Obsidian
Chapter Four: Aftermath
Author's Note: The first portion of this chapter is filler! It is a flashback to Yumi's death. Please enjoy and leave a review.
The wind whipped through the trees, carrying with it the harsh smell of smoke and blood. Asami crouched in the shadows, her back pressed against a jagged rock, the familiar weight of a kunai in each hand soothing her. She could hear the distant clang of metal on metal— the sounds of battle, of chaos.
Glancing at Jirroko, Asami reassured herself once more that she was making the right decision as squad leader. Their original mission was to gather intel and stop any Iwagakure shinobi from infiltrating Kusagakure any further. Several miles away, Kakashi's team was to destroy the Kannabi Bridge, successfully cutting off the enemy's supplies.
But it was never as simple as it seemed.
Asami's alert eyes darted towards the clearing below. There, in the center of all this chaos, was Yumi. Bound, kneeling on the cold earth. Her dark hair was matted with blood, her face bruised and pale. Her arms were retrained by rope, and the Iwa-nin who held her captive—a tall, scarred man with the cruel demeanor of someone who thrived in suffering—stood just behind her, his kunai gleaming in the dim moonlight. Yumi's tired eyes scanned the clearing, searching for an opening.
Asami was well-trained enough to know this was a diversion. At this very moment, dozens of Iwa-nin were moving past their perimeter, inching closer to the Kannabi Bridge.
The mission. The mission. The mission.
But this was war. This is the consequence of their forefather's sins. The collateral damage was their deaths.
"You know," the Iwa-nin paused, his voice cutting through the air, low and taunting, "It doesn't have to be this way. All you have to do is tell me your battle plans and I'll let all of you go. Maybe even reward you for your cooperation."
Yumi's eyes flickered, but her voice came out sharp, defiant, "I will never turn my back on my comrades or the Hidden Leaf!"
The Iwa-nin's hand moved to Yumi's throat, his fingers tightening slightly, testing her resolve. "Then we can just skip the talk."
Asami's stomach clenched.
The mission. The mission. The mission.
They needed the Iwa-nin stopped, needed to ensure the bridge's destruction if they were to turn the war in Konoha's favor. Every second Yumi was in the hands of the enemy made it more likely they'd be discovered. If the Iwa-nin managed to regroup, the whole mission would be a failure. Hundreds more would die and the war would drag on, growing and adapting like a virus.
And Yumi... she was just one person.
Asami's pulse raced in her ears. Her hand tightened around the hilt of her kunai, knuckles white against the cool metal. She was trained for moments like this—when emotions could betray you and when you had to sacrifice your own personal agenda and do what was needed, what was required and expected.
Yumi's eyes caught hers across the distance, and in that moment, Asami could see everything. The pain. The fear. But more than that, the trust. The knowledge that Yumi was counting on her.
The mission. The mission. The mission.
Asami let her eyes fall shut for just a moment, breathing through the storm of thoughts in her head. The faint sounds of the battlefield, of Yumi's struggling breaths, of the enemy's mocking laughter—it all seemed distant, like a nightmare she was watching from afar. A wave of suffocating guilt and dread filled her chest as Asami fought the pull of her emotions.
Yumi wasn't just one person. She was a comrade. A friend who I've shared dreams with. We had spoken of life after the war. We had made a promise to one another that we would survive. Together.
Jirroko moved first, ignoring protocol, and slipped from the shadows with precise, fluid motion. He threw a kunai at one of the Iwa-nin, who dodged it easily and countered with Earth Release: Tearing Earth Turning Palm. The ground rumbled and split open beneath them, but Asami used the momentary distraction to her advantage, advancing toward the Iwa-nin holding Yumi's tired, battered body in a vice-like grip.
"'Sami..." Yumi groaned, weakly struggling in his hold.
Jirroko moved like a blur, intercepting an incoming strike meant for Asami. He deflected the blow, protecting her, and knocked the Iwa-nin back with a powerful, well-placed strike.
Asami pressed forward, moving quickly across the broken earth, positioning herself behind the Iwa-nin. She placed her chakra-infused fingers against his back, digging them deep, drawing blood.
"Let her go," Asami seethed.
The Iwa-nin grunted, releasing Yumi and shoving her roughly to the ground. Without hesitation, Asami drove her hand through his back with brutal force, piercing his chest cavity. With a sickening sound, the Iwa-nin's body began to turn to mud, hardening around Asami's arm and restraining her.
"Asami!" Yumi cried, watching helplessly as curse seals spread across Asami's neck and face. She stumbled backward, helpless, as her comrade struggled against the growing influence of the seals.
"You're under my control now," the Iwa-nin leader materialized behind Asami, his voice a low, taunting whisper in her ear.
"I... will never... turn my back... on my comrades... or the Hidden... Leaf..." Asami heaved, repeating Yumi's words, eyes clenched shut as the curse marks burned into her skin.
Yumi's fingers flew through hand seals, her face tense with concentration. She drew on the little chakra she had left, feeling her spirit detach from her physical body. In an instant, she floated free, her ethereal form rising into the air. The Iwa-nin leader gasped, stumbling backward in surprise as Yumi's spirit approached him with menacing intent. Before he could react, she possessed his body, collapsing his spirit in a rush of energy.
The mud clone that had trapped Asami dissolved, releasing her from its hold.
As Yumi's spirit emerged from the corpse, she floated before Asami, watching as the curse marks vanished from her comrade's skin.
"Yumi..." Asami breathed, hunched over in exhaustion. "Thank you."
"Together," Yumi's spirit smiled gently, though her expression quickly faltered. She gasped, clutching at her chest as it burned with pain, her ethereal form flickering. Several feet away, Yumi's physical body hovered, impaled through the stomach by a rock that jutted out unnaturally from the earth.
Asami made no sound as her mouth parted, watching Yumi's spirit begin to disintegrate.
The rage inside Asami burned, an overwhelming inferno surging through her veins. In that moment of agony, of devastation, something inside her cracked as Yumi's spirit exploded in a shimmer, falling over Asami like snowflakes.
A pulse of chakra radiated from Asami's core, growing uncontrollably like an explosion of raw energy, so much so that the earth beneath her feet began to tremble, shaking violently. The ground fractured, the trees around her bending and groaning as if the very world itself was trying to keep up with the power erupting from within her.
Asami's eyes flashed with a purple glow, her pupils dilating as her body shook with fury and grief. A monster stirred deep inside her, clawing its way out of her through her throat and taking the form of a blood-curdling scream. It wasn't just the power of Baizōgan— it was Asami's sorrow, her rage, and her grief.
The Iwa-nin tried to react, but they couldn't. They didn't understand the magnitude of what was happening. Asami's pain had triggered something far greater than they had ever imagined.
The energy built, spinning like a storm around her. Her chakra, volatile and unpredictable, surged outwards. A wave of destructive power tore through their ranks—trees splintered, rocks shattered, and the very ground buckled as though they were being torn apart as dozens of lightning bolts rained down.
The remaining Iwa-nin were sent flying, their bodies crashing against the earth as Asami stood at the center, her eyes burning with a cold fury that seemed to consume everything around her. The Iwa-nin tried to fight back, but Asami's power was overwhelming. She didn't need to think. She didn't need to plan. She was a storm now, and nothing could stand in her way.
With a final blast of chakra, she wiped out the rest of the enemies in a wave of energy, their bodies crumbling to dust in the force of her wrath. The battlefield fell silent as Asami finished absorbing their enemies' remaining chakra. Jirroko clutched his broken arm, limping past the dozens of dead bodies as he approached Asami and Yumi's corpse.
This was the power of the Baizōgan.
Asami's body shook with exhaustion as she collapsed to her knees, her hands trembling as she shielded her eyes from Jirroko. Her vision blurred as blood leaked from her newly awakened eyes.
"'Sami..." Jirroko whispered, reaching for his teammate with his good hand.
As the last vestiges of the Baizōgan faded, leaving her hollow and spent, Asami peeled her hands away from her eyes. Jirroko crouched beside her, watching her body shake uncontrollably as sobs racked through her body.
"'Sami... 'Roko..." Yumi gasped, blood spilling from her mouth.
Asami and Jirroko stood below her, their weary bodies frozen as they watched her fade, helpless to stop it.
"Please... take... me... home..." Yumi whispered, her lips forming a faint smile as her breath finally ceased.
The streets of Konoha were awakening as Jirroko maneuvered through the narrow alleyways. His face was etched with concern, the lines of worry deepened by the weight of the situation. Asami's breathing was steady, but her face was pale, and her body had been trembling since he carried her out of the library. Jirroko hadn't been able to do much but hold her, try to soothe her with soft words until the tremors passed.
Now, as he reached her apartment, his heart felt heavy. The medic who had injected her with a sedative had searched her pockets, found her keys, and given them to Jirroko after he protested admitting Asami into the hospital. Jirroko pushed the door open, careful not to hit Asami's frame against the threshold of the door. With his heel, he shut the door and entered her bedroom, guiding her to the bed. He tugged the covers over her, tucking her in tightly before leaning against the wall for a moment, taking a deep breath.
Jirroko felt a weight in his chest that he couldn't shake. He had seen Asami suffer before, but this was different. It had been ages since Jirroko learned of Asami having a panic attack. It was as if Asami were spiraling, drawing in the grief she had carried since the war and from the losses that haunted her.
"You're stronger than this, 'Sami," Jirroko muttered, trying to keep his voice steady, "I won't let you break."
Jirroko ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly, and turned to leave, needing some space to process Shizune's revelation, but as he reached the bedroom door, there was a soft tap on the window— a sharp, rhythmic knock that made him pause.
He furrowed his brows, slowly approaching the window, pulling back the curtain just a fraction to reveal Genma. The two shared a look. Genma raised an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly, almost questioning Jirroko.
Jirroko glanced at Asami, feeling his pulse quickening as she continued sleeping. He could feel the familiar surge of jealousy rising from his throat, bitterness tinged with a pang of hurt. The thought of Genma here... made his stomach twist.
Asami had always had a kind of fragile strength, the kind that didn't ask for help. Genma, though, had a way of getting close to her without making her feel weak. They worked well together, their bond so seamless that it almost made Jirrko doubt his place in her life.
Jirroko let out a quiet, sharp breath, and Genma, seeing the hesitation, gave a small smile and a knowing nod. The gesture wasn't lost on Jirroko. Genma wasn't just here as a comrade— he was there because he belonged in Asami's life, and Jirroko... didn't. Not like that.
Still, Genma knocked again, this time more softly. Jirroko glared at him through the window, his jaw tightening. Part of time— this selfish, hurt part— wanted to shut the window, to shut out the reminder that he wasn't the one Asami had turned to. But the other part of him— the part that loved Asami more than she would ever know—wanted her to have the people who could help her when he couldn't. And Genma, for all his teasing and smug confidence, had always been there for her.
The two had a quiet understanding, a rivalry of sorts now, but this was different. Jirroko didn't want to be the reason Asami felt more alone. Jirroko sighed, opening the window with a slow creak, keeping his voice steady but clipped, "Genma, what are you doing here?"
Genma glanced past him into the room, his eyes briefly resting on Asami's sleeping form, then shifted his gaze back to Jirroko. "Saw you bringing her home. Thought I'd check on her. Is she... okay?"
Jirroko's lips pressed into a thin line, "She had a panic attack. She's asleep now, but I don't know if she's really okay." He looked away for a moment, swallowing the emotion rising in his throat. He knew Genma could hear the unspoken words beneath his statement: I'm scared for her.
Genma's expression softened, his voice quieter now, "She's strong. You know that."
Jirroko's eyes flickered back to him, "She is, but sometimes... she's too proud to ask for help."
Genma nodded, a faint smile on his lips, "That's why I'm here," Genma paused as if considering something, then added, "I've got her, Jirroko."
The words cut deeper than Jirroko had anticipated. He knew Genma cared for Asami. In his own way, Genma had always been there, a presence at her side when Jirroko couldn't be. Asami and Genma had met in the Academy long before fate had placed Jirroko and Asami under Kushina's leadership. Genma had always been calm and well-collected under pressure, a far cry from Jirroko's previous hot-headed nature. They often argued and bickered in their youth which eventually transformed into rivalry. Jirroko had always thought the rivalry only existed in the same light as Kakashi and Might Gai's, but tonight something shifted, and they both felt it. It no longer was about who was stronger or faster... it was about who was Asami's preferred choice.
But hearing those words—spoken so simply, so matter-of-factly— left a bitter taste in Jirroko's mouth. Still, Jirroko forced himself to smile, even if it didn't reach his eyes, "I know."
There was a moment of silence, the two men caught in a strange truce. Jirroko looked back at Asami, his heart heavy, before meeting Genma's gaze once more.
"You should stay," Jirroko said quietly, his voice softer than before. "She won't wake up for a while, but you might as well be here when she does."
Genma gave him a small, understanding nod. "I'll keep watch," he said, a small chuckle in his voice, "Thank you Jirroko."
Jirroko nodded, and without another word, leaped through the open windowsill. He stood on the rooftop, shoving his hands into his pockets as he let out a heavy sigh. The rivalry between them would continue, but for tonight—just tonight— he had to acknowledge something that had been gnawing at him for a long time: Asami wasn't as alone as he thought.
And that, at least, gave him some peace.