LIGHTS OUT
Kakashi Hatake lands gracefully by the lake, accompanied by a squad of mid-level ninjas. But it's already too late.
The scene before him would send chills to anybody's spine. But he's seen it all by now. Years as a soldier have granted him a heart of ice. A small, quiet sigh is enough for him. Then his eyes lose all emotion as he gets to work.
"Clean up this mess", he sternly says. His squad, comprised of the most dependable chunin he could find (if that even means anything), swiftly move towards the boys lying on the lakeside.
The medics take the lead, moving with precise coordination. The Leaf boasts some of the world's finest ninja medics, but Kakashi's opinion differs. "If any of these guys are worth their salt," he thinks, "It'll be a miracle. And we need one here." What follows is a chaotic flurry of voices attempting to restore order; the situation is far worse than the medics anticipated.
"We're losing them," one remarks.
"He's got a nasty wound in..."
"He needs proper medical attention," another insists— "it's impossible to treat him here... damn it! I need a hand!"
"Have you seen his eyes? They're red, like..."
"You," Kakashi interjects— "cut the chatter and get to work."
"This is impossible, sir, we can't..."
"Damn it!"
"Kakashi," one of the most seasoned chunin approaches from the side— "They've rounded up the rest of the kids. I suggest we head back to the village; we're ill-equipped here..."
"Shit! He bit me!"
One of the medics attending to Naruto recoils, clutching his injured hand, blood staining his uniform.
"You little..."
"Step aside." Kakashi shoves him without hesitation and positions himself next to Naruto, who struggles against the two medics attempting to restrain him. He seems barely conscious, which is hardly surprising. The wound on his side would have been fatal for anyone less resilient. The Fox's healing abilities have undoubtedly bought him some time. But everything has its limits. Kakashi crouches beside him and gently taps his cheek. Then he lifts the bandana covering one of his eyes. "Hey, Naruto, look at me. Focus!"
The boy complies. And that's all it takes for the jonin to ensnare him in a much more advanced, more potent genjutsu than the one Sasuke had used before. Naruto's pupils roll upwards until his eyes turn white, and he slips into unconsciousness.
"It's done. You, patch up your finger. The rest of you, get them to the hospital. I want to see you moving like death is chasing you. And if you don't know what that feels like, don't worry, because I'll be right there behind you. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!"
"What are you waiting for then?" And like a flock of birds at the sight of a predator, the ninjas vanish from the scene, taking the kids with them.
Kakashi is left alone in the valley. The rain isn't as heavy as before, but the waterfall still roars with the same intensity. He squats on the ground over a puddle of blood, observing it, feeling drained and hollow inside.
"Naruto, Sasuke..." he mutters to himself. "What have you done?"
SHADOWS WITHIN
The kunoichi has to make a decision. "Do I slit his throat right here or do I escape through the window?" she thinks, and after a brief internal debate, she chooses to stay put.
She's wounded. Badly. Even if she managed to take him out—even if no one saw her slip out the window—she wouldn't get far. There are Leaf ninjas everywhere, and anyone would notice a young woman hopping around in a hospital gown. "Okay, calm down, Tayuya," she tells herself. "If they wanted you dead, they would've done it already, right? So, calm the hell down and think! What could be happening here?"
Images flash in her mind like a series of frames.
It's her running through the forest with her Sound comrades, it's Sasuke Uchiha's face with its empty, dead gaze; it's the Leaf shinobis catching up to them. There's the sound of screams, of branches snapping, trees shaking, the whistling of kunais and shurikens... then, the melody of a flute. Giant shapes pouncing on smaller ones. A hand made of shadows tightening around her neck, and it snapping with a loud crack. After that, nothing.
At some point, she woke up in a hospital bed. It's one of those dreary, generic rooms where they toss people to see if they live or die. You can picture it—white walls, white beds with white sheets, white curtains, furniture... painted white wood. It's like going to heaven, except the air reeks of that antiseptic smell that reminds you something's wrong with you, and it's not good.
It's ROOM 403 according to the plaque above the door, and besides Tayuya, there are three other patients in it. They're all covered up to their chins with the same thin sheets, and tubes and IV lines connect them to bags of blood and saline. Especially one of them. Here's where things get a bit murkier: one of the first things Tayuya noticed shortly after waking up was that one of those tubes, a long, thin, transparent thing, connected her body to the patient in the next bed. Who happened to have his face turned towards her. A face she already knew.
So not only was she admitted to the hospital of an enemy village, but for some unfathomable reason, her blood was connected to Naruto Uzumaki's.
Which brings us to the present, and the decision of whether to slit him like a pig or let it slide for the moment. "I was sure I'd die," she tells herself, "and if I'm still alive, it's because someone healed me. I don't understand why they did such a thing. Wait, my blood, it's... But why me? Damn it. Now what do I do?"
Truth is, it's a good question, and as such, the answer doesn't come to her immediately. So she decides to wait. After all, in her condition, the smartest thing to do is to heal.
Later, a doctor and his nurse enter the room, the former with a folder in hand, the latter pushing a cart with tools and medicines. Tayuya pretends to be asleep. And when neither of them is looking, she slips her hand into the cart, and steals a scalpel, hiding it under the sheets. The two guys leave the room without noticing anything, the door clicks shut, and she exhales, relieved.
"Planning to stick that into someone?" a voice whispers. "That's no good."
Tayuya almost screams. And it's not like it's the first time she's been caught off guard: a shinobi's life is full of unforeseen circumstances, surprises, and, well, disappointments. You can never let your guard down and all that. But no type of training—even working for Orochimaru—can prepare you for something like this.
Naruto is awake. And you'd think, what does that matter, who cares what that fool does? That's the same thing Tayuya would have thought in another situation, one where that boy's eyes were those of a normal person. And not those of an animal.
That intense, unnatural red color. Those pupils slit like a predator's. That glimmer of intelligence, no, of malice, waiting beneath the surface. Tayuya has seen eyes like that before. For a second, it's like being face to face with Orochimaru, it's like facing him once more... Without a second thought, she does it: she grabs the scalpel, holds it tight in her right hand, and lunges at Naruto, putting the tip directly against his throat. And she goes for the kill.
