Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto. However, the OCs do belong to me.

Part 2: The Wandering Miko

Chapter 3: A Priestess a Day Keeps the Uchiha Away

"Anyone who believes what a cat tells him deserves all he gets." (Neil Gaiman, Stardust)

Land of Fire, Nara Valley

Meditation was the worst.

Nara-san had announced in the third week of her tutelage that henceforth Tobirama would spend an hour each day meditating with her. The Senju half hoped that she would forget this stipulation, the same way she occasionally forgot his existence or what his name was. But of all the things the girl made him do, she chose this one to observe faithfully.

"You will sit still for one hour, every morning, on the river, without exception."

He did. He hated it.

"Empty your mind. Feel your spine elongates. Spread your chakra outward, focus on the energy around you. Be one with nature."

Tobirama resisted the urge to doze and did as instructed. His master's hum, so quiet and soothing, was slowly putting him to sleep.

An insect flew past by him, making the spot above his left eyebrow twitched. He knew that Nara-san would poke his sides with a stick if he scratched it, thus Tobirama raised his brow as high as it could go instead. The itching intensified.

"Sit still," she said.

"My back hurts," he complained. "I think it's cramped from sparring."

"Then sit straighter."

Five minutes passed in silence and Tobirama was painfully bored. Meditation felt like a massive waste of time. It felt wrong to be sitting so still, to have nothing occupying his mind when he could have used his time to do something productive instead. He shifted his weight from one butt cheek to the other, sloshing water onto his pants.

Tobirama peeked one eye open and found Nara-san staring directly back at him.

"Sit. Still."

He swallowed his protest and obeyed.

Unlike him, Nara-san was able to meditate indefinitely. She became like a statue, serene and tranquil. Her hands were pressed together on her lap, forming a circle. She almost seemed like air, like she might actually fade away if Tobirama didn't concentrate enough on her.

Another five minutes passed and Tobirama felt a slight disturbance on his master's chakra. There was something gathering inside her, foreign entity that felt like the energy that floated in the ether, one that he was able to feel but could not quite grasp. The one he sensed right now was definitely more tangible. It trickled bit by bit into her coils, harmonizing with her chakra.

Minutes ticked by and the energy slowly grew in quantity. Beads of perspiration gathered on the girl's temple and her hand shook ever so slightly. Slowly, she exhaled and the foreign energy was expelled along with her breath.

Tobirama tilted his head, fascinated. "Shishou, was that senjutsu?"

There were stories passed down on the Senju Clan, told to the young to send them to sleep, about ninja arts practitioners known as sages. Those who have gained immortality and incredible powers through the manipulation of natural energy, enabling them to draw and blend it with their own chakra, adding a new dimension of power to their techniques and allowing them to do things that would not otherwise be possible. Tobirama wondered just how much of those lore were real.

The girl leaned back against her palms, her fine chakra control was keeping her suspended above water.

"Correct. Natural energy circulates all throughout the world, but it is usually imperceptible. Even you barely notice it, and you're such an excellent sensor to boot.

"In order to use senjutsu, you must first learn to sense the natural energy in your surroundings and draw it into your body, basically becoming 'one with nature', which is done by remaining perfectly still. Once you balance your physical and spiritual energies with natural energy, you will have senjutsu chakra. Be warned though, If too little natural energy is added to the mix, then senjutsu cannot be used, but absorbing too much will result in the user turning into stone."

Tobirama leaned closer. "Are you on your way to becoming a sage then?"

The girl snorted. "Not even close, and probably never would. I might be able to sense it now, perhaps even absorb a small amount of natural energy, but senjutsu can only be used by those who already possess an enormous amount of chakra, otherwise the natural energy would immediately overwhelm them. It is also important that the users' bodies be strong enough to support the increased power. As you can see, I fit neither of those categories. I'm simply experimenting to satisfy my curiosity."

Tobirama hesitated with his next question. "What about me? Would I be able to become one?"

She scrutinized him. "I believe you have the potential, but trying to achieve Sage Mode on your own accord is risky. I myself don't really know much about it. What I know now, I learn in passing. Have you heard about the big three unexplored sage regions?"

"Everyone has heard about the legendary Mount Myōboku, Ryūchi Cave and Shikkotsu Forest. Are you saying those are real too?"

"Oh they definitely are. You just have to be persistent enough to go look for them. Though if you do train under those summons you might just end up looking like a toad, snake, or even a slug."

Tobirama grimaced at the mental image. "Yeah… I'll pass. I'd rather take my chance with self-taught mastery, thanks."

The girl gave him a sly smirk. "Aw, I don't know you care that much about your appearance, Tobirama-chan."

The boy splashed water onto his companion. "I'm not. But I believe it's possible to achieve Sage Mode with our own power."

She wiped the chilly water off of her face, her smile widening. "Wanna wager on that?"

Tobirama narrowed his eyes, his competitive side was rearing its head. "State your terms."

"You will master the use of senjutsu without external help before your eighteenth birthday. The loser will owe the winner three favors. What those favors entail will be negotiated in later days once we have a clear winner of the bet. What do you think?"

Tobirama shook her extended hand, the grip was surprisingly strong. "Deal! Just you wait and see. I will win. You have my word."

The girl smirked. "Very well. Keep in mind that you are always welcomed to back out of our agreement. This bet concerns your well-being, after all. Don't do anything too stupid, kid."

"Yes, yes. It's not like I don't know when to stop. And stop calling me a kid, will you?! I'm older than you!"

She waved him off. "Whatever makes you feel better, Shrimp. Don't think that I didn't notice your attempt to distract me with questions instead of meditating."

"What? But wasn't it your intention to push me into learning about senjutsu?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "That's only like, my tertiary reason or something. First and foremost, mediation is a habit that can help you to alleviate stress. It's a good practice in the long run. Mental health is important, young man, so you're not allowed to worm your way out of this. Now start over," she said placidly.

"But—"

"Start. Over."

"Damn it!"

Madara curled on his futon, his back was damp against the cool surface of the wooden wall. His body ached, his cheeks burning with the flush of fever. His breath quivered in short, quick gasps every time he inhaled.

"Brother, are you alright?"

Madara peeked at his visitor from beneath his blanket. Even under a light cotton sheet he was radiating heat like a brick right out of the oven.

"Yeah," he croaked out. "It's probably just the flu or something."

Izuna frowned. "Are you sure? You've been under the weather lately and now you're getting worse. Even Father is getting worried."

"Positive," grunted the older of the two. "You should probably go, Izuna. Everyone must be gathering at the hall right now."

Izuna huffed. "I still don't understand why I have to go. I mean, it's just a wedding between Father and some lady from the Land of Demons. Her family is so... weird. I'm pretty sure their whole clan is a cult. Mōryō-sama this, Mōryō-sama that! Ugh, what a bunch of creeps."

"It would be a beneficial alliance," Madara replied. Hailing from a land plagued by Demons, the clan was bound to have some useful summoning abilities. Most importantly, they are rich, in every way that the Uchiha was not. "Our mother is also no longer capable of bearing a child. I'd rather have Father marry someone else," he paused to cough, "rather than let Mother die in a fruitless childbirth just so that the clan may have another spare soldier."

"That's true…" mumbled the younger Uchiha. "Alright, Brother, have a good rest then. I hope you get better soon." A mischievous glint then appeared in his eyes. "I shall deliver the Lady Mother my best wishes."

Madara smiled faintly. "Just as long as you don't get caught."

Izuna winked in a conspiratorial manner. "Don't worry. I learned from the best." The boy gently closed his bedroom door. "Eat your food, okay?"

Madara grunted his assent. As usual, he was given nothing but watery soup, diminishing his already-small appetite. He rolled onto his side, mindful not to put his weight on his tender arm, before moving onto a sitting position to gulp down his breakfast.

The Uchiha was bored out of his mind. He wanted to get up and do something productive, but all his body wanted to do was sleep with the curtains drawn all day. What was worse was that he couldn't seem to stop shaking. Sometimes it was rough, other times he could manage, but every time he'd get close to sleep, a new spell of violent shaking would force him awake.

Now finished with his food, Madara eyed his damp shirt with disgust. His last bath was barely two hours ago and now his body had already made his skin crawl. Madara hobbled onto the chest that stored his clothes and grabbed his work satchel, which was equipped with spare food, clothes, and weapons. He steadied his feet and did some light exercises, much to his body's complaints, before heading towards his favorite creek.

It took him a little longer than usual to reach the small river, but the delay was definitely worth it. Madara submerged himself until he was knee-deep, the water flowing around his limbs and drinking his body heat. He sat at the bottom of the creek and happily soaked his hair. The water, green in color, darker in the shadows and paler beneath the sun, lapped against his inky hair.

"Oh my, a dead body!"

At the loud exclamation, Madara sputtered into the surface, his shaky arms poised for defense. Despite hearing the voice, he couldn't sense the person's chakra signature.

At the back of his mind, the boy considered crying for help, but then he remembered that he was alone and that there was no strength in his voice due to the damned flu.

"Kid," called the familiar voice. "Chill out. I'm not planning to kill you just yet."

Madara blinked the water from his eyes.

"You…"

The Uchiha glared at the interloper that had dared to disturb his peace. It was the weird girl from last time. The brat gave him a cheeky salute, crouching on the surface of the water.

"What do you want?" he snapped, but the heat was lost due to his hoarse voice.

"I'm just checking on my favorite Uchiha," replied Shikamaru with a saccharine smile. "Not that it wasn't expected, but you do actually look like shit."

Madara wrapped his arms around himself, feeling self-conscious of his state of undress and still begrudging the girl for trying to kill him weeks ago.

"Gee, thanks," he muttered sarcastically. "How do you know that I'll be here anyway?"

The time-traveler smirked. "A fortune cookie told me. Apparently there's a princess that might be in dire need of help in this part of the wood."

"Fuck off," snarled the boy.

"Oh boy… You kiss your mother with that mouth?" His eyes roamed over the clearing. It had a quite relaxing ambiance, exactly like how the Nidaime described it to be. "Nice spot, by the way."

"Miss, for my peace of mind, please kindly go away," seethed the boy with fake politeness. "You're ruining my day off."

The Nara merely smiled, deliberately leaning into the boy's person, looming over him. "Sure, sure. But before that…" A green hue surrounded his hand with a pulse of his chakra. "May I? Just a quick scanning. I meant it when I said that you look like shit."

Madara shrugged his shoulder in silent acquiescence, seeing no harm in the offer. He had been avoiding the clan's medics for weeks anyway. "Why do you care anyway?"

A slim hand pressed onto his shoulder blade whilst the girl's glowing palm hovered over his lungs.

"I don't. I'm simply doing this out of necessity. I'd rather not deal with unexpected surprises. There are bigger threats outside of the warring clans, Uchiha. One example of such threats is Dokuzetsu, a will-manifestation of an ancient celestial being that secretly instigates many events that shaped the shinobi world in order to secure its master revival, a god-like being that could bring calamities onto our world. I have been tracking its movements for quite some time and its last known location was among the Uchiha, when it possessed my exiled mother's body."

"Oh…" Madara grimaced, processing the new information.

Dark eyes scrutinized the girl's form, trying to gouge her intention. He wasn't sure whether to think that she was spouting nonsense or to confront the idea that the world might be in great danger, with only a little girl as its defender. They barely survived the clan wars as it was, nobody would be prepared to deal with outside threats.

The Uchiha quickly redirected his thoughts to the topic at hand. "That woman, huh? I knew there was something wrong with her."

Shikamaru paused his hand, his face contorting to form a pained expression. "I assume my mother is no longer among the living then?"

Madara, feeling like he owed the girl an explanation, lifted his left forearm and showed the tanned flesh near his elbow. "It was self defense," he muttered. "She died quickly."

In other words, I didn't make your mother suffer, so don't exact your revenge on me.

Shikamaru hummed in indifference, pressing on the tender flesh. His eyes were trained onto the boy's reactions. "When did that happen?"

Madara winced when the flesh was neatly cut open by the glowing hand, though it quickly knitted itself together, leaving no blemishes in its wake. He had also done the same thing weeks ago.

"About a month ago," he rasped.

Shikamaru frowned. He had an inkling on what Dokuzetsu was planning, and whose flesh the graft might belong to. He did not like it one bit.

"Aside from flu-like symptoms, swelling, and general discomfort, do you experience anything else? Did you ingest anything bad, perhaps become injured during your last mission?"

"I don't think so. I didn't sustain any injury, so I don't think I'm infected with anything. It's actually the first time I've become sick like this," he admitted.

"Does it hurt when you channel your chakra?"

The boy tilted his head, testing the flow of chakra in his arm. "Yeah, a bit."

Shikamaru leaned back, sitting atop the water. "Well… it looks like you're having an acute transplant rejection."

Madara pulled his arm back, almost cradling it. "What do you mean?"

Shikamaru took a moment to compose an explanation. "Hmm, you see… when a person receives an organ from someone else, that person's immune system may recognize that it's foreign because the person's immune system detects that the antigens on the cells of the organ are different. It's like forcing pieces from two different puzzle sets together, they just won't match."

"Oh… Am I not allowed to use my arm then?"

Shikamaru scrunched his nose, contemplating just how troublesome it would be to synthesize immunosuppressive drugs with his current technology, not that he knew the necessary formulas anyway. He was proficient enough with herbs, poison, and basic medical techniques (since they were mandatory for jōnin in his era), as well as whatever knowledge he managed to scrape by from Tsunade's notes in the Hokage office, but this kind of thing was completely not right up his alley. And even if he knew how, he would rather not help Madara—and by extension, Dokuzetsu—to achieve the rinnegan. On the other hand, if he could recruit Madara to follow his cause, the rinnegan would become very useful to seal Dokuzetsu, therefore removing the shinobi world's bane of existence forever.

"Technically," Shikamaru emphasized, "single episodes of acute rejection rarely lead to organ failure. It should be safe to use your arm once you have abated the swelling. Regarding chakra use, I certainly don't recommend it, at least not until the graft has completely assimilated itself with your body. This might hinder your job as a shinobi, but you're still young, so there's plenty of time for you to learn new fighting styles, ones that don't rely on the use of both hands."

"I see…" Madara muttered.

Altering his fighting style shouldn't be too difficult, if a bit time-consuming. It was the most logical option. He could already imagine his father's reaction, his anger if Madara ever revealed the truth. If he, the eldest son, became incapacitated, then Izuna would surely be put on the front line in his stead, which was simply unacceptable.

"Then… do you have anything that could speed up that process?"

Shikamaru already had a few medicinal plants in mind. The easiest to procure would be green tea leaves; the catechin in it possessed useful antiinflammatory properties. Cannabis was also an option, as it could suppress the hyperactivity of the immune system. Other active ingredients with similar immunosuppressive properties could also be found in other plants such as ashwagandha, liquorice, green chiretta, red sage, ginger, barberry, and turmeric; which should not be too hard to grow nor to steal. It all basically depended on how much the Uchiha was willing to pay him.

Shikamaru smiled. "Of course. Plants are my expertise. The real question is, how would you like to compensate for my service?"

Madara quickly catched where the conversation was going, despite his feverish haze. His clan's financial situation had not been at its best for quite some time; and even if his family could spare him some money, he did not want this… mishap... to be known by the Uchiha. By the time he had healed, no one would've realized that he was ill in the first place.

"You said you were looking for this creature, Dokuzetsu, yes? I can keep an eye for any sign of him among the Uchiha. I know that what I'm offering is not much, especially considering my condition's sensitive nature, thus I'm open for bargain."

Shikamaru rested his chin on his hand, still smiling. "How about an honest conversation?" he requested.

The boy raised his brows. "Honest conversation?"

Shikamaru nodded gravely. "I'll be frank with you, Uchiha. A few years back, a technique which belongs to my clan has been misplaced into Uchiha Tajima's hand, despite the lack of interactions between our families; and not too long ago, my father, who worked in liaison with your father behind our clan's back, suddenly passed away under mysterious circumstances.

"Everything that has and is happening right now—be it my mother's possession or your current condition, and possibly your father's decisions—are the results of Dokuzetsu's tampering. Last time, the creature latched onto my mother, but right now it might have already possessed someone in your clan—perhaps someone of no importance, perhaps the elders, perhaps even your father.

"As it is, I have a terrible feeling about our situation, but I still need to move forward. My objective is simple; that is, to retrieve my family technique and erase any sign of its existence in your clan. I don't want to drag them into this silent war, especially considering Dokuzetsu's fixation with the Senju and Uchiha. I want to cut our ties, once and for all. Would you be willing to help me with that, Uchiha-san?"

Madara maintained eye contact with the enigmatic girl, possibly a Yamanaka if her words were to be believed. He was growing curious and at the same time wary about the creature that she spoke of. Still, he found it hard to believe her, especially if she really were a Yamanaka. The whole lot of them had mastered the art of messing with people's heads. The girl's innocent face had only made him to be even more on guard.

Just like her, he had a bad feeling regarding his father's costly pet projects. Tajima wasn't a good accountant and the man was wasting their nonexistent money to invest in projects that in my Madara's opinion did not even worth all the pain and effort. Nevermind the spy network project or Tajima's private prison, their soldiers obviously needed more armors and weapons, dammit!

"I don't think I can refuse your offer, considering the threat that you spoke of. Full disclosure though, I will not reveal any clan secret or any information that I believe might jeopardize my clan's safety. Is that acceptable to you, Miss?"

"Naturally," said Shikamaru. "Thank you for your cooperation. I'll return with your medicine in three days. I shall not impose your sorry self with my amazing presence any longer than necessary."

Madara rolled his eyes. "Tch, about damn time. Your sickening stench is getting unbearable."

"Says the one that's bathing in sewage water," muttered Shikamaru. "Has no one taught you to not carelessly dunk yourself in water? There are bunch of parasites lurking in Fire County's freshwater, waiting for idiotic hosts like you to latch into."

The boy huffed in frustration. "It's not like I do this everyday! I'm here to enjoy the forest's quiet atmosphere, which you have thoroughly disturb, mind you."

Shikamaru straightened up and swung his feet towards the river bank.

"If you want some peace, then why did you come to an open space in the first place?"

The time-traveler rummaged through his plants stash and wrote short instructions on a piece of paper, choosing antipyretic and analgesic herbs for the Uchiha to use, then placed them on top of the boy's neatly folded yukata.

"Your fever is running quite high and you are obviously more irritable. Irritable shinobi makes a sloppy shinobi, and a sloppy shinobi is a dead man. Is your clan throwing a party or something?"

Madara scoffed. "We are welcoming a new addition into our clan, a woman hailing from the Land of Demons. All the commotions are giving me a headache."

Shikamaru hummed in a nonchalant manner, though his thoughts were starting to run wild. "The Land of Demons, you say… Is she, by any chance, a priestess?"

"I honestly don't know and don't care, but I've been told that she was rich."

"Spoken like a true gold digger," Shikamaru snickered. "I swear they start getting younger these days. I pray that you land yourself a rich spouse in the future, Uchiha-san."

Madara flushed, rapidly turning into an interesting shade of purple. "I'm not a gold digger!"

"You sure about that, boy?"

Still laughing, Shikamaru narrowly dodged a barrage of jagged stones that were aimed for his head. Never in a million years would he imagine himself toying with the fearsome Uchiha. He supposed he had the boy's naivety to thank for that.

"Hey," he called out to the boy, "...wanna know my name?"

Madara stopped his assault, his dark eyes widening.

Now that Shikamaru thought about it, he realized that he hadn't told another soul his name for some years, not even Tobirama. He wasn't sure whether he would ever be ready for that kind of vulnerability, because in this era where everyone was one's enemy, trusting someone else's with your name was akin to trusting them with your life.

Names were treasured goods. Names meant honesty. Names meant trust and acceptance. Names meant acknowledgement.

"My name is…"

Shikamaru gave Madara a genuine smile.

". . ."

"...a gold digger."

With his mouth hanging open in disbelief, the boy continued his attack with renewed gusto and hurled more rocks towards the source of his annoyance.

Having fulfilled his purpose, Shikamaru saluted and flickered out of the clearing, leaving the enraged boy and his echoing laughter behind him.

Three Weeks Later

Temple of Shion

The temple was deathly quiet. A diffuse bluish light beamed through the pillared door, which made an eerie contrast with the white halo beaming from the brass sculpture on the central altar. The fragrance of incense was heavy and the sound of chimes could be heard in the distance. Four statues gazed mutely at Tobirama through their painted eyes. In the breezy evening, he was the only one standing in the courtyard.

The boy traced his fingers onto the relief sculptures on the wall. On the right was a relief depicting a woman that descended from the sky, a hunter was kneeling at her feet. On its left was the same woman, clothed in a bride's robe, standing besides the hunter. She taught the hunter's tribe many things: how to chant at the sky for rain, how to read the patterns of the weather, how to burn incense to appease the deities for a bountiful harvest. The hunter's tribe flourished and spread across the fertile land. Hungry for more power, the tribe used the knowledge bestowed upon them to summon a gigantic demon from another world, a demon named—

"Mōryō," Shikamaru whispered ominously.

Tobirama shuddered and covered his tingling ears, fuming. "For the last time, Shishou... Do. Not. Talk. Near. My. Ears! They are sensitive!"

"Oh, you poor ticklish baby—aargh, ow, what was that for?! Thou shalt respect thy masters, ya know."

"Then stop teasing me!" The boy huffed. "What happened to the tribe afterwards anyway? I can't imagine the goddess being happy with them misusing her gifts."

"Hmm… look at the inscription beneath this," Shikamaru pointed towards the leftmost part of the relief sequence. "The characters used here are a bit different—archaic. I think it'll be worthwhile to learn them; might give your fūinjutsu an edge. Anyhow, in this bit they basically said, 'Our god is an angry god. It will not let this injustice rest. It demands vengeance.'

"Legends said that the goddess cursed this land, making it plagued by demons, before she returned into the mists of heaven. Her descendants, however, this country's line of priestesses, are blessed with the power to banish and seal the demons away, thus they are highly revered among the shrine maidens, monks and common folks."

"Huh… how fascinating." Tobirama murmured.

The boy glanced over his shoulder, his red eyes widening when he registered his companion's appearance. She looked older, like a teenager; with plain, easily forgettable features. "And somehow, amidst all of the chaos with the voracious demons, you managed to land a job as a miko."

A few minutes earlier, Shikamaru had emerged from behind one of the statue's shadows, clothed in a pair of red hakama, a white kosode, and white and red hair ribbons. In his left hand was a gehōbako, a supernatural box that contained dolls, animal and human skulls, and prayer beads. On top of the box was a tamagushi, an offertory made from the sacred sakaki-tree branches.

Shikamaru grinned sheepishly.

"You see, I'm a very versatile individual. I can assimilate into whomever the situation needs me to be." The boy snorted. "And no, don't give me that look. I'm not deceiving the temple." Not too much, at least. "My witch moniker isn't just for mockery, if you must know. I actually do have some miko training."

Before a miko could perform shamanic service, there was a certain training to follow. The girl, still at a young age, had to undergo very intensive training so that she could be in control of her trance state. This would be done by rituals, including washings with cold water, and abstinence, which Shikamaru had done on a daily basis. The would-be-miko would also study how to communicate with the Gods and spirits. This was achieved by chanting and dancing, sometimes with the help of psychedelics, therefore the girl was taught melodies and intonations that were used in songs and prayers, something that Hotaru had drilled into Shikamaru's head and enforced with cane lashing for almost three years…

Well, perhaps insinuating that he had formal miko training was a bit too far-fetched after all. But it was not like he intended to be a full-time shrine maiden. Shikamaru did offer his services to random temples to build his reputation—mostly by immobilizing victims of spirit possessions during purifying rituals using Yamanaka and Nara ninpo—but he never actually stayed in one place. Being a miko provided him a convenient identity. It was simply one of the many faces that Shikamaru wore during his second life, just like how he used Asahi Abe as a persona for his more unsavory dealings.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Miko-san~" Tobirama drawled derisively. "Now if you would be so kind, please explain why you dragged me all the way to the Land of Demons, into a remote temple in the middle of nowhere."

Shikamaru wordlessly formed a clone to keep guard before beckoning the boy to follow him.

"The temple's priestess has been afflicted by a powerful, evil spirit. She entrapped it inside her own body in order to purify it, but she's quickly weakening and needs outside help to seal the spirit away."

"Yes, yes, you've told me as much. That's why you are here. Why am I here though? You told me to prepare for battle and I did." The boy gestured towards his armor and the sword strapped to his hip. "I'm sweating," he grumbled.

"Why... you are here to learn of course. What else, do you think we're doing a costume play? Like I said, we're going on a field trip. Also, conceal your weapons, Senju."

Tobirama sighed at the girl's vagueness, but still sealed his weapons as instructed.

Field trip, my arse.

Tobirama already held a questionable opinion regarding his master's sanity, and tonight that belief had only sunk even lower. "Are we going to fight the evil spirit, perhaps utilize fūinjutsu in direct confrontation? Is this one of those 'every hurt is a lesson, and every lesson makes you better' thingy?

Shikamaru held up his hand to silence the boy. He took a sharp right turn and was greeted by armored soldiers guarding a door at the end of the corridor. Their leader, clothed in grey armour over a white kimono, bowed his head. His spatha glinted in the dark.

"Miko-san, we've been waiting."

Shikamaru bowed lowly. "My apologies for our tardiness. I came as soon as I received your letter."

"No need, Miko-san. It was I who summoned Miko-san on such short notice. The ritual has lasted for almost twenty hours. We all are worried for our priestess and her pupils' safety. Our temple will be in your care, Miko-san."

"I shall try my best, Kusuna-sama."

The man smiled faintly, his exhausted eyes were trained onto Tobirama.

"Please ignore the boy. I can vouch for him. He's harmless, simply someone I took under my tutelage."

The man stared some more, before reluctantly nodding. "Very well, Miko-san. Both of you may enter now."

Shikamaru bowed again. "We'll be on our way then."

Inside the room was a woman, emitting a blinding aura, her long hair floated around her like a halo. Her arms were chained to the high ceiling and her legs to the floor. Red markings ran from the center of her forehead, looping under her eyes and forming circles before disappearing under her neckline.

Around her, shrine maidens and monks were chanting—their life forces and devotion channeled towards the priestess, powering and strengthening her. Forming a circle around the priestess, the older miko appeared to be in some sort of trances. Their eyes had rolled up into the back of their heads, leaving only the white parts to remain visible, but their movements were steady and graceful as they performed the sacred kagura dance—a dance meant to purify the spirit that was contained inside their mistress.

Tobirama focused his senses on the priestess' chakra. There was something foreign and volatile mingling with her spiritual energy. He pried closer, grunting when feelings of dread, nervousness and pure angst instantly flooded over him in painful waves.

Shikamaru tugged the boy into the corner of the room and gently pushed him to sit on the floor.

"I will assist them in performing the ritual. You will stay here to watch and learn. Enter a meditative state and pay close attention to the priestess' chakra, observe how her light chakra and the chants affect that thing inside of her. I expect you to be capable of identifying many kinds of energies after this—natural energy, will-manifestations, spirits, all kinds of chakra."

Shikamaru paused and nibbled his bottom lip. "Also, if it isn't too much of a problem, could you please make a protective barrier around the room?"

Tobirama nodded. "Sure, Shishou."

"Atta boy." Shikamaru ruffled the boy's hair, smiling. "Now sit straight and keep your bratty mouth shut."

The Senju heir swatted the offending appendage away, but not before giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I know, Shishou. Now go."

Shikamaru walked away from his apprentice and shimmied into the gathering crowd. Still holding his artefacts, Shikamaru chanted loudly, singing in the old, unfamiliar language that the temple taught to all of its pupils. He had leached the knowledge from one of the temple masters during his last visit, using a modification of the Shindenshin technique that Ino had created years ago. Shikamaru barely understood the words, but that didn't matter. What mattered were the harsh sounds, the repetition of incantations that sounded like spitting—primal, guttural, and savage. It sounded like a curse, like a condemnation.

Legend had it, the vengeful God that once roamed the land had cursed the Land of Demons into its present state by using the same incantations that were now ironically used by the priestess and her disciples to protect the common folks that inhabited the land and banish demons back into their realm.

Using his small and slim stature to his advantage, Shikamaru easily slipped through lines of monks and shrine maidens into the front of the altar. From there, he ducked under one of the dancing miko's arms and knelt in front of the priestess. Having maintained such a state for hours, the woman was clearly exhausted and low on chakra.

Whatever spirit that the priestess was battling against was one tough son of a bitch.

No matter, he thought.

Shikamaru placed his gehōbako and tamagushi in front of him—acting as protective talismans of sorts—before he connected his thumbs, forefingers, and middle fingers into a circle, forming a Yamanaka hand seal and aiming it at the priestess.

"Shintenshin no Jutsu."

Having his consciousness hurled into someone else's body was a very peculiar experience, one that he would never quite get used to. The last thing he saw was his body falling into the cold, stone-hard floor. Once he opened his eyes, he was standing in what he assumed to be his target's subconsciousness. Beneath his feet was a gigantic glowing circle, with intricate lines that connected the priestess' feet and the creature that stood on the opposite end of the circle.

The priestess stood with her back on him, clothed in a thin yellow dress that showcased the garish red markings on her limbs. A blue cloth hovered behind her and covered her arms, its end splitting and elongating into six sharp blades that dripped with foul smelling blood. In the distance, her opponent looked equally worse for wear.

Shikamaru assessed the spirit. It was a grey-colored mass, with sharp, jutting teeth, and red, spinning eyes. It had scaly, sagging skin; long, bloody claws that were attached to its ten limbs; and billowing violet hair. He observed the gashes that tore its skin open, then the wounds that the priestess had sustained. He glanced at the spirit, then the priestess, then the spirit again.

"The creature mimics your attacks, doesn't it, Priestess-sama?"

The priestess did not spare him a glance. She did not even question how or why he had ended up inside her body. "Astute observation, my child. I have to admit that this creature is one of the trickiest demons I've faced so far. You should leave while you are still able. I shall divert its attention."

Shikamaru puffed his cheeks and adopted his best high-pitched, whiny brat voice. "And let all of the bothersome efforts I've invested to come here and put on these troublesome garments be wasted for naught?"

"Kid." The exhausted priestess shot him an incredulous—borderline disgusted—look. "Get the hell out of here."

The creature snarled.

Shikamaru smirked, that reaction had just confirmed his hypothesis.

Slowly, he stepped back from the circle, standing a few meters behind the glowing shaman. "Say, Priestess-sama, aren't powerful demons grow stronger when faced with the darkness inside people's hearts? I know you're stressed and exhausted, so give up that iron-knuckle grip you have on excellence and just have fun for a change. There's no fear when you're having fun."

A pair of fine, trimmed brows furrowed up and gears started turning inside the priestess' head. Shikamaru gave her an encouraging smile. Not long after that realization started settling in and the shaman gave him a look of understanding.

Still smiling, Shikamaru clasped his hands into a Rat seal and lengthened his shadows to bind the woman. "Relax and think of rainbows and fluffy clouds, ne, Priestess-sama? I'm here to help. We can take care of it."

Miko and monks alike chanted louder. Onslaught of happy memories played before his eyes and Shikamaru slammed the creature into the ground. Inside the priestess' body, the demon twitched and started to howl. It cursed up a storm, saying all sorts of horrible things; about defiling the maidens, about slaughtering the monks, about destroying the temple until no single stone was left standing. It projected Shikamaru horrible images of what it would do to his allies and comrades that were gathered inside the room.

With the image of his old team etched into his mind, Shikamaru pushed the demon harder, overwhelming it with his own spiritual energy.

The miko that encircled the priestess did not stop dancing; instead, their steps became stronger—sturdier. Inside, the demon grew weaker and weaker, and not long after that, against his will, the priestess started gagging like it was about to throw up. At the very last moment, Shikamaru released his binding technique, allowing the priestess to be in control of her body once more.

The priestess ripped her chains and clasped her hands together as purple smoke billowed out of her body, exactly the reverse of how it entered her. Before the demon could slip away, she started forming hand seals whilst chanting, "Hatsu. Jin. Kai."

The room lighted up as a seal barrier was erected around the demon. With a twitch of the priestess' finger, spheres inside the barrier engulfed the demon, forming a ball that got smaller and smaller in size with each incantation. "Shōzen. Mika. Dan. Raku."

The sphere ball and the priestess' chakra merged into one being in a brief battle of will. Having been purified, it slinked over the priestess' abdomen before sinking into it, absorbed by the priestess.

"Shō."

With that the ritual had ended. The priestess was herself once again, in complete control of her own mind.

The priestess swayed unsteadily on her feet, breathing heavily. Around her, her acolytes were still stuck in a trance, though not for long.

Shikamaru gritted his teeth at his horrible headache, but sucked it up in favor of catching the woman before she could fall, using their connected shadows to support her weight. He slipped his fingers beneath his neckline and the priestess mirrored his movement, taking off a bell-shaped protective charm tied around her neck—her omamori—before tossing it to Shikamaru, who deftly caught the amulet and hid it under his clothes.

"I'm sorry, Priestess," he murmured, "but I also have my own troublesome demons to deal with, and for that I need to borrow your power." Gingerly, Shikamaru lowered the exhausted priestess onto the floor. "I promise to return it to you later. Fingers crossed, yeah?"

Shikamaru flickered into the back of the room and grabbed a bewildered-looking Tobirama, before rapping his knuckles against the sealed door.

"It is done," he announced.

A grateful smile broke over Kusuna's haggard face. "What a relief. I know we can count on you, Miko-san."

"Believe me, it was done through everyone's collective effort. I simply gave the spirit a slight push," Shikamaru demurred. "The Priestess would need an extended rest, so please send some handmaids to look after her holiness."

Kusuna relayed his orders towards his underlings with a wave of his hand. "I assume you won't be able to stay then… As usual?"

"I'm afraid yes. I have other matters to attend to."

Kusuna stared dubiously.

"You know... Stuff," he elaborated.

Kusuna pinched the bridge of his nose. "Haa… very well. Just remember that you are always welcomed among us. Your payment will be waiting for you at the back of the altar. It's a pleasure doing business with you, Miko-san."

Shikamaru bowed demurely. "I'll be on my way then—"

His clone exploded, its memories returning in painful onslaught.

"Oh fuck," he breathed out.

Everyone was instantly on guard.

Tobirama whispered into his ear. "What is it?"

Without thinking, Shikamaru briskly walked through the dark corridors, feet getting faster with each step he took before he finally broke into a sprint. Tobirama followed suit, a sword now strapped on his back.

"Shishou, what's wrong?"

"No time to explain. Just—"

A fist of orange flame punched its way out of the main complex and they went flying with the shock wave. Woods splintered as smoke and fire rushed out. Thousands of pieces of stones and steel showered down in a deadly rainfall.

Shikamaru linked his hand with Tobirama, and with a burst of wind chakra, propelled their bodies away from the explosion, just in time before Tobirama activated his teleportation technique, making them swallowed by the void.

They reappeared a few miles away from the temple in a tangle of limbs. Shikamaru winced at the feeling of Tobirama's knee against his stomach, with the armor that protected the boy's shoulder smacking his tender cheek.

"Tobirama," he bit out. "You okay, kid?

The boy rolled off of him, coughing. "Yeah. Just a bit winded. That damned gunpowder..."

Shikamaru sagged onto the forest floor.

"Nice work, Senju."

In the distance, a lance-like ray of blue-white light shot up into the gathering dusk. An instant later, a huge ball of fire belched upward, flattening to form a mushroom-head of incandescent gas that rose and twisted into dark smoke, enveloping the crumbling temple.

Ten Days Later

"Where are you going, Shishou?"

With deft fingers, Shikamaru tied a bandage at the end of his shin. "Out."

You've just returned though, the Senju thought.

Tobirama folded his arms, his back against the kitchen door. "Out where?"

The cabin had been relatively emptier today. Some of the dried and canned foods had disappeared, along with water and milk supply. Wherever it was that his master planned to visit, she certainly didn't plan to return to the valley for quite some time. Knowing her, probably not until her newest batch of poppy seeds had blossomed, ready to be harvested, which could take almost three weeks.

Shikamaru double-checked his weapons and equipment. "To the north."

Tobirama catalogued every place that might be of interest up in the north. "Is it another demon attack?"

Demon attacks had rapidly increased when the priestess of Demons Country was pronounced dead. Shikamaru was slowly growing haggard with the amount of demons that he had to deal with on a daily basis. Fortunately, the omamori that he stole from the priestess had made the sealing process easier.

"Thankfully, no," Shikamaru replied.

Tobirama scrutinized him. "Then why?"

Shikamaru contemplated his options. He usually always made sure to not involve Tobirama in his business, but his student was noisy at his best and could be downright obsessive at his worst. Telling him the truth was not preferable, but telling him half-assed lies would not work either. He did not want the boy to sense the flutter in his chakra, especially this up close. The boy was simply too good of a sensor.

"The Senju uses customized full armor, even the children, yes?"

Tobirama had full, fitted armor, several of them, in fact, if the variation in colors were to be believed. And not just him as the clan heir, other children had their own fitted armor too, quite unusual in this time period and economy. Not only that, in formal occasions, as seen by that one time Tobirama bailed out of a clan meeting, the Senju wore light colored clothes with their crests stitched on them. Light colored clothes needed higher maintenance compared to darker colors; ergo, more money.

"Yes..." the boy trailed off, not yet comprehending his point.

"The Uchiha does not," Shikamaru pointed out.

Sometimes the Uchiha clan head and his heirs would wear one, sure, but even then they didn't use full armor. From what he gathered when he spied on them during some skirmishes, the shoulder, arm and forearm protectors were usually missing. That, and the fact that they mostly used dark-colored, lacking variation, therefore cheaper attires.

"We're wealthier," Tobirama inferred, catching on quickly. "Or at the very least, less conservative with our money. So what? Are you wondering where their money goes?"

Shikamaru shrugged. "More or less."

The Uchiha were the Senju rival clan. In war, if one side employed the former, then the opposing side would surely employ the latter's service. And if Tobirama were to be believed, the Senju shinobi's wages weren't exactly cheap, thus it was logical to assume that the Uchiha would also be paid at a similar rate.

Shikamaru was not sure if the Uchiha applied frugal habits into their lifestyle, or perhaps survival of the fittest philosophy—i.e. those who could not survive without protection did not deserve to live at all—but he knew for sure that they were a prideful bunch. Though they might not care enough to flex their clothes to their sworn enemy, using armor for extra protection was just a simple common sense.

Spawning human children was not exactly an easy feat, considering the long gestational period and the additional time that would be needed to train them into functioning soldiers. Also, any general worth their salts had been using armor to induce subtle psychological effects since the dawn of time, especially in a well-maintained army.

Even after their clan head's union with a supposedly rich family, Uchiha soldiers were still not equipped with protective armor. Perhaps it was a deliberate decision on their part, to make it as if nothing had changed.

During their last encounter, Madara had complained about his demon-worshiper stepmother. It was what had led Shikamaru to investigate the Land of Demons in the first place. But then someone had breached the main temple and almost killed the high priestess. She was extremely lucky that the hall that she was in was covered in protective seals, enabling her and those inside the room to survive the worst of the blast.

Officially, the priestess was dead, but that was simply a ruse to lure the perpetrators into a false sense of security, at least until the priestess' guards figured out the person behind the attack. The only reason Shikamaru was even aware of this was because he had returned to the temple once Tobirama could no longer feel foreign presences inside the temple.

Tobirama pursed his lips. "Does this interest arise due to the temple attack, because I said the explosion matches the Uchiha's MO?"

"Partly," Shikamaru admitted. "But I'm more wary of the new matriarch. I was told that she hailed from the Land of Demons. Considering the present situation, it's not too far fetched to deduce that her clan, and by extension the Uchiha, have a hand in all of this."

"My father and I have been wondering about that too. He's quite paranoid about the demons' emergence, actually. I suppose Shishou must have a lead on something big then…? Because why else with the sudden reason to leave, right?"

Shikamaru already had a bad feeling about where this was going. "Get on with it, Snow White."

Tobirama ignored him. "You're not impulsive and very unmotivated about almost everything, so whatever it is must've been something worthwhile…" The Senju shrugged. "Good enough for me. When do we leave?"

Ha, Shikamaru fucking knew it. "You're not going anywhere, princeling."

"Would you prefer if I stalk you instead, Shishou? You must have known by now just how stubborn I could be. I won't be in your way and I won't be a burden, I promise. In fact, you wouldn't even notice I was there."

Shikamaru sighed, for once actually regretting his laziness. He knew he should've left at dawn. So troublesome...

"What about your family? Your duty?"

Tobirama waved his concern away. "I'm technically doing my duty to my family by helping you. My cousins also encounter those bothersome demons during their missions. I could leave a modified clone in my stead if that makes you feel better. The modified version is enforced with seals and blood, thus it's quite durable and shouldn't dispel easily. Besides, it's not like I haven't spent most of my free time with you anyway. Think of it as a remedy for that lousy field trip you dragged me into."

Shikamaru lazily grabbed his kettle and moved towards the stove to make some calming tea. Now that he thought about it, the Senju had been lingering around his cabin for an alarming amount of time—the valley was practically his second home. Shikamaru probably should've paid more attention to the little shit instead of having his clones babysit him. Now there was no way for him to get out of this. Running away or tying the boy up was simply not worth the effort. Where was the alcohol when he needed them?

"Should you even be doing that? You've just begun to store your chakra inside the byakugō seal. Aren't you drained of chakra? You don't know what you might encounter along the way."

The boy smirked. "Actually, I've found a way to divert a portion of that built-up chakra back into my normal reserves. How do you think I manage to use Hiraishin despite the drain? Besides, I have a big reserve for my age." He shrugged. "Anything else?"

Shikamaru measured the tea leaves, inwardly resisting the urge to face-palm. A brief peak showed that Kaguya was lounging near the window. "What about My Precious?"

Tobirama scoffed, crowding closer to his space at the kitchen counter. "Oh please, don't insult me with such a weak excuse. That cow hates us—you, especially. She would have a blast with us gone. She should be fine as long as she didn't eat any of the poisonous plants, and trust me, she won't."

Shikamaru gestured to the boy to sit on the chair. He then slouched against the table next to him and crossed his legs. "Does your insistence to go with me have anything to do with the reason you came to me in the first place? I'm not leaving forever, Senju. But even if I do, I've actually taught you all the necessary bits that would be needed to revive the dead. You simply have to find the red thread, as always."

"Of course not. You are way more interesting than that. I genuinely want to see you in action. You're very fascinating, Shishou."

The boy shifted so that they were facing each other, his eyes shone with genuine admiration.

"And with all due respect, Shishou, I have followed you around two months and all of your biology lessons have enlightened me enough to know that what I'm wishing is impossible to achieve. I can't biologically revive dead people and that's okay. I'm aware that I need to move on and accept reality, eventually. Honestly, the only method that might be somewhat feasible is by summoning the souls of the deceased—kind of like reversing that stupid exorcism ritual at the temple—and then temporary binding those souls into living vessels by using their DNA as anchors and—"

The boy stopped mid-rant.

"Oh."

Shikamaru rested his cheek against his palm, smiling.

"You were saying...?"

"Huh. Was that the reason why you dragged me into that God awful temple…? Sure, I've seen evil spirits with my own eyes, but souls actually exist…? What the hell..." The boy started scribbling furiously on his notebook, a look of wonder etched on his face. "Damn, that's not a really bad idea. Thank you, Shishou."

"You're welcome, my apprentice. Now get to work."

Silently, Shikamaru pivoted away and with a quick movement, grabbed his satchel from the floor. He would have made a move on the door, if not for the sudden surge of chakra and the appearance of arrays of seals on every surface of the building, casting an eerie purple glow in the air.

The man-turned-child turned around to face his protege, fuming, very much impressed but at the same time absolutely not amused. At all.

"Tobirama…" he growled, its menacing effect lost due to his body's high-pitched voice.

Said protege grinned, sheepishly scratching his cheek and smearing bits of inks onto his face.

"Forgive me, Shishou. But you're not going anywhere without me."

Sighing, Shikamaru stomped his way onto his rickety chair and flicked the boy's forehead.

"Ack!"

Shikamaru dropped his satchel on the table and slumped against it. He really needed that drink right now. "You're lucky you're still cute, kid. I swear I'll punch you when you're older."

He cursed when the kettle suddenly whistled.

Tobirama chuckled and condescendingly patted Shikamaru's shoulder. "Don't worry, Shishou, I shall serve the tea for you even though you're a magnanimous jerk. You're welcome."

The time-traveler groaned.

Thank you for reading this chapter. Thank you for favoriting and following my story. Your reviews, especially, really make my day.

I sincerely want to improve my writing, so all critics are welcomed. If it is possible, please tell me which part you like best and which part you hate, and why.

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