a mere ordinary civilian. Not with your reflexes, endurance, stamina, or willpower. You must have had your reasons for keeping your true rank to yourself, so I let it be. But even though you have my gratitude and trust, I can't help but still be skeptical of your true intentions."

"Do you still think I'm some secret double agent?"

"No, nothing so ridiculous. Not with how casual and stupid you can be."

Was...was that supposed to be a compliment?

"You're not a native of Nami no Kuni. You're not a shinobi; at least, not one I've ever encountered. You're not a mercenary. You're not a rogue nin. You're not a warrior. And for all you claim to be, you're not exactly normal either."

Normally this would be the point Touma would defend himself. He would state he was just your average high school boy you can find anywhere else. That wasn't the case here though, was it? After all, a boring student like Kamijou Touma didn't belong in this world of supernatural ninjas.

Even when Othinus utilized Gungnir to torment him through endless hells, he'd still been able to claim his fond position in the worlds buried beneath his corpses.

So, what did that make him here and now? What was his place in the new world?

"Defeating Gato is not Team-7's objective. Our mission is only to protect Tazuna-san until he completes the construction of his bridge. In other words, our interests are centered solely on the bridge builder's safety before all else. Whether the client is happy, sad, furious, anxious, or even dissatisfied matters little: so long as they're alive and their bridge is complete, the mission is a success. I've specified as much before; haven't I?"

Cold onyx steel met those stormy dark blue lost in their misery.

"We're not heroes seeking justice. We're hired arms, soldiers, paid assassins. We've only involved ourselves in this tragic story because we're paid a certain amount of Ryo to be shields for our client. Whether they're smiling in the end is of little importance. There's no need to be further involved in their lives or their happiness."

Ninjas were not kind. They were not sweet. They were not so easily swayed. They were tools to be directed at whatever their master dictated needed to be destroyed or erased.

A kunai was not interested in saving. It was beaten to be a tool to spill blood for violence.

That was what a ninja was supposed to embody.

A thin line cut across the spiky-haired boy.

"Then why bother with me? Why did you risk your life, the lives of your students, for some battered, bloody, lost stranger who you pegged as a possible threat?"

"You weren't an immediate threat. And if you were truly some hidden agent under Gato's employ, I had very little reason to believe I could snap your neck before your lips peeled back in a snarl."

"That's not an answer. Not one I'll believe after getting to know you and your team this past week."

Kakashi's cold eyes refused to dim or soften.

"You're useful."

An interesting tool had been discovered. A unique and bizarre weapon with the potential to even strike visible fear in the eyes of a blood-soaked demon. One which could prove useful if utilized correctly in the coming fights on the likely hood a demon of the mist rose from his grave for vengeance. To toss it aside would be idiotic.

"At the time, I believed you were a deadly shinobi, possibly a mercenary of some kind, simply caught up in our battle; a measly case of bad luck. Whatever reason you had for lying to us about your origins didn't matter at the time. You weren't a threat to us and you genuinely seemed to care about Tazuna's situation. Against the likes of Momochi Zabuza and Gato's personal army waiting to pounce if we stepped out of line, I needed all the help I could take. But then you proved me wrong."

No discipline. No order. No logic. No sense of timing or patience.

At the first sign of distress, or Gato's rule and law, the teenager rushed in without a plan and swung his fist like a brute. Instead of backing away like he should have, Touma confronted one of Gato's thugs, out in public for all to see, and basically declared war on his entire operation. All by himself. It was a move Kakashi would have expected out of a greenhorn like Naruto.

A move made solely on pure emotions rather than thought.

"Speaking as a professional killer, you're a nuisance. How you survived your battle against Gato's men is all but a mystery. The way you fight is ugly, messy, and disgusting. But you got the job done; you saved several villagers, beat down plenty of Gato's men, and brought down one of his bases in a matter of hours. Though everything about you goes against the shinobi way, you've proven yourself capable and useful to our cause. Results can't be ignored, so, why not?"

You're troublesome, but you did good. For all your faults, you're useful.

That was why Hatake Kakashi continued to keep Kamijou Touma in the party.

"Truthfully, even if I forbid you from joining in combating Momochi Zabuza, it's not like I can kick you out of Tazuna's own home at this point. Nor could I keep you from simply seeking out trouble against his men as they cause trouble. You've already made yourself pretty involved in their lives and the lives of the village. Which is what I still don't comprehend."

The core of whatever remained of Kakashi's suspicion and doubts about the spiky teen were rooted here:

"Why are you risking your life for the lives of people who have nothing to do with you? Don't you wish to return home in one piece? Or do you truly have nothing left to return to that you would cling to the first thing you come across?"

Was it chivalry? Was it justice? Was it a need to be a hero? Was it tragedy? Or was it a desire to change something that could no longer be changed in his past?

What reason did the generic child have to bloody himself to the extent of near death for people he'd only recently met? Why speak to a widowed mother who had no say or impact on the mission at hand? Why bother trying to talk to some cynical child who had no desire to be cheered up? Why bother helping their client with building the bridge when it didn't matter how long the mission took to complete?

"Because I want to."

As simply as that, Touma answered.

"This...isn't the first time someone's asked me that question. At this point, I should expect it. Is it so strange doing what I do without having to give an explanation? Why am I the only one who doesn't question giving a person so much as a hand?"

Exasperated.

Kamijou Touma was exasperated with...everything, he supposed.

In the dead of night, outside where he could feel the cool breeze of the sea against his face, he felt the tension in his shoulders relieve a bit. It felt like he was talking with Tsunami or Naruto and the Nee-san again. It was always like this. And for whatever reason, he found he was growing tired of having to explain himself again.

Why couldn't others understand him? Why couldn't others just accept his hand?

"Doesn't matter where I find myself. It's always the same; someone is in trouble. Someone is being hurt. Someone is either tearing up or crying without even the strength to call out for help. If there's one constant wherever I go it's someone suffering an unfair situation."

Touma leaned into his folded arms, eyes narrowed as he clenched his fingers into his sleeves.

"If you don't like something, change it. Fix it. Do something instead of just...standing aside or walking away if it bothers you. I don't need someone to give me their life's story. You don't even have to ask or beg with tears in your eyes; if I want to save you, I'm going to save you."

"Was that truly your first thought when you met us? Are you so selfless that you had already made up your mind to follow us into the gates of the underworld of death and despair, merely because you didn't like what you heard? If I recall correctly, you didn't seem particularly thrilled to take the plunge with us. From what I remember, I had to talk you into joining our little party."

For a second, Touma thought back to when he was first exiled into this new world for supernatural ninjas by World Rejecter. Lost and confused. Injured and despaired. Awakened in a world not his own due to his failure to contain the malice bubbling beneath his right hand.

His first instinct had been to get an idea of the general layout of the forest. To begin making a plan on what to do next. Othinus's Infinite Hells had been brutal but had also given him more than enough experience to deal with being sent away into a new world.

A scream was heard.

A fist was made.

And the exiled high school boy had found himself involved in the story of a nation without its hero, a corrupt billionaire, and supernatural ninjas.

Hadn't he first rejected the thought of sticking around to lend a hand? To skip the troubles of an entire nation in favor of his circumstances? Ninjas from Konohagakure had been hired to protect the bridge builder and his family. A problem had been seen, cries for help had been heard, and people far more confident, powerful, talented, gifted, and experienced were already on the scene to fix what was broken. So, what reason did such a weak boy have to lend his hand?

Why bother?

If Hatake Kakashi hadn't sought his help, would Touma have simply left without another thought to the miserable village?

Just the thought of...of the people who had been saved, of the smiles, regained, all because this idiot had been stupid enough to challenge Gato's men in public…

An ugly, sickening, and resentful sneer formed on his face. As if he had just taken a mouthful of gravel and dirt he couldn't spit out.

"I was going to walk away. After clashing with Momochi Zabuza and later collapsing when we arrived at Tazuna-san's home from blood loss, I was contemplating what to do next. My first thought wasn't to continue helping Tazuna after hearing about his trouble; I really thought there was no need to step in with you and Team-7 already helping. I was only thinking of myself at the time and what I could do until..."

I was saved.

For once, he'd been hoping he would eventually be the one saved. Just as long as he held out long enough, somewhere, and kept away from any dangers and trodden carefully in a new exotic world separate from the hells of Othinus's torture, maybe...maybe he would be saved and brought back home. It had been a tiny thought. One short-lived and kept locked in the deepest core of his heart.

He didn't bother to lend his hand in protecting Tazuna once things had settled down enough for him to think. If it were not for Kakashi giving him the opportunity to do something, what would the end result have been?

"I'm not some selfless hero or some kind of wandering saint. Everything I've ever done has always been for my own interests. But even so-"

The ugly sense of defeat and frustration budding in Touma's chest was quashed by the bits of light he had salvaged. Whether he had no desire to save anyone at first when he fell into this world didn't mean shit. Because, just like always!

"Just because I lack the requirements to step in, doesn't mean I could bear the regret of not taking any action at all. If you spot misery, why do you need to give out a detailed list of reasons to step in and stop a person's tears? I refuse to become the kind of person who can just walk along with a smile on his face while the people behind him are struggling to even call out to me. Even if I falter here and there, it doesn't matter. If I have the chance to help people find or protect an ordinary life, I'll take it without question."

This world was not his own. It wasn't even a creation of Magic God Othinus designed to shave away at his bleeding heart. Could it even be considered a strange frame of the world he had known or even a phase lying at one of its bottommost layers? Why bother saving anyone if he had no attachments to such a place? He should be focusing on his survival and searching for ways, however slim and impossible they may be, to return home safe and sound.

Like Hatake Kakashi said; why bother trying to save a cynical boy like Inari? What good would it do him? Why would it bother him to such an extent as being unable to sleep?

Yes, it was frustrating. It wasn't easy to swallow how his attempts to cheer up Inari were being sneered at. It hurt. And who knows? Maybe Touma wasn't the one designated to be the one to save Inari's heart and would have been better left to step aside.

Still, he wouldn't just give up and let that kid continue dragging himself in nothing but misery.

"You could leave, right now, and forget all about this, Kamijou-san. I believe you've done enough and gone as far as you can. No one would blame you for stepping aside and leaving what's left to the professionals. I can give you my word: I'll take care of the rest and protect Tazuna's family and Otohime-san with my life."

Don't hurt yourself any further. Don't risk your life for a cause you hold no attachment to. Drop the burdens and protect yourself. Those who were far more talented and qualified could take it from here. You'd saved enough people.

Don't bother yourself with the smile of a boy who could only spit in your direction and wished you were six feet under instead.

"Just what kind of lazy bastard do you take me for? Doesn't matter where I started or how far I've gotten. I could have fallen into this at the very climax with a missing arm and still continue without even understanding what kind of plot I've landed myself in. All that matters is that someone is unhappy, so I'll fight. I'll keep trying no matter how many times I fail."

A small fire burned in the pit of Touma's stomach. Its ferocity gave him the energy to stand back up and directly face the stern-faced gray-haired shinobi. Kakashi stared down the odd teenage boy, leaning to push the naive stranger to back down and let go of his fist.

"You're not needed."

"And I don't need your approval."

"Unorthodox skills and combat ability aside, you're simply an ordinary boy with a strange right hand. You're weak."

"Who cares? This weakling busted Momochi Zabuza's nose with one hit."

"You most likely won't be compensated for all your troubles. The most you'll earn is a small sack of meager coin for all the blood you've spilled and scars you've carved into your skin."

"I'm used to being a poor student who can just barely feed himself and his roommates. I've never fought to be repaid or gifted anything special. I don't expect to be rewarded for acting selfishly in my interests."

"You won't be remembered as the hero. The ninja of Konohagakure no Sato will be the ones to draw in all the attention and take all the glory. Even if a few citizens would declare you the savior, the official reports from one the world's greatest shinobi villages will matter-of-factually state it was Team-7, lead by the legendary Copy Ninja Hatake Kakashi, who saved Nami no Kuni."

"I've never fought to be recognized or touted as some hero. So long as people are smiling at the end, who cares who takes all the credit? I'll be happy so long as no one's crying anymore."

There was no backing down from the spiky teen's resolve. He was going to see this through to the very end.

Maybe if he was given this choice to leave it in the hands of Team-7 at the very, very beginning, then Touma would have done so. Not now though. It was too late to just step back.

And for those idiots dragging him into their mess, he would forever be grateful.

Kakashi released a grudging sigh and shook his head. He was hardened enough to know a losing battle when he found one.

"You're a stubborn one, Kamijou-san."

He wouldn't say he agreed with the boy. The matter was mute and arguing would simply lead to them standing outside until the orange-yellow tint of the coming morning greeted them. Rest was an important thing for a shinobi, so why waste any more time with some stubborn fool in over his head?

What he wanted to see and confirm with his own eyes had been found. Lingering doubts and suspicion were all but null and void for this veteran.

"Does Inari's happiness mean that much to you to continue sticking around?"

"Why wouldn't it? Just because he hates the sight of me, doesn't mean I'm just going to abandon him, or anyone else. I don't care if I'm not the hero he wants to save him. I'll take the role of a villain, a thug, a bastard, a weakling, just so long as at the end of this unfinished story, once it's been laid to rest, he can smile. Even if he's not here- I swear, I'll fulfill Kaiza's promise and save him this time!"

Even if it couldn't be seen, a smile made its way to the scar-eyed shinobi.

"Well, since you're here, and it appears you can't sleep, how about you help me with a little trick, Kamijou-san?"

"?"

From one of the many pockets of his flat jacket, a total of five scrolls were taken out with a flourish. Each one had a scarlet red sting tying them into coin rolls and appeared no bigger than Kakashi's middle finger. From what little tidbits Touma had gleaned from the ways of the supernatural shinobi, the coin roll papers were supernatural in nature and could act like pocket spaces just as he had seen from Kyofu. Meaning each scroll held certain items and tools for the crafty shinobi to use in battle or emergencies.

As it was a supernatural item, Touma was the wrong person to help with anything involving it. One touch of Imagine Breaker would destroy it. However, he did have to wonder what would happen to whatever things were sealed within. Would it be like a buckshot; the 'shell' would break and the 'shrapnel' within would burst out?

He explained as much to Kakashi, who only offered one of his patented eye smiles in return.

"Don't worry, all I need from you is to memorize a few little hand gestures for me; though that does bring up an interesting idea. Tell me, how good are you with adlibbing?"

[-]

An hour or so later, Kakashi bid goodnight to the spiky-haired teen, seeing him off while the boy continued twisting his fingers around in strange gestures.

Quick learner. The veteran nin was impressed by how well and how quickly the not-so-normal teen familiarized himself with the hand signs without any prior training. Not to mention the new little trick the two had come up with.

'Whether you like it or not, you have the makings of a terrifying beast. Is it natural born talent? Or is possible you've already been through enough hells to gain such a frightening gleam in those eyes.'

Kamijou Touma continued to surprise him.

But he was no threat. Whatever inklings or doubts he had clinging to the back of his thoughts were banished with this last talk. For all the things that made little sense to the supposedly average civilian teen, his quick wit, endurance paint tolerance, effective tactics, fighting style, and strange ability, there was no reason to question his integrity any longer.

Simply because there were people who were not smiling, struggling to survive, despaired, and in tears, did that reckless child decide to fight against an entire criminal organization?

Had it Kakashi's way, he would have never involved Kamijou Touma in their affairs. When they had first met, he had truly believed him to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. A false smile with another concealed kunai hidden perfectly within his sleeves. At the very least, at the end of the battle with Momochi Zabuza, he believed the boy to be some kind of traveling mercenary. Keeping him close had merely been a means of ensuring that dangerous weapon didn't fall into the wrong hands for the right price, and possibly utilizing him for their own means. After coming to the realization that the normal teen was actually a normal teen caught up in trouble he should have never seen, Kakashi had come to realize he made a rookie mistake in asking for the aid of such a person.

Even now, he still struggled to understand what had come over him. What exactly was it about the already banged-up boy with a strange right hand that had screamed at him to bring along. It was irrational. At the time, he was making up excuses by assessing the abilities and strengths he had garnered from merely witnessing him in one fight. Imagine Breaker, the odd power exclusively tied to Kamijou Touma's right hand(a bloodline ability, surely, as Kakashi's Sharingan was unable to replicate it) was a convenient tool but one that would hardly change the outcome of Nami no Kuni's future.

An unpolished diamond; a brilliant treasure buried beneath crud and dirt, stubborn to scrap off its shell.

Had it been because he believed he found an incredibly rare gem that he felt would be idiotic to discard?

No, that hadn't been it either. If the boy had been a hidden prodigy to be brought to Konohagakure, Kakashi could have kept him away from the fighting and later returned for him.

'His eyes.'

...They had reminded him far too starkly of Kamikaze Minato.

Kakashi leaned back against the wooden frame of the small home and sighed into the night air.

Truly, what a strange mission.

"...You can come out now. It must be tiring to have kept yourself hidden for so long in such a poor stance. Luckily for you, Kamijou-san isn't a shinobi or even a trained fighter; any genin worth any salt would have been able to spot you the moment they stepped out."

Nothing was said back. Silence responded first, an almost palatable hesitance of nothing before Kakashi's right ear twitched faintly.

From just around the corner of the home, a nervous Inari stepped out of the shadows.

By the scarecrow nin's deduction, the only grandson of Tazuna had been out for some time. Most likely before even Touma had walked out for a breath of fresh air. Whether it be embarrassment, anxiety, hesitation, fear, or just disliking the spiky teen that much, Inari had kept quiet and hid himself from view.

Meaning…

"You shouldn't give him too much credit. While I may have caught you back there, I can't say Kamijou-san had."

The brim of the young cynical boy's hat shrouded his expression from view. But one didn't need some special optical power to see what was hidden in the trembling boy's face.

Kakashi scratched his head, already seeing where this was leading. Plenty had been said to the grieving boy, but perhaps it was time for him to say his piece.

Returning to sitting on the edge of the water of the home, the one-eyed ninja patted the side beside him, gesturing for the inner turmoil boy to sit.

Maybe Inari was tired, fed up, or drained.

For whatever reason, he sat down with eyes drawn to the reflection of the water.

"You can't stop thinking about those two, can you?"

"…"

"Admittedly, Naruto is a bit much. That kid has too much energy and not enough of a mind to be able to properly put it to good use; other than running his mouth. Maybe it's because of this that he can't keep his thoughts to himself. Harsh as it had sounded earlier, he didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

A small hiccup could be heard by Inari. Twin streaks of clear salty liquid ran down the shadow of his face.

"As for Kamijou-san...well, I believe you already heard enough from him. He's not so complicated; more like, I think it's us who can't comprehend that he's not complicated."

Why?

It went unsaid but Kakashi didn't need to hear the words spoken from the quivering lips of the crying boy. Even now after hearing Touma's own words, the question remained.

"We've heard the story: about your father. For all my accolades and accomplishments, even I found myself respecting the image Kaiza-san painted with his actions. I've known men like that...I've lost friends like that. I can understand the hate and misery of losing such a person. Losing a father is never easy."

Hatake Kakashi knew such pain very well. Losing his father at such an age had drastically changed him as well. Strange as it was, he could see a bit of himself in that cynical boy's eyes.

At the mention of Kaiza, Inari's posture grew stiff and anxious.

But he didn't attack. Unlike before, he kept quiet and bottled the vile poison seething in his small chest.

"Naruto is the same. He too grew up without a father or a mother."

Miserable dark orbs grew wide, caught by surprise by the comment. Slowly, Inari looked to the side of the wistful one-eyed ninja as he continued.

"Back in our village, he had no one from the day he was born. No parents, no friends. His childhood was...rough, for a lack of a better word. Born alone in a village unable to see past the shadows of a past he had no part of, he had been just like you at some point. Hateful, angry, miserable, and crying. At one point, you'd probably be unable to tell one another apart."

Kakashi was guilty of the shadow of the boy's misery. He had done little to soften the hate and ridicule, too preoccupied with his missions and grief to truly do anything good for his sensei's only child. Even if he had kept a watchful eye on the blond spiky-haired boy, it wasn't enough to diminish his guilt. No amount of excuses would soothe Minatao or Kushina's fury for allowing their child to grow up in such hate and blame.

Training the son of his beloved sensei was merely a small chance for him to make up for all those lost years.

Yet somehow, despite all the rightful reasons for Konoha's Jinchuriki to lash out and wear the wicked demonic shadow the village had cast upon him…

"One day though, he stopped crying. Somehow, despite having no one to soothe his tears or help him up whenever he even had a scrapped knee, the lonely little boy cast in the shadows of a painful past simply stopped crying. By the time he was your age, that sniffling boy was gone. Replaced by this rambunctious twerp who wielded a large and bright grin. He went from being silent to this loud child who proclaimed to everyone he had a dream, one no one would dissuade him from achieving despite how ridiculous it seemed for such a child to reach for. Maybe...without even seeing it myself, he found something or someone to see past the clouding tears."

Flashes of a bright-eyed boy with a sunny smile popped into Kakashi's mind, swallowing the somber child sitting all alone on a swing set. Glimpses of Naruto's sadness were still there but they were but glimpses poking out every once in a while. Were it not for Iruka coming into Naruto's life, that sunny boy would never have surfaced.

"I guess he grew sick and tired of only crying as nothing changed around him. He grew strong on his own, a strength not unlike your Tou-san. Maybe that's why he can't seem to ignore you; in his own Naruto-way, he's simply concerned about you and wants you to smile."

A silent Inari bowed his head with an unreadable expression on his face.

Seething.

The bile of hatred and malice was still seething in his tiny chest.

But it was less volatile. Nothing sputtered as he listened to the older shinobi talk about the annoying sunny-blond idiot who wouldn't shut up. Yet the bile continued to cling to his heart.

Inari licked his lips anxiously and spoke lowly.

"What about...Kamijou?"

It was the first time he ever spoke the older spiky boy's name out loud. He'd learned a bit about Naruto from the one-eyed shinobi, so maybe he could learn more about the false hero who had stolen his father's spotlight without even trying.

If he could...if he could just learn even a grain of who Kamijou Touma is, then maybe…

"Sorry, but I can't say."

Inari's shoulders sagged. He couldn't understand why. Kakashi chuckled softly at his disposition.

"Believe me, you're not the only one who wants to understand Kamijou-san. You must have stuck around long enough to have heard him for yourself, correct? On why he's going so far out of his way to make a cynical brat happy when his happiness is of no concern to him."

Even if Inari wasn't some kind of supernatural ninja who could pick up on sounds several yards away, he had heard him. When he had caught the older boy walking down the stairs, heading outside, Inari had followed. Why, he still wasn't sure. But ever since his outburst during dinner, he felt something in his chest other than bile.

"Maybe it is as simple as he makes it: he simply wants to. In his eyes, nothing is as simple as helping a person who doesn't even have the strength to call for help. Whether there is a deep-seated motivation for why he bothers to involve himself in such a conflict when there is no reward awaiting him at the end, it most likely wouldn't matter to him. I don't believe he's the type to pocket excuses for his benefit. To him, all it must take is seeing a troubled person caught in a terrible situation for him to put his life on the line."

It couldn't be that simple. Right?

Inari found it hard to swallow such a simple reasoning. Why would the stranger do it? Why fight for his people when he had no part in even the mission the Konoha shinobi were assigned to solely protect his grandfather? What made him stick around his family and want to help around the house when he was wounded? There had to be a reason for him, something to gain, for wanting to make his family smile.

Without a doubt, there had to be a reason why Kamijou Touma was trying to make Inari happy! It couldn't be so simple as that!

'Why wouldn't it? Just because he hates the sight of me, doesn't mean I'm just going to abandon him, or anyone else. I don't care if I'm not the hero he wants to save him. I'll take the role of a villain, a thug, a bastard, a weakling, just so long as at the end of this unfinished story, once its been laid to rest, he can smile. Even if he's not here; I swear, I'll fulfill Kaiza's promise and save him this time!'

...It was that simple, wasn't it?

Inari had heard Kamijou Touma's frustration clear as day. He'd seen how he looked ready to crumble at a mere touch as he sat down by himself. How his voice seemed to take a tone of self-doubt as he wondered out loud why he couldn't connect with him. How he seemed to grow irritated at being questioned on why he was bothering to want to help out. And how he seemed to have regained the will to keep going even though the person he was trying to protect could only sneer at him and slap his hand aside.

Whether others would accept his bland and boring reasoning didn't matter. The older spiky-haired boy would merely continue fighting for the mere fact he couldn't stand seeing others suffer. Digging any further into the dirt wouldn't reveal anything shocking or grand. Because everything to be found was already out in plain sight. To strike the ground for anything more would only dig one in a hole with no bottom.

In the very end, it was up to Inari whether to grab a shovel and seek for more. Nothing Touma could say could further convince those who asked him for more whether he was keeping anything buried for his agenda or safety.

"I don't get him."

"I don't think there's anything to get. Truthfully? I still believe he's keeping things to himself. But those secrets are his to keep and have nothing to do with wanting to simply take your hand from the heavy depths of despair and pull you out before you drown any further. Take his word? Sneer at his fake sincerity? Whether you agree or disagree doesn't matter to him, remember? Whether you like it or not, that masochistic boy will go out of his way to save you."

Even now, after hearing and having certain thoughts cemented, the bile remained. It seethed. It burned like something acidic threatening to melt through. It wasn't something so trivial as to be cleared away like dirt to a spray of water.

But Inari's face no longer revealed any kind of resentment or malice when the face of that bandaged spiky boy came to mind. The bile was stirred but no longer grew in intensity. It clung on like some kind of sticky bile.

The cynical boy who despised heroes looked out into the open waters of his home, eyes clouded but brimming with the glint of something beginning to clear the fog.

"Do you actually think you all can save us? That Ojiji-san's bridge can save the nation all by itself?"

"No."

Kakashi's words were blunt, taking Inari by surprise. But before the bile in his heart could sputter, the gray-haired veteran nin spoke.

"Only you and this people's nation can save yourselves. We can defeat the demon lord and his army if need be but it is up to the people of the conquered land to pick up the pieces and ensure a similar demon lord doesn't rise or resurrect in the end. The hard work left behind at the battle's end is not our responsibility. We are here to protect one man and his bridge; you want the nation saved? Then start taking after that Tou-san of yours and fight with everything you have to save that which you care for most. It should be easy."

Kakashi gave the wide-eyed child a patented eye smile.

"After all, a powerless and weak boy was able to defeat the demon lord's forces and take out a few of his top men all on his own. So, it should stand to reason that even a drunk old man like your grandfather can stand up and bust the demon lord's face if he wants to. Why can't you?"

The only ones who could save this nation, its people, and his family, who could take the title of heroes, were people like Inari.

Inari's lips were drawn in a conflicted line. Nothing came to mind in response to the shinobi's words, designed to inspire him to pick himself up and fight for what he wanted to protect. It sounded so easy. Were he anyone else, those words may have been enough.

Sensing as much, Kakashi patted the silent young boy gently as he stood up to leave him in peace.

"That said, actions speak greater than mere words. None of us expect you to change your attitude overnight. It would be insulting to your grief if it were. So, watch. Criticize those children who have yet to learn how harsh and cruel this world can truly be; your words will be what helps them leap to greater heights and strive for greater goals than mere strength or glory. We'll take Kaiza-san's words and show you that they were more than mere lies."

Kakashi left the stewing and contemplating cynic with one more eye-smile before departing back to sleep.

A sigh was released by the doubtful boy with too many thoughts weighing on his head. He hated to admit it but his eyes were starting to sting with the threat of tears. He pulled his small legs up to his chest to embrace as he continued staring at the open waters of his home. Once again, those words ingrained in his heart echoed loudly.

"If it means a lot to you, why not fight with your all to protect it?"

The bile in his heart didn't stir. Unlike all the times those words decided to speak up from the depths of his broken heart, he didn't feel the seething burn he had grown accustomed to. Strangely, it was silent.

Left alone with the sounds of the calm waves, chirps of birds and bugs, and wind blowing by to tickle the leaves of the trees, Inari simply let those words sit.

It wouldn't be until his wet eyes grew heavy with exhaustion that he decided to go back inside and sleep in his mother's bed. Weirdly enough, he didn't spy the older spiky boy when he cracked the door open.

He had to wonder where Kamijou Touma went.

[-]

"That should do it."

It took some effort but Touma found the last pillow he was searching for kept in a nearby closet off to the side of the living room of Tazuna's home. Arms full of several comfy pillows, a comforter, and a blanket, the world-displaced high school boy quietly tip-toed his way way to the bathroom on the first floor of the modest home.

Now, one would wonder why he was going to the bathroom with bedding materials.

Simply put, Touma planned on sleeping in the bathtub. A habit he had done routinely back in his original world. As for why he was doing so when he was given a nice comfy bed to sleep on, in thanks to the ever lovely and kind mother, Tsunami, it was rather simple.

Due to him feeling better, wounds all but closed up, and the events of dinner, he felt it was better that he leave Tsunami's room. After what happened, it would only be awkward. Plus, he wasn't so beaten up to take her bed any longer. There wasn't any reason for him to have to share a room with her and steal her bed.

So, upon returning inside, he had sneaked into Tsunami's room for his futon, thankful that the mother was sound asleep, and grabbed a few more pillows to make a make-shift bed in the bathtub downstairs. With all he needed sleep sorta comfortably(he was in for a sore back tomorrow morning), he turned his sights to the bathroom door to get everything together.

Carefully, he stepped through the living room and passed the dining room, intent on getting some kind of good night's sleep. He had to be careful not to be heard. He'd caught Otohime a few times turning in her sleep as he grabbed everything. If the shark-girl found him up and about, he was positive with how affectionate she was that she would demand she sleep with him.

Or even drag him into her futon like a fussy child. For a malnourished kid close to his age, she was surprisingly strong.

"Kamijou-san? What are you doing?"

A familiar voice caught him mid-tiptoe, causing him to freeze with an arm full of soft pillows and sheets. It didn't sound like Otohime, so he breathed a sigh of relief. He heard a cupped yawn on the person's lips as he turned his head back to find long pink hair and set of drowsy green eyes.

"Haruno-san? What are you doing up this late? Shouldn't you be asleep?" he asked, earning him a small frown back from the girl.

Judging by the empty glass of water in her hand, she must have gotten up for a drink of water. Seeing as she was facing in the direction of the bathroom too, she may have wanted to visit it before heading back to sleep with the others. Which made this rather embarrassing.

"I asked you first. Is there a reason why you're carrying all that bedding into what I assume is the bathroom? I thought you and Tsunami-san were sharing a room."

Touma shrugged, "Since I'm not so beat up anymore, I thought it be better for me to give her back her space. She must have grown tired of having to sleep in the same room as some random stranger like me. She's probably been nervous at the idea of a guy like me sleeping so close like I might try something creepy with her. Can't blame her."

Why she bothered to put up with him was a mystery. A person could only be so kind as to give up their bed and sleep on a futon on the floor so close. He couldn't help but feel guilty that she believed she had to.

Sakura gave Touma a strange stare as if she almost couldn't believe him.

"Right." What was with the suspicious glare?! "Be that as it may, why are you heading for the bathroom? Why not just set your futon with the rest of us in the living room?"

"From the looks of it, there doesn't seem to be much space for me. And I rather not share a futon with anyone."

"And so, you're going to sleep where? The bathtub?"

Sakura giggled, half-expecting the older teen to laugh back. Instead, she found Touma look away as if in shame. She stopped giggling and stared at the strange boy who had fought against the likes of Momochi Zabuza without shaking.

"Really?"

"I mean, it's awkward at first but once you find a nice position and adjust everything just right, you'll fall asleep without much trouble."

"How do you know this!?"

"It's a long story. Let's just say that I've had to share a room with someone else, and to avoid any misfortune with her, I found it was better for me to sleep in the bathtub with the door locked. Even with all my precautions though, it sometimes doesn't work out in my favor. I've woken up to bite marks far too many times to properly explain it to my friends and teachers."

"Every time you open your mouth to talk about your life, I can't help but question whether you're lying or just out of mind. How are you supposedly the normal one out of all of us?"

"Leave me to my denial, Haruno-san. If you continue poking at my fragile illusions, I'll seriously start crying."

Feeling like there was nothing more to say, and hoping Sakura would take the hint to use the bathroom upstairs instead, Touma turned his back to get ready for bed.

"Goodnight, Haruno-san. Do me a favor, if you could. If you notice anyone heading to the bathroom down here, can you warn them that I'm here? With my bad luck, locking the door probably won't save me from some weird misunderstandings."

One step forward, and he was stopped.

"Wait."

The cry was said in a hush but it was just strong enough to catch his attention. Curiously, he turned back to find the pinkette kunoichi biting her lower lip.

"Is there something you need?" he asked carefully, not wanting to reveal he was exhausted and would rather go to bed.

Whatever she wanted to say was difficult for her to say out loud, judging by how she lightly shuffled her feet and twisted her hand over her wrist. Gingerly, her lips opened as she gathered the confidence to speak what was plaguing her thoughts this late into the night. She almost seemed as if saying it out loud was wrong, like saying something insulting when she knew better.

"Are you...okay?"

Touma hadn't been expecting that.

"I mean, I'm a bit sore here and here still, but I'm feeling alright."

"No, that's not what I meant." Sakura sighed stubbornly before stepping up to the older boy and looking up at him, "I mean, after what Inari said back during dinner, what he said to you, about, you know?"

"Oh, right. Guess you ninja must have heard what he said underneath his breathe." Touma said awkwardly before waving it off, "Don't worry about it, Haruno-san. Some fresh air helped to clear my mind and get over it. I wouldn't take what Inari said so seriously. He's just a kid going through a tough time, after all. So, just forget about it."

He shrugged the matter off nonchalantly and turned back to the bathroom door.

"Get some sleep, Haruno-san. You're one of the brave heroes protecting Nami no Kuni's bright future. You shouldn't be staying up late concerned over a guy like me."

With a simple smile on his face, the older boy bid goodnight to the pink-haired girl and shut the door behind him with a click.

Sakura continued staring at the door, at a loss of what to say or if she should have said anything. She could only let out a grudging sigh. It was rather late and even as things had become rather peaceful in the village with Gato's men scurrying off, she was still expected to be up early to accompany Tazuna to the construction site.

Besides, it wasn't like she was close to Kamijou Touma. Did she have a right to be worried about him? Tsunami and Otohime did enough of the worrying for any of them.

Still, even as she moved to return to bed, she couldn't help how her eyes lingered on where the strange boy they had taken in was sleeping.

[-]

When Touma woke up the next morning, he was pleasantly surprised to have found his sleep uninterrupted the entire night without any kind of mishaps startling him awake. No destructive loli or middle school girl invading his tub, no shattered wall, no fires, no sirens, and no person startling him awake with a shrilly scream as they came to realize he was sleeping in the bathtub. With a slight groan, he pushed himself up from the bathtub-bed he had set up and rubbed his arms of the morning gunk in the corners of his eyes as he let out a yawn. Idly, his pointer finger scratched at his suddenly itchy chin.

Again? Had some bug bit him last night?

'Guess Haruno-san told them I took over the bathroom. And the lock's held? Either this is a sign of a good da- who am I kidding? Anything fortunate is a sign of disaster to come.'

Cynicism aside, Touma moved out of his makeshift bed and proceeded to go through his typical morning routine: toilet, hand wash, face wash, use some hair gel Tazuna-san kept in the bathroom(the old drunk was far too old to be keeping such a thing but Touma wasn't complaining) and folding his bedding. Refreshed as he cleaned up, the spiky teen walked out with another yawn on his lips.

His nose caught the lingering whiff of breakfast in the air. Judging by the few plates left on the table, it looked like everyone had already eaten. Had he slept through breakfast? Now that he thought about it, he did briefly wake up at some point to a light series of knocks on the door. Just how tired was he last night?

"Ryu-sama!"

Upon leaving the bathroom, the still-tired Touma heard a hurried set of feet running in his direction. No amount of preparation would save him from widely grinning Otohime rushed him out of nowhere with a missile glomp to his stomach.

"Gah! My liver!"

Thank god that his injuries from Sector-D were all but healed or he'd be leaning over with a bloody cough. Even the deep stab from one of Waraji's jagged katana shards in his side was nothing but a sore scab now. He had to wonder if it was thanks to Gaze-san's expertise and medical skills that he was recovering so swiftly or...something else he'd rather not entertain.

With a trembling hand and a grimace, Touma patted the nuzzling shark girl on the head.

"M-Morning, Otohime-chan. Could you, uh, ease up on your grip? I can hear my organs whimpering."

Ignorant of her strength, Otohime pouted but relented. It was rather worrisome how easy it was for him to get her to do what he asked. Then again, no matter how many times he asked her, she wouldn't drop the whole Ryu-sama matter.

With a pat to his sore abdomen, Touma went on further into the dining room, catching a faint hum further ahead into the living room. Simply happy to be beside him, Otohime followed right behind without a word. From the looks of the leftover empty plates, he surmised the others(Team-7 and Tazuna) left once breakfast was over to go about their normal routines. Tazuna's work at the bridge was progressing rather smoothly with the increase in manpower, so it was only a matter of time before it was complete.

Meaning Team-7 had to be on high alert for any retaliation from Gato.

As the only one not putting in any work, Touma had been left to sleep in. Most likely they believed he could use all the rest he could get even as most of his wounds had been healed.

Meaning the humming could only belong to one person in the household.

"Oh, Kamijou-kun! Good morning."

Thread and needles in hand, Tsunami sat in the living room with a bright smile. An incomplete piece of clothing was found on her lap along with various pins, rolls of colored threads, fabric scissors, and a small sewing machine. Being the keeper of the house, she had taken up sewing as a hobby and was responsible for many of the clothing her family wore. Even the shirt and pants Touma had been provided after his clothes had been torn apart and soaked in blood were made by her skilled handiwork.

One of the thin sewing needles could be found in the corner of the mother's mouth, bit down like a toothpick as she expertly threaded several stitches to what he could only guess was a...hat?

"...Morning."

Touma blinked dumbly. A quick twist of his head to the side of the humming seamstress mother revealed a quiet Inari sitting on his knees, holding another article of unfinished clothing for Tsunami. Was he helping her multi-task between different articles of work?

No, actually what caught him by surprise was the morning greeting. Even if it was a glance to address him, he wasn't wrong in assuming the young boy had spoken to him and not Otohime. That was a first. In all the time Touma had been staying with Tazuna's family, never once had Inari ever spoken to him with anything other than disdain.

Touma scratched his chin. Maybe it was better not to dig into it.

"Good morning too." he smiled simply, relieved for just the smallest nod from the kid.

Tsunami must have noticed as well, telling by how her face brightened up incredibly. Had something happened to lessen Inari's mood? Seriously, just last night he had the face of a guy who wanted to spit in his face and kick him in the groin. Like a non-tsundere Misaka Mikoto greeting him while on his way back from school; weird.

"Looks like I slept in, huh? Seems like everyone else has already left the house."

"Sorry, but we did try waking you this morning but it looked like you were in a heavy sleep. Don't worry though, I saved your breakfast in some tin foil, so you only need to warm it up." Tsunami answered through a few pin needles that she proceeded to poke through the fabric in her hand.

"I didn't eat it."

Touma stared at the proud-faced Otothime, developing chest puffed out as if she had accomplished something great and worthy of praise.

"She ate your toast."

The proud and dignified posture crumbled at the flat comment from Inari mid-sew.

"I-It was burnt! I was doing Ryu-sama a favor! He deserves only the best and finest of meals!"

"Plus two strips of bacon."

"Dry bacon! They weren't juicy, and they certainly didn't melt in my mouth, at all!"

"Just before you ran out to greet him, I saw you leave the kitchen again with ballooned cheeks; you nearly choked."

"S-stop casually revealing my sins to Ryu-sama, you moody momma's boy!"

"Grk! Momma's boy?!"

A strange, almost surreal sight unfolded to Touma.

Cynical, angry, solemn, Inari began to but heads with the childish shark-girl(about six or seven years his senior) like it were a perfectly normal thing to do. Despite his short height, the young boy glared up with embarrassment at Otohime like a schoolboy who had just found a classmate revealing a stuffed bear he'd still sleep with. If Touma didn't know any better, those two children were all but ready to leap at one another throats and fall into a dust cloud of thrashing limbs he was all too familiar with.

Normal.

Such a reaction was perfectly normal. An everyday occurrence for a boy who was only eight years old. Like two siblings arguing with one another.

It shouldn't have been a surreal thing to witness. In a normal, boring, peaceful world, this was a scene meant to be seen as commonplace to everyone.

'Had something changed when I was sleeping? Did someone...save him?'

The Inari butting heads with Otohime was a stark contrast to the Inari who had spat venom back in Touma's face for merely desiring to save him. Out of his sight, the cynical child...had he lost some of the pain and grief stubbornly clinging to his heart?

A sense of jealousy pathetically kicked at Touma's core.

Yet the smile on his face didn't dim in the slightest.

Sensing his surprise, Tsunami walked over to the spiky-teen and stared alongside him as the petty arguments turned into a min-wrestling match.

"Take that back, you shitty fangirl!"

"Make me, you stupid crybaby!"

Touma winced, watching as Inari pulled on Otohime's long dark blue hair while the girl caught the much younger boy in a tight headlock. Where had she even learned a form like- oh, right, she'd sat in on enough examinations to see Anmai's daughters throw down to pick up some moves.

"I'm not sure of it myself," Tsunami mused in equal surprise, "Ever since this morning, he's been in a...calmer mood? Nicer? No, I wouldn't go as far as that. Tamer? Feels wrong to say that as well. But for whatever reason, since he came to my room last night to sleep, Inari's mood, I wouldn't say improved, but it has been more stable, I suppose? He didn't even sneer or scowl at the shinobi when he came down for breakfast. I could have sworn I saw the tiniest of smiles when Hatake-san waved at him."

In other words, Inari had come to some kind of epiphany outside of their sight?

Again, he felt an uncomfortable wriggle in his chest. He had questions.

"Get off me, you fish-ranked bitch! Gah! I can already smell fishiness seeping into my clothes!"

"Stop pulling my hair, you lousy brat! That's the best feature that Ryu-sama adores! Pull another hair out, and I'll kill you!"

'...Who cares?'

Wherever the ugly prick came from, Touma stuffed it down and hoped it was crushed to nothing. Compared to seeing the angry boy get into a childish and silly fight with Otohime over something pointless, it wasn't important in the slightest. How could it?

At some point, at some time, by someone, Inari's oppressive and cynical worldview had been cracked. Didn't matter if Touma had any part in it. It never mattered. If he were to give the ugly prick in his chest any attention, he would have devolved into the kind of person he despised.

Why complain when he could simply stand back and enjoy the sight?

One he would have to break up, seeing as it was Otohime's turn to start yanking at the teary-eyed Inari's hair.

"Otohime, remember: we're guests."

All it took was the use of Big-Brother-Kamijou's tone to get the fussy shark girl to let go of Inari. She went as far as to give the groaning Inari an apologetic look marred by a pout.

Inari glanced at Touma's way, continuing to take him back as there wasn't a snarl or glare on the kid's face, not even a click of the tongue as he massaged his sore scalp.

"Thanks."

...Maybe the Inari thanking him nonchalantly was an illusion?

"Why are you staring at your creepy right hand?"

Touma laughed sheepishly as he put Imagine Breaker away, the cursed hand wandering over to his chin again. Damn, why was it so itchy as of late?

Setting down her sewing tools, Tsunami made her way to the kitchen with an amused giggle.

"Well, since you're awake, I might as well heat up whatever is left of your breakfast. Hm? Seems lighter than I expected."

Otohime whistled innocently. Bread crumbs could be seen on the collar of her shirt.

Sounds of sizzling thick-cut bacon could be heard hitting the frying pan a moment later.

"Luckily the pan is still relatively hot, so it shouldn't be long. Even Uzumaki-san's portion is mysteriously gone."

The whistling grew louder as the guilty party poked her still greasy fingers together.

"I'll have your breakfast ready in a bit, Kamijou-kun! In the meantime, I have a surprise ready for you~! Inari, if you could, please?"

A surprise? For this unfortunate Kamijou-san? Typically, surprises for this poor boy were in the lethal variety. Should he find cover?

With some hesitation, Inari listened to his mother and grabbed a set of nicely folded clothes off the side of where she had been sitting. Instantly the colors of dark blue, black, orange, and white struck Touma. He felt his breath get caught in his stiff chest as Inari brought the folded clothing over to his frozen form.

Inari quirked a brow in puzzlement at the older boy's staring.

"You okay? Do you have something in your eyes?"

Touma swallowed thickly and shook his head, tentatively reaching out to the gestured clothes in the small boy's hands.

An entire week, or at least, nearly an entire week.

That was how long Kamijou Touma had found himself exiled into a new world. With the literal clothes on his back, he was ejected into an unfamiliar world, completely alien to the system of laws and physics of his own, without anything or anyone to guide him on stranger tides. Upon finding himself in the Elemental Nations, he had gotten into a fight with a pair of shinobi known as the Demon Brothers, and later, clashed fist to giant buster sword with an infamous outlaw with the moniker of The Demon of The Bloody Mists. Said destructive battle had left him injured.

Said injuries had caused a great deal of blood to soak his clothing. Numerous tears had torn his hoodie, jacket, and one-sleeve shirt to resemble rags. What clothes he had from his original world had been severely damaged and unfit to be worn. It was why he was wearing some hand-me-downs Tsunami was gracious enough to lend him.

Now, in his hands, rested a symbol of High School Kamijou Touma's normal world. In a land of supernatural ninjas, this was the only piece of where his heart longed to return to.

"Thank you, Inari."

Such genuine earnestly spoken of so delicately by the tight-faced Touma took Inari back. The way the older boy held what he regarded as ordinary clothing like it would disappear from his grasp if he didn't clench it, greatly confused him.

To Touma, it wasn't mere clothing though.

Was this what Othinus had felt when she had lost sight of her original world? Was this emotion swelling up inside him the reason why she had obliterated his world, killed off billions, and subjected him to countless hells? Because she longed to return to her world out of a sense of homesickness? Had she been bearing such a crushing, ugly, painful, weight in her stomach for hundreds of years without any kind of relief for the mere chance to glimpse her original home?

He wouldn't excuse the things she had done; to the world or him. But he felt he could grow to understand why now. After only a week, he still couldn't bear the crushing weight.

It was only by being apart from his world that Touma felt he had become an even greater Understander of the fairy-sized Magic God.

Even if the fabric making up his repaired clothes wasn't the same, it felt incredibly warm to the touch. He had to wonder how Tsunami was able to replace the three lost sleeves of his shirt, school uniform, and hoodie so well. Other than some faint seams one would notice when closely inspecting them, you wouldn't guess it was remade from scratch.

"Oh! And don't forget his shoes either! I'm very proud of my work with them."

"My sneakers too?! H-How?" Touma gaped as Inari handed him another item badly damaged in his first real fight in the new world.

He was dumbfounded by the cheery-faced widow's work. It was one thing to fix up his clothing like she were Heaven Canceler, but his shoes? Far as he could tell, 'Sneakers' weren't a commodity. He wasn't even sure they existed at this time. Not to mention the material required to even patch up the soles, and the technology, wouldn't be lying around.

So lost in his marveling at the complete set of his world's clothes, he hadn't noticed Tsunami and Otohime approach from behind. Only the scent of a warm meal consisting of eggs, toast, bacon, and a cup of hot coffee broke him out of his stupor. He looked back to Tsunami, stunned as the ever-kind mother gave him a pretty smile.

"Well? Don't you want to try them on, Kamijou-kun?"

"Tsunami…"

A good cook. A caring mother. A seamstress. Gentle and understanding. Nonviolent to his antics or misfortune. Mature and loving...

Ah, w-what was this feeling in his chest?! It felt like some ape was pounding their fists frantically from inside like he was trying out for a rock band! Damn it, he felt short of breath now!

For reasons neither Tsunami or naive Otohime understood, Touma clutched at his chest with a wordless yelp of agony, almost as if some unseen kunai had been shot at his heart. Inari though regained his glare as he seemed to feel threatened.

S-stay strong, adamant Kaimijou-san! Onee-sans! Lovely, voluptuous, stern yet meek, caring onee-san dorm managers! Don't lose focus of what your adolescent core devotedly desires! Reject this newfound awakening and stay faithful to the symbols of sexiness and care like airheaded Orsola Aquinas, stern yet shy Kanzaki Kaori, flirty and sexy Oriana Thomson, and that big-breasted domineering glasses-wearing Dorm Manager you caught the eye of scolding BiriBiri that one time! Stay true to your fantasies!

POW!

"K-Kamijou-kun!?"

"R-Ryu-sama!?"

"Heh."

Shattering logic, the inner conflicted boy with a wavering heart delivered a perfect cross-counter...to himself. In front of the now worried-faced girls and a satisfied-eyed Inari, Touma had punched himself, planting his right fist deep into his right cheek with an audible sound effect found only in cartoons.

It hurt. Like, really, really hurt. And while he knew he was raised as an atheist in Academy City- Jesus Christ- was this the kind of pain people like Accelerator and Hamazura had taken from him?! Even if he didn't have a mirror or have anyone tell him, he could feel his eyes watering from how much it hurt! And there came the rising hot bump.

'But I did it. I put down those lustful urges ready to erupt in the presence of the wonderful single, widowed mother with a slim and mature body! Fuck you, my roaring adolescence! The strength of your average high school boy isn't anything to sneer at!'

"Crap! Did I really overslept this late?!"

Before both Tsunami and Otohime could admonish him for sealing away his lust, a loud shout took them by surprise. Touma jumped slightly at the sudden banging of footsteps and the chaotic noise of random objects hitting the floor close by.

"Uzumaki-san? Is he still here?" Weird, he would have believed the orange-jumpsuit-wearing genin left with the rest of his team. How did he not notice him?

Tsunami tsked as she got into Touma's personal space, finger already poking at the noticeable bump courtesy of his patented You're Living Your Life Wrong Punch-TM. Her hand felt up his chin, seeking to see if he further hurt himself.

"Uzumaki-san was sound asleep like you were. I'm surprised you hadn't heard him snoring. He wouldn't even rise to Uchiha-san's remarks other than swatting his teammate away. So, it was decided by Hatake-san to leave the child be; he's been overworking himself these past few days and coming back late into the night. Not to mention he had finally completed his ninja exercise. He's deserved some rest."

Touma would have to agree on that. He'd seen both Naruto and Sasuke come back into the very late hours of the night, covered in sweat, dirt, and a few scratches and bumps from failed attempts since they arrived and learned a new trick. Even if the bright-eyed shinobi was some deadly and sneaky assassin in the making, he was still just a kid at the end of the day.

"Hmm?"

Touma quirked a brow, noticing Tsunami's face scrunch up curiously as her hands stopped at his irritated chin.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, not really. Huh, I didn't know you had stub-"

"Damn it, damn it, damn it! Did those assholes seriously ditch me? Grr! Just wait until I see that duck-butt-haired prick! I'll drop his ass off the tree he's standing on!"

Any morning greeting to the loudmouth vanished from Touma's lips as an orange blur blasted past them all.

"Sorry, sorry! I can't stick around and chat! This future Hokage can't be slacking off now. I'm offffffff!"

Again, whatever greeting on Touma's lips vanished, his eyes now twitching as a blinking Tsunami turned her eyes down to the plate of delicious eggs, bacon, and toast she'd set down, now gone. The door to the front of the home was slammed open and quickly slammed shut by the disappearing thief amid a muffled 'Thanks for the meal!'

Did that fox-eyed bastard shovel this poor Kamijou-san's breakfast, made by a lovely kaa-san, into his fat mouth!?

"You son of a bitch. If you think you can just steal another man's food so easily, you're not living your life correctly. Guess that means I'll have to teach you a thing or three!"

"Kamijou-san! Please, put down the belt! It's not meant to be wrapped around your fist like some kind of tape! A belt is only meant for two things, and punishing children isn't one of them!"

"All heretics and thieves who dare to steal oh, great and mighty Ryu-sama's offerings must be punished! Flay him like a trout and evacuate his entrails for the guppies to eat!"

"Guess I'll get the kitchen knife and put you out of your misery, you traitorous fishy-heathen to her idiotic idol."

It took some calming down from the frantic mother to reign in his boiling fury for whiskered bastards, but Touma reigned in his temper as he was told to sit back and wait for another plate. With Otohime following behind, eager to help with the remake of her savior's offering, it left a still miffed Touma with Inari.

Even if his belt was returned to his fixed-up clothes from his world, Touma still grumbled about disrespectful brat as he scratched at the butt of his chin.

"Damn it, why can't I stop scratching? It's been a few days, so it can't be any leftover concrete mix. It's not a wound, but at the rate I'm tearing at my chin, I wouldn't be surprised to see some blood. Gah! I wish I had a mirror or something."

"...-m sorry."

"Eh?"

Mid-rake of the left side of his jaw, Touma stopped. His ears twitched, swearing he had caught words underneath a certain boy refusing to meet his eye.

"Did you say something, Inari?"

Inari clicked his tongue in annoyance as if had expected him to have heard.

"I said...I'm...sorry. Okay!" he shouted with a whisper, eyes returning to a familiar glare Touma had (unfortunately) grown accustomed to.

The sounds of cooking and light talk between Tsunami and Otohime hid their conversation, giving the hero-hater the chance to speak freely. Without those judgmental gazes on his back, Inari felt a little more relaxed. His shoulders loosened as he sighed deeply.

A change had overcome the cynical child. One he seemed hesitant to fully overtake him without a small fight from his inner demons. He grit his teeth, feeling an all too familiar bile in his chest arise like tiny foam bubbles. It took a great deal of effort to drown it out as he spoke up.

"I know it's not fair. How I've been treating you. I...it's not right. And I get you just want to...help." he gritted out as he balled his tiny fingers atop his knees.

It was hard and it felt like was admitting defeat in some way, but he had to say it. If only just to make his mother happy.

"You saved people. Some of which I know. They called you a hero for spitting in Gato's face and beating up his goons, saving so many, and it pissed me off. But...you deserve it. So, I'm sorry for-"

"Don't do that."

Inari's apology was cut off by the stern words of a frowning Touma.

With an awkward scratch at the back of his head, Touma glanced away with guilt.

"Look, I get it. I think I finally got it. That pain, the trauma, everything you're going through. A guy like me who spouts all this crap about wanting to save you so easily? Repeating lines similar to your Tou-san? It's no wonder you've been looking at me with such disdain."

"You're...apologizing? For wanting to save me?" Inari hadn't been expectin-

"Never."

Harsh as it sounded, the spiky teen looked to Inari unapologetic.

"I stepped out of line in thinking I could make such promises so casually. And if I came off as if I was trying to imitate your brave Tou-san and trying to steal his place in your home, I apologize. But I refuse to bow my head for wanting to save you from a shitty and pompous fat lord's rule. At this point, I'm not doing this just for you, Tsunami, and Tazuna. I've already met that greedy mole fuck face-to-face and see how he's been reaping this island for toilet paper he thinks is worth value. I don't even think I can be stopped now."

Fury lit up Touma's eyes, darkening his typically blue eyes with a worrying emotion. Difficult as it was becoming to do, he reigned it in before he could spook the young child. Shame painted his face as he decided to admit something despicable he found budding in his heart since his imprisonment.

"I want Gato gone. I'm not sure how a nobody like me can remove him, and I'm actually afraid of the kind of thoughts brewing in my mind of how I'd like to take him out. For your sake, and your family's and Nami no Kuni's, I'll save you all from Gato's fucking illusions of grandeur. It's a selfish want, not some act of justice. I just want that smug and ugly smiling piece of shit's face planted deep into the dirt!"

At the core of all the tragedy and suffering of the people, he admitted he was fighting simply because it was something he wanted to do for his desires. Beneath his want to rescue Inari and his family, there lay a truly nasty desire for violence to bash in Gato's smug face.

"I'm not a hero like your Tou-san. But it doesn't mean I'll just ignore all this misfortune either. Anyone can stand up to Gato without requiring any kind of birthright, innate talent, or legendary weapon. Even a hero-hater like you can do it."

Inari felt the goofy grinning idiot sitting close to him would never understand him.

It wasn't the same. Their reasons for disliking the word hero. The gap between them and their ideals wasn't any were close to meeting for empathy to be found. One would forever see the word as an anchor designed to sink its prisoner into an abyss. And one would see it as an ordinary word anyone could take on without any real effort or talent.

His lips were drawn into a flat line. The young child who had seen far too much of the cruel world of adults and grown a hateful bile no innocent youth should have ever felt, pulled his legs up to his chest. His eyes grew solemn, melancholic, with weathered wear reserved only for someone 6 times his age.

"You really don't get it, huh? It's not that I think a hero is someone specifically designed to save others, so why bother myself to do anything at all. My Tou-san was a hero. Everyone believed so. He was the Champion of Nami no Kuni. He wasn't anything special or powerful though; he was a fisherman, nothing more. So, I know anyone can be a hero too. Why else do you think Gato singled him out?"

"…"

"Anyone can be a hero, anyone can stand up to Gato, anyone can step up and fight with their all to protect what matters most to them. So what? Gato made it perfectly clear being a hero wasn't anything special right in front of my eyes. But that's not why I hate heroes. It's because they're fucking selfish."

At last, at long last, from the deep tarry depths of his being, the core of it all was fished out willingly by the drowning child.

"Being a hero isn't so hard, but the price to be paid? The hurt left behind when you can't live up to the image others had of you? The disappointment waking in your failure? The people who have to live on with your loss? It isn't fair; it isn't fair that those of us who had no desire to share that kind of weight have to put up with it because you couldn't keep your promise. I love my Tou-san but I hate how he chose to become the hero for everyone else as if it wasn't a big deal. He took all that weight until he was crushed beneath it all without a thought as to what would happen to us. If he'd only just stayed my hero, and only my hero instead of being so selfish…"

Thin lips quivered with emotion as Inari's voice began to crack.

"If Tou-san had only focused on saving us instead of everyone else back then, then he'd still be here. Maybe he wouldn't be brave. Maybe he wouldn't be remembered as Nami no Kuni's Champion. But even if he had run away with his tail tucked beneath his legs like some ugly, sniveling-faced coward, he'd still be my hero."

No tears followed his words. At some point, he felt he had run out. Nothing but an ugly truth spitting his father's memory and actions leaked out.

With it out in the open to Nami no Kuni's newest hero, to the inheritor of his father's spirit, Inari expected a lot of things. Words he could already guess. Things his father would have said. Maybe something he was hoping to be said to help him get rid of this bile in his chest.

"So, that's what I was missing? Then...aren't I the same?"

"Huh?"

A look of odd realization came across Touma's face. The silly grin he had previously worn had slipped away, falling away to reveal something new.

Blank.

An expression lost to what to feel, empty and worn out. Almost as if he had just tossed aside a heavyweight he'd been lugging around for who knows how long and couldn't express how to feel now that it was gone.

When Touma spoke, he spoke wistfully as his eyes wandered over to the newly stitched school uniform he claimed was his.

"You know, I had a selfish hero too. One I think I felt the same way you do when thinking about your Tou-san. A bright, kind, courageous, strong, resilient, cool, and awesome memory I've always been chasing after for the longest time. I still am. He even had a story worthy of labeling him as some kind of champion too...Do...do you want to hear it?"

Inari bit his lip apprehensively. For some reason, he felt it was important to nod. As if doing so would help to relieve the tightness in the normally friendly and idiotic boy's expression.

With a deep breath, Touma spoke.

He spoke of a bittersweet story better fit for the pages of some fairy tale.

Of an unlucky boy.

Of an innocent girl.

Of an unforgettable summer.

Of two different worlds.

Of a fateful encounter never meant to have been made.

Of a story, he'd never been brave enough to ever retell to another soul in fear of revealing the dirty lie he'd been keeping up for so long.

Though he'd kept the matters of Science and Magic out, he regaled the silent and wide-eyed Inari with the story of The Unlucky Boy and The Grimoire Library. He told the story of this great hero who shone so brightly at the very end, he had defeated the systems of a silent god and rescued the memories of the sweet girl who had fallen into his life and made him smile along with protecting the so-called 'villains' of the story from having to keep up the never-ending cycle of loss. There were parts he had to be a little creative about when telling the story, some parts he wasn't sure of himself or believed, and he even felt he stumbled here and there as he retold everything from the memory of a measly letter lacking all the finer details.

The Memory Destruction...even now, even if they weren't here to hear it, he found he still couldn't confess. Even if it could help cross the distance between Inari and himself.

But he told Kamijou Touma's story.

And at the end of it, he sat back with a heavy sigh containing all the tension he accumulated since putting on that high school boy's facade.

"And he died."

Just like the story of Nami no Kuni's champion, the hero of the story had died. It didn't matter that one had achieved a happy ending and the other didn't. In the end, both those cherished shadows had been lost.

"Even as he achieved what others would say is a happy ending, he still died that night. Because he died, because of his actions and promises, I decided to step up in his place. Because I couldn't bear the thought of those he left behind continuing with tears on their faces. And ever since then, I've had to play his role. I've had to act like he had. For so long, I've been trying to imitate that hero's shadow for the sake of others that...that I'm afraid I might have tossed aside my own at times. Hell, I wonder if he would have ever grown so blind to rage and hate that he would have seriously considered killing even someone like Gato. All this time, I've been trying to do right by my hero for everything he's done for me and for giving me the life I have now...but...at times...I hate him too; I hate the bastard who had tossed aside his own life playing the selfish hero and leaving this lousy faker to carry all his debts in his place like it wasn't a big deal."

Where did Kamijou Touma begin, and where did Kamijou Touma end?

Like a snake eating its own tail, he was sure it would only devour him whole if he picked it apart.

To reach some kind of ground where even a sprout of empathy could be found to prevent the spiteful boy's hand from sinking back into the abyss, he would reveal his own darkness too.

"I didn't have to pick up where he left off. No one would have held it against me if I had told them the truth back then. Maybe things would have been easier for me if I had simply been honest from the start. But because I had nothing to reference, no ties, no sympathy or empathy for those who had unknowingly lost someone precious to their lives, I listened to my heart."

"Your heart?"

The way Inari's face scrunched up in almost a cross of disbelief and cringe made Touma laugh a bit. Yeah, it did sound rather cheesy.

"I stumbled into the shadow of a remarkable hero by pure chance and had no idea what to do. So, I just listened to the echoes of that liar's beats I had scrounged up and went from there. Justice didn't matter, guilt didn't matter, hatred didn't matter, grief didn't matter; just like back then, I stepped up because I couldn't ignore the tears on someone's face and how it tore me up inside. Maybe...maybe that's what Kaiza-san had been feeling too."

Hearing his father's name spoken so softly by the faker should have caused the bile in Inari's chest to sputter hotly.

But that bile toiling away at his chest...it didn't originate from his heart. Such a sickening poison was merely a festering element of grief, anger, sorrow, and hate that had bled from a wound he had never allowed to close. It was no different than blood.

Instead, at the words spoken of by an older boy who had wandered into the dusty spotlight of a champion, Inari found himself searching into his heart.

What would he feel if he bothered to listen to his heart instead of the agony born from his past?

'…I don't like it.'

It wasn't anger or despair he found but dislike. When he thought about his father's death, his mother's grief, his grandfather's exhaustion, his people's fear, and those demons' glee, he found he didn't like the feeling he had buried underneath all the cynicism and hatred he had piled on.

In fact-

"-t ..others m-..."

"Hm?"

Something had been said incredibly low beneath Inari's breath.

Inari shook his head, refusing to say it again.

"All done!"

"Seconds!"

Attention was taken away from the silent boy by the call of Tsunami and Otohime from behind. Setting his school uniform down, Touma glanced back at the pleased mother(ignoring how she swiftly and nonchalantly swatted aside greedy Otohime's attempts to steal bits of his food) and immediately zoned in on the hot plate of food in her hands. His mouth watered as his stomach rumbled.

All this heavy talk and opening his heart to a long-held secret stuff really built up an appetite. And as a homeless Kamijou with not a note of yen(wasn't it called Ryo here?) to his name, he would savor every free meal offered to him while he could.

With a gentle pat on Inari's head, Touma gave the still-puzzled boy a simple smile.

"Look, don't worry about it. I don't expect you to magically come to terms with everything you've been through thus far. Admittedly, I'm pretty impatient and am the type to think things can be resolved with one punch. In the end, only you can decide whether you're in the right; don't apologize for listening to your heart, okay?"

It was okay to stop here and let it be.

There was no need to continue pushing further.

This wasn't a life or death battle where a smile was at threat of being completely lost.

A lesson was to be learned here for Touma: it was perfectly alright for his words to not have any effect the first time. Or the second time. If he felt bad or disappointed, that was okay too. Unlike all his previous bouts against a great deal of supernatural threats he had stumbled upon because of his luck, this was merely a matter they could both continue and talk about when they had time. Especially now that Inari was willing to speak to him.

With a slight groan and an irritated growl as he once again scratched the underside of his itchy jaw, Touma got up. It was breakfas-

Knock, Knock, Knock!

"Hmm?"

A rapid series of knocks at the front door stopped Touma as he made his way to Tsunami by the dining room. Seeing her motion to set down his meal and grab the door, he gestured for her to stop. She had gone through the trouble of remaking his breakfast twice. The least he could do was see who was at the door since he was already up.

"I got it. I think it might be Gaze-san and Anmi-san anyway. Who knows? Uzumaki-san might have forgotten a few of his ninja tools in his rush. I swear when I see that loudmouth bra-"

Hand grasping the handle of the door, Touma's words were caught off as the knocking grew louder.

Loud in the explosive sense of the door being completely smashed through. Not a second later did the uproarious burst of force and wooden shrapnel assault the stunned Touma with what felt like a buckshot of a shotgun to the chest.

[-]

Specks of blood flew farther than one would expect to hit Inari's deathly numb face.

A body was blasted off their feet and sent rolling far into the living room. Trails of black smoke followed behind them as the scent of gunpowder filled the home. Small orange-red embers gnawed at the now open wide front door and spread about in small patches of weak fire.

Inari felt a cold sweat come over him as the world lost all sound. Mutely, he slowly traced the black smoke lines to the body that had eaten a direct hit of whatever blast had opened a burnt gaping hole at the front of his home.

Kamijou Touma, the older boy who had wandered into his life with an irritating smile, struggled to get back up after being struck by whatever had obliterated the front door of their home. His arms quivered as he fought to push his smoke-wafting body up, his dark blue eyes glaring with wilting determination as burns marred his face. Bits of wooden shrapnel were dug into his body and his head had suffered a glancing blow that gashed the side of his forehead, leaking red syrup onto the wooden floorboards.

The determined scowl was ruined by the bulge in Touma's throat, shortly followed by the sight of the older boy burping up a thick and sticky blob of deep red with an ugly wet splat.

"KAMIJOU-KUN!"

"RYU-SAMA!"

Unlike himself, his mother and the annoying fish girl, Otohime, had immediately rushed over to Touma's side. They didn't care about the bloody vomit staining his chin, their hands gingerly reaching for the still smoke-wafting teen as if their actions would ease his agony. Tears pricked at their wide eyes, their shoulders trembling as they solely focused on their injured hero who found it difficult to even speak through the hacking sputters of red on his lips.

Inari couldn't see it, but he could tell.

The frontal blast had struck Touma directly in the chest. Meaning beneath the now-tattered dark blue vest he wore was a nasty mess of burns, shrapnel, and blood. It was a miracle he was even conscious after eating the explosive force.

What...what happened?

Just a moment ago, everything had been peaceful. Sure, he had been mulling over some heavy matters he hadn't wanted to touch, but he felt some things had grown a bit clearer for him. He had actually sat down with the faker and talked. He had felt the bile in his chest begin to settle. Maybe even drain out a bit. He hadn't snapped, shouted, or raged in a rant that made his eyes burn hotly.

For a split second, he felt things were alright for once.

So, what had happened?

"Sigh. I said show restraint. Gato-sama instructed us to capture the target alive. If that had been the woman just now, you would met the same fate as the rest of the people of this doomed nation. Seems even a beast like you has some kind of wicked god watching out for you; you only harmed the-...well, isn't this a nice surprise? I do believe we've stumbled upon Nami's newly minted champion."

"Kekekekekekekekakaka! Oh, shit! You mean the monster who pillaged our old little funhouse?! Can you believe it?"

"Seriously? Ha! Serves the bitch right! I lost some primo merchandise in the collapse! And I had just been about to break in a new mouth we had just nabbed before some raven-haired brat ruined all the fun! I fucking lost my right eye! But now, we can get some payback, kekekekekekeka!"

Three figures stepped through the open gape of smoke and lingering embers.

Shinobi.

The title came to the forefront of Inari's mind as the leading figure's very posture, his clothing and light armor, and aura simply screamed shinobi. He wore a long-sleeved jacket adorn with light armor on his forearms, knees, and the back of his dark gloved hands. His facial expression was hidden by the metal-platted straw hat on his head and the chain mail-like face mask concealing his lower face. Each step he took should have caused the sound of metal chains and weapons on his person to rattle but only a deathly silence could be heard as he stepped into Inari's home in the wake of fire and smoke.

Lagging behind the tall mysterious attacker were thugs. Ordinary, brutish, lanky, bald-headed, and shaven, thugs wielded small farming sickles. Like hyenas following their alpha, the two ugly-faced thugs walked behind the shinobi's shadow with pleased grins bared with sadistic joy.

They were Gato's men.

Breaking down his door with little care and dark and twisted teeth bared in crescents were the demons who had stolen and slaughtered his happy world long ago.

Inari couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He couldn't move.

All he could do was shake in place like a terrified puppy confronted by a pack of hungry wolves.

The head of the small party of demons, the shinobi, regarded the damage of the explosion briefly before focusing on the damaged spiky teen on the floor of the living room.

"Kamijou, correct? While I never got to meet you personally, Gato-sama has certainly said a lot about you. I expected someone bigger. Fiercer. Stronger. Yet all it took was one explosive tag from an impatient idiot to make you crumble? I don't know whether to laugh or scoff."

A sharp, gleaming kunai was swiftly slipped out of the confines of the shinobi's sleeve.

"Sadly for you, you've already lost your popularity with our lord. Just like all of Nami no Kuni's worthless people, your life no longer holds value. Though lobbing off that head of yours may as well constitute a sizable little bonus if presented to him."

"Oh! What's that over there? Is that a sweet girl too? Hey, hey Ku! Did Gato say anything about taking the blue chick alive?!"

Though even the color of his eyes was shrouded by the shadow cast by the wide brim of his armored straw hat, they could all sense the now-named shinobi, Ku, narrow his eyes tensely.

It wasn't simply Inari whose body had locked up in fright.

For reasons Inari didn't understand, Otohime had frozen perfectly still. As she had been trapped in some silent illusion.

"So, you did survive after all? Reign whatever demented desires you're licking your lips over. We continue to stumble upon extra prizes in our simple little mission. The original insurance plan may have lost its splendor and value after all these years, but there may still be some use to her. After all…"

From Ku's left wrist, a note of sand-colored paper was slipped out no differently than a deadly kunai. Strange characters were brushed on the paper in ink and held between his fingers like it held the ability to do as much damage as his weapon.

"It seems the little shark has forgotten where she stands. The original seals may have been damaged but I only need a few tweaks here and there to have her submit back to her master."

There was no cry of freight or horror at the shinobi. No panic. No trembling. No sobs.

Only a blank hysteria silenced the empty-eyed Otohime who didn't even have the strength to step back as her tormentor looked her way. A hollow puppet lacking human warmth or light.

"Don't you dare touch her!"

Leaping up to her feet, Inari's mother stood in the way of Ku and his thugs, cutting them off from even eyeing either Otohime's frozen form or Touma's bloodied body. With a scary glare Inari had never seen, she showed no fear to the demons as she spread her arms wide like a holy cross.

"I don't know who you are, or what you want! But I won't fucking stand by as you touch a single hair on-"

"We don't care about those two. Or even the sniveling brat off to the side. We're here for you, Tsunami-san."

Now it was Tsunami's turn to freeze up. The sharp kunai was leveled to be aimed at her face as the two ugly thugs by Ku's side began to laugh.

"You slow in the head? Who do you think we are?"

"Gato's sent us, duh! He's been wanting to meet the fine daughter of Nami's resident architect for a while now. He just wants to speak to you about having a little lunch date is all."

Ku continued to step forward, closing the distance between Tsunami until only a foot stood in their way. All while keeping his ninja knife up and the seal in his free hand low.

"While the head of the new champion, and Gato's faded insurance net, are extra prizes I intend to nab, they are not the main priority right now. We have strict instructions: capture the daughter of Tazuna."

"M-Me?"

"Of course. You are a lovely prize meant to bring nostalgia to Gato-sama's heart whenever he...enjoys you after Nami no Kuni is burnt to the ground. A reminder of the nation's first champion, and the annoying bridge builder, for him to nibble on whenever he feels like going back to those glory days. I do not intend to harm you." Ku promised sternly, "You are a valuable sweet. Not even the lecherous pigs at my command will so much as touch you."

"Tch!"

"I fucking swear, I better not miss out on the pillaging when we're done!"

"The same can not be said about everyone else. If anything, I only intend on keeping the girl alive. Kamijou-san's head is mine; the brat can be drowned for all I care."

The threat to Inari's life was what caused visible fear to strike Tsunami's posture. Her complexion grew a deathly white and it seemed she couldn't even breathe. From out of the corner of her eyes, she looked to her scared only son and found her quivering eyes blurring with tears.

Tsunami grit her teeth. Slowly, she opened her lips and bowed her head-

"T-Tsunami...d-don't...listen to them!"

"Keep quiet."

Ku vanished in an instant, appearing right behind the petrified Otohime and shaken Tsunami without a sound. With a lift of his left leg, he slammed the heel of his foot deep into the spine of the spiky teen. An unpleasant pop was heard.

"GGGGGYAAAAAAHHH!"

"Kamijou-san!"

As Tsunami spun around in worry, she found Ku's kunai now kissing the space between her brows. Fine, cold steel pricked her cold skin. She couldn't help but stop dead as her voice was trapped in her tight throat.

Ku kept his foot planted in Touma's spine, nailing the squirming body down with some added pressure to threaten to break a bone.

"I won't repeat myself: we're here for you. Nothing else genuinely matters other than your capture. I don't have to kill, I rather not kill; too messy. But if you want to continue wasting my time, I might as well remind you what happens to those who think it be fun to challenge Gato-sama's demands."

I'll kill him.

I'll kill them all.

No jokes, no games, no teasing, no idle threats.

At that moment, Tsunami was reminded of the dread and cruelty once engulfing her homeland. She was reminded of the demons who ran amok outside her home. The blood. The tears. The smell of death.

The weak and fading smile of a beloved man who held her heart.

Tsunami's lips trembled and a sob was choked back. She swallowed the thick mass of despair and took a shaken breath in and out.

Once upon a time, the young wife had been too weak and terrified to do a damn thing to protect someone she loved. She couldn't rise up to the occasion. She had believed she couldn't do anymore than wait for someone to save everything she held dear.

"T-Tsunami…"

"K-Kaa-san?"

"…"

Two words. Two words wormed their way up her throat and-

Tsunami beat down the ugly weakness rising up her mouth. She didn't cry or even allow her eyes to grow blurred with hot tears.

She smiled.

A strained, tight, forced, crumbling smile no one would believe as true or genuine. But she smiled in the face of the decision she had come to.

"Okay, I'll go with you. But please, don't hurt them. I'll do whatever you want, go wherever you want, and do whatever you like; just leave them alone and I'll do as you want."

She gave in to the demands of Gato's demons. To the realization, she would be taken away as some prize. To be used. To be played with. To be tainted. To be no more than some keepsake not even fit to be broken and tossed aside.

Tsunami resigned herself to the great demon lord, who had killed her husband, her family, and friends, terrified her child into hating the very thought of salvation, and forced her old and weary father to take up arms, with a weak smile of defeat without even a tear in her screaming heart.

Because...because this was the least she could do to match the shadow of her beloved husband.

In response to her submission, someone acted.

Violently.

The stern food nailing Touma down was jolted up by a fierce push of the boy's back, stunning Ku momentarily. He hadn't been expecting the kind of strength to push him off. With a tsk, the deathly steel fang in his hand spun like a disk and swept at the rising troublemaker.

Touma snarled like a blood-spattered beast from a trap, ducked low beneath the slash, and cocked his raging right fist back for a devastating uppercut.

He never landed the hit.

Raging muscles bursting with adrenaline seized up mid-swing. An uncomfortable tightness overwhelmed Touma's entire body as he seemed to lose all momentum and freeze up like he had been struck by an ice spell.

He couldn't see it but the flimsy sandpaper note fluttered away from Ku's left hand and stuck itself on his kneecap. Like magic, his entire body was locked into place and refused to budge.

Face stuck in a bestial snarl of anger, all Touma could do was watch as the looming shadow of a hard-knuckled fist raced toward his face. His nose was smashed, blood swam out in a splatter of red, and his body was once again sent flying with enough force to kick up the unresponsive Otohime's locks of dark blue hair. His back struck the wall of the room, the impact breaking a web of cracks as he crumbled to the floor.

"Kamijou! You son of a-!"

SMACK!

Tsunami's shout was abruptly cut off by the swift backhand of the cool-faced Ku. A similar colored note of paper glued itself to the bright red cheek the shinobi had struck. By the time the stunned mother's body hit the floor, she didn't even have the strength to wiggle a finger. Cruel design only allowed her the ability to vainly speak, her vision drowning with tears as her face was angled in a way for her to stare at the wounded teen a few feet away.

Her lips quivered with a bead of red slipping through the corner of her mouth. Once again, she fought her hardest to bear a strained smile.

"Please, protect Inari-kun for me. You've done all you can, now it's my turn to do all I can for you. So, please watch over my little boy in my stead."

Those steely and bold dark blue eyes grew wide, impossibly wide.

The same hand that had hit her reached for the back of her collar and grasped the back of her shirt like he was picking up trash he was ready to throw out. Grunting at the weight of a full-grown woman, the armored ninja flipped through a series of quick one-handed hand signs. Tsunami's body went slack and dangled.

"I warned you. Consider our promise rescinded. Gato-sama would understand if his property came back a bit damaged here and there. Act disobedient again, and well...you're not a virgin, so I'm sure he wouldn't notice if those two drooling dogs had a little snack for behaving themselves." he said without any remorse in his voice as he gestured for the two lackeys to take her.

The two lesser lackeys were all the more pleased to hear that as they each grabbed one of her arms, fingers brushing against Tsunami's chest as they pulled her along to exit the home.

"Come one, say something! We just want to make you forget about all this fucked up mess by making you feel good."

"If you don't, we'll just have to help you make a sound. Even a guilty moan is acceptable as an invitation!"

Inari's body jerked in both anger and fear as he soon found those cold, unfeeling, dull, empty azure eyes peeking out of the shadow of the straw hat glance his way.

That terrifying, intimidating, cruel, soulless demon took a step towards him. The shadow of a monster who didn't even find pleasure or lust in spilling the blood of his prey fell over him, growing larger and broader with each step taken in his direction. The malice in those empty eyes was different than the demons he'd occasionally seen lurking in his village. It was soulless. Empty. A means to an end.

Inari was scared. He was terrified. His short legs trembled and knocked against one another. He felt his stomach churn and whimpered with a choked sob.

That terrifying horned demon passed by him without a glance. The shadow of death sought another past him.

"It appears I don't even need a Fuinjutsu to keep you from causing trouble. The expression on your face is more fitting; I could never remember seeing anything but such a face back at the compound during my fuin experiments. I'll have to rework the fuin formula once we've returned. We don't need you learning how to use those sharp teeth for anything but our selected targets now, do we."

Silent Otohime didn't put up a fight as strong fingers clamped down on her small neck. Her hollow eyes merely stared emptily at the shinobi who lifted her body like a trout fished out from the river.

A thunderous crack was heard. Something had smashed into the floor with a bang strong enough to break through wooden panels.

Ku quirked a brow, finding a rather scary set of dark blue eyes, seething with hate and absolute rage glaring at him. Bloody teeth were stretched open in a gnashing show of teeth practically screaming for the desire to even bite down on his flesh. The whites of the boy's orbs were streaked with branches of red and the pupils appeared dilated with such ferocity he could have sworn he was meeting eyes with a rabid wild dog infected with rabies.

Had his fuinjutsu been undone? How? No matter, he shook his head with an amused scoff as he turned away from the beaten animal's glare.

"If you follow us, you die. I won't treat you so kindly again. Make no mistake, I will have your head by the end of this. You can run if you're even able, but I will track you down. You escaped Gato-sama's compound under my watch; I won't continue letting you run free, champion."

The disgraced shinobi was confident in the damage he had dealt crippling the ordinary champion. He'd seen the damage of the explosive tag and even went as far as to nearly break the teen's spine. Unless Gato's latest thorn was capable of some kind of adrenaline burst this late at the moment, he had no worries about leaving him behind for now.

Once again, Ku stepped past the sniveling little child practically forgotten in all the chaos. His free hand, slightly stained with blood, softly patted the flinching boy's head like one would a faithful pet.

"Good boy. At least one of you knows their place. Seems you've learned from your Tou-san's past failures; how brave of you."

His words weren't mocking or spiteful. The disgraced shinobi meant them and felt the child should take pride in them. After all, it was said actions that had allowed him to continue breathing without a hair untouched.

With Tsunami in the hands of his two grunts, Ku left the now silent home with no more than a wave to the teary-eyed boy who didn't even have the strength to cry until the shadow of a demon was nowhere in sight.

[-]

'Get up, get up, get up, get up, GETUPGETUPGETUPGETUPGETUPGETUPGETUPGETUUUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPP!'

Touma hacked blood from his lips as he swayed on his feet and pushed off the cracked wall being used as support.

His vision was blurred again. He couldn't make a decent thought. And it felt like the sutures on his side had been torn if not burned. He should be thankful that even after taking an explosive force of heat and sound to the chest hadn't torn a hole through him. The heat searing his pectorals and abdomen wasn't helpful; the many other wounds on his body were nothing compared to that giant pain.

He wasn't sure how, but the odd occult note on his knees had been broken. Was it the ink? He'd been bleeding a lot, so was it possible for his blood to have damaged the strange seals in a strike of luck?

Hah, luck. As if anything unfolding right now could be fortunate.

It had happened so fast that it was hard to comprehend his state. He stumbled, grit his teeth, and walked forward and nearly tripped.

Tsunami had been taken right in front of his eyes by sick-minded monsters who saw her as a plaything to be delivered to Gato. Otohime had been completely petrified by the shinobi with azure eyes and couldn't even make a sound of discomfort as she was lifted up by her small neck. And they expected Touma to just sit idly by without a complaint?

Fuck that!

"K-Kaa-san! I-I'm sorry! Please, g-give h-her back! GIVE ME BACK MY KAA-SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"

That mournful cry from a sobbing child left to watch his mother give herself up for his safety was all the reason Touma needed to push back his own muddled and disoriented thoughts scrambled by pain receptors.

Even as blood seeped down his broken nose, Touma pushed forward and patted Inari's head as he walked ahead, stunning the boy as he stared up at his back with watery red eyes.

"K-Kamijou?"

"Don't worry, Inari. I'll bring you back your Kaa-san. I-I'll...take back Otohime. So, don't cry."

Touma smiled brightly even as his body buckled over as the explosive burst to his abdomen brought him to his knees.

'Shit! It feels like my intestines were squished by a compactor! I can feel the heat of the blast sear my skin off and kiss my muscles. I want to gag and cough up blood but now's not the time. I need to run after those bastards. I need to save Tsunami and Otohime before it's too late!'

Struggling to breathe past haggard pants, Touma tried again to keep his steps steady.

But the world briefly fell away to a flicker of darkness. His recovering body collapsed, too damaged to listen to his commands. With a loud bang, he hit the floor. Cracked fingernails stabbed at the wooden panels, threatening to gouge the surface as the ever-stubborn high schooler fought to push himself back up. His tight, burned chest heaved painfully as even a measly push-up threatened to knock him out.

Was this seriously it? Even after every beating, he's had to endure, even after all the deaths at the hands of a literal God! Was this shitty body, seriously, seriously, seriously, deciding it now couldn't take any more punishment?!

"I SAID, GET UP YOU USELESS, PATHETIC, SHITTY, FUCKING PIECE OF SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!"

Touma howled with all his rage, his hate, his frustration, his pain at the weak body of misfortune.

Even if it was just once more! Just so long as he could get up one more time and make a fist one more time! He'd be fucking fine if it cost him even his life!

Gruesome cracks could be heard as he pushed his body up into a kneeling position. He coughed up another wad of blood. Good; there was less red than last time. Meaning, at least, nothing was fatal-fatal. Just so long as he continued forcing his lousy body to move, he could keep trying until his very being was worn down to nothing!

"Kamijou...wh-"

"I...I said...I said...I said I'd save you. No matter what! I'll save you! So, I can't die here when I haven't even saved Tsunami or Otothime from the mid-way point of my promise!"

"…"

Touma was gasping now, fighting to take in a breath as sweat stung his eyes.

A minute. J- Just a single minute: 60 seconds. If he could just have a single full sixty seconds to breathe and regain his focus, he could muster up the strength to run with all his might and strike down those bastards. So long as he could even make a fist, he could press continue.

So…

[-]

A small hand, trembling with fright that rattled their entire body, landed on Touma's shoulders before he could push his leg up to stand.

A frail little hand swiped away beads of despair and clenched his soft hands tightly enough to create a firm crack.

A small boy, who had every right to cower, to wail, to be frozen by fear, sniffed as they stood up straight amid a tremor in his aching chest.

"I-Inari?"

Something, somewhere, in a place normally quiet and empty with sorrow, a crackle of something hot was heard.

It wasn't heroism. It sure as hell wasn't justice. It wasn't innocent or honorable. Nothing so simple began to sputter in that cynical child's heart until it let out a furious roar.

The boy who decried heroes as selfish and liars grit his teeth as anger now rightfully marred his face. A face, no child not even old enough to properly write, should ever make was bared in a snarl.

"I...fucking can't stand it anymore."

He hissed a new strain of venom from his lips. He spat it out with disgust, loathing how he could still taste it on his tongue.

"Watching, standing, keeping quiet, crying! I'm sick and tired of it!"

Inari's mind flashed with the faces of all those who had been fighting while he had done nothing but cry and cry about the world that left him without a father. He recalled the backs of those who had stood guard over him as he sulked and whined about their efforts and hopes.

The words of a certain orange jumpsuit boy with spiky-blond hair and whiskered cheeks came to mind.

'You can sit around and cry all you want, you big baby! We don't care! Because we're going to save your bawling ass no matter what, datte-bayo!'

The words of a gray-haired shinobi whose only visible facial feature was his sleepy eye came to mind.

'I guess he grew sick and tired of only crying as nothing changed around him. He grew strong on his own, a strength not unlike your Tou-san. Maybe that's why he can't seem to ignore you; in his own Naruto-way, he's simply concerned about you and wants you to smile.'

Finally, the words of the normal-faced dark spiky spiky-haired teen struggling to stand up and fight came to mind.

'I stumbled into the shadow of a remarkable hero by pure chance and had no idea what to do. So, I just listened to the echoes of that liar's beats I had scrounged up and went from there. Justice didn't matter, guilt didn't matter, hatred didn't matter, grief didn't matter; just like back then, I stepped up because I couldn't ignore the tears on someone's face and how it tore me up inside. Maybe...maybe that's what Kaiza-san had been feeling too.'

Without his noticing, cracks had been made in his ideals. Now those cracks grew deep as fissures and finally shattered in a resounding bark ripping free from that hopeless child.

To the bloodied teen who had promised to save him and his family from a demon lord and his men, the tiny village boy stepped up

A new emotion was sparked in his chest and completely incinerated the viscous bile he was too scared to part with.

Heart spurned by the new fire flowing through his veins, Inari moved and ran.

But not at the shadows of Gato's demons. No, as a normal boy who wasn't a supernatural ninja, a martial artist, or a prodigy of any sort, he knew courage alone wouldn't grant him a miracle. He wasn't so hot-blooded or eager to die. As someone who could hardly make a fist, he had to think carefully.

So, he ran back to where the shinobi had been sleeping. Caring little for their privacy, he hurriedly sought out any weapons or tools left behind by the deadly fighters. It didn't matter if he wasn't trained on how to use anything he could use to do any kind of damage. Kunais, shurikens, caltraps, wire, explosive tags, smoke bombs, whatever. Tiny hands stole whatever he could stuff into the pockets of his overalls.

Every moment counted. He had no idea how long it had been since the shinobi and his grunts had stolen his mother and Otohime, they couldn't have gone too far; right? Dread immediately pricked at his heart as Inari tossed aside whatever ninja junk he couldn't carry.

He had weapons. He wasn't entirely sure how to use them but he needed something to make up for his lack of fighting skills or supernatural power. Since his family wasn't one for weapons of any kind, he would have to make do with the strange blades and traps in or-

Wait, no, wait. Inari stopped just short of running out the blasted open door of his home.

There...there was a weapon, one he was familiar with, that his grandfather kept in his room. One only certain fishermen were capable of using.

"Please, please, please! It has to be- Yes! And if I use this with this, and this with that! Maybe...maybe if the bolts were tied with...it works!"

Excitement was felt in the scared boy's being. He wasn't even sure what he was doing or thinking anymore. His hands were moving in a blur. Small cuts stung his soft fingers and palms.

A new weight fell into Inari's hands. It didn't weigh him down in the slightest as all he could feel rushing through him was adrenaline. He left behind what he couldn't carry on his person and turned for the front door.

"I-Inari...what are...you doing?"

This time the small back of a child stared down the bloody Kamijou struggling to keep his flickering eyes open. An odd shape was held in the tight grip of the eight-year-old. Were those...bolts?

"I...I don't know. There's so much going on right now and I feel like puking. I'm terrified, and I want to cry and beg for someone to save me!"

So, say it. Right here and now, say you need to be saved! Stop acting out of character with a fucking crossbow and sharp ninja knives stuffed into your tiny pockets like you're going to fucking war! Kick this shitty beaten body, so that he could muster up just enough strength to keep fighting!

Inari didn't glance back, focused straight ahead on the open door, marred by burns and dying embers amid black stained shards of his door. His voice wasn't firm. It wavered and sounded like he was doing his best to stop from sobbing.

Just before the damn over his eyes could breathe, he heard a certain one-eyed shinobi's words surface.

"Only you and this people's nation can save yourselves. We can defeat the demon lord and his army if need be but it is up to the people of the conquered land to pick up the pieces and ensure a similar demon lord doesn't rise or resurrect in the end. The hard work left behind at the battle's end is not our responsibility. We are here to protect one man and his bridge; you want the nation saved? Then start taking after that Tou-san of yours and fight with everything you have to save that which you care for most. It should be easy."

Kakashi gave the wide-eyed child a patented eye smile.

"After all, a powerless and weak boy was able to defeat the demon lord's forces and take out a few of his top men all on his own. So, it should stand to reason that even a drunk old man like your grandfather can stand up and bust the demon lord's face if he wants to. Why can't you?"

"I don't know what to do anymore! So, I'll listen to my heart and act from there! Just like you; just like Tou-san!"

Momentary strength surged into Touma's aching body as he tried lunging towards the small boy.

"YOU IDIOT! WHAT THE HELL A-!"

Touma's body collapsed again as he stretched his hand out, fingers slipping after the tiny back now stepping away.

A right hand carrying misfortune hit the floor, never once stopping in vain to stretch out and grasp the boy leaving his sights.

[-]

He wasn't sure where the demons would be but Inari found himself grinning a strange grin as he ran out and quickly found Gato's men on the wooden dock connected close to his home. A moderately sized fishing boat was still tied to the post. They hadn't even boarded yet and had only thrown Otohime's unresponsive body on board like a sack of potatoes.

Inari's blood boiled. They hadn't even noticed him. In fact, the two lanky demons were busy touching his dear mother as if they were trying to load her on when they were just fondling her! The scary shinobi didn't bat an eye at their giggles and his mother's cries, his eyes cold and focused on staring at Otohime.

'Listen to your heart, huh?'

Right now, Inari's heart was shouting with rage. It told him to load the iron-tipped bolt into his grandfather's crossbow and take aim.

Did you know? Fishing wasn't locked down to merely the old rod and bait. One didn't need to learn how to fish with a stick, string, hooks, and worms. Even one's hand would do. A spear was just as good. And for certain people like Inari's grandfather, you could learn how to fish with something as strange and out of place as a crossbow.

Crossbows were designed for hunting. Why was it so strange for the target to include sea creatures?

Or demons?

Finger tensely on the trigger, Inari fired.

A heavy bolt streaked through the air towards its target: a perversely grinning thug with his hands reaching around for his mother's chest! Metal stabbed into the back of the thug's shoulder blade.

"FUUUUUCK!"

Inari clicked his teeth. Sights were off; he'd been aiming for the back of the piece of shit's skull. Not to mention he was accustomed to lighter bolts whenever his grandfather was teaching him how to handle it.

Shouting in agony at the metal tip deep in his shoulder, the bald thug let go of his mother and tried to rip the bolt out. Too bad for the monster. The tips of the heavy bolts were designed to hook deep into the meat to be better reeled back. Aaaaaaaaand telling by how the shout fell away into a bloody cry as the idiot managed to pull it out, the hooked bolt tore out an ugly bloody hole.

Adrenaline, panic, and anger told him he couldn't allow himself to savor the hit. By the time the other thug had tossed aside his mother(further pissing him off), Inari had already loaded a new bolt. Knitting string could be seen tied crudely around the bolt as it was fired.

A dark-gray ball bounced behind the fired bolt as it sailed low for the thugs' legs. It missed.

The second thug grinned nastily as he twirled his sickle.

"Ha! You missed, you little piss-ant!"

The dark gray colored ball tied to the bolt fell off the string. And let out an audible crack.

Instantly, a large volume of smoke was released with a snake-like hiss, pouring out a gray cloud from right beneath the stunned thug's feet.

"A fucking smoke bomb?! Where di-"

Inari couldn't pause, couldn't breathe, couldn't falter now. With practiced ease, he loaded a lighter bolt and shot the now-blinded bastard through the curtain of smoke slowly enveloping the scene. He didn't need to aim for anything specific. The far faster ammunition struck a random spot on the thug's body, telling by the shriek of pain. It must have been somewhere sensitive for the man's voice to go so high; ha!

With another bolt loaded in as he ran forward through the fog of smoke, Inari held his breath and readied himself for the next move. Sharp metal sliced through the veil of smoke. The sharp fang of a sickle sliced Inari's cheek, drawing a small spray of blood from the split skin. Dread pricked his heart in the moment.

No, no! He couldn't freeze up now.

Clumsily, his free hand reached for his pocket as he fired a shot at the shadow of his attacker. He missed completely as the shrouded thug expertly dodged the close-range attack. Feeling smug at the cowering boy, the thug charged in with another wild swipe of the farming tool. It was only because of all the smoke blocking their view that Inari was able to evade the cleaving weapon and only suffered a glancing scratch on his shoulder. Inari's fingers were pricked by sharp metal, drawing a muffled cry. He tried twisting out of the way of a long-reaching slash, only to fail as the cruel crescent blade cut one of the straps of his overalls and scored a nasty gash on his left shoulder as he tossed the items in his hand out like confetti.

Again, the thug moved to attack and took a large step forward, intent on just swiping wildly until he scored a hit.

Below the shadow of his foot, a strange bundle of spikes gleamed. Flesh was pierced by the cold metal of an inch-long caltrop.

Another bolt was fired at the hopping thug, striking the man in the chest and sending him falling back.

Inari let out a gasp of breath, coughing as some of the smoke entered his lungs. His eyes watered as he ran out of the cloud of smoke, dropping off several more caltrops behind him like they were jacks.

Two, that made two. Right? They had to be done after taking several crossbow bolts. He couldn't see the shadow of those demons running about and chasing him. Cleaning the blood from his stinging cut, Inari searched for his mother and Otohime.

"Impressive, boy. I was expecting the newly minted champion to run out and attack. Seeing you come rushing out; I didn't see it coming."

Howling wind was heard, striking Inari like he had been lashed by the winds of a storm. He grit his teeth as he felt his feet skid back and the smoke clear away. He struggled to see past the strong gale and keep his feet grounded until it stopped.

When all was clear, Inari didn't hesitate to swing the sights of his crossbow in the direction of the powerful wind. He didn't dare see if the thugs were back up, focused on the much bigger demon.

Ku, the cold azure-eyed disgraced shinobi, stood at the front of the sailing boat. In all the fighting, he had taken hold of Tsunami and set her beside Otohime. Visible wind could be seen around his right arm from the aftereffects of a wind-based ninjutsu and a flapping scroll.

The shinobi's expression didn't change in the slightest. Not even as he noticed the two thugs he had brought along struggle to get back on their feet. From the sound of it, he had seen the attack coming but had simply misjudged who the attacker would be.

"I had taunted the hero to force him into following after us, use those idiots to whittle him down a bit, and then take his head as intended. Seems I misjudged his determination. No matter; I can always come back to finish the job. At the very least, I won't have to share a boat with those two pigs - you're an amateur, aren't you? Would this be your first real fight? Here, let me teach you a lesson."

From his sleeve, two four-pointed star-shaped disks flew out. Inari was too slow and too frightened to dodge as they flew-

THNK!

THNK!

Past him and struck the foreheads of the wounded thugs as they weakly stood back up. The shurikens stabbed through bone to pierce the pink muscle tissue of their brains, killing them instantly.

Ku spoke callously as he spun a kunai idly in his free hand to the death of his comrades.

"It's not over until your prey is dead, little hunter. Such softness will get you killed in this world of death and betrayal. Take note of it. Next time, I won't be so kind as to teach you such a lesson without earning it through your blood and gore."

"Give them back."

"Oh? Are you threatening me now? Even after giving you such valuable advice and sparing your life? Ungrateful boy. And here I thought you'd take my kindness to heart and learn better than to follow after the steps of your poor father."

A bolt streaked past Ku's neck, face still nonchalant as ever.

"Give you a few more years of practice and polish, and you might have sliced an artery with a glance. You have a slight promise. Continue snapping at your seniors though, and that promise will be for nothing."

"Shut the fuck up, and give me back my Kaa-san and the fish brat! Or I swear to god, I'll kill you!"

"You do realize the only reason why you continue to breathe is because I'm killing time? Trust me, I'm in no rush to return to back to the village at the moment. If you're going to take my advice at all, take this: leave this nation. All that's going to be left behind is ash not even fit to nurture the earth. Everything will be razed in flames and the cackle of laughter. I'd rather not bother with the festival of 'fun' those demons are having right now."

Inari didn't care, ignoring how his heart jumped at the mention of demons and his village in flames. All he could care about now was his mother and Otohime. He could deal with whatever followed next once they were safe.

Ku sighed at the sight of another, much heavier, bolt being loaded by the furious boy. The kunai in his hand continued spinning with the sound of a revolving fan.

"I'm not a fan of killing children. Even I have my standards when the prey is only in the single digits. I don't need to bother with you; you're not important nor are you a threat. Meaning I don't need to engage."

With a mere swipe, the rope tying the boat to the dock was severed. Released from its restraints, the boat steadily moved away with the push of the waves guiding it out into the waters.

Panic struck Inari as the boat holding his mother began to leave. His small feet ran after the vessel as he set his sights on the straw hat-tipping shinobi.

"Get back here, you bastard! Don't you dare run away!"

"Yes, yes, I'm running away from the scary eight-year-old with the lousy aim. I'm shaking in my boots. Truly there is nothing I can do to combat such a deadly threat, so I have no choice but to turn tail. Scary, scary~"

Pure rage and anger commanded Inari to fire a volley of bolts at the smug-faced Shinobi. Every shot missed. What few shots came close to sticking into the bastard were dodged by a measly tilt of the calm demon's figure. No matter how carefully he aimed, the type of ammunition used, or how much he wanted it, none of his wild shots did so much as scratch his target.

And with each missed bolt, the boat carrying his mother and Otohime grew further and further away. Until a good two yards separated them from the dock.

Inari wasn't a shinobi. He hadn't been trained how to unlock his chakra. He wasn't able to channel and control the supernatural life energy in his body to defy common logic and law to walk on water and chase the target of his rage. No matter what he did or said, he couldn't simply step on water like some kind of miracle.

All the teary-eyed boy could do was watch as one of Gato's demons slowly sailed away from his life.

Finally, after so long, the cynical child had mustered up the courage to listen to his heart and act. For once, he wiped his tears aside. He didn't complain. He didn't blame anyone. When confronted with something he couldn't stand or accept, he actually acted to get rid of the sick feeling in his chest.

He thought finally acting and listening to his heart would fix everything. That he would follow in his father's footsteps.

Instead, he found only despair, no different than the kind of despair his father must have felt as his body was publicly displayed for execution to the world. His knees struck the ground, eyes teared up, unable to do a thing as what he wanted to protect most of all was taken from him.

Leaving him all alone. Again.

"K-Kaa-san…"

It didn't matter how well he had acted. Just wanting to be a hero didn't mean absolute victory was assured. Failure would come even to those with the purest of intentions. Merely gaining the resolve to fight would never assure any kind of reward in return.

He felt the same flavor of despair and grief as his father had, its gritty taste bringing him to his knees. His knees were scraped by the rough wood of the deck. Blood seeped out.

His mother was leaving his sights, taken away to a place where she could never comfort him or soothe his boo-boos ever again.

Just like back then, when he witnessed his father executed before his eyes, a guttural cry was spat out and-

"Quit it with the tears already, you crybaby! Jeez, you were looking awesome just a second ago. Don't just give up now!"

Orange. An annoyingly bright and out-of-place blur of orange.

Eyes blurred by tears, Inari still made out the familiar tangerine color dash past him like a rocket.

A blue sandaled foot fell away from the deck and struck the waves of ocean water below. The foot did not sink. A splash was not heard. If one were to look closely at the bottom of the foot, ghostly blue energy could be seen on the sole of the foot as it made a firm step with just a small ripple.

From out of nowhere, Uzumaki Naruto, Konohagakure's #1 Knuckled-headed ninja, landed on the scene with a fierce grin.

"Don't admit defeat too soon. I told you before, I'm going to save you! Like it or not, I'm going to save you!"

An explosive splash of waves erupted under the spiky-blond boy's foot as he dashed forward upon the water. His control over his insanely large reserves of chakra had finally been tempered just right, allowing him to do the impossible and give physics a big old middle finger. Unstable waves now became like a smooth road with no bumps on his feet as he ran with all his speed at the boat leaving to the open waters of Nami no Kuni.

Ku was caught by surprise by the sudden appearance of the young ninja. He clicked his tongue softly.

"A genin? I thought the Konoha ninja had left an hour ago. No matter."

In the eyes of the experienced rogue shinobi, the new enemy was no more than a random dog appearing on the road. It could bark and snap all it liked. A wolf was far stronger and crueler than a domesticated pet.

One kunai. Nothing more would be needed other than a well-placed kunai throw to the temple.

Seemed the orange boy had a similar plan in mind too as the genin took out five kunai. As if having more knives would do him any good. With a simple throw of his blade, the far faster and more priced ninja tool sailed past the five kunai fired in return.

Ku's kunai struck true before the genin could look fearful. Heavy metal drilled into bone, muscle, and brain tissue with a gory splat-

POOF!

"WHAT?!"

There was no time for confusion as the five kunai the now vanishing genin had thrown struck his boat in various spots with thick thuds.

POOF!

POOF!

POOF!

POOF!

POOF!

Resounding pops alerted the shinobi to the true threat of those supposedly missed kunai. From the puffs of smoke, five stupidly grinning and smug orange blurs came aboard with knives drawn.

"Henge Jutsu?! Wait, solid clones? How does a soft brat like you know the Kage no Bunshin no Jutsu?!"

"Who cares?! What matters right now is beating your stupid face in for daring to touch Inari's Kaa-san and Touma-nii-san's biggest fan! Eat death, sucker!"

From several angles, those wild young shinobi rushed at the cornered Ku with the intent of digging their knives deep into his body. Ku was outnumbered, had nowhere to run, and underestimated his opponent.

Weapons weren't drawn from Ku's sleeve. Abandoning his tools or supernatural tricks to defend himself, he struck back against the five orange foxes with only his open hands.

His left and right hands crossed over his shoulder, catching the wrists of the two clones with just his bare hand. Dulled azure eyes regarded them with little alarm. He crushed the bones of the fakes, earning him pained grunts before he swung them around his body like ragdolls. He didn't let go, batting aside the attacking clones in a whirlwind spin until the two in hand burst into smoke from too much damage. He didn't wait to see if the other three attackers had been stunned, swiping his left hand.

He caught the whistling kunai aimed for the back of his skull, flipped it, and sent it back faster and harder than its original owner. A pop of smoke was heard.

A series of wild punches fell upon him a second later by two whiskered clones. Each blow was easily parried aside with just his wrist careening the force of the amateur aside. Ku didn't even need to move from where he stood, blocking every hit with a tempo. Growing bored, he pushed aside the next far-reaching punch into its mirror image, forcing them to clash their attacks and destroy another.

Weapons or ninjutsu weren't required here. He could destroy everyone in his sight with just mere taijutsu.

Four out of five. So, was the last remaining clone the real brat? Where was the orange boy?

"Heave-ho!"

"Dude! Don't call Inari's mom a hoe! That's not cool!"

"Hey! You're the one making the assumption, you bastard! Wait, you're me, sooooo…"

"Ha, you made a corny joke! It's all you, dude."

"I swear, I'm kicking your ass after this."

"Still you."

"Gah!"

Ku's eye twitched in irritation. Oh, clever little pup. Another diversion. He'd give credit where credit was due.

Turning his back, he found two more spiky-blond whiskered face genin lifting Tsunami and the unresponsive Otohime over their backs. The two boys froze as they were caught, each with a foot on the side of the boat to leap over and escape.

Malice flowed from the azure eyes of the tall shinobi with an aura similar to Kakashi's. The two Naruto clones stiffened as the rogue ninja abandoned his closed fists to stretch out his fingers like claws.

Chakra flowed from the tips of each finger like lit candles.

"I applaud you for the tactic, boy. I shouldn't have overlooked your hand of cards just because of your age; many legendary shinobi were prodigies even at a younger age. Were I to find my throat slit, I'd have only myself to blame for being so arrogant. Let me rectify that."

"Scatter!"

Both Naruto's acted quickly to evade the deadly shinobi's burning chakra-infused strike. Together they, jumped over the boat with a burst of chakra to send them flying.

Swift-clawed fingers swung after the back of one of the boys like a reaping sickle. One fell swoop seared the clothing on the boy's back and engraved a permanent burn on their skin. The swing didn't stop there, Ku's fingers stroking a series of characters on the flesh like it were a burning brush.

Whatever intended effect he was going for in burning a series of symbols on the boy's back was lost. It was just a clone, telling by the damage hitting its threshold and popping.

From the grimacing fake's arms, a blue-skinned girl fell away from the smoke to sink into the cold waters.

"Otohime!"

"Shit!"

Annoyance painted Ku's expression as Otohime sank. Any thought to salvage the drowning girl was tossed aside as the sound of poofs warned him of the creation of more solid clones. Snarling fakers charged at him with reckless abandonment. Unlike before, he didn't bother playing around, striking down each blond with a few blows.

"Don't be so anxious. The girl is from a clan famous for its ability to breathe underwater, conscious or not. She's no different than a coin. A bit wet and damaged but still of use."

"You lousy bastard!"

Ku stabbed his kunai into the neck of the blond, brushing aside the erupting smoke before ramming his knee into the next one.

"Telling by all the fakes, I'm guessing the real brat with the woman is making his escape. Yet you're calling me a bastard when you're leaving the girl to sit at the bottom of the chilly ocean. What if I'm wrong about the child being able to breathe underwater? What if this is a bluff, little ninja? Are you trusting the enemy in front of you over your own village's teachings? How typical of a naive Konoha trash."

"Shut up!"

A diving spiky blond intent on breaking the water's surface was killed by shuriken slicing through his spinal column. Any clones now turning to focus on saving Ototohim's sinking form were swiftly annihilated by the veteran shinobi. Puff after puff of smoke signaling the forbidden technique's destruction littered the surface of the water the shinobi squared off upon.

There were no more games to be played. No more underestimating his target. Those cold and calculative azure eyes darted for every little color of blond, orange, blue, and red hinting at the boy's clothing and immediately acting to see it die in some way. Searching all the while for the true caster of the rare and high chakra-consuming technique through the clouds of smoke.

Intrigue and fascination could be found dying the cold azure orbs.

With one final swipe at the jugular of the tackling image of the spiky blond boy, Ku twisted his left wrist as if to ease some kink in his joint. Light briefly illuminated from the shadows of his sleeve. And from the shadows of said sleeve, metallic clinking was heard.

Back on Tazuna's seaside deck, Naruto carefully set down the still immobilized Tsunami by the sniffling Inari. He looked frustrated and pissed, scratching his head at the strange seals painted on the mother's body like they were binding rope. Even an amateur in fuinjutsu knew it wasn't wise to mess with those deadly characters without risking some kind of repercussion.

Any thoughts on how to free Tsunami were immediately cut off by the odd snag he felt on the back of his shirt. There was no time to react as he felt a powerful tug, fierce enough to nearly tear through his jumpsuit, rip him off his feet, and reel him back like he were some fish caught on a hook.

"Naruto!"

The knuckle-headed ninja cursed loudly from both the slip-up and the painful lurch he felt in his organs by the reeling hook taking him over the seawater with an audible whoosh. It wasn't long until he felt fingers twist him around, the hook slipped off, and powerful and hard fingers lifted him by the neck of his jumpsuit. Had all of his clones been taken out that quickly?!

"Fuin Kai no Jutsu: Rai.(Sealing Release Technique: Lightning)"

A series of characters were illuminated against Naruto from the strong grip of the rogue shinobi before a pop of bluish-white sparks was poured into his body.

"GGGGYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

Curious and fascinated ocean blue eyes stared deep into his cringing blue as Naruto's body twitched and smoked. The electric shock had stunned him, leaving him unable to even squirm.

"Kage no Bunshin no Jutsu. Solid clones. And by my count, you've produced over 37 replicas in a matter of minutes with no visual hint of chakra exhaustion. How interesting. Not even a jonin like myself could hope to pull off such a feat so easily without growing short on breath."

Naruto growled at the tall man with a weird metal straw hat and Kakashi-copying face mask. If his breathing wasn't caught in his throat and his muscles weren't spasming, he'd spit in the bastard's face.

"L-Let me go, you ugly-faced bitch! Or do you want me to kick you in the balls? I'll do it!"

"Jinchuriki."

"!"

Cold dread washed over Naruto as he found his body freezing up. His eyes grew wide in both disbelief and a sense of unfounded fear at the enemy shinobi who gained a familiar knowing glint in his equally blue eyes. One he hadn't recognized could be found in the knowing adults of his village.

"A Konohagakure Shinobi with whiskered birthmarks, and monstrous chakra reserves, under the tutelage of the legendary copy-nin Hatake Kakashi. You should be, at most, twelve; the years match fairly well. What a prize to be found. I dare say, you're far better worth my attention than the potential Tail-less Beast you knocked out of my hand. A few well-placed and developed seals, and perhaps, I could collar you, demon. I always was fascinated by the Yondaime's legendary fuinjutsu, so what luck to have stumbled upon one of his projects for study."

A scary suggestion was said out loud by a human adorning demonic horns. Again, a strange sense of fear struck Naruto and left him dangling as he grits his teeth in a frightened snarl.

From the sleeve of the hand gripping his collar, tar black ink could be seen swimming lazily from the shadows. Characters he'd never seen before slithered out and moved over Ku's hand to seek Naruto's flesh, similar to Tsunami.

"The other asset will be a sorry miss; I spent over a decade trying to convert her into a weapon of sorts for my own agenda but there was always a roadblock hampering my project. But you- a genuine article. I don't even need Gato anymore. You are worth even more to me than the woman or the fish girl. So, consider yourself lucky; you saved the woman and the boy. How heroic of you."

Upon those painted kanji meeting Naruto's skin, an in-explainable sensation seized his muscles. His breath was caught in his throat, leaving him only able to take in air through his nose rather than his clamped mouth. It wasn't numbness locking him up like the burst of lightning, but rather an alien feeling of some invisible force digging through his insides like invading roots to jam his every move. No matter how hard he pushed his body to even twitch his lips, his demands were cut off by the strange kanji.

In other words, he was helpless.

The very thought of being nothing more than a sack of useless meat in the cold blue-eyed shinobi's grip brought a raw and fiery fury to seep into his being. Something new yet familiar, hot and invigorating, began to flow into his jammed muscles. In the back of Naruto's eyes, he felt the hot force flood his iris bit by bit.

But instead of being wary or alarmed by the fiery change slowly coming over him, Ku seemed to grin approvingly.

"Ah, the Kyubi no Yoko. To think my people's treasured beast would fall into my hands. That damn bastard Yondaime."

With his free right hand, Ku flexed his five fingers foreboding. Ghostly blue flames lit the tip of each finger like wicked wicks, shrouding new kanji he gestured he was going run them through the stomach of the boy.

Bright blue eyes, equal in the shade to the bristled and scowling spiky blond boy, gained angry malice as the fuinjutsu specialist spoke bitterly with hate.

"Now, with a a Biju, I-!"

Whatever Ku wanted to say was suddenly cut off as he felt his right hand savagely torn off by a bluish-gray blur leaping out of the water's surface.

Gushing red sprang out in a gory shower.

[-]

She felt nothing.

She heard nothing.

She saw nothing.

She said nothing.

The nameless guppy merely sank into the cold abyss with not a bubble slipping out to break free to the world above. Even with the sun shining beautifully high above, only shadows greeted her as she continued to sink.

Further.

Further.

Further down below.

Deeper.

Deeper.

Deeper still into the deep.

Had the wordless guppy hit the bottom yet? How could it be this deep so close to the shore? How could she still be sinking?

Sinking.

Sinking.

Sinking into the abyss of ocean blue.

Ocean blue like those eyes. Those petrifying eyes.

The Nameless Guppy finally shivered. She finally moved, curling up into a tight, bound ball as her long blue locks flowed out like tentacles. She clamped her body shut into a tight shell, concealing herself like some damaged pearl. She shut her eyes with a cry, tears finally free to slip out only to be drowned by the salty water dragging her away from the bright world above.

Nothing came to mind. Nothing surfaced back up from the deep and terrible abyss of her absent memories at the sight of those ocean-blue eyes staring at her with a cruel sense of curiosity. Not even flashes.

The Nameless Guppy whimpered.

Sharp teeth snapped at the wood.

She couldn't remember anything.

Screams, cries for help, and blood splashed out.

She couldn't remember anything.

Bodies sank, limbs bobbed free from the sea, and red ran out like ink flowing out like underwater fumes.

She couldn't remember anything!

Long fingers, burning with ghostly wicks, seared at her soft mind.

No, no, no, no! Nothing at all escaped from those lost memories she'd never get back!

The Nameless Guppy thrashed about in a frenzy, no longer bound by petrification cast by those ocean-blue orbs. Her whimpers fell away to a snarl. Raging bubbles escaped from her sinking form, flowing out in large quantities as the beast felt her mind grow hot.

She couldn't remember. She couldn't remember. She couldn't remember!

SHE DIDN'T WANT TO EVER REMEMBEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Tiny pupils were warped, enlarging until only a black pearl could be seen among eggshell whites.

Already sharp teeth grew larger, wider, crueler, and tore the waves like the finest of blades.

A frail frame pulsed, suddenly bursting with lean and defined muscles one would only find on an animal.

The Nameless Guppy thrashed about the abyss with a wild and deep cry drowned by the sea slithering into her lungs to silence her.

Hot sparks bounced about her hammering thoughts and a cool voice wormed free.

'No one will remember you. You do not exist. Whoever may have even known your name has long since forgotten your first cry. So, stop resisting. If it's too painful to bear, don't worry. I'll seal the memory away. Do as you're told, and all you'll feel is a beautiful numbness where not even the most traumatic memory can hurt you.'

The Nameless Guppy roared a soundless roar better fit for a dragon. An agonized, solemn, hurt, and angered roar. A roar powerful enough to expel every last drop of the cold abyss swimming into her lungs.

Deeper, and deeper, and deeper.

Further, and further, and further.

Sinking, and sinking, and sinking.

The voice, those memories, that pain.

Drown, drown, and drown into the abyss!

From the bed of the seashore, a Shark bore its sharp rows of ravenous teeth in hunger. Beady black pearls sought the surface world above its head. Shadows lurked above, wriggling, stretching, growing.

Primal instinct demanded it to keep moving. To lunge, snap, crush, plunge, thrash, and devour.

The Shark did not think. It merely swam up with a wild spear rush straight above the nearest shadow cast by its prey.

With a large creak from its jaw, the Shark erupted out of the water and sank its teeth into warm flesh. Muscles, ligaments, veins, tendons. It was all ripped off in one ruthless charging chomp with such speed, no one was able to react, not even as the Shark dove back into the frigid waters with its prize.

It felt no victory or satisfaction. The taste of warm flesh and blood did not sate it. It just felt empty and wanting.

The Shark spat out the offending limb with distaste and continued swimming beneath the screaming shadow. Black pearls sought more. From the corner of its eyes, the Shark found a bigger, broader, and deeper shadow a few feet away. Instinct burned at the sight of the shadow, demanding the Shark to attack.

The Shark did not question the demand. It simply attacked.

From the back of the sea berserker, it felt a strange hardness form on their spine. As if water had hardened into a wide sail-like fin. The new weapon adorning the Shark's back sliced through the water as it swam at the large shadow with increasing fervor. Solidified water cut through the belly of the large shadow, tearing the metal stomach wide open like a gutted fish.

Again and again, the Shark gutted the shadow's stomach and even went as far as to leap out and tear chunks out of the odd body of the metal and wood beast. Yet no matter how much damage the Shark inflicted, it did not see a red splash. Only a strange scented black water was bled.

With one final leaping slash of its water-borne fin, the Shark sunk the sailing beast into the depths it had been escaped. The Shark fell onto the water but did not sink back to follow the shambles of its prey. For whatever reason, the Shark found itself standing on strange fins protruding from its bottom. Black pearls regarded the odd limbs with curiosity, all while ignoring the guttural shout of the one-armed human close by.

"-to...-ime!"

The Shark tilted its head, its black pearl orbs unable to focus properly. A strange yellow and orange blur was in its sights with faint orange-red wisps fading from their body.

Attack.

It should attack.

...Right?

"Oto..-ime!"

Oto...ime?

What were those words? Was that a name? For whatever reason, the Shark did not attack the new prey, curiosity telling it to make sense of the odd words spilling out of the blur.

"Fuin Kai no Jutsu: Si Da Ha!(Seal Release Technique: Four Great Calamities)"

Searing red, torrential blue, howling green, and thick brown colors exploded behind the Shark.

Unimaginable pain overtook her senses as a wave of elements splashed close to its back and swallowed it in an uproar of heat, blunt trauma, and cutting wind. The Shark disappeared in a roaring wave, captured by the rushing waters amid flames, wind, and rocks pelting its body.

The hard earthly soil of the shore struck the Shark as it was kicked out of the water in the uproar of waves. It gasped for breath, crying out in pain as it felt its tough skin split open and cooked.

An orange blur rushed over to the downed Shark, putting it on edge as it weakly attempted to stand back on its feet. What appeared as hands reached out to them, causing the Shark to snap back at the blurry fingers.

Fury.

Fury.

Fury.

Rolling and crashing at the center of its chest, a wild and primal seething torrent caused the Shark to stand back up on its feet and face back toward the waters. Its pain was plunged into the crushing fury overtaking all sense and logic it could have salvaged as it glared hatefully at the waters where its prey stood.

The one-armed prey spoke, their words lost to the haze of buzzing fury blotting all but the Shark's own heavy breathing. It motioned with its only arm at it, a strange roll of paper unfurled meaningfully before they tossed it aside like its lost limb. From their waist, three more rolls were grasped as if they were deadly claws ready to tear her apart.

Manic.

Manic.

Manic!

A sense of lovely mania blossomed upon the sharp-toothed Shark. Its teeth flashed wide and cut through its face like a crescent moon, eager to snap upon the furious prey's shadow. It had tasted blood; sweet and warm upon their gums. Like a forgotten childhood soft drink touching its lips after so long. Such a euphoria was manic!

The Shark eagerly stepped forward. It ignored the warbled call of the orange blur and a smaller blur after its damaged back. It no longer recognized the tugging name it had caught. It instead chose to sink deeper into the forgotten emotions lurking in its sunken heart.

Yes, deeper.

Further.

Sinking further.

Down, down, into the drowning manic and fury of what could no longer be salvaged!

Sound no longer was registered. Feeling was lost. A buzzing numbness now had itself wrapped around her like some enormous snake ready to swallow it whole. Red crept at the corners of its vision and prepared to blind it to nothing but an abyss of blood.

Like the final breath taken before the dark dregs of the deep waters robbed them of the last of their hopes for the bright world above, a tiny bubble escaped just before the Shark could sink any further.

'..elp me.'

Raging waters arose around the manic-grinning Shark as it leaned ahead. Folding and unfolding just like fierce ocean waves, pushing aside anyone or anything daring to reel them back. Like a geyser come to life, the blunt and powerful raging waters surrounded the Shark and welcomed them back into taking the plunge of bloodlust. Like thick water-borne tendrils to an aquatic beast lurking beneath the sea.

'Please…'

A tiny bubble continued to float free from the dim abyss.

'Please, help me.'

The final breath was taken.

The Shark's rows of deadly teeth cracked open and-!

[-]

CRACK!

Manic, wild, unstable, and fierce rising waves taking the shape of blunt tendrils visibly cracked and shattered apart. Like smashed panels of glass, the seawater converging and whipping about the shark-girl's body fell with a strange otherworldly whine.

It happened in what felt like an instant.

Somehow, someway, a certain right hand forgotten in all the chaos had finally reached the scene.

And smashed through the lousy illusion with nothing more than throwing out his open hand to the crushing waves.

The livid and wild Shark snapped at the offending blurry limb. The nightmare of the deep cracked its mouth open as wide as it could, revealing rows of knife-like teeth, and swiftly chomped down. Skin was easily pierced. Blood burst like a popped juicy tomato. And longs fingers were swallowed to the back of the Shark's throat-!

CRACK!

Again, an otherworldly whine was heard. This time from deep within the stunned wide-eyed Shark's throat.

Something had been destroyed.

And the world had regained its clarity. Those dark depths of a scary abyss were cleared away for the bright and sunny world above.

For Otohime, the bright and sunny world above came in the picture of a head of spiky black hair, dark blue eyes, and a tired smiling Kamijou Touma standing over her.

It didn't matter to him if his body was wracked with wounds. Or if his right hand was being bitten down incredibly hard to the point he felt teeth snagged in his wrist. The wounded high school boy found himself where he was needed most at the very moment with a smile on his bruised and bloodied face.

Otohime's eyes were flooded with fat tears that ran down her cheeks in streams. Her throat quivered and gagged at the sensation of his right hand and blood. With a gurgled cry, her sharp teeth were released from the hand's flesh, and spat the still attached limb out.

She was mortified. Disgusted. Ashamed. Sickened. Words could not describe how she felt as she watched the boy she regarded as Ryu-sama stumble back with a bloody right hand. What could she say?

She didn't remember.

She couldn't remember.

She didn't want to remember!

Lips trembling uncontrollably and chest heaving heavily to the point she couldn't breathe, Otohime tried to speak and apologize.

"Thank goodness, I made it just in time."

Why.

Why?!

WHY?!

Why was her Ryu-sama still smiling at her?!

"R-Ryuuuuuuuu-samaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Otohime sobbed loudly and tackled the idiotically smiling teen. She cried harder into his chest even as her hug caused a sharp wince of pain from her savior. She couldn't stop crying now.

All she could do was embrace the dragon who had caught her final bubble of breath longing for the bright world above.

A soft laugh was heard from Touma as he patted the bawling shark girl.

"Hey, hey, hey! It's alright now. We made it just in time, didn't we? I don't know what that was just now but it's over. I promise we'll make everything alright now, so there's no need to be crying now."

Otohime sniffled, weakly nodding to his words.

"Fuin Kai no Jutsu: Ryu no Hoko!(Seal Release Technique: Dragon's Roar)"

Hot flames roared forward from the sea, rushing in a straight line to the shores and aimed at the reunited pair. The bright inferno molded itself after the head of a livid dragon cracking its mouth open to devour its prey in one gulp. Orange-red fangs cracked wide open to devour the pair into the depths of a searing hell where only wisps of blackened ash would be spat out.

The wounded older boy paid it no mind, swatting the deadly flame ninjutsu with just a wave of his bloody right hand. Flames taking the picture of a fierce dragon in shape and power were easily smashed apart into fading embers. That open hand, bloodied and gouged by sharp knife-like teeth, curled into a powerful fist as faint embers fell around him.

Kamijou Touma glared furiously at the one-armed Ku standing atop the waves of the docks. He held Otothime closer into her chest, assuring she wouldn't have to see the bloodshot eyes of the bastard responsible for her tears.

"How…!"

Touma grinned back at the seething shinobi.

"I'd be lying if I said I did it because of sheer willpower or my sense of justice. Nothing so cliché saved me. Truth is, if it wasn't for them stumbling upon me just as I was about to lose consciousness, there's no telling when I would have woken back up."

Ku growled, staring daggers at the spiky-blond boy comforting the sniffling grandson of the bridge builder and the boy's mother.

"The Jinchuriki. So, the little demon came across your bleeding body and patched you up? Meaning the other Konoha shinobi aren't far either!"

Touma shook his head, his grin growing wider and more vicious.

"Uzumaki-san has my thanks and all, but he doesn't know how to do anything more than put a bandage over a scrape. And his team had left him this morning, so they have no idea what's going on right now since they're most likely guarding Tazuna-san. No, I owe all my thanks to a certain woman you had previously chained up. I'd feel like a complete bastard if I didn't give her my thanks; ain't that right, Kyofu-san?"

A rookie mistake had been made by the veteran shinobi.

Ku had lost sight of the wider world around him and had been clouded in rage.

There wasn't even enough time for him to so much as twitch the muscles in his neck.

Sweet, cold metal sang along the salty wind and sliced down his back from the presence slipping in from behind. Blood sprang violently from the long wound opening up from his left shoulder down to his right hip, nearly bisecting the bones of his spine if he hadn't leaped forward just as the blade had cut along the bottom of his shoulder blade. Swiftly as he could, he released a slender and thin blade from a scroll and deflected the next quick slash intent on cutting him down the middle.

Emerald green eyes coldly stared him down as they pressed down viciously into his blade. A familiar dark-skinned kunoichi with ebony hair, a Kumogakure headband, and a savage grin greeted him once again.

"T-The damned Kumo-slave?!"

"Hah! You pissy little shits never even broke me, so who are you calling a slave? Gotta thank ya for chaining me up, you one-armed bitch. If ya hadn't done that, I wouldn't have met my buddy with the skilled hand over there or gotten the chance to pillage Gato's crap shack. All those beatings and fat hands prodding at my sexy body were worth it for the chance to burn his little bases down to ash and get a chance to maim you!"

A low kick caught Ku off guard, striking him in the solar plexus with such force, he was lifted off and sent flying. He grunted hoarsely and tried to recover mid-flight, only to choke on his breath as the Kumo kunoichi followed with shunshin and delivered another fierce kick to continue his flight for the shore of the dock. He found himself rolling along the ground, grass, and dirt sticking to his still bleeding stump of a right hand and lacerated back. As much agony as he was in, Ku forced himself to immediately stand back up with his blade drawn.

Kyofu followed after him, standing only a few feet away from him with several kunai clenched in her fist with a cruel grin.

Off to the side, he could make out the blonde Konohagakure jinchuriki summon another batch of clones and fall into a fighting stance.

And out of the corner of his eyes, he could make out the Nami no Kuni's newest champion leave the shark-girl in the hands of the bridge builder's family and approach with his fists bared.

Ku was cornered. No differently than a wounded beast caught in a trap by a group of hunters. Bleeding profusely with a limb torn off his shoulder, chakra draining, and blood loss beginning to set in and cause his head to grow light.

It was his loss. There was no winning this fight even with his tricks. Not unless he wanted to risk his life any further. Unfortunately for his opponents, Ku was not sadistic like Waraji or a fan of gambling like Zori.

With a clank, the one-armed shinobi dropped his blade and sighed heavily.

"I suppose I've run my course here. Pity. I had just stumbled upon an interesting investment too. But I know when to call it quits and give up the fight. I have no plans on dying her today."

A kunai was thrown with enough speed to slice open Ku's left cheek just by passing by an irate Kyofu. The string to his metal armored straw hat was severed.

"And who says you get to live at all? You chained me up like a beaten dog; you don't get to walk away! Not after all the shit you've helped Gato get away with." she spat bitterly.

Ku laughed lowly, the action causing his straw hat to loosen and fall away to his feet. With it gone, his hair was free at last.

Two red sharp bangs reminiscent of snake fangs fell alongside Ku's cheekbones with a slight curl underneath his chin. A short ponytail was also released, sprouting out in ends similar to a pineapple stem. And with the shadow of the wide brim of his straw hat gone, the color of his eyes could finally be seen to all.

For whatever reason, Naruto found himself uneasy at the similar shade of ocean blue eyes revealed.

"Let it be known, I never once cared about that piggy bank's deeds or saw them as amusing. I despise him just as much as you all do. But business is business. I'm no different than the Demon Swordsman in that regard. You could even say we share similar goals. So long as he paid up, his wish was my command. That is what a true shinobi is all about."

"Fuck off."

Ku quirked a brow in amusement as he turned to Kamijou Touma, finding the boy glared at him with such animosity, that he wondered which of them was the true killer.

"Kyofu-san wasn't the only person bound by those strange kanji. I found plenty of people in Sector-D in similar shape. You were responsible for trapping them in that hell! You had a choice! And for what? Just so you could stuff your fucking pockets?! Did their cries mean nothing to you?! You don't get to act as if it was simply your fucking job and avoid any responsibility! You're not allowed to run away!"

"I am a weapon, hired to do as my wielder commands. Since when does a weapon have to be responsible for the sins of its master? Regardless, I'm not here to defend myself in the slightest." Ku shrugged with a flippant twirl of his left hand, "I no longer desire to continue working under Gato's command. Especially in my current state. I've filled my pockets enough, so there's little reason for me to continue swallowing my pride for that tiny pig's ego."

With a loathing stare at his bloody wet stump of a right arm, and a parting glare of malice at Otohime(shielded by glaring Tsunami) Ku played his last trick.

As he had done previously, Kyofu had lost sight of the bigger picture and gave in to her sense of vengeance. By the time the Kumo kunoichi noticed the slight bulk in Ku's sleeve, it was too late.

"I don't intend on paying my debts to you lot. My people may have fallen, but I will not. I refuse to die out. If you truly want to take your anger and hate out on someone, turn to the village. You'll find plenty of demons out in play to sate your blood lust."

A scroll was unfurled with ease even with one hand. The roll of paper scribbled with numerous characters spun around the redheaded shinobi like a twister, coiling around him and even deflecting the many kunai and shuriken flung by both Kyofu and Naruto. With a swirl of blurring wind, Ku's figure vanished into thin air.

All that remained of his presence were splotches of red and a spent scroll where he had stood.

[-]

Taking no chances on any more surprise attacks, Naruto went to work on restraining the knocked-out goons with rope and a couple of clones to hold the struggling men down. Upon discovering the thugs had died to shurikens to the head, he grimaced and turned his attention back to Inari and Tsunami. Both of whom were currently busy fussing over a still very wounded Touma and wet-eyed Otohime. At all the attention the older boy was garnering, Naruto couldn't help but grumble.

Where was his thanks?! He was the one who showed up first and rescued them both.

Catching his sour grumbling and dirt kicking, Kyofu stopped by and ruffled his hair with a laugh.

"Leave the idiot his moment, ya knucklehead. Just remember, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have been able to locate the bridge builder's home. Not to mention you bought me enough time to help Kamijou get back on his feet. This little happy ending is all thanks to you, ya brat."

"Hnnn, I know, but still." Just a little praise would have been cool. The big hug from Inari was nice though.

Still, the prideful fox had to relent as he looked softly at the scene of Tsunami burying her face into Touma's chest while crying. He had to wonder what happened earlier before he had arrived at Tazuna's house.

It was by pure coincidence that Kyofu had stumbled upon Naruto as he was running for the village to meet up with the rest of Team-7. He had just about stepped out of the woodlands surrounding Tazuna's residence and seen the village when the dark-skinned woman had dropped right in front of him from above the treetops. He'd nearly had a heart attack and had already drawn a kunai to defend himself with. Being the far quicker and far more skilled ninja, Kyofu had disarmed him, caught him in a headlock, and made him scream uncle.

Once she had gotten him to calm down, the exotic woman had explained the situation at hand. Through her own means, she had gotten information on a planned attack on Tazuna's daughter and moved to intercept the attackers. He hadn't really gotten any other information on her whereabouts since the collapse of Sector-D or what she had been doing in all the time she had been gone and didn't really care. All that mattered was that she knew there was an attack about to fall on Tsunami, Inari, and Touma.

Since Kyofu didn't know the location of the bridge builder, Naruto led the way. Unfortunately, they were too late to prevent the attack, finding the front door of the home blasted open by what must have been an explosive tag. Signs of a fight had been discovered among the wreckage along with blood stains in several places. Naruto still remembered how livid with rage he had grown at the possible fate of all three until Kyofu pointed out a fresh trail of blood leading out of the house. Being the only clue to where the kidnappers had gone, they followed after the bloody breadcrumbs.

Which eventually led them to discover a bloody and wounded Touma several feet outside. Naruto could only guess they hadn't noticed the older boy because he had been crawling on his stomach to go after Gato's goons. With Kyofu being the only one who knew even a bit of first aid and carried the proper supplies to mend some of the wounds, Naruto had been left to go in the direction of where the goons had left.

Color him surprised to come across two knocked-out ugly-faced thugs and a crying Inari firing several bolts at masked shinobi.

At least Tsunami and Inari were now safe. But questions still remained to puzzle the young genin.

Back with Touma, he was trying really hard not to show how much pain he was in as Tsunami pressed her crying face deeper into his chest alongside Otohime. Seriously, couldn't they see how much red was painting his shirt? He could only offer so many comforting words when he wanted to curl up in a ball and groan.

"I-I thought...I thought!"

"I'm sorry, Ryu-sama! I'm sorry!"

Touma sighed, bearing the aches and hard pressure in his ribcage for just a bit longer. Both of those girls had gone through a traumatic experience. They could cry all they like for now.

With his free hand, Touma patted Inari's head as the boy stood right by them.

Inari stiffened up. At Touma's touch, the boy bit his bottom lip and fought to not cry anymore. Now that Touma got a good look at the young boy, he noticed how scuffed up and dirtied his clothes were. He could see how his little shoulders were rising up and down roughly as if he was still trying to catch his breath. He was sweating and looking around carefully to see if there were any more threats.

"I couldn't keep crying, could I?" he mumbled quietly.

A complicated expression briefly made its way to Touma's face.

He was proud but also felt bad. To be put in such a situation where you had to fight against pieces of shit like the demons he had come across in Sector-D? He saw some blood on the kid's face too; had he been cut? Had he been able to muster the mere strength to get back up on his feet, Inari would have never had to swallow his terror and chase after those monsters with weapons.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said bitterly before bringing the boy in for a hug with the rest of the girls.

He felt Inari stiffen like a statue. Caught between Tsunami and Otohime, his face was hidden from view but Touma could tell Inari was struggling not to show a reaction.

Inari was not like Touma or the shinobi. This wasn't normal for him. Fighting for his life against men who wore sickening masks and laughed at all the tears and cries they spread for their amusement. Knowing the sensation of a cold metal blade slicing across your skin. Feeling your heart bashing against your chest with every second as you forced your body to evade what was surely a sure-kill attack.

Such an ugly and uncomfortable sensation for a normal person to have to bear.

"You don't have to hold it in, Inari You did amazing picking up this lousy idiot's slack. The fighting's over now and you saved everyone; don't keep it in. Trust me, it just hurts more when you do."

Bravery had nothing to do with it. Doing the right thing didn't change it.

After overcoming such a scary experience, it was perfectly fine if you wanted to cry a bit.

Touma could feel Inari shake his head against the others. It was just a bit, but he felt another damp spot on his shirt. He smiled gently and hugged the three against his chest tighter.

If he could, he wouldn't let them go.

"Kamijou."

Yeah, if he could. For just a bit longer if he could.

With some clinging fingers dug into his already torn and bloodied shirt, Touma pulled back from the hug to look back at the stern-faced Kyofu. The Kumo kunoichi held a hand to her hip, waiting patiently for him to finish. Naruto was scratching his head uncomfortably, a similar habit Touma himself had, and appeared to know what to say or do.

Touma sighed heavily and nodded.

"Right, we can't sit around doing nothing. Seems clear to me that Gato-teme is done waiting around and wants to settle everything in one big move. About time that fat sack of shit stopped sitting on his ass."

It would be presumptions of them to believe this was all Gato had been up to. This couldn't have been the only move he had planned when his hand was chucked full of nothing but cards and combos ready to overwhelm his opponents. As happy as he was to have broken through his scummy plot to kidnap Tsunami, he couldn't release the grip of his fist.

If Gato was making an attack on this front then it was only logical to believe another attack was aimed at their back. In other words, Tazuna and the bridge. Not to mention what he had heard just a bit ago…

'If you truly want to take your anger and hate out on someone, turn to the village. You'll find plenty of demons out in play to sate your blood lust.'

Touma found an ugly mass forming in the pit of his stomach at those words.

"The shinobi said something about the village. You know what's about to go down, don't you? This isn't the only attack Gato had planned."

Kyofu frowned, "You catch on then?"

"I'm made of misfortune. I can't take you coming out of nowhere, after vanishing for so long, to come across Uzumaki-san and save my life as some kind of miracle. If you've gone out of your way to find me after parting then it can't be for anything good- even if I'd like to have seen you again without all the misfortune I attract." he smiled weakly.

Hand on her waist, Kyofu nodded.

"My original mission was compromised because of that greedy pig sicking The Demon of the Mist on me. He knocked me out, stripped me of everything, thought he could buy me like some cheap piece of meat, and then beat me we I didn't spread my legs for his dogs to screw stupid. Did you think I would just return to my village in defeat after that?" Kyofu said with a disbelieving expression before scoffing, "Not before I burned a few of his beloved strongholds to smoldering rubble via Explosive Tags, Raiton Jutsu barrages, and good old sabotage. Plus, after witnessing your methods, I thought to enlist the help of penned-up sheep. Turns out they were very eager to bite back at their masters."

Well, that would explain the reports from Kakashi and Tazuna about sections of the small nation fighting back against Gato's men.

"Because of my raids, I was able to pick up a few pieces of tasty intel regarding Gato that I thought I would share with you before I headed back to report my failed mission to my village. You know, a little thank-you gift to the Konoha ninjas for lending a hand. At least, that was the plan."

A proudly grinning Naruto looked back at them as Kyofu gestured to him with a thumb rearing back to him.

"I'd never forget such a blinding shade of orange combined with that shade of overly bright yellow hair. Caught up with the brat and explained a bit. Once he heard about the planned attack on the bridge builder's daughter, he panicked and told me you were also in trouble. Should have known our reunion would have me finding you bloodied and near death again."

"How'd you even hear about the attack?"

A radio was shown off for Touma to see, most likely stolen from one of Gato's high-ranking thugs.

"Tch. Brushing off your own wounds, typical." Kyofu muttered lowly, "I picked up a radio transmission from Gato's men demanding all his men return to the village to burn it to the ground along with snatching up the bridge builder's daughter. Seems he was growing fed up with how things were playing out and realized that it was only a matter of time before he lost control of his walking wallets. He's going to pillage the village and rebuild this nation from whatever remains to make himself out as its daimyo. After hearing that, I knew I had to warn you and the Konoha shinobi about the sudden attack."

Kyofu didn't sound pleased at what she had discovered, regarding the deceased bandits with disgust.

"It's already begun. I noticed several boats carrying his men arrive at shore. By the time we head into the village, I wouldn't be surprised to be greeted with chaos amid the rioting. While he did call in all his men, his numbers aren't as much as you'd expect from an army. I'd guess he's got about fifty thugs arriving at the village while keeping twenty of his best to himself to later attack the bridge. Whoever remains standing between Momochi Zabuza and the Konoha at the end of their battle won't be able to fend them off, meaning the last thorns in his side will be taken care of."

"No-Brows survived? I should have known that the gray-skinned zombie hadn't died. Just means that I can finally take a crack at the bastard for mocking us last time!"

"It's an attack on two fronts with Gato making a last-minute appearance to announce himself the winner of it all and reign over as Daimyo then?" Touma wasn't pleased to hear that, "That means we have to make it to the village and take out whatever forces he's got attacking the villagers before stopping Momochi-san. It's not an easy thing to do between just three people especially since Imagine Breaker is useless against everyday weapons."

"Three people? Who do you think you're talking to?!" Naruto exclaimed proudly as he rubbed his nose, "You're looking at a one-man army! I just need to use my Kage Bunshi no Jutsu and we'll outnumber those scrubs, no problem!"

"I'm a Jonin of Kumogakure no Sato; I didn't get this far if I couldn't take out tens of idiots who can only threaten people by waving around weapons." Kyofu scoffed, "I took out several of Gato's strongholds on my own to cut his manpower down to what it remains. A kunoichi like myself won't have any problem against a small army of thugs who can't even utilize chakra."

3 Vs. a Small Army. Typically Touma would have groaned at the low odds against them. But he'd seen both Naruto and Kyofu take out several of Gato's low-leveled grunts. And with Kyofu being at full strength again and having the same ninja rank as Kakashi, he was feeling less anxious. Not like he could just run away at this point.

Anmi, Gaze, Boshi, Kiku, Wei, Midori.

He'd gotten to know a few of the people of Nami no Kuni. He knew their names. He remembered their smiles and laughs. As if he was simply going to ignore what was happening to the village kind enough to welcome even this unlucky charm.

Pain in his abdomen caused Touma to flinch as he gingerly patted over the wounds. Thanks to Kyofu, the shrapnel had been picked out and bandages had helped to stop the bleeding. She'd also given him some medicine to deal with the pain and fight any infection. The quick first aid he'd been given certainly helped to get him back up and return to the fight but he would have to be a bit careful.

"Then we better head off towards the village. I'm not sure what we can do to stop the attack but we can't stand back and let them destroy everything. If attacking is all we can do, why hesitate? If I was a betting man, I'd say we were screwed. So, we're going to have to do this without Lady Luck watching over us because she finds my right hand repulsive. I hope you're all ready to roll the cursed dice. Odds are completely against us on this huge gamble play!"

He'd charged head first into a chapel full of over a hundred battle-trained nuns once before. And even went through a gauntlet of powerful magicians, soldiers, machines, and gods. As if this was any different. At least he wouldn't be charging ahead by himself.

Shaking fingers snatched his right hand, refusing to let go.

"Ryu-sama…"

Touma looked back to the still-crying Otohime with an apologetic face.

"I'm sorry, Otohime. But I have to go. More people are going through what you all had to endure, all crying for help. Even if I can't hear them, I can't pretend that they're not begging for someone to save them."

Otohime pressed her wet face against his knuckle.

"But R-Ryu-sama, I-I don't want to lose sight of you again! What if, what if! What if I become that thing again?" she whispered in tears, face stricken with horror at the mere possibility of returning into that berserk state again, "What if he comes back? I don't want to transform into that mean monster again! I don't want to hurt anyone again!"

"You won't."

"HOW WOULD YOU KNOW?!" Otohime snapped with teary eyes brimming with anger and regret.

In the face of such an expression, unlike the sweet glutton fish girl he'd gotten to know, Touma merely ruffled her head and spoke kindly.

"Because whatever that was earlier wasn't you. Just because...just because you found something terrifying and violent dwelling within you, doesn't mean it defines you. You don't have to become such a scary demon if you don't want to. You have the strength to reject that lousy illusion yourself. Because you're Otohime, the sweet and greedy girl who was brave enough to continue smiling after escaping a demon's den. I trust that far too-hungry brat to remain the girl I've come to adore like a sister."

Maybe was feeling lonely in a world not his own and began to already doubt ever returning to his world. But when said those words, he said them so easily without hesitation.

Otohime bit her lower lip and seemed to want to argue back. But she withheld the sudden spike of rebellion as it was wrong. When this was all over, he would have to help the far too-loyal girl learn such emotion wasn't bad. Especially for a girl who was close to his age and even older than Team-7.

"...Promise you'll come back?"

"Pinkie swear."

He held out the pinkie finger of his left hand for the wet-eyed girl to take. Only after a bit, she hooked her blue-skinned finger with his own and let go of his right hand.

Now that Otohime had let go of Touma's hand, Tsunami stepped in to reel her back to her side. A look of resignation could be seen on the single mother's face as she looked at Touma. As if she herself had wanted to beg the reckless teen to not leave but knew better than to try.

"Seems I couldn't play the hero like you or Kaiza. I promised I would protect you this time but...in the end, I couldn't do more than weigh them down. But even though I can't play the role myself, I know you can. Which is why I won't stop you."

"Tsunami-"

She shook her head, cutting him off as she stepped up to him until she was standing directly in front of him.

Touma felt a soft, warm, moist sensation on his cheek. His entire body felt like it had locked up and felt a hot sensation throbbing all over his face.

Was...had he just been…?

A smiling and bright-faced Tsunami stepped back as Touma slowly reached to touch his cheek.

"I've...I've already lost one reckless idiot. Please, make sure I don't have to suffer that kind of pain again, okay?"

Touma didn't know what to say. He was still too stunned by what had just happened. D- Did she seriously just kiss his cheek?! Damn it! Now wasn't the time to be so flustered before a big fight!

Once he'd calmed his wildly beating adolescent heart down, Touma gave the kind woman a bright grin, the biggest one he could muster.

"Don't worry, I'll be back. I might not look so pretty, have far too much red on me, and may even look like I belong in the ground, but I'll be back to you all once this is over. And believe me, this will be over; all of this. This long story of tragedy, champions, demons, hope, and heroes will see an ending where we can all smile at the end. I swear."

"I'll be sure to hold you to that end. If you do end up dying, I'll be sure to see if Gaze-san can bring you back to life long enough for me to scold you until you wish you'd stayed dead. Oh! Maybe the ninjas might know a magical jutsu to bring the dead back too!"

"Ghrk!"

Wow, was that a hell of a 180 turn? Did she have to say it with such an overly sweet smile and giggle though?! Gulping anxiously, he nodded swiftly.

It was time to leave.

Crouching down a bit, Touma turned his attention to the silent Inari. He was surprised the little guy hadn't kicked him in the shin when his mother kissed his cheek.

"We're going to have to leave you guys here, it's the safest place to be right now. But we'll be back with Tazuna-san and rest once this is all over. I made you a promise, after all. Whether you like it or not, you're going to be saved. In the meantime, can you continue protecting them for me, Inari?"

"As if I was going to stop now," Inari said fiercely.

"Wasn't expecting you to," Touma said brightly with a smirk.

"Kamijou."

"Touma-nii-san!"

He would liked to stay just a bit longer and comfort them for some more. But above their heads, above the tree tops, peaking into the bright sky aloft their head, were streaks of deep black smoke rising. Birds hurriedly flapped their wings as they flew away from the treetops where he knew the island's main village could be found. And the faint sounds of what he could only believe were explosions reached his ear even from this fair distance.

Gato's demons were already at play. Spreading his arms out, he took in Inari, Tsunami, and Otothime in a big hug, one last time, before walking over to Naruto and Kyofu.

Touma massaged the broken and torn skin of his right knuckles as he faced the direction of the village with two ninjas by his side.

"If Gato wants to resume playing his shitty act as a demon lord then how about we play our part in the story? The opening act's over. Let's dive on into the main event and give them a hell of a show."

There wasn't any verbal confirmation from Naruto or Kyofu. Only action as the three took off towards the village where demons were running amok.

Never aware of the stare of the frowning Inari who was also staring at the rising smoke with a clenched fist.

[-]

The village of Nami no Kuni was under siege by an unknown number of Gato's remaining army that had been cut down the past few days by the efforts of Team-7+Touma's efforts and Kyofu's night raids in retaliation for being chained like an animal. When one thought of amassed blades of various cruel means that Gato had hired with his nigh unlimited resources as The Elemental Nation's wealthiest man, it was only natural for the mind to imagine a great army that ranged in the three digits. It was a reasonable guess for anyone to come upon when they heard of Gato's army of thieves, bandits, miscreants, and thugs.

But you would be surprised to realize that words such as 'army' did far more than notify the opponent of the sheer size of the opposition they were about to attack or be attacked. Words had this great effect on the human psyche that could work to the advantage of the one who spoke them. Take simple words like hot.

If you were told that the fork you had left on top of the surface of a foil covering up a hot meal would be hot, your mind would immediately come to the conclusion that the metal body would become hot as it absorbed the heat. Little did you know that the hot meal had cooled, reducing the heat transferring to the foil to leave the fork null of any real change.

If you were told that the knife casually left on the counter was sharp and that you should be careful when dicing onions on the cutting board, you would be wary of slicing your hand. Little did you know that the blade hadn't been sharpened in quite some time, reducing its cutting power to the point that running your hand on the dulled edge wouldn't do more than tickle your skin.

Words held the power of suggestion when used properly to trick even the cleverest minds who lacked the proper knowledge. If one played their cards right, even a common man would be tricked into believing an orange was an apple.

The same could be said of Gato's army.

In truth, Gato's company was made up of close to a few hundred individuals under his employ who were all scattered within his strongholds. Compared to a hidden shinobi ninja, his numbers weren't all that impressive or anything to worry about. It was still a threat to smaller villages though, so it wasn't anything to scoff at either.

A little bit of a vocabulary question, if you will.

What was an army?

The definition was rather simple. An army was an organization of trained individuals prepared for war by a nation. They were individuals taught the art of warfare. Deadly figures who attacked under strict and stern orders no matter their moral code.

Now consider Gato's 'army' of nearly a hundred blades.

Thieves, bandits, criminals, and thugs who would work for money to satisfy their greed and selfish wants. They were not trained as shinobi were, or the long believed out-of-date samurai. They were the bottom of the barrel in a bin of quality weapons created for sale to hardened and experienced warriors. Compared to those superb metal works created to kill, they were failed pieces of junk that could only do real damage if they were lucky enough to strike flesh.

Undisciplined, wild, cruel only by lack of restraint and poor design, and weak by themselves. Those were the kind of blades compromising Gato's deadly army.

There was a saying about quality versus quantity. It was a saying meaning nothing to the billionaire who employed whoever was willing to throw aside their humanity to aid him in stripping a nation of all its smiles for his hefty pocket. As long as the quality of those being cut by said poor and cheap blades didn't surpass them under the barrage of overwhelming numbers then he was pleased.

Quantity won over against Nami no Kuni who had lacked any real military force to protect them from Gato's rusted and viciously chipped armed guards. Only one above-average rebellious blade had ever risen to challenge the billionaire and it had been broken by sheer numbers instead of skill or training.

Gato's army had never been questioned. The word alone made those helpless and frail villagers cower at the mention of those cruel and sick individuals who had already silenced their only champion.

So when word of Gato's army came to the village and the appearance of several dozen rough and dirty-dressed men charged in with various weapons to pillage their homes without restraint, the people had thought they were powerless and doomed to whatever sick pleasures and deeds those hyena cackling criminals had in mind. It didn't matter if they could pay Gato's collection fee on the spot, Ryo didn't matter to those cruel figures who swung their weapons without reason other than seeing the splatter or red, the hot devilish orange-red of flames, and the cries of the helpless forced to their knees.

An army of thirty dirty and chipped tools now ran around the simple seaside village with devilish grins and roaring laughter that spoke of violent glee. The innocent civilians could only run from those hunting blades with tears, screams, and sobs as the chaos began and flames were lit to consume all that got in their way.

"Where are you going, Otouto?! Oni-san just wants to help you down the road to becoming a beautiful, full-bodied, and pretty lady like your Kaa-san! Don't you want to moan like your Kaa-san!?"

A girl of twelve years was tossed to the middle of the dirt streets. Her body trembled like a leaf as she was forced down, a scarred and filthy hand grabbing her ankle with a hungry lick of their lips. Out of the corner of her eyes, the little girl was forced to watch their mother be kicked to the ground by a group of men who had already torn her shirt off, all sickly grinning as they waited for her to be dragged back to join her mother.

She couldn't run. The thug's hand had tightly crushed her ankle. She wouldn't be wrong to think it may have been broken. She began to sob hysterically as her mother began to scream that they let her daughter go, to do as they pleased with her but to let her go.

No one listened. No one came to help. All over the village, Gato's men were having their way and treating their homes as their playgrounds.

Nami no Kuni had long lost its hero. It had become a nation without a champion to save them in their darkest hours.

"There is no end to you cheap blades, is there?"

A flash of steel.

A faint, ever faint, thin gleaming red line of drawn blood.

And the thud of one cruel and filthy arm hitting the dirt with a meaty thud.

The thug could hardly register what just happened before his very eyes. He felt a cold sweat on his skin as he stared at the stump that used to be his arm grabbing the pretty little flower. At the elbow, a fountain of blood gushed.

A horrified scream tore through his throat that was only silenced by another flash of steel slipping across his jugular.

The little girl on the ground's tears were frozen as she and the five men circling her shirtless mother stopped to stare at the lone man who appeared to her rescue.

He was a man in his twenties with straight bluish-white hair that touched his shoulders. He wore a grayish-blue jacket with multiple pockets, and simple black pants, and held a blue sheath for the katana in his hand. His face reminded one of a delinquent with the straight green tattoo lines running under his eyes that made one think of a joker.

The man's name was Zori: The Champion Killer.

"Zori! You're still alive?"

"I thought you ran away after failing Gato-sama!"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?"

"If you're going to kill someone, kill the villagers, dumb-ass!"

"You're one of us, aren't ya? Stop fucking around and join in the fun!"

Yes, that samurai delinquent who loved to gamble and drink booze was one of Gato's bought tools that lived to serve his every command. He was no different than those who were now rampaging to their hearts' content within the village he had regularly hurt and abused. Another demonic figure who spread death and malice wherever he stood.

A sense of ease at the sound of that loyal skilled blade sheathing their blood-stained katana gave those dull tools reason to believe he saw reason.

The eyes of the little girl who had been dirtied with a sprained ankle and the mother whose shirt had been ripped open to reveal her chest to those dark hungry gazes trembled with a hollow realization that their cries for help would be ignored. That it was foolish to be tricked by the illusion she had just seen from the Champion Killer.

"You're wrong."

That loyal blade who had sold his steel for riches and luxury screeched ominously.

"I'm not one of you chipped, cheap, waste of steel!"

That corrupted steel sang to a new purpose as it slid out of its sheath with blistering speed that created sparks due to the friction.

Taken by surprise, those cheap blades of Gato were unable to react to the drawn samurai blade that had appeared within their circle. Any effort to act against the new rebellious element was reduced to shreds as a full circle of silver revolved around Zori who acted as the axis alongside the assaulted woman at his side.

A click of that unloyal, cheating, backstabbing edge was accompanied by the spray of blood and five bodies hitting the ground.

The lightning-speed round slash had no name. It was an Iaijutsu technique that simply scored deep slashes in a circle that cut through bone thanks to a boost of chakra to his limbs. It was a move Zori had just come up with as he bet that single chip of kindness.

Zori glanced at the shell shock woman staring up at him, unsure if she was safe or stolen for his depraved wants. In her eyes, he was owned by Gato. He was another one of those many arms that he had spreading violence to her home. Just another demon who could only kill.

"If you can stand, go help your daughter up. She's worse off than you right now."

The tear-stain-faced mother flinched before the soft cries of her daughter had her running to her side. She hugged her daughter to her chest, tears slipping down her face, and thanked Kami for the miracle.

Zori didn't express any joy or satisfaction at saving their lives. No smile greeted the trembling woman. Warmth could not be found in his eyes and he did not lend a hand for the shell-shocked woman to take.

He remained neutral as he spoke bluntly to those crying girls.

"Grab your daughter and wait a moment. Shio-san should be here any moment to lead you to safety."

The footsteps that drew near startled the mother and daughter but raised no concern to Zori who remained a safe distance away. He was more than aware of who was approaching them.

"Saved another few, did ya, Zori? Sheesh, you're making your senior realize just how old he is!"

Zori's mouth twisted in distaste as a certain crash fisherman came onto the scene. Behind the sea-hardy man were a good ten more villagers, all of whom held makeshift weapons that were once used for catching live aquatic prey but now were turned to stake thugs.

Shio, the crab fisherman who had saved the lost samurai of a rich tyrant, grinned widely and bent down to the trembling mother and daughter duo.

"It's alright, you're are in safe hands now. I know it's scary, I know you've been hurt, and I know things seem hopeless, but I need you to be strong and follow us. We can take you somewhere safe for the time being."

The traumatized mother swallowed her fear. Without any further words, she scooped up her crying daughter whose ankle had been nearly crushed, and followed the kind crab fisherman.

"Zori! We're going to go ahead and take these two back to the safe zone! We'll continue to count on you to take out whatever dogs you find tearing up the place, okay!"

Zori didn't respond, his back already facing those retreating villagers who had once feared him as they feared those who were running amok.

He had been given a single chip of kindness when his hand had been empty, when had no reason to pick up his cards and play again. At his lowest point after being defeated by an average civilian whose words had shaken his core, he had been saved despite how red his hands were dyed. What he was doing now was simply repaying that chip the house had granted him. It was by no means an attempt to win back his dignity or forgiveness for his crimes.

This was a debt he had to pay back with interest for that single chip worth less than a crumbled, torn, stained Ryo plucked from a puddle of piss.

He was unlike those cheap thugs running around like hysteric kids given free rein over a candy store.

When it came to quantity vs. quality, quality always won no matter the hand at play.

Compared to those shitty tools that knew only how to swing random weapons around even a disgraced samurai far exceeded them.

Back turned to those villagers Zori had once terrorized for his benefit, he continued on his way to deal with those wild dogs of his ex-employer.

Unaware of the sniffling face of a grateful little girl staring at his retreating.

He was no hero.

Just a lousy gambler.


The Demon Lord's army has arrived at last. Horns and wicked grins are illuminated in the hellish flames spurn by the endless avarice of a malicious false lord proclaiming his rule with destruction.

There is no more waiting. No more hiding. No more praying. This story can not be paused.

It no longer matters if you're a side character, a main character, or a background character. It doesn't matter if your character doesn't even belong in this story.

All that matters is that you're here.

Upon this land of waves, clench your fists and fight, you symbols of courage.

Oh, thank god it's complete! Sweet Christ, was that one hell of a chapter that took some elbow grease.

And several bottles of whiskey and bourbon. What? Drinking gives me confidence.

Now, now, I know. This chapter took forever to get out. Trust me, I know. I wrote it. And I could have sworn I was ready to start final editing at several points of tapping away on the keyboard. But life either kept getting in the way or I was just unhappy with how this dish tasted. I mean, it was good. It was servable. But it wasn't perfect; I could do better.

I can talk this up all I like but I think I need to give an example. Which I will and tell you where you can find the original completed Chapter that I had written years ago and believed was ready to be edited and published.

If I had to say what was the biggest roadblock with this chapter, I would have to say it was Inari and his arc. In all my time reading through all the Naruto fanfiction on this site, I have never once recalled ever coming across a fic that give the cynical little hero hater any more character than crying and then being thankful at the end of the final battle of Nami no Kuni. Me being me, wanted to change that. I wanted to write him through his arc of hating heroes and eventually coming to stand up as one. Meaning I had to come up with a bunch of dialogue for him.

Which was hard. Man, did I have to scrap a lot of the old stuff than the new stuff, and do that another two times. And I don't just mean on this chapter. I've done that throughout all of this story but have left all that out.

He was tough to write for but somehow still fun. I especially love how he came out with this chapter. I'm all the more happy that it took me this long to get him right here.

Touma being Touma found it difficult to swallow how his attempts to talk with Inari were failing. At this point, he also realizes he's had trouble from the very beginning with others too. After all, this isn't his world or Academy City. Not everything can be solved with just one talk or one fist to the face.

While his words did help Inari break free from his own hatred, without a doubt, it was Kakashi who gave Inari the final push to do so. I like how this shows that Touma doesn't have to be the one to save others in that regard.

With shit finally hitting the fan too, Gato's demons are now in play. Otohime's bit was, by far, somehow, my favorite bit to write. I couldn't help but find a few parts of her scene poetic. And with this, we finally get some reveal on what she may be with Ku's return.

Blue eyes and red hair. Huh. Why does that seem familiar? And what's with all the seals?

And let's all whoop for joy that our lovely Kyofu has returned to the scene too!

Throughout this chapter, the emotion I wanted to shine through above all else would have to courage. The courage to overcome one's own failures and doubts, the courage to face your own hatred, the courage to stand up, the courage to take up arms, the courage to continue forward. The star of said courage here would have to be Inari for finally listening to his heart instead of his pain. Better believe we haven't reached the end of his arc just yet!

The next chapter has us finally being reunited with The Demon of The Mists and Team 7! The Battle of The Bridge is right around the corner. I wonder how differently that will play out?

I mean, I know. But you guys? Yeesh! Ya, uh, got to wait a while for that bastard of an author to update, don't ya? God, I don't envy you at all. I mean, damn. He's a drunk.

Ahem!

To be fair! I have been updating my stories a lot more frequently these past few months. Even added some extra content for my subscribers.

Yup. In case you weren't aware, I set u treon. Been throwing in sneak peeks, looking at new stories to come, deleted stories and content, and even been planning on putting up a bit of more original work too. For fans of many of my works, it's also a place where they can get news on the next update to their favorite stories too. It's been doing good as of late too. Had this unedited chapter up on my page for my top tiers for a couple of days now too.

This brings us back to the reason why this chapter took a long ass time to complete. I have a perfect example for you to see why!

I'd like whomever is interested to go to my page and check out the original document to this chapter and give me your thoughts on it. And don't worry, I've left it free to view to everyone who goes onto the page, so you don't have to worry about pledging anything. Just...enjoy it for what's it worth. I will mention now that there is no mention of Otohime there at all; hard to believe she wasn't a first-day character. There are familiar parts but it's a completely different beast compared to the published chapter you've enjoyed today. Read it and see why it took me so long to redo.

I'd like to think it's because of my P a treon that I've been writing a lot more. Now that I have people showing me more support, I feel the need to repay it however I can. And it's been nice to buy a cup of good coffee with your support too...and a beer or two. Don't judge me.

I want to say the next chapter won't take as long to get done. But the fight scenes themselves will have to be completely redone too. It's the first part of the climax, so I have to make sure it gets special attention! Hopefully, you can continue being patient in waiting for next chapter to be released. But if you're eager for news on the next update, just keep checking my P a treon page for news. I'm always updating it for what's to be released for the current month.

Until next time!

Read and Review! It's common courtesy.

NeoShadows fading in and out.

P a treon . com (slash) NeoShadows.