Being on stand by was a constant for a shinobi in peacetime. In wartime, it was an everpresent way of life. It was an uncomfortable experience. Shorter hours to rest. Constantly glancing over your shoulder to see if an attack would come or if you would be called into action. Tensions bubbling, kept in check only by years of brutal training and discipline. Constantly looking at your superiors with superstition. When would they call for your service? The Konoha forces had been waiting in their small outpost for roughly three days due to Asuma's order.

Be ready for battle on extremely short notice.

It wasn't something to be enjoyed. But it was the life of a shinobi. It was the life they chose. All in the sake of defending and fighting for their home. It was a burden they had chosen. And they did it with pride.

But that didn't mean that they weren't happy when Asuma finally told them to move out. No. Perhaps happiness wasn't the right word. Apprehension. They knew what they were getting into. They were attacking the Suna base that had caused them so much difficulty in breaking into the Land of Wind. It was on the outskirts of their desert, but it was defending by their Jinchuriki. It was a death sentence to charge straight in.

So why were they?

Their answer came as the typical storm of poison and wind jutsu that greeted them was significantly smaller. No, it was practically nonexistent. What had happened to the Sunagakure defenders?

Asuma merely smiled. Everything was going to plan. It wouldn't be difficult to pierce Suna's defenses like this. They had merely one obstacle to overcome. The redheaded man stepped out of the gates of the fort, a massive gourd on his back. Asuma frowned, glancing to his forces but specifically to his nephew.

"Gaara of the Sand is out! Konohamaru with me! Everyone else disengage and try to capture the fort."

"Sir!"

The mighty roar was accompanied by the Konohagakure forces splitting off. Asuma grunted, weaving through handsigns as he saw Gaara's head slowly rise. They had to get his attention. Otherwise, the entire attacking force would be dead. An attack that would force him on the defensive, just for long enough for the group to get by him.

Blades of wind accompanied by a storm of fire courtesy of his nephew surged towards the redhead. Waves of sand rose in front of him, stopping the attack cold. But it wasn't over. A gout of flame shot from Konohamaru's mouth, the conflagration completely blocking out Gaara's vision. The Jinchuriki grunted, sending a wave of sand to swallow the attack. Asuma paid it no mind, smashing his hands together as he finished his handseals. A powerful gust of wind surged forwards on the sides of the trio, sending Konoha shinobi flying forwards. The Konoha shinobi were flung forwards just as Gaara overcame the torrent of flame.

Konohamaru and Asuma smirked up at the Jinchuriki, but he seemed disinterested. Suddenly the sand shot forwards, bullets of death that threatened to spear the last two remaining Sarutobi Clan members. However, they were not Jonin for no reason. They dodged the incoming attack, continuing their approach to the Jinchuriki. Tendrils of sand shot towards them as the very ground itself began to morph in on itself.

The monkeys were rushing headlong into danger. But they had achieved their goal. The rest of the force was able to successfully get by the Jinchuriki and into the fort.

"Konohamaru, you ready," Asuma questioned as he drew his chakra blades. Wind chakra swirled around them as he cut through the sand trying to spear him through.

The young Sarutobi grunted, a staff appearing in his hands that he used to bat away tendrils that got to close to him.

"I've been ready for this moment for weeks."

The two rushed forwards, taking care to make sure that their feet barely touched the ground. They couldn't afford to be trapped thanks to the man's manipulation of their environment. They were fighting at a significant disadvantage.

"You two," Gaara stated, sand exploding around him like a storm. Countless tendrils of sand shot towards the duo as the ground beneath their feet threatened to grab at their ankles. It was only through the experience of fighting in this environment countless times that they were able to avoid being caught and killed. Still, bullets whizzed by their bodies, and the slightest touch of the sand left long cuts on their bodies.

"I shall offer your blood to mother."

"Fuck you and your mother," Konohamaru muttered. "You're dying today."

Gaara seemed to take offense to that as more bullets whizzed towards them. Countless actions all at once. It was a true mastery of the environment. It was impossible to react to all of it. They were taking damage, blood from cuts and deep bruises forming on their bodies. With all their efforts to not be slaughtered by the man it was completely impossible to gain any ground on him. They were stuck in a game of tag, and it would soon be over with their bodies and blood fed to the desert sand.

But neither Sarutobi Clan member would have lasted this long as a shinobi if they merely sat back and let their enemy dictate the fight, regardless of the disadvantage they were in.

It was a slow process, but a necessary one. One seal had a time they channeled their chakra, ignoring the sounds of battle from the fort that could just barely be heard over the roaring of the sand. One seal at a time the attack formed.

And then it was ready.

The two unleashed their elemental specialties, a gout of fire and gale of wind merging into a firestorm. One that even Gaara of the Sand couldn't simply deflect with his typical defenses. Wall after wall of sand rose to defend him from the oncoming attack, the searing heat from it turning the sand to glass as it clashed against the defense. A singular bead of sweat dripped from Gaara's head, the glass beginning to crack as he reinforced it with more glass. He could defend. He just needed to focus.

Asuma and Konohamaru would not let him get that chance. The duo were at his sides instantly, greeted by flimsy walls of sand that couldn't stop their approach. Konohamaru snarled, rage in his eyes as he smashed his staff against Gaara's side. Gaara bounced to the side, directly into the waiting fist of Asuma. The chakra blade slashed into Gaara's throat, or rather it tried to. The sand armor on the Jinchuriki would not let the attack pass, instead only creating a long gash on the armor. Still, the force of the attack sent the Jinchuriki stumbling backwards, where Konohamaru smashed a foot into the man's side.

Konohamaru grunted in pain as Gaara dropped to a knee. It was like kicking a steel wall. That armor was certainly nothing to scoff at. Still, he would break it. He roared as he brought down his staff, threatening to smash the redhead's skull in, only for a wave of sand to rise up and stop the attack cold. Konohamaru grunted, trying to pull away his staff only for the sand to devour it. The Sarutobi leapt away, Gaara's eyes following him with hate in his eyes. Asuma didn't give him the opportunity to attack his nephew though, lashing out with a punch that cratered into Gaara's chest. The man skidded backwards, but otherwise seemed entirely unaffected. Instead, the sand beneath his feet began to roll before a massive tsunami of sand was sent flying at the two.

"He can control that much," Asuma muttered. The man glanced at the construct of glass that stood behind them. It had just barely managed to hold off the firestorm they had sent Gaara's way. It would prove useful as a defesive structure. He leapt on top of it with Konohamaru as the tsunami barreled into it, causing tremors but not forcing the tower to collapse.

Gaara wouldn't stand for that.

He clenched his fists, and a shockwave shook the sand as he condensed it. The tower shattered, sending the two Konoha shinobi towards the ground. They didn't merely await their descent to the waiting spikes of sand however. Instead, they kicked off of the pieces of glass that filled the air, shooting towards Gaara. The Jinchuriki grunted, sending bullets of sand towards them to shread them to pieces midair.

Asuma weaved through handseals at a blistering pace, desperate to form a defense in time.

"Fūton: Fūhakujun (Wind Release: Shield of the Wind Count)!"

Asuma exhaled a great gust of wind, one that collided with the sand bullets and redirected them. Gaara's eyes widened just a tad as he saw his own attack flying back at him. Still, it didn't mean much. He merely absorbed them into an even larger tendril of sand reminiscent of a giant hand that threatened to gore the two men. Konohamaru and Asuma grunted, flipping in the air before smashing their feet against each other to push them away from the attack, avoiding it cleanly. They landed and dashed at the Jinchuriki, careful to only lightly touch the ground so as to react to all the hands that erupted to grab at them. The two were weaving handseals the entire way, their eyes flashing with determination.

"Katon: Karyū Endan (Fire Release: Fire Dragon Flame Bullet)!"

"Fūton: Gōfūsen (Wind Release: Great Balloon)!"

The two attacks roared towards Gaara, a dragon of fire and a typhoon of wind. The Jinchuriki couldn't be caught between the two. If they collided with him at the center, he would die. The Jinchuriki smashed his hands together, chakra kneading as the sand swirled around him in effort. This time sweat formed on his brow instead of just a single drop, and it was not due to the heat. Massive walls of sand arose at the sides of the Jinchuriki, swirling up to tower in the sky. But Gaara wasn't done, roaring in excersion as he rotated his arms. The sand around him began to swirl, forming large hands that placed themselves on the wall just as the attacks hit, supporting them from the attack. He groaned, straining to stop both techniques as they placed an unbearable pressure on him. It would work.

If he had time to focus on it.

Asuma and Konohamaru were not going to give him that time. They appeared at either side of him, launching blow after blow that rattled the Jinchuriki. He could withstand the punishment. They were incapable of breaking his armor. But he had to work fast. If he didn't they would wear it away.

And he would die.

Gaara roared as a punch cratered into his stomach, dropping him to the ground. Konohamaru grinned.

"Not so tough when you have to fight more than one Sarutobi at once huh!"

Gaara snarled. Then a stroke of brilliance hit him. He let the walls drop, the typhoon of wind and dragon of fire enclosing around the trio as they almost touched. Asuma and Konohamaru's eyes widened, completely surprised in their eyes. They had not expected that. Gaara grinned, before he disappeared into the depths of the sand, being swallowed up. He left them parting words.

"Not quite."

Sarutobi grabbed Konohamaru, dashing at full blast to get out of the blast range. If those two attacks collided while they were in the epicenter-

BOOM!

Ino pulled her blade from a Suna shinobi's neck, blood staining her otherwise clear skin. She glanced to her side, watching Kiba and Choji fight off a group of Suna shinobi to her left. They were handling it well. She didn't need to worry about them. She sprinted down the hallway towards the door in front of her. The rage of battle could be heard all around her. The fort was trembling under the weight of jutsu and clashing shinobi. Still, she had a job to do. They needed Suna's battle maps.

She kicked the door down, ducking instantly as a scythe nearly cut off her head the second she entered the room. She rolled forwards, kicking backwards to glare at the puppet that rushed towards her, a scythe in its hands aiming to cut off her head. She deflected the attack with a kunai, glancing around desperately to try and find the shinobi controlling it. But there was no one else in the room with her. She grunted, drawing another kunai and stabbing it into the puppets head. She twisted, ripping the head clean off. The puppet temporarily slumped to the ground, giving her room to manuever right before it was active again. She grit her teeth, swinging her weapon in the air blindly. Still, the puppet marched forwards. Ino frowned, flipping over the assailant only for it to swing its scythe at her in an awkward direction that disagreed with the human body.

Unfortunately for her it was a puppet, and the laws of the human body did not apply.

It was only through a quick substitution with a chair in the room that she avoided the attack and wasn't killed. The puppet turned to face her, it's hand opening before storms of senbon with a clear liquid on them shot towards her. She grunted, rolling out of the way as the senbon collided into the nearby wall only for the puppet to rush in once more. The scythe carved upwards, ripping the floor apart as it cut through it in an effort to kill the Yamanaka Clan Heir. Ino grit her teeth, blocking the attack with a kunai and looking up at the puppet.

"I'm gonna find you," she hissed, before she jabbed another kunai into the puppet's chest. Without another word she overloaded her feet with chakra, using the overload to detonate the ground beneath her, similar to overloading the tree walking exercise. She flipped over the puppet and dashed out of the room just in time for it to explode thanks to the explosive tag on the kunai. The room crumbled behind her. Still, she had accomplished her mission. She raised her hand, holding the battlemap that was on the table in the center of the room. She had managed to grab it before she had left the room.

"Fucking puppet masters," Ino muttered.

"You'll wish that you were meeting a puppet master instead of us you blonde bitch.

Ino glanced upwards, a frown on her face as she saw ten shinobi in front of her. She immediately raised her hands, fear on her face. The men grinned.

"You think apologizing is enough."

"I'll give you all the information you want about Konoha I promise. Just let me live."

"Nah...I think we'll just kill you."

The men approached only for them to pause and reach out to the wall. They stumbled, barely managing to grab it.

"What?"

Their hands reached up to their ears, noticing the damp feeling. Blood?

The look of fear on Ino's face dropped. She lowered her hands and began to casually walk forwards, uncaring of the Suna shinobi.

"You know, the Shin Shi no Jutsu (Mind Death Jutsu) isn't usually one we Yamanaka use in battle. Five seconds is way too long of a setup time."

She smirked as she watched the group of shinobi slump to the ground, dead.

"But sometimes it has its benefits."

The man frowned, realizing his puppet was completely destroyed. That was annoying. Sure, it was a new one he was testing out but now he'd have to make a new one. He was already behind on his projects. Another setback to passing Sasori. He took out a notebook, beginning to scribble on it. The Konoha shinobi around him took offense to his nonchalant attitude, rushing him despite the pile of corpses that surrounded him. The five puppets around him would have none of it, leaving the assailants nothing more than corpses. The man snapped his notebook closed, pocketing it as he turned to the battlefield around him.

They were outnumbered, and the fort wouldn't last long. That was a clever poison the Konoha forces had used. It was strong, strong enough to kill off Suna shinobi without him being able to detect it immediately. They must have gotten it from the slug domain? Or maybe the snakes had reforged their alliance with Konoha? It didn't matter. It didn't work on him, and he had managed to procure a sample from the plenty of dead Suna shinobi. He would make good use of it. Another shinobi rushed him, but they were dead not a second later, poison coursing through their body.

The Suna shinobi sighed, walking away from the battlefield. There was no point in fighting a losing battle. Even he didn't want to fight this many shinobi by his lonesome. Gaara could handle the rest.

Kankuro had designs to perfect.

Gaara surfaced from the sand, a grin on his face as he stared at the domain of glass that had been berthed in front of the fort. It was a magnificent sight. His enemies were surely dead. It was a shame his sand wouldn't get to consume their blood, but he supposed whatever remained of them was good enough. He scowered the glass with his eyes, a grin on his face as he attempted to find their bodies. Where were they?

Nowhere?

Gaara frowned. Had the conflagration atomized them? Surely it couldn't have been that powerful? Where were his presents to mother?

That was when he saw them. Two figures, hunched over on the outskirts of the glass biome that had been created in the center of the desert, glaring at him. They were alive.

Gaara grinned.

Good. They could be presents to mother then.

The larger of the two men was grimacing, his left side covered in deep burns. He likely couldn't move it. The other seemed relatively fine, although the sweat pouring down his face indicated he would be dehydrated soon if he wasn't already. The older man had likely taken the brunt of the blast to protect the younger one. How honorable. Honorable opponents always tasted the best.

The two men stood, although the larger one was wobbly. Gaara grinned, the sand beneath his feet roaring.

"Good. Good. Struggle more!"

Massive claws of sand rushed towards the duo, forcing them to dodge. They were able to avoid the initial attack, but the numbers would catch them sooner or later. This was his environment. Their margin of error was practically non-existent. They were injured. They were slowing. He could win. All it would take was one misstep. He pounced the second he saw it. The wounded one was slower than the other.

Vulnerable.

Suddenly the sand around the man sprang upwards like a venus flytrap, spikes all around the man. It shot inwards, Gaara's grin threatening to split his face as he listened eagerly for the final death throes. He was greeted with silence. What was going on? He frowned, pulling the sand back to find the make-shift iron maiden completely empty. His eyes snapped to the other combatant, shock on his face as he saw the injured man standing with the younger one, his eyes resolute as he finished doing a one handed handseal.

"How?"

"Gyaku Kuchiyose no Jutsu (Reverse Summoning Jutsu)."

Gaara glared at the younger man. The injured one let his attack fly.

"Fūton: Fūhakujin (Wind Release: Sword of the Wind Count)."

The injured man swung his uninjured arm, released a massive blade of wind that carved towards Gaara. The Jinchuriki was calm as sand rose to meet the attack, only for it to be cut through with ease. His eyes widened, quickly raising his arms to create a larger barrier that managed to stop the attack. Instantly he lowered the barrier, desperate to keep his eyes on his foes. The last time he had lost track of them he had nearly died. He had to find them. He searched desperately for them but was unable to find them. He grit his teeth. Fine, if he couldn't find them, he could guarantee that they couldn't reach him. He smashed his hand onto the ground, causing the sand around him to swirl in a ten meter radius. Quicksand. If they tried to reach him, even with masterful chakra control, they wouldn't be able to. He'd see them coming and drown them. Still, no attack came.

Something strange was going on. Where were they?

And why was it hot?

Gaara frowned, glancing up. The heat was searing his head. His eyes widened as he saw the dragon of flame that was bearing down on him. How had they gotten into the air? No! That didn't matter. He had to defeat this threat. This was his territory. His desert. He would not be usurped here. With a roar sand rose from around him, forming a massive dome around him. The dragon struck it, superheating it but Gaara would not give in. He roared, pumping more chakra into the structure until the dragon finally flickered out, the top layer of the dome covered in glass. He, however, was fine. Gaara grunted, twirling his hands.

The sand churned, rotating at massive speeds and ripping the glass to pieces. Gaara's eyes glowed in the darkness, a demon looking for his victims shrouded in sand. Untouchable. He found the younger man instantly, and a wave of sand was sent at him instantly. The younger man's eyes widened, desperately trying to deflect the onslaught by spinning his staff.

Foolish.

Gaara concentrated, the particles of sand the man was creating in the air immediately swarming downwards like bullets, shredding into his body. The younger man cried out in pain, feeling the sand burst out of his body as little holes formed on his body, leaking blood. Gaara grinned but he wasn't done, tendrils of sand rising up beneath the man to latch onto his hands. The younger man pulled back desperately, freeing his entire hand. Gaara wasn't not one to give up though and the tendrils lunged, grabbing three of his fingers being contracting. The younger man howled in pain, feeling the bones and tendons break underneath the pressure. Blood poured into the sand, causing Gaara to lick his lips.

The man yanked his hand away, the crumpled forms of his fingers a gruesome sight. He couldn't linger on the pain though. The storm of sand continued to approach. It was a testament to his skill with the staff that he managed to deflect the storm with one hand. Gaara wouldn't have that. The Jinchuriki roared, splitting the stream in two before he sent it at either side of the Konoha shinobi. The man leapt into the air, desperate to avoid the attack. Gaara grinned. The sand roared upwards, a massive claw of sand forming as it chased after the teen. It was titanic. There was no way for the young shinobi to avoid the attack. Game over.

Gaara won.

Or it should have been, if Gaara had not forgotten about the missing injured shinobi. A fist flickered towards his face, only blocked by the automatic sand defense, but even then just barely. Gaara's head snapped to his side, completely forgetting about his massive attack for but a moment. That singular moment was all the younger man needed, the attack destablizing in the briefest of moments. He threw a kunai with an explosive tag into the construct, the detonation throwing him away from the attack. Gaara had no time to focus on that though.

Too many punches had broken through his ultimate defense. The blows hammered into his bodies, no longer able to stop them. It was as if the punches were cutting straight through his sand. But how? They rattled into his body almost instantly, cuts appearing on his skin. Blood began to trickle down his form as he sent his sand armor to guard only his most vital areas. That didn't stop the blows. They rattled along, bruises forming on his skin. Sure, the man couldn't cut into his vital areas. But it hurt. When was the last time he had been hurt? Seen his own blood? It didn't make any sense! He was the god of the desert! There was only one man who was able to defeat him in this element, and it wasn't some Konoha filth! So how was he being overwhelmed. By a one-armed man nonetheless?

The injured man finished the combination, smashing his fist into Gaara's cheek and sending him skipping across the sand, the substance desperately trying to cushion his landing. The injured man rose, shaking his arm that had unleashed such a flurry. Then he began to do one handed handseals, his eyes resolute.

"You're powerful Gaara of the Sand. But the Sarutobi Clan will ensure your death today."

Far away the young man also performed handseals, similarly using only his noninjured hand. When they both finished, they launched their attacks, a storm of wind and fire each directed at the now raising Jinchuriki. Gaara could only stare at the attack helplessly. How had he been put in this position? This was his desert.

"You idiot. This isn't your desert. It's mine."

Sand swirled around the Jinchuriki, forming a dome just as the two attacks collided with him in the center.

A conflagration lit up the night sky.

The Suna shinobi were in full retreat. Ino watched them run, a smile on her face. The fort was theirs. She glanced to her side, a smile on her face. They had captured about fifteen shinobi as well. Good for getting more information, especially from the maps she had managed to procure. Still, she had never found who was in control of that puppet. From what the captives said there was only one puppet master in the fort, and he wasn't there. Kiba had mentioned that he saw a man flanked by five puppets disappearing as well. That must have been him. The man had controlled the puppet against her along with five other puppets to defend him, and according to reports didn't seem to try. A puppeeter who could control six puppets at once.

Suna was breeding another Sasori of the Red Sand it seemed. Brilliant.

Ino sighed, finishing the headcount. They had some losses, but nothing so significant that they wouldn't be able to hold the fort. Asuma's plan had worked. There was significantly less Suna shinobi to defend than there should have been. They had told her what had happened. Poison. How funny, that the village with the foremost experts in poison had lost a significant amount of their force to it. It would likely only work once, but still, it was ironic.

Ino leapt to the top of the battlements, glancing back at the front of the fort. There was just one thing left. She had to see how Asuma and Kono-

What was that?

The feeling of dread rushed over her. She froze, her body unable to move underneath the bursting killing intent that filled her veins. A raging sandstorm spun in a hundred meter radius around the fort, the deafening wind and sand barely drowned out by that horrible laughing. She couldn't breathe. What was that? That pressure in her chest. On her back. In her head. She wanted to fall to her knees, but her body wouldn't respond. The killing intent flooded her. She wasn't the only one affected. The majority of the Konoha and Suna forces were frozen, their mouths agape. Drool dripped from Ino's lips onto her flak jacket, tears beginning to fall from her eyes. The pungent smell of urine filled the air.

But none of it overwhelmed the metallic taste of blood in her mouth.

Was this death? That demon that towered into the sky. That deafening chorus that relished in her suffering? What was going to happen to her?

"...have to get out of here!"

What was that voice? How could anything dare to speak up in front of this...this...God?

"Ino we have to move!"

Muffled voices. That dare speak in this creature's presence? Her world was getting dark. Maybe it was death she was hearing? The sweet whispers of her life? The blackness crept into her vision, her eyes never daring to leave the laughing monsters face.

And then, everything went black.

It was four day later when Ino woke up. Her body shook, and she immediately retched the second she opened her eyes. Luckily for her she was on her side. She groaned, rising to a seated position. The grunted, pinching her nose together. It smelled awful. That was when she saw it. The pools of vomit. Had she been doing it as she slept? What had happened exactly?

"Glad you're awake."

Ino blearily looked upwards. Her vision swam.

"Kiba?"

The Inuzuka nodded, sitting down. Akamaru sat at the other edge of the cave, looking outside dutifully. Ino watched the man, a frown on her face. Something was off about him. Unusual. Unnatural. But what was it?

"What happened?"

Kiba snorted, pointing behind her. Ino turned slowly, before her eyes widened. She slapped her hand over her mouth, seeing the forms of those behind her. Asuma, covered in horrific burns, although much of it was bandaged. His leg wasn't visible, covered in significant bandages. She didn't dare to look at what they held. Konohamaru, bandaged beyond belief. She could barely see his face. Choji was...dear god. Ino wanted to retch again.

Choji was missing an arm!

It wasn't just him. About six other shinobi lay behind her, all with various injuries and misisng limbs. None of them were conscious. Half-assed first aid was the best they were given. The best Kiba had likely been able to give. He was no medic-nin. If they didn't get proper treatment, many of them would die either of blood loss or infection.

"What...what happened? We had conquered the fort...and then...and then that thing..."

"That thing," Kiba stated. "Was the Ichibi. Apparently Konohamaru and Asuma-sensei did their jobs too well. They woke up the Ichibi."

"You mean that thing...was a tailed beast?"

Kiba nodded. "This was everyone Choji and I managed to get out. As you can tell...it wasn't easy."

Ino looked at Kiba, fear in her eyes. It was then it dawned on her. What was missing. What had made her so uneasy when she looked at him.

"Kiba...where's your eye?"

On Kiba's face, his left eye was completely empty.

The Huntsman left the village, glancing back at it. From the words of the men in the village a blonde man had been seen leaving the village not to long ago, in the direction of Suna. That was information he could work with. Information like that was useful. Hunting Naruto Uzumaki had been harder than he anticipated. The man wasn't connected to the black market, and as such very few of his dealers knew where to find him. He likewise couldn't bribe anyone to betray the blonde because he had no connections.

Not like it would matter that much. He wasn't sure if the people feared him or the blonde more.

That left him to search for him the old-fashioned way. Follow the extremely small trail that he left behind. He had been found before, which meant he could be found again. And he was the Huntsman for a reason.

The man walked out of the village towards the Land of Wind.

He had a bounty to collect.